"Fuck David, it's totaled. Will take a miracle or a fire hose to get all this shit out."
The engine had been pried loose from the bike, spread out in all corners of the cave and studied for a good hour and a half before the diagnose was made. The grunge angel sat back on his haunches, shaking Shirley Temple locks away from that pale face and wiping more and more sticky gunk upon his jeans that was slowly beginning to hardened to a fine crust. Large eyes stared up at David in dismay. The kid was two-hundred years old and with a strange fascination for old time movies and taking things apart and attempting to put them back together again. It was that "young boy" sense that had never quiet left him over the years and something that was both highly appealing and highly annoying at the same time.
Fingers tightened inside his gloves, the leather creasing and giving squeaks of protest as the anger filtered through every pore of his body, igniting those deep-set eyes.
The scent had been evident from the moment they returned. Grease, pot and dirt, all mixed in with a male musk that the vampire had vague memories of gathering out at the tracks. He'd noted the long stands of blond hair that had fallen against the black sheen of his bike and within an hour of their nightly ride, he'd found the engine sputtering and the tailpipe burning with something incredibly foul.
And now, two hours later and his baby spread across the floor, and the evidence was clear.
Revenge.
"Is there no honor amongst humans anymore? Why do they feel the need to cheat and piss around until they get their way? Or hurt others to get back…" Spoken from the corner of the room, perched against a fallen bolder with dark strands of hair shadowing those already darkened eyes.
Dwayne. His Desert Dweller. The man had been born at the turn of the century when his people had been prosecuted and shipped off into the dying lands that were now known as "reservations." He was a quiet man, though when the mood struck him he could go on for hours about various different aspects of life, philosophy and other dimensions of thought that even David found hard to imagine or understand. It was hard to know if he truly despised humans or sought out their company in private. The man was well known to be a malicious killer while in the same instance, a passionate lover and caring friend.
The silence around them thickened as anger continued to boil through his body, thinking back to the races and remembering that stoner's face. Smirking, a rebellious air and sexual reference to everything that left his filthy mouth. Sharp eyes, somewhat bitter and sad from the life that David suspected was not a happy one, but always ready to devour the person before him and make sure that they knew he didn't give a fuck.
The air seemed to grow almost electric as he continued to sit and ponder, Marko nervously rising to his feet and stepping around the parts that lay across the ground.
The grunge angel was particularly sensitive to David's moods. He'd been the man's first and for a century, his only immortal child. Turned the day of his seventeenth birthday, the boy vampire had taken a very strange and twisted path into his new existence, separating himself from David for many years until finally returning and taking his rightful place at the man's side.
Their bond was deep and loyalty immense between them, though rebellious streaks would have Marko purposely agitating his leader in order to gain some sort of gratification or attention.
Though, right now, he knew that David was furious and any attempts to console or annoy would get him thrown across the cave at dangerously high speeds. The phrase "knock you into next week" wasn't so ridiculous when one was being "knocked" by a vampire.
David leaned back in his chair, staring at the mess on the ground and grimacing as he felt the weight of desire upon his shoulders, telling him to go out this very second, find the kid and rip him into shreds.
"Don't, David. It's too close to dawn. You'll fry before you even reach the city." For a man of few words, he didn't waste them. David gritted his teeth as he realized that Dwayne was right and dawn was no more than forty minutes away. The sun was already starting to crest over the shoreline and while he could withstand it's indirect gaze, the moment it reached the sky he would be nothing short of a burning pile of ash and blood.
If that.
"That little shithead… it would be worth it just to peal his skin from his body and douse him in ten gallons of salt." growled out softly as the crease of leather deepened against his palm and blue eyes blazed with a fury that made the others increasingly uncomfortable. Especially with dawn so close and the man's bike still shattered against the ground.
In the early traces of light, the gunk actually head a strange spectacle of color and upon closer examination, not to mention a small taste that was quickly spit out, Marko would laugh and shake his head.
"It's fucking pixie stick powder!"
Eyes shot towards the grunge angel as he continued to laugh before finding something conveniently caught in his throat and having to choke it out… on the other side of the cave. Even Dwayne was holding back a smile, but at the same time, he knew better than to speak.
The merriment would end abruptly as David stood, moving through the scattered parts until he reached the shell of the engine itself, picking it up and suddenly hurling it against the wall. It bounced off the rocks and fell into a deeper portion of the cave itself, echoing for a good distance and startling a few rats that were hidden amongst the debris.
Marko and Dwayne exchanged glances, but said nothing. Now was not the time to try and convince their leader that everything would work out; that the little prick would be found and manhandled before the night was over and he could just go out and buy a new bike.
But no… it wasn't that simple, not with the elder vampire whose pride and joy had been ripped to pieces and thoroughly destroyed.
By a human.
Seconds passed and the light grew more and more intense within the cave, forcing the two back further into the shadows and David to teeter along the softly glowing edges that poured in from the shattered glass of the sky-roof. The man had a likeness for playing with fire. For seeing how much he could withstand in a single moment before pulling back and retreating to the darkness and the confines of a much needed sleep.
Gloves traced the dusty trail of light, willing himself to feel nothing though the heat was already pressing through the worn leather and seizing his flesh in a slow-cooking sizzle. Power, knowledge, thirst and charm… and he couldn't set foot in the one thing that the Devil had forgotten to ask for.
The hand pulled back and within an instant, he disappeared into the waiting shadows of their man-made crypt.