As quickly as the day started it came to an end, going from a hot and dry summer’s day to freezing temperatures and sparkling, cloudless skies. The air was crisp, but yet danger always seemed to linger within it, as there was no rest for the wicked. This time around, Galactic Ghost, along with a group of stray killjoys who just so ended up beginning to follow Gal around as if they were his disciples, spent most of his time with the small group to search and rescue or kill outsiders. But killing them was depending on their intentions.
This wasn’t necessarily Ghost’s favorite hobby, or his main. He was into fireworks, blowing shit up, things of that sort. But fireworks were the reason he was chased deep into the zones by Korse; the main Scarecrow. For the longest time Galactic Ghost as a legend himself hid away in zone 7 with no one but himself, alone to party all by his lonesome.
Gal had lost himself in the stars, something he always took notice of and admired when the sky was clear, which tonight was perfect for such. He was crouched over on his propped up motorbike, his head resting in his hand as he stared up at the constellations. The group had hidden themselves behind an old BL/ind billboard, which had been spray-painted and given a killjoys touch of a warm welcome on both sides. The twenty something year old killjoy was lost in his thoughts but he was broken from them as he heard approaching engines. Not just a car engine but motorbikes, and lots of them. Maybe it was Korse and his clutch of ugly little bastard Dracs!
Galactic Ghost watched as one motorbike sped by, screaming through the air. Then another, then another, then a shit ton that he didn’t have time to count. He immediately slipped on his helmet and kicked his kickstand up with his heel, revving up his bike and speeding off with the gang to follow, rocket launcher in clutch.