- Invitation Status
- Look for groups
- Looking for partners
- Posting Speed
- One post per day
- Multiple posts per week
- 1-3 posts per week
- One post per week
- Slow As Molasses
- Online Availability
- ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
- Writing Levels
- Advanced
- Prestige
- Douche
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Nonbinary
- Primarily Prefer Male
- Primarily Nonbinary
It was sometime around midnight when the bike began to spit and sputter to a stop. The fiery of the red-head wasn't anything compared to the freezing night. It would be an understatement to say that she wasn't under-dressed, and it was over-stated to the point of no return that she wasn't responsible for the littlest things-- including her clothing.
Solomon threw her helmet on the pavement and kicked at her motorcycle loudly. It fell with a metallic clank, and rolled slightly on the walkway. She didn't expect something like this from her bike, it was older than her, for example. It was a modified Indian motorbike, with Frankenstein parts and others of the sort. She loves that bike like a baby, but even babies need a beating or two.
She looked up at the sky, and sighed. Well, atleast she was at her location in one piece. She wished she could say the same for her baby. She could fix her bike in the morning, so she wasn't worried. But for now, it was a matter of finding out if he was awake yet, or not.
Solomon was a casual cruiser. She didn't go along with a gang, and she didn't ride for sport. She used it to get around, and get out, mostly. It was her trusty getaway vehicle, and sometimes, her bed. Solomon took her bike and tied it up against a bike rack, and quickly stomped up the stairs.
Her friend lived in a good little apartment a few hours away, and she tried to see him as much as she can. Solomon had been their friend for years, ever since they were in middle school together, and he had just moved. She stuck up for them, and they did the same. Solomon finally got up to the floor, and checked her watch. It was a little later than she expected. She sighed. It looked to her like the ride ran longer than she wanted it to. It was about three in the morning, to be fact. She was late, and her friend was probably asleep.
Solomon knocked loudly on the door, and pushed it open. She had a large smile on her freckled face and she pushed back her red hair. "Wakey-wakey, Ghost!" She called inside, walking in like she owned the place. And she did, partly. She couch surfed there and back and there again, and it was like a second home to her.
Solomon threw her helmet on the pavement and kicked at her motorcycle loudly. It fell with a metallic clank, and rolled slightly on the walkway. She didn't expect something like this from her bike, it was older than her, for example. It was a modified Indian motorbike, with Frankenstein parts and others of the sort. She loves that bike like a baby, but even babies need a beating or two.
She looked up at the sky, and sighed. Well, atleast she was at her location in one piece. She wished she could say the same for her baby. She could fix her bike in the morning, so she wasn't worried. But for now, it was a matter of finding out if he was awake yet, or not.
Solomon was a casual cruiser. She didn't go along with a gang, and she didn't ride for sport. She used it to get around, and get out, mostly. It was her trusty getaway vehicle, and sometimes, her bed. Solomon took her bike and tied it up against a bike rack, and quickly stomped up the stairs.
Her friend lived in a good little apartment a few hours away, and she tried to see him as much as she can. Solomon had been their friend for years, ever since they were in middle school together, and he had just moved. She stuck up for them, and they did the same. Solomon finally got up to the floor, and checked her watch. It was a little later than she expected. She sighed. It looked to her like the ride ran longer than she wanted it to. It was about three in the morning, to be fact. She was late, and her friend was probably asleep.
Solomon knocked loudly on the door, and pushed it open. She had a large smile on her freckled face and she pushed back her red hair. "Wakey-wakey, Ghost!" She called inside, walking in like she owned the place. And she did, partly. She couch surfed there and back and there again, and it was like a second home to her.