Post by DistortedAmber on Nov 15, 2020 11:17:39 GMT -5
Note:
Hey all
this is a direct follow on from Jack Michaels RP for Havoc- 'The Mouth Of Madness', so if you havent checked that out, please do otherwise this might not make a huge amount of sense 
Otherwise, hope you enjoy
“I had a dream about you. You were on a bike going 70 miles an hour, I could see you approaching my car in the mirror. You were trying to say something so, I jumped on the brakes as hard as I could, I guess I forgot I had tied your bike on my bumper.”
― Georgia Saratsioti, Dreaming is for lovers
Memphis Fairgrounds
Memphis, TN
13.11.2020
7:42pm
Amber clutched the handlebars a little tighter as the pouring rain lashed viciously at the Hayabusa, if the Mustang ahead of her were any other colour then she would have lost sight of it long before now. Even now, the edges of her visor were fogging with her ragged breaths and her pulse thundered so hard in her ears, it deafened the engine rumbling beneath her.
She could feel her hands growing numb, god she wished she wore gloves- however the rain wasn’t anticipated, it wasn’t supposed to last, it was supposed to be like this.
None of this was supposed to be like…
Concentration was key- the Mustang twitched ahead of her, jerking slightly to the left before correcting. Vaguely erratic, this weather seemed to compound the nauseating feeling in her stomach, that and the repeated conversations playing out in her head along with all the ways she could have responded… could have done things differently.
If she had anything left in her stomach, she’d likely have been sick by now- instead all she had was the creeping bile in the back of her throat and the distinct notion that maybe this time… this time she’d fucked up so badly that there was no way to make things right.
Trying to focus, Amber could feel her eyes burning- putting it down to the humidity and exhaust swirling in the rain more than her own emotions welling up to the point she couldn't simply swallow them with a grimace.
… and to think, it all started with some stupid fucking jokes.
God fucking damn it. Trigger point, 180 turn. It was like a bad dream, watching someone you cared about turning on a dime seemed to cut far deeper than the slow realization that they just didn’t care anymore. The idea that in the blink of an eye, everything you knew about someone suddenly became irrelevant- staring into the eyes of someone who didn’t recognize yours.
He wasn’t going to stop.
Not unless he was made to… Saturated to the bone, Amber opened the throttle a little more to close the ground, in regular conditions she might have had him beat for top speed- but in this kind of weather, the idea of staying upright became more of a challenge than simply being fast enough to keep up.
Even in the rain, the tail lights flickered like burning embers glaring down the empty road as the Mustang jerked left again- this time more violently as it's correction came a little slower. It was becoming clearer by the second that Amber had to do something… and pretty fucking fast.
She couldn't even define where the outburst had come from- everything had been fine, maybe more than fine. Happy even. Whether it was real happiness- or whatever this delusion had redefined happiness to be, it’d felt genuine for at least a little while it seemed.
More genuine than anything had in a long time.
Problem was, at least in Amber’s fractured mess of a psyche, he wasn’t actually wrong. A little off centre? Perhaps. Misguided, to a degree… but wrong. Not at all.
Instinctively, Amber drew the Hayabusa to within 15 feet of the Mustang, trying to avoid the spray coming off the spinning wheels ahead of her as though her vision wasn’t already impeded enough by the downpour and gusting winds.
Happy.
That's what they’d always talked about.
Somehow the idea of happiness beyond simply wins and losses had eluded them both for so long that finding it almost felt like an achievement where for most others it would have been considered almost banal and commonplace. It was no secret that their relationship had gone through an evolution, that they’d sacrificed beyond measure for the other- although it could always have been argued that Jack had been far more giving, sacrificed far more, opened up his heart and family for someone that could never truly appreciate what that meant.
Four years prior they’d been total strangers standing across each other in a 4CW ring as part of a tag tournament, ambitious but otherwise lost and searching for someone to fulfil a role they didn’t know they needed. Three years prior, Jack stood by her side through the best and worst of her career- the highs of being world champion and the lows of injury and self-destruction in the face of career mortality, she’d never asked for that support… that guidance.
If anything she’d done her best to alienate and deter, she’d created so much turbulence that it was a wonder he’d even tried…
A year prior, she'd made a return that no one expected and he'd been the first person to welcome her back to the land of the living. He'd been the first person to make her feel like she hadn't spent the last year and a half trying to find somehting more meaningful than the bottom of another bottle. Seven months prior... They did the unthinkable and tore each other to pieces over a fucking belt, both of them too prideful to admit that they were in the wrong frame of mind, too stubborn to be the one to quit.
From the beginning, she'd always sworn she didn't need Jack.
Now, she struggled to envision a world without him.
What else could she possibly take?
It wasn’t as though she ever meant to- her declines and determination to be alone never sunk further than skin deep with him. Hell, for hours on end they’d argue over simple things like who was paying a bill, who’s turn it was to drive and why Jack didn’t trust getting on the back of the Hayabusa and why Amber thought he drove like an 80 year old with a lead foot.
Inseparable. They became family almost by mistake, accidentally entwined as close as blood- and in one foul swoop, one turn of judgement, one straw that broke a camel's back… It was all falling apart at the fucking seams.
…and all cause of a stupid fucking joke.
It wasn’t the humidity anymore, it wasn;t the exhaust sneaking up under her visor- she could feel the hot tears rolling across cold skin, like fire carving it's way through the glacial armour she’d held firm on for so long.
Part of her wished Mac was here, but it was better he kept his distance- collateral damage was becoming a theme in her existence and she couldn’t possibly live with herself if something happened. At least if things went sideways here… well, maybe it’d be for the best.
No.
With a flood of adrenaline and a quiet ‘fuck this’ under her breath, Amber brought the Hayabusa out from behind the Mustang before opening the throttle up further to start pulling level… 75. 80. Creeping up to 85 miles per hour, she was pulling ahead now- not that either of them could really tell.
God, the rain was hurting now.
Hammering against her jacket, against her helmet like bullets exploding just short of her freezing skin- if she could just get ahead, maybe she could slow down and hope that he wouldn’t just…
No, he absolutely wouldn’t.
Even like this there was no way…
If he did…
At least she could say she tried…
With her front wheel now ahead, she could feel the Hayabusa wobble slightly in the back, the slick roads now calling for their pound of flesh- they’d been merciful till now, benevolent with their gift and now they claimed their prize. She was so close though- just a little further and she’d ease off. Silently she promised whatever deities might be listening, if they granted her this one time, she’d do everything differently- maybe look into religion as more than just tax fraud built on a pyramid scheme. Maybe she’d sponsor some children or animals and throw coins for panhandlers despite the fact half of them earned nearly as much as she did for far less work.
Just this once…
Everything happened in a split second, the kind of split second that felt like far too long for what it was, the kind that passed just quickly enough that everything was visible but couldn’t be changed- like watching a film where you know the ending all too well.
Familiar yet somehow oddly sad in it's inevitability.
Another wobble, this one worse, threatening to throw her off and into the path of the Mustang... With a curse barely audible above the rumbling of combined engines and the fearsome pelting of rain, Amber eased on the brakes in hopes of correcting but found the tire slipping sideways with the slick of the tarmac while the Mustang retook it's rightful lead.
Watching the Mustang pull away, Amber caught a glimpse of the speedometer as she neared parallel with the ground- hoping that maybe she’d slowed enough that dumping the Hayabusa wouldn’t be the last decision she’d ever make. At a little over 60, she felt the first bite of the tarmac against her riding gear- like a pinch at first against skin numbed by the rain and cold. Drawing her legs away from the Hayabusa she was almost helpless, ragdoll-esque as the Hayabua slipped off the road and onto the gravel strewn verge- knowing she’d soon follow it.
Trying not to tumble was almost unavoidable, bracing with everything she could- the gravel cut and tore at her jacket, wearing through the upper arm and shoulder where loose gravel found it's way through her t-shirt sleeve and sliced away at her upper arm.
Everything seemed to come to a standstill as quickly as it started, taking a moment to perhaps decide if this was real life or the one after- Amber slowly grasped around for something solid to push off- the ground, although muddy and gravel strewn, was solid enough that she could push herself up to her knees.
In the dark, probably 25 feet away, the Hayabusa had also come to a standstill on it's side- the remains of a mirror strewn along the way having gouged out a few choice places in the earth. In the pouring rain, dazed and a little dizzy with the trickle of blood seeping down the inside of her jacket sleeve- Amber pulled off her helmet, trying to take in the first deep breath she might have been able to manage in the last few hours.
Within seconds her thick crimson hair, despite her best efforts, had become saturated and clinging to her face as she tried to make sense of… well, anything. By now the Mustang had disappeared into the night, even the familiar acrid stench of muscle car exhaust seemed to have dissipated with her hopes of making any kind of good.
Headlights approached, although she paid little heed at first, staggering slightly trying to find her feet on the uneven ground- her equilibrium fragile at best as she tried to make her way towards the Hayabusa in hopes there would be something left to salvage.
Behind her, a familiar truck and trailer pulled in- the engine being cut the moment the truck seemed to roll to a halt and the drivers door flung open with such a ferocity it was a wonder it remained still attached.
“... Red?”
She wasn’t in any kind of state to question how Mac had caught up, nor whether he’d born witness to what could only have been described as incredibly reckless and borderline suicidal- he’d barely gotten two steps from the truck before, he too, was soaked to the bone. She wanted to scream, to tear the world apart atom by atom trying to find something to explain any of this, she wanted to take every emotion flooding through her system and throw them into the void of the night sky like a sacrifice to appease an amused deity.
Trying to find words though was harder than expected, she choked on the syllables before they ever got half way out of her throat- standing in the rain like a goddamn fucking idiot. Dazed, staring off into the distance after something that was no longer there- maybe it was shock, her system trying to comprehend the waves upon waves of just everything crashing over her.
"Red… we'll never be separated by anything ever again.. You'll never have to do anything by yourself…. Ever"
Through the tears of his own, washed away in the torrents of rain, Mac hadn;t found himself that terrified in a long time- watching that bike go down, the knowing and feeling of helplessness that came with watching something you couldn;t control. He;d lost so much recently, to lose her as well… There wouldn’t be a life left worth living without her in it.
She didn’t even feel his arms around her at first, was she that cold that even his touch seemed foreign where it was once known? He drew her in tight, his relief spreading through her like osmosis and only adding to the confused jumble grief and despondency- in arms she’d never known to feel safer, somehow she couldn’t find sanctuary, there was no sense of solace to be found. Tighter again, her arm stung fiercely but somehow it didn’t seem to matter- he held her like he was trying to hold all the pieces of her soul together as they fractured beneath his fingers.
"I've got you, always"
There was a sincerity in his words she didn;t feel like she deserved, his unconditional adoration almost misplaced, at least in her shitty mind. There were those tears again, burning as they cut a swathe down the side of her cheek. Burning rivers of everything held back, now allowed to be released, to be acknowledged as real…
“Oh god, I fucked up. I fucked up… I’m so… I just… Mac”
Her words trailed into incoherence, wracking sobs shuddering her entire wobbly frame. Both of them were certain that if Mac’s grip loosened, that he might just lose her to the wind.
“It's… It's all my… I did this… It's all my fault and I… I don’t know what else to do.”
Burying her head into his chest, it was as though the rain ceased to exist for a minute despite the fact they were both beyond waterlogged. Intelligible as her words were, she didn’t dare let go.
“... It's all my fault.”
Hey all
this is a direct follow on from Jack Michaels RP for Havoc- 'The Mouth Of Madness', so if you havent checked that out, please do otherwise this might not make a huge amount of sense 
Otherwise, hope you enjoy
“I had a dream about you. You were on a bike going 70 miles an hour, I could see you approaching my car in the mirror. You were trying to say something so, I jumped on the brakes as hard as I could, I guess I forgot I had tied your bike on my bumper.”
― Georgia Saratsioti, Dreaming is for lovers
Memphis Fairgrounds
Memphis, TN
13.11.2020
7:42pm
… “When did it start to rain…?”...
Amber clutched the handlebars a little tighter as the pouring rain lashed viciously at the Hayabusa, if the Mustang ahead of her were any other colour then she would have lost sight of it long before now. Even now, the edges of her visor were fogging with her ragged breaths and her pulse thundered so hard in her ears, it deafened the engine rumbling beneath her.
She could feel her hands growing numb, god she wished she wore gloves- however the rain wasn’t anticipated, it wasn’t supposed to last, it was supposed to be like this.
None of this was supposed to be like…
Concentration was key- the Mustang twitched ahead of her, jerking slightly to the left before correcting. Vaguely erratic, this weather seemed to compound the nauseating feeling in her stomach, that and the repeated conversations playing out in her head along with all the ways she could have responded… could have done things differently.
If she had anything left in her stomach, she’d likely have been sick by now- instead all she had was the creeping bile in the back of her throat and the distinct notion that maybe this time… this time she’d fucked up so badly that there was no way to make things right.
Trying to focus, Amber could feel her eyes burning- putting it down to the humidity and exhaust swirling in the rain more than her own emotions welling up to the point she couldn't simply swallow them with a grimace.
… and to think, it all started with some stupid fucking jokes.
… “Get the FUCK away from me.”...
God fucking damn it. Trigger point, 180 turn. It was like a bad dream, watching someone you cared about turning on a dime seemed to cut far deeper than the slow realization that they just didn’t care anymore. The idea that in the blink of an eye, everything you knew about someone suddenly became irrelevant- staring into the eyes of someone who didn’t recognize yours.
He wasn’t going to stop.
Not unless he was made to… Saturated to the bone, Amber opened the throttle a little more to close the ground, in regular conditions she might have had him beat for top speed- but in this kind of weather, the idea of staying upright became more of a challenge than simply being fast enough to keep up.
Even in the rain, the tail lights flickered like burning embers glaring down the empty road as the Mustang jerked left again- this time more violently as it's correction came a little slower. It was becoming clearer by the second that Amber had to do something… and pretty fucking fast.
… “Have I made it that hard for you, Amber?”...
She couldn't even define where the outburst had come from- everything had been fine, maybe more than fine. Happy even. Whether it was real happiness- or whatever this delusion had redefined happiness to be, it’d felt genuine for at least a little while it seemed.
More genuine than anything had in a long time.
Problem was, at least in Amber’s fractured mess of a psyche, he wasn’t actually wrong. A little off centre? Perhaps. Misguided, to a degree… but wrong. Not at all.
Instinctively, Amber drew the Hayabusa to within 15 feet of the Mustang, trying to avoid the spray coming off the spinning wheels ahead of her as though her vision wasn’t already impeded enough by the downpour and gusting winds.
… “I never wanted anything. I never asked for anything other than for you to care. A reminder that maybe it was okay for me to not be perfect. Maybe that it was okay for me to just be… To just be…”...
Happy.
That's what they’d always talked about.
Somehow the idea of happiness beyond simply wins and losses had eluded them both for so long that finding it almost felt like an achievement where for most others it would have been considered almost banal and commonplace. It was no secret that their relationship had gone through an evolution, that they’d sacrificed beyond measure for the other- although it could always have been argued that Jack had been far more giving, sacrificed far more, opened up his heart and family for someone that could never truly appreciate what that meant.
Four years prior they’d been total strangers standing across each other in a 4CW ring as part of a tag tournament, ambitious but otherwise lost and searching for someone to fulfil a role they didn’t know they needed. Three years prior, Jack stood by her side through the best and worst of her career- the highs of being world champion and the lows of injury and self-destruction in the face of career mortality, she’d never asked for that support… that guidance.
If anything she’d done her best to alienate and deter, she’d created so much turbulence that it was a wonder he’d even tried…
A year prior, she'd made a return that no one expected and he'd been the first person to welcome her back to the land of the living. He'd been the first person to make her feel like she hadn't spent the last year and a half trying to find somehting more meaningful than the bottom of another bottle. Seven months prior... They did the unthinkable and tore each other to pieces over a fucking belt, both of them too prideful to admit that they were in the wrong frame of mind, too stubborn to be the one to quit.
From the beginning, she'd always sworn she didn't need Jack.
Now, she struggled to envision a world without him.
… “I gave you all I had. I truly did... What else do you want, Amber? WHAT ELSE DO YOU WANT FROM ME???”...
What else could she possibly take?
It wasn’t as though she ever meant to- her declines and determination to be alone never sunk further than skin deep with him. Hell, for hours on end they’d argue over simple things like who was paying a bill, who’s turn it was to drive and why Jack didn’t trust getting on the back of the Hayabusa and why Amber thought he drove like an 80 year old with a lead foot.
Inseparable. They became family almost by mistake, accidentally entwined as close as blood- and in one foul swoop, one turn of judgement, one straw that broke a camel's back… It was all falling apart at the fucking seams.
…and all cause of a stupid fucking joke.
It wasn’t the humidity anymore, it wasn;t the exhaust sneaking up under her visor- she could feel the hot tears rolling across cold skin, like fire carving it's way through the glacial armour she’d held firm on for so long.
Part of her wished Mac was here, but it was better he kept his distance- collateral damage was becoming a theme in her existence and she couldn’t possibly live with herself if something happened. At least if things went sideways here… well, maybe it’d be for the best.
… “Take care of Lil Amber… I don’t think I’m going home.”...
No.
With a flood of adrenaline and a quiet ‘fuck this’ under her breath, Amber brought the Hayabusa out from behind the Mustang before opening the throttle up further to start pulling level… 75. 80. Creeping up to 85 miles per hour, she was pulling ahead now- not that either of them could really tell.
God, the rain was hurting now.
Hammering against her jacket, against her helmet like bullets exploding just short of her freezing skin- if she could just get ahead, maybe she could slow down and hope that he wouldn’t just…
No, he absolutely wouldn’t.
Even like this there was no way…
If he did…
At least she could say she tried…
With her front wheel now ahead, she could feel the Hayabusa wobble slightly in the back, the slick roads now calling for their pound of flesh- they’d been merciful till now, benevolent with their gift and now they claimed their prize. She was so close though- just a little further and she’d ease off. Silently she promised whatever deities might be listening, if they granted her this one time, she’d do everything differently- maybe look into religion as more than just tax fraud built on a pyramid scheme. Maybe she’d sponsor some children or animals and throw coins for panhandlers despite the fact half of them earned nearly as much as she did for far less work.
Just this once…
Everything happened in a split second, the kind of split second that felt like far too long for what it was, the kind that passed just quickly enough that everything was visible but couldn’t be changed- like watching a film where you know the ending all too well.
Familiar yet somehow oddly sad in it's inevitability.
Another wobble, this one worse, threatening to throw her off and into the path of the Mustang... With a curse barely audible above the rumbling of combined engines and the fearsome pelting of rain, Amber eased on the brakes in hopes of correcting but found the tire slipping sideways with the slick of the tarmac while the Mustang retook it's rightful lead.
Watching the Mustang pull away, Amber caught a glimpse of the speedometer as she neared parallel with the ground- hoping that maybe she’d slowed enough that dumping the Hayabusa wouldn’t be the last decision she’d ever make. At a little over 60, she felt the first bite of the tarmac against her riding gear- like a pinch at first against skin numbed by the rain and cold. Drawing her legs away from the Hayabusa she was almost helpless, ragdoll-esque as the Hayabua slipped off the road and onto the gravel strewn verge- knowing she’d soon follow it.
Trying not to tumble was almost unavoidable, bracing with everything she could- the gravel cut and tore at her jacket, wearing through the upper arm and shoulder where loose gravel found it's way through her t-shirt sleeve and sliced away at her upper arm.
Everything seemed to come to a standstill as quickly as it started, taking a moment to perhaps decide if this was real life or the one after- Amber slowly grasped around for something solid to push off- the ground, although muddy and gravel strewn, was solid enough that she could push herself up to her knees.
In the dark, probably 25 feet away, the Hayabusa had also come to a standstill on it's side- the remains of a mirror strewn along the way having gouged out a few choice places in the earth. In the pouring rain, dazed and a little dizzy with the trickle of blood seeping down the inside of her jacket sleeve- Amber pulled off her helmet, trying to take in the first deep breath she might have been able to manage in the last few hours.
Within seconds her thick crimson hair, despite her best efforts, had become saturated and clinging to her face as she tried to make sense of… well, anything. By now the Mustang had disappeared into the night, even the familiar acrid stench of muscle car exhaust seemed to have dissipated with her hopes of making any kind of good.
Headlights approached, although she paid little heed at first, staggering slightly trying to find her feet on the uneven ground- her equilibrium fragile at best as she tried to make her way towards the Hayabusa in hopes there would be something left to salvage.
Behind her, a familiar truck and trailer pulled in- the engine being cut the moment the truck seemed to roll to a halt and the drivers door flung open with such a ferocity it was a wonder it remained still attached.
“... Red?”
She wasn’t in any kind of state to question how Mac had caught up, nor whether he’d born witness to what could only have been described as incredibly reckless and borderline suicidal- he’d barely gotten two steps from the truck before, he too, was soaked to the bone. She wanted to scream, to tear the world apart atom by atom trying to find something to explain any of this, she wanted to take every emotion flooding through her system and throw them into the void of the night sky like a sacrifice to appease an amused deity.
Trying to find words though was harder than expected, she choked on the syllables before they ever got half way out of her throat- standing in the rain like a goddamn fucking idiot. Dazed, staring off into the distance after something that was no longer there- maybe it was shock, her system trying to comprehend the waves upon waves of just everything crashing over her.
"Red… we'll never be separated by anything ever again.. You'll never have to do anything by yourself…. Ever"
Through the tears of his own, washed away in the torrents of rain, Mac hadn;t found himself that terrified in a long time- watching that bike go down, the knowing and feeling of helplessness that came with watching something you couldn;t control. He;d lost so much recently, to lose her as well… There wouldn’t be a life left worth living without her in it.
She didn’t even feel his arms around her at first, was she that cold that even his touch seemed foreign where it was once known? He drew her in tight, his relief spreading through her like osmosis and only adding to the confused jumble grief and despondency- in arms she’d never known to feel safer, somehow she couldn’t find sanctuary, there was no sense of solace to be found. Tighter again, her arm stung fiercely but somehow it didn’t seem to matter- he held her like he was trying to hold all the pieces of her soul together as they fractured beneath his fingers.
"I've got you, always"
There was a sincerity in his words she didn;t feel like she deserved, his unconditional adoration almost misplaced, at least in her shitty mind. There were those tears again, burning as they cut a swathe down the side of her cheek. Burning rivers of everything held back, now allowed to be released, to be acknowledged as real…
“Oh god, I fucked up. I fucked up… I’m so… I just… Mac”
Her words trailed into incoherence, wracking sobs shuddering her entire wobbly frame. Both of them were certain that if Mac’s grip loosened, that he might just lose her to the wind.
“It's… It's all my… I did this… It's all my fault and I… I don’t know what else to do.”
Burying her head into his chest, it was as though the rain ceased to exist for a minute despite the fact they were both beyond waterlogged. Intelligible as her words were, she didn’t dare let go.
“... It's all my fault.”