A trail of fire lights up a barren stretch of land, the intended destination after spending several long hours burning hellfire infused rubber on the open road. Gloved hand clutching the handlebar, he keeps the bike on a steady path, leaning into the breeze whilst letting his opposite arm extended, fingers wrapped tightly on a coil of chain that drags his reason for being here behind him.
This continued for a few more miles across the shrub strewn wasteland, until the leather-clad rider banks sharply, turning the bike with a twist of the brake, back wheel dredging up earth and stones as all gained momentum was lost. Having stopped, he swings the hand holding the chain overhead, chucking it and the man restrained by it to the dirt, little care given for the harshness of the toss, still holding the length of chain like a dog leash.
Getting off the bike, alightened features are quenched by the reemergence of flesh, the haunting visage of the spirit swapped for the human cursed to house his essence. He admits it is a foolish move, to force such a reversion, with a great deal of willpower alone needed to keep the vengeance essence of Zarathos from putting in another appearance so shown, but stubbornness demanded he treat this confrontation devoid of demonic features.
After all, it was seldom that he was afforded an opportunity to hold leverage over his most hated enemy, the very devil that answered his desperate prayer and cursed him with a face of fire. He wasn’t going to botch this chance.
“Up and at ‘em, kid! I got plenty of questions that need answerin’, and not a lotta time to spare, so unless havin’ your soul bein’ incinerated sounds appealing to ya, I advise ya to sit up, shut up and listen to every damned thing that I gotta say!” Were it all but bluster, Blaze would’ve added a touch more flare to his act. He was a showman at heart, after all, but in this case his words rang true; he could feel the Rider stirring beneath the surface, trying its best to get free and deal with the sinful descendant of his greatest enemy. Should the blond come across as crabby, he wasn’t about to start offering any apologies.
“Feel free to nod if you got all that memorised.”
Every fiber of his being wanted to rip Blaze apart. He already could feel the unending itch to shift into his true form. Something, he’d been trying to avoid for weeks, but surely he could let up his resistance in this case. Surely, it wouldn’t do too much harm.
However, he wasn’t going to go down that path – not yet at least. He’d wait to see what the biker was going to say. Only then, he’d formulate a real plan to get out of this bind.
From what he knew, this was Rider of some sort; he’d heard about them, but he didn’t know very much more than ultimately knowing it was a bad sign. Well, a very bad sign at the moment since this took his already shitty day, and made it ten times worse.
He rubbed at his lips with the back of his hand a few moments after he hit the ground. Not even caring that he was on his own in this. Yet, he didn’t voice his ‘usual’ bout about how his father would ‘take care’ of him – no, even Ky knew this wasn’t something he could just boast his way out of.
So, he spit some blood out of his mouth, and gave a nod. It wasn’t like he could do anything else for the time being and he wasn’t going to risk ‘mouthing off’ to someone that had already taken him this far. Clearly even the Son of Blackheart had some (very slight) respect for power andability.
Hellfirebound 