ic Midnight Express (IC)

[Gizmo]

Trevor's helmeted head tilted to one side slightly as he considered. "Not that long," he admitted. "The acrobatics were harder, and the martial arts. Driving just... came naturally." He shrugged his jacketed shoulders. Most of his training had been a matter of slowly learning from his mistakes and committing them to memory. Riding the Night Cycle had been more like gradually working up the confidence to try more and more difficult maneuvers.

Not generally one to press others for personal information, the lanky youth felt compelled to return Erin's show of interest. "If we're talking 'like nothing I've seen', how about you? The way you move..." Trevor's face grew warm beneath his mask as he decided to rephrase his sentence before it escaped his lips. "My grandfather told me stories about Lady Liberty - the one from Liberty League, I mean." A sound came through the air filter that might have been a short chuckle. "Most of them fawned over Siren, back then, but Grandad... she's always 'Lady Liberty' to him. Never just 'Liberty'. He's not a guy who wastes words."

[Electra]

Erin hesitated, choosing her words. She didn't want to lie, but too much truth just made everything more depressing. "I taught myself some of it," she told him. "I got a chemical injection when I was fourteen that gave me all the strength and stamina and that, but I taught myself how to fight and stuff. Since I've been here, they've been working hard on teaching me how to refine it. Working with the bat, and all the acrobatics. It's a totally different style, and it takes a lot of work. Sometimes I train five or six hours a night. But it's paying off." She shrugged, a move he could feel her make with the way they were pressed together on the bike. "I'm hoping someday to be good enough for the Freedom League. Not, you know, Lady Liberty good, but good enough."

[Gizmo]

Trevor had to quirk an eyebrow at Erin's explanation, though the twitch was buried beneath his mask and helmet. Successful attempts to intentionally bestow metahuman abilities were relative rare. There were rumors of black market DNA manipulation, but nothing that could be substantiated. The real question, though, was why someone would go to the trouble of creating the sort of serum his passenger was describing and then leave the recipient to learn to fight on her own. Even as his mind automatically slid the pieces of the puzzle into place, filing away information and noting oddities, he resolved to let the issue rest. If she wanted to elaborate, she could.

"I'd say you're on your way," he opined as he pulled away from the riverbank back onto the city streets. "Haven't really thought that far ahead; still getting a handle on my powers." His grandfather hadn't been able to offer much insight into developing his metahuman abilities, naturally, and Trevor was less sure in their use than he was his other skills. Hopefully training at Claremont would help to alleviate that uncertainty.

[Electra]

"I don't think you've got anything to worry about," Erin decided thoughtfully. "Even if the hero thing doesn't work out, if you can build a motorcycle that will go a hundred fifty miles an hour without making a sound unless you want it to, the world will beat a path to your door. Or you could be a stunt driver, easily. But if you want to be a hero, I think Claremont's probably the best place to figure that out. You're only a junior, right?"

[Gizmo]

"Mmm," Trevor murmured in confirmation. Steering back into the city, he began to accelerate again, the dull reflections of the Fens' neon signs flickering across his helmet's streamlined surface. Seedy shops and dilapidated buildings flew by as they zigzagged through the streets, hugging corners and picking up speed on the straightaways.

After a long silence, he spoke again. "Not about doing something that comes easy," the lanky teen intoned calmly. "Doing what matters, what's right."His tone was as soft as ever, but it carried with it an understated confidence. It wasn't a philosophical position or a considered opinion, it was a fact, an ultimate truth of which he could not be dissuaded.

[Electra]

"Yeah," Erin agreed, looking out into the darkness that surrounded the puddles of light cast by the streetlights. "Sounds like you've already worked out most of what you want to do, you just have to figure out the specifics. I guess the Freedom League looks good because it's like built-in backup. Even if you don't have a lot of friends who are heroes, the League is there if you need a hand."

She was quiet for a minute, then straightened, putting a hand on Trevor's shoulder. "Hey, slow up," she told him. "Look over there, on your eleven. That looks like a strobe-light alarm." From down a side street, a white light flashed on and off, accompanied by the very muffled whine of an alarm.

[Gizmo]

Even in the dimness of the streetlamp lit night, the lenses of Midnight's mask let him make out the trio of ski mask wearing thugs running out of the smashed window to a small electronics shop, arms laden with ill gotten gains. The thieves piled into a car waiting outside with a forth criminal, and peeled off with screeching tires.

"Don't let go," he instructed as the Night Cycle smoothly increased its already prodigious speed in pursuit. Within the span of a moment, they'd pulled alongside the speeding sedan, close enough that Midnight was able to reach out and tap lightly on the driver's window. Glowing red eyes shone through his helmet's visor as he slowly and deliberately shook his head.

[Electra]

He saw the driver do a startled double-take upon seeing the hero keeping pace with him, but these criminals were either stubborn or stupid. Their car had some speed on it, though. The crook peeled off down a side street, tires squealing as he accelerated for all he was worth. On the bike, Erin secured her grip on Trevor and hung on for the ride. "That street dead-ends in three blocks," she called to him. "They'll have to turn or stop by then!"

[Gizmo]

A harsh snort sounded through Midnight's voice filter. "If they make it that far." Pulling back from the fleeing criminals vehicle, he drifted the bike to the other side of the road, where a junker sat on four cinder blocks. Accelerating once more, the lanky teen wrenched the Night Cycle's front wheel into the air and used the derelict sedan as a ramp to send them soaring into the air once more. This time, however, he'd timed it precisely so that the motorcycle landed squarely atop the robber's car, turning ever so slightly in midair and hitting the brakes to keep from shooting off the front. Planting a boot down of the roof as startled shouts came from below them, the black clad hero extended one hand with a flourish, giving Erin an 'after you' gesture.

[Electra]

Erin didn't have to be told this time to hang on, tightening her grip as the bike sailed through the air. The landing tossed her up against Trevor's back, but they both had good enough balance that it wasn't a problem. Grinning at the incongruity of his courtly gesture, Erin leapt off the motorcycle with the ease of someone who'd spent dozens of hours training in how to maneuver on moving vehicles and gave the passenger-side window a sharp rap with her knuckles. The glass cracked, then shattered all at once, pieces decorating the lap of the very startled robber sitting in the passenger seat. "It's time to pull over," she advised them sternly."

The passenger seemed to think that was a really good idea, but the driver was a stubborn cuss, or just really, really stupid. He slammed on the brakes to try and throw the heroes from the hood of the car, then flipped a u-turn and began zipping the wrong way down the very narrow one-way street!

[Gizmo]

The sudden braking knocked the the Night Cycle from the roof, but Midnight threw his weight to one side as the bike toppled through the air and brought it down facing in the opposite direction, tires already spinning. The moment it made contact with the street, the motorcycle was racing off after the robber's car once more, easily keeping pace beside it while Erin balanced precariously on its roof.

A sudden light caught the daredevil driver's attention, and he turned to see another car coming straight at them down the one way street. Acting quickly, he spun the back of the Night Cycle about to crash into the side of criminals' vehicle, forcing it momentarily to one side of the street, then quickly slid onto the opposite sidewalk as the oncoming car hurtled between them, horn blaring. Narrowly steering around a group of potted plants sitting outside a florist, he maneuvered back onto the street to keep pace with their quarry once more.

[Electra]

The sudden jolt cost the getaway driver control of his car, sending it careening down the street with Erin still pressed flat against the roof. It hopped the curb and looked like it might go straight through the plate glass window of a closed cafe, then hit a lamppost instead with a loud screech of abused metal and a poof of deploying airbags. Erin flew off the roof of the car at the impact, but managed to grab hold of the streetlight's top bar and flip herself around. She dropped to the ground just as the airbags were starting to deflate. "I'd stay in the car, if I were you," she told the robbers conversationally. "We're a lot faster than you are, and you probably don't need any more head trauma today."

[Gizmo]

Swinging the Night Cycle to a stop in beside the driver's window, Midnight cracked his gloved knuckles idly. "Debatable," he retorted coolly, his voice chillingly devoid of emotion as the glowing red eyes set in his featureless black mask narrowed. Light consuming mist gathered slowly but surely at his feet, seeping from around his ankles into the air like ink spreading through water. Tendrils of the pitch black gas seemed to reach out toward the car, but the cloud continued to hug the ground for the time being.

[Electra]

Sufficiently cowed by the loss of their vehicle, not to mention the immensely creepy guy with the internal fog machine and the spandex-clad musclewoman sitting on their crumpled hood, the robbers inside the car raised their hands in surrender. Sirens in the distance indicated that the police were not far away. Erin looked over to Trevor. "You got any handcuffs in your gear?" she asked, sotto voce.

[Gizmo]

Without a word, Midnight withdrew and handful of plastic cable ties from a compartment on his belt and proceeded to deftly restrain the occupants of the car, locking their thumbs and wrists to various points in the ruined vehicle. Erin couldn't help but notice that the thin strips were thematically matte black. With that taken care of, Trevor remounted the Night Cycle in a single fluid motion and pulled around to face back the way they'd come, waiting for the statuesque girl to get on behind him. It would probably be best if they were gone before the police arrived.

[Electra]

Erin helpfully stacked the stolen goods in front of the car where the police would find them, her gloves ensuring that no confusing fingerprints would be left behind. As the sirens grew near, she hopped onto the motorcycle behind Trevor, not looking back as they raced away from the scene of the crimefighting. "That was a lot better than sitting in the common room playing video games," she decided aloud. "Nice driving."

[Gizmo]

Taking them rapidly away from the approaching wail of sirens, Trevor tilted his head slightly to one side in a wry gesture. "I try." Still riding the excitement of the chase, the lanky teen instinctively poured on the speed, turning up and down streets on a whim. Although he was markedly less expressive than the bulk of his peers, Trevor felt things no less keenly, and right then going fast felt good. "So..." he asked over the whipping winds, "ready to head back, or...?"

[Electra]

"If you want," Erin said, reluctant to bring the ride to a close. It would probably be smarter if they went back to school, at least give them the vestige of plausible deniability if Summers decided he didn't like the news of more teenage vigilantes running around. But despite all she had to do there, school was boring, and most of the people there were a little afraid of her, and that wore on the nerves after awhile. "Or we could just keep going for awhile. I think there are some good straightaways on the bypass around the city."

[Gizmo]

Trevor's head inclined slightly as the corner of his mouth turned up under his mask. Without a word, he slid the bike around the next corner, leaning them over so far he could have reached out and touched the street, and raced down the Wallace Expressway toward Highway 6 and the bypass which curved around Hanover. Along the way, the Night Cycle pulled around the sparse traffic like the other vehicles were standing still as Trevor deftly maneuvered, waiting until the last second to make razorwire turns. Leaves and litter whipped about behind them, caught in the speeding bike's wake.

[Electra]

Erin laughed or caught her breath as Trevor executed some of his more daring maneuvers, otherwise she just hung on for dear life and enjoyed the ride as Freedom City passed by in a rush of blurry lights. Eventually, though, even the best motorcycle ran low on gas and the most skilled driver needed a few more hits of caffeine, so the small hours of the morning found them in the diner of a truck stop just off the bypass, sitting in a formica and vinyl clad booth and drinking surprisingly decent coffee. It seemed like a good place and time to talk, but Erin was not very good at small talk. She tried to think of what Alex would say. "How do you like the school so far?"

[Gizmo]

Across from her, Trevor took a sip from his cup as he considered the question. With his mask and gloves packed away and his jacket unzipped, his costume could easily pass for generic biker wear. He's left his fedora in the Night Cycle's saddlebag, though; no point in pushing his luck. After a long moment he spoke, his unfiltered voice soft enough to carry no further than the booth. "It's... good," the dark haired youth replied judiciously. "Different."

[Electra]

Erin considered that for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, I guess so." No matter what sort of education you'd had before, going to Claremont was bound to be different. She had her jacket on over her uniform, but the blue spandex leggings and gold boots still stood out a little. Nobody had cared enough or been brave enough to say anything, though. "Definitely different."

[Gizmo]

Trevor murmured an agreement and looked down into his cup for a moment. Truly, if he had an Achilles' heel, it would have to be small talk. Clearing his throat lightly, he adjusted the collar of his jacket with his free hand and repositioned himself slightly in the booth. The table and vinyl bench weren't really designed for someone of his proportions; Trevor supposed he was lucky he wasn't one of Claremont's metahumanly large students.

He found himself stymied. The lanky teen was by no means naturally inclined to talking about himself, but he'd noticed with equal certainty that Erin pointedly avoided discussing her past. He could understand and respect that, but it did narrow the list of possible conversation topics fairly dramatically. "Coffee's better than I expected," he tried.

[Electra]

"It's pretty good," Erin nodded, looking into her cup. She'd added two creamers and a sugar packet to hers, but it seemed okay, for coffee. It wasn't something she drank a lot of. "I guess if truck stop cafes have to be good at anything, it'd be coffee. Television tells me they're good at pie, too. I guess if anyone ever came up with coffee pie, truck stops would probably be really good at it." She twirled her spoon between her fingers idly. "I've been thinking of taking a road trip this summer. Maybe I can test the pie and coffee theory."

[Gizmo]

"Ha." The short laugh escaped Trevor's lips before he could compose himself. It was a rich, resonant tone coming from deep in his sternum. He covered his mouth reflexively with the back of his free hand, dropping it to reveal a slightly curved smile. "Sorry. 'Coffee pie'. S'funny." The lanky teen's shoulders relaxed under his undone jacket and he raked his fingers though his dark hair as he took another sip from his cup.