Highway to Hell [OPEN]

[fletcherellis]

Running his hands through his hair Fletcher grabbed his light blue helmet and pushed the curls out of his face reminding himself that he definitely needed a haircut sooner or later.Checking his Rolex watch on his wrist he tapped it with his finger half hoping the time would move faster.Sliding on his helmet he fastened his adjustment to how he wanted it and made his way over to his over towards his '98 sky blue Harley and glanced up at the morning sun, seeing not a cloud in the sky.

Pressing down on his bike he flipped the kickstand up and carried it with no trouble onto the paved road ahead. Moistening his lips with his tongue he gently settled himself onto the front seat trying not to fry it with his hands his veins ran hot fire more than usual and he didn't want to destroy his new baby. Reaching inside of his pocket of his beige khaki shorts he pulled out a black set of keys flipping it into the air and catching it putting it into the ignition.

Hearing the familiar purr of the engine he smiled in satisfaction and waited for it to get going.Feeling the exhaust pipe heating up he switched the gearshift and kicked his foot onto the curb to move the bike forward and turned the clutch smiling in the bike reflection on the side of the handlebars.Seeing more bikes like his own he waved slightly and turned up the radio blasting Highway to Hell the music beating in the distance. Watching the bikers cut him off he smirked and popped a wheely challenging them not paying attention in front of him he heard a loud truck horn and swerved his bike to the side of the road jumping out and rolling on the grass. Closing his eyes he pulled at the dead grass making his hand absorbed in fire before burning the ground beneath him.

Getting a grip of himself he stood up and was about to flip the trucker off; instead his rolled out of the way again as the eighteen wheeler crashed into the stop sign and cursed at Fletcher shaking his hand in a fist;Fletcher seeming to be amused made fire on the tips of his fingers and waved goodbye to the driver having a smirk grin.
Growling at his now destroyed bike from the stupid ass trucker he picked it up with a menacing look and watched it go up in flames not caring about it all even. Heaving it over his shoulders he thrust it into the dumpster and sat against it figuring out what to do from there.

Count:440
Notes: Finally some muse for Fletcher

[patrick]

He couldn't say why he was really here, sitting by the road like this, back against a dumpster. He enjoyed cars, anything vehicular. He missed his bike like crazy. But as it was, he was in this predicament because of these automobiles. As incredible an invention as the vehicle was, it was certainly one of the most destructive and chaotic forces created by man. There was always bad in the good, it seemed. The fact that he still enjoyed the company of these mechanical beasts would have been a mystery to him before his death. But as a ghost, a car was the least of his troubles. There wasn't much to fear now. For the most part, he was transparent. People walked right through him now. They always paused and sort of stopped immediately after doing so: the rumors about the area a ghost occupies being colder than the surrounding region were apparently true. Even in a solid form, his skin seemed rather cold to the touch as well. Because he was death. Death personified. He wasn't alone. He supposed that these vampires were also on a similar wave length, what with being nothing more than blood-filled husks. Then again, did that mean that they retained more humanity than he himself did being that they carried a substance like blood?

Guzzy didn't know. He'd find out soon though. The minute that he found out about these supernaturals upon his death, he hadn't stopped questioning their existence. And after learning to remain solid for such a good long time, he was even able to ask some of them his questions personally. Of course, many didn't care. They didn't answer. But some humored him. That's how he came to know about the factions. The dark and the light. And then there was the middle. Neutral. A grey area. He himself remained there, hung in the balance between the others. And he wasn't sure if he'd ever take a side. Both presented valid arguments. Of course, the dark side was a little overwhelming. If they succeeded, his poor mother was very well dead. Then again, she was dying now as it was. Wasting away in her old age, alone without her son or the love of her life. Her rich family had apparently decided to have nothing to do with her. It was all very well: his mother wouldn't have accepted the help anyhow.

And then he heard a familiar sound. A beautiful noise that manifested into an even more lovely visual. Several bikes came tearing down the road and an invisible Guzzy smiled to himself. Goddamn, he missed his ride. One particularly courageous biker pulled his front wheel tight to his body, the bottom still spinning wildly as he maneuvered into a gorgeous wheely, ignoring any other vehicle or street sign on the road in the process. Guzzy saw the whole mess before it happened. Sitting up straight, he watched, worried, wondering if he was going to gain something in the form of a ghostly buddy if this kid didn't make it through this. There was a momentary struggle with his bike and he leapt off, rolling into the ground with a thud that make Guzzy cringe. He watched and was immediately relieved when he saw the boy stand. The truck driver was, understandably, pissed off as all hell, but the kid waved with a grin and that's when Guzzy noticed the fire crackling pleasantly on his fingers. Ah. A firetamer. He'd met a couple in death. Some of them were nasty characters.

But this one seemed all right. Playful. Mischievous. Much like himself. The kid, with impossible strength, lifted his torched bike in his arms and walked straight toward Guzzy and the dumpster. He dumped the bike inside and sat down right next to the ghost boy. Guzzy didn't want to stay silent. Not when another supernatural was involved. One that rode a bike, nonetheless. Staring off at the street, not looking over at Fletcher, Guzzy concentrated for just a moment until his body solidified. It always felt strange. He was there, in the world again. But not human. Not anything. But at least now he could be seen and heard. He'd be able to hold this for awhile, so practiced he was in doing so. The long-haired kid cracked his neck and certainly looked out of place in his eighties clothing. "Sorry about your bike, man. Wicked dismount, though. If only I had been so lucky, huh?" He laughed bitterly, finally glancing over at his new companion.

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[cierra]

OUTFIT

THE WATERWORKS BLOCKED HIS WORDS

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he felt sorry[/center]

This is the first place she liked to go to browse and people watch. People watching was one of her favorite activities. She could have gone to the old part of town, but the last time she went there, she ended up lost and clueless when some guy tried to sell her something. Cierra knew she was clueless, but all it did was make her feel stupid when she asked what was 'stuff' and he looked annoyed. She hated annoying people. More generally, she hated when people were annoyed at her. It made her feel small. She also had the tendancy to ask for everyone's approval in life. All her life she might have gotten a few times of great approval. It was usually in her studies when she asnwered a question correctly or aced a test. However, now that she was out of high school, her accomplishments were becoming further and further apart.

She looked down at her black shoes, almost all covered with how long her pants were. It was amazing how much she had to get the pants mended and still be that long. For some reason, people who made jeans thought that everyone was extremely tall. She supposed for marketing purposes, it was better to make them long than not long enough. All the same, it meant that she had to pay extra money to get them to fit. They were high up near her belly botton, but her plaid shirt covered exactally where the ridiculous pants stopped. Her hair was actually more poofed at the top of her head than normal, making it look shorter than it was. It normally fell down past her shoulders when today's hair was at her shoulders.

Her eyes darted around, focusing nothing in perticular at first until she watched the road. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion in front of her. When the truck driver came, she gasped and took a step back, fearing for the one on the motorcycle. She hid her eyes in her hands for the rest of it, as she wasn't sure she wanted to see what happened happen. Very hesitantly, she looked up to see that the boy was still alive, but glaring at the truck driver as he rode away, looking as if he wanted to do a lot more than glare. Her gaze then fell upon the bike and frowned. The poor thing was shattered. Cierra didn't really have a fasination over bikes and cars and such, but she knew how important they could be to people- especially those in guys. Just seeing the angry look in his face made Cierra want to rush over and help.

She was on her way when she swore a breeze floated by her. It made her shiver and her eyes darted around. Her eyes met the dumpster, where the boy was going to throw away the poor bike. Her feet slowly worked their way toward the boy, having the urge to at least talk to him. Cierra always wanted to help people. Anyone. Strangers or best friends, it didn't matter. Just as she was about to say something, something just appeared out of no where. His long dark hair covering most of his features. Though she could still spot the large taunting smile on his face as it spoke. Clicking together quickly, she knew exactally what it was. Cierra had never come across one before, but she had heard that the ghosts lurked around the city. Not being able to help her surprise of realization, she opened her mouth and made a large scream.

Seeing as she attracted un-wanted attention, she put both hands over her mouth as if it would help. She looked over at the boy she originally saw with the bike and back to the ghost, "You're... you're..." she gulped. The problem was she wasn't sure if the boy with the bike was a supernatural or not. It was forbidden to reveal supernatural creatures to humans. If he was anything, he might have known already. On the other hand, he might have no seen him appear out of no where, so wouldn't make the connection. Some supernatural creatures, like her for instance, were hidden easily. Trying as fast as she could, she managed to end with, "I mean uh... are you okay? That was a nasty crash..." Though as she directed this to the boy, her eyes kept nervously glancing over at the mysterious ghost, gulping. What was he going to do? She heard that the ghosts were a little... disturbed. Hense why the soul couldn't reach the other world. All her nerves told her to run in the other direction, but the urge to help and maybe protect the boy kept her feet from moving.

WELL I'M SORRY FOR ME TOO

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[fletcherellis]

Shaking his head of what just happened Fletcher propped his head into his hands for a moment and sighed disappointed in himself.Slowly opening his eyes he felt a cold rush of air pass by him and stop not far from where he was; Run, his first instinct was to run but if this "ghost" had some unfinished business he knew he wasn't going to stick around for the show. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a young kid around his age, no older sit next to him where the ghostly apparation had been.

Raising his bushy eyebrow he fit the puzzle pieces together and knew that this other boy was no other than the ghost himself."Yeah life doesn't do you any good does it"?. Fletcher heard the young man laugh bitterly wondering what had happened to him before he was... a ghost."Same accident like mine bro"?.He asked sharply.

Putting a hand above his eye from the sunlight he noticed a rather tall woman coming his way towards him and his 'casper' buddy.Fletcher knew this girl was part of the supernatural but he couldn't pinpoint it hearing her scream made him wince as she darted over,seeing as though she wasn't moving Fletcher stood up and nodded once from her previous question"Lucky I got out of there alive or I would of been just something else to toss in the garbage".Sitting down on the grass from where his bike was he sighed and took a deep breath.These two companions didn't seem so bad,maybe even like himself,he pondered and began to think that they would be the three musketeers.

[patrick]

Everything had been dandy. It seemed as if the young firetamer was unmoved by Guzzy's presence and the ghost was thrilled with his reaction. Life doesn't do you any good. Guzzy grinned broadly. Yes. He was very right about that one. Life was a bitch. It didn't produce anything resembling "good." If you wanted happiness, you had to make it yourself. Life didn't provide you with a break. The only reason people got lucky was because someone else made a little good for them. Or someone else fucked up enough that the lost opportunity at happiness was passed on to someone else. His company looked familiar. A firetamer. Where did he know this firetamer from? And then he remembered. The boy was an Ellis. While creeping around one of the Ellis' residences, he had seen the kid's face in a picture hanging on the wall. He was a little younger but it was certainly him. Guzzy was fascinated by the Ellis clan. They were such an incredibly large group of firetamers. For the most part, they even all shared a collective view of their supremacy over all other beings. But this was seemed to be a little different. He didn't scoff at Guzzy's presence like some tended to do. After all, Guzzy used to be human. Ghost or not, he was once a human. And some Ellis' didn't appreciate his former humanity.

The boy beside him, smart as he was, apparently, picked up the remaining pieces and Guzzy was just about to answer him. And then there was a nearly banshee-like scream and Guzzy narrowed his eyes in response, fighting the urge to whip his head around toward the noise. With a deep breath--which wasn't needed, considering the fact that ghosts didn't really need to breathe--he finally turned toward the girl, eyeing her suspiciously. She had screamed but she hadn't ran away. He wasn't positive whether or not this was a good sign. Regardless, if she was human and had seen his entrance, the boy beside him could easily tell her she was imagining things. She had acknowledged his presence. But she didn't not speak directly to Guzzy. Another good sign. She had to know what he was. He was almost positive that she was supernatural. He'd never seen this girl before, though, and was not willing to take a chance in exposing himself.

Guzzy stood when the Ellis boy did, following him for a moment before stopping in front of Cierra and offering her as winning of a smile as he could muster. Holding out his hand, Guzzy spoke slowly, letting the words fall lazily past his lips, "Enchante, mademoiselle." Without waiting for her to react, he merely grabbed one of her hands. A part of him was saddened by the warmth of her hand in his cold, dead palm. He felt her pulse and all he could think was that he should have been alive as well. He didn't let his thoughts register on his face, however, and instead, he held his smile. Planting a cold kiss on her knuckles, he slowly drew her toward the young firetamer. Perhaps he was being reckless. Stupid. But what was the worst that could happen if he went out on a limb and supposed that she knew all about them? The signs were there, after all. "Come and join us, doll face. I was just going to tell my new friend here a little story about the night I died." It was a risk. A huge risk. They would find a way to get rid of him had he made the wrong move. Then again, his existence wasn't quite purposeful. There was not much to lose. "But maybe we should try some introductions first?" Guzzy dropped her hand and sat across from Fletcher.

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[cierra]

OUTFIT

THE WATERWORKS BLOCKED HIS WORDS

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he felt sorry[/center]

Both of them looked at her when she screamed, and she regretted making such an entrance at once, as she felt both curious eyes on her. A sinking feeling came when she realized she was behaving like a scared fool (mostly because she was a scared fool). It seemed the boy knew the ghost was a ghost. The other solution was that he thought it was a normal human. Either way, he really didn't seemed alarmed, especially in a way like Cierra. She had always been the jumpy one though. Everything had gotten her paranoid. To much had happened to her for her not to be on her toes. The ghost didn't seem like a threat after he looked at her, but at the time, something appearing out of no where was really a heart stopping event. At least she knew about ghosts. So some random human wasn't popping out of no where.

They both stood up and she felt like jumping when they did, as she was on nerve already, but her only reaction was to be frozen like a deer in the headlights. Now the desperation to help whoever to make sure they were okay was starting to fade and it was fear for her own sake. She didn't do well in fear situations. Cierra froze, her heart started to beat, and nothing rational came into her head. It didn't occur to her to turn around and walk away as fast as her shoes could carry her. Her mind seemed to go blank and everything was focused on the thing in front of her. The sound of the boy's voice relaxed her a little bit. In an attempt to calm herself down, she managed to speak out a little bit in response, though it cracked a little in the beginning, "For a moment, I didn't think you were..."

Now it was the ghosts turn. She didn't dare take her hand to his, not sure what it would do. Would it go through like the ghosts on TV? She hadn't exactally ever met a ghost before. That was one of the supernaturals she didn't think were in exsistance. Now was living proof that she could throw away that theory. Then it spoke, and she took a quick gasp in, but didn't let the air come out of her lungs until the lips of the ghost came on her hand. The air let out was a little unstable and shaky, but other than that, she didn't show any other signs of fear besides standing there. She tried to be poliet and say hi back but nothing would come out of her mouth. She was none less than freaked out. This was just not something that happened to her every day.

When he brought her hand to the small circle, a faint pink rose to her cheeks. This, ghost or not, wasn't something that she experienced everyday. Most guys didn't bother with her. Correction- most people didn't bother with her. She was just kind of there, average and ordinary. No reason to speak with. Now there was an invite. Yet another gasp escaped her lips when he said 'when I died' so causually. It was rude to back out now. The ghost seemed fine... as did the boy, though she didn't have any suspicions to begin with. Her hand was dropped and it flopped to her side. Now it was her turn to talk to everyone. Even in a crowd of two, Cierra always had to gather up a little courage to speak in front of strangers. Most of the time, she just let them talk. Everything was so twisted around. Her head turned, "So... you are a..." She couldn't finish, so she turned to the boy, "And you know that he is?"

There was only two explanations for knowing that. He was a hunter or he was a supernatural himself. Cierra hadn't met a human who was aware of the world they were surrounded by. There was a reason for that. Most humans that found out died. Sighing at the introductions, she sighed, knowing that if she would say it first, than she could get it over with. Her arms were still covered in goosebumps, and her voice was still having troubles working, but she hoped that over the time they spent with each other, it would relax. It didn't seem like she was getting out of this one anytime soon. "I'm Cierra." She said in a voice that was probably the smoothest she had done since they all made eye contact.

WELL I'M SORRY FOR ME TOO

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[fletcherellis]

Fletcher smirked at the way the ghost responded and crosses his arms over his chest tapping his chin with his finger.As he turned his attention back toward the girl who was about to jump out of her skin, for a moment just a split second Fletcher thought that this girl would head for the hills and never look back once.Seeing her frozen in her tracks he put a hand over his mouth from hiding his laughter;of course he nor the ghost would harm her in fact Fletcher didn't even think ghouls had any powers besides turn invisible but than again those ghosts did have a thing or two up their sleeves.

Watching a paint of pink cast over her face he couldn't help but feel amused as she joined them rolling his eyes as she questioned the ghost and himself but sounding only as soft as a whisper she choked out"Yeah I know darn well what he is, I'm also part of the supernatural around here". he merely said. Fletcher didn't hide his surprise very well, he should of sworn that All humans knew about all the living... and the dead but this one was fragile like she was out of place but knew what she wanted and where she was headed all along.

Turning his attention back towards the ghost boy the other woman quietly spoke again telling them her name,reaching out his hand he simply replied"The name's Fletcher, Nice to meet you". And shook her hand softly.Watching his other company settle next to him he folded his hands behind his head and crossed his black converse over his legs.

[patrick]

Really, Guzzy was thrilled to pieces in regards to Cierra's response. He enjoyed hesitancy and fear to a certain extent. Of course, being more playful than thoroughly wicked, he didn't enjoy it for too long. So being that she expressed a hesitance and then was so slow to warm up to the idea, he was absolutely taken with the girl. Obviously, she k new of their races, having stuck around this long and remained at least a bit receptive to his light conversation, if you could consider 'death' being an easy subject to speak about. For Guzzy, it generally was. Although his dying was definitely an inconvenience and he would kill the guy back in the day that had crashed into him, he was, for the most part, over the actual death. It was having to leave his mother alone in that nursing home that he was least comfortable with. Leaving her there, by herself, to do nothing but sit and rot without her only family by her side. Now that was the real bullshit. So he wouldn't tell them about that. He had rights to keep things from people. He didn't tell many people about his mom. At least, not yet. Didn't need to. Didn't matter.

Suddenly, although it had become painstakingly obvious, she still felt a need to ask questions about Guzzy's existence and he grinned crookedly. He got this every once in awhile. A skeptic that needed it straight forward. They needed all the proof in the world to prove that he was indeed a ghost and that they weren't going crazy. Or that he wasn't an angel or some other supernatural creature that could hide themselves from the world's eye. But finally, the Ellis boy spoke up and Guzzy nodded at his words; a very proud firetamer that did not hold back for a second. He found that he was impressed by the boy's blunt nature and easy posture. For Guzzy, gravity wasn't too much of a problem, even solid, so he could lay or sit however he liked really. The girl introduced herself as Cierra and his initial companion tossed out the name of Fletcher. Fletcher Ellis. Definitely a name he'd heard before. And he was positive that he had seen that face in a picture frame. He acted sort of like an Ellis, cocky and brave as he was. It fit together. But he was a bit different. His slight arrogance was more so due to his age than a belief that he was superior. Refreshing.

"Guzzy. People just call me Guzzy." Simple enough introduction. He allowed his company to settle in, Fletcher doing so very easily and without hesitance. And the girl. She just stood there, beautiful as she was. Reminded him of the cheerleader type back when he was in school. You know. Minus the exaggerated eighties hair and leg warmers. Pretty, celestial nose, slender figure. The kind of girl he hadn't really talked to back then, mostly because they wanted nothing to do with him. Cliques were far more prominent and influential in the eighties. They decided a good majority of one's social activities and friendships. So that he was hanging out with women like Cierra now was a bit of a delight for him. Now it was okay. God, to be young in this millennium. Lucky kids. Clearing his throat, Guzzy cracked his knuckles, settling in, fully prepared to make some sort of ass of himself. But people tended to like him for his jackassery. It was almost sweet, endearing. "All right. So it started like this," he began dramatically, looking between Fletcher and Cierra respectively, "I went to this party. It was some buds from high school that had invited me. Just some reunion thing thrown by a preppy the next summer after having graduated. Sounded like a good idea. When I got there, people were wild, and when I say wild, man, it was fuckin' awesome. Didn’t do anything though; when you ride a bike, the odds are already against you on the road."

Here, he paused and glanced over at Cierra, "Did I mention I used to ride a bike, sweetheart? Shame I don't anymore. You woulda looked nice on the back, eh?" He offered her an exaggerated wink, laughed and turned back toward Fletcher, tossing him a look that said, 'sorry, dude.' His expression was one of sheer joy and mischief. If only he wasn't working against the pull of becoming invisible once again, he would almost feel alive. "Then again, judging after what happened later, I better never see you on anyone's bike, Ci." He sighed, raising his brows and folding his arms across his chest. "So I left when the cops came. They tried to get me for drinkin' but like I said, I didn't have a drop. So after dicking around like they do with kids like me, they let me go and I was on my way home. Minding my own business. About five minutes in, some asshole comes tearing around the corner in a pick-up. Most likely some drunk ass from the party. He skidded around the corner and I turned the opposite direction to avoid him except he overcorrected and decided to turn the same way. Caught the front of my bike and I flew right off. After that, I don't remember much." The last bit was true. Unless you counted the coma. The point where he hung in the balance, watching his mother from a half-dead vantage point. Watching her cry and knowing that this was it.

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[cierra]

OUTFIT

THE WATERWORKS BLOCKED HIS WORDS

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he felt sorry[/center]

Cierra was still shaking a little bit. It was weird to see everyone was so relaxed. They seemed weirded out that she was weirded out. The boy told her he knew what the ghost was as if it was obvious. Of course, what other creature would just appear out of no where? Very casually, he also announced that he too was a supernatural. This interested Cierra as well, as she was one too. Looking into his dark deep black eyes, she saw he wasn't a warlock. That was the only one she knew of that could have a sign right off the bat. He could have had deep scars on his back to indicate he was a demon or fallen angel, in which she would be wary of both. Both had been fallen or demons for reasons, though she didn't know all the details of it. All she had heard was rumors and little things she had experienced. Warlocks were fimilar because her best friend was a witch.

Guzzy gave her a half smile and she ducked her head in embarassment from her own stupid question. In her panic modes, she wasn't exactally the smartest person in the world. She tended to avoid the obvious and be so dumb stricken that she didn't realize if she calmed down for five seconds, she could logically think something through. Instead, she was doing what she did now. Her mind was so twisted and confused that she barely heard what the boy said. His name was Fletcher. He offered his hand out to her, which she took. She already took the hand of the ghost, might as well with the human. Cierra made an uneasy smile at him, forcing one up to be poliete, but still a little too wound up to try to smile in greeting. A ghost next to her talking about the day he died was not something she woke up thinking she was going to do that day. If ever.

The ghost then introduced himself as Guzzy. Cierra could only assume that wasn't the full name of him, as not many parents would name his kids that (though she had been surprised before) but she didn't want to ask for his real name. It wasn't any of her buisness. He began on the story, and she found herself almost leaning in on intensity. Before it began, she prepared herself for the emotional terror the story may have brought. Considering she was overly emotional, she tended to try to brace herself. A death at what looked like a young age couldn't be a happy story of dying of age. He commented on her being on the back of the bike, and she turned bright pink, putting her hand delicately on her cheek in a pathetic attempt to cover it. Picturing her on the back of the bike was frightning. If anyone ever dared to ask her, they would find her squeezing them so hard that they could probably barely breath for as nervous as she would be.

As the story began to un-fold, her embarassed face slowly changed to sad and stricken. Cierra forgot for a moment that he was a scary ghost she was frightened of. Though it was too late, she wanted to help in some form. Her heart warmed and ached for the story. This, unfortunately, happened quite often. The saddest part of that story was he did nothign wrong. It was someone else drinking. Notice none fo the people drinking and driving died? It was always the victums who they ran into that got the worse of everything. The drinker had a burden to carry, but it couldn't have been nearly as heavy as the dead soul like Guzzy appearing in front of her. She wanted to cry, but she kept it in, knowing that it would do no good, especially to people she had just met, "I'm so sorry. That's awful..." She soothed softly. Her glance gazed over at Fletcher. To think that could have been him swirving out of the truck that fast. "I'm really sorry that happened." She repeated, out of words for what else to add.

WELL I'M SORRY FOR ME TOO

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[JURATE]

THIS IS CLOSED. IF IT NEEDS MOVING BACK, PM AN ADMIN WITH THE LOCATION AND THREAD NAME.