New Era Garage - Parking Lot
It's high noon, or as close to noon as one can get considering that Dawson usualy ends up staying up with the bar crew until near dawn each night. After a few hours sleep and a quick shower, he rolls up to the garage and leaves the main gates open for the two who are supposed to meet him here today.
Sumter isn't long in coming. He rolls up astride his Harley Davidson Road King, pulling in to park. "Dawson," he says as he kicks the kickstand down and kills the engine. He swings his leg over the saddle, stepping over to clap the younger man on the shoulder. "Y'all ready t' git this done?"
The rumble of a bike engine approaches from the west, slowly growing louder before Sierra comes into view. A turn and she moves the bike through the open gate, pulling up inside the parking lot close to where Sumter has arrived before her. The stand down and she slips off, running a hand back through her hair after the ride, straightening and putting some life into it. "So this is it..", she says, taking a look around. "It should polish up nice."
Once they have arrived, Dawson's quick to hit the remote and close the gates to prevent anyone and anything from sneaking inside. He seems almost paranoid about leaving them open for too long and kicks a leg out to dismount his bike. "Hey bud," he walks up towards Sumter and offers the man his hand. With Sierra away from public ears he's finally able to explain, at least the basics, of what's going on. "Remember that creepy place that Jack liked to go for his weirdness? Yeah...this place is worse. Sumter here's gonna help us get the bad juju out of the walls so we can kinda move in."
Sumter clasps Dawson's hand warmly, leaning in for a quick one-armed bro-hug around the shoulders. He looks back to Sierra and nods. "Yes'm," he says, hooking his thumb towards the garage. "There's some -real- fucked up shit goin' on in the spirit world over yonder. But... I'ma call in some good guys to help us clear 'em out." That said, he goes over to his bike and starts rummaging in the saddlebags. Out comes... an incense burner, wrought in the shape of a reclining Lord Ganesha. Some cones of sandalwood incense. A jar of something clear and yellow. Another jar full of grayish-white powder. A bottle of water. And... a potted pot plant, lush and green. All of these things are laden with magickal power, for those with the Awareness to sense such things. Tass of various forms, filled with Quintessence.
Izayah pages: I'm tired. Frustrated.
There's nothing like a bit of privacy when you have some weird abilities that might freak out the casual bystander. "I remember you saying..", Sierra replies to Dawson, her hand rising, a click of the fingers creating a flame to appear - roughly the size of a zippo lighter flame when it's turned up way too high. "Are you sure we can't just burn it down?", she teases, a twirl of the finger causing the flame to fly away from her toward the garage, changing shape into a tiny adorable fire dragon that performs a few spins before the flame finally burns out.
Watching Sumter, she asks, "So, you're another sorcerer..? Or something else?", obviously informed on these sorts of things; especially considering her now displayed power.
"He's like me...and Jack," Dawson quickly interjects - trying to maintain whatever sense of privacy that Sumter might want to maintain for the time being. "Just kinda different with his approach." With that little bit of detail covered he explains that burning the place down would be no better than just moving the headstones of a graveyard. "The bad stuff is still there - building or not. So if we clear it out then it'll be fine...besides, I can't afford another big build right now."
Sumter watches Sierra's display with a low whistle. "That's purty impressive," he says. "I kin do basic work with energy, but I can't do any firestartin' yet. I don't know the miracle for it yet. An' to answer yer question... I reckon I am. I belong to an order o' mysticks called the Cult of Ecstasy. Though I prefer 'Seers o' Chronos' my own self. Sounds a bit cooler t' me." He turns to the garage and squares his shoulders. "A'right... this might could git ugly. So... y'all be ready fer anything." He glances between the two. "I kin give you both spirit sight if you need me to."
Izayah pages: I'm about to drop my kid off in the middle of no where and drive away.
Listening to Dawson, Sierra nods in understanding, "So it's not like a haunting, it's more rooted into the soil..?". Huh, maybe she's not so clueless after all. "Spirits aren't my thing, I'll leave that to you two.", raising her hands, palm forward, as if admitting defeat.
"I'd stick to Chronos, that has a good sound to it.", she admits, agreeing with Sumter. "Cult of Ecstasy sounds like a strip joint.", a little grin given to the man, before she's moving over to him. "You want some help there?", looking at all the things he's pulled out. And then there's the mention of spirit sight; it's a moment of excitement mixed with fear, the thought of being able to see the unseen, view the dead. It's probably the first time either of them have seen her waver for quite some time. "Yeah.. yeah, sure.", she nods, uncertain but not wanting to lose face.
Dawson hrms and looks between Sumter and the garage. "Do you want to do it inside or do we have to surround the place or what?" He seems both interested and confused at the same time. The white-haired, young sorcerer is familiar with some rituals involving spirits but this is beyond his paygrade - for now.
Sumter nods his head, letting Sierra take some of the items off his hands. "Thanks," he says. He looks over to Dawson. "I wanna be right in the middle of it. The deva I'm callin' up is gonna be a big'un. I wanna make sure it gits ever'thing." He turns to start heading for the garage.
Of all the things to grab, Sierra decides on the potted plant, brushing her fingers briefly over one of the leaves as she follows along toward the garage. "How dangerous is this, physically?", she asks along the way, "Is anything likely to manifest?". Reaching behind her with her free hand, she pulls a heavy pistol out from the back of her jacket, checks it over then asks, "Will this be any use?", letting it be seen before returning it to the hidden holster.
Dawson hrms, "I've never tried to shoot a spirit before," He turns to Sumter as though asking for advice or comment, "Would that even work?" he asks uncertain of the effect of trying a material solution to a non-material problem.
New Era Garage - Shop
Sumter considers the firearms as he steps into the garage. He sets down his gear, rubbing his beard thoughtfully. Then, he reaches around to his back, under his jacket, drawing a Beretta 9mm pistol. "Lemme see yer guns," he says as he seats himself in a lotus posture. Assuming he's given the firearms, he sets them in his lap and bows his head. He rests his left hand against his chest, the thumb curling to touch his index finger, while the right is raised, palm out. He looks nothing more than like a meditating Buddha. "Aum mani padme hummmmm..." he intones softly. "Aum mani padme hummmm..." And as his voice incants the ancient words, power begins to gather in the palm of his hand. Bright, shining, and gold, yet invisible to those who cannot see the metaphysical world. He sweeps his hand over the guns, touching them each in turn, letting that power flow into their ammunition. The invisible light passing from his palm to the bullets, making them glow with mystic radiance. "-There-," he says after a moment. "-Now- you kin shoot spirits with 'em."
When Sumter sits down on the ground, Sierra moves closer, crouches down and places the plant down beside. Reaching back again, she pulls out her pistol and passes it over to the large man, then watches him do his work. There's no sarcasm or teasing here, she's seen people work their magic before and knows it's serious work, so watches on with a respectful gaze.
Once the spell, whatever it might have been, is over, she takes the weapon back, looks it over, then chambers a round with a chunk-chunk. "Now /that/ will be useful.". "I don't suppose..", she starts, but lets that drop off, a discussion for another time, a shake of her head; there's work to be done here. The weapon placed back in its holster, she gathers up the plant and rises back up to standing.
Dawson does a quick tour of the place but doesn't move around much. "The shop is still in good shape - through there's what looks to be an office or crew room for the mechanics that used to work here. Oh...and there's like a weird cellar back there too - but I haven't been down there 'cept once." He mostly just opens doors and points at places - almost too worried to touch things or to make much of a stir in the place. Even with the smell of bleach, pinesol and industrial cleaners to get rid of the physical grime around the old garage there's still that lingering film of corruption and toxic sludge that hangs in the air.
Sumter holsters his own weapon and goes to get set up. Putting all the Tass within easy reach, and resting a cone of incense in the incense burner. "Okay," he says. "I think we's ready t' do this." He looks between Dawson and Sierra. "Y'all ready for some spirit eyes?"
Dawson nods and digs into his bag for a wickedly curved blade and sticks it under his belt for one of those 'oh-shit' moments. "Sure bud..."
Once Sumter has his hands free, Sierra passes over the plant, then follows the locations pointed out, nodding slowly, "A weird cellar..", not even needing to add anymore to that. The reminder of 'spirit eyes' has her breath in sharply for a moment, nodding to Sumter. "Sure.."
(Sumter's Rolls)
- Sumter rolls Arete vs 4 for 2 successes.
- Sumter rolls Arete vs 4 for 3 successes.
Sumter seats himself before the idol. Digging out his Zippo, he sparks it to light the incense. Fresh sandalwood smoke begins to rise, and he presses his hands together, bowing at the waist. "Aummmmm..." He repeats the meditative sound a few times, his voice low and rolling, setting up a vibration to bring him in harmony with the world beyond ours. After awhile, he lifts his hands, holding them out. "Gimme yer hands," he says softly, without raising his head.
Dawson offers his hands to Sumter, trying to record what he's seeing for future reference. Though he's not much for Indian stuff, he can at least follow the basics of a ritual preparation. Keeping his mouth shut and his eyes open, they occasionally flick to Sierra. He gives her a reassuring grin like he was saying 'well, here we go again'.
Moving over to join Sumter, Sierra kneels down with her legs together, rests back to sit upon her feet; it gives her enough freedom to stand quickly should she need to. Sharing the memory with Dawson, she gives the man a nod of understanding, then reaches over, places her hand onto Sumter's
Sumter's hands wrap gently around Sierra's and Dawson's. And as they do... the spirit world comes alive in their vision. The sickness and filth becomes immediately apparent, with all its clinging, cloying presence. But Sumter himself is a powerfully radiant presence in the spirit world. The silver sphere of his Avatar faintly visible within the center of his chest, a star in minature. He releases their hands. "An' now we begin," he says softly. He presses his palms together and bows low once again. He lifts up his voice in a smooth, rolling sing-song tone. "O mighty Indra, blessed and benevolent. You who are Lord of all the Devas, You who bringeth rain and flower, hear the cry of Thy children. See how we languish in this place of wickedness and sorrow!"
He reaches out for the jar filled with yellow stuff--ghee. He opens it and pours it out before the idol. "To you, O mighty and fragrant Lord, I give this gift, in gladness." He sets the empty jar aside, and picks up the jar of powder. He begins sifting it around where he poured out the ghee. "To you, O mighty and fragrant Lord, I give this gift, in gladness." Then, at the last, he takes the pot plant. Tearing the leaves off, one by one, he shreds them in his fingers, sprinkling them over the whole. "To you, O mighty and fragrant Lord, I give this gift, in gladness."
He raises his hands high in supplication. "Hear me, O divine and benevolent Indra! I humbly beg of You, send to us a mighty deva, to wash this place clean! Shower us with pure waters, and draw aside the clouds! Gate! Gate! Paragate! Aum ni svaha! Aum ni svahah!"
This is not Dawson's first time seeing the spirit world but he's never seen it like this. The grown man almost flinches away from the corruption and toxic smut that seems to exist as a layer of flim; like smoke after a house fire. Thankfully he's able to keep his cool, relatively, and not yelp like a frightened child.
Feeling the tingle at the back of her eyes, Sierra decides to keep them closed for a while, unsure if she really wants to see the spirit world. But slowly, she calms her mind, rests her hands on her thighs and breathes in the scent of the burning incense, calming herself.
Her eyes slowly open, the filth surrounding the area now visible to her, her gaze moving across the entire garage before falling to rest on Dawson. 'What the fuck..?', her mouth moving, lips easily read, though she doesn't speak so as not to disturb Sumter.
(SUMTER's ROLLS)
- Sumter rolls Arete vs 5 for 1 successes.
- Sumter rolls Arete vs 5 for 1 successes.
- Sumter rolls Arete vs 5 for 0 successes.
- Sumter loses one Willpower
- Sumter loses one Magical Essence
- Sumter rolls Arete vs 5 for 2 successes.
- Sumter loses one Magical Essence
- Sumter rolls Arete vs 5 for 4 successes.
- Sumter loses one Magical Essence
- Sumter rolls Arete vs 5 for 2 successes.
The spiritual presence begins to... move. The toxic sludge slowly but surely beginning to seethe across the walls, and underneath the floor. There's a low, burbling -growl- that oozes forth from the very walls of the place. But Sumter continues on undaunted. "O mighty Indra, I beg of Thee, accept these gifts and bless us with Thy deva!" he calls, his voice strong and undaunted. High in the rafters overhead, -things- can be seen to move. Gaunt, skeletal, grinning skull-faces with too-long fingers, peeking out from the rafters and dropping their jaws to let long, dripping tongues loll out. <<WE HUNGERRRRRR...>> hisses a malevolent voice, those otherworldly intelligences fixated upon the offerings Sumter has given to the Lord of the Devas. <<FLESSSSSSSHHHH...>> Like grotesque spiders, the -things- begin to descend from the rafters, converging upon the trio.
But even now, Sumter remains fearless. He lifts his head and fixes his gaze upon the toxic spirits, rising to his feet and lifting his hand in abjuration. "I deny you," he snarls, his voice thrumming with all the terrible might of his Awakened self. "I -forbid- you! This place is not fer you! These vessels are not fer you! Nor this offering!" He curls his hands into fists. Under spirit sight, the spheres of power he ignites around them blaze like starlight, seething and potent. "BEGONE!" he roars in a voice full of thunder. "Or by Shiva, by Ganesha, an' by Brahma, I will -strike- you from the Wheel of Karma!"
Bieta pages: So...I paged you up about out of date info? No big deal.
Ok, so the skeletal things get Dawson's attention. He turns to look at them and is filled with a mixture of curiosity, apprehension and a mild degree of fear. Where as some might ask themselves 'how' such a thing could manifest or 'why' these things gathered in this place of all places; the young sorcerer can't help but to wonder 'what if'.
But, as the spidery things start to skitter and crawl around the chamber he gets a bit more nervous. Skeletons are one thing - he's quite used to that - but spiders...yeah...those things should be killed.
<OOC> Sumter says, "http://news.toyark.com/wp-content/uploads/sites/4/2019/02/NECA-Newborn-Alien-Figure-016.jpg"
That catches her attention, the filth was bad enough, but seeing it start to move, to ooze into shapes, that has Sierra pushing quickly back to her feet. Though she remains next to Sumter, her hand reaches back, pulls her heavy pistol back into view.
Turning on the spot, she looks around her, watching creatures crawling down the walls, black spider-like things that are completely inhuman. Though she still has nightmares of Mexico and the things that happened there, this is something else. "Sumter..?", she asks, raising her pistol, aiming at one, quickly switching to another as it seems to be moving closer.
Landing on the ground, green-black sludge dripping from their spindly limbs, the toxic spirits circle the group, walking on their fingertips and toes while lashing their tongues. <<FLESSSSSHHHH...>> One of them lifts an arm, pointing a finger at Sumter. <<YOU HOLD NO DOMINION OVER USSSS MAGUSSSSSS... WE WILL HAVE YOUR FLESHHH...>> Sumter lifts his fists, looking ready to throw down with the things. "You come any closer an' I'ma -show- you dominion, you sick, filthy shit!" he snarls. The spirits circle the three, a high-pitched tittering rolling forth from them. Sumter looks from them to his friends. "If they come at us... give 'em hell," he growls softly. So focused is everyone on the spirits, that the soft, sweet-smelling breeze that stirs the incense smoke might go unnoticed...
Dawson pulls out his knife and starts scoring a circle into the concrete slab around them. It's not perfect by any stretch but once he finally gets it done, the young 'warlock' cuts his thumb enough to draw some blood and presses the finger down onto the mark. His eyes close as he starts to recite an incantation that sounds like a weird mix of latin and some fantasy language that seems to make sense to him at least.
Sumter should start to feel the effects of a ward going up around them; it's not much but it might by them some time - assuming that it would work on them at all.
The pistol shifts targets again, the one pointing a finger at Sumter. "This one drops first.", Sierra replies. A quick aim to the side and she fires off a single shot; it doesn't have a target, but through her newly acquired spirit sight, the bullet streams with magical energy from Sumters previous incantation, leaves a line of cleansing light behind it before it impacts into a solid metal part on the shelving and ricochets upwards into the roof.
"You see that? Keep coming, I dare you.", the twitch of her hand putting the weapon aim straight back at the pointing spirit. "How much longer..?", she asks in a lower voice, aimed down at Sumter.
The blessed bullet screams through the spirit, and the spirit shrieks. Its plasmic form rippling where the bullet passed through it, sending a splatter of hissing green bile all over the wall behind it. The other spirits hiss with hatred and malice. And as the ward that Dawson empowers flares to life, they lash their tongues. <<INSOLENSSSSSE...>> One of them leaps forward, claws extended with a shriek, only to be hurled back by a flash of light from Dawson's ward. The other spirits circle like starving dogs. <<YOU CANNOT SSSSTAY THERE FOREVER, MORTALSSSSS...>>
Forgotten by all, the incense from the Ganesha idol quickens, the trail of smoke growing thicker, gaining substance. "Aum mani padme hum..." sings a voice from that smoke. Unlike the hissing, hateful tones of the toxic spirits, this one is bright and melodious. From outside the garage, the sound of thunder rumbling can be heard, even though it was a clear blue sky overhead when the trio entered. Sumter looks up, and his expression lights up with a smile. "I think the cavalry's comin'!" Another spirit tries to push past the ward, hissing and skree'ing. Sumter snaps his fist out, his eyes flashing like lightning. A bolt of that silver starlight lances forth, blasting the spirit back with a skree. "Hang on, friends, help's a-comin'!"
Sweat starts to bead upon the young warlock's brow as he continues chanting, hoping that his words somehow strengthen the barrier against the attacks. Dawson's eyes, closed for the begining of his ritual, stay squinted as the s-curved blade in his hand starts to glow with a green light vaguely similar to a glow stick. The glow is dim at first, perhaps just a reflection of some nearly shaft of light, but as he continues to focus his power, the light continues to intensify. The barrier's power shifts slightly and it turns from the equilalent of an electrostatic discharge to that of a fiery scorch of green-hot fire.
The moment the creatures start advancing is when Sierra kicks into action. Raising her arm, she peers down the sights and fires off a single shot, another stream of magical light streaking across the garage like a lightning bolt, impacting into the things head. Before she can fire again, she senses the movement, the leap of another behind her.
Unaware of the ward, she drops low, spinning at the same time, raises the pistol, all done in one swift motion; boom boom, the loud sound of the heavy pistol fires again, a classic double tap, magically infused bullets smashing into the creature as it stumbles back from the ward.
And then the weather changes, the rumble of thunder, the woman looking upwards as if expecting something to come smashing through the roof at any moment. Not that she has time to see it, another quick twirl as her pistol aims at another target.
No, nothing comes smashing through the ceiling. But there -is- a loud peal of thunder that rings out throughout the garage. A flash of bright blue light from the idol as the incense smoke takes the form of a blossoming lotus flower. From the center of the blossom rises a golden-armored figure. Four-armed, crowned, holding two daggers, a lotus blossom, and a reed. It balances on one foot, its eyes bright with fire. Those arms sweep high, and the figure sings a single, bell-like note. And from up above...
It begins as a gentle shower at first. Rain, pure and clear, pattering down to start sizzling the toxic sludge that oozes slowly around the floor, right up to the edges of the ward. The toxic spirits hiss, turning their black eyes upward. The one that Sierra shot mewling as its spiritual form wavers from the wound it's been dealt. It looks up just in time for a lightning bolt to blast it into smithereens. <<NOOOO! NOOO! THEEEESE BELONG TO USSSSS!>> The toxic spirits turn their attention from the trio to the brilliantly shining deva, the incarnation of Indra, the Purifier, Lord of Storms, Bringer of Wisdom. The deva simply smiles, and sings that note again.
FWOOSSH! A sphere of crackling blue power explodes out from the deva, sweeping out across the floor of the garage. With a keening wail, the toxic spirits are caught up in that blast wave, their essence scoured out of existance with cleansing radiance. The rains pour down in earnest now, washing the filth away from the rafters, from the walls, from the floor. Carrying away the remnants of the filth that once stained this place, leaving it pure. Even Sumter can only stare in awe at the deva's display as the last of the toxins are swept away. "Gawd -damn-," he whispers.
With the Fwoosh and the rush of power that scowers away the blighted spirits from the garage, Dawson staggers forward and lets his eyes open. The glow of his blade fades as his concentration lapses and whatever strength he was channeling into the ward fades just as quickly. In his unfocused state, the warlock starts to stumble and pitches towards the others, his vision blurred a bit and his head a in a dizzying spiral.
Just one more, that should keep them back for a few seconds, Sierra raising her pistol to aim a shot but then the rains start; rain falling inside, and it seems to be hurting these things. Lowering her weapon back down, she looks around to find a deva smiling in front of her, eyes widening at the sight, something she's only heard of in books or seen in movies.
Her arms drop to her side as she stares at the thing, her fingers lose their grip on her pistol and it falls, clatters to the floor, then there's the sudden explosion of power that seems to snap her out of it, the woman looking quickly around to watch the last of the creatures be swept away in the rain.
Unable to find any words, not even 'Gawd damn' seems enough, her attention is instead pulled to Dawson when she spots him stumbling and pitching. A quick step over and she slips an arm around his waist, pulls him into her to be used as a support. "Hey? You alright? Still with us?", reaching up to his face, trying to turn it so she can see how he is.
Sumter steps forward, eyes bright and shining as he beholds the glory of the deva before him. He swallows a couple times, before dropping to his knees. He leans forward, until his forehead touches the ground. One hand reaches forward to rest atop the deva's foot. "Namaste," he whispers. A single word, yet filled with awe, wonder, reverence, and humility. The deva smiles, lowering a single hand to rest atop Sumter's head. <<We accept your gift, in gladness, O beloved disciple.>> And just like that... the vision ends. The deva vanishes in a swirl of incense smoke. Slowly, Sumter rises back up to his knees, resting his fist to his heart. "Thank you," he whispers.
That's when he hears Sierra. He looks over his shoulder, and scrambles to his feet. "Aw -shit-... Dawson, you okay, buddy? They din't gitcha, did they?" He goes over to help Sierra, setting himself on Dawson's other side to help support him. "C'mon, let's git 'im into some fresh air."
The warlock seems just out of it kinda drained from channeling whatever concentration he had into the ward. He probably went -way- overboard on whatever protective measure that it could have provided but he didn't know what they were facing. "That's...that's a HELL of a lot of...whatever the fuck those were." He quickly regains his balance and slides the blade back into its sheath. Checking around he makes sure that everyone's where they should be and in one piece.
"Yeah, I'm ok. Sierra?" he asks, more than a hint of concern in his tone for her safety.
"Good. Because you need to lay off those fries..", Sierra patting Dawson's stomach before making a show of trying to escape the weight she's trying to support. Taking a step or two over, she leans down to gather up her pistol, rubs it along her jeans to wipe away some of the water, before returning it to the holster beneath her jacket.
"I'm fine.", she replies, turning to face the two, "No worries here.". Sumter might not be able to see it, he doesn't know her as well, but Dawson sees through her 'tells', can see that she's relieved it's over. "/That/. Was some impressive magic. Was that thing real?", she asks of Sumter, pointing toward where the deva had been a few seconds before.
Sumter looks relieved as Dawson says he's okay. The pistol itself has no water--in fact, once Sumter brings the spirit vision spell to its end, there's not a drop anywhere to be found. It was all contained within the spirit world. But... the refreshing presence of that rain lingers. The oppressive, toxic resonance all washed clean, leaving the garage spiritually pure. "Yes'm, it surely was," he says in answer to Sierra's question, grinning broadly. "That was an incarnation of Indra. I figgered we was gonna need the big guns t' git this done. An' I was right. Those things... eugh." He shudders, shaking his head. "Y'all done -amazin'- work, though. -Damn- amazin' work. I'm proud t' call you my friends."
It takes Dawson a second to step past the circle he quickly marked in the concrete slab but he was just being...uh...cautious. Finally he decides that the coast is clear and he walks over to lean on something - anything as if he needed to start feeling around with his senses to pick up any ambient spiritual presences.
"It's weird. The whole place smells like rain - or like after a storm that blew in..." he smiles at the big bear of a man and then over to Sierra. "This was just -one- of the projects that I've been workin on. The Styx is just there for us to play with. This..." he points to the ground as though he were speaking of the garage in total, "...is just for us."
The realisation that she had just witnessed something akin to a God has Sierra's eyes widening, having to take a few moments to let that one settle. "I don't know how it would have gone if they got through to us. That was you, wasn't it?", she asks of Dawson, "I saw Jack do the same thing.".
Hearing the praise and the pride, Sierra moves closer to Sumter, "I'm going to do something. I don't normally do this, and if anyone finds out..", deciding to just shut up and place her arms around the big man, giving him a hug for a second, then stepping back to give him a light punch in the gut. "Don't get any ideas.".
Then she's looking around at their freshly claimed territory, taking a few steps to get a better view on things. "This should be good.", she nods.
Sumter nods his head. "This place is ours now. Full an' complete. We kin do anything here." He grins a bit. "'course, seein' as I'm a mechanic, -I- cain't wait t' start workin' on some bikes!" He looks over to Sierra as she approaches. When she goes in for the hug, he's all too happy to return it, clapping her warmly on the back. "Whut, me? Idears? Perish the thought." He laughs warmly as he steps back, hooking his thumbs in his belt loops. "Well... I reckon we got ourselves a mighty fine reason t' celebrate!"
