2018.07.01: Painted Desert Ride
| Painted Desert Ride | |
|---|---|
| Lleu borrows a bike and takes an evening ride into the desert. He finds another biker along the side of the road and stops to render assistance. | |
| IC Date | Sun Jul 1st, 2018 |
| IC Time | 17:53:50 2018, PDT. |
| Players | Lleutrim, Carolyn |
| Location | Cobre Desert |
| Spheres | Mortal, Changeling |
Cobre Desert
Cobre desert, or Copper desert got its name for the lush minerals that are abundant here within. Often rich in copper ore around the area, several old mines back from the old days still reside within and around the area, though travelers tend to stay away from such due to the dangers within the abandoned mines themselves of collapse, suffocation as well as getting lost. Though it is not uncommon to stumble across one of the old mines within and possibly find something to take back home as a 'prize' or treasure for safe keeping if one is daring enough.
Often several minerals can be found within the great Cobre desert as rocks of *all* types can be found around and about. If one is lucky enough, and knows where to look, it might even be possible to find pieces of a meteor, which would fetch a good price for sure at a local college or university. The air around and about the area is hot like every day, cold and chilly through the nights long. Wildlife seems to thrive here within and around as sounds of the desert mingle with the blasting of the wind through different times throughout the day.
---
Evening paints the desert in the colors of the sun as it lowers into the west. Shadows are lengthening and the heat of day yet lingers in the rocks and hardpan, but is rapidly beginning to cool. The coming night may be chilly by comparison but isn't yet.
A lone rider cruises at about 80 miles an hour across a thin strip of highway that cuts through the landscape. Riding a loaner Harley Davidson Fatboy, the rider is wearing a black leather jacket and helmet with a Middle Eastern keffiyeh worn around his throat and over his lower face. Goggles protect his eyes, black leather gloves for his hands. After working in a garage all day, it's nice to get out for the remainder of his day off and get some space. The bike roars, a somewhat older and not very shiny ride, but it has a good sound. Leather saddlebags on the back are lightly laden. Donnachaidh has no particular destination in mind and is simply heading away from Prospect for a while.
Carolyn isn't riding, though it's apparent she was. She's pulled off on the side of the road, leaning on the bike and looking to the west and the setting sun. The bike is a newish but not new harley 883 iron, sitting sideways on its kickstand.
The approaching rider slows down as he was ripping up the blacktop and gaining speed. The gears drop and the engine breaks in a long slow deceleration as he can see the other rider off the side of the road for a good distance before Lleu's going to get to her. Eventually he brings the bike to a stop, keeps the clutch held in his left hand and reaches over with his right to tug down the keffiyeh to uncover his lower face. "You all right?"
Carolyn watches as the rider slows and stops. "Eh. I'm fine. The bike's not so good. I think the ignition died. It was doing great and just gave up." She shrugs. "And no phone service out here. It was going to be a long walk home, so I'm glad you stopped." She smiles a little. "gotta admit the keffiyeh had me worried a minute."
The fella smiles, then pulls his bike ahead a little and off of the road. He kills the engine and then steps off, taking a moment to remove his helmet and goggles to leave them with his bike. The keffiyeh he also removes to stow. "I just wear it to protect my face and neck." Now she can clearly see Lleu's face as he walks over and pulls off his gloves, "Not sure I can help you with your bike. I'm no mechanic but we can check a few simple things. Worse case scenario I can give you a lift into town and you can call a tow." He looks her over and notes she isn't wearing even a jacket out here, though she might have one stowed on the bike, "Name's Lleu. I promise I'm no highway robber, if you aren't."
"Carolyn," she replies, offering a hand. "Glad to see there's not an arab nose under the keff...I wasn't looking forward to being called all sorts of names. But, sure, check waht you want. I'm no mechanic either." She does have a pack strapped on the back of the bike that looks like it might have a few things in it. "If you get it working great...if not Ill take that ride back and at least buy you a beer for it. In the meantime, staring at the sunset and enjoying the solitude has been nice."
Lleutrim laughs softly, "No, I'm not Muslim. Not about to rape you because you are indecently dressed and call you an Infidel." The hand is accepted, his grip firm but brief along with direct eye contact. His own grey eyes flick to the horizon, "It is nice out here." Donnachaidh comes around the bike and after tucking his gloves away into the pockets of his jacket, he unzips it and then squats down to look the body of the bike over. "Pull your battery cover off for me, won't you? Do you know how to do that on this model? Do you have any tools with you?"
Carolyn does know and she pulls the cover, then digs in the pack and comes out with a small tool kit....pliers and a couple other things. "You spend some time over there," she asks while watching him work. The air's still warm, the evening chill not settling in yet as the sun's still above the horizon.
She gets that side panel off the little sportster to expose the battery and Lleu checks the placement of her key, or it's absence, before he has a look. "Put the key in and let's see if you have any lights. I'll check to see if any of these wires are loose - you let me know if the lights flicker off or come on. I assume you checked your gas and reserve tanks?" First, let them see if the battery is giving it any juice for lights or if it's a no go. "Yeah, I've played in the Sandbox a few times. Various places, multiple tours. You?" He glances up at her as they try to troubleshoot what's wrong with the bike.
Carolyn turns the key...lights come on. "Gas is nearly full," she says. "Tanked up at the last station before leaving town, just in case. I'm fairly paranoid about running out of fuel, sort of an occupational hazard for a pilot. Yeah, I've been there a few times. Even got shot down the first time around, when tehy still had some good soviet SAMs. Not a pleasant experience, you know?" She bends down to peer where he's looking. " See anything in there?"
Lleutrim checks and sees the lights come right on and they aren't dimmed. He wiggles a few wires around, checks the battery connections just in case something is loose, "Well, it's not a blown cell, which was my first guess. Battery looks fine, wiring seems solid. If it's getting fuel, air, and spark, there's no reason for it to have failed in mid ride that I know of - these things are pretty simple. Try the ignition again, in case it was a loose connection and you might have got jostled on rough road." He steps back and listens as he watches the bike. He glances up though at what she says, "USAF, contract or commercial?" Yep, even the civies get shot down over there.
Carolyn climbs on and hits the ignition. The bike cranks well, but no sign of starting. She gives up after about 5 seconds. "It usually starts on the first crank...tap the key and it goes. USAF," she says. "I was flying 16CJs. Fortunately I was able to nurse things along for about 20 miles before going down, and managed to eject near a platoon of Marines on patrol. gotta love the marines."
She gets an unexpectedly big warm smile out of him, "Ooorah, Devil Dogs." Then his attention is back on her bike. Lleu frowns and skims the stubble he lets grow over the weekends without bothering to shave until he has to on Monday mornings. "Well, starter wouldn't kill you in mid ride." So he begins to look for the fuel line coming out of the tank and to the engine, feeling it. "Could be a blocked fuel line though, bad plugs, or coil. I can't check anything electrical. You'll need a shop for that." So he straightens back up, "Best lock your forks and take your key. I can give you a lift to a station."
Carolyn laughs at the oorah. "Former Marine," she guesses, then nods at his direction and sets about securing the bike. She pulls her pack off the back as well. "Thanks for the lift...I hope I'm not cutting your ride short? IF you're going on out there's a town out a way that'll have phone service, that'll work too." She hmms at the lowering sun, and opens the pack to dig out a leather jacket which she shrugs on. "Water?" she offers a bottle also pulled from the pack."
Lleutrim fishes his gloves out, "Yes, ma'am. Made it to Captain." Which isn't far at all, but Marines don't do promotions very fast, not like the Army or Air Force. He walks back to his lent Fatboy and starts kitting up. Gloves, goggles, helmet, then keffiyeh. Once he's ready, Lleu puts a leg over and his key in to unlock his forks and straighten the bike up. Soon as he has the kickstand up, he looks back. "I'm good on water, thanks. I don't know the area well enough without being able to use my cell phone to check."
Carolyn puts the water away, and pulls on her helmet. She hmmms, and the pack goes on the rack and gets strapped down. She climbs on, sort of on the pack but mostly on the back edge of the seat and the fender, the pack helping wedge her in a little better as seh wraps her arms around his waist. "Captain huh? Join the club. Though I'm up for major this year. Board meets in October." That gets a shrug. "I just hope they don't try to take the plane away and give me a desk."
She gets a short laugh, "I don't know about the USAF, but Major becomes a staff officer so yeah, you'd fly a desk in any other branch - most likely." Once Carolyn is on board and seems secure, Lleu flips the ignition and starts the Fatboy up. He doesn't bother to tell her to hold on since she's a biker herself. He starts out easy so not to throw up dust and gravel, then turns slow and wide, feeling the difference in how the bike handles with another rider on the back. Soon as he levels out he straightens up and feeds the throttle to get them moving. Not much point in trying to talk over the roar of the engine and the wind as he shifts through the gears and gets heading up towards about 100 MPH again. If that's too fast for her nerves she can tap him to slow down but Carolyn's a pilot. She probably'll think it's slow!
As they cruise, ripping down the highway, the sun is bedding down. The last colors of the sunset look like an artist's wet dream come true, painting the sky in golds, oranges, reds, pinks, and purples with the landscape beginning to stand out nearly black in contrast. In just a few minutes the sunlight dies rapidly and the stars come out. It's early for moonrise, yet. The cool of evening embraces them.
Up ahead the lights of Prospect can be seen in the distance as they come up over a swell in the desert.
Carolyn holds on, enjoying the ride, not worried about the speed since Lleutrim has the bike under firm control. She'd be tapping out at 20 if he wasn't in control of the bike but as it is... she just rests against his back, relaxed. When he finally pulls over she lets go and sits straight. "Thanks for the ride." she pulls out her phone and checks. Signal. "Cool. If this is convenient I'll get off here and get with the tow truck."
He has pulled off at the first gas station on the edge of town. It's a fairly clean one and still open for hours yet and one Lleutrim had tanked up at himself, so he knows it's not too scuzzy. He kills the engine and waits for her to get off, then steps off himself. He tugs down the keffiyeh, "Glad I could help. You want me to stick around until the tow comes? If they aren't going to get to it until morning, I can give you a lift the rest of the way into town and drop you off anywhere you like." With his thumbs lightly tucked into his front jeans pockets, Donnachaidh is willing to wait until she knows one way or the other, or shoos him off.
She gets a short laugh, "I don't know about the USAF, but Major becomes a staff officer so yeah, you'd fly a desk in any other branch - most likely." Once Carolyn is on board and seems secure, Lleu flips the ignition and starts the Fatboy up. He doesn't bother to tell her to hold on since she's a biker herself. He starts out easy so not to throw up dust and gravel, then turns slow and wide, feeling the difference in how the bike handles with another rider on the back. Soon as he levels out he straighens up and feeds the throttle to get them moving. Not much point in trying to talk over the roar of the engine and the wind as he shifts through the gears and gets heading up towards about 100 MPH again. If that's too fast for her nerves she can tap him to slow down but Carolyn's a pilot. She probably'll think it's slow!
As they cruise, ripping down the highway, the sun is bedding down. The last colors of the sunset look like an artist's wet dream come true, painting the sky in golds, oranges, reds, pinks, and purples with the landscape beginning to stand out nearly black in contrast. In just a few minutes the sunlight dies rapidly and the stars come out. It's early for moonrise, yet. The cool of evening embraces them.
Up ahead the lights of Prospect can be seen in the distance as they come up over a swell in the desert.
Carolyn gets off the bike and retrieves her pack. She hmmms. "I've taken enough of your evening...but thanks. Like I said, gotta love the Marines," she grins at him. "If they can't get it tonight I'll just get an Uber home. but..." she pulls her purse out of the pack and digs in it, and comes out with a card for the Sideshow. "come by tomorrow evening. I owe you a meal, at the least."
The card is accepted. "Sideshow, eh? I've been there." Lleu thinks about it a moment, "If nothing else ties me down for dinner, I'll come by. Good night and good luck, Carolyn." The card is tucked away and a moment later Lleu gets back onto his borrowed bike. A few seconds later he's pulling out onto the road and heading back into town himself.
