| Aug 24, 2015 5:37:06 GMT -5 |
Post by Hex on Aug 24, 2015 5:37:06 GMT -5
[attr="class","ttop"] I'm gonna fight 'em off A SEVEN NATION ARMY COULDNT HOLD ME BACK They're gonna rip it off Taking their time right behind my back And I'm talkin' to myself at night Because I can't forget Back and forth through my mind Behind a cigarette [attr="class","oone"] [attr="class","tbbody"] The afternoon sun beamed over the few lazy white clouds that speckled the bright blue sky over Beach City. Cicada cries echoed throughout the streets, while steam seemed to permeate from the asphalt, all indicators of a very hot summer. A young girl, fair skinned, with short black hair, had decided to take a nap atop a green, boxed shape moped. She had propped her legs on top of the front fairing, leaning herself back on the seat with arms crossed behind her head, face shielded from the sun with her helmet. “Jam, delivery!” A female voice shrilled from the side door of the fifties styled dinner, Tasty Treats. Jam yawned loudly, stretching her limbs while she balanced atop her moped. Blinking furiously as she adjusted her sight to the harsh sun’s rays, her brows furrowed. The lazy teen sat up straight and smacked her lips. Without the need of opening her eyes, she placed the helmet on her head and groggily started the moped. She drove up to the door, where her mother placed the stacks of take-away boxes in the case that was drilled on the back of the two-wheeler. “These go to Mrs. Herbace”, her mother stated before peeking her head back in the kitchen to make sure she did not forget anything else. Jam rolled her eyes, “third time this week”. The older woman shook her head in disapproval, “Jam Benedict, I can hear you doing that face from here young lady! They’ve been busy with the Bash. You know that”. Before her mother could continue Jam turned on the throttle, “Yeah, yeah”, the motor revved before she let go of the break, and drove off. Had she stayed she knew her mother would have lectured her about how Mrs. Herbace was a harder worker than Jam would ever be, and that she had not done a single productive thing that month. It seemed like spending hours in the arcade did not count as a useful way to spend time. Of course, her mother would never understand the joy of having her own name plastered on the top score of most of the arcade machines in Funland. The satisfaction of beating those that challenged her. Winning a little bit of extra dough just by doing what she loved. Yeah, it all gave Jam a thrill little else did. The bets made everything a tad more exciting. The drive to Mrs. Herbace’s small home and establishment was uneventful; it was after she made the delivery that she started hearing music coming from the boardwalk. She was aware it might have been coming from the Bash, but her curiosity was peaked because it sounded more like practice and not a live performance yet. Jam was always interested in the ‘behind the scenes’ look of things. She enjoyed learning what made things tick. No, it was more like she enjoyed having a piece of knowledge others might not. Being aware of secrets. It made her feel like she had an edge, which in turn not only strengthened her tough girl exterior, but gave her an advantage if it ever came to betting. Knowledge was power after all. That was enough to get her speeding toward the sound. She was too busy locking on the melody to realize the van that zoomed and zigzagged passed her. The van had lightly bumped the side of her moped, but because of the speed she was going, it was enough to lose control. With a hard turn she veered off the road, toward the beach, to be able to avoid worse damage. The young girl skidded to a stop, causing the sand to lift in the air and fall lightly around her. She stood frozen in place unsure of what just had transpired. @tag MADE BY VEL OF GS + WW |
[googlefont=PT Sans Narrow]
