Hi, if you were wondering who I am, I am a guy who loves cruiser bikes. I own a 2013 Harley Davidson Breakout. I have white hair with blue stripes in it. My eyes are blue as well, and I have a peachy white skin color. If you were looking for a description of me, there it is. if you weren't, TOO DAMN BAD! My name is Striker, Striker Flare the fifth to be exact. Yes I'm the fifth in my family to have that name. No I'm not some fancy, rich, stuck up, snob. Sorry about that, I hate it when people assume that I'm all of those things just because I have "the fifth" in my name. Oh and for all you sportbike fans out there, I also have a CBR600RR. I may trade it in for a CBR1000RR though. As of recently, I live in a town called Canterlot , and I'll be going to Canterlot high.
I've taken my bike around the town at least four times to make sure I don't get lost. I found a nice place called Sugarcube corner, it's a great place to get some sweats. Unfortunately, my stomach can't stand sugar first thing in the morning. I ate chocolate for breakfast once and I was in pain all day. Oh, and for those who are wondering, I'm currently sleeping. My alarm clock should go off right about-
"Hello ladies and gentlemen, welcome to station 92 heavy metal. Today's first song is going to be The Night by Disturbed." the radio announcer chimed.
"Ugh, man, it's morning already. I guess I have to go to schoo - oh wait, it's Sunday. Oh well, I guess I'm going out to get something to eat. Stupid shipping company hasn't delivered my refrigerator yet. I'll just let my alarm play while I'm getting ready." Striker rolled out of bed and went to his hamper of clean clothes. He pulled out a pair of black jeans, a grey T-shirt with nothing on it, and a pair of socks. He got his helmet and riding suit and put them on over top his clothes. The helmet was a full head helmet, after all he didn't want to get his face fucked up in a crash. He walked into his garage and looked at the rack of keys. When he got to the bike keys he paused. "I want to ride the Breakout. But the CBR was a great bike too, and it doesn't get out much. But the Breakout is so comfortable." he thought.
"Ah fuck it, I'll take the CBR today." Striker said, snatching the keys from the rack. Striker got on the bike and turned the engine on. "Let's ride hot stuff, don't worry baby girl. I'll be back." He said to the Breakout, he named both his bikes. The Breakout is called baby girl, or baby for short. The sports bike he named hot stuff. Striker pulled out of the garage and closed the door. He put his visor down and pulled off into the street.
"First stop, the donut shop near Sugarcube corner. Isn't that right hot stuff?" He said, he revved the engine twice to make it seem like the bike responded. He chuckled at his own funny. He pressed a button on the side of his helmet, and started jamming out to some Heavy Metal. If it wasn't blatantly obvious by now, he was a fan of Metal. He pulled up in front of the donut shop, he dismounted the bike and took his helmet off. He walked through the front doors to find no one else in line for a change. He walked up to the counter.
"Hi, can I have a glazed donut with a black coffee. Thank you." He said. He waited a few moments while the man behind the counter got everything ready.
"Here you go sir, that will be $2.00." The cashier said. Striker nodded, paid the man in cash and grabbed his order.
"Nice bike by the way." The cashier said.
"Thank you, it's a CBR600RR." Striker replied. "You have a nice day." He said while walking out the door. Striker sat at an outside table near his bike to eat. He was eating his donut when he felt something moving in his pocket. He turned to find a man trying to take his wallet. Striker stood up.
"Yo what the fuck man! The fuck are you trying to take my wallet for!?" Striker said while shoving the man. The man had brown eyes, but that's all striker could make out. The man was wearing a hoodie and a bandana over part of his face. The man threw striker to the ground. While striker was trying to get up off his stomach, the man pulled a pen knife. He stabbed striker in the lower leg and striker collapsed his weight off of the leg. The unknown man took off, leaving the knife in strikers leg. Striker sat down on the concrete and looked at the knife handle. He firmly grasped it.
"This is going to hurt like hell. Here we go, one, two, three! Ow fuck!" Striker said, he looked at the blade. He was lucky it wasn't serrated, otherwise it would have hurt a lot more. Striker held his hand over the bloody wound. Suddenly a Rainbow haired girl ran across the street.
"Oh my god! Are you okay!?" She asked.
"No. who are you?" Striker asked.
"My names Rainbow dash, what's yours?" She said while applying pressure to the wound.
"Striker, the names Striker. My full name is Striker Flare the fifth, and no I'm not a rich, stuck up, snob." He said.
"Shit man, you're bleeding badly. Here I'll get you to the hospital." Rainbow dash said while putting herself under one of his arms for support.
"How?" Striker asked between grunts of pain.
"That's your bike isn't it?" She said.
"Yeah." Striker said. Rainbow dash put him on the back of the bike and she sat in the front. "Do you even know how to drive a bike?" Striker said.
"I know enough! Now hold on!" Rainbow said. Striker wrapped his arms around her waist and held on tight. They flew down the street, they must have been breaking 100 miles per hour down the road. In a matter of 15-20 minutes they arrived at the hospital. Rainbow walked him in through the entrance labeled emergency. They put striker on a stretcher and rushed him down the hall. Rainbow dash stayed with him the whole time. They stopped her at the door to the room they rushed him into. They didn't want her to see them stitching him up. She agreed to wait outside until it was done.
After fifteen minutes the doctors had finished. Lucky for Striker, he always rolled up the pant legs of his jeans when he wore his bikers suit. Not only didn't it make stitching him up easy, but it meant that the knife didn't put a hole in his new jeans. Striker sat there, sitting in the hospital bed for a few moments. He had been told by the doctor that he would be staying there for a few days to prevent the stitches from popping open. Striker rolled his pant legs down so he could be comfortable. The jeans ended by briefly overlapping the black leather boots he wore. Suddenly the girl from earlier walked in.
"Sup?" She said.
"Not much, thanks for not crashing the bike. That would have made a bad day even worse for the both of us and the bike. Not to mention we weren't wearing helmets."
"Oh, yeah, um, I went back to find your helmet and it wasn't there. Sorry about that." Rainbow dash said.
"It's alright. I have three more helmets at home." Striker said. Rainbow dash raised an eyebrow.
"Why do you have that many helmets?" She asked.
"It's so if I fuck up one helmet in an accident, I have others I can use." Striker said. The two talked until visiting hours were over, rainbow dash left the room and waved good bye. Shortly after she left, Striker was deep in thought. One thing roled through his head as he sat there. "man, she's a cute one ain't she."
