"Come on, 'Kid! It makes your jacket look better!"

"Honestly, it really does make it better."

"Seriously, Mikes, you'll do great. Who's gonna beat you? Fuckin' Vic Fuentes? I doubt it!"

The Kobra Kid looked between his friends. A rather shy twenty three year old he made out to be, but for one he was hardly appreciative of the additions his friends and brother had made to his jacket for his race. Not only was the number three on one sleeve, but 'kobra' was on the other in white letters going down the sleeve. They'd also added zippers to the cuffs for some reason, but he hardly minded those. 

"You have a fucking racing helmet already. I know it's Brendon's bike, but you fixed it up and it's perfect for racing. Trust me, you have nothing to worry about." Ghoul smiled at the blonde, handing him back his helmet. It was recently touched up by Ghoul and Party, bolding the letters and the patterns against the yellow. 

Kobra took the helmet, giving a slight nod as he put the helmet on and gripped the keys tightly in his gloved hand. A race. They'd convinced him to do a race from Zone Six to Zone One seeing as he qualified with his motorcycle. Plus, it was sponsored by some Killjoy Dead Pegasus worker so it also meant free gas for a year. And if you killed Draculoids on the way you got free food that wasn't Power Pup.

So, Kobra didn't really have a choice seeing as he was the only one who could drive a motorcycle well.

"We'll be at the finish, Mikes. See you there." Ghoul climbed into the car with Jet while Party hugged the blonde.

"Don't crash or get yourself ghosted. Please?"

"Will do," Kobra said quietly, watching his brother get into the van with DJ Hot Chimp driving. She was young, but Agent Cherri Cola was showing her the ropes of how to drive well, so that meant something.

The blonde proceeded to go to his motorcycle and give it a quick wipe-down with the bandana he kept in his back pocket (not the one around his neck, mind you) until he could stick on the '16' sticker and the 'WKIL 109' sticker on underneath. Though Brendon had put on an Electrokat and a Cosmic Thrust sticker on some years before, they added to the feel of the motorcycle. If anything, it felt more comfortable knowing it was used but well loved.

"Hey! Red leather!" 

Kobra moved the visor on his helmet up to turn and look at the voice calling to him. "What?!"

It was Pete. Arms Race. Even after three years, Kobra couldn't say he was happy to see the shorter man. "Oh, hey Kobra. Didn't recognize you."

"Uh-huh."

"Just wanted to say, er-"

"Come on, motorbabies! Get to your bikes and let's get this race goin'!" It was Bulletproof Smile calling out to them, grinning widely as she held the odd looking gun in her hand. It wasn't a ray gun, but perhaps a pistol. As Kobra climbed onto his bike, he could hear several Killjoys behind him revving up their motorcycles already. So the blonde just relaxed in between Arms Race and Phoenix Fire, glancing across the woman to look at Chemical Kid and Mechanical Mayhem, brothers Vic and Mike Fuentes.

"Ready?"

"You ready, Andy?" Arms Race said, leaning back on his motorcycle and looking at his bandmate beside him.

"As ever."

"How about you, Mikey?"

"Set..."

"Fuckin' ready."

"Go!"

With a general spur, Kobra had fixed his visor and propelled his bike into motion as he sped after Mayhem and several other Killjoys that had gotten in front of him already. Arms Race and Novocaine were behind him, as far as the blonde knew, but that didn't concern him as of now. The butterflies in his stomach had practically vanished, though slight nervousness still did remain. It was a long race, and it would take up most of the day seeing as they were taking the required road (Route Guano, however) and not shortcuts. 

Though nervousness turned to unquenchable excitement as Kobra realized he wasn't going as fast as possible. His motorcycle once belonged to Brendon, which meant it had a need for unimaginable speed. And that would be what he was convinced would help him win when he'd kick it into a higher gear around the borders of Zone Two.

And the Kobra Kid grinned from under his helmet as he sped on down Route Guano in a high-speed pursuit against the leaders of the race. He definitely qualified as a crash queen, if he was honest with himself, because hardly any time had passed before he was in Zone Five. There wasn't much he could honestly do to catch the leaders without blowing his top speed too early, so he kept a decent sized tail on them- long enough to be able to pass if need be but not long enough to fall behind.

The purring of the motorcycle underneath him was steady, but almost as if it was begging for more speed. Which was rather startling, because he was pushing ninety miles an hour already. He knew the fastest he could hold for the bike was over one hundred, not at the edge of the meter but pretty fucking close (to be accurate, not too much over one hundred and fifty miles an hour). Of course, going that fast he wouldn't be able to shoot anything, but he'd be able to at least get up front then slow down. 

By now he'd caught up with the leaders of the race, Chemical Kid and Mechanical Mayhem keeping together but not too far in front of Twin Skeletons. There was a long silence, not much breaking it except the louder and slightly strained noise that one of the bikes in front of Kobra's was making. He didn't know who's it was, but that wasn't going to be particularly great for when they decided to hit the last three Zones.  If one planned it strategically, they would start picking up around Three and be at full speed by Two (Zone three was the smallest, therefore either the best or worst place for this race). 

Guns were drawn, however, Mechanical Mayhem leaning forward and taking aim to shoot something on the side of the road. Kobra had to carefully balance himself if he was ever going to get his gun out, which he did, but aiming it and firing wasn't something he planned on doing twice. But, against his better judgement he shot down another draculoid blur before returning his gun to it's holster and switching to a slightly higher gear. He wasn't the only one, but he coasted by Twin Skeletons with ease before steadily approaching Mayhem and Chemical Kid.  

Zone Two appeared faster than Kobra would have originally thought. Neither of the siblings in front of him started going faster, but there were people behind starting to catch up. It made him nervous, but his heart just pounded more and adrenaline shot through his veins. There was a wicked grin underneath his helmet as he leaned further forward on the motorcycle, and his fingers revved it once before he switched gears again and the purr got comfortably louder. Like that, he shot out ahead of the brothers and swung into the front.

Everything was practically a blur around him as he shot through the desert, but he could hear another bike behind him. He figured it was Chemical Kid, but wasn't going to push the speed any faster unless he absolutely had to. His jacket being zipped up entirely would probably be an issue regarding heat if the wind wasn't giving him any cooler air.

Zone Two flew by, replaced by Zone One quickly. Kobra turned on a hair, speeding down the road and trying to push the bike to go faster. He could switch it into the last gear, but with hardly anything left to actually race, he felt that would be unnecessary. But, he knew that there was somebody right on his tail and he didn't dare turn around to look. If he didn't know better, he'd be afraid he was about to hit the red line, but with not much left to go in the race and having had a full tank before, he could cross his fingers that he wouldn't run out.

However, upon glancing over and seeing motherfucking Pete Wentz of all people right next to him, Kobra changed his mind about switching gears and propelled himself further forward. The purr wasn't so relaxed anymore, getting close to being strained but not quite yet. He wasn't about to push his speed anymore. Finishing was a daze, and coming down from being in the highest gear took about ten minutes until he was at a complete stop and climbing off his bike. Honestly, he couldn't really see straight, and the lack of speed was honestly dizzying as the rather quick rush of blood to his head brought him to sit on a rock next to his bike.

He unzipped his jacket first, then slipped the helmet off before he just sat and panted for a good long minute. The rushing adrenaline was conflicting with the headache he could feel coming on, and the two contrasts were honestly just turning the headache into a migraine. 

Chemical Kid had approached after another ten minutes, leaving Kobra to conclude he had a raging migraine from that but it was still fucking worth it. "Shit, man, you annihilated your tires! Fuckin' rubberburner..." 

Kobra laughed at that remark, glancing at the tires on his bike to see they were indeed heavily worn down, and he probably wouldn't be able to use the set again. "Yeah, but I was not letting Pete win."

"Congrats, you like won a shit ton of prizes, too. I think there's like two hundred carbons or something from some bet that you're getting too."

"Damn. I was not aware."

The two exchanged a few more brief words as some of the 'joys in the middle of the race began to finish before Chemical Kid wandered off again. His teeth were kinda big, and he needed a new hairstyle (or a haircut), but if Kobra wasn't lying he reminded him of a skinner version of Ghoul. Secretly screamo and everything. But Chemical Kid had problems of his own, such as being hopelessly, madly in love with a BLI worker who was also a guy. Maybe, though, Vic could use some makeup and just do drag.

It was awhile before Kobra had stood up, questioning where the three Killjoys he basically lived with were. He put on his sunglasses, helping with the brightness of the world around him to at least dim it. This had the potential to be a really long day. Kobra began to wander around, picking up water and drinking it as he wandered around the makeshift camp that was really just for a couple select Killjoys that were hanging out to watch the race and trade in carbons for real food. 

A pure white motorcycle finishing was questionable already, but shrugged off until the rider had been brought back to attention. A couple years, sure, but when someone does that sort of thing to your friend it doesn't usually leave you. Kobra, being an idiot, decided to go investigate. He followed the man until he was behind an outcropping and the man was bending over a car and talking to someone inside.

He remained quiet as he backed away. Kobra had to tell someone, right? Maybe Party, Jet, and Ghoul just hadn't gotten here yet. Or maybe they were on the other side of the hill. Deciding it would take too long to walk, he went back to his bike and started it up after making a promise to be back soon, and if he wasn't to talk to Doctor Death Defying because he was there and technically responsible for Kobra if the blonde (black hair had been short lived, Ghoul got pissed next time he tried to use the dye) ever wanted to put blame on someone.

The tires were pretty worn, but it was a quick trip and that wouldn't hurt. Right? Kobra hoped as he kept the bike in a low gear and spurred back onto the road. However, when Kellin Quinn stepped in front of him and shot his front tire, Kobra went flying. 

- - - - - -

moar drama >:) 

i smell kellic do you

so is this some more kobra plot? i think it is. maybe i'm just setting up for rikey, maybe mikey is gonna have a near death experience, or maybe he's gonna forget some shit. something, i dunno.

<3 you guys, votes and comments are appreciated xx