[ToxicShadow]

Furiously, Iokaste yanked his motorcycle out of the bed of a truck of some kind passerby, having declined the man's offer of helping moving the blasted thing, just like he had when getting it into the truck. The metallic contraption was covered in various designs, similar to the man, being covered in tattoos. It was just like him.

"You good now?" A voice called out to him, causing him to return to the side of the truck. "Yeah, thanks man," he said with a nod of his head to the man in the driver's seat. "Yeah. You, too." Without any further exchange, Iokaste was alone, left to fend for himself.

"I hope this place is as good as he says," he commented, staring at the mechanic's garage that he had been taken to. Not all that many blocks away, he'd stopped to help the man in the truck, whose battery had gone and died. After applying a good charge himself, he'd returned to his motorcycle and shocked the damn thing, screwing with it's computer. It refused to turn over; just what he got for deciding to take the day off of work - hey, he didn't have any appointments - and drive. He just drove, not even familiar with the neighborhood that he had ended up in. Seeing the sights was fun, and Iokaste was almost always seeking excitement and adventure. Driving off to the middle of nowhere wasn't strange in his case.

"Hey, could I get some help out here, please?" He said, having entered the mechanic's place, running a hand through his purple tipped white hair. "My bike has gone to shit and needs some patching up. Damn thing got shocked down the road."

[MillietheWarrior]

(Human Form)

The blaring rock music that filled the hangar (which was large enough to accommodate some of the bigger ships and other such things she and her boss worked on) dampened considerably as Kidada strolled over and cranked the button on the volume down. She’d spent the entire morning reconstructing a motor for an older model Camaro. After she was done with it, the thing was going to purr like a tiger. She grinned ferociously, using the back of her arm to wipe a smudge of oil from her cheek. The coveralls she wore over her clothes and the heavy, steel toed boots she’d donned that morning were smudged and stained with grease and oil, looking a little worse for the wear, but their owner seemed neither to notice or to mind. She wasn’t your average, everyday mechanic, if the knife like tail, the sail on her head, the claws, fangs and little floating orbs hovering just above her shoulders were any indication. Her boss, however, wasn’t exactly the most normal person in the world, so Kidada’s appearance didn’t exactly bother her. Robin, the owner, was out of the shop that day, off doing only God knew what.

Kidada didn’t rightly care, as long as she got paid, and she got to work on her beloved machines. As she strolled out of her work area, pulling a greasy rag from her pocket to wipe her hands on, she heard a voice calling form outside the hangar. She smiled wickedly, her fangs flashing and her green eyes glowing. Oh good. Another customer. The look on her face might’ve sent anyone who’d seen it running, but she schooled it into a relatively normal expression as she stepped out of the front door. “Yeah, yeah, quit yer bellyachin’!” she shouted back, scratching her ear unconcernedly. “I hear ya.” When she stepped out into the sunshine, she raised her hand to shield her eyes, catching sight of the man with the strange hair and a…a…Kidada’s eyes sparkled as she beheld the motorcycle, and she immediately darted to his side. “Oh man, look at that!” she cooed, running her hands over the exhaust and gazing happily at the engine.

“What a machine! And…and what the hell did you do to it?!” Kidada and Robin’s customers got used to the woman’s harsh attitude when it concerned their machines really quickly. This man probably wouldn’t quite know how to take all this. “What the hell do you mean it got shocked? How could you treat such a beautiful work of art in such an ugly manner!” She practically wrested the handlebars from him, and with a grunt, she rolled the bike towards the hangar and up the ramp into the garage. Once she’d managed that, she kicked the kickstand down, and whirled to point an accusing finger at Iokaste, her tail lashing angrily behind her. “YOU! Tell me what you did, right now!”

[ToxicShadow]

The first shock came when Iokaste saw that the mechanic was a woman, which was soon followed by the shock of her... interesting appearance, finally followed up by her shocking behavior. The motorcycle was his and she was accusing him? That was more important than the two previous realizations. Even so, he looked at her with wide eyes for only a moment before shaking his head, chuckling. "My, my, aren't you into your work." Iokaste was weird enough himself to take her words with a grain of salt, rather than be insulted by them. Besides, he needed her to fix what had gone wrong, which wasn't likely to happen if he went and offended her.

"It's a prototype," the man began to explain, walking up the ramp without an air of concern, at least not for her. "This happened to it." He raised one of his hands up and waves of almost neon green electricity danced between his fingers. It was an amazing sight to see for most, but no big deal for him anymore, and he suspected that the woman might not have been all that impressed with it either. Just as it had appeared, with a shake of his hand, the currents of electricity was gone. "I created an electrical current. I've been working on modifying that motorcycle to run and charge off of myself. You know, 'go green," and all. Apparently, though, it still needs some work. Rather than absorbing the electricity like it should have, I just ended up shocking the damn thing down the road. It'd been fine up until that point." What he had done to modify it was pretty impressive, especially for someone that wasn't all that experienced in motor vehicles, though it certainly wasn't hist first modification to run off of his produced electricity. He had modified all of the tools in his shop to be powered by himself, and none of them had showed any flaws. And he knew basic mechanics for his beloved choice of transportation, it obviously just... wasn't enough. He wasn't a professional mechanic, by any means. Would he have been here otherwise?

[MillietheWarrior]

Kidada shot the man a glare over her shoulder, but then quickly reminded herself that it wouldn’t do to actually chase customers off. So instead of scowling, she forced a wan smile onto her face, sharpened fangs gritting together as she paused to give the bike another once over. Damn amateurs, she thought to herself. Always trying to make something new or fix their own damn machines. Don’t they know that this kind of stuff should be handled by a professional? She blew out a loud, deep breath, bangs ruffling with the motion. “Obviously not,” she muttered under her breath, stuffing her hands into her pockets to pull out her gloves. She almost didn’t catch the jolts of electricity that sparked off his hair, but she had to do a double take when she finally noticed. That was…weird. Granted, not as weird as her, but still different. She stopped herself from openly staring; she knew how much it sucked when people did that with her.

“Do you know anything about motorcycles?” Kidada finally asked, raising one slender eyebrow and baring a fanged leer his way. “Because it looks to me like all you did was mess with a beautiful machine.” Turning away from him, she kneeled down beside the motorcycle, peering into the innards of it’s engine. “I don’t even know…how did you modify this? It doesn’t look normal.” Growling under her breath in a rather feral way, Kidada rose to her booted feet and marched over to one of her workbenches, pulling a small machine with electrical cords attached to it from beneath a pile of tools and a half eaten, three day old doughnut.  Returning to the bike, she reached in and hooked the ends of the cord onto an outlet on the engine, and another onto the computer (After a few moment of trying to find a suitable place to hook it).

She pressed a few buttons on the device, and watched as a needle jumped sporadically and made a small beeping noise. “You fired the entire engine and your computer. It’ll need a new…well, a new both. I can’t get you a new computer, but I can fix your engine.” She reached over and unhooked the machine. “It’ll cost ya, Sparky. Won’t be cheap. What were you thinking, modifying a bike like this?” She walked back over and set the little machine down, leaning back against the workbench and crossed her arms over her chest. She flashed him a mocking, fanged smile, her eyes narrowing slightly. “So what are you, some kind of human engine or something?”