Biker Mice From Mars - Breaking The Habit

Houston We Have A Problem

She stared at the burning crater, her breathing heavy and irregular.
She wasn't flying anymore.
Somehow, she got back on the ground, where she was sitting on her knees with an aching head and shaking hands.
For some reason, she couldn't stop staring at the place where she had been, only minutes ago.
Maybe even seconds ago, she had no idea.
Time was such a strange thing.
It had the tendency to play games every once in a while.

The explosion had alerted other people, which wasn't really surprising.
It wasn't every day that a meteor crashed into the park, here in Chicago, Illinois and the first sirens, though in the distance, broke the almost suffocating silence.
There was already a crowd forming at a safe distance near the smoking crater, some of them taking pictures with their cameras, others just staring at the sight in front of them in utter silence, shock written upon their faces.
Just like her.
Slowly, she rose to her feet, her body sore.
After one last glance at ground zero, she turned around and walked away, still entirely dazed.

Without even thinking about it, she walked into 'her' park.
Of course, it wasn't really her park, she just called it that because it was almost always deserted for a reason she didn't care about.
Or maybe she should call it her home away from home, for she came here a lot.
Whenever she needed to escape her prison of loneliness, to be exact.
Whenever the walls came too close, all ready to crush her.
Which happened very often these days, although it saddened her to admit that.
With her gaze lowered, she gradually sat down on 'her' bench and it was then that her body started to relax a bit as the shock of what happened became less dominant.
Less... overwhelming.

Still, it was a lot to take in, and so she just sat there, in total silence.
Or at least, that would be the case if it weren't that she suddenly heard the characteristic sound of motorcycles approaching.
And although she wasn't entitled to, for it was a public park, it was anger that chased away the last remnants of shock.
Why in the world would someone come to this park?
Why now, when she needed to be alone more than ever?
Goddammit.

She looked up with a jerk, her blue eyes fuming, only to see three bikers skidding to a halt close to her.
A little bit too close, if someone would ask her.
Narrowing her eyes, she took a deep breath in order to keep her cool as she looked at them.
Although she couldn't see their faces due to the closed visors of their helmets, she just knew they were looking back at her.
She could feel it in every fiber of her body.
Speaking of their helmets — they had a very peculiar shape, to say the least.
Quite frankly, she hadn't seen helmets like these before, but then again, she wasn't really into the biker world.
Not anymore.

Her eyes lowered, only to see that the bikers were in good shape, although it somehow irritated her that she even noticed that quite futile fact.
But it was soon forgotten again when she noticed that they were wearing very... odd clothes, which was, if anything, an understatement, to be honest.
One in white, one in grey, and one in brown.
Her gaze wandered over the one with the white shirt first, who was by far the smallest of the three.
He had some kind of belts crossed over his chest, which were actually called bandoliers, as she recalled.
His black jeans looked like they had seen better days, and so did his black biker boots.
There was a purple bandana tied around his broad neck, and his hands were partially covered in black, fingerless gloves.

Her blue eyes darted over to the one in grey, who was enormously large.
Even though he was sitting on his bike, he still made quite a threatening impression, but strangely enough, she didn't feel the slightest hint of fear.
Not even when her gaze halted on his arm, which looked like it was made of some kind of metal.
Weird.
Very weird indeed.
Furthermore, he wore a chest plate made from a material that was unknown to her and the same jeans as his white-shirted companion.
His boots were different, though.
Black with purple.
There was a purple, fingerless glove around his left hand, which was his 'normal' hand, although normal wasn't the word that occurred to her while looking at him.
Quite the opposite, actually.
To finish the whole badass biker look, there was a leather bracelet decorated with studs around his left wrist.