[Knuckle Bine]

“You should work on that reaction time of yours,” Cho said as she watched the beanie fall over the side of the overpass with a scowl. “You could have gotten yourself smashed by one of those cars, it wouldn't have been pleasant.” Knuckle knew all to well what could have happened but what was a guy supposed to do? He was a beginner and his skills were not even up to par with dodging a slowed down car. It was a fluke as well, couple with uncanny luck why he was able to kick himself away from the path of that car. None of that really matter to Knuckle for his style of riding was the slow, steady, but firm way wherein if likened to the wind, it would certainly be breeze. Quite the contrary to what Knuckle is on the pitch for in that four-cornered battlefield, he blazed through the opponents defenses and struck with his iron leg a ball scorching it past obstacles and inevitably finding it ripping a new hole asunder in the net.

"I know, sorry bout that, but what am I supposed to do? I just started. Let me see, I think it's been about a month since I first started riding these things." Knuckle with his mouth pointed to the shoes with wheels, undoubtedly referring to the air trecks. The custom built shoes were still holding up despite the month long riding as its wheels were still in fairly good shape. A vague indication that it was ridden during that span of time, not emphasizing speed or power, rather it was simple cruising thus relegating in the simple joy of a slow and steady pace.

Although, his laces were a looking rather old which was probably caused by the strenuous albeit noobie kicking of Knuckle. It was unconsciously done and was not by whim that he was kicking like a buffoon during the month-long riding. With no showing or display of skill, but only a mere desire to move himself from starting point to end point, was all that could discerned from traces left by his run on his air trecks. But true enough, he still got by with what little he had learned by himself. He has learned a fair amount through self practice but self practice, could only get him to rise to a certain level within a certain time.

Rising fast amongst the ranks in terms of skill and ability could either be gotten through sheer talent, which Knuckle had to a certain extent with regard to Air Trecks, or a master who could show him the necessary shortcuts in leveling up in ability. It was a blur as to how Knuckle chanced upon this female individual. But that did not matter, for what mattered was that said individual came and is now offering what Knuckle has been seeking. “I guess I should apologize for all the fuss, it was kind of fun though, yeah?” A question which was rhetorical in the sense that the answer was already evident at the onset of its delivery.

"It certainly was, now that it is over. Just like all things that come to pass, once you get a good head on your shoulder once again, one can laugh at the worst of cases that happen to an individual." It was fairly true, back in his days at the university, hell was the norm when professors terrorize students with mountains of readings and verbatim recitation. Everyone who thinks that studying is a breeze and that it should be enjoyed is sorely mistaken. But now that law school is over, Knuckle could not help himself to laugh at all the things he suffered back there. In every damn storm, there is certainly a fucking silver lining so to speak.

“Tsukiko Chouko at your service, but most just call me Cho.”

"Knuckle Bine."

A passive human with the innate ability to draw in everyone's attentions through intellectual discourse or dashing footballer looks, is Knuckle Bine. As is it usually is, and this night seems to be no exception for having come from work, he was wearing his formal attire, a blazer's buttoned down vest in dark colors fitting itself for an ordinary work day. Within it, is a white long-sleeve dress shirt with a tie. The way Knuckle wears his pants tonight doesn't forget to showcase the lack of senseless belittling nor antagonistic ways of a respectful man. A simple black silver beaded belt bedazzled by his own flair to hold his usual dress pants up to his waist. To complete his obscure look,he wears his custom built air trecks. What a way to exhude who you are in this day and age.

“So why did you want to meet me?”

It was a simple question indeed begetting a simple answer in return. "Every Storm Rider places an emphasis on a certain aspect of their "run", which determines their "type." Over time, the Rider's Run develops into a characteristic style and repertoire of tricks, which is termed as their "Road," or so they say. I have asked around regarding the matter and have picked up several things. But a professor of mine said, half-knowledge or a little learning is a dangerous thing. That being the case, I need someone who is quite adept in riding to give me a better grasp of things."

Knuckle thereafter stepped back and began riding in his slow, steady pace, seemingly showing what sort of road he had in mind. Each step was heavy but plentiful wherein each stride was powerful albeit slow. As Knuckle came to a stop he begged a question, "do you have an idea what sort of road is suitable to this sort of riding style? Your experience might entail someone who has a similar sort of road or similar riding style. I'd really like to know what road I'm taking, for purposes of progress of course. And of course, with that in mind, I could do extensive training for this sort of riding."

[meanlilkitty]

Knuckle, what an odd sort of name. Was it a name given to him by his parents or one of his own choosing? Not that anything was wrong with the name, it was just uncommon. What did his name say about him? Knuckle, like knuckle sandwich? Cho brought her hand up and made a fist. She watched as the white showed through the skin. It was a brutish sort of name, one belaying strength, though his attire was more on the suave side. Knuckle was all slicked up in what she deemed fancy dress. His apparel and build were contradicting, since physically he looked like he would carry a name like Knuckle. The guy was huge.

Cho tilted her head to the side as she listened, “your road?” Indeed, roads and runs were a form of expression amongst riders. Though some shared roads, styles of riding, each rider had their own way of riding that chosen path. “You can't just pick a road off a list, you ride and stumble across it along the way. Sometimes we don't always choose our own paths, much like life, sometimes they choose us.” Cho had never “picked” a road, had never given the idea any thought until it was thrust upon her. “You use so much force when you ride,” she was commenting on the heavy strides his movements consisted of. “There's really only one rider I've seen like that, Steel? Yeah, Vincent Steel. He has some kind of weighted Ats. You might want to seek him out. ”

At that point Cho turned and started off in the other direction, hoping up onto the railing and then leaping onto a light post. The moment her skates touched the post she was flying through the air. As she flew through the air her body twisted, her rotation centered at her hips. When she landed on the other side of Knuckle she was facing him. Instead of using her knees as her center of gravity, all movement was based at the hips giving more maneuverability. “We all have our own paths to carve through this world. Riding is our way of doing that, whether we reach for the stars or bulldoze paths through opposing forces for those seeking to fly.”

“Some carve their tracks on others, some themselves,” she held both hands up to indicated herself. Roads such as her own Sonia Road left their marks upon the rider internally. “There are riders who are gifted with speed, some with strength, others with cunning. I can give you some pointers on how to improve your basic skills as a rider, but I don't think I can really help you discover your road. If you were interested in the Sonia Road, perhaps, but I don't really foresee that,” she gave a wink. “You don't need to know which path your taking, just know that you're taking it. Sometimes you just have to spread your wings and let the current take you where it will.” Hopefully she made some kind of sense, though she doubted it.

[Knuckle Bine]

The lady with the long hair made more sense than Knuckle had hoped for. Whether by sheer raw intellect or a kindred understanding of the world that Knuckle got what she was saying, it mattered not for the important thing was that, he had gotten the point. Though still a noobie with a little inkling in said AT world, the wise words bestowed upon him were enough. Vincent Steel, the name was precious, but for the time being, would be stored and put aside in the back of the intrepid young storm rider. Theoretical lesson over, it's high time for some physical and practical application of the venerable teachings of a master.

Knuckle began to move, comparatively slower and more sluggish to look at but nonetheless made the distance. Like a hatchling out of his eggshell, Knuckle approaches his trick with slow to moderate speed. As he approaches the nearby rail, he leaps in to grind the rail. He spots where he wants to land, then jumps and locks in his soul foot, at the same time bring his non-souling foot and lock it in-front of souling foot at 90 degrees with the inside of the Air Treck facing out. Knuckle makes sure to keep his balance all the while tries to move most of his body weight onto his souling foot.

A fairly simple trick Knuckle thought, though it would have looked far more impressive had it not been performed after such a graceful trick done by Cho. It is best to skate straight at the object you are about to grind unless you are going to attempt to spin onto it. It also helps if you jump and lock straight into the grind rather than stepping into it. This usually looks very bad and is not the correct way to complete the Acid Grind. Adding style to the Acid Grind is quite easy, just try to get as low as possible and experiment with where your feet feel most comfortable.

As these mental notes occur in than short amount of time between lift off and grind landing, a spark erupts. His heavy weight proving to cause enough friction to occur with his trick. It was fun to say the least since Knuckle had done a trick -and a successful one at that. He cleared the railing in one go. Usually, it took a couple of tries, and several bails for him to get a trick down. But this time, he managed to do it without flailing or worst bailing at said trick. It must be the adrenaline. The fact that Cho with her unusual method of teaching, proved to be a great way of bringing out the best in a student.

But Knuckle wouldn't want to affirm such method of teaching -that was enough excitement or danger for the night. Now that the debacle was over, he'd rather ride than run, escape or prevent a mob from kicking his arse all the way back to law school. "Basics are fun," Knuckle quickly interposed as he landed from the railing. "I'd be most obliged if you will teach me more, but if we could dispense with the Beiber mania for tonight, it would be most appreciated." Knuckle took a deep breathe, seemingly containing his excitement over what may transpire in the next few moments. "So, how are we going about this basic training, wallrides, jumping, dashing?" Like a kid, Knuckle could not help but ramble on with his curiosity. It was a futile attempt on his part to contain that amount of excitement slowly ebbing from him though.