What will save us?

The Mad Gear and Missile Kid

        "What about him?" Cyanide asked, looking at the shorter man towards the back. He pulled of his mask, oily black hair spilling out  and hanging in his face. He brushed the stray strands back with his fingers, looking around the Hyper-Thrust before making eye contact with her and slowly grinning. She blushed, thankful for the dim stringed lights, and he winked at her. She broke the contact and looked at Blast, who had watched the awkward encounter.

        "Oh no sister. He's bad news. He's probably had 20 girlfriends this month-"

        "Blast, it's only the thirteenth." she interupted him.

        "I know! Thats my point; he goes through girls as quick as cigerattes. He's not a bad guy, don't get me wrong. He just has some serious commitment issues and loves to flirt. He's a little old for you, anyways."

        "Exactly how old do you think I am?" Cyanide huffed, her cheeks burning once again. "And how old is he?"

        Cyanide watched the so-called flirt walk towards her through the swarming crowd of bodies, his group of friends in pursuit. Now seemed like the perfect time to go listen to music.

        "Actually, I'm just going to go take your advice and go make friends, 'kay?" Cyanide said, quickly pushing herself off the couch and heading towards the front of the dancefloor closest to the stage.

        "Make good choices!" Blast yelled after her, earning a few laughs from those who surrounded him. Blushing furiously, she continued on. People around her stumbled, bumped into her, and brushed her arm as she walked, trying to avoid the groping hands of those who had had too much to dirnk.

        Someone grabbed her elbow tightly, and she grit her teeth together, a string of profanities running through her head as she turned to face her captor.

        "Woah there killer! I just wanted to say hi!" Fun Ghoul chuckled, causing her to blush yet again. He let go of her arm and started to nod his head to the beat, lifting his arms and casually dancing to the music.

        She bit her lip and followed his example, slightly swaying to the beat.

        "So, I've only met you once, and you never did tell me your name. I'm Fun Ghoul, but all my friends just call me Ghoul." he smirked, lifting his shoulders and doing a weird dance she doubted anyone considered cool.

        "Blue Cyanide," she laughed, "Just Cyanides's okay."

        "So 'Just Cyanide', whats your 4-1-1?" He asked, shaking his hips at her.

        "Uhm, I have no idea what your asking me. Are you asking for my phone number?"

        "No, no no!" he laughed at her. "Sorry, your a new killjoy. I forget. 4-1-1 means your info, as in your story. Why you hear, what's your purpose, etcetera etcetera. Got a place to stay?" he asked, looking into her eyes.

        "Uhm, yeah. Yes I have a place to stay, I meant. I stay here." she rushed out, looking anywhere but at Ghoul.

        "Oh, the Hyper-Thrust? Shiny! I though you were just a tumbleweed."

        "Nah, this is my home, my humble abode." Cyanide smiled, looking around the room as the band continued on.

        "You wanna go towards the back? I can barely hear myself think, much less hear you talk."

        "Uh sure, yeah that's cool I guess." Cyanide said, looking around the room for Blast. She could almost feel his disapproving stare at her retreating form. Ghoul grabbed her hand and she let him lead her towards the bar. Diamond caught her gaze and raised her eyebrows up and down with a grin,and Adrenaline bit his tongue and gave her two thumbs up. Cyanides eyes went wide as she jerked a hand across her throat, trying to explain without words what was really happening, but they both had already turned away, caught up in the music once again.