Markus sat at his usual table, in his usual watering hole. Him and his brother came here all the time, thinking of themselves like a 2 man bike gang.<br/><br/>He took a long gulp of his beer before slamming it back down on the table. Not many people frequented thier bar, especially this time of night. Just the occasional stranded traveler passing through. He hated every one of them, they all came in with some kind of attitude, thinking they were better then him.<br/><br/>He reached back with his strong powerful arms, stretching and letting his biker jacket spread open revealing a torn and tattered t-shirt underneath. His large muscles clenched as he reached for the ceiling, his long black hair falling back off of his shoulders. His hair was wild and unkept, but not dirty.<br/><br/>As he returned to his normal posture, he noticed a figure appoaching the bar thru the window. It was too dark and rainy to make much out yet so he reached down and reached under his blue jeans to scratch his calf, which was quite hairy. A lightning bolt shook the bar and highlighted the tattoos he had running up and down his arm.<br/><br/>He leaned back as the girl started yelling at the bartender, normal roadside stranded bitch.<br/><br/>He turned to his brother and slapped him on the arm.<br/><br/>"Check this bitch out, dude."