<strong>Name:</strong>George Irons (AKA: The Ghost Rider)<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Phoenix Arizona (In Transit)<br/><strong>Time:</strong>a couple days ago:<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Spider-Girl<br/><br/>---------------------------------------------------------------------<br/><br/>A cursed creature stood upon a towering office building in the capitol of Arizona, Phoenix. Hundreds of Feet below. Cops and SWAT Teams had the building surrounded. A grand chase that led through the city had climaxed upon this rooftop, and soon the hunt will be over. Across from him stood what appeared to be a Normal Officer of the Law. Heavily decorated and respected by his peers. He was the Force's "Golden boy". However, he hid an evil secret. "I must admit, you live up to your reputation for tracking me this far, Rider!" The Cop's laugh was otherworldly. The rider staring him down. he was strong, too strong for a mere human. "You think I'll tell you where the prize is hidden? Fool, I would never tell you where it is even if I Knew!"<br/><br/>(http://www.espaciomarvelita.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/Ghost_Rider+Concept_Art_by_Jerad_S_Marantz_02a.jpg)<br/><br/>The Rider stood silent. In his hand, a long length of chain that glowed like molten metal metal in his hand. Like a flash of lightening, the Chain lashed out with a flick of the Rider's wrist, and cracked along the Imposter's chest. burning a stripe into the flesh, and knocking him to the ground. The Demon possessed Human looked up at the flaming nightmare, fear in his eyes. The Rider slowly approached, stalking his prey. His chain skittering across the ground making splashes of fire as the links bounced across the concrete. He would stand over the imposter, and pressed the heel of his boot into the wound. Waves of pain shot through out the vessel's body. "Where is the Demon?" The rider's voice was low, menacing. The flames flickered and began to grow hotter and brighter around his white Skull. "S-She is gone. Always one step ahead of you" The vessel laughed, knowing it had fulfilled it's purpose. To delay him. To give Her time.<br/><br/>The Rider knelt down and removed the glove from it's left hand. A fiery skeletal hand was revealed. Flames licking off of the fingers lazily. Placing his finger tips at various spots on the Vessel's face. The Rider began to burn the infection from within. "You kill me and the Host dies!" The Creature threatened, trying to stave off it's fate. "Don't take me for a fool. I know that the Soul is beyond Salvation. Now burn!" The Vessel let out a primal pain filled roar. At the end of the Rider's Hearing, the Dull thumps of a Helicopter rotor could be heard right as the the Police chopper crested the side of the building. Shining it's flood light upon the scene. the area was awash in a bright light. "This is the Phoenix Police-WHAT IN THE HELL IS THAT?!"<br/><br/>It was the usual reaction for him. A being simply know as The Ghost Rider. However, this did not deter him from his task. The Body quickly burst into flames as the screams died away. Leaving a pile of ash in the shape of a man. "<strong>Shoot It!</strong>" The Helicopter spun in place as two officer raised M4s. The Rider reach down and ripped up a large section of roofing to use as a shield. The 5.56mm rounds of the M4 merely bounced off the large plate. he waited for a break in the firing before tossing the plate at the chopper. The pilot yanking on his stick hard to avoid the impact. Drawing his fiery chain. The Rider lassoed the skid of the aircraft. pulling it in, the pilot pushing his throttles to max. The instruments screaming at the strain. "You're Pissing me off." The police looked at the creature before them. Clad in leather and fire it was visage straight from their nightmares. "S-Sorry" The pilot squeaked in terror.<br/><br/>The Rider Jerked on the chain, Sending the Helicopter spinning off as the pilot struggled to correct the aircraft. Whistling, The Rider summoned his mount. From the Corner of the roof, a flaming motorcycle appeared. It's long raked out appearance reminiscent of the Choppers of the mid-seventies. Rolling on wheels of fire. it came along side it's Master. It's motor revving, seeming eager for the ride. The Rider threw his leg over the Hell bike with ease as he rolled on the throttle. The engine screamed like the Howling of demons before he dropped the clutch. Flame and Smoke poured out of the rear of the cycle as the front rose skyward. Leaping off the Tall building. The Bike scorched a flaming arc in the sky as it came to land on the roof of a shorter neighboring building. Following this Pattern, The rider eventually made it to street level well out of sight of Law enforcement. He would then shed his demonic form and returned to the form of George Irons astride his beat up Harley Shovel. He rode out of the city unnoticed.<br/><br/>(http://t3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRFCHTGpLaGS5u5AH81deSAUyzEwDsNZa_whrSHqmr9PZXu3qLv)<br/><br/>Riding for hours, the sun slowly began to raise. George would pull off onto the side of the road, coming to rest upon the crest of a rise overlooking the desert. The soft blue glow of the dawn beginning to illuminate the world. He pulled out a bent cigarette from a cumpled package and lit it up. Taking a few puffs before he blew out a cloud of smoke into the cold morning. Standing at 5'11" tall. George had a slightly muscular body. His deep blue eyes scanned the Vast wastes of the desert before him. He ran a hand through his unruly mop of dark brown hair. "What the hell do you want?" George didn't see her descend, but knew she was there behind him. leaning the bike on the kickstand, he spun around in the saddle. Behind him stood a Angel. Her large feathery wings stretched out to her sides. She bore a scowl of disapproval for George's actions. "Ah Hell. Don't give me that look. That cop's soul had long since been be taken to Hell." "There may have been a way to save him" Her voice was quiet and very gentle, almost like a whisper. George gave her a stern look. It was easy for her to say such things, but she was never at the battles. She didn't have to watch the vessels burn to ash. However, When she looks at him with those eyes, it always tore him up inside. He turned away, puffing away on the cigarette. The Angel approached and took the foul vice from his lips. holding it in her hand, she gently blew on it and it became simply mist. "That was my last one you know." George growled. "Haven't you decided to quit? I hear they are quite detrimental to your health." She asked in her same quiet manner. George couldn't help but laugh at the display of concern. Unsure whether it was real or not. "I think I have bigger concerns than smoking for my health."<br/><br/>(http://www.howmuchdotheyweigh.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/Jake-Gyllenhaal.jpg)<br/><br/>George looked at her again and quickly turned his head. The sun rose enough for him to see her clearly. "Aww, Jeez. Can't you cover yourself up? It's distracting" The angel was always confused by George's modesty. Clothes were meaningless in heaven and as such all were nude. She had always appeared to him like this ever since he was a small boy, but since reaching puberty. George had become uncomfortable around her without some covering. Her frame was petite, with a body that men would gladly go to war for and have. She stood about a foot shorter than Him. Her breasts firm and plump. She would have worn a large "C" Cup. Her long blond hair reaching to the top of her plump bottom. She wrapped her large white wings around her front and saw George visibly relax some.<br/><br/>"where is your destination from here?" She quietly asked. "I Don't know. Where ever the road takes me, I guess." She faded from view without a good bye. "Geez, she is cold." Taking a deep breath, George closed his eyes. trying to feel the world around him. Firing up his motorcycle. He rode off the raise and back onto the road. Heading into the raising sun.<br/><br/>(http://www.shovelhead-bobbers.com/shovelhead_1969/images-hd0087/1969_Harley_FLH_Shovelhead_Bobber_468x376.jpg)<br/><br/><strong>Location: New York<br/>Time: 2 am</strong><br/><br/>The darkness of the night was banished by the glow of a single headlight. the dull thrum of a Milwaukee Mill faded in the distance as George continued to head East. His senses directing him as he followed the dark ribbon of asphalt. The yellow and white lines passing quickly under his boot heels. Rolling on the throttle, the bike responding smoothly and instantly. His Long brown hair whipping behind him in the Breeze. Mild Temperatures of the Southwest quickly began to dip into the much cooler Temperatures of the northeast. George didn't pay this any mind. The large flaps of the collar on his jacket fluttered in the wind as he leaned his bike into the curve. Rolling on the throttle to power though the turn.<br/><br/>It was approaching 2 in the morning when the Single beam of George's headlamp fell upon the Sign welcoming him to New York city. He rumbled over the George Washington bridge as he was suddenly surrounded by the towering skyscrapers of New York City. George grimaced as a sense of claustrophobia tickled at the back of his mind. It felt like the buildings were closing  in on him. The lights blocking the stars from shining didn't help matters either. George Rolled his neck with a loud cracking noise. Snorting at the constant road construction that seemed to dominate the streets of New York. He found himself longing for the dark roads of the West. With its blankets of stars overhead. However, what he was tracking led him here. An evil was here that had the Innocent crying out for Vengeance.<br/><br/>George Rolled up to a stoplight, and suddenly he felt the rider stirring. Looking to his left he saw a Darkened alley. He pulled this bike down the alley and left it at the mouth. He didn't bother locking her up. She had a way of dealing with fools stupid enough to try and steal her. The last person to take her for a joy ride, took the EMTs and Hour to scrape his brains off the wall. Quietly, George walked down the dark alley. The only light coming from either the ambient glow of the street or a singular Flickering light. It didn't take him long to start hearing voices. "What should we do with him?"..."Lets string him up."..."P-Please, I'll do what ever you want. Please don't hurt me."<br/><br/>George lazily walked upon the scene. still concealed in the Shadows as he saw three Hispanic men crowding a smaller black kid. They chuckled evilly as they continued to talk about what they were going to do to him. The Kid trembling in fear and panic. So focused on their new toy, they didn't take notice of the stranger who was watching them. The biggest one was in the back was the easiest to take out. "Get the Rope, Jose. Jose? Dammit, you fucking Retard! The rope!" One of the men hissed. Yet they received no answer in return. Turning to see what was Jose doing. What they saw had their eyes grow wide in fright. The alley was awash in bright orange and yellow as the Flames lazily burned around the gleaming white Skull. "Stick it man! Stick it" One of the two surviving gang bangers shrieked as his friend pulled a Knife and tried to stab the Rider. Their came a lot smack as the Rider caught the Attacker's wrist. The Attacker started to whine and whimper as the flaming skeletal fingers began to burn and char his skin. Soon, cracks, and fissures appeared on the Thug's flesh as the Rider was burning him from the inside out. His Screams quickly choked off by the fact that his lungs were burnt to ash. Soon, The rest of his body would follow, but not before he felt an agony unlike any other. A warm up for what is about to greet him down<em>Below</em>.<br/><br/>The Rider snatched up the last one, and slammed him so hard against the brick wall, that the masonry cracked. As He looked at him in primal fear. The Rider let out a blood cuddling roar as the flames around its head grew in intensity and heat. Starting to melt nearby metal. The Man cringed and squirmed as they felt the full intensity of the Heat. Finally losing control of their bowels before the Rider literally torn him in two. The pieces burning up into ash before they hit the ground. The Rider then turned, and approached the boy. His knees have given out with the appearance of the Demon. He kept rambling apologies for things he thought he had done. The Rider's head tilted to the side as if it was considering what to do with this person. After a moment, he let out a low growl as he motioned for the Boy to flee. The boy looked in the direction that the Rider indicated and saw a large dumpster impeding his path. He quivered with fear as he turned back towards the Rider. The Rider seemed to read his mind as he laid a bony hand on the dumpster and with what looked like no effort at all sent the several hundred pound Dumpster sailing through the air. The loud crash was the signal the boy needed. He scrambled to his feet and dashed out of alley, leaving the Rider alone in the darkness.<br/><br/><br/><strong>Time:</strong>2:30 in the afternoon.<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Street side.<br/><br/>The day passed quickly for George, The hustle and bustle of New York being far more fast paced than it was out west. He could feel his senses on edge. So many here deserved to meet the Rider, but George kept him in check. He sat in the shade of a tree on his bike as he munched on a couple of dollar hot dogs, and knew he was going to regret it later. His eyes constantly shifting across the sea of people that move like herds of sheep, or cattle through their daily lives. He was in the shade of some tower that had a huge "4" at the top, and the name on the placard said "Baxter Building". It was shaping to be a boring day.<br/><br/>Or at lease that is what he thought. Suddenly people began screaming, and running from within the building. Pressing against the doors until they gave as they fled into the streets. Already the distant wails of Police sirens could be heard as cars screeched, and smashed into each other, all trying to avoid the panicked mob that was fleeing from some unknown terror inside the Building. The Air was becoming thick with the blood that was split, causing the Rider to claw, and scream at the back of George's mind. The Blood of the Innocent has been split, and The Rider demanded retribution.<br/><br/>From the Building a young woman in clothes that might as well been painted on her body emerged covered head to two in blood. From her hands two long claws glinted in the sunshine. "Well, there goes my lunch." George grumbled as he pulled himself off his bike's saddle, and grabbed at the chain that was wrapped around the Sissy bar. Already he could tell something was off about this fight, but those questions would have to be answered later. Now was time to coral this girl. As George closed upon the entrance, his skin began to glow, and then burn away as the Rider was released.<br/><br/><em>"Hey, since when do Wolverines come with two X chromosomes? Wait, maybe I can communicate with her in her native tongue . . uh . . Snickt? Bub? Gretzky?"</em><br/><br/>Though it would appear that the Rider wasn't the only attention this girl's antics would attract. The Rider saw another approaching. A female, if what he saw by her costume told him anything, came to land rather gracefully upon the roof of a police car. The Newcomer would quickly fire something at the Crazed Mutant as the Rider stepped forth from the shadows. His flaming form not doing anyone any favors in trying to calm down the panic stricken populace.<br/><br/>The first thing The Rider wanted to do was prevent the woman's escape. So balling up his skeletal Fist, The Rider drove it down into the asphalt just in front of him. A small quake erupted, and spread out before a bright glowing line shot out in front of him. Slithering across the ground between X-23, and the People that were fleeing from her. Then a 6' high wall of Hellfire rose up between the Mutant, and the fleeing people. Hopefully that'll keep the girls focus on someone that can take whatever she can dish out.