<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/69/b0/c8/69b0c8a949594407a33795c1b7acefc7.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>George Irons (AKA: The Ghost Rider)<br/><strong>Location:</strong>New York City, Baxter Building<br/><strong>Time:</strong>2:30pm, May 19th 2016<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>X-23, Natasha (m), Spider-Girl, Black Hawk, Sunpyre, Open<br/><br/>-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br/><br/>The Rider watched as the girl his punch sent through the fire once more managed to twist herself, and push her claws forward at the blond in the skin tight spider suit. While the Spider girl was able to grapple X-23, it wasn't without a price as Laura stabbed Gwen in her thighs. Causing the girl to curse as she called out for someone to knock the girl out. Though no sooner than those words left her mouth that she added the proviso of anyone but Him. Gwen's call for help would answered by a Japanese woman that was hovering, and trying to put up an offense, but was constantly foiled by Spider-Girl, and Ghost Rider's actions. The Rider would watch as in a span of a few seconds, the girl was knocked out, and the others were quickly moving in to attend to their injured brethren.<br/><br/>The Hellfire wall would recede back into nothingness, the asphalt molten in a jagged line from the Fire. With the fight concluded, Ghost Rider didn't see a reason to stay around. Though someone calling out to him had him stop, and turn to see the red headed women approach. A low growl could be heard from the Rider, warning Natasha to keep her distance. She would say that they needed to get out of there, that they were not an officially sanctioned Super Hero Team recognized by the government. Though what did the Rider care for Worldly Governments? Most are not run by the will of the people, but by major corporations, and shadowy secret Groups like Hydra, The Illuminati, and Templers. Hell, Even the Vatican influences world politics behind closed doors, and curtains. the Red Head would tell the Rider, and the others to meet up at her apartment, followed by giving them the address. The Rider could only look on in confusion that this woman would do such a thing. Invite a 6' Flaming skeleton to her apartment. Who in their right mind would do such a thing. Though when Natasha spoke to Sunpyre, and Him about not leaving any scorch marks, the Rider's gaze glowered upon the red head for a moment before simply turning away, and bringing up his bony fingers to his lips to let out an ear splitting whistle.<br/><br/>From a dark alley, a bright flash of fire exploded outward as the Rider's Noble Steed (https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-OCkV12xF3oQ/VBHVSm59Z3I/AAAAAAAADpQ/4rfixB6Pcoc/w320-h240/ghost-rider-o.gif) launched itself out onto the street, and came to its master's side. The Engine purring contently as the flames licked off its wheels, and twisted frame. The Rider lazily threw a leg over the bike, and and rolled on the throttle, the bike accelerating smoothly as the Rider left the scene. However, he wasn't going in the direction that Natasha indicated. He went the completely opposite way.<br/><br/>Once the Rider was far enough away, the flames shed, and The Rider became George Irons once more. He pulled behind an abandoned apartment building, and dropped the kick stand. George let out a long slow exhale as he relaxed for a moment. However, his solitude would not be long. Do you not wish to assist? the familiar voice of George's Guide asked. "Why should I? George asked in return, not bothering to look at her. They will need your help. You have the power to do good. The Angel replied softly. George simply scoffed. "Good" is a relative term. Besides, I'm tasked with Keeping Heaven, and Hell from encroaching too much on this world. Not to solve the World's problems." George explained as he leaned against his fuel tank. "Only in a mind that is purposely complicated. However, Good, and Evil are not relative. You live in this world. Its problems are your problems. You know this, and I know you want to help them." The Angel replied. George let out a grunt of frustration "Damn mind reader.". There was a smirk of victory spreading across the Angel's plush lips. "FINE! Damn! you're worse than a fucking singing dancing cricket on mah shoulder!" George growled as he picked up the bike off the jiffy stand, and rolled out of the alleyway. Leaving the Angel to slowly fade from sight.<br/><br/><div class="floatright">(http://cdn2.teen.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/persia-20090308-jake-prince-of-persia.jpg)</div>It took a bit for George to find Natasha's apartment as he was not familiar with the layout of the streets in New York. As he meandered around the Blocks looking for the address, a slew of curses continued to trickle out of his mouth from all the over crowding, and simple overabundance of Assholes in this city. Blessedly, he would find the apartment, and tucked his bike around the side. He didn't bother to lock it as he was sure that she could take care of herself. Climbing several flights of stairs, George would come to a lone door at the very end of a hallway. He raised his hand to knock, figuring everyone else was already here. "Jesus fucking Christ, I can't believe I'm doing this shit." He muttered under his breath as he knocked on the door, and waited for it to be answered.