Becky smiles and stands up, crushing her cigarette under her boot, heading out of the school, moving towards a lockup garage, within which is a motorcycle. Custom built, looking like a skeleton of a winged horse on wheels almost, she chuckles and turns to Frannie. "You don't need a helmet, do you?" She hops on, smiling. On the right side of the gas tank 'Strife' is written, like a name.