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First Floor Garage, Monday afternoon

After the whole surprise dinosaur invasion over the weekend, Johnny decided that he needed to do something relaxing. However, relaxing for Blaze was probably different that it was for other people. In his case, he'd opened up the doors to the garage, laid down a tarp on the floor, and started tinkering with his stunt bike. Half of it was to keep up with regular maintenance, half of it was just to enjoy taking things apart and putting them back together.

He'd even brought down the portable radio from his room, and flicked the dial to the first station that came up. 70s rock music drifted out the open doors, and he found himself humming along to songs he recognized.

[OOC: Open.]

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Charlie was on her way in to Groovy Tunes to help clean up, but she slowed down when she saw Johnny working on his bike. "Hey. Made it through the invasion, hunh?"

Johnny sat up on the tarp at the noise, and smiled when he saw that it was someone he recognized.

"Hey Charlie," he said, carefully putting down the wrench and gears he'd been working with. "I did. Surprised the heck outta me to see real dinosaurs here, but I managed to get through it. Even fought off one 'a them," he said proudly.

"You did? Cool," Charlie said, feeling like her own encounter didn't exactly count as 'fighting off'. "I ran into one at Groovy Tunes, but I booked out of there and let it trash the place," she admitted sheepishly.

Johnny pulled himself into a crosslegged position to be more comfortable while chatting.

"You sound like a smarter person than me for doin' that. I ran into one, an' just wailed on it with a chain I grabbed from here 'til it left me alone. If that didn't would, I woulda been dino food for sure," he said.

"Whoa. What kind was it?" Charlie asked, impressed. "Mine was a saber-tooth. I mostly ducked, grabbed the kittens, and ran, and started a fire so it would back off. I never could have swung just a bike chain at one."

He frowned, trying to recall the details. "L'il spitty thing, with a frill to it. I dunno what it's real name is; I ain't all that good with more than th'basics."

Blaze whistled in appreciation at Charlie's story. "You met a saber-tooth tiger? I think I'd run at the sighta that too."

"We weren't properly introduced, but I'd know him again if I saw him?" Charlie said, shaking her head, but feeling better about having fled the scene. "I don't know much about dinosaurs either, but yours sounds scary enough, jeez. The tiger took out the counter and turned it into matchsticks. I was lucky I only got this from the fallout," she pointed to the stitches on her forehead, "And a few bruises."

"Jeez," he said, shocked that a saber-toothed tiger (or was it just cat?) could have enough power to do that. "Did they clean up the counter? 'S there anymore destruction in town?"

"It kind of looked like the park could use a fix, but I think I heard it started at the construction site? And they're working on it," Charlie said, rubbing her arm. "I don't know about the rest of the businesses in town, though. I'm on my way to help clean up Groovy Tunes."

"Good for you," he said, meaning it. Coming from a lifestyle with a lot of packing and unpacking of everything, he appreciated people who helped clean up. " 'M amazed they didn't do a whole lot more damage to the island."

"Me too. I think it's all the people who drove them off and kept them from making it worse," Charlie said. "And those guys at the clinic must have been awfully busy. This really is a great place, people-wise, I'm finding out."

The very unfamiliar music was of course a beacon to an inquisitive soul who hadn't dared stray past the dorms since Friday night, and the sight of an at least slightly familiar face was a relief.

"Hello, Johnny," said Anne from the doorway of the garage. "What are you doing?"

"Hey Anne," he said with a friendly wave back. Noticing the grease on his hand, he tried to discretely rub it off on the side of the tarp.

"Workin' on my bike, t'keep it in good shape." He patted the side of the machine. "You wanna see it?"

"Oh, yes please," replied Anne, fighting off an instinctive sniff of disdain at his greasy hands. Eagerly, she took several steps into the garage. "Of course, I've never seen a bicycle like this before."

Johnny shoved his tool box and equipment off to the side, trying to clear a clean spot on the cloth for her.

"I thought you might not've. It's a motorbike, so it's gotta whole lot more horsepower than a bicycle'd ever have." He ran his hand over the orange on white flames painted on the engine cover. "It's a Harley XR-750, which means it's nice an' light, an' good for stuntin'."

Anne shook her head, still completely unsure what any of that meant, but appreciative of the gesture. Perhaps he wasn't as completely unmannered as she'd originally thought he was. She, unfortunately, was still sadly ignorant of some things.

"Horsepower? Is it like a chariot, then? Do you hitch it to a horse? And oh, have you ever done anything like the chariot race in Ben-Hur?"

"Kinda?" he said, trying to figure out how to explain a motorcycle to someone from an earlier time. " 'S ... 's just like a bike, but with a motor built in the front, so it can go a whole lot faster. Horsepower's a way of measurin' how fast the motor's can go, as in how many horses it'd take to get up that fast."

He'd sean Ben-Hur on TV so he nodded. "Somethin' like that. I can do laps, an' drive in real close to other people, but I don't whip other people while ridin'. You need to be careful on a bike so's hurt to hurt anybody else."

"So there aren't any actual horses involved." Anne looked almost disappointed at that, but fascinated all the same. "But you could do all those things, if you really wanted to? I'm glad you don't want to do all of them, like the whipping, since that'd be just mean, but it's awfully romantic to think you could, even though you wouldn't."

Anne had strange ideas of romance sometimes.

"I guess so?" Johnny said, not really seeing the same amount of romance in whipping people at high speeds. "I mean, I got good enough control to keep a bike steady enough t'do other things with my hands, but I think you'd have to be kinda a jerk to want to whip people."

He smiled, and his eyes took on a bit of a far away look. " 'Though if you ever get the chance to just ride and feel the wind in your hair, and the scenery rushin' by, that's romantic."

"It really goes that fast?" asked Anne, intrigued, and relieved that he didn't seem the type to want to whip people. "Yes, I can see how that would be very romantic. The fastest thing I've ever been on was the train, and the scenery does rush by, but it's very hard to feel the wind in your hair from inside the car," she concluded with a laugh.

"Yeah, 's not quite the same in a train," he said with a bit of a laugh. "It's pretty hard to open the window enough to feel the breeze, an' the other people can be kinda distractin'."

He motioned to the motorcycle. " 'f you're up for it, I'll take you ridin' sometime on this."

"If it isn't too much trouble, I'd love to!" exclaimed Anne, her eyes lighting up. "That is to say . . . it is safe, isn't it?"

Johnny shrugged. "So long's you wear a helmet, and I don't pull too many tricks, it should be safe enough."

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First Floor Garage, Monday afternoon

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