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Posted: Tue Sep 11, 2018 5:15 pm
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Posted: Tue Sep 11, 2018 7:01 pm
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Mercer Entura
Surrounded by top of the line tech, as well as a few precious antiques, lowbloods and highbloods alike milled throughout the showroom. A small crowd gathered around the buffet table laughing and chatting, while many more concerned themselves with the objects of interest: the bikes.
There must have been fifty different bikes scattered around the showroom, each one cleaned and buffed until it shone. Walking past a 3rd Gen Zombie Punk Harley Dayvid, Mercer could see his reflection in one tailpipe almost as well as he could looking in a mirror. The rest of the bike was just as beautiful, sporting grooved handlebars, a titanium frame, and a custom-stitched leather seat—musclebeast hide no doubt. No where in sight was there a price tag. None of the bikes had them.
Mercer moved on, breezing past the next few bikes before coming to a stop. His mouth twisted at the bike in front of him. It looked unfamiliar, but... His eyes wandered over to a familiar logo, artfully hidden on the dashboard. His heart rushed. Hand on his hips, he folded over and then let out a whistle. “Wow! A triple inline thoroughbred.” He leaned a little lower, careful not to touch the frame. “With... what are those, TT side ports? Nice.”
The Concept X. A rare model and certainly not one he had expected to see tonight. That alone made the journey out worth it. He wondered how much Tincan Mechanics had paid to put that on display. Certainly no one lower than a blueblood could afford that kind of heavy-weight champion, and even then...
Standing up straight, Mercer rocked back on his heels.
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