As you walk out the Door, the way into this strange place, you're not likely to look behind you. If you had, you'd see a Winnebago about 1/4 of a mile behind the Door. Old and slightly rusted, it has a worn down look to it, as if whoever lives there gave up trying to keep it tidy a long while back.
If you decide to go closer you soon see the old motorbike leaned up against the back of the motorhome. Unlike the old truck, this has been kept almost spotless, polished and ready to ride. As if there was anywhere to ride to here. A few of the strange rock crab robots scuttle around under the wheels of the motor home, and a few makeshift bits of equipment are scattered around the area.
As you draw closer, a tall, skinny man steps out. Long dark hair lays in a almost a mane on his shoulders, and he's clothed in a beatn up old leather trench coat, t-shirt and jeans. All may have been black before fading to a dark grey. A jumble of different tools hang from a belt half hidden by the coat. Heavy biking boots finish the look.
He leans on the side of the vehicle, folds his arms and cocks his head, eyebrows raised in a silent question as to why your here.
((ooc stuffs: this is a semi-serious rp thread. try to roleplay fairly well, but don't feel compelled to write huge posts or actually be serious. Please try to spell as well.))
