Motor City Mayhem

"Are you ready, young man?"

Mythal had been staring at the ground for a bit, drifting off into his own fantasy land while he waited in the hallway. Now, slowly, his gaze lifted upwards to meet the stern face staring down at him. This was a man that belonged in the military; perfectly cut hair, bone structures that were firm and pointed, eyes that judged everyone beforehand and a scowl that probably never left his mouth. He held himself with pride, his chest thrust out and the clipboard tucked under his armpit at the perfect angle. He was actually standing at attention like this was an inspection of military quarters.

But it wasn't; it was a driving test. “Sure," Mythal answered, shrugging and standing up.

The man snorted and pulled the flipboard up and in front of him, actually taking a moment to lick the magical point of his lacrima pen. "Sloppy, mundane attitude," he commented on the God Slayer's single word answer, scribbling the notes onto the top. Apparently the test had started.

How had this come to be? Well, Mythal had helped Shen retrieve the engine that was stolen by the White Hand and returned it to the Clockwork Archer guild. The engineers had been so thankful for their efforts and results that they had offered -- no, insisted -- tat they take two of their newest inventions; a pair of magical bikes that ran off lacrima or personal power. Mythal had never been much of a vehicle person; his adoptive father had owned a car but it had been out of commission since before he had been taken in. But 'no' was an answer that the engineers absolutely refused to hear so... it looked like they were getting lacrima-cycles. But as he was commenting about learning how to drive on it when he got back, the guild representatives had asked what he meant about learning how. When he explained that he'd never properly learned how to operate a vehicle, they were aghast. Apparently one needed some kind of laminated license thing to prove you were capable of driving without causing carnage.

Mythal didn't have one, obviously. So they told him they would ship his bike to his house in Oshibana and then he was directed where to go to get some instruction and testing. The teachers there were nice enough; they showed him around the basics of operating any magical vehicle and then focused specifically on how a lacrima-cycle worked. It was fairly easy -- press a button here, attach a siphon here if you needed, press on the gas. He took his time inspecting each and every inch of the vehicles as they were taught to him. More complex mechanisms and such required far too much energy and focus and he couldn't spare either, having no interest. But all that education and they hadn't prepared him, in the least bit, for this kind of instructor. As the man finished his note and turned, leading him towards the instructional grounds, Mythal sighed and followed after.

Several minutes later, Mythal came to a slow and steady halt on the testing lacrima-cycle, pulling into the parking spot right in front of the instructor. He pulled the helmet from his head and placed it on his lap as he looked at the grumpy looking man. He was finishing up one last note on his clipboard and as he raised his gaze to meet the God Slayer's, there was a new awakened sharpness. He looked over the man carefully, raising a single brow as he silently and yet somehow still loudly judged him. Then he made a quick movement with the pen. "Passable," he said evenly, pulling the paper from the clipboard and holding it out. As Mythal reached for it, he pulled it back slightly. "But just barely."

Hey, just barely still counted. He snatched the paper from the man's hand and gave him a nod, his only means of thanking him. The instructor snorted, rolled his eyes and walked away. Mythal simply shrugged; it didn't even really matter now. He had the paperwork that officially stated he passed. Now all he had to do was go in, pass it to the clerk and get himself a new, shiny license.

Motor City	Fairy Tail
710/500