Try an unpaid parking ticket for fifty years spent at a cryogenic freeze center, Faye thinks, grinning lightly to herself as she pulls up to the edge of the garage, eyes trained to her left side. Even if none of that matters here, there's just enough superstition lingering in the corners of her mind that she keeps her mouth shut on the topic. The past has a habit of turning up when it's the least expected.

Flipping the shield of her helmet up enough to expose her eyes from behind its reflective surface, Faye pouts with an amused arch of her brow. "Every angle is a nice angle for me," she says, scoffing, before snapping the shield back down and taking off, dropped low to the handlebars as she lets out a loud whoop and a laugh.

"Catch me if you can!"