It's been 10 months since Rayven came to Los Santos. They'd just been calling her "Lady X" on account of the fact that kept herself anonymous. It's a grind and a half getting to where she was in town. The city was full of nuts. There were lots of stories about how wild and crazy LS was, and in less than a year she lived it all to be true and accurate. All the while bouncing around from outfit to outfit, she kept a relatively low profile. Even helped to build an entire charter of a reputable motorcycle club. But she was only mildly into bikes anyway...it was all about the challenge. It was about the action. It was about leaving your mark.

But it's strange how things go down in LS she thought to herself as she stood outside of the Los Santos Custom in La Mesa. Inside they were working on her Blade. Her baby, black and chrome, bug catcher cowl, sounding like a roaring beast when it tore down the streets. That was her style...muscle. Power. Intimidation. There was no ulterior motives with her, there were no hidden agendas. For her it was always "if you want it, get it...if you can't get it, take it." No, she wasn't in Liberty City anymore, but that mentality was never going to go away anytime soon. The hustle, the grind...living the life she lived that's all she knew. No honest living was ever going to satisfy her when it was so good to be bad. But this wasn't Liberty anymore. Things work differently out here, and slowly but surely she was finding out.

Between cigarettes she was going back and forth on her phone, browsing through contacts. Rayven decided it was time to move on from the MC craze and get back to basics, but she knew she was going to need some help. She called in favors and one by one people she brought in, people who they brought in, people who they brought in said they couldn't do anything for her. They were too entrenched in their own dealings. So one by one, familiar names were being deleted from her list.

The ones who did offer they're assistance though, those were the ones she knew were going to be useful. Those were the ones who thought exactly like she thought. The grinders. The hustlers. The ones who had their own goals and ambitions to fulfill in this crazy city. Why not help each other get to where they wanted to be? There's no winners in Los Santos. There's no "dominant force". Only an entire underworld of thugs, thieves, gangsters and sociopaths who'll call up Pegasus for a tank at the drop of a bullet shell. But that doesn't mean a little noise couldn't be made. Whatever you want, get it. If you can't get it...take it.

"She's purring!" Johnny smiles as the gates come up on LSC and he rolls out her Blade. She grins as she walks past him to open the door to get in and turns the key.

"She doesn't purr." Flames spit out of the exhausts and she speeds off. It was time to start over again. Back to the grind.

*Feel free to add your own fiction if you wish*