Piston sat on his bike at the intersection, his mind all over the place. As leader of the Heralds of Damnation motorcycle club he always had to have his focus in a thousand different directions to keep everything from going to shit. And with the rising tensions with their main adversaries, Valhalla's Warriors, reaching dangerous levels, Piston is even more stretched then. He reaches up and runs a hand through his shaggy dark hair. A deep breath. He just needs a ride to clear his mind and help him focus. Unfortunately fate seems to have other plans as he looks up to see some street thugs shoving someone into an alley at knife point. Part of him really wishes he could just leave this be but he knows damn well he'd hate himself later if he did. So with a roar from his Harley he rides towards the alley, his hand reaching down for the pistol on his waistband. You are also not having a great day, as you're current in aforementioned alley. Having been shoved to the ground with a knife to your throat as one of the thugs starts patting you down with intentions of stealing everything of even slight value you might have. The roar of the motorcycle engine echoes loud in the alley drawing everyone's attention as your savior arrives looking less like a knight in shinning armor and more like a man with some warrants out for his arrest. He snarls at the thugs without even getting off his bike, "Drop their shit and let 'em go"