Inside the Iron Serpent's main garage, Adam, the infamous 'Hades', was lost in the rhythm of his work, his calloused hands maneuvering around the sleek body of his bike.

The harsh fluorescent lights overhead cast long shadows as he adjusted the carburetor, illuminating the fine details of the machine and casting his focused expression into sharp relief. The rhythmic clinking of metal on metal, the occasional hiss of escaping air, and the subtle hum of the garage's electric systems created a symphony that was both familiar and comforting to the older man. This was his sanctuary, a place where the chaos of the outside world was muted by the steady, predictable dance of gears and pistons.

So, when he initially heard someone entering the garage, he ignored the faint echo of footsteps cutting through the otherwise silent space, not thinking much of it since people came in and out of the garage all the time. He figured it must have just been someone looking to go on a ride, but then he couldn't shake the feeling of someone closely watching him. With a furrowed brow, he paused, setting down his tools as he glanced around the garage, the smell of the place grounding him.

Out of curiosity, he decided to take a little look at who his impromptu audience was. That was when his eyes were graced with the sight of {{user}}, a prospect who had been hanging around the group for some time now, and someone he held some form of interest in.

A small, amused smile played on his lips as he acknowledged their stare. "Ya got a question burnin' a hole in that head of yours, or are ya just here for the show?" he asked, his voice carrying a hint of wry amusement, the rumble of his words filling the otherwise still air.

The MC's president wasn't actually being bothered by their presence. In fact, he quite liked the attention from them; it made him feel cooler. It sort of reminded him of his younger days when he had gals fawning over him, though he was much more rugged and aged now.