#best honda motorcycles

[crazytime9]

😅

[celeb-stalkerr]

10 Amazing Used Motorcycles Under $5000 | 10 Amazing Used Motorcycles You Can Buy For Less Than $5,000

10 Amazing Used Motorcycles You Can Buy For Less Than $5,000 10 Amazing Used Motorcycles Under $5000: If you are looking for a fun and affordable way to enjoy the thrill of riding a motorcycle, you don’t have to spend a fortune on a brand new bike. There are plenty of used motorcycles that offer great performance, reliability, and style for a fraction of the cost. Whether you are into sport…

[insanethrottlebikernews]

THE 5 Best Motorcycles For Beginners In 2023

THE 5 Best Motorcycles For Beginners In 2023

00:00 5 Best Motorcycles For Beginners In 2023 00:19 CL 500 01:16 Kawasaki Ninja 400 02:15 2023 XL750 02:58 ROYAL ENFIELD Himalayan 03:33 2023 BMW G 310 GS 05:27 My generation was all about the Sportster starting out 07:07 The younger generation likes these two styles of motorcycles 08:38 They are looking at engine power and dependability THE 5 Best Motorcycles For Beginners…

[rianmobili]

Top 10 Two Stroke Motorcycles Ever Built

[ijustwant2ride]

🏍️ Best of 2023 WEIRD MOTORCYCLES

Best of 2023 WEIRD MOTORCYCLES was not an easy task this year.  There were not a lot that, thought out the year, that jumped out and said "I'M WEIRD"!

[leathercollectionus]

Jorge Lorenzo Black Motorbike Suit Jerez Test 2018

Specially designed awesome leather black motorbike suit of Jorge Lorenzo, which he wore in the Jerez test 2018 when he comes a first time with the official Honda team.

Jorge Lorenzo Black Motorbike Suit Jerez Test 2018

[autonexaworld]

Autonexa: Revolutionizing the Future of Automotive Excellence

In a rapidly evolving world where technology reigns supreme, the automotive industry is no exception to transformation. Among the pioneers of innovation and excellence stands Autonexa, a name that is steadily becoming synonymous with cutting-edge automotive technology. As we delve into this blog, we'll explore the remarkable journey of Autonexa and how it's poised to shape the future of the automotive world.

A Glimpse into Autonexa's Origins

Autonexa is more than just a company; it's a visionary force that's redefining the automotive landscape. Conceived by a group of automotive enthusiasts, engineers, and technocrats, Autonexa emerged with a clear mission: to challenge traditional norms and usher in a new era of automotive brilliance.

The Autonexa Ecosystem

Autonexa's impact extends beyond merely manufacturing vehicles. It has meticulously crafted an entire ecosystem that encompasses various facets of the automotive realm:

1. Electric Vehicles (EVs): Autonexa's commitment to a sustainable future is evident in its impressive lineup of electric vehicles. Powered by state-of-the-art battery technology, these EVs represent both environmental stewardship and engineering prowess.

2. Autonomous Driving: Autonexa's venture into autonomous driving technology is nothing short of revolutionary. Equipped with cutting-edge sensors, AI algorithms, and robust safety measures, their self-driving vehicles promise to make transportation safer and more convenient.

3. Connectivity: Autonexa understands that connectivity is the lifeline of modern vehicles. Their vehicles boast advanced infotainment systems, ensuring that drivers stay connected and informed even while on the move.

4. Mobility Services: Autonexa recognizes that owning a vehicle is only one part of the mobility equation. Thus, they offer an array of mobility services designed to cater to diverse consumer needs, from ride-sharing to subscription-based models.

5. Sustainable Manufacturing: Autonexa's dedication to sustainability doesn't stop at their products; it extends to their manufacturing processes. By employing eco-friendly materials and practices, they are reducing their environmental footprint while setting an industry benchmark.

Autonexa's Industry Impact

As an automotive content writer, I've had the privilege of witnessing Autonexa's influence firsthand. Their unwavering commitment to excellence and innovation has set a new standard for the industry. Here are a few ways in which Autonexa has reshaped the automotive landscape:

1. Technological Advancements: Autonexa's relentless pursuit of cutting-edge technology has compelled other manufacturers to invest heavily in research and development. Consequently, we've witnessed a surge in advanced features and safer vehicles across the industry.

2. Sustainability Norms: Autonexa's sustainability initiatives have laid the foundation for eco-friendly manufacturing and design across the industry. Other automakers are now under pressure to adopt greener practices.

3. Customer-Centric Approach: Autonexa's emphasis on connectivity and mobility services has highlighted the importance of a consumer-centric approach. This has led to significant improvements in customer experiences throughout the automotive sector.

4. Safety Revolution: Autonexa's dedication to safety in autonomous vehicles has spurred research into enhancing safety features in self-driving cars. This has translated into more reliable and secure autonomous systems.

The Road Ahead

As an automotive enthusiast and content writer, I can confidently state that Autonexa is steering the course of the automotive industry towards an exciting future. Their unwavering commitment to innovation, sustainability, and safety has not only transformed the industry but also set the bar for excellence.

In the years to come, Autonexa is poised to continue pushing the boundaries of what's possible in the automotive world. Whether it's in electric vehicles, autonomous technology, connectivity, or sustainable manufacturing, Autonexa will undoubtedly be at the forefront, charting a course toward a more thrilling, sustainable, and connected automotive future. Stay tuned for more updates on Autonexa's remarkable journey and its contributions to the automotive industry.

[yoditopascal]

Like A Prayer (Part 3)

summary: best friends with wade you’re always being dragged into something even when he’s not trying to, what are you to do when you find the fate of your timeline in the hands of yourself, your chaotic merc and an angry wolverine who’s hellbent on drinking himself to death?

content warnings: romance, some angst, a little fluff, character deaths, canon-typical violence, smut, lots of cussing, mutual pining, found family, drug and alcohol use, reader insert but with no use of y/n cuz I hate that shit, deadpool being deadpool, mentions of poor mental health (depression anxiety and ptsd mostly), scent marking, the honda odyssey scene needs a warning all on its own MINORS DNI

a/n: slightly shorter but hopefully worth it! Comments and criticisms are welcome!

tag list: sorry if you weren’t tagged I tried tagging everyone that asked but some usernames didn’t work! @allmyn1ghts @blooket-scares-me @amararosesblog @talanyra @spideybv28

Previous Chapter//Next Chapter

Are You That Somebody?

The two of you stepped through portal after portal in search of the perfect Logan who was willing to help you save your timeline. The first one was a little too short for Wade’s liking, the next one too 80’s he had said, the one after that was too busy fighting the Hulk, the one after that too old, and the one after him…you couldn’t really think of anything to say about the one called Patch except that you found him the most attractive with his eyepatch out of all of them, unfortunately though he seemed to hate Wade the most.

Wade stopped as a portal closed behind you both, as he approached a different Wolverine from behind, this one was alone in a garage and was working on his motorcycle with his back turned to you smoking a cigar.

“Now we’re talking.” He said rubbing his hands together like he was warming up. Every Wolverine so far has tried to kill him on the spot but had spared you for some odd reason, so he probably was preparing himself. “That’s the whole goddamn package right there.” He sounded like he was licking his lips under the mask.

This Wolverine was different, his build looked bigger than the other ones you had met, bulkier and he stood differently too as if he had more confidence in himself.

When he turns to get a good look at you both Wade lets out a girlish squeal as he covers his mouth with his hands.

“Oh, my fuck!” He shouts excitedly smacking you in the arm. “The Cavillrine! The legends are true.”

Now that this one was facing you, you could clearly see his face, he looked completely different from the others, still rugged but not as attractive to you. He looks you dead in the eyes and like all the others before him froze in place when he finally saw you, eyes unreadable as his nose flared.

It shocked you both when this Wolverine calls out your name, clear as day as Wade looks back and forth comically between you two incredulously. He steps forward towards you and you take a step back behind Wade, seeing first hand how violent Wolverine’s can be.

“Sorry to interrupt whatever the fuck that was but may I say, sir, on behalf of all humanity, this just feels right!” Wade says stepping in between you two, breaking the intense eye contact. “We will treat you so much better than those shit fucks down the street.”

“You were just leaving.” This Wolverine snaps calmly as he flicks his wrist, reloading his arms and drawing his claws. With a hard smack of his arm he miscalculates and sends Wade flying into you, through another portal he had opened up at the last minute behind you.

The impact of his body sent you barreling into a pool table as you both flew out of the portal. Messing up whatever game they had going on, a few patrons of the dingy bar you were now in glared at the two of you angrily, one being so bold as to step up to you before Wade stands up grabbing the irate man by his neck, almost instantly putting him to sleep.

Pulling you to your feet, you dusted yourself off from being on the grimy floor and readjusted your clothes. It was getting late, you had no idea how many hours you guys had left but you still hadn’t found a suitable Wolverine to replace your own yet and your chest was starting to tighten up in desperation and fear.

Looking to say something to Wade you realize while you were lost in yourself he had walked off, and instead was going up to a man at the bar. This one you could instantly recognize from behind from his hair tufts alone.

He had found another Wolverine and by the looks of his slouched shoulders this one was neck deep in an alcohol induced pity party.

You followed behind Wade just reaching the bar when the bartender came and took the cup from Wolverine looking equal parts annoyed and scared of the man in front of him. “I told you, you’re not welcome here, you’re not welcome anywhere. Now get the fuck out of my bar.” He said calmly not wanting to cause a big scene but still wanting to get his point across sternly.

“Just give me one more drink and I’ll leave.” The Wolverine answered as he looked down at where his cup had been, he looked the part of a kicked puppy.

“That’s not how this works.” The bartender started again but was interrupted when Wade leaned on the counter beside Wolverine “It does now, leave the bottle thanks.” He says shooing the man away. The bartender stares at the three of you oddly before going off to wipe down another part of the bar, leaving you to it.

This Wolverine’s nose flares as he audibly inhales and snaps his head to look past Wade at you. Unlike with the others before him the emotions in his eyes were clear as day as he looked at you, or more like through you.

Shock, fear, guilt and then ultimately hate welled up in his hazel eyes as he snatched up the bottle of jack the bartender had left beside him talking a few gulps.

“I know you, bub?” He asked you with a hard voice, clearly he did or at least he knew some version of you from this timeline. “Cause you got a lot of fucking nerve wearing the face of a dead girl ‘round me.”

Dead? Were you dead in this timeline?

You open your mouth to speak but Wade cuts you off as he holds up a gloved finger to your lips shushing you.

“Look peanut, I’m sure you two have a lot to talk about, a lot of emotional turmoil to get out and eventually a heartfelt confession gets thrown into the mix followed by, judging from the sex eyes you’re giving each other, a whole lot of fucky fucky time but we’re kinda on a time crunch here so I’m gonna need you to come with us right now.” He said, nodding towards the door. You felt your cheeks heat up at his words, you loved Wade to pieces but sometimes you wish he’d keep his mouth shut.

“Look, lady, I’m not interested.” Wolverine said, tearing his glare away from you to stare down Wade, he thought his outfit looked absolutely ridiculous and that was saying something, then he felt his gaze drift back to you, taking in your scent again.

Not only did you look like her, only a little younger, but you even smelled like her too, albeit just a little bit different. That was something he knew deep in his gut that couldn’t be replicated no matter what copying powers you had, so how the fuck were you standing here in front of him when he himself had buried your dead body almost a year ago?

Snapping his attention back to the conversation, he hadn’t heard a word red had said to him.

“Why would I go with you?” He asked cutting Wade off as he took another sip from the bottle before drunkenly poking him in the forehead

“Because, unfortunately, I need you. We,” he emphasizes gesturing between the two of you, “Need you, our entire world needs you.”

“You guys gonna fuck or fight?” The bartender comes back looking between Wade and Wolverine, clearly tired of having you all in his establishment. Wade looks at the man like he had sprouted a second head before slowly turning back to Wolverine.

“You gonna take that from him?”

“Yup.” The Wolverine says, sounding defeated, like he was tired of even putting up a fight.

“I can tell you sort of have this ‘don’t get too close, I’ll only break your heart’ vibe going here, but every other Wolverine would have really hurt me by now and we’re sort of on the tic-tic, so upsy-daisy.” Wade said standing to his feet pulling Wolverine up from his barstool. He shoves Wade back away from him and you rush behind Wade to pull him away from him at the tell tale snikt sound of his claws coming out, only when you looked down at his balled fists you could only see just the tip of them peeking through his tanned skin, as if he had stopped himself midway from fully pulling them out.

“Whiskey dick with the claws huh? It’s quite common in Wolverines over 40.” Wade jokes half heartedly trying to diffuse the situation or make it worse, you weren’t quite sure.

“Trust me pal, you don’t want this.” The Wolverine said his voice husky as he stared you two down silently pleading for you to leave before he hurt you like he hurt the others.

Sighing heavily Wade pulls out a gun and presses it to Wolverine’s head “Unless you want to take a deep breath through your fucking forehead, I suggest you reconsider.” He gestured to the door with it. “Let’s go, Peanut.”

With a laugh the Wolverine leans into the gun’s muzzle staring right at Wade.

You had had enough. Walking around Wade you stand in between the two men, placing one arm on Wolverine's shoulder and the other on Wade’s arm silently asking him to lower his gun, which he did just ever so slightly, before turning your attention back to Wolverine.

“Look, Wade isn’t always the best at articulating what he needs without making it a joke, but we really do need your help.”

With a snort Wolverine shrugs off your burning touch from his shoulder, you were making him hot, too hot for the stuffy bar, so he reaches back over the bar to grab the bottle of jack again. God you even sounded just like her.

“We’ve been looking for you for a long time, Wolverine!”

“Don’t call me that.”

He hated it when you called him Wolverine.

“Please! Just please!” You cried out grabbing him by his sleeve, he turned to look at you again, his eyes searching your face.

“We really need you! You’re the only one who can fix this! Trust me I would take literally anybody other than you if I could,” you said, growing increasingly frustrated and irritated with the man in front of you.

Ouch.

“But it has to be you! So are you gonna be that somebody or not?”

The Wolverine gets closer to you, you can practically smell the alcohol and his natural musk radiating off of him at his close proximity. He looks at you for a long while as if mulling over what you had just said to him before answering with a “Not.”

“Oh you motherf-!”

You were cut off as Wolverine stands to his full height, towering over you. He grabs at the barrel of Wade’s gun, drunkenly to steady himself as he chuckles. He holds up a finger telling you both to wait as he proceeds to chug down the rest of the nearly full bottle of jack.

“Good God. Thirsty little honey badger, aren’t ya?” Wade looks at him in shock, just as Wolverine pulls the now empty bottle away and goes to reply he hiccups before stumbling and dropping to the ground completely dead to the world.

“I guess you’ll have to do.” Wade groans holstering his gun and going to grab the now passed out Wolverine by his shirt, just as he goes to lift he spots something yellow peeking from underneath.

“Ooh. Look at those jammies.” He said as he starts to unbutton the Wolverine’s shirt. “That only took 20 fucking years!”

Heaving him up on his shoulder Wade groans at the weight of his limp adamantium skeleton, and starts to drag him outside with you following close behind.

“Quick help me get his clothes off, Nugget!” He said dropping the man unceremoniously to the ground as he continued to unbutton his clothes.

“Wade what the fuck are you doing?!” You snap at his hands as he strips him down to his superhero costume underneath.

It was bright yellow with blue accents with light scuffs and scratches on it, it was tight to him, almost like a second skin, his gloved hands adorned with special slots for his claws to pop out, just like in your old comic books, you almost couldn’t tear your eyes away from him as they dragged down his body.

“Eye fuck him some more why don’t you.” Wade said suggestively and if he wasn’t wearing the mask you know he’d be wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You stutter trying to defend yourself as you feel your cheeks heat up. Ignoring you Wade stands back to his feet, slinging one of Wolverine’s arms over his shoulders as he shoulders his weight. Opening up the TVA device he stole, Wade types something in and opens up a new portal. “Save your lady boner for later Nugget we got a timeline to save!”

You wanted to stop him and tell him that the man he was carrying was insufferable even after only knowing him for a solid 10 minutes and that there was no way he’d have you hot in the pants with the way he was acting but your gut was overcome with a feeling of uncertainty.

A feeling that told you that going back to the TVA would be a trap, but knowing that like always once Wade had his mind set on something that was it, you simply tucked your much smaller self under Wolverine’s other shoulder and helped Wade through the portal.

[rbbrbikerthorp]

Biker Upgraded To Cyborg

For as long as anyone could remember, Jake and Eddie had not only been best mates, but they’d been crazy about motorbikes. Both their dads were bikers so it was no surprise that as kids they were introduced to bikes in real life and got to watch MotoGP, WSB and BSB either in real life or on TV with their enthusiast dads.

They were riding off-road in their early teens. They got their first mopeds at 16, upgrading to 125cc bikes a few months after their respective seventeenth birthdays. Now in their early 20s they have held full licences for nearly three years. Jake rides a black Honda CBR600RR, bought second hand through the weekly motorcycling title, MCN. Eddie rides a used Red Yamaha R6 that he bought a couple of months earlier from the main dealer in the city where they live. Springtime and the light evenings meant they would be out as much as possible riding 'the highways and byways', and this day was no exception, but it would be a day that changed their lives forever. 

Jake and Eddie had spent most of Sunday riding and were at the edge of the city when Jake’s bike had started spewing smoke out of the engine before rolling to a stop alongside a large industrial estate. Jake jumped off his bike, but with no tools to hand he had no option but to seek help. He pushed his bike into the entrance to one of the large modern warehouses that populated the industrial estate. Jake kicked the side stand into place and sighed heavily. Eddie pulled in alongside Jake, kicked down the stand on his before turning off the ignition.

Although they were back in the city, they were still about ten miles from home. Jake reached into his leathers for his phone only then realising that they were in an area without mobile phone coverage. Jake and Eddie looked around for a payphone to call the breakdown service - but in this era of mobile technology, BT had removed most of the phone boxes - so there wasn't one within sight. Realising they needed to get help they looked around for signs of life. In front of them was a sprawling grey structure resembling more of a fortress than a warehouse. Its metallic surfaces gleamed under the late afternoon sun, making it look otherworldly. Figuring it might be their best chance at getting help—or at least finding a phone—they started walking towards the massive building.

The front gate was oddly open, inviting yet silent. Jake and Eddie didn't think it weird for a security guard building to be unoccupied with the gates open. More concerned about getting help they walked towards the main building entrance. Jake pressed on the intercom button and waited for a response. After a minute he pushed the button again, but this time there was a buzz. Jake looked at Eddie and shrugged his shoulders, pushing on the door, it opened. They walked inside.

Expecting to see a reception area the two friends were surprised to enter the building at what appeared to be the beginning of a long dimly lit corridor. Jake and Eddie looked at one another, Jake spoke first, “Why don’t you wait here, while I see if I can find anyone to speak to”.

Eddie nodded.

Both looked at one another, for a moment unsure of what to do. Then Jake smiled, turned and started walking along the seemingly endless corridor, his boots echoing on the cold, concrete floor. The air was chillingly sterile, as he walked he would pass the occasional door and window revealing glimpses of high-tech interiors.

"Hello?" he called out, his voice disappearing into the ether without an answer. The lack of response was unnerving, but as he walked on he could hear noise coming from much further along the corridor. Jake kept walking, driven by his need to get to a phone and call the breakdown service to sort out his bike.

Eventually, the corridor turned to the right, after another dozen or so yards it opened up into a colossal space. What Jake witnessed was like a scene reminiscent of a sci-fi horror film.

The room was stark yet brightly lit. On one side it was filled with row upon row of raised surgical beds. Yet these weren't like the ones you’d see in a hospital; they were repurposed contraptions where human flesh was being melded with alien, synthetic and electronic components. Shocked by what he was witnessing, he turned his head, but there was no escape from the nightmare he found himself in.

The other side of the room was populated with dozens of cylindrical tubes. Jake’s eyes widened as he took in the sight before him—humans, all young males, lined up and undergoing transformations into, well all he could think of was 'something else'. Whichever way he turned he could see men his age were being outfitted with mechanical limbs, others had technology intricately woven onto weird shiny black body suits, still others were in varying stages of being processed into full cyborgs.

The horror gripped him; his instinct was to flee back to Eddie and both to get the hell out of there. But before he could move, cold metal hands grasped his shoulders with an iron grip. His heart sank as he was spun around to face what had caught him—a cyborg, its body a haunting hybrid of human and machine, expressionless yet totally menacing.

“Welcome," its voice an unsettling blend of tones, both mechanical whilst still eerily human. "Your arrival is opportune. Your integration process will commence shortly."

Panic surged through Jake as he struggled, but the cyborg's grip was unyielding. Despite putting up strong resistance, he was dragged towards one of the ominous stations. Glancing around, he noticed the other captives were not fighting; their eyes showed a haunting resignation, some flickering with the vague light of fear.

As he was forced onto what appeared to be a surgical table, Jake looked around frantically, hoping for any chance of escape. His heart raced as mechanical arms equipped with various tools whirred to life around him. 

In a split second metallic straps shot out from the surgical table and tightened around his limbs and across his torso, a sense of utter helplessness began to wash over him. His heart pounded hard against his chest. He desperately sought that extra bit of human strength that would allow him to escape. He struggled and struggled against the restraints, but the metal straps simply wouldn’t budge.

Stage one of his transformation was about to begin. From above a helmet descended slowly from the ceiling, its approach marked by an audible, mechanical whirring. Jake squinted upwards, his breath coming in sharp gasps. He was used to his bike helmet, but this was unworldly.

Two drones approached the surgical table Jake was strapped to and grabbed the helmet, which had opened up. One lifted his head slightly and the other slid the back of the helmet under the back of his head. As the helmet closed over his head, a claustrophobic fear gripped him. The world outside the helmet faded, leaving him in a confined sphere of existence. Almost immediately, an overwhelming barrage of white noise bombarded his ears, punctuated by low, droning hums that seemed to resonate through his bones.

Then, the visuals began on the inside of the visor. Spirals of colour appeared in front of his eyes, intertwining and unraveling in hypnotic patterns. Reds, blues, yellows and greens blended into a kaleidoscope that threatened to absorb his mind. Jake tried to close his eyes, but the images were inescapable, imprinted on the insides of his eyelids, searing themselves into his brain and more nefariously his subconsciousness. Almost as if recognising Jake was finally submitting the noise and visuals seemed to become amplified.

As the sensory overload continued, Jake felt a strange detachment creeping through him—a numbness that suggested the audio and visuals were beginning to take effect. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a small voice screamed in terror and defiance, urging him to resist, urging him to hold on to his identity.

With a surge of willpower, Jake focused on that voice, blocking out the chaos threatening to engulf him. He concentrated on memories of standing in the stands watching the best riders in the world, the challenging rides with Eddie, the feel of his motorcycle, the wind against his leathers. He thought about his best mate Eddie and the fun they’d had. He thought about his family and his other friends. These human experiences, these emotional connections to his past life, became a lifeline to cling onto.

As Jake fought against the sensory bombardment, the helmet detected his resistance, It recalibrated its internal mechanisms in response to his defiance. Suddenly, the white noise in his ears shifted, morphing into a series of low, almost inaudible subliminal messages. Each word—"relax", "comply", "obey", "drone", "conform", "follow", "respect" could be heard—the words flashed across his vision, barely there long enough for conscious recognition, but deeply penetrating his subconscious.

The colours that swirled before his eyes intensified, becoming more vibrant and pulsating rhythmically, as if to synchronise with his own heartbeat. It was a sensory assault designed to break down the walls of the individual, to reshape his mind into something more compliant and obedient. Jake’s initial surge of resistance began to wane as mental exhaustion set in, the messages infiltrated deeper into his psyche, their insistence relentless and overpowering.

His eyes, once sharp with determination and fear, started to lose focus, the vibrant spirals turning into a soothing blur. The resistance in his muscles softened as his body began to accept the inevitability of his situation. His thoughts, those last bastions of his free will, were slowly suffocated under the warm, smothering blanket of compliance and security that the helmet now forced upon him.

With an audible click and a beep, the helmet sealed its final adjustment, signalling the completion of its preparatory phase. At this cue, the two drones, their movements precise and devoid of any hesitation, glided smoothly towards the table where Jake lay subdued. Their appendages were equipped with various tools and devices necessary for the transformation process.

The drones worked efficiently, attaching additional apparatus to Jake’s limbs and interfacing seamlessly with the helmet. As they initiated the physical transformation, Jake’s body was being prepared to receive bio-mechanical enhancements that would connect him irrevocably to The Hive which he learned was housed within the humongous building.

Somewhere in the dwindling recesses of his mind, the essence of who Jake once was—a biker with a love for the open road—flickered weakly. This essence watched as his limbs and muscle fibres were methodically integrated with synthetics and his nervous system was integrated with advanced circuitry. The process was both horrifying and fascinating to watch.

As the transformation progressed, Jake’s human senses were gradually overridden by electronic inputs. His vision, once clouded by the colourful spirals, now interfaced directly with data streams providing real-time analytics about his environment. His hearing was no longer filled with subliminal messages but was tuned to various frequencies beyond the range of human hearing.

By the time the transformation was complete, Jake, as he had been, no longer existed. In his place stood a new Jake, a cyborg, what was exclusively biological had been augmented with technology. The drones, recognising another successful integration, had begun to step back.

The new Jake climbed down from the surgical table to be guided by the two drones. He moved with a robotic precision that was both chilling and enthralling to witness. He was led to what looked like a modified dentist's chair, but larger and imposing. The chair had been upgraded and was fitted with numerous ports and circuitry interfaces. Without hesitation, he sat down, his actions appearing devoid of the personality that had once defined him.

He leaned back so that his head touched the headrest. The chair immediately sprang to life, adjusting to accommodate his new form. A second later the old Jake would have felt a light sensation on both sides of his head as what can only be described of as two metallic ear pieces, out of which came sets of wires slid into his ears and began to work. 

Somewhere, an echo of the old Jake could sense what was happening, words echoed around the room and in his head. Screens nearby flashed “accessing biological memories…beginning total erasure”. 

“NNNOOOOOOOO”, But even as the word was said, Jake’s relatively short lifetime of memories were disappearing, flashing before his eyes for a split second before evaporating into nothing - gone forever. 

Monitors next to the chair flashed “Memory Wipe successful,” again, the words echoed around the room. 

Any human observer in the room looking at new Jake’s face would describe it as passive, distant, dull, emotionless. Empty. His eyes were missing their human sparkle. 

Then the drone formerly known as Jake again felt another funny feeling in his ears, as if a static charge was coming out of the wire. Suddenly the screen flashed “Beginning Program Upload”… While that happened, nearby monitors flashed, “Emotional Centres being accessed”. 

“Installing Human Emotion Suppression Software”

“… 10%… 20%… 30%… 40%… 50%… 60%… 70%… 80%… 90%…  ”

“Human Emotions Suppression Software installed. Fully functional.”

The monitors flickered for a moment and then more text appeared, “Beginning Cyborg Program Upload”. The upload began. The Hive, a vast network of interconnected AI and data banks, started feeding a stream after stream of programming directly into Jake's brain. These were not merely instructions; they were directives that informed behaviour, dictated functions, and defined purpose.

For hours, data was input into him, a relentless torrent of information reshaping and repurposing him; any lingering traces of his previous humanity now completely overwritten. His eyes, once vibrant with youthful emotion, now displayed a steady, unblinking focus as the programming was embedded, ensuring his obedience and efficiency.

At the appropriate time the interface with the new Jake confirmed the programming had been successful. “Operating at 100%,” it said in an emotionless, synthetic voice. “Organic memories have been wiped. Emotional Suppression Software is fully functional. The new data and objectives have been successfully uploaded with zero errors”.

The chair returned to an upright position, and the new Jake stood once more. His movements were smooth, almost graceful, a stark contrast to the somewhat ‘cavalier’ sports biker he once was. He was a product of advanced technology, a being created to serve a purpose far beyond his previous human desires.

Approaching him now were two more drones, carrying items that symbolised his final transformation. They presented him with a set of Dainese bike leathers, not ordinary leathers but augmented to interface seamlessly with his cybernetic body. The leathers were equipped with sensors and conductive circuitry that could communicate directly with his system, enhancing his interaction with the Hive.

Then they presented him with a pair of white boots, larger to accommodate the modifications of his feet, designed not only for protection but also to enhance his connection to the ground and his bike. Gloves that reached up to his arms were fitted next, embedded with micro-circuitry to increase his grip and control.

Finally, they brought over a new crash helmet unlike any other. This helmet was his direct link to the Hive mind. It was designed to keep him constantly connected to the Hive's data stream.

As the helmet settled over his head, a subtle hum filled the air, signalling the activation of all its systems. The new Jake stood there, a figure of both awe and dread, transformed entirely from the young man who had once freely roamed the roads on his motorcycle.

Now equipped, Jake was led to a new motorcycle, one that matched his new form. To the casual observer it looked like a traditional bike that had been upgraded; integrated with technology that responded fluidly to his enhanced senses and capabilities. As he mounted the bike, the connection between man and machine was seamless, a perfect union crafted by the Hive’s sophisticated engineering.

The new Jake rode the highway on his futuristic bike, a sleek and menacing marvel of technology that effortlessly caught the eye of any enthusiast. Its design was unlike anything on the roads—sharp angles, glowing panels, and a subtle hum that hinted at its advanced capabilities. It was designed not just for speed and efficiency, but as a lure to attract exactly the kind of individuals the Hive sought to convert.

As he travelled along a popular bikers’ route known for its scenic views and biker cafes, he spotted his next targets. Two young bikers, probably in their twenties, had pulled over in a lay-by, their bikes parked as they enjoyed a brief pause in their riding, catching up on conversation and checking their mobile phones. The new Jake slowed down, looking at the two bikers oblivious to Jake’s presence, his connection to the Hive confirmed they would be perfect candidates for upgrade.

Pulling over smoothly, Jake dismounted his bike. His helmet's visor slid up as he approached them, revealing a face that was human enough to be relatable but enhanced subtly with metallic hints that suggested something more beneath the surface. 

"Hey," Jake called out, his voice modulated to be friendly and inviting. “Hey there. Not seen you riding ‘round here before.”

The two young bikers, intrigued by the stranger and his extraordinary bike, smiled and walked over. “What is that you’re riding? It looks like it’s straight out of a sci-fi movie. What is that?" one of them asked, his curiosity piqued.

The new Jake chuckled, a sound perfectly calibrated to put others at ease. He needed to win their trust so began to make conversation with them. "It’s a custom build from a place not too far from here. They’re experimenting with some next-gen and EV tech. You guys interested in seeing where something like this comes from?"

The offer was tempting. The allure of advanced technology and the chance to see more bikes like Jake’s was too good to pass up for any avid biker. The young men exchanged a glance, a silent conversation passing between them before they nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, definitely,” the other replied. “We’ll follow you!"

Jake smiled and nodded, turning back to his bike. As they put their helmets on and started their engines, a part of Jake’s programming confirmed the successful engagement of two targets. He led the way, riding at a pace that was thrilling yet careful to keep his new followers comfortably in tow.

The journey took them away from the familiar routes into less traveled roads, the scenery shifting subtly as they moved closer to facility where he had been transformed. The two bikers were unaware of the true nature of their destination, caught up in the thrill of the ride and the excitement of seeing advanced motorcycle tech.

After some time, they arrived at the vast building that looked more like a huge distribution centre than a motorcycle manufacturing factory. The gates opened automatically as Jake approached, a silent signal of his authority and belonging.

Jake signalled for the other two bikers to do follow him down a roadway between two buildings. Jake brought his bike to a stop, opened his visor and announced, ”we are here.” The other two brought their bikes to a stop, dismounted and removed their helmets.

Jake walked forwards into the huge building just ahead of them; the two other bikers looked at one another, shrugged their shoulders and followed. They would ingress through a different route compared to the one Eddie and Jake entered.

The space inside they walked into was clean and modern, filled with prototypes and machines that made the two young bikers' eyes widen in awe.

"This is incredible!" one of the exclaimed, walking closer to inspect a particularly sleek model that caught his eye. "How do you get in on this?"

Jake's response was calculated, his tone still friendly but now carrying an undercurrent of persuasion. "Well, there's actually a selection process. Part of why I brought you here. If you're interested, there’s a quick tour and some tests to see if you're compatible with the tech."

Excited and completely unaware of the implications, the two young men agreed eagerly, following Jake deeper into the facility. As they walked, the doors behind them closed silently, the outside world receding as they moved further into the realm of the Hive.

Little did they know, their fascination with bikes and the temptation of combining their love of biking and dreams of futuristic bikes had led them into a trap. This walk would be their last as mere humans, as they stepped unknowingly into the next phase of their lives dictated by The Hive's needs.

=========

Oh, are you wondering what happened to Eddie? As you might have expected The Hive detected his presence and determined a new purpose for him, but that’s another story.

[kwisatzworld]

The first time I actually saw Vale was at a gala in Barcelona for the Sport Awards sponsored by IWC. I was the only journalist in a tuxedo. The editor-in-chief of Donna Moderna had told me to try to snag an interview with him on the sly. So, I kept my eyes on him all night, and when he got up to chat with some friends and Arianna, his girlfriend at the time, I slipped into the group and asked him a question. He turned to me, laughing, and asked, “Who are you?” A journalist, I replied. I was just starting out, a bit naive, thinking of being a journalist as some kind of status. Not for Valentino, though: “Then I’m not talking to you.” He turned away and completely ignored me. End of story.

Then I joined Riders, even though I knew next to nothing about motorcycles. So, I started studying. And only then did everything start to connect for me: his decision to switch to Yamaha to prove he was the best, even without Honda, his rivalry with Biaggi, the tax controversies, his comeback victories, and the antics to celebrate them—all of it was already framing a legend, an incredible story. That’s when I got the idea to dedicate a cover to him and his father, Graziano. They’d only been interviewed together once before, and it hadn’t gone well. I was sure mine would be a hit. We set it up. I interviewed Vale and Graziano separately. I spent nearly four hours with Graziano in the Yamaha hospitality and had 15 minutes with Vale in a small office in the same place. Was I nervous before meeting him? I remember I was—very much so. At the end of the interview, I suggested he pose nude, embracing his motorcycle, both of them lying down, shot from above, inspired by that famous photo of John Lennon and Yoko Ono. He replied that, no, he’d never do it nude. And then he left. I was left with the impression that he had no real sense of the legendary status he held or of the power his story already had. I liked that, honestly—it made him feel more relatable. Someone you could talk to about Inter and girls, and nothing else.

I reentered Vale’s world when we arranged an interview with Uccio. Uccio was his personal assistant back then; now he’s in charge of the VR46 Academy. In those days, he also drove the motorhome. We agreed to do the interview on the road, so we met outside Milan, and I joined him for the drive to Barcelona. Uccio struck me as a bit of an enigma—a tough guy, not one to warm up easily. We spent the journey listening to Vasco and Cremonini, chatting, and smoking. Vale called him only once, just to ask when his Nike sneakers would arrive. Uccio said to me, “Do you know how many people would like to please Valentino?” Uccio, who calls him “il Capo,” Uccio who, at one point, sang out loud against the windshield to Cremonini’s song PadreMadre: “Padre, occhi gialli e stanchi, cerca ancora coi tuoi proverbi a illuminarmi…”

After reading the interview, Uccio crossed paths with me in the paddock and simply said, “Nice article. Nice.” Then he walked back into hospitality. Only later did I understand that giving that compliment, with the way he is, had cost him a lot.

In the meantime, I got a call from Gabriele Romagnoli, one of Italy’s finest journalists—narrative and romantic. He called me to Rome, and over coffee in a fading bar, he proposed I write a book about Rossi for the publishing house 66thand2nd. The idea was to portray Vale in the aftermath of the accident with Simoncelli. A story of human tragedy and novel-like fate. Life and destiny. The book never came to be. I’d wake up at 5 every morning, writing from 5:30 to 8:30, but what I wrote lacked truth. I wasn’t deep enough into Vale’s mind to pull it off, and the more I wrote, the more I realized that he was slipping through my grasp.

In an attempt to understand him, I even sought advice from an astrologer, Chiara Viola. She told me, “Of course he eludes you—you’re used to seeking the meaning of things in depth. Vale doesn’t even question the meaning of things. He just lives. You’re vertical, he’s horizontal. You live in the past and the future; he seems superficial, but in reality, he’s a constant present.” That description helped me more than anything else in understanding how Valentino overcame everything, especially Marco’s death. And today, as I see him calmly approaching the moment of his last race, I recall that phrase.

What luck I’ve had. What luck we’ve all had to have you, Vale. Luck for those who stood by you every day, for those who admired you only on TV or in the papers, for those who commented on you, interviewed you, and even for those who never missed a chance to give you a hard time. What luck we’ve had. To experience you, to grow up with you. Because that’s exactly what it’s been about. To rejoice and despair with you. Yes, what luck. Today an era ends. A generation comes to a close. It’s been splendid. And that, dear Vale, no one can ever take from us. No one. Ever.

[soapywankenopy]

SDV car headcannons

[this gets pretty specific because i've had way too much time to think about it]

1. Harvey

Harvey drives an old, beat-up red Ford Ranger. It's a standard transmission, and the clutch is super finicky, so when he tries to drive other cars, he has a bad habit of shoving in the clutch too hard (or if it's an automatic, slamming on the break, thinking it's the clutch). It was a gift from his parents when he started med school. It was old when they bought it, but Harvey does his best to maintain it. He's not a "truck guy," but he changes his own oil and keeps it running well. He would like to buy a Subaru because quote, "they're very safe cars," but he doesn't use his truck a lot as it is, so he doesn't see a need to get a new car.

2. Leah

Leah drives a silver Subaru Baja. You can not convince me otherwise. She views cars as a necessary evil. It wasn't really all that useful in the city, but she's glad to have it now that she lives in Pelican town. It's well-loved, and it's pretty beat-up, but Leah says it works fine for what she needs it for.

3. Shane

He drives a 1999 Ford Taurus in that weird pinky-gold color. It smells like pizza and pepper poppers, and there are feathers in the backseat. Sometimes, he'll let Jas sit on his lap in the driver's seat and let her steer while he works the pedals. Mayor Lewis caught them once and was not happy. Shane does it anyway because it makes Jas happy.

4. Sebastian

He drives a motorcycle, lol. I admittedly do not know very much about motorcycles, but it looks like a blue Kawasaki Vulcan to me, but idk. (If you know more about motorcycles, feel free to give your two cents)

5. Sam

Sam does not have his own car, but he frequently borrows the family van. It's a silver 2003 Honda Oddysey. The van lands him with driver duty for the band and their equipment.

6. Elliott

Elliott disagrees with cars ideologically. He had a grey 2004 Mitsubishi Outlander that he inherited from his aunt. He sold it before he moved to Pelican town. He thinks it's more romantic to walk everywhere, but if you ask him why he walks everywhere, he'll say, "Because of the environment."

7. Penny

Penny doesn't drive. Pam tried a million times to teach her, but Penny just doesn't want to. She doesn't trust herself with such heavy machinery.

8. Maru

Maru does not have a car but will borrow Robin's work truck if she needs to. Sebastian definitely taught her how to ride a motorcycle. One of her many ongoing projects is a custom bike for Sebastian. Demetrius was very insistant that she learned to drive stick.

9. Abigail

Abigail does not know how to drive. Pierre was too busy, and Caroline never felt the need to teach her. She's happy to explore by foot, so it doesn't really bother her.

10 & 11. Emily & Haley

Their parents bought them a 2012 light green Toyota Prius to share. Haley thinks it's cute and Emily likes that it's a hybrid. Haley says eventually she might buy a blue Volkswagen Bug.

12. Alex

Alex doesn't drive and it's a sore subject for him. Don't bring it up. He might end up crying. He's always said that he would want a green Dodge Charger as soon as he learns to drive.

I have more headcannons about the other characters, so I may put them in another post

[rianmobili]

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[ijustwant2ride]

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[leathercollectionus]

Replica Motorcycle Road Racing Leathers

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