[h1][color=blue]Lokki[/color][/h1] [i]August 18, 2039 9AM, State of New Jersey, near I-95 Highway[/i] ___________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Up on his feet since early morning, Lokki was casually riding his tricycle towards the Big Apple without a worry on his mind. It was an unusually warm morning with a slight breeze coming from the Atlantic Ocean, sun’s rays barely making through the clouds that have engulfed the US since a long time ago, making a number of beams coming down from the heavens like needles puncturing a piece of cloth. [color=blue]“Love the smell of ash in the morning”[/color]- he commented to himself after a cloud of charcoal odor caught up to him. As he casually pushed the pedals of his three-wheeler in a forward motion in the middle of the highway while noticing the large green table that reminded him he is nearing New York City, he quickly remembered his routine when approaching large city ruins - there is always trouble entering or exiting them. To keep it safe, he decided to get off the main road and have a try at some lesser known ways of getting in to avoid any potential threats. He made a sharp turn towards the exit, leaving the wide and empty road that stretched for as long as eyes can see and found himself in a suburban area of New Jersey. With not much to see other than ruble of what was once buildings and houses, he continued his way down a small road that ran parallel to the highway and the Arthur Kill strait that divided New Jersey state from Staten Island, New York. Without a worry in mind he started curving from one end of the road to the other, quite clearly enjoying his ride while listening to [i]Thousand Miles[/i] by Vanessa Carleton on a [i]discman[/i] he found in Columbus, Ohio, and had it fixed by some handyman in Pittsburgh in exchange for a bag of cherry lollipops, which he later stole back, one of which he is sucking on right this minute. Whenever this song came up he’d mumble the bridge and sing the chorus, never getting it down right despite the fact he’s been listening to it for a month. Enjoying his ride for about half an hour with his jester hat dangling in the wind, the road was curving over a ridge and above it you could just barely pick out what was once New Jersey skyline. He paused his ride for a while on top of the ridge, taking off his goggles and taking in the surroundings. He quickly realized that on the right side he could see Staten Island, and beyond that was his destination – New York City. From his point of view he could also see the bridge connecting the two states, however, as cautious as he is, he decided not to go directly to it but instead use an old pirate telescope he carried in his tricycle basket to check it out for any signs of activity while benevolently letting out a silent [color=blue]“Yarrr”[/color]. Sure enough, a group of people were waiting on one end of the bridge, most likely preying on new-comers and “welcoming” them the old-fashioned way – with ambush. Clearly things are not looking up as the bridge is the only way in and it would take too much time and risk to the next one. He decided to look for a boat or anything he could use to get across the body of water that was in his way towards his goal.