The engine rumbled like a beast beneath him, the vibration carrying through the heavy frame and into his body so that every nerve ending seemed to buzz with power. 

A quick glance at his mirror showed him the lane was clear so he hit the turn signal with his thumb and slid over to take his exit off the freeway, slowing as he came to the light. 

In the distance he could see the shape of Mt. Justice and another tingle ran through him, one that had nothing to do with the massive motorcycle beneath him. 

"A new Young Justice," he muttered to himself, grinning from ear to ear behind the visor of his helmet. Within fifteen minutes he pulled up to find a notify collection of individuals already waiting at the entrance. He cut the power and coasted to a stop, turning so he was parallel to the door and turned off the ignition. 

"Oi," he called over to the others already there. "How goes it, lovelies? Tis a fine mornin' for bashing in some bad guy heads,  idn't it?" He had a thick accent and a cheerful smile as he placed his helmet on the handle bar then turned in his seat, back against the tank with his legs stretched out toward the tail of the bike. 

From an inside pocket of his jacket he pulled a pouch of tobacco and papers and quickly rolled himself a cigarette which he lit and dragged a deep breath of smoke into his lungs.

"Why're we all standin' around out here like a buncha knobs? Somebody ferget ta leave a key under tha mat fer us?" He asked, a puff of smoke escaping his mouth with every word.