[IC] Dystopian Grand Prix

[Treue]

Alexandria had finished her cigarette, and as the train began to come to a stop, she readied another. She placed the white stick between her puckered lips and stood, kicked the burnt match under her seat. Alexandria moved in front of the doors that would open to the track, bracing slightly against the deceleration of the train. The doors opened as movement ceased, and Alexandria struck another match to light her new cigarette while cameras photographed the racers exiting the transport.

She flicked the old butt and newly burnt out match as she walked toward her vehicle, and noticed Moira's exitement over her own ride. "If we both live, I don't see why not. It's time to burn some rubber now though!" She placed a hand on the door and vaulted over it, sliding her legs down into the seat. Her T-tops had been removed for this race since the weather was nice, making her entry much easier and more smooth.

The music playing from the car of one of the competitors had been turned up quite loud, and Alexandria decided it was time to drown it out a bit. She slammed her left foot down on the clutch as she shoved the key into the ignition and turned it, starting a cacophony of combustion in her engine bay, exploding its way out her dual exhaust. After giving the engine a few seconds to warm up, Alexandria shifted into first gear and dumped the clutch as she pushed her right foot sharply down to the floor on the gas pedal, causing her RPMs to skyrocket and her four rear tires to break traction, as well as the one in the center of the nose, a loud squealing and roaring from the engine overpowering much of the noise. The five tires smoked as Alexandria let off the gas and pressed the brake and clutch in again, shifting back into neutral. A childish grin crossed her lips from the enjoyment of burning out, and Alexandria knew the warmed rubber would grip even better on the smooth pavement.

She stuck her head out the roof and looked around at the other racers with a look of sheer bliss, the competition no longer fazing her as the alcohol kicked in and mixed with the relaxing tobacco. She was here to have fun and prove she could out race anyone with her ride, and couldn't care less about the prize money as her family was already wealthy. With her cigarette hanging in the left corner of her mouth she spoke, "Here's hoping at least some of you will be able to keep up! Not gonna be too fun if I just leave you all in the dust!" With that she dropped back down into her seat, giving her engine a gently revving as she waited for the race to begin. "Not much longer now girl, we're going to show those sponsors who to pick. Real easy choice."

[PatrickDrummer]

Everyone else had piled out of the train and Riku just waited so he can get out. Not a lot of cameras were flashing for him, and there wasn't a lot of cheers going his way. No all of that mostly went to the other racers who had made names for themselves. He kept his headphones on as he walked over to his car. Other racers were already in their cars; some blasting loud music, and others were just preparing their cars for a seemingly simple race track.

Guess it's time.

Riku walked over to his car opening the door and sitting down in the drivers seat. Eyeing the race track and what the conditions are for this race. No weapons should make things easier on him. "Well this is it... And this is the right song."

Let's Race

[6slyboy6]

Robert woked up as the train approached the race track. It seemed like he dozed off on the way here. Now one perk of the mask was that he wasn't drolling all over the place. His HUD showed him the time and the race track as he straightened himself. Another perk of the blasted mask. He stood up and looked around teh car as it was stopping at the station. The mask pinned every potential rivals and marked their danger levels along with their cars and their specs. Everyone from now on is an enemy. Anastasia had an especially interesting car. A moon rover. It will be interesting to see how it stands the course. Robert waited for a fewminutes as teh others left, checking all the data on his HUD. The track was very simple, nothing like the tricky turns you need tot ake in a street race. Only one hairpin turn and nothing else. Midway through the analysis the drunken guy bumped into him. "There's a very big bounty on your head, gramps, If you end up being brutally killed in this promo race, best believe I'm taking credit for it." The guy went past, and the HUD refreshed the racer's data. Jake Spencer, #31, Threat Level: Medium. Caution advised. Marked as potential target. Robert smiled and dismissed the message.

Once all the racers left he also left the train. There was no need to rush: the race was still minutes away to begin and the others will most likely try to show off. Amateurs. As he was going in he inspected teh crowd gathering around. Some started pointing at him in excitement, and others looked at him with suspicous gazes. He was a name in the racing community and even after many years of retirement people knew him well. Of course the ones he will be racing with are msotly too young to know him, but he didn't mind. The only ones who were important to him were his old crew mates. He murmured a quick prayer that his mates will see him race and win these games.

AS he entered the starting line there was a huge mess of all the racers. Some were listening to music really loud, and others tried to overcome this beat by reving up their engines. Him? He didn't care. Only amateurs try to make sure they are in the middle of the attention. His car was standing between all the cars in all her beauty. Military grade reactive armor plates, custom V16 engine, Race Spec tires and bulletproof glass. The mortars on the side reflected the light and made sure everyone knew what they would be dealing with. If a race allows guns, he was sure to bring the best. But the real present of this amchine was still hidden in the chassis. He didn't want to scare away his racing partners. The 25mm chaingun turret was hiding in the palce of the back seat, ready to pop out as soon as the race started. 500RPM, sending bullets at any foes with the speed of 1 mach. The gun is used for naval warfare, but there is no issues bringing it to a race like this. Not many will be bale to survive this gun. Especially once this car gets up to speed, it will have no problem dealing with annoying brats.

As soon as he closed the door the sounds were completely muted. Robert flicked some switches and the lights came on with a avriety of tools that assisted the chain gun. Guidance for teh mortar system and the sort. The nitrous gauge was empty, and it stood more like an old relic than an actual part of the car. But who knows, maybe one day he will fill it up and use it again. Who knows.

The racers were all having their own hearts and minds time. The race wasn't worth dying for. This was to get sponsors so you could make your car specs better for next race. Of course the winner will get the best sponsors, no dount about that. And looking around it seemed like the fastest cars will rule this easy track. But as soon as trickier tracks come along, any car with more grip can easely get ahead of these fools. But Robert didn't mind not being first. His entire life was about being first on the tracks and thats what got him here, in this mask and car. So if he can't win the attention of racing companies, he will make sure that he cna get the attention of "less traditional" sponsors, like those selling weapons and the sort. That said, there was sure to be a large requests for him, as many companies will try to affiliate their names with his. We'll see. His face became numb for a second as the mask filled his veins with speed and other drugs to enchance his reflexes. He grabbed the well and revved the beastly V16 engine up to the max, so loud that glass and armor couldn't mute it down. "Heck yeah. You still got it baby. Let's show these pricks how the Gas Guzzlers really drive."

[Dolerman]

The Commentators: Rob & Griff

Name: Robert Nivens and Stanley Griffin
Age: 29 & 32
Height: 5'10 & 5'11
Weight: 171 & 180
Nationality: British-American and New Zealander
Apperance:


Bio: Two Ex-Musicians who's careers took a nose-dive when their record label was bought out by a building corporation. They both had to work jobs as Radio DJs for small embarrassing stations until they landed the career of a lifetime. To be Commentators for the Dystopian Grand Prix. Robert (on the left) is the play by play commentator and Griff (on the right) provides colour commentary and background.

Start Your Engines

Rob:
Well I gotta say Griff, I am absolutely loving the weather today, its always nice to be able to be working here in Sunny San Francisco, the drivers look happy dont they?

Griff:
You can say that again Rob, and they better make the most of it in this light promo race because lord knows most of the race tracks in this Grand Prix aren't this Luxurious, know what I mean?

Rob:
I certainly do, these 10 are a lucky bunch to have started on the sun soaked tourist trap course, and its a gentle intro into the competetion. As we know this is only a promo race to get the fans and investors excited but its still a race that will have some effect on their competitive records and online rankings so I can see them all fighting to put on the best show possible, looks like all the racers are in their cars now...

The crowds cleared the streets and all of the holo camereas began to hover around the track, the crowds at home and on site were all screaming. There was a few fans in the crowd but all individual chants were being drowned out by rival fans..apart from one chant.

DILL-DAN, HE'S OUR MAN, DILL-DAN, WERE YOUR FANS!!

Griff:
Ahh I see #11 Dillion Daniels has a few fans in the crowd, apparently his somewhat wild lifestyle off the track has gotten him quite a following on social media, maybe we can get him to follow us back if he survives this race, Rob?

Rob:
Well he would owe us for the free advertising you just gave him.......I can now here the engines roaring, the race lights are about to switch on. I can hear the Stylo roaring the loudest, Riku Gracer's Throwback Muscle Car gets a lot of attention with that sound. I don't now how well it will fair though, guess we can only wait and see.

Griff:
Riku 'The Kid' Gracer is a bit of a dark horse for this race, according to our online polls, The Cyberpunk, The Mask and The Tech Junkie are the favourites among our younger viewers. But The Rockabilly is the favourite among racing enthusiasts, this should be interesting indeed....Oh here comes the countdown, hold on to your seats folks!

READY....

SET......

GO!!!!!!

The screeching tires was painful to the ears, all 10 cars hit the gas right off the switch and propelled into forward momentum trying to find prime position in the first milliseconds of the race. There were no collisions as the track is fairly wide and gave room to manuver into appropriate lanes.

Rob:
And they are off! damn that's a pretty sight, watching the cars fall into position like that, it looks like #13 Alex Sturlson, #27 Jimmy Brown and #18 Moira McCarthy have the superior Accelleration and are all pretty much tied leading the pack neck and neck alongside each other, I wonder if this is going to end up with any rough stuff with the drivers so close to each other Griff.

Griff:
Well for the most part the rest of the pack is pretty much in one bunch not too far behind them, with Rayla Keroza in a slight lead of the middle pack in 4th place and the #82 The Mask a little ways behind in last place, low acceleration but a damn scary vehicle all the same, how will this race play out?

[Treue]

Alexandria sat in her seat and stared intently at the starting lights. Her foot pressed the clutch pedal down to the floor as she waited in first gear, revving the engine to three thousand RPMs. The race was about to start and she was in her own world. All she could see now was the red light telling her to wait patiently. The light suddenly turned yellow, and Alexandria gripped the wheel and shifter knob tightly.

As the light changed to green, she released the clutch pedal, warm tires chirping as they struggled to maintain what grip they could. The car jerked forward, and climbed towards redline quickly. Alexandria stomped the clutch in a few hundred RPMs below the red to keep it in the powerband, pulled the knob straight down into second, gassed it good and let her foot off the clutch in an instant, causing the car to take off as the clutch grabbed the gear. Her exhaust could clearly be heard through the dual straight pipes, turbines in her compressors sounding like jet engines as they spooled up to speed.

Alexandria was already pulling away from the competition, with only two others managing to hold their own against her engine's sheer power. "I suppose this may get interesting if they can keep up with me around the corners," A smirk crossed her lips as she looked out her windows to see her competition. "Moira, looks like we'll get to have some fun. And the other one... Looks like Brown's car." The engine roared as it neared redline again, and Alexandria tilted the wheel over to the left slightly. The car steadily moved to the left side of the track as she once again depressed the clutch pedal in order to shift up from second to third. The noise under her hood quieted as the RPMs dropped, and Alexandria straightened the wheel as she got ready to cut to the right to make the inside of the turn and the next in a smooth race line.

[6slyboy6]

Robert trained his eyes on the lights. Time slowed down in the waiting and he could hear every heartbeat. His breath paired to the car's engines and his hands stuck to the wteering wheel. When the game is about to start the world stops toe xis and it is only you and your car. But when the green light hits and the whole race track is ahead of you, the only thing you can concentrate on is racing. Racing Dirty. The engine reved at a steady 6000, ready to move the few tons under a second. Red light. His msucles tensed and his grip strenghtened around the wheel. First yellow. Second. Third. His breath held back, his vision tunneled, his enrve ont he edge and his hand grasping the clutch. Green.

He moved the clutch straight to the second gear, released the pedal and stepped onto the gas. As the engine began transferring torque to the wheels the car pulled him forward. It wasn't as fast as the rides he used to have in Gas Guzzlers, but he didn't need to worry too mnuch back then. The armor plates slowed down teh car's acceleration. In a few seconds he was behind most racers, with some nearing the first turn already. He jsut smiled as he swiched to the 3rd gear. Soon they'll see what this car can do. The monster V16 revved under the hood and muffled all other sounds from outside as he began the race.

[Delta44]

The noises coming from the other cars' engines was becoming increasingly loud for Hex's taste. She didn't like the sound of any other car except her own - it scared her. So, to drown out the noise, she simply turned on the speakers inside her car as well.
The music was good. Now all she could hear was her car, her music, and her thoughts. Surprising considering how damn loud it currently was inside The Amplifier, though it helped her concentrate in a strange sense. She always used to street race in Sri Lanka with music playing - it made her feel like she was the only one driving. It made her feel... comfortable.

Take that music away, and Hex simply can not drive. She's no racer, at least not a good one.

But she had to try, both for the people back home and for herself. If she couldn't win the money, she could score a job, or sponsorship money she could send back to Sri Lanka, the gang and her parents.
Honestly, any money she could get would help. She just needed to show everyone what she could do...

---

The hum of the engine was soft, like a purr. It was easily distinguishable to most vehicles nowadays, since it sounded a lot more... advanced. The high-pitched squeak of a shifted gear against a soft, almost relaxing hum which could lull the teen to sleep in seconds provided there was no outside interference.
She tested the revs.
Slow, but steady, and powerful. She could sense exactly how it worked simply by touching the pedal! It was as though this car were some kind of mechanical soulmate; her partner in crime; her comrade, and friend.

"Delores!" A familiar voice called, knocking at the window. The young Lee girl smiled and wound down the window. "Hi, Bon~!" She chimed with an innocent smile - something rarely found among the "rabble" of Sri Lanka.
"You testin' out my ride?" The older man asked with a grin, poking his head inside. "Careful! Do you know how much it costs to repair this thing?"
Delores-Kent nodded excitedly. "Uh-huh! It's twelve thousand for the screen, thirty two thousand for the wheels and suspension, ninety thousand for the engine, two hundred and seventy thousand for the body, a lot for the speake- mmmph!" Hex was muffled into silence by Bon's hand covering her mouth, ensuring her silence.
"It was a figure of speech, shorty..." He muttered with a sigh. "Please try not to say those kinds of numbers out loud, OK? People get really scared when you talk about lots of dollar."
"'Kay!"

Bon was always going on about how special this stolen ride was. After all, it alone was worth more than what everyone combined earned in a year! Hell, even asking to use the speakers required exclusive permission and an ice-cream bribe to get him to consider it. As leader of the gang, he was given the spoils, though we all knew he'd put it to good use one way or another.
Nobody would've guessed it'd be for street racing and stirring up the cops.
Though simple, his idea and points were sound when he conducted the group meeting later that night.
"Basically, you get the cops attention in one area, and you steal from the other! I know it sounds simple, but if we do it right, just think about all the stuff we could do!" Bon spoke with sincere optimism. It was infectious, that look of determination he got when he had an idea. It always got the ball rolling when it came to getting something done. "We're going to put this baby to good use, get some cash by doing some legal and illegal things, understand? Remember, we're like the Republicans over in America, except not total assholes who crash the world's economy - we're bringing it back. We're the Red Robins, guys! We're steal from the rich n' give it to the poor!"

The crowd was built up to a climactic finale which brought several cheers from the audience, including the young Delores at the time. Bon was always such a charismatic fellow - a natural born leader, so to say. He was kind and caring, but fair and a great mentor. He made the Red Robins from the ground up, and always thought of new ideas to expand and grow, both in and out of the gang. Tall, handsome, tan-skinned and built like an Olympian, Bon was just about as great a guy could be, minus the illegal activities he promoted, despite their good intentions.
Oddly, very few people got to know Bon on a personal level. Except for his girlfriend Izzy, and Delores herself, as well as one or two others.
He was the reason she even got her nickname in the first place.
He was the reason she could drive at the Risk Rally GP.
He was the reason...

... that she was even alive...

---

Relaxing into her seat, Hex took a deep breath, clearing her mind of the past and looking ahead toward the future - the race.
'Don't worry, Bon... I'll get the money for everyone, and I won't kill myself in the process. I promise.'
She could feel the gentle purr of The Amplifier beneath her as the revs rose by the thousands, her grip on the wheel loosening.
'Relax, Hex... Relax.'

Staring across at her open laptop -- the source of all her music --, Hex took another look at the first section of the track. The very first corner was where she could make a good pass after building up some speed, and then slingshot out of the corner if she could find an opening. The other racers would likely need to slow down at least somewhat to make a turn like that. Hex could make it, though, if she was fast enough.

"Take a deep breath.
Deep breath.
Deep breath.
Deep breath."

The chant of the short chorus brought her mind back, and as the song from before started to make it's end, a new one took it's place, just as the announcers began to chat. Funnily enough, it happened to be one of Bon's old favourites... Maybe it would appeal to her American audience?

"Let's begin."

As the countdown began, Hex took her foot off the accelerator. The lights timed perfectly with the song's intro.

And on "GO!", she took off.

There was a sudden kick as her ride jolted forward, and quickly shot into the higher RPM ranges. Quick to shift her gears, the transition from first to second was both swift and smooth, which she was glad for. Her starts were the things she had the most trouble with as a racer, and this lucky one meant she would have a good run.
Probably.

Following the trend most racers were likely thinking by now, Hex took to the left side of the track semi-steadily, making sure to get a key position along the left-hand side of the track. With her tunes blaring and her head bobbing, Hex was in an element of her own on the track, though remained wary of the other drivers. She wanted to take this first lap or so to gauge everyone's racing style and get a feel for the track. After all, she was always horrible on the first lap.

Always.

'... Guess I'll need to drive better today...'

[CadenGallic]

Anastasia wriggled in her seat a little bit, her gloved fingers tightening in her grip upon the steering wheel, feeling a little heat inside of her suit even as the cooling system in her vehicle kicked in. She looked out onto the track, glancing upon the vehicles she'd be chasing. So many speed types, she noted, all built just for racing and little else. Funny, considering this competition would require something more than simple driving. Not in this case, of course, with weapons disallowed. This one was all about skill. And she knew she'd suffer for it. Her vehicle was not particularly fast, it was designed for transport across planetary bodies initially and that hadn't changed much even when she did her modifications. She was here to cross all terrain with her six wheels and hug the corners. That was how she'd make it through this initial stage.

She wasn't here to be popular, nor was she here to be especially liked. She was an outsider, someone foreign. Her vehicle alone stuck out like a sore thumb. She knew they'd be talking about their favorites like the masked fellow she chatted with, the man who was sniffing underwear and the girls who were showing more skin. She shouldn't have cared... but, a little part of her did. It was a little overbearing to come into a competition where you knew you were the dark horse, the one nobody will want to see again. That wasn't what she was here for... she was here for a higher calling. Even now, she couldn't help but glance up at the skies, thinking about it.

A view from space wasn't something you ever forgot. The sun rising over the curvature of the Earth, the clouds skating across that marvellous blue and green sphere she'd call home, able to see it all from the height of a god, in all its splendour. The stars sparkling and the crisp feeling of moon dust under your boot as you stepped down... that, was what she was racing for. To return to that wonderful view, to see it all at least one last time. To relieve that cosmic sense of tranquility and beauty... something she knew, was unique only to her in this competition. No-one else here could know that kind of vision, no-one could grasp what she had witnessed with her own two eyes. And she would see it all again. All she had to do, was outlast this competition.

The lights began to flicker, Anastasia felt her knuckles tighten even harder. Finally, they were bid to begin and she floored it right off the start, sending the Nova-5 rocketing forward as fast as it could go.

She watched the other cars rush past her, superior acceleration and superior speed. That was fine, she'd settle for near the back for the time being. She curved her car toward the right and hugged the wall closely, knowing their first turn wouldn't be too far off. Those with higher speed would need to slow down and swerve to take the turn, but with her six wheels and superior grip, this was where Anastasia could really grab some attention and show she was a serious contender. So for now, she settled, keeping her eyes peeled on the others in her pack. It wouldn't be long now.

[King Tai]

Jimmy was just finishing his black n mild as he tossed it out the window, noticing others were revving up their engines. Being surrounded by slimy motha fuckas, and fine but untrusting bitches, Jimmy was a bit chill after hearing there was no weapons allowed in this race, tch...like Jimmy gave a damn anyway. He placed one hand on the steering wheel still trying to look cool and not so anxious and uptight to get the race started like the others around him. Yeah, he was focused, but why not have a little fun while you're racing to live and make money.

Pulling out another cassette tape, he placed it in the cassette player as the red light came on. Popping his neck and pulling back out Cinnamon's leopard thong and hanging it like an ornament on his rear view mirror, Jimmy was ready...more than ever. This was for his brother as the red light went to yellow as his car was revving up. When the green light hit, his car's tires screeched, dashing off with two others who along with him started off with a good lead.
New Jack Hustler

Jimmy knew that some of competition would have fast cars that would give him trouble but he didn't expect two bitches with such acceleration. #13, Alex and #18, Moira. pressing the clutch and shifting gears swiftly and smoothly, Jimmy looked out the window noticing Alex getting a small lead as he noticed Moira able to stay with them both. Jimmy watched both ladies keeping speed with them as they were soon approaching the first right turn "If ya bitches end up in front of me, I don't care....I like hittin hos from the back anyway...I'll take both y'all chicks, ya dig? hehe!" he said in his car while the music was bumpin.

Jimmy stayed to the right of the track. As the right turn was coming, he knew this was going to be a tight turn but he was going to take his foot off the accelerator as soon as the turn would come so to not crash or spin out but also not to go too slow to easily give up his placement in the race.

[PatrickDrummer]

Riku was digging around in the passenger glove compartment looking for his special something. He found his knife and left that in their, a bunch of crumbled papers, a book, and finally his racing mix CD. He inserted the disc and tuned in to the different songs seeing which one would be good to start the race off with. Obviously it had to be something that was good at drowning out the noise from outside his vehicle, and of course he meant most of the other cars blasting their own music so others can hear.

Finding the right song was pretty hard because if he starts off with the wrong song then he just doesn't get in the right mindset. Especially with those announcers talking so loudly. Sure it was nice for them to at least talk about him, but he didn't know how to feel about being called a dark horse. It must have something to do with not being a fan favorite or the fact he has a very retro type of car. "Oh well... Now where was I?.. Oh yeah song... No.. Not it.. Maybe what's next?... This should do."

Ready, Set, Go!!!

"One, two, three, four..."

When the singer said four the race had started ironically, and racers were already far ahead. Riku was already ready and was shifting into second gear. He looked ahead and saw what other racers were doing and by the looks of it most went to the left side, but he decided to stay to the right side. Of course the turn was gonna be hard but Riku didn't take his foot off the gas he kept his car going the same speed. He attempted to do this because his car's grip was good enough that this should work, and worse case scenario he would slam into someone in the left lane during the turn. If he was able to pull the turn off without any problems then Riku would of course accelerate during the end to gain some speed and hopefully shift up to third gear.