[h2] [centre] Merged Guild down posts (needs a edit later) [/centre] [/h2] [hr] [b][h2][center]Joel Nicolosi[/center][/h2][/b] As the celebration faded, Joel saw Marlin approaching. He was darkly satisfied that he had been disciplined enough not to run his mouth until [i]after[/i] the race was over. Marinalia’s big mouth aunt had to eat it first, which was immensely gratifying. Seeing her sour look of dejection stoked a derelict flame of misguided happiness inside of him and he audibly laughed as she trounced away with the others to cry in her overpriced coffee cup. [i]Payback’s a bitch, bitch[/i]. He thought. He had a few more choice words for Captain Rental Car concerning the nature of winning. One could have also said she nearly lost twice, but he let it go. It didn’t matter if it was an inch or a mile, winning was winning. It was essentially the first rule of racing. That, and always beat your teammate. Joel was satisfied he covered that bit as well. [i]You won, though I’d of had you if the straight was a little longer…[/i] “I didn’t even have the pedal halfway down,” Joel said with a cocky smirk. He had something else that he [i]really[/i] wanted to say, but held his tongue. The timing wasn’t right. He leaned back against the car, remembering they still had a decent amount of work to do, though for now he was going to soak this one up. He watched her make a show of taking her hair down wondering if she thought she was the first woman to flick her hair at him. The scene felt like that moment they’d traded jabs at the Cargo office a few days ago. Beating her in the race aside, it seemed she was fairly interested, which hadn’t happened in a while, with anyone. The tension was evident. Several warring parties in his head vied for control of what was going to come out of his mouth next. However, her surprise peck on the cheek meant there was really no choice and the timing [i]was[/i] right. Before she could back away he gently reached and took her arm stopping her from pulling away so he could whisper in her ear, getting close enough to smell the scent of perfume combined with whatever shampoo she used and a touch of Av-gas. In the lightest of tones, barely audible above the gentle breeze over the tarmac.. he reminded her of her statement from earlier: [i]loser buys lunch[/i]. “I like my steak cooked medium-rare,” He said. “Probably a Guiness on the side, I’m gettin’ kinda hungry.” [b][i]Joel's Playlist #6 [/i][/b] [Youtube]https://youtu.be/GnKP6HtmyNs[/youtube] [@PrinceAlexus] [hr] [h2] [centre] [color=f6989d]Marinalia (Romus) Olympus[/color] [/centre] [/h2] [color=c4df9b][h3] [centre]Old Sol Airport race testing. Saturday Morning [/centre] [/h3] [/color] [hr] Marinalia watched Joel argue somewhat with her family, they managed to agree to agree to the sponsorship and the deal was agreed. It was down to the lawyers and managers to transfer the funds over and sort out the stuff behind the scenes and work out the paperwork, her job was to just race the plane and put on a good show for everyone. Though Joel, her family, there was a Gala event coming up for the race team and that was going to be fun if the kept up the tension and smaller arguments all evening. Sighing slightly at the thought of keeping bickering folks apart there always was a bar and as family, a free one because they were hosting the whole thing, Victoria was invited, Maria, Vesarian, Mike, and more. It was at least going to be a chance to catch up on things. Slightly suprised by the abrupt reaction to the kiss and rather direct manner of Joels response to it. There was a slightly rougher nature to him though the whole downtown guy and a uptown girl seemed to remind her of greese, though she had a cool leather jacket this time. Dinner, well lunch certainly was not a expensive price to pay for losing, though she was rather not hungry after ending the last run on 8.8G and high speed had turned her stomach off food for a few hours. Placing boot heal on the soft part of his foot above the toe cap, quietly replying. [color=f6989d][i] “And she,s my Aunt… so please leave it be. She a Trauma surgeon.I known where squishy bits are. Yeah right. Why was it so close then Team ground? “ [/i][/color] Resting her foot with a gentle pressure and shaking his hand off her arm with a gentle but firm movement and stepping back a little. He was not entirely in control, a slightly serious, part tease to her accent evident. [color=f6989d][i] “well Im still on clock for the flight back in afraid. You can come with us on helo and take my Land Rover and grab lunch, or take a rain check on lunch maybe mid week when I'm not on flight rota? The Co pilot is not allowed to fly solo yet, kinda doing my bosses a favour and trying to get em abit of practice in before the license test...everyone was a nugget once right. So. Your choice hotshot.“ [/i][/color] Handing over a her coffee recciet from her sugary concoction from a Sol Bucks in the airport, on the back a neatly written phone number in a looping handwriting. Sipping her coffee and finishing it off before shaking it to try and find some more and failing. [color=f6989d][i] “damn… tall one next time… “ [/i][/color] Standing back and giving her grandfathers raised eyebrow a wave, a eye roll would suit but the sunglasses obscured her eyes too well, the dark lenses hard to see through even in bright sunlight. Looking round the airport, the race car, planes and all that effort for one race. Blimey Tommey and Maxamillion sure where not exactly sparing expense this weekend. Maxamillion was happy with the course of events, tapping away a email on a surprisingly latest gen smart phone for his generation, hitting send and waiting for a buzz of conformation. [color=a2d39c][i] “Mr Lormax, you can expect payment on Monday… long as your driver does not talk me out of it… got it. Please, contact my PA if there's any problems. “[/i][/color] Adding last bit quietly at end so only Tommy could hear, he could appreciate Marla was definitely not always a play well with other type, but type or not daughters where daughters, and blood was worth more than gold. A certain stealy glint in his eyes, Maxamillion was two men, a family man who doted on his growing number of grandchildren and a Ceo in the boardroom making choices that cost millions in contracts, purchases and effected thousands of jobs directly and indirectly. Vesarian and Marla grabbed a coffee at the office, chatting casually about things and events back in England he had missed at sea. The life he enjoyed had its price, he missed his daughters, Maria, Marla. Despite a rocky time relations had rebuilt, though if anything came of the Gala, alcohol, and music who knew. The line between love and hate was rather thin. Only time would tell what happened. [hr] [@Pilatus] [hr]