[center][h1][b]Sunday 16th June, 2094 Silverstone, Northamptonshire, England 1700 GMT [/b][/h1][/center] [color=gold][center][h2][i][b]Outro to Silverstone[/b][/i][/h2][/center][/color] [img]https://res.cloudinary.com/hospitality-finder/images/w_1920,h_1281,c_scale/f_auto,q_auto/v1645458461/wordpress/Green-Room-F1-Silverstone-2021-FUSION-09007/Green-Room-F1-Silverstone-2021-FUSION-09007.jpg?_i=AA[/img] As the teams wrapped up, and the festival calmed down, Aurora stood with mic at ear, beaming to the audience. "Thank you for joining us in Silverstone, as I'm sure you saw, we had one hell of a race. Canada always provides a treat, and with Al-Saqr hunting down Southern Cross and Silver Apex, are we in for a three way title fight? Let's see, but for now, thank you for joining us, and have a lovely evening. Bye for now, and enjoy our outro!" [b]Soundtrack: [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fYpGHsSZXLE]London Grammar- Lose Your Head[/url] [/b] The race picks up with the bars opening, as the ships rattle off, and the fight comes into play. The crash between Cassie and Paul, the swearing, the bravery on show from Bea and the absolute pace of Kais darting through, making plays nobody else could dream of, dominating. His reaction, his joy cracking through all the pain, all of it, the dejection of Amy on finish and the grin from Han, up on podium for the first time. Lose your head? Not if you had something to give, because in the rain, the beaming sunshine, in everything Great Britain had to offer, this was what it was like to play at the finest margins, the montage cutting on the crowd screaming as Bea cut through Layla, Dorian and Cassie on the last lap, the crowd on their feet, individuals in it screaming, and the camera peeling back out, drawing back away from it all. [hr] And back to the factory the teams all went. For some, it was the shortest journey of the year when it came to the British pilots and teams, for others, plenty more distance needed covering. The vibes felt more tense than before, because it felt like marginal gains were coming into effect, and the teams were getting closer and closer behind Silver Apex. It felt like the pressure was climbing, and for each team, they were at the end of a sprint that lead into the summer break after Canada- an opportunity for non-critical staff and pilots alike to take a well deserved holiday, extremely rare outside of the week they got off at Christmas. Racing would calm down as other sporting events took the stage, like the 24 Hours of Le Mans, the Women's World Cup and 2094 Olympics in Nairobi, which were filling the sports void of many racing enthusiasts. One more race to get through, and the majority of the teams were now in full completion mode, trying to get final upgrades out before Canada, like a deadline at work, so they could enjoy their leave. While few substantial ones were left as a result, and sponsors themselves were pivoting to the summer of sport that was opening up in July, the teams certainly would be occupied. PR activities, like drifting at Brooklands for Bea and Paul, the further media invitations that Layla got talking about her changes on the Arabic Union's primetime evening television show, to Ava even being featured in an advert for a Chilean sports nutrition company were in full effect before those commitments would likely break away for their rest. The second half of the season was yet another marathon, and plenty was on the line. From the white rooms of Zygon's ship, where Cassie watched on as the team fiddled with the chassis more, to the forested greenery of Valkyrie's campus where Dorian took in the chirping of birdsong after a long session of the sim, each team geared up for a trip to the Maple Leaf having flag of Canada. [hr] [color=gold][center][h1][i][b] BLOOD//BONE//BORN [/b][/i][/h1][/center][/color] [img] https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/652421efe5b3c54e25a08b75/77c02b45-25ae-4112-8b18-d0e65edf2561/Pregnancy+Scans+Derry.png[/img] Black screen. The slow, mechanical pulse of a child's heartbeat begins. A soft hum of AG engines begins to rise, the whine following each. Florence narrates, a different voice to Aurora's but born from experience. [i]"It begins at the first pulse. Before you take your first breath."[/i] An amber pulse glows on a medical monitor. A 3D ultrascan twists into focus — a rotating image of a foetal form curled in utero, ripples of biometric data and coloured vitals dancing along the edges. The sound of a distant crowd swell fades in like a memory. [i]"Talent isn’t made. It’s encoded. Somewhere, in here… a pilot is born."[/i] Cut to sitting in a cot, staring up, looking at the wooden rotating carousel, a baby crying. It spins slowly — instead of animals, it holds tiny wooden AG ships and classic race cars. On a screen in the next room, the glow of a Formula AG race. The roar of the crowd seeps into the nursery. [i]"Sometimes, it starts with a sound. A blur. A dream."[/i] A lifetime's obsession with one thing and one thing only begins right here. [b]Soundtrack: [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l0i6jBM15Bg]Fatboy Slim- Right Here, Right Now[/url] [/b] And then getting into a kart, barely old enough to walk, but wanting nothing more than to try. First time, not so good. Second time, absolutely on it. The buzz dominates the sound, the feeling of your ribs, shoulders, arms, body being thrown around and shook so violently, yet wanting to go faster on every corner, apex, kerb and straight. [i]"It’s pain, precision, persistence. A thousand tiny failures carved into muscle memory. Synapses that no machine can replicate." [/i] Signing a rookie kart contract. Dad claps your back, trying to smile. You're already looking at the kart outside the window. Late nights at the kart tent. The sting of protein shakes and lactic acid. The first crash. The first win. The bruises. The screaming joy. The loneliness. [i]"You get knocked down. And you come back harder. Hungrier. You chase milliseconds. Inches. The perfect line. Your gauntlet to throw."[/i] The years pass by. And you're still there. Still addicted. Still obsessed, with your race suit, helmet and gear sitting there, unwashed, but always used, the computer still on from where you were on the latest version of Codemasters' AG racing sim. Coming home and messing around with the kart after hours in a marquee, dad looking across, even he looks bored. Going out in the rain and spinning, and going again, and again, finding the way to go faster and faster, dominating and lapping the field. And dad's smile seems to be ecstatic, picking you up with joy. The signing of a bit of paperwork, with a lot of adults around. Junior Formula next. Adolescence hitting hard. Schoolwork becoming irrelevant versus doodles of anti-gravity ships, cars, team gear. Reality hits when you realise quantum physics is still quite important in racing. [i]"The world narrows. School fades. Relationships blur. The goal sharpens. This is more than sport. It's everything you breathe. It's marginal gains, data points, honing your instincts, finding your perfection."[/i] And the work starts. Running, cycling on a rainy track, endless sim sessions, running more, throwing up, downing lots more electrolytes, and going further than you'd ever go. School starts to fade. This is the future. Everything you were hunting. Going from just a normal human being into an athlete. The scream of Formula cars, overtaking, getting overtaken nastily at the Hockenheimring, spinning out, and the feeling of gravel, sand, and the call in your ear right as you feel the car die. "You alright?" [i]"But you're not alone. They want it just as bad as you. Just as much."[/i] The return to the gym. Pumping iron, on the treadmill with a VO2 monitor in your throat, and a whole set of watching physiotherapists, who are looking at tablets and data. A doctor putting more paperwork in front of you. A gulp, and a signature. [i]"Your body can only go so far. So you made it better."[/i] Mum and dad are so proud. They saw you grow up, happy for your successes so far, but they sit with you at the table over food....and are in shock, dropping knives and forks when you tell them what you have planned. Looking in at the light above, and the light fading to black. Waking up in a hospital, blinking and realising.....you're more than human when you roll off the bed, and put what are a metallic clack to the tiled floor. You have eyes that can spot a Silver Apex logo in the crowd from half a mile away, because when you look outside the window you're able to focus and then back better than anyone. Carbon legs and arms on your bare body, fused in, a heart that feels like it's able to make you run like nothing, muscles in your core that are fused with biochemical stimulant, and a new prescription to ease you in. You look in the mirror, and what you see is far more than what you were before. This was what you were lacking. This is what you needed. [i]"You push yourself beyond your limits. Become superhuman."[/i] Inside the canopy, helmet on with your increasingly sponsored race suit, you touch your neck, and you have a soft pad, where your brainstem interfaced with a neural link that when hooked into the ship, makes you feel like it wraps you inside when you do it for the first time. It feels like you dive into a portal, and come out the other end transformed. You FEEL the sidepods sucking air, the weight, the control up close. This is a bond like blood, pulsing faster and faster in you. [i]"And when you link into that ship... it’s like coming home. Every vibration, every lift, every gust of air— you feel it. The ship isn’t a machine. It’s a bloodstream, and it screams as much as you do."[/i] In a Junior Formula AG ship, roaring through Montreal, finding that extra something through the Wall of Champions, holding pace past your team-mate. Feeling alive. No wheels, or tyres. This is anti-gravity racing, and the corners come faster and faster, fading into a blur... And repeating. Again, and again. From sparks from contact at Spa, to media appearances, this is the life. Dominance, beating your championship rival, drinking beers with the team in hospitality in a small pit, finding romance with a model who caught your eye back in Monaco, holding a hand out and leading them up onto the balcony of the small Junior AG team's stairwell, sharing a kiss before being pulled into yet another meeting. The fight with your team-mate, arguing over qualifying, getting a telling off from the Principal, and still, going out there again, winning, and spending another late night with the analysts before getting thrown into a pool. [i]"This is the rhythm of life at 500 kilometers an hour. Where the seconds are endless, and history waits at every apex."[/i] And back to reality. More gym work, this time, you're basically running faster than most people could cycle. And cycling faster than most people could drive in town. Your heart echoes in your head, the rain, the wind, anything, none of it stops you, because despite dealing with technical mishaps, you're looking in the mirror at someone who just seems to be superpowered. In the simulator, you find you are destroying whatever you were before, lap times falling, new strategies forming, new bits coming through. The small pits give way to big ones. The small time engagements in school are gone. You're an adult now. Barely legal to drink, but a prodigy. Another late flight. A check into a hotel, on your own, and passing out on the bed because no amount of caffeine is keeping you awake. And waking up, in the pit, sitting with analysts, going through data, standing in front of cameras, constantly in the view of the media, the fans that want autographs, the press conferences, the meetings, the evenings with mechanics and pit crews, the feeling that this is all coming to a head. Dealing with young love, the relationship always getting questions, and struggling to make the time because it's all coming to this. The pressure, your blood pulsing through you, your brain unable to handle it, and resetting the sim once again. And then it turning to reality. Everything you've done has led you here. The breathing, the grip, the touch, it all feels like it was made for now. And you remember how long this road has been. And how you're going to end this, on the track. [i]"History that's yours to make."[/i] Heart-pounding, mind altering, synapse pulsing, aggression, flow, G-forces, and finding a way through. And taking the title, coming out of the corridor onto the podium. The glory, the victory, trophy held high, champagne spraying, fist pumping, and hand raised high, as you feel alive. And then seeing the sight of a nod in the crowd. [i]"But there's always another step. You climb the foodchain, and you want to grow."[/i] Cut to what looks like a white-room, and a ship cradled against a metal frame, what looks like a Fitzroy Orbital ship, of all things. Maybe not the start you were looking for. But oddly, and given all the rumours, it seems hilariously fitting. "Ready?" The voice asks as the technician points to the ship, and you realise this is a bit more space age than even what you believed before. This is something even more incredible. The feeling as the canopy opens, and as the ship unlatches from the metal rack, clambering up the step on the side, sitting in, and exhaling hard. Garage doors hiss open. A roar explodes from outside — fans scream. The camera detaches from your view, soaring skyward as it reveals the Circuit Gilles Villeneuve nestled against the St. Lawrence River, towers rising into the clouds. [i]"This is Formula AG."[/i] "Radio check?" The voice in your ear crackles, as you barely think it and the ship goes out, to the screaming voices of Montreal, the view picking up the ship, and the team in the background, drawing back and peeling away, nestling one of the best racing circuits in the world. Welcome to the life. [hr] [hr] [color=gold][center][h1][i][b]DELTΔ HYPER[/b][/i][/h1][/center][/color] [color=gold][center][h2][i][b]Episode Nine: The Wall of Champions[/b][/i][/h2][/center][/color] [hr] [center][h1][b]Friday June 30th, 2094 Circuit Gilles Villeneuve, Montréal, Canada (Federated American States) 1000 GMT [/b][/h1][/center] [color=gold][center][h2][i][b]La Sauce[/b][/i][/h2][/center][/color] The intro felt a little bit flat compared to maybe the history gush of Japan and Britain, the beauty of Italy, the sheer wonder of Luna, the Bond-esque feeling of Monaco, or the absolute onslaught that was New Zealand. But, after that, an overview of the circuit followed, and cut back into the main paddock building, and the teams preparing for the weekend. As usual, a shift to the Delta Hyper couch being on a rooftop of the paddock building of the circuit, normally exposed to sunlight but this time around, covered with a white marquee, the view in the background left open of Montreal's skyscrapers, the city booming given the migration north out of the dustbowls of the Great Plains and Mid-West twenty years ago. Ramshackle neighborhoods had turned into highly dense, urban neighbourhoods, that added a technological feel to the historic core that felt distinctly French. [b]"Beatrix, Ava welcome to Canada!"[/b] Aurora beamed, as the sofa felt a little bit odd, given the location was right by a kitchen. Bit strange, why on earth were they in a catering tent on top of the paddock? And also, why on earth did it look like someone had been in here before? [b]"Kais, Layla, would you like to open the envelope and show it to the audience?"[/b] And with it, Aurora covered off the question that they would likely be having internally as they read, skimming to Paul and Dorian, in their version of the edit. [b]"Paul, Dorian, we did check your dietary requirements, and we hope this hasn't come up before!"[/b] Aurora beamed, as the edit cut to the Carrera couple. Ava looked to Bea, shaking her head, giggling. "They want us to make poutine! Okay, I knew it was going to be Canadian themed, but come on!" Ava chuckled, showing the card to the camera, the scene cutting. [b]*Make a bowl of delicious poutine, and use the ingredients in front of you to put your own spin on it.*[/b] Layla had the same, licking her lips. "Yum! Okay....I mean, this is why I don't have an artificial stomach, though I know Dorian is going to be so pissed....." Dorian was read correctly by Layla. As in, his stomach growled at the very concept of putting gravy onto chips and curded cheese. "****ing Canadians! They put gravy and lumps of cheese on frites? Okay, Paul, you're Belgian so you're weird when it comes to frites, so I know this will be fine for you but....come on! My mother would be screaming! You cannot make Frites pour Francais and just.....argh!" Dorian made even Aurora laugh, as it was clear Dorian had a firm view on this from what was an extremely biased French culinary palette, giving Paul a shove in a joking manner. [b]"Well, we've got you here. We've got the fries all cut up for you, but it's up to you to make the gravy and the cheese curds from what we've provided, and add anything else you think tastes good from the ingredients on the table. Though don't look at that maple syrup....that is for another interview. And just to add to the spice....check the text at the bottom."[/b] Aurora left that there, knowing it was almost certain that one of the pilots would be insane enough to pour it in. She had an internal bet with the production staff on who that would be, and sat there, almost as if she was entertained by this whole process, but a whole range of other ingredients were left there too. After all, it wasn't just a normal Poutine, but a chance to make something a little more....weird. "Wait, other teams are trying our food? Are you actually insane? Putain de merde!" Dorian asked, as Aurora giggled, nodding. [b]"Carrera's is trying Al-Saqr's, Al Saqr's is giving Valkyrie's a go, and Valkyrie's trying Carrera's....you have 30 minutes, best of luck!" [/b] And well, what was likely to be one of the stickiest situations in Delta Hyper's interviews so far began. As the cameras were left to roll, and cut between the groups of pilots, who no doubt, were about to make free content in how they worked, or didn't work together, it would reveal how they were under the pressure of not driving, but making something that was about to either be an affront to God (and basically the entire province of Quebec), or mastery. Layla's tech focus was actually challenged here, Dorian was just having to deal with the concept of fries coming with what was treacle-like beef stock, and Ava, used to the more typically Latino style of cooking, was now making something that looked like it belonged in a hipster food truck. For a moment, the tense constructors fight began to go, because the two pilots, used to rigorous amounts of media training, answering questions on pace and speed, were now thrown into something that no amount of their upbringing would likely elicit. And of course, every viewer at home was here for it. [hr] [center][h1][b]Friday June 30th, 2094 Circuit Gilles Villeneuve, Montréal, Canada (Federated American States) 1500 GMT [/b][/h1][/center] [color=gold][center][h2][i][b]Post-Practice: Canada[/b][/i][/h2][/center][/color] [img]https://gpticketstore.vshcdn.net/uploads/images/6906/circuit-gv.jpg[/img] [b]Soundtrack: [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fYpGHsSZXLE]Metrik (feat GUNSHIP)- Electric Echo[/url] [/b] Practice was a simple affair, as ships came back in, after a session in what was heatwave weather. It was absolutely boiling in Montreal- the middle of summer bringing temps up to 39C, making it feel searing, making air con in the paddock, and cooling systems in the ships work overtime, shade, sunscreen and water a necessity to avoid getting burnt. The smell of Junior AG ships qualifying, right before a massive rainstorm was on the horizon occupied the circuit visitors, because as soon as it was done, they were running for cover. Speaking of being under a cover, inside the Delta Hyper booth, the various pilots filtered in... "Not where we want to be. The ship is good, but we just lack the absolute stability I was hoping for." Harrison noted, the circuit incredibly tight and fast, benefitting the ship's pace and superior handling, but being low in stability, making it an absolute bronco to manage. "Well, the ship is on rails. I want to smash the lap record this weekend, and I think I've got the tool for the job." Amy beamed, shrugging off other comments. "Top level racing is harder as you get older....but nothing replaces the experience and I love Montreal. A demanding circuit, it has speed, corners that push and it's a joy to get right." Dorian replied, feeling good here, the Valkyrie ship back to its strength on a circuit like this. "Yeah, well it's our home race! And the fans are right behind us, so I'm so proud to represent MMR here!" Wedge called out with the crowd whooping in response, giving the home team the vibes they wanted. "Honestly, a poor session from me and Vlad, but we'll come back in qualifying. We're still learning the ship, but it is what it is!" Kofi shrugged, a little down more than usual, but, he had to speak his mind on this one. "I wish you'd stop asking questions like that! Right now I am contracted to race for Fitzroy Orbital AG, so I guess that is where all my energy is, though it's always nice to be recognised!" Jenny blushed, brushing the question off, but handling it diplomatically as she could.