[color=gold][center][h2][i][b]Foreshadowing[/b][/i][/h2][/center][/color] Sitting in the interview room. Peter Thatcher, polo shirt as ever, legs crossed over, was centre of frame. "Did you expect what happened next on race day?" Aurora asked a simple, yet straight to the point question. Editing had played one hell of a blinder here. "Hah. Rushing to the airport after wasn't in the plan. I guess you're here for drama. In my years....haven't seen a right balls up like that." Peter replied in his sarcastic, laconic style of plain Irish speaking. [hr] [center] [h1][b] Race Day Sunday 1st October, 2094 Autodromo de Buenos Aires, Argentina 1730 ART [/b] [/h1] [/center] [color=gold][center][h2][i][b]The Sharp Edge of Carbon[/b][/i][/h2][/center][/color] [b]Soundtrack: [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lfTt5uWRkgg]Metrik- Fall To The Dust[/url] [/b] All ships sat on track, the crowd to capacity, and the sun beginning to come down, the race's end set to time with the sunset. The floodlights were on, the horizon was a hazy gold, the track's design thankfully meaning that the sunset wouldn't blind or overwhelm the ships on track. "Well, we're watching the ships get ready, final checks take place, and the fans go wild with noise since at least two hours ago, two pilots in particular represented in the crowd. Rosie, it seems like a right mix up in qualifying. Argentina rewards ships and pilots that are smooth, can Carrera make it work here?" Rory asked, as Rosie chirped up, the VT cutting to them both gearing up and clambering into their ships on the grid. "Well, up until now, we know that Ava Villarosa and Beatrix Ward were inseparable, always in socials together. The divide that has hung like a rumour since Singapore has been never louder than. They're both together in P3 and P4, and with the crowd going wild for those two in particular, already dozens of flares having to be caught out, they are going to be favourites in every corner. Tensions are high, but they both thrive on that. Anything can happen, Beatrix is unpredictable and has a ship that was inching away from first, while Ava is likely to be catching up in her team-mate's confidence." "And what about Lowry, do you think she has what it takes to convert that pole into a win today?" "Well, that Silver Apex ship seems so inconsistent between the two pilots, but it's clear Jenny isn't making the same mistakes that Hart did earlier in the season. She's clearly adapted, moved into those new mods like a duck to water, and is proving her performance in the old Fitzroy ship isn't a fluke. Is today finally the moment she converts it? We'll have to see." "Certainly, with her team-mate's less than stellar qualifying, Peter Thatcher will be hoping for a result. Talk about Paul Mulder too, well, that adds something to the mix. With him up in P2? What a story he has had, finding his feet after a shaky few races. Some say that he just found something, and it's clearly he's much happier taking more risks. His father's style always blended flair with absolute precision. "Well, given the story of Valkyrie, I think they are finally beginning to find roots in a pilot that much of the grid were scouting. Next to Beatrix Ward, I wonder how they will fight it out....and the marshalls are away, okay, looks like the start sequence is ready. You're watching the Argentine AGP, and myself, Rosie Appleyard and Rory Andrews. We welcome you to what will certainly be. With one of the most advanced tracks on the grid, with the skyline of one of South America's biggest cities in the background, we are at the home of Carrera Condor, and the crowd are roaring for two pilots in particular. Who will take the win? Stay tuned, as we prepare to go green...." [hr] [center][h2][i][b]Ava Villarosa[/b][/i][/h2][/center] [b]Four. Three. Two. One. [/b] The start was chaotic. Ava took Bea early on, upsetting the rematch of Paul and Bea fairly fast, as Bea managed to follow in Ava's wake, the two actually managing to get Paul on Lap 1, then Jen on Lap 2, exploiting an error that put Paul right behind the Carrera couple. Paul's start hadn't been stellar, but he was making it up. A dream start, literally, you could not write better. But Ava was in P1. And lap after lap going by, this was something new. She could actually hear the crowd outside the ship. For the first time ever, she was in a position to actually do something that nobody else could have dreamed of at the end of the season. Like a British pilot winning at Silverstone, or Paul at Spa, this was a screaming pitch that seemed to shake the glass of the banking more than the ship's latchings did. "Ava, defences off and set to neural on ELS, Bea will be in a good spot to keep Mulder off us, copy?" Rey's voice came through, deflating that hope. "Negative, she's suckering off me, she's going for a pass, not hold! This early on, we're going to burn up time fighting each other!" Ava replied, straight to Rey with that answer. "Ava, Bea is faster than you in Sector 3..." "Understood, because she's trying to fucking leech energy off me! Tell her to stop and point it backwards before Mulder and Lowry get us, stealing it from me is gonna cost us! Mierda, make a decision!" "Copy, Ava. We'll look into it." Rey added, the gap of silence too long as Ava filled it going through the Start Straight again, seeing Bea come closer and closer, but losing time at the first complex. "Well, she's losing time out of Turns 1 and 2 trying to snatch ELS, I need her to focus on defending behind me, not stealing from me, we are both going to lose time if we don't! If she has the pace, she needs to exceed my times outside ELS deltas, like we agreed, how many times to I have to say it!" "Understood, we will ask." Rey turned to Alonso, chatting to him, the response coming from the Spaniard TP as he overrode Rey and Alistair. "Beatrix, we need you to hold off ELS leech from Ava and go into neural, build up charge, let's build a full battery before we do anything. We can talk about overtakes, but you need to be patient and we need to time this, priority is holding back Mulder. Let's play fair, we'll make a switch when needed. We need to protect this advantage, confirm?" Alonso butted in past Alistair, overriding, switching to Ava's line. "Ava, we're going to switch you in two laps if you cannot improve the gap, stay in attack. When ordered, switch to neutral and allow pass. Confirm?" The message went unanswered. Ava's pace pricked up. Not for one lap, or two, but for another five. She was dumping more ELS as if to spite Alonso, and Bea, in full attack. To say "I'm not giving this up". A point because she was in lead, she'd hold, and Bea would have to put the pieces together. Bea in the moment would see it as total, complete bullshit. Ava was just doing what she considered needed to break away, the pace would sort itself out, and Bea would have to follow Ava's choice of strategy. This wasn't normal Ava, the strategic, careful, concise. This was her deciding to make a principled point. She wasn't being told to let someone go, she was taking her initiative this time, and was forcing Bea to fight Paul for longer than both would have wanted. It would have been dicey, both would have been tense enough....Ava had effectively left her team-mate in the shit. Yet one small mistake out of Turn 6 from Ava later after making a decent dent into that gap and absolutely screwing Bea, suddenly, they were all three batched extremely close. This would have probably been the point to switch them, Rey waiting for the straight as Alonso gestured at the display in the pit wall. Bea had the pace, but was wasting her time fighting with Paul. But Ava hadn't heard the order yet. Bea hadn't either. Paul must have sat there wondering why the hell he was stuck in traffic, between what should have been an incredibly simple decision to keep the Belgian lion away. Ava and Bea led, with Paul right behind, Jenny right behind him. It was a fight Carrera could win, but they had to play chess, and make a decision. Someone had to come second. Someone had to drop back and defend, using ELS to leech and force both Southern Cross's and Silver Apex's strategy teams into deciding if they were going to send, or keep behind. A 1st place and 2nd/3rd were not to be scoffed at, not when Zygon was competitive here- ensuring one of them could run away and win and the points haul would close the gap to Zygon at what was in theory, one of their better tracks. And in Argentina? That would be bliss. In that livery too, that blue and white flag replacing the black among the rainbow making for a real homage to the new Latin world. But who would want to give up the ultimate race for an underdog team, their factory in view? The argument, and breakage in the team to reinforce their mindsets had gone the other way. Instead of driving the pilots forwards, in the moment they needed to work together, they weren't interested. Ava didn't feel inclined to give up. There was blood because for the first time, Ava had the chance to make history. A Latin American winning in Argentina, that would be spectacular. The crowd absolutely were going haywire, massive Chilean flags in grandstands reaffirming that point. The Huasa, the former Ace turned cold pilot was never tested by first place. She had her strategy, and she was sticking to it. Yet Bea had made the unfortunate mistake of making a different kind of push, acting on impulse from Ava taking a wider line. It was a rushed move in Turn 5, at full tilt, Ava partly to blame for holding too broad a line, Bea partly to blame for forcing the issue. Misinterpretation would be the common way of looking at it. Not through their lenses. If you were eating popcorn, right now you'd choke. The two ships clattered, and flung off the track and into repulsors, Bea's ship in particular fluttering twice over into the top bank and barely missing a massive crash with Paul, anchoring itself into one of the arrays, Ava's going low and in front of a spectator stand, skidding to a halt in the magnetic-enabled runoff area. Immediate red flag. The crowd, screaming and cheering, went dead silent. What words were there? Ava peeled out of the canopy, seeing Bea, so angry, so livid, so unbelievably pissed, every sinew in her body had to have her pull away once she'd seen Bea was pulling her own canopy open. Not to do anything stupid. The noise was white, almost feint, like she'd been concussed, but instead, it was just the withdrawal of every single feeling she could manifest in her prefrontal cortex dumping out of her like a brick from a skyscraper. A medic came across but Ava kept walking, pushing them away. Just kept going, refusing anything. Helmet in hands, teeth grinding, forehead and cheeks pale like blood sucked out of them and away. By the time she was in the pit box, having walked the entire way, the white, blue and red helmet was out of her hands and hurled into a screen, no words leaving Ava bar an incomprehensible shriek. And tears pouring like a fountain in a way that.....for far to long, hadn't. She hadn't cried since she hurt like hell in physical training with her new prosthetic legs. Everything else was a footnote. But this broke, tortured, and grafted her. There was a fighter pilot who was surgical, who would have forgiven, who would have let go. But even Leon's voice didn't stop her. She just didn't want to fucking exist. Not here. She knew she'd fucked up. But so had everything else. The crowd didn't know how to react. They weren't sure what to even do. It was like watching Argentina get hit 5-0 in football. Tears, dejection, almost like they'd all felt Ava's out of body hurt. They weren't even angry. They were just lost. [hr] [color=gold][center][h2][i][b]Retaking Ground[/b][/i][/h2][/center][/color] Back again. Jenny took a strong sip of electrolyte, before the canopy snapped shut again, all systems active, no damage beyond scratches of carbon from the Carrera Ships leaving a streak of white and blue along one of the sides of the ship. Four. Three. Two. One. It was fast. Instant, the jolt in the back of the seat, but Cal had come up with a firm strategy for Jen to use, and made no bones about it. With all this tension, it was time to push, and push hard. Make a statement. Jenny got back ahead of Paul at the race restart, taking advantage of his perhaps willingness to calm it down after that massive hit, to just scoop forwards. And she didn't leave his front view, staying a second ahead but never being caught up, expertly keeping ELS on to not make the same mistake Nora did in Singapore, her game much simpler. Further back, the grid shuffled as a few other ships crashed out, including Kovalenko (through an error out of the last chicane), and Wedgewood suffering an engine fault in the dying laps of the race, retiring the ship rather than risk any further damage. "We're holding nice, let's keep here." Cal called into Jenny's ears, as she zipped through that last chicane, one more lap to go. Paul had put pressure on. But she knew how to put the ship to block, and remain consistently up where it mattered, and in a counter to any strategy the Belgian had. Lap after lap had come, but in an anti-climactic way, where she'd started was where she ended. With the chequered flag, Jenny grinned. "Holy crap! That was amazing! Wow! Thank you for your trust, support, P1 is just mad! Cannot believe it" Jen absolutely beamed, hands up in air, the crowd going mild, throughly whelmed as their adrenaline had zapped out in the boring second half of the race and watching a British pilot win. Some did cheer though acknowledging it, but the tears of joy Jen had were contrasted with the facepaint being turned to black on most Carrera fans. At least it wasn't Stirling. If it was, they would have probably started a riot. The ones that had decided to, thanks to the enhanced security presence, were removed fast and the crowd control felt more and more like a tar keg that was being doused in water. A lot of people left fast. The circuit had ran out of booze. Cry for me, Argentina, it felt like Carrera had said. But Jen was on cloud nine. Every loss meant a win somewhere else, and well, she had gotten her first. "Well done, Jenny, that was a showstopper, and P1! Well done, bring it on home!" Cal replied, finally having something to cheer for. "Jenny, that was stellar. Kept a firm control of that race, even when things didn't go right, you stayed calm and that's proper professionalism that. Great work. Drink it in, well deserved, Jenny Lowry, first place, first of many!" Peter's voice overrode, as Jenny giggled with laughter, taking this insane moment in, her emotions all over the shop, but for now, living in a moment any child would have dreamt of being in. Under floodlights at Buenos Aires, winning a race in Formula AG. She had as many wins now as Bea did.... "Yeah!! Woo!" Jen yelled, unrestrained in how happy she was, the Silver Apex crew chanting her name as she pulled into the box and mobbing her as Paul and Nora joined her. [url=https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1qF6cn-eA0G0sumgf79TvEnPjOHyQP-vZSFV6LNrn_OY/edit?usp=sharing]Race Results for Argentina[/url] [hr] [color=gold][center][h2][i][b]Cooldown Room- Argentina[/b][/i][/h2][/center][/color] The room felt weird. Jenny had actually won, and her face was jubilant, and Paul was no doubt exhausted. "Nicely done Paul. Not today, but you duel well." Jen smiled, looking back at their fight in the first half of the race, impressed with Paul's racecraft, clearly having learnt the lessons from Silverstone, aggressive yet not pushing past into insanity. "Christ. Big hit Bea....what were you thinking?" Jenny asked out loud, as Nora shook her head, the incident being replayed on the display. "Blue on blue. Didn't think I'd see it." Nora chuckled, unfolding her legs, the standings appearing on another screen next to the race highlights reel. "Gonna get ya, Amy..." Nora muttered, as Jen saw the stewards come in, and with it, she let Nora, then Paul take the lead, before stepping out herself and running onto the top step. An entire season of utter bullshit with Fitzroy last year. Then the mess in the first half. The P3 that was a miracle. And now this. They said fairytales weren't written. But her best friend crashing into her team-mate, to basically give her P1? It was unfortunate, but Jen did not hold back her smile, because she'd finally made it. And matched Bea now, but felt like while it may have been more of a fluke, this wasn't the last time she'd be up here. She had a taste for blood. She was coming back for more, her smile toothy as God Save the Queen played, and then champagne flew between her, Nora and Paul. [hr] [color=gold][center][h2][i][b]Delta Hyper- Interviews[/b][/i][/h2][/center][/color] Aurora was once again in the booth, back with both Bea, then Paul, among the many other interviews. The sound of thunder could be heard, as if there couldn't be any less of a cinematic feel to match the mood at the circuit, the local media cycle going insane behind the scenes in ripping Bea and Ava apart. And obviously, posting anti-British propaganda about Silver Apex. Like usual. [b]"Bea, an awful result for you and the team, possibly your worst nightmare. We'll keep it brief- any words for the crowd?" "Paul, what a thrilling race! What are your thoughts on the Carrera Condor incident? It looks like you just didn't have the spring back on Jenny after the restart, but it looks like you're continuing a rich vein in form, what in particular do you think has pushed you forwards?"[/b] [hr] "Yeah, well things happen when team-mates don't talk. I guess I've been on both ends. Ava had priority there in the lead, but sometimes you have to listen, and realise you're gonna need to give and take. Teams win races by working together. I'm sure that they'll internally review it." Florence commented, her poor result not the focus, but the shitshow that was Carrera. "Rivals? Yeah, people are chalking me and Paul up! But I'm still keeping my eyes on the top spot. It lucked out for me, but honestly, once I sowed up the move on Amy, I knew anything could be on. " Nora came out and grinned, as Harrison followed. "What's it I'd say....sh*tshow? But what can I say, gave it our all today. Massive result for Nora today, I tell you, she is unstoppable and making me up my game! I'll need to keep my eyes forward." Hamid grinned, a Riccardo-esque look from the short-haired, pale white maybe finding his luck. "That, that was so much fun! I mean sure, Cassie was a monster, but fighting with her was cool, so much respect! And overtaking Stirling! Yalla, I am pinching myself, what a rush!" Hamid looked like he had swallowed all of the sugar, because this rookie on a modern circuit, where Kais's style had maybe not come to fore (one perhaps later for speed circuits), had made it pay. Cassie was happy too. "Seriously result for Zygon today. The incident with Bea Ward and Ava is uhhh.....well, I know from personal experience what it's like when a team struggles. Amy had some issues, then what happened, yeah, I got lucky for sure but I made that luck!" Cassie retorted, smiling for once. "It was not the best from me, but on MAG tracks, I will be honest as I'm not coming back to many more- I am not a specialist! That was why I was so surprised in Hawaii, non? But yes, great result from the team, Paul is special. He is living up to his standards. And any doubters, put some respect on our chief, I couldn't be prouder of our progress this season. I'm going to give it everything for the rest, I'm feeling motivated, and while the rookies are proving exceptional, I feel I'm going out on a high. Maybe I'll interview people like you next year, Aurora?" Dorian beamed, uncharacteristically upbeat, despite what was a middling result. The honesty started to trickle out of him, perhaps realising if he could help Paul, big him up, get public, he'd feel that too. Astrid grinned. It was unusually colourful of her. Was she already on the gin? "A point! We got a point!" She was taking this one for all it was worth. One closer to MMR!" Max was the opposite. "Ship just gave out, such a pain. We've had a great ELS setup, thanks to Ulrich, but just couldn't make it play. And man, the crazy shit ahead from Carrera...." Amy had to be careful, her poor result due to a poor start and getting absolutely rinsed on ELS by Cassie and Hamid, the ship not setup for "traffic" given Amy's assumption she'd put it on pole- meaning she hadn't gone as well. She was lucky Bea and Ava crashed to get anything. "It's tough. I mean, I know Bea quite well, she's ambitious and she wouldn't give up a position if she doesn't think she can get it. Looking at the review, I think she's right to do it. Team-mates are just like anyone else on track, in the heat of the moment, and while engineers might have the strategy in front of them, we have to do with what's in front of us and follow instinct. Sometimes it doesn't work. Sometimes it wins you championships." Arrogant? A little. But Amy had won two.... Ben was unusually media trained, but his energy still came out. "Nearly a point! I mean, yeah, it's a hard ship, and we have a lot of development. I suppose it's about finding flow, consistency, and we'll punch into points." Ava sighed, the interview question coming out. Her minder was next to her, as Ava didn't need to glance before giving a legally audited answer. "I won't be able to comment on the matter." [hr] [color=gold][center][h2][i][b]Braking Point[/b][/i][/h2][/center][/color] The lock went on the door of the conference room as the figure walked in, Leon interrupted, and Pablo Asturia silencing everyone, all techs, both pilots, and the TP. Pablo arrived mid session of Alonso no doubt debriefing and dressing down the team. But Alonso's comments had absolutely nothing on Pablo. Nothing on someone who picked a specific day to come here. Staked the entire team on this. Felt the weight of media and his phone still buzzing in his pocket, which was now constant, as if he made a statement to the team by putting it on the table, revealing the constant, non stop barrage of messages. Alonso had been smart enough to shield the team. Found Ava heaving with tears in her room, just in total, broken disbelief over what she'd done to Bea, to her fans, to her chance. Pablo collandered all of that hate, all of that feeling, because now, was about to give an executive bollocking. If Paul had felt a wobble in mental health, this was throwing a brick into a washing machine. One that Leon hadn't communicated. One that put across the feeling of how on the edge it all was. "What the fuck was that?" Pablo didn't address Ava or Bea. Just seemed to be direct at Alonso. For now. "Seriously? At home, after all this work we did, everything together? We threw away a prime position to put those Korean fuckers to the sword, in front of our home audience, our one fucking chance! Every spotlight in the world is on us, and we respond with this? The one race where Silver Apex cannot fucking win!" Pablo threw a water bottle he was carrying and it ricocheted off the desk. "This is unacceptable!" He yelled, hell hath no fury like the billionaire who could have accepted a crash, a mechanical, even dropping back in points, but a double DNF caused by a pair of team-mates crashing into one another? Who had just had a biblical argument? Well, that was just as bad as it could be. If ever the roll had decided to laugh, it was right here. "And both of you, do I need to fucking remind you what is at stake?" Pablo walked around to the pilots, hand out to any protests. "An entire fucking continent wants to crucify you, burn every fucking hope they had that you were [b]their[/b] pilots, their dreams you'd actually fucking give them something to cheer for after half a decade of work, so give me a reason not to put you on that cross first?! Find some fucking pilots that work together?" Pablo didn't decrease volume. He seemed to go up, now getting personal. "Ava, you know better. Want to prove a point? Good, you just fucking proved you can't handle the pressure, rather than fucking leading this team, you put your pride first! Play back the comms, tell me you couldn't accept conceding the position! Oh, and Bea, your contract's ink may barely be dry, but you behave like a fucking child! Couldn't be patient, and forced a move there, fucking up our best result yet? Her I expect better from, but you can go toe to toe with Paul Mulder yet can't wait for your own teammate?" "Hey, fuck you! The team didn't make a decision. I don't want to hear..." Ava's interruption, got interrupted by Pablo, who even despite not sitting in a ship, wasn't taking prisoners. "No, you're not done hearing it! There's tens of juniors waiting for your chance, and you both committed to fucking this race up, for everyone! Everyone behind you! Burying your head in the sand solves nothing. We're protecting you from the press, because if we get this wrong, more than the lab goes up in flames! So I'm through with hearing bullshit, excuses, arguments, all of the entire time in the lead up, all the rumours....now this? Constant lies. When what matters is today, we had the best opportunity to put Zygon's teeth out of jaw, from a position we could have matched them! The gap is widening. All of you. Let that in when you think about what missing an opportunity today means. They did not win. We, we, fucking, lost." Pablo nearly spat as he called it out, as he saw it, the passion raw now given he'd started taking far more investment into the team. "If this happens again, our funding dries up from sponsors, deals, promises we can make to make this team the best in the world. We run out of chassis to provide you, given between the two of you, and engineering faults, enough have been written off....and if FIAR slaps us with points deductions for it, we are over. A lot of people in that factory we hired specifically to get you both there, will not be needed because we cannot settle for where we came from. We cannot fuck this up. Not when the consortium is risking everything on you all to deliver what you have already proven you can do. I'm asking for nothing more than your high standards. Not. This." Pablo reiterated, making it clear that even though eh saw this through a money lens, he absolutely understood the wider implications. "We're dependent on a solid end to our season, or else there won't be a team that'll compete next year if there isn't momentum. Felix is here because we are moving next year's ship forwards, and have a one in a generation opportunity to do so. Leon will tell you that's where the majority of the investment went. So if you don't like working together, take up contracts elsewhere in lesser teams, act your standard. Because no big team will accept you, not when the market for pilots and engineers is closed. Or, prove everyone wrong, and step the fuck up, here. If we want to win titles, we cannot compete like any other team. We must work together. We are Carrera. We run this continent. We are going to go to Brasil, and do better. We, [b]will[/b], fucking, do, better. As a team. Not as individuals chasing glory. Are we understood?" Pablo asked, a grovelling yes coming out of Ava, Pablo's grade of Iberian anger looking like smoke was about to pour out of his nostrils. "We have a week to Sao Paolo. Leon, I expect better, especially from you. Or maybe the board will decide what's holding this team back from wins is you." Pablo walked towards the door. He left the room fairly sharp. And the silence echoed, as Ava sat up and picked up the bottle, exhaling, leaning against the wall, looking to Leon. "Say something, Leon. I'm not taking shit from him. You fought over keeping me. Moment you could have given me a chance, you pissed it away. And after nearly dying..... I won't take any offense. We won't be a team until we're honest." Ava simply retorted, looking to Bea before back to Leon, a sigh forming. "Sorry. I owe you a new display." It was barely a whisper, Ava feeling the adrenaline fully shake out of her now, and wanting to leave before she dropped to the floor. Pressure had gotten to everyone. Southern Cross had similar issues when Harrison had clambered to the top. Unlike Valkyrie, the team at Carrera were not seasoned, born in the fire like Valkyrie was in managing strategy, wins, successes. They were still learning, competent, but lacking even 5%, was that final difference that made the upstarts choke. Including Ava. She'd never led a race before. And she'd not win again if she let this get to her. A competent, solid result had dissolved into piss. It wasn't the lows that got you. It was the hope that gave you everything, against all logic, reality, objectivity, that emotion came out and made shit that wasn't consequential, real. It was why racing was why it was. The moments of glory, standing on the top step, contrasted by absolute devastation, hurt that could only come from the highest highs, crashing into brutal lows. So, it was poor timing that Cassie had decided to call Bea in that moment. Cassie had quite possibly, the worst luck in the world when it came to making enquiries of teams. This shitshow made even Zygon's early season meltdown, and maybe even Valkyrie's literal corruption scandal at the end of last year seem viable. [hr] [color=gold][center][h2][i][b]An Antithesis[/b][/i][/h2][/center][/color] The high of another P2 for Paul was maybe not as good as swiping a win from Jenny, but, it was still proof that he could do it under pressure from Nora Kelly, who had come out fighting once again. Every points haul was one that put her closer to Amy, but for Valkyrie, compared to before, this was looking better and better. The team were jubilant, even Dorian was cheering for his team-mate, bigging him up, and giving high fives, because this was another podium excluding Germany and Hawaii, proving he could fight at the top level and bring in his father's talent to life. Dorian might not have been the same pilot he was before, but what he lacked on track, he was making up for in the sim for next year's ship. It was emerging that Paul's style was smooth, silky, almost effortless now- like Dorian's but with more punch, a pilot that could make pushes and feints like Harrison had last year. A points haul that extended the gap past Al-Saqr right when they needed, all the tiny, almost insignificant marginal gains of Alexander yielding into this very moment. Even if Dorian hadn't done well, the double DNF of Carrera ships had lifted his position, and stemmed any damage from Al-Saqr this weekend. It must have felt redemptive, the very highs and lows even by Valkyrie standards all over the shop. Paul would be feeling over the moon, and no doubt, the team felt like from here, they'd turned a corner. No more was the scandal, endless drama, problems of the past. They were now thinking about next season, cementing P3, and who knows, even putting Paul into P3 in the drivers' championship. With the way things were going, the next two rounds would be critical to that effort, make or break to even putting Harrison on the spot. It meant that Paul's target was now not just Kais Zenix, but the 2nd best pilot on the grid from last season's results. Alexander meanwhile, received a call from Johanna Lipusz, despite the timezone difference, a victory in Singapore followed by this making a call from her come through, finding a moment among the chaos. "Evening. Nice results. You breathing ok after what happened at Carrera?" Johanna chuckled, awaiting a response before replying. "It'll be hard from here, but your wonderkid, he is something. We think P3 in constructors based on that performance is still viable. Al-Saqr will not let up on points in the desert tracks. We can end on a high. Let's aim high." Johanna started, as she stated what was increasingly the obvious. "And Mulder's closing in on Makara. If this is what he can do with a ship that isn't made for him, imagine what he'll do with one that is. We need to hone in on this. Forget legacy, Alexander. We need to make sure next year, a European wins this title. The driver's championship would be a hell of a statement. Carrera are expecting to come out swinging but are under financial pressure. More pressure we put on them, more mistakes they'll make, like today. I don't share much optimism. But everything from here, you push. They took Felix from you. You decide how we take it back from them, starting today." [hr] [@Starlance] [b][center][h3][code]Thu 01/10 20:20 - MadBea - [Batt: 75%][/code][/h3][/center][/b] Jen > "Sending you lots of love. I can't imagine how you feel right now. Recommend you don't look at any media or news for a while. Press is going mental. Call me if you can. "P1 is incredible though. I get why you went crazy. Tell you what. Want to grab Rodízio in Rio before the race in Brazil? Give you something else to focus on." [@LadyAmber] [b][center][h3][code]Thu 01/10 23:10 - Paul Mulder - [Batt: 99%][/code][/h3][/center][/b] Max> "Sick drive dude! Gonna be real. MMR is pretty bummed out at the moment. Just trying to work out- you got any recommendations on personal trainers in Germany? I could use a guy, mine doesn't want to move with me to Europe next year."