Slypheed — Roleplayer Guild

Valeriya Ilyushin

>Days ago...
Another day in the shop. Another car to fix, though this one was quite flashy. Probably some big city head checking out this father and daughter mechanic shop that he heard of. Not that Valeriya cared at all. Was just another customer. Just so long as he didn't enter the actual shop and see the 'goods' that was her. There had been a few like that. But she only focused on doing the check-up that the customer had asked for. Though she did find it odd that it was only a check-up and nothing more.

That's when she heard footsteps. The type you couldn't ignore. The type of footsteps that come from dress shoes. But kept her face buried in the car, she had a job to do afterall. "Come to check the 'goods'?" She asked in a very bitter fashion. "You flatter me, but no. I come with a proposition-" "Cutting straight to the marriage proposal?" she cut him off, again with a very bitter tone. "No again. Can I finish before you cut me off again?" Valeriya sighed, then nodded, not pulling her head away from the vehicle. "Alright then." The man cleared his throat. "You are Valeriya Ilyushin. Daughter of two immigrant parents, legal immigrants. You were born on Russian soil, and raised right here in Neo-Bay." Valeriya had frozen with what he had already said, but he kept talking. "For most of your early years, you had a pretty normal life as the daughter of a grease monkey. Even helping your father out in the shop. But shortly after your 16th birthday, your life was changed drastically. A boy attacked you, kidnapped you, and beat you near to death. To list a few things." Valeriya spun around quickly as he finished that sentence, a mix of shock and anger on her face "How do you know that about me?!" "Let me finish please. Continuing on. Police found you, many bruises and cuts. Left dozens of scars on your body, you've even got one on your forehead that you hide with your hair. After that event, you took some time to feel the psychological effects of his actions. Then you joined the Youth Army Cadets, the reasons you gave for joining were vague, but no one questioned it. You met Mack Yancy, conversed with him, one of the few that you conversed with while in the Cadets, never became friends, but were acquaintances. But only for a year, as he had graduated with honors. But you were a smart kid yourself, when you graduated, you got honors, and were valedictorian of your class." 

He paused. He was taking a draw of his cigarette. But she was quite shocked at how much he knew. After he finished exhaling, he continued to speak his knowledge of her. "After your graduation though, you did not follow Mack into the Police force. Nor did you follow your peers into private firms. You came back here for about a year, until you joined up with the professional racing circuits. Well, that was your most public movement. Underneath that, you drive in underground circuits to further enhance your skill. Along with driving for private firms. You left the racing league after two and a half years, but kept yourself in the underground, and as a freelance driver for the private firms."

"What do you want then?" She asked in a less bitter tone. "I'd like you to join up with a small group of people I'm pulling together. With Mack Yancy as the team leader, though I will be the sort of 'top brass' of the group." He pulled a file out of his suit. "The name's Tim Taggart by the way, but do call me Tim. Here's a file with copies of everyone else involved, as I know you also like to read, so you'll have some new reading material for the next few hours. If you do decide to join up, there are instructions on where to go and when." She took the file and stared at it a bit confused before looking up to see him going through the door that connected the shop to the front desk. Valeriya took a few minutes to let it soak in before finishing her work so she could decide on what to do about this whole situation.

>Present

Dear god! Why was this place so damn far away?! Valeriya was sitting at a red light, looking at the address over and over again. "Well baby girl, lets show this city who owns the streets." She reached for the volume control for the stereo system and cranked it full. Then scrolled through a list of songs, and found a fitting song, and pressed play. All somehow timed well with a green light, and Valeriya floored it. The engine roared with hate. The rear wheels desperately working for traction as thick clouds of white smoke poured from them, along with a loud screeching. She knew she wouldn't have time for going slow. She'd be way too late, and the 'speed limits' were a joke anyway. As she drove, she blazed passed those that were going much slower, and the street lights whizzed by, causing colored pulses on the exterior of her car. Valeryia pushed well into triple digits on the speedometer, pulling high octane drifts around turns, and blazing through stop lights. Weaving through traffic, and squeezing her way through those stopping for red lights. She was the definition of a demon. 

Along her path of demonic speeding she found herself rapidly approaching the location, along with a new song playing. "Work with momma on this one." She spoke to the car as she slammed the brakes, causing a very audible screeching from the tires along with smoke spewing from them due to the friction. Though due to her speeds, she slid past the location. So she threw the car into a drift, and slammed on the gas pedal to turn that momentum around. The car's engine was just as quiet as the tires are, in that they were as loud as they could possibly be. Anyone who was sleeping was no doubt abruptly awoken. Once she got the car going in the opposite direction, she drove back to the location, then pulled an unnecessary drift to put the car onto the correct side of the street to park, accompanied by a unneeded engine rev, letting the whole area know how angry her car was. Valeryia sat inside her car for a few seconds before turning it off and stepping out.

She entered the building, found the apartment number and knocked. Once Craig answered, she just pushed past. The smell didn't bother her. She'd inhaled worse. Same with the sights. Her work station at the shop wasn't the cleanest, and yet she worked better than most mechanics in a clean shop. Her face and clothes were fresh with the marks and smells of working on engines. So if anything, she just added to the mixture of smells. Valeryia spotted Mack, but that was the only familiar face.
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