San Fransisco, California 15:34

It wasn't a hot day but everyone was sweating, this was quite normal for most people it was the day of the preliminary races. A sort of a induction league of races to determine who the final players would be in the famed Risk Rally GP. This was the week that most casual views tuned in, because this is where the most people would die, usually in vicious collisions or spectacular explosions, this is where the sponsors would make their money, and this is why everyone (apart from a few psychos) was sweating.Mech-Mick was't sweating though, he had a job to do, a job that he had been doing for 4 years now. Doing a vehicle check and sending the racers off to their designated racing areas for the starting points. The racing lobby was quite a and attractive area, and after leaving the garage area where all the vehicles were being docked, Mick entered the lobby to grab a coffee and see the drivers.


Mick made his way to the coffee machine walking past a few waste-lander types who were probably from Arizona or New Mexico they wore dusty overalls and drank from their own canteens. They probably wanted to avoid government funded beverages. Which Mick found ironic as they were in a government funded race to the death. But he didn't dwell on it. He also noted the obvious criminal types who seemed to be huddled round a circle of black leather sofas. Smuggling operations were rampant in the prelims, as its one of the perfect covers to transport goods from different places, and contraband wont always be picked up in a routine vehicle check. The Yakuza and various Ex-Black Ops types were the main offenders of this and their impeccable black suits almost made them camouflage with sofas they choose to commandeer.

There was an assortment of random other individuals and freaks, along with your usual depressed businessmen, thrill seekers. C-list celebrities and racing purists. Just around 70 people in total in this lobby alone which made up a tiny percentage of the 75,000 preliminary racers in lobbys all across the west coast and mexico. Mick continued walking while sipping his coffee and scratched his beard as he approached one of the drivers.

Are you Jimmy Brown? good news pal, you wont be waiting around too much longer, one of the prelim races is about to start and your number has came up. You'll be going up against 9 other racers right here in San Francisco. It looks like youve landed one of the easier courses, but I promise you the racers youre going up against are not easy at all, just remember you dont need to come in first, you just need to show the sponsors you can drive, the real competition will come later, this is just free tv for the fans.

Mick sipped his coffee and turned towards the large TV screen, hoping the race announcement would start soon so he could clock-off.

Then suddenly the large intercom began to speak.

Will racers #13 #27 #82 #52 #4 #5 #18 #11 #31 #7 PLease head to the transport train, your vehicles have been delivered to the race track, and you will be taken to the starting line. Travel time Approx 11 mins.

Warm days... god, warm days were not good for what she was wearing. Anastasia fidgeted slightly in her seat on the one side of the room. She was dressed in her jumpsuit with a small briefcase at her side. When needed, she'd form the full space suit she wore during the race. It helped protect her from further damage... plus a lot of people really liked her cosmonaut 'gimmick' as some called it... of course, to Anastasia, it was no gimmick, it was her career... well, was. In any case, a jumpsuit was not the best thing to wear in warm conditions and even now she could feel her brow growing heavier with droplets of sweat. She swiped a gloved hand over her head and sighed slightly...

Was it nerves? She was starting to wonder if it truly was the warmth of the day or nerves making her sweat like this. She wasn't exactly an expert driver... she had taken advanced driving courses whilst working at HQ, but that wasn't quite comparable to racing. She'd done some test driving since then, but she was still no expert. She was better off with experience of riding shuttles into the atmosphere and working the technology onboard her proud machine... maybe that'd be enough. Either way, it was too late to back out now.

She heard the announcement ring over the hall and with a little sigh, she got to her feet and made her way toward the station, one slow step at a time, briefcase swinging around slightly and helmet tucked under one arm. It was like the walk to the cockpit all over again...

Though, it posed the question... was there more or less chance of death when going into a race like this, compared to getting on a space shuttle?

@Dynamo Frokane

It was quite a hot day, hot enough to a certain man who was just too cool to be sweating like the other nervous wrecks, heat challenged ones or ones hopped up on drugs. Jimmy was standing on the side of the lobby where the window wall was located as he was discussing some stuff with his assistant ho. He had to share some words with her about what was going down and he had to make sure she got the point.

"Look na, while I burn on da track, you keep yo ass on da side waitin fo' me. Don't talk ta anybody, don't look at anybody. You wait yo ass at the designated spot until I say you can move. I'm tellin ya, bitch, I will choke yo ass if you try me. Think I'm playin....I'll leave yo ass on da street to be a 2 dolla ho again. Na, Imma run deez foolz and make dat money. You juss sit back and look cute, wit yo fine ass...but I'm serious bout dat shit bout you dissin me in front of othas. Ya gettin too motha fuckin slick wit yo mouf and fell yo ass can do wat ya wanna do...I ain't playin dat- WHile Jimmy was still talking, a man approached him from behind.

Jimmy looked the man up and down "Yo bruh....dontcha see me talkin ta my bitch? He said but then listened to what the mechanic said about the race and the racers and crossed his arms from the information. Jimmy gave an upward hood nod "aight aight, I hear ya, homie. anybody git in my way, I'll merc dem foolz, ya feel me?"

hearing the announcement, Jimmy looked at the mechanic again "Aight dawg, gotta git dat cream and gotta watch out fo dem sheisty motha fuckas too" he turned to look at his assistant ho, Cinnamon "Be good, bitch....I'll be back fo ya soon. he said walking towards the transport train after hearing his number called so to show what he could do.

After leaving Cinnamon, a young girl was watching and listening to what happened. Brigitte walked up with oil stained pants looking at the chosen drivers for the upcoming race this time around. She noticed her fellow mechanic that she thought of as an uncle even though meeting him once. This was her first season of Risk Rally GP and despite the gore, explosions and death she's heard and seen, she was excited to be part of something that could potentially change her life for the better.

Alexandria sat upon a stool at the lobby's bar, sipping slowly on a cuba libre. A pre-race drink had always been a part of her routine and now was no time to change that. A loud slurping came from the bottom of the glass as the liquid struggled to enter the straw, and Alexandria pushed the drink aside. Slapping enough neo-credits on the counter to cover her drinks and a generous tip, she looked to the barkeep. "Keep the change, chum," Alexandria spoke, the words with a smoky tone to them. "I'll have much more where that came from after I win these races. Do cheer for me." she gave the man a wink as she stood and walked away from the bar.

Alexandria made her way to the restroom, in need of a mirror in order to ensure she looked good for the cameras. The door swung open near silently, and she soon faced herself in a wall of glass and reflective metal. Starting from the top, Alexandria adjusted the red band which held her hair up, making sure every strand lay where it should. She moved down to her cropped blue and white plaid button-down,fastened only with the second and third button, straightening it so as to not leave any creases. She brushed her denim skirt to do the same. Alexandria opened the tin which hung from her belt, checking that it was full of smokes for her race.

"Alright now, nothing to worry about," She stared at her face in the reflection in front of her as she talked aloud. "You've seen tons of races here, hell, you've even won a few. This is going to be a cakewalk. Now get out there and show them what that bird can do!" Alexandria smirked, turning and walking out of the restroom.

As she reentered the lobby, a voice came over the intercom calling the racers to the transport train which would take them to the track. "How fitting that they'd call me first. I'm honored, intercom," she laughed, making her way to the train. Her quick strides took her past another of the racers heading toward the transport, whom she looked back and blew a mocking kiss to. Not much further and she had reached the entrance, doors opening and allowing her to take a seat. She picked one not far from the door, slouching back and kicking her feet up across the aisle to the seats opposite her.

The was hot and that's why it's best to be waiting inside where its cool and there is food. That is Riku's basic thought process as he was sitting in a booth with his friends and the waiter just brought their food. They were tight on money so they all split one thing, and that being a fairly big sandwich which they had cut up into five pieces. There was also talk how if Riku wins this they can finally pay off that debt and still have money to start their own business, and maybe afford a cheap place to sleep instead of sleeping in the car they worked so hard on.

The numbers were called out and Riku got up and was ready to race "Well guys this is it, we've come so far. And to be honest I refuse to lose this race especially now. So I'm going to win this but not by myself... I'm going to win this with the help of everyone of you. You know as a team!" his friends all wished him good luck and cheered him on as he left.

Riku had entered the transport train and really didn't know where to sit. Everyone just sort of intimidated him it was a way different feeling than being on the track. Because on the track all you can see is the car not the racer inside, and even though Riku's car doesn't have any weapons to say the least. It doesn't scare him seeing a car with like a cannon on the top because he knows he can just out drive that car and get out of range. Anyhow Riku ended up sitting next to some girl with red hair and goggles. He really didn't want to start a conversation just because and waited quietly for the transport train to stop.

The train station was sprawling, so many people were on their way to watch the promotional races. The congestion was filled with family fans, university students, mob types, businessmen, professional gamblers and general car enthusiasts. The intercom sparked back on in a much louder female voice that echoed throughout the halls. San Francisco Transit Carriage 12254 ready to depart.

All 10 drivers managed to make it on in time and took their seats inside the somewhat spacious train. The carriage they were on came with private glass booths near the window seats that could be closed for privacy. The air was fresh and conditioned and gentle music began playing as the train began moving.



#31 Jake Spencer sat down first, he kept his hat on and slumped down in one of the double seats taking up more space than he needed, and kicked his feet up on the table, he then grabbed a bottle of whisky from his coat jacket and started to drink it straight. He didn't say anything but the expression on his face was smug and assuming, he had already decided he was going to win and win big.

#18 Moira McCarthy skipped into the room smiling big and sat down next to #13 Amanda Sturlson and instantly began chatting with an almost unnerving level on enthusiasm. Hi, Oh my god are you Ms Sturlson the Rockabilly? I cant believe I'm racing against you! I saw your Pontiac Pheonix in the promo images on you drivers profile, and I fell in love instantly! Did you know there are only 12 of those left in the world?

Trying to block out the sound from the girl's annoying voice and constant talking, #7 Rayla Keroza searched her rucksack for her headphones, hoping to drown the girl out. Only when #5 Riku 'The Kid' Gracer sat down next to her, he caught her attention because of his headphones, the normally quiet girl actually made the first move. Hey kid, what are you listening to? Those pieces look pretty sweet.

The the train began to move at rapid pace, but very smoothly over the cutting edge design rails, there wasn't a single sound as it shot towards its destination.

She got onboard the train headed for the track and took a seat near the front... maybe she was just used to being so up close to the windows it came naturally. It didn't matter much, she wasn't driving, and this train hopefully wouldn't burn up on its trip to god knows where.

She sat relatively alone and kept her helmet in her lap for the time being. Just in case someone wanted to talk to her... then again, looking around, did she really want that? Some of the people here didn't exactly look like good folks, not that one drinking alcohol straight from the bottle like a homeless person... there were a fair amount of other women here, something she felt a little comfort in. At least she wouldn't be racing up against pure testosterone all the time.

Her gloved fingers drummed impatiently on the glass visor of her helmet... how curious it would feel, to be so seperated from her competitors in their vehicles, yet she could see them here, so close. She could talk to them, learn of their entire life story in just a few minutes, learn what they liked, how they raced... and in the end, chances were they'd go up in smoke or be carried out on a stretcher. How sad... long lives snuffed out in a matter of seconds.

She must've looked a little sorrowful to anyone watching her...

Hex's head was bobbing to the beat as she strolled into the Lobby Area of the train station she had been directed to. Seeing as she didn't speak much English, let alone speak much at all, it was lucky she even made it here at all!
And yet, Hex wasn't all that concerned. What with her tunes blaring as loudly as they were through her headphones, she was hardly thinking about the world around her or the races to come. The only thing on her mind right now was how sick this new track sounded!

Looking about the lobby for an empty space, Hex managed to locate an empty couch all by it's lonesome, and took a seat, shutting her eyes, and taking a moment to catch some rest...

... Before an annoyingly loud intercom interrupted her session of relaxation, though figuring it was important, she tuned in and listened. None of the numbers announced rang true for Hex, and so she sat back once again and shut her eyes, head bobbing to the beat still. Her mind began to wander back home, to her parents and to her friends, who were counting on her to win this race. The thought of them tuning in to watch, only to learn she'd passed away, spooked the teen and forced a gasp. However, playing her music louder seemingly quelled the discomfort. She was the best driver in the gang, with the best car in their arsenal, and although it wasn't especially fast or had weapons, it was tough and could avoid hits better than most in sticky situations. Such was the power the rich could afford. Stealing this from it's owner was no easy task, but it was worth it in the end.

Her mind drifted even further, and pretty soon she unknowingly fell asleep, not that anyone would be able to tell. After all, her head was still bobbing as she slept, though at a slower pace now than before.

'Cool...'

Alexandria's face cracked into a grin as the woman who sat near her began excitedly talking about her and her car. She closed her eyes and nodded silently while she listened, and when the girl had finished Alexandria opened her eyes and began to speak in her usual calm and velvet tone. "That's right, sugar. Miss Alexandria Sturlson, driver of the Phoenix. Personally though, I like to think the car and I work together to get those wins. She puts in work, and takes all the beating I put her through. As for how many were made, I'm not surprised it was so few. The original Firebirds came out over a thousand years ago, and Pontiac has been out of business for a long time. It took a lot of money to build these new ones."

A slight sigh escaped her lips as she dropped her feet to the floor, scooting back in her seat and leaning forward, placing her elbows on her knees. "So you must be Moira, huh? How's the Viper doing? I was thinking of dropping one of those V-tens in my bird, but I ended up having something custom forged." Alexandria brought her hands down to the tin against her right hip, opening it and retrieving one of her self-rolled cigarettes, along with her book of matches. "Hope you don't mind a bit of smoke by the way."

After taking a match from the pack Alexandria returned the book to the container. She struck the head against her skirt to ignite it, bringing the unfiltered butt to her puckered lips. She inhaled slowly as the flame met the tobacco filled paper, drawing the smoke into her lungs. The match extinguished itself half down the stick, and Alexandria had no qualms about leaving the charred remains on the floor of the train car. Smoke poured from her nostrils as she exhaled through her nose, and a more relaxed look fell upon her face.

@CadenGallic
Robert looked around the train car. Bunch of wanna be kids that tempted fate with a race like Risk Rally. He sighed under his mask as he inspected some of the younger drivers. Some could be his children. But he wasn't here to play the dad they never had. He drew a cross in the air in front of him. This train was the last stop before everyone here turns into an enemy. Every friendship forged here will end in a blazing combo of fuel and metal, and every enemy made is one more nail in your coffin. Some have already realized it by now, sitting yb themselves, whilst some seemed to ignore tha fact that the ones they are talking to might end under their own hands. Humans tend to spare those who they know, but some don't have this trait, and mercillesly backsta others. Robert looked around once more to search for an empty cabin. There was none.

He made his way to one of the more quiet corners of the train car. After some hesitation he sat down across a weird girl that was grasping a flight helmet. She didn't seem to notice nor care about Robert sitting down. Good. The less people that fuss about him the better. He just hoped this girl wasn't from anywhere in Asia, because those folks knew him better than anyone. He looked at the girl's face once more, jsut to make sure. The girl was probably in her late 20s, and her sorrowful eyes gazed with emptiness. At least she didn't look like a chinese girl. She could be still Russian, but Robert didn't give that thought any space. Chances are any one racer here could have heard about him. He closed his eyes to get some rest. He tried thinking about the race track, but his mind bombarded him with sad thoughts. He quickly changed subject after looking at the girl's helmet. People always looked weird at him when he dozed off. From the outside you couldn't tell he was sleeping because of the mask, but he usually woke up to strange looks. Good memories. At least people fear, or admire his mask sometimes. Not like it compensates for anything. He tightened his fists, and took a deep breath.

He couldn't find much of a sotthening in the view outside, so he took the gamble and adressed teh girl in front of him. "Hey-" the deep metallic voice that came from behind the mask surprised him. It has been so long he talked that he forgot how awful this voice was. Never can he sing gain under the shower, or sing a song for a girl. No, his life was ruined by racing, and he must make it all right again by racing. But he couldn't stop talking, just because he hated his voice. He swallowed some nagry words, and began his sentence once again. "Hey girl, nice helmet. Where did you get it from?"

"Hm?" Anastasia was broken from her slight trance she'd fallen into, lost in the maelstrom of thoughts swirling in her head, by the words of the fellow who joined her in her little corner on the train. A man in a mask. The things that could mean stretched to the horizon and beyond. Perhaps a mask to hide his shame, perhaps a mask for the sake of character, perhaps a mask to intimidate those who feared the faceless... the romanticism of such a mask was endless and Anastasia had to mentally halt herself from going on a tangent about it. It was rude not to answer the gentleman, after all. Well, at least he sounded male... maybe it was a woman wearing chest padding. The line between genders only seemed to get thinner...

"The helmet, it was from my workplace, back at my old job." she explained, holding it up for him to get a better look at him. She wasn't sure if he'd spotted the Rosmocos logo or not. Hell, maybe he didn't even know what Rosmocos is, astrology and space travel was hardly the hobby of most racers. "It was my lifeline, what kept me alive in the most inhospitable of places... it seemed only fitting I bring it to a death spree like this, yes?" she joked a little bit, trying to lighten the air between them a little bit. Maybe this stranger didn't have a sense of humour... she couldn't exactly go about reading his facial expressions now, could she?

"Anastasia Korenchkin." she introduced herself, offering a hand to him.

After getting into the train after the final boarding announcement was made for the racers and started moving to transport the people to the racing site, Jimmy went to go find a seat near the middle area of the train, not particularly wanting to talk to anyone but to get a good view of his potential rivals all around him.

There was something Jimmy thought about. Hos.....hos everywhere. He never expected to see many females in this race this time around and there was a little fantasy in his mind about pimping everyone of them. The thought of turning them out so that he could have himself a variety. Asian persuasion, butter pecan Puerto Ricans, Chocolate deluxe, Maybe a little Euro euphoria....the possibilities were endless with his surrounding female rivals and perhaps, he thought that he could maybe buy one of them once he won. Anything was possible to happen so his main focus was to survive and win.

Looking at a few of these males, Jimmy could feel they were going to do some extremely slimy stuff so....for luck wishing purposes, Jimmy brought with him a charm that he always need to carry before he goes on to handle a dangerous task. Something he never leaves home. Something he felt has never let him down before. Cinnamon's panties. Her fresh g-string she takes off and gives to him before heading off to handle business. Still having her scent on them, as he pulls the garment out of his pocket and grasp them before taking a whiff and placing it back in his pocket, waiting for the train to stop so he could get down and get funky.

(I know that last paragraph may have sounded weird.)

@CadenGallic
Robert shook Anastasia's hands. "The name's Mask. At least, the one that stuck on me." He looked out the window, and glared at his own reflection. His mask covered most of his face, and the hood covered the rest, but a signle tuft of hair was visible. His blonde hair was a reminder of the past, jsut like everything on him. Even the landscape outside is only now, for a brief time. Then you forget it, and it becomes past, linking memories to your brain whenever you see it again. "I guess we both have our own share of things to hide." He looked back at the girl in front of him, and examined her helmet some more. "You wear it to forget the present, and I wear mine to forget the past." His sigh was visible through the mask, and it just gave more depth to the already troubled atmosphere. He looked at the girl's depressed face, and decided it was enough mental comfort and justification for the time being. He grabbed two glasses and poured some alcoholic beverage into one. He passed it to teh girl, and grabbed the empty one himself. "Here's hoping that the people we see here today, will not die by our hands. Cheers." He raised the glass, and then made a drinking motion in the air. He spoke through the mask once again, now with an audible grin in his voice. "I'd be happy to join you, but as you can see, I am lacking the means. Please, don't trouble yourself with the details, and enjoy your drink."

"Well... I suppose that figures." Anastasia shrugged it off. With a name like that, her prior thoughts of hiding ones identity for it became a little more prominent. It wasn't exactly a very evocative name... of anything other than the mysteriousness of the masked face. At his further comments, she shook her head. "No, my friend. I wear this to remind me of what i'm fighting for... and, it's very good if I should ever crash. If it can survive a fall from the heavens, it can survive a fall on the road." she smiled a little lighter as her gaze felt less heavy, an invisible weight lifting off of her. This levity was more than welcome... right now, she needed it, to lessen the tension of the race ahead of them. At least, she had a potential ally or at least someone to chat with later.

When she was offered a drink, she was dubious at first and took a moment to look it over before taking a casual sip, slow and small, just to ensure herself the beverage was fine enough, before looking back at the masked fellow.
"I apologise... but, with the kind of people racing, i'm sure spiking a drink isn't above what some would do." She explained herself, glancing to the dark skinned man sniffing what appeared to be underwear. She briefly wondered how many roofies he had planted into drinks in the past and shivered a little at the thought.

Riku was surprised that the girl actually spoke to him. "Oh nothing major just some bands from back home." he answered unsure if he should continue. Riku took a quick gaze around the train just to see the other racers, and one of them had caught his eye. Some black guy had taken out a pair of underwear and sniffed it... "I'm glad I don't have to sit next to that guy." he muttered under his breath. Honestly Riku doesn't know when this train ride will be over and wondered if anyone else knew obviously he was only willing to ask the one girl who he replied to earlier. "So uh how long is this train ride gonna take?" he asked her.

Theme Of Arrival

Ding Ding

The sound of the train stop alert rang through out the carriage. #11Dill Daniels who had fallen asleep on the short ride, snapped awake seemingly annoyed by the following announcement.

Will the drivers please leave the carriage and take all belongings and litter with you, your cars are at the starting line of the race track, thank you for travelling with RISK RALLY transport.

Although some were still in conversation, they all got up and left the carriage in a fairly orderly manner except #31 Jake Spencer who had just gotten through a quarter flask of whiskey, was feeling somewhat surly and antagonistic, and bumped his way past #82The Mask and stared right at him as he did it.

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 shuffle of the racers stepped out of the train station which was only 3 feet away from the starting track in the beautiful cosmopolitan San Francisco race track on a sunny day. All 10 cars were lined up side by side with priority positioning given to the lowest numbers to the highest. The floating holo cameras were everywhere and citizens from all around the block had gathered around and were leaning over the security fences to get a better look at the cars.

Rayla Keroza was still standing next to Riku as they got off the train and she gave him an encouraging smirk.

Looks like we are here kid, you make sure that retro muscle motor of yours takes it easy on me okay? I want to live long enough to check out some of your local bands from back home.

Moira McCarthy had been talking to Alexandria Sturlson all about her Pip Viper on the way over and was now overjoyed to be able to tell her about it. She jumped up and down as she was near her beloved vehicle. Ms Rockabilly! isnt she beautiful? all fitted with a custom V-12 engine and an amazing dystopian style paintjob! isnt this fitting? I cant wait for this awesome race to the death! I'm gonna be racing against so many celebrities! see you on the race track Ms Sturlson, maybe we could....go for a drink after if we both live through this?

Moira blew Alexandria a kiss and hopped into her Pip viper all ready to start. The Holo screen in front of them detailed the course they would be driving on.

One Lap Around The San Fransico Promo Block. No weapons for this race.

'The Scenic Route'


Theme Song

Difficulty Grade: E
Description:
A nice simple track that's beautiful sunny scenery make it the top spot for advertisers to make their revenue from the billions of watchers around the world. The roads are high quality tarmac and the track is very simple to navigate. Malachy Connors has driven a few customers around this route in his cab, as its a hot attraction for tourists who travel to California to see the races.

The Race was about to begin.

-

Hearing the train pull to a stop, Anastasia knew it was time to suit up. Once she was out there, cameras would be on her and she needed to look her best. No fear was allowed on the circuit. She would retain her mysterious cosmonaut image. She flicked open her briefcase and slipped it on over her head as the piece of technology formed armament around her shoulders and went down her body bit by bit, stopping at her hips as she was now, truly, in her gear. To top it off, she slipped on her helmet, the outside world now locked off behind a sheet of glass, all noises filtered and muffled... it gave her time to be alone with her thoughts at the very least.

As the others boarded her vehicles, she approached her pride and joy... the Nova-5 lunar vehicle, the last remnant of her old job and her tattered career. She still looked beautiful in the sunshine, she smiled to herself as she clambered on top of the vehicle and opened the hatch from above, dropping into the cockpit and preparing the systems, flicking on the power, putting it in gear, preparing the patented CRY-10 weapons system. She didn't intend to destroy her opponents utterly... the most she'd try to do, hopefully, was disable or make them crash. Then it was their problem if they survived or not.

Her gloved fingers gripped the steering wheel, gripping and ungripping, gripping and ungripping, gripping and ungripping... nerves were getting to her a bit. She could see a lot of speed demons amidst the vehicles, well armoured, weapons mounted... yep, those nerves were mounting. She just had to keep faith in her space age tech and her skills in orbit... after all, she doubred anyone else here could boast having raced a vehicle across the surface of a celestial body.

She had a scan over the map of the track. Straightforward and pretty simple... she smiled at those hairpin turns. Her vehicle had excellent grip, she would probably be able to make some passes on those. The straights were a bit more of an issue. She'd roll with it.

Hex was bobbing her head the whole way there, from the train station to the train, and then kept bobbing while on the train. Her music was too loud to hear anybody else. Maybe if someone sat next to her it might have gotten her attention, though that was a stretch. In order to keep her head in the game she listened to the loudest tunes she could muster, not that it was any different to anything else she listened to, nor how loudly she listened to them. Jet lag didn't help matters, and she was dying for some proper sleep. However first, she had a race to win.

The ride to the track was peaceful - uneventful. Like the calm before the storm, it gave a small, momentary sense of comfort before making the gravity of the situation all the more apparent.
Hex simply played her tracks louder.

She watched as lights flashed overhead, her attention turning towards the window, managing to catch a momentary glimpse of the track and the crowd surrounding it.
Nothing she wasn't used to, of course, but it still sent a tingle down her spine.
The surroundings went dark as the racers enter a tunnel, and Hex checks her music player for a new track.

'Need something... fitting... Let's make an impression...'



As soon as they arrived, Hex had gotten into her wireless music player on her car and was blasting some sweet tunes. Of course it wasn't enough to reveal her secret, of course, however it was loud enough to leave an impression. If you loved it or hated it, there was no denying it was damn loud.
The sound waves sent tingles through her stomach.
Her car bounces slightly as she makes her way towards it, and she flashes a small light show for the crowd, though due to it being daylight they likely couldn't see too much. Opening the door, the young woman slid inside to the drivers seat and leans her head back, listening to the sweet, sweet sounds of her speakers...

She opens one eye to view the information on the course. This looked to be Hex's specialty - if she could win any of the races, it'd be this one. She wasn't quite sure how Risk Rally dealt with cheaters, though she figures she'll learn it soon enough. They had people killing each other with guns and cannons, so cutting the course sounds hardly out of line, at least that was Hex's mentality.

She sits there, legs kicked up and listening to her music, until there's an announcement to be made or the race is ready to begin.

As soon as the train stopped and it was time to go, Jimmy was about to get up but waited while watching the females that were near him, get off first to take a look at their asses. Almost like a commentator for ass analysis, Jimmy was conversing in his mind who out of the ladies had the best looking ass. He noticed another who was lingering while finishing his whiskey, so...Jimmy stood as the last of the ladies got up to get out and he followed.

Watching his rivals get to their cars and heading out to his own. He watched her black shiny, motha fucka, the Black Lightning, sitting there, looking sexier than most of his hoes. He knew what was at stake and like the info he got earlier in the lobby, he just needed to make it through the prelims...not to worry about getting 1st place.

Jimmy was trying to hype himself up looking at each rival and speaking "Yeeaaahhh ain't here ta shuck and jive ya dig. Gon' get nasty....real nasty, ya billy?" he said speaking jive. He looked over at the ladies "Sweet chicken legz, chicken legz. ya go hard, real hard. Ya rides slammin." giving a compliment....sort of....if it sounded like a compliment. He opened the car door and got inside looking through his custom made cassette collection of oldschool hip hop and funk and pulled out a tape that he wanted to listen to to get his mind right for the race. placing the tape in, he turned the music up a bit.
Uptown Anthem

He started bumping his head placing his hand on the wheel ready to get the race started and lit up a black and mild.