---

Sebi listened to Soihban talk and as she brought up one person after another he slowly grew more and more confused. He didn't know who any of those people were, expect for the fact that Jagger could dance really well apparently but he had no room to agree nor disagree with any of her statememts. I actually know the song from my childhood. I have questionable memories of listening sing the song at a boarding school where I grew up," He replied as a sipped the bubbly golden drink from the fairly fancy looking glass, And if your jagged joke is a request to dance then I'll habe to take you up on it though i haven't danced with someone in years"

Sebi softly chuckled at his very modest statement, though it was very true since the last time he did dance was for a class he took out of boredom but there he learned how to waltz and that's not the best choice of dancing when your at a city party unless you're trying to show off which if he had a choice would chose to not to since even when he did waltz for school he wasn't the best.

---

Nodding to the man as he answered her questions in a calm manner, though her amethyst did blink slowly as he paused before hand to seemingly examine her. How well he responded, it seemed this man had some training of some caliber. Still she just nodded as she continued her careful examination. Considering there didn't seem to be outer physical injury, and the state of her body that there was some medical reason. Still, it was best not to move her until the paramedics arrived. If it was urgent, Ashton could easily carry the unconscious woman, although not the best thing to do. Her neck seemed fine at least.

Standing up as the paramedics arrived, she gave a cheerful smile and nodded to them as they took care of the patient. At the two men's thanks, Ashton gave a smile as she scratched her right cheek in embarrassment. Honestly, she didn't too much other than following procedure. But she was glad to at least see, for the most part, that the girl's vitals seemed to be okay.

As the girl was being taken care of and one of the men followed after her, the tall blonde gently patted Ren on the head in reassurance. Even if they didn't do much, some support can go a long way for someone. Amethyst gaze turning toward the tall man, she tilted her head for a moment with a curious expression. For a moment thinking about asking for something before remembering that they should probably check on Siobhan since Ashton had quickly left her and with Ren here she was on her own at the moment.

Not like Ashton thought the lady couldn't take care of herself, but it would be nice to make sure she was alright. So the awkward giant clasped her hands together and bowed to the tall man that had tended to the unconscious woman and gave a bright cheerful smile as she waved her hand in farewell. Perhaps they would meet again. Glancing to Ren, Ashton gave another bright smile, tilting her head in a questioning manner back toward where they left their red haired friend.

Soon enough was carrying her tall figure through the crowd, though careful not to lose her white haired companion. Easily spotting the red head with a man with dark colored hair. Soon enough she was waving both her hands in the air and giving little jumps of joy and greeting like a bouncing pup. Coming to a halt beside them, she gave a curious expression with the same cheerful smile. Giving a slight grin as if to say that it looked like they were having fun and she was glad for it.

Time skip is now active.

You are free to use any time from after party to lunch time. The ball will be closing. You are free to carry on at any other venues and dance, drink and party the night away.

Due to the wide range of times potentially. Please just tag your posts so people know when you are posting in.

Questions and comments can be directed @PrinceAlexus and myself here in the OOC or PM. Gripes and complaints can just go straight to Alexus.

---

@Lemons@The1Rolling1Boy@Almalthia@Silver Fox@ReusableSword@SgtEasy@valckyriie@Avali

@Shard@Poi@Rabidporcupine@SouffleGirl123@RoccanIronclad@Monacho@Jay Kalton@PrinceAlexus@TwelveOf8@King Tai@RawrEspada4@Robo27@Desparadina@Voltus_Ventus@aladdin_sane@Furiosa@alexfangtalon@Icepick

---

---

Milo led the two women off to where he had parked his truck, it was not far just in a nearby lot, luckily it was easy enough to get into that no one even the inebriated could hurt themselves. and after a short time he was able to ascertain where Rajvi lived so that he could drop her back off there, she was a kind and pleasant girl, he wouldn't want to see her hurt trying to walk home in the snow and at night.

"Good night Rajvi, be careful please." Milo said as Rajvi exited the vehicle and stepped out in front of her home.

Milo drove off with Vika after the door was shut and the two of them made a short stop at the nearby new fish and chips joint that she had mentioned earlier, they shared a quick meal before this time headed to their final destination for the night, Milo's house.





Milo woke the next morning groggily, he hated mornings, they haven't been the same for a few years and he was still not entirely used to it, he started to sit up as he did every morning, but today he found himself weighed down, he looked over and saw Vika and her silvery hair strewn across the pillow, and her head rested on his arm, he couldn't help but smile, his morning haze lifting and clarity coming back to him, she had come back with him last night, the two of them really seemed to be hitting it off, he felt like things were at a good pace and he was thankful for it, for her. Milo carefully pulled away so he could get up, as he did he got himself together and headed to the kitchen to start something for breakfast.

Milo's kitchen is a rustic farmers market of tools and knives, most of which he had made himself, granted, he does have modern appliances, he isn't a monster. Milo did like to hand grind coffee beans and had a specific tool for it, so he sat at his counter and was grinding the beans to make his morning cup and had a kettle on the stove heating as well as a pot set out with a number of tea ingredients and some pre-made bags, some days he felt like a hipster in his own home, but he just like to do things himself, mostly why he loved his job, as well as missed his home. In his minor trance-like state of grinding, Milo thought back on more memories of home, fishing in the ocean and lakes, backyard barbecues, and the many mornings like this where Milo would sit in the kitchen grinding beans, only difference was that this time Ana would not be coming out from the bedroom to share a cup with him.

---

---

@PrinceAlexus @Lemons

((Lemons, I left some room in there for you to make your goodbyes and such but I was told to move us along.))

Ephraim Feldman

Whhrrrr

Thunk Thunk Thunk

Rusted, aged machines punctuated by jagged edges and blunt lines spit out piece after endless piece of cold slate grey steel doodads, the distinct musty aroma of coolant and way oil omnipresent. These ancient iron titans of an industrial age long forgotten by the rest of the city, had performed this daily routine for 80 odd years now, and as the night drew to a close, the calloused hands of tiny beings called for them to stop and rest, to await the coming of a new sun.

Ephraim felt a wave of relief as the last few machines were shut down for the night. It was a solid work day, the pieces ran were the same as the week before and the machines were a steady as ever. This night, as all Friday nights since Ephraim started and probably years before him would end just a 2 hours earlier than the rest of the week day, precisely 12 O’clock on the dot. Just in time for these salt-of-the-earth workers to catch the last few hours of their prefered alcohol establishment.

Ephraim did one last round of his section checking and double checking that each gauge, outlet, and valve were where they should be before he quickly jogged to catch up with the rest of his coworkers. The factory doors were quickly shut and locked behind them.

Ephraim waved his farewells as each coworker got into their own vehicle, seldom wanting to stay more time at the factory as needed. The night shift, was a “skeleton crew” of sorts just a small handful of men that ran parts and pieces deemed “important” by the spooks at the company office. These men would seldom cross paths on the factory floor as their respective machines were spread out amongst the rather large building. instead they spent most of the evening in their lonesome, with their work as their only constant companion.



Ephraim had only been in Sol City for just over 6 weeks, but he already marked out a dingy little dive just a few blocks away from his cramped studio apartment. The 501. It was certainly a “spot”, as in, a spot on the clean linens of society, but that venue served its purpose: cheap, watered down drinks and greasy table snacks.

Confidently, Ephraim pushed aside the doors, a fight each time as the hinges had unaligned by fluctuating temperarures long ago, and took up a bar stool towards the middle of the counter. Luckily this one only creaked a little as he took his tired seat to the seat.

At the sound of a new patron, the barkeeper pried his eyes from the soft humming of an old crt TV playing reruns of some dated 60s "classic". With a huff hr met eyes with Ephraim who promtly nodded to the barkeep in greeting. Without so much as a word, a chipped glass, some whiskey, and chunks of foggy ice was drawn from some dark depths of the counter.

Ephraim would usually nurse a glass or 2 over the course of the short night, accompanied by a few cigarettes from an almost empty box. That was the plan tonight, as it had been every Friday night. To some it would seem that Ephraim was stuck in a rut, kicking up mud as his wheels spun in place, but it was a simple pleasure to have a familiar place with familiar faces that one can count on to not change.

Just a bit longer

Friday evening . Various locations

---

Victoria waved as they left devouring thr remainder of the fish and chips with a intensity that would be surprising for a person like her, but a long evening, munchies and general cold had made her rather hungry and missed a few home comforts.

Take care.. Text me some time!

Waving to Rajvi she hoped they would message her, she seemed nice and they shared a few intrests, plus she felt abit of a affinity with the nervous woman. Thr confident shell Victoria presented was somewhat a false wall that hid a alot more complicated and conflicting emotions and feelings. Watching her head home she thought about asking for a lift home but somthing made her think and decided her evening maybe have a more fun ending.

The drive was a short one as the old phrase said. "that escalated quickly"

Saturday Morning . Final round armoury

Waking up slowly and looking round the unfamiliar bedroom blinking slightly in the sunlight of the morning shining over the slightly icey water, looking over the bed was empty but the faint sounds from a kitchen rang out. Yawning and slightly nervously thinking there was no advantage to use this time, she had to just let life take its way. Climbing out of bed and picking up Milos discarded shirt before quickly tieing it into a slightly too short but practical dress. Too big to fit, it worked with a few tweaks.

A quick text to her sister confirming she was OK and wishing her luck with the race, she knew Marlin would tease her somewhat about it but Marilania had somthing on with her. Ren, someone else? Someone had attracted her intrest.

Heading out after quickly sorting her hair out, cleaning up and leaving a little pile of hair clips in the corner of bathroom freeing long white hair from anything left of her platt. Heading out unsteadily and walking slowly without her stick, Milo had to see the real Victoria eventually however much her nerves poked her like tiny needles. Happy but nervous, walking out was not always easy.

Morning. Definitely a Better one! Ive not done this for a while.

I had to adapt your shirt abit though.

Got any tea?

Less steady and distracted by everything a flash of pain and relised she had managed to walk into a box, with a tinkle of glass somthing broke on top and fell in. Wow. Forst ever morning and she had broken somthing as a record indeed.

Черт побери

Swearing in Russian and leaning down slowly a slight bruise on her foot, not to utterly expose self with the shorter hem line, picking up carefully a photo frame with what looked like a younger thinner Milo, maybe paige and some other pretty women on his arm. She looked tanned, normal and they seemed to be happy. Feeling slightly sad, she never could be normal, there was always that insecurity about herself. Everyone wanted a normal happy white picket fence, not the broken girl?

Nervously trying to smile and picking up the photo, she placed it on side and quietly tried to ignore it and be casual and greeting him with a kiss as a normal person would.

Ummm sorry. I'm not entirely coordinated...

Il replace it... If you want..

Voice breaking a a little, she needed a distraction and wishing the tea was ready, before grabbing a few grapes from a fruit bowl. Damn, Vika you had to ruin the moment did,t you! First time you manage to get someone who understands you, you have to mess it up!

Looking over slightly nervous resting a arm on counter for support, it seemed both of them would have to be face a few bumps to navigate before they got back onto smooth roads again.

---

@Lemons@RoccanIronclad

---

Aye, there was a little bit of stuff we wanted to do, just message me and I can work somthing out or have them meet up on thr next skip, or anything else you may think intresting. :)

I did not mean anything against you at all!

---

Joel Nicolosi

Apex Designs, Southside Sol City, 0400-0600

Eyes blinked open as the alarm sounded. The room was still pitch black and Joel had to feel around for his phone on the nightstand to quiet the 8-bit jingle that he always used as a wakeup call. It was 4:03am. He never set it to anything other than prime numbers. Groggy, he looked around and enjoyed the dark silence momentarily and prepared to break away from the warm grip of the bed. The upstairs remodel that was now his bedroom wasn’t exactly legal since the old office space lacked windows, but what the code inspector didn’t know wouldn’t hurt anyone, besides total darkness was about the only way he could really sleep. As the heat-pump churned happily in its low rumble he knew it had to still be fairly cold outside. He remembered hearing about a chance of snow flurries last night, but today was supposed to be warmer. He groaned and forced himself up, hoping the annoyance of snow would not put a damper on his plans. Tommy and the hauler would arrive around six. It was track-day and that was a good thing.

Standard morning routine was a shower and a shave, if he felt like shaving, get dressed, eat something, watch the news and read a few articles from his regular list of websites all while drinking copious amounts of coffee. As he donned his standard jeans, sneakers and t-shirt, he put on a retro gray Daedalus Air Cargo hoodie that a salesman had given him a while back. It had an old 747 freighter printed on the back that he liked and since they were nice enough to let them “rent” part of the old cargo airport for a few hours it felt in good taste.

Downstairs on the floor only his Jeep and the 300 sat in the dim moonlight that filtered through the skylights above. Glancing at the Jeep, he was glad he pulled it in so there wouldn’t be any snow or frost to brush off. Looking at the 300 gave him a different feeling altogether. The red, white and blue paint glistened back at him, spotless and perfect. It was a thing of beauty. True beauty. He thought. He checked his phone and as he often did when he was alone and had time, sat down on the floor in front of it and just looked at it. Da Vinci had the Last Supper, Michelangelo sculpted David, Pavarotti sang opera, Joel Nicolosi built racecars. He could remember when he bought it, back in high school, a bone stock non-turbo ’95 300ZX, from a lady who was a retired school teacher. She was the original owner and passed along the original bill of sale, owner’s manual and window sticker from Sol City Nissan to him. He had them framed and would often take them along whenever he showed the car. So much time had passed since then… friends, women, family members had all come and gone, but the car remained, always there. It went through its various transformations from a pure streetfighter to a GT class contender. Of course it was his connection with ex-Angels quarterback, Tommy Lomax, that allowed him to reach the world stage. Tommy’s money as an NFL star and entrepreneur opened many doors Joel would never have accessed alone: The state of the art transmissions, brakes, dampers and fuel cells that were required by the rules were extremely costly and accounted for over half of the car’s setup, not to mention the four brand new engines they negotiated out of the Nissan bigwigs.

Joel raised the door when he heard the diesel rumble of the hauler pull up outside along with the hiss of air brakes. The cold night air came through the shop giving him a chill. He watched as the driver, one of his customers who regularly drove a for freight hauler, very nonchalantly blocked up the street with the long truck and trailer. Traffic wouldn’t be a factor at 6am.

Tommy spared no expense on the elaborate truck and trailer and Joel found it a bit of a curiosity to spend so much on a top-flight hauler for a car that only competed in one major race every year. Tommy shrugged it off. When a boy got bigger, so did the toys! He joked. The bright white truck sported the logos of both business down the side of trailer, Apex Designs and Footsteps Sports Bar along with an aggressive looking shot of the car, the #75 and various other decals from sports, local businesses and motoring. Joel insisted they keep the old Nissan sun and bar logo because it ticked off the factory Nissan team tremendously. Proudly on the rollup door at the back of the trailer was another local business decal in large font, Danny’s Towing & Rollback Service – “Your local hooker”. Danny himself contributed about five total dollars towards the race team, but delivered cars to and from Joel’s shop regularly. The slogan was too catchy to pass up though, so Joel and Tommy stuck it on the back. It was always good for a laugh.

Tommy eased down from the passenger seat of the tractor meeting Joel’s hand in a firm handshake that morphed into a friendly grip competition and a brotherly embrace, “What’s up Han Brolo? How long you been awake?” He said. He was familiar with Joel’s bizarre routines and that there was no telling how long the mechanic had been awake. He glanced down at his sweatshirt and smirked a little.

“Couple hours,” Joel shrugged. He caught Tommy’s glance, “What is it?”

“Nothin’” Tommy said with a grin, “Let’s roll.”

Solaris County Regional (Old Sol International) 0700-0800

The hauler and assembled cadre of vehicles equated to something of a mini car show in itself. Lined up in various colors and styles, the vehicles of the #75 pit crew belonged to a combination of Joel’s friends and customers along with some of Tommy’s old teammates from the his professional football days. A sleek black Porsche, a bright yellow Lotus, a 90’s era Honda NSX, Joel’s dad’s more streetable 300ZX and others, many of which Joel personally tuned. The hauler’s trailer was unfolded into something of a kitchen, a garage and a camper all in one. A large tent was set up alongside where the racecar sat comfortably. Joel’s Jeep was parked close-by along with Lou’s big Toyota Land Cruiser rounding out the lot. The smell of fresh breakfast wafted from the trailer and spirits were jovial as everyone talked and mingled. Music from Joel's playlist thrummed in the background. It was all a pure bullshit session before the “work” began.

The sun was coming up and the eastern sky blazed in a bright orange beneath the broken morning clouds. Joel continued his steady flow of coffee enjoying it against the cool of the morning He left the breakfast to the crew- He couldn’t drive on a full stomach. Glancing out over the complex, half of the crosswind runway, the nearest taxiway and a portion of the tarmac were all theirs, already blocked off with cones and temporary barriers to simulate a race course. Being closer to the coast, the snow had already melted away and only a few patches of the pesky white remained. Unlike when they came out in the summer, the air felt fresh and clean. The car would run much better in the cold.

The main runways of 18/36 were still active and would remain so throughout the testing. The City and Daedalus weren’t going to shut down the whole airport for this little spectacle. However, there was plenty of space and Joel watched a smoky P-3 with a blue band over its fuselage touchdown in the distance. Those were the markings of Customs Department aircraft he remembered and recalled something about it on the news. The mayor was bringing in some help from the Feds to clean up the city. He shook his head at the thought. What was a little unusual was the air race pylons set up. They bobbed gently in the light breeze. He’d seen a little monoplane parked nearby, but paid it no mind. Someone else was apparently getting in their practice time today as well. Might be interesting to watch. He thought. He’d seen them on television a few times.

@PrinceAlexus

Joel's Playlist #4

City Travels and Old Sol Airport. Saturday Morning

---

Maxamillion Olympus walked slowly down the Isles as the British airways flight landed at Sol City International Airport, first class was always more comfortable but the trip was a effort for the old man still, a grandfather and Ceo he mostly let his daughters handle foreign trips but this one he wanted to make himself.

Though once taller, still proud and dressed in a tailored suit and long trench coat to keep warm in the northern winter, his granddaughter would be waiting at the helipad for him, already hired. At his families istence Marla had come with him, his younger daughter and a trained surgeon his health was more than handled. 5’6, blonde hair with blue highlights and brought blue eyes , busty figure and walking with a slightly different gait. Beneath a smart casual outfit and thick coat she hid a augmented leg. Having been badly hurt in a crash when young, she had recent upgraded to a leg that used a servo at the knee joint to appear as life like and human as possible. The faint sound of the system as she walked was hard to hear in public. Though not like Maria who was a near twin to her daughter in face shape, she still bore a good resemblance to her niece.

Playing slightly with a necklace as old habits were hard to break waiting , a thicker chain with good sized ice blue diamond, a gold and platinum bracelet on her wrist engraved with her anniversary and wedding dates glittering next to her wedding and engagement rings. Her husband had been generous, stretching his income as soldier so what. They had been good times years ago, times they now shared with there young son back in England.

Marinalia had woken up that morning, the heavy snow was clearing and though it was cold the roads were clear enough. Getting up and throwing on a outfit already sat on the chair in corner, jeans, a warm top and heavy leather and wool flight jacket embroidered on back with “Malin” in neat pink text, and a wide array of patches from other airlines worked for. Finished with traditional gold wings of a Pilot over her heart, and a pair of vintage aviators.

Some things never went out of style, finding a pair of knee high warm leather boots, she headed out to the landrover and texted ahead to say she was on way to pick them up. The sun was low and still rising in the winter morning, glinting off white snow. The city was quiet after the big party many would be resting or waking up next to a person who may or may not be as handsome as they first thought.

Pulling up at the staff car park and escaping the busy queues and long lines at the passenger section, she headed towards the pads and helicopter where her family waited at the small passenger lounge for private flights.

Happily greeting her family with hugs and catching up on events before heading up over to the helicopter sat on the landing pad and strapping in, setting up the mic and beginning to power up the engine and warming up the systems as the Co pilot checked the radio and confirmed the flight.

Taking off slowly easing the power up and breaking free of the gravity that held the mass of complex machinery down as rotars overhead picked up there full speed and soon where cruising at several thousand feet on the short flight over to the old cargo airport. The sight of the city rising high and sprawling on one side, gave way to open ground and forests. The snow was melted mostly but the cold forests where quiet below, the shapes of a few deer and other animals just visible in the shadows. From afar came the large tarmac and hangers of the cargo airport, used to working there Marilania noticed several things sat on the runway not normally there.

Concentrating on landing the expensive helicopter and her family members and dismissing them for now before slowly coming into land on a large area of concrete near the trailers and a bright pink air racer sat on a side apron near a hanger. Watching her rotor blades and the bunch of groundies on the runway, she began to dial down the power and clicked on the intercom.

“We have touch down at old Sol, please keep clear of the tail rotor…
I'm sure you know the rest!, ready, steady.. Camera time. ”

Walking out and across to the gathered crowds with her aunt and grandfather she spotted someone she thought she knew from… the race car. That was it. Followed by her aunt, the gentle hum of the servo downed by the sound of tools and machines, her grandfather watching out for the man whom ran the teams publicly side, where was that man… turning to her grandfather impressed.

“it's perfect. Should give the groundies a run for there money! ”

Walking over to the plane parked nearby and running a hand over the wing tips slowly and checking it over. The aircraft was in good condition, its engine under a access panel looked good. The plane was alot smaller than the DC7 she was used to but it would be alot better for the task at hand.

Waving over to Joel and shouting over, spotting the driver from abit ago. They had a long chat about stuff and traded jokes and seemed to get on surprisingly well.

Sipping from a overpriced coffee her aunt got her at the airport, having already texted her order ahead before she left that morning. White Choclate mocha, extra shot, vanilla, cream and mini marshemmlows topped with some Choclate sprinkles for Solbucks. A rather long list of ticks down the side and Mali written on the side.

“hey, seems we bump into each other again “

This time in customs flight jacket, vintage aviators with gold glittering wings, slightly different to the office wear of last time. Maybe he would recognize the long haired blonde woman who was say behind the cargo desk in clothes that suited her more.

---

@Pilatus

---

"'33. Roman goddess.' Ah, crap."

Kriss lowered his pen and furrowed his brow, staring at one of the few unanswered questions in this week's newspaper. Lately he had taken to tuning his brain as well as his body, and, since the newspaper was delivered weekly and paid for by the Sol City Volunteer Rescue Squad (i.e. home), he got a free workout for his mind every seven days. It offered a Jumble, a Cryptoquote (all the letters of the alphabet get mixed up and assigned to other letters), a Sudoku, and a crossword puzzle. None of them were particularly easy, especially the crossword. His lack of academic success coupled with a general disinterest in world events and television generally left about half of the boxes empty on the first run. But there's a strange thing about crossword puzzles; every time you come back to an unfinished one, you suddenly know one of the answers. Sometimes it's intuition, but for Mauser it was mostly from snap calls.

"Hey Snap, four-letter word for 'Roman goddess,'" he called without turning his head. A few doors down, a woman's head poked out into the hallway with a moody look.

"I dunno, Kriss. You tell me. How many letters do you have filled in?"

The voice belonged to Kelly Snapdragon, also known as Snap. She was the only other paramedic on duty for the night. At the moment she was more inclined to get her chicken and rice Tupperware dinner out of the microwave and into her stomach before they got another call.

"None. This week's is a three-star, so I only have a few. Do you want another clue?"

"Kriss, would you chill? I'm starving. I didn't get lunch and breakfast was, like, a cereal bar."

He resisted an eye roll as he flipped the page back to the classified ads, adjusting his position in the only lounge chair in the building so that he was more upright and less sprawled. It had been a disturbingly slow day, considering the party downtown. So far there hadn't been any dispatches but the night was young. He was dressed in his uniform and had already checked the ambulances for surplus and gear, but it was otherwise dead quiet, minus the beep of the microwave a few rooms down.

A few minutes later, Snap appeared, Tupperware in one hand and plastic fork in the other. She was already in a better mood, having eliminated about a third of the dish already. Her foul moods were invariably associated with meals (or lack thereof). She brushed her wavy brown hair behind her head and wrapped it in a hair band to form a short ponytail. If Kriss could hazard a guess, he would say she was in her mid forties, but the stress and trauma of her 20 years of service, stamped in silver on the badge she kept pinned to her front pocket, had brought along some premature strands of gray in her chestnut hair. She was the CO for the PFVRS and she was almost always on deck. Kriss didn't know how she found the time, but then again he didn't know anything of her personal life. All he knew for certain was that she was an absolutely brilliant medic, and that her temper was connected directly to her meal schedule. The unofficial motto for the past twenty years had been 'Feed the dragon.'

"My guess? Either Luna or Juno. They come up a lot in crossword puzzles," Snap said, reloading her fork. "But Spes is a Roman goddess too. Does it say anything besides 'Goddess?'"

"No," Kriss replied, writing the three names in the margin before flipping back to the jobs page. There was a long silence as Kriss checked the jobs and Snap finished her meal.

"So any luck getting an outside job?" she asked, wiping her mouth with a napkin and tossing it and the fork into the nearby trashcan.

"No, nothing."

"Have you considered lowering your standards?"

"I am pretty sure they don't get much lower than 'Janitor's Assistant,' but it doesn't look like I am going to get that without a Bachelor's degree," he replied dejectedly.

"Keep your head up. You're a bright kid, doesn't matter what the rest of them say," Snap sighed, laying back on the couch and reaching for the television remote. The silence was replaced by whatever cooking show was on their cable channel for the evening. Kriss ignored it. So did Snap, for that matter. She just didn't like silence.

Fortunately, the television was overridden by the alarm. The duo jumped up, simultaneously checking their radios. 911 call for a woman collapsing at the party. Snap grabbed her dish and slapped Kriss on the shoulder.

"You're driving. I'm going to grab whoever else is here. We're on the road in two."

Kriss nodded, rushing through the lounge door and into the wide ambulance bays. One minute and fifteen seconds later, Snap hauled herself into the passenger seat, clicking the garage door opener as she slammed her own shut.

"It's just us. Let's go."

---

The ambulance peeled into the parking lot, sirens wailing and lights lit. A woman in an evening gown was out front waving a phone wildly at them, which Kriss took as an indicator that they had reached their destination. He hit the brakes and locked the vehicle in Park as Snap jumped out. She clicked a side panel open and hauled a trauma bag out, then met Kriss at the back doors as they pulled the stretcher from the back and lowered it onto the pavement. Kriss turned and found himself face-to-face with the woman, who was on the border of hysterics.

"IN THERE, IN THERE! SOME LADY, I DON'T KNOW WHO, SHE JUST FELL OVER. THERE'S A FIREFIGHTER BUT I DON'T KNOW IF SHE'S OKAY, I DON'T KNOW, SHE JUST-"

"Calm down, ma'am," Snap interrupted, raising a hand and motioning for her to quiet herself. "Just show us where to go."

The three of them made good time, reaching a small crowd of people who were, as usual, fixated on a disaster. They were greeted silently by Ashton Griffone of all people @Silver Fox, who gave them a smile and stepped aside. She was a well-known firefighter (mostly through gossip, unfortunately), but Snap followed protocol anyway and checked for vitals and response to cues. Satisfied that the woman was stable, Kriss aided her into lifting the poor unconscious woman onto the stretcher.

"Everyone stay here," Snap said to the crowd sharply, turning to give them a clear view of her badge. A sense of authority often gave bystanders a sense of ease, and nothing helped more than a big silver pin. Without another word, she and Kriss raised the stretcher and rolled it to the ambulance. She helped him raise her into the back, then closed the doors and returned to the party. She was going to get some testimonials from eye witnesses. Hopefully Ashton, if she was still there. He glanced down at the glassy-eyed woman as he secured the stretcher to the floor.

"Is there any chance you know what a four-letter word for 'Roman goddess' is?"

@Poi

"C... Cobras!" Joseph whined in his sleep, moving from side to side in the chair. "Cobras with chainsaws... The assassins... They finally found me! Snakes for arms and chainsa-"

And then he leant a little too far forward, falling out of the chair entirely. Seemingly in a daze, his eyes blinked open, staring around at a room which quite clearly was not his alley.

"Huh... What? Where..."

And then he looked around the room, his eyes quickly focusing on Olivia, and his memories of the previous night returning to him like he was hit by a truck.

"Olivia!" He shouted, shooting to his feet so quickly its a miracle he didn't go straight through the ceiling. "Hey, are you alright? How are you doing? Do you want me to call the doctor? I should probably call the doctor. Are you alright?"

He barely breathed as he spoke, each question taking a second at best to escape him. However, after he finished, he realised that an onslaught of questions wouldn't really help her right now, and took a deep breath to calm himself down, slapping the sides of his face lightly. Once he felt adequately in control of his own thoughts once again, he turned back to Olivia, a smile that he hoped looked confident and reassuring on his face.

"Uh, sorry about that. I guess I just got a little nervous." He looked at the clock, which told him it was about five o'clock. "Well, at least you weren't out for very long. I was pretty worried you'd be down for longer..."

Joel Nicolosi

Music from the hauler’s ample sound-system continued to play and sitting in the car Joel paid no mind to the sound of helicopter rotors. They were at an airport after all. In front of him there was a small tablet mounted on the dash. His hands lightly held the steering wheel while thumbs moved over the small array of buttons and toggles built into the costly component. The steering wheel alone cost more than his Jeep with its various add-ons. Hooked up directly to the car’s electronic control module the screen before him responded to the various commands from his fingers. Brake temp, ignition timing, exhaust temperature and a myriad of other information flowed on the screen before him. His dad leaned over in the cockpit watching.

One of the problems with having a special built engine from Japan was just that, it was from Japan and so was its accompanying diagnostic software. None of the components were meant for distribution outside of Japan. Joel’s dad, an old school tuner himself, looked on quizzically and shook his head. “Glad you can read all that.” He said with a chuckle.

“I can’t read it all,” Joel said with a grin, “Just the important bits.” He didn’t consider himself fluent in Japanese, but looked at it more like the code from the Matrix. As the information passed by he knew certain things meant “Suspension” or “Engine Sensors” and when he looked at the numbers and the accompanying diagrams he knew when he was on the right track. Nissan organized their information in fairly logical and intuitive way when it came to their performance technology. He looked up in the mirrors to make sure everyone was clear of the exhaust. One of Tommy’s former linemen gave him the go ahead to fire it up. The fuel pump primed instantly in the green on his display and he held the ignition down noting the background sound of a helicopter seemed exceptionally close.

The engine hummed loudly like an angry hornet and Joel watched the display intensely as he gave it a few quick revs. The tachometer display reacted like a flick of the wrist with only a flex of his toe. Everything was in the green, aside from the tire temperature. The outside air had cooled them from sitting still. He glanced over at the extra sets they had stacked up all secure in their warming jackets. They’d be practicing pit stops once the car was warmed up and both he and Tommy had done a few laps.

Listening to the blissful sound of eight small cylinders responding to the lightest movement of his foot and staring at the diagnostic screen, Joel at first didn’t notice his dad’s hand nudging him at the shoulder, but a more firm push broke him from his trance. He looked up to see the man shouting over the sound of the exhaust, “Somebody’s here to see you!”

It took Joel a moment to come out of his happy place and lean forward to look past his dad. At first he didn’t even notice the woman standing right in front of him, but instead looked at Tommy very diplomatically meeting a small delegation near the helicopter. What the hell is he up to? Was his first thought before he locked eyes back with Marlin, slightly dumbfounded. His dad gave him a look of are you going to get out of that thing or what? It was a stern glance Joel was accustomed to since childhood that normally accompanied situations where he needed to move, now. He shut the engine down.

Hey, seems we bump into each other again

“Huh?” Joel said slowly making his way back to the world of normal civilized conversation. He was climbing out of the car. “Oh, Hey, yea… what’s up, chicky? You kinda surprised me. Wasn’t expecting visitors.”

Joel's playlist #5


@PrinceAlexus

Old Sol Airport race testing.
Saturday Morning

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Maxamillion greeted Tommy, indroducing his daughter before getting down to the business of the day, the race, the sponsorship and the pink air racer sat on the run way. Olympus heavy engineering had sponsored Sol City race for some years as a good way to advertise outside European region, this year though to distract from there previous issues, Polar star had joined them in backing a local team, hoping to change the naritive alot. Vesarian Romus pulled up in slightly battered rental car joining the group after waving to his daughter who seemed to be charming the competition. Tommy had presented a intresting opertunity but it was not time to see of he had a race winning car or of his talk was all hot air lik the kind filling up the air race towers.

The morning was fairly cold, coffee cups steamed but most of the snow was gone and sky was clear. The winds where low and seemed ideal for a what they had planned for this morning. Returning her fathers wave, she would have to ask Marla after about Vesarian and Maria. Had 20 years changed things or what. The cagey questions, asking after her and both refusing to give solid answers had everyone else's minds racing away.

Marilania waited Sipping her overly sweet coffee giving the car a once over as Joel climbed out of the drivers seat. A large race team, pit crew, it was alot more than one man and a garage affair."Chicky" would of been presuming abit much but she come to learn it was fairly harmless over in Sol, wait. Did he not know about the race or anything. She did not know the sponsor details, but she had been told about the fact she was there to race him.

hey. Seems your freind thinks you should talk to me!

Came out here to do a little air racing, first chance I've had to fly in over a week. Feeling too grounded! Also doing my Grandfather and Aunt a favour, needed a pilot they could trust.


So, he did not know?
Must be, on her glance over she had spotted the man who looked like he nudged Joel out thr car, was he related, they looked related anyway. Giving Joels dad a cheerful wave, she was in a good mood as finally had got back her flight status, low morning sun glinting off her gold wings and silvery thread in one of her various patches she had picked up on flight jacket.

so this is your Mona Lisa then?

Want to bet? Second place time pays for lunch?
Team air vs the groundhogs?

They finaly gave back my flight status, best morning this week!


Looking over to the air race pylons that imitated thr track somewhat, thr tall inflatable towers where rather large, and the last one or two where being finished up by a air pump on a pickup truck. Sipping her coffee and smiling, it seemed it would be a fun morning.

---

@Pilatus

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Milo chuckled a bit as Vika kind of clumsily made her way out toward him, until the photo fell. Where had that thing even been? Milo couldn't remember the last time he had even seen that picture, and surely couldn't remember why he had brought it along with him. He held out a hand and helped Vika along until she got to him and gave him a kiss, to which he reciprocated.

"Don't worry about it, it's an old picture anyway. When I left my last place, I didn't really take the time to go through everything and make sure I wanted to keep it all, couple of things I should have left managed to get brought along anyway."

That photo was definitely not something he wanted to have anymore so he went over to the shattered frame and threw it into the garbage bin. As soon as the sound of the frame hitting the bottom of the bin hit, Milo felt a twinge in his stomach, he knew that he was trying really hard to push his old life away, but was it really working? He shook the thoughts and went back to the counter and started fussing with his coffee press.

"I assume you would like tea? Otherwise I have a nice french press for coffee." Milo just tried to let the morning be a good one, A single picture wouldn't take that from him, not today.

Joel Nicolosi

So is this your Mona Lisa then?

“Indeed it is,” Joel said. There was palpable reverence in his tone as he leaned against it, looking down and running his hand along the window channel. His fingers glided smoothly over the polished paint. He was glad she got to see it after their conversation from the previous night if nothing other than just to prove he wasn’t completely full of it. “Bought it used when I was in high school, bone stock,” He said. “Took me nearly ten years to get it this far.” He crossed his arms and looked back at her ensemble, “Glad you got your wings back though, that office stuff didn’t suit you.” He looked over at Tommy again who was shaking hands and looking official and narrowed his glance slightly.

He smirked a little at her offer to race, “Yeah, maybe we can line up them up later,” He said with a shrug, “But I don’t race for free.” It was a line he used since high school, when he first earned a reputation for being fast on streets of Sol City. It weeded out the chaff. Racing cost money and he didn’t waste his time on those who were looking for pride or to simply see who was faster.

Tommy approached at a light jog, rubbing his hands together. Joel’s bullshit detector immediately pegged. The man was better at being a salesman than he ever was at being a football player. “You ready?” He said to Joel. He gave Marlin a once-over and grinned.

“Ready for what?” Joel said defensively. He kept his arms crossed.

“We’re going to have a friendly little competition in motorsport” Tommy said slyly.

“Who’s ‘we’?” Joel shot back.

“You and Miss Marinalia here,” Being silver-tongued as ever, he pronounced her name perfectly. “If you haven’t noticed these pylons have been set up in a specific pattern,” He said, “She’ll take off and fly the air-race course while you drive our regular road-course, first one across their respective finish line wins.”

“Well that’s about the stupidest thing I ever heard” Joel said flatly.

“Don’t be difficult, Joel” Tommy replied. He knew Joel’s moods well.

“I’m not being difficult,” Joel said, “I’m just not doing it.” At this point he didn’t care that she was standing right there watching them bicker. It was also evident that the rest of the crew had noticed the conversation growing more heated in tone in spite of the blaring music. Joel looked at the others that arrived on the helicopter and the oddball that showed up late in a rental car and asked the obvious question: “They got any money?”

Tommy attempted to grab Joel by the arm and lead him away to have the rest of the conversation elsewhere, but Joel childishly planted his feet and refused to move. Tommy leaned in to Joel's ear, “What do you think?” He growled.

Joel very nonchalantly reached into the car and took out Tommy’s helmet and shoved it firmly into the man’s chest. “I think you’re driving.”

@PrinceAlexus

The old Sol airport & The Final Round Armory . Saturday Morning

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Marinalia watched as he ran his hand over the custom built race car, from the sound of the engine earlier it was most definitely not running anything remotely street standard, yep. he was defenitely in love with that car. sometimes you could just tell, Wings, definitely happy to have them mean something other than a bad memory. Tommy was heading over, it seemed that the race was ready to go.

Yep, Well im sure the race will be worth your while.

Nope, it was not easy watching other people do the job you want to be doing, agh seems your friend wants you

The two seemed to be getting more and more heated over the whole idea of the air race, both refusing too give ground but Tommy had a tongue that seemed to pronounce anything without trying, and several pit crew, and her family seemed to notice the fraction. The plane was fueled ready and had been worked on half the night by a exhausted mechanic to have it ready to go, they where not canceling the race now.

Well im ready, Whichever you two decide wants to lose?

Guys? you want couples counseling? or is it parenting classes?

Confident, it had been a while since she had done anything like this kind of race but seeing them bicker slightly and argue, they would not have there full race heads on. a little bit of teasing might keep tat advantage a little longer. Her aunt heading over slightly slower as Versaian and Maxamillion waited by the helicopter leaving diplomacy to Marla, Rather clear English Accent obvious over the Americans.

Are we ready yet, we saw all your specs... No race, no money Gentlemen... we need to see if this machine matches up to the billing. Or shall i ask Marinalia to Fly us to centre point for Lunch?

Marla never was one to mince worlds being a doctor, and a sugoen at that. working in Trauma she had seen ernough blood, guts and bodily fluids than a person should, it would take alot to put her on the back foot.

Oh well may as well be Polite MR Grumpy Knome,

, Joel... well This is my Aunt Dr Marla Olympus, My Grandfather, Maxmallion is the man in the dark coat CEO of Olympus Heavy Engineering, and the one next to him, My father Vesarian who captains a ship for a UK and Russian shipping company.

Oh.. can you hold this for me?

Adding a slight Challenge to her into, She should at least introduce them and maybe things might be smoothed out, Joel seemed to just love cars, surely he would see Sponsors where needed. Race cars cost as much as planes, and Planes cost way too much money. Handing over her coffee in a keep warm cup to Marla while she was flying, doing high speed turns, coffee and electronics was a bad idea.

Turning to TOmmmey with a smile and a pulling her long blonde hair into a pony tail, reaching for a tinted visored full face helmet in a reserved and pale pink, with her name painted in a ornate script sat in the planes cockpit.

Well i have mine... if your ready.. I cut short the Winter time Ball to be here this morning.

---

Victoria was slightly nervous placing down the photo, he was too close to that woman to be anyone but this Ana maybe, an arm round her and seemingly happy moment from old times. Shaking her head at the offer of a hand and walking over unsteadily but by herself, he could not help her with everything and he might as well see the full picture of her. unsteady, scars and all. Honesty early on hurt less than several months down the line.

I can manage, thanks though. The real.. me. No miracle cures, just me, this is me now. I must have offended one of the three crones in a past life!

Feeling like she had finaly got that one off her shoulders, a slight wave of relief as he tossed the photo in the bin, it was probbly for her sake and such he did it but it atleast confirmed the past might not be snapping on there heals quite as badly as it had at the start of the ball. Her own past was not exactly perfect but atleast for now it was content to stay underwater and stop biting.

Ok.. admitly i probably still have a few old photo's at home... Long story short.. little miss gun runners daughter was not compatible with there career.

Though moving to a new city id say came with a bonus or two!

more positive to the end, yes things had gone badly but they where also on the up, long as little mr deathstar was too busy blowing up alderon and not aiming at them. Looking at a open door, racks of tools and machines visable in the dark of a workshop type area, that must be forge.

Tea... Lady Grey if you have any... YOul have to work harder to turn me to the bean side.

Use the strainer luke!

Least your commute is short form this address

Laughing and trying to turn the morning abit more posetive, the old picture still niggled and poked. could she match up to that woman in the photo? would things work out happily ever after or with a nacho hat and a tub of icecream? Only the three crones knew that and they where not exactly on her list of people she could text or email.

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@Pilatus@RoccanIronclad

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Joel Nicolosi

Joel paid no mind to Marinalia’s taunts. He’d been in enough of these situations to know there was no bragging until everything was said and done. Losing was bad enough, but losing and having to eat your words afterwards was even worse. He just let her run her mouth, same as he’d done with countless others through the years. What he could not tolerate however, was her pushy aunt inserting herself into the conversation and the fact that she knew things about his pride and joy that Tommy had apparently disclosed. His patience with the entire situation began to boil when she referred to the car as a “machine” like it was some piece of factory equipment. “Let me tell you somethin’ lady,” He said curtly. “I don’t give a flying fu-“

Tommy loudly clapped his hands together to cut Joel off and held them up in an attempt to clear the air visually as much as verbally. “It’s fine, we’re good.” He spoke with finality, “It was my idea, so I’ll drive.” Things were going almost exactly as he planned if he could just keep Joel from shooting his mouth off. At this point, whether or not he won or lost was inconsequential. Unlike his counterpart, his mind was on the bigger picture. He knew his guests weren’t so much concerned with the outcome as much as they could see that their money was going towards a viable candidate to win the race. All he had to do was try to keep up with Marinalia and post a respectable time. Just drive like she wasn’t even there. That was all they needed. If he even managed to pull out a victory that was even better. He knew they already believed she’d win though he wasn’t exactly sure how it was going to go down. In their numerous meetings and correspondence, he’d trusted them to come up with an aircraft that would make for an even match.

Joel caught a whiff of whatever coffee-themed travesty it was that Marinalia was drinking and coughed in disgust at the overly sweet smell. He shook his head and turned to unplug the diagnostic equipment from the car. Before the aunt or anyone else could say anything else he reached up and swiped a command on his phone that jacked the music up several more decibels. He took his helmet, the tablet and its accompanying cords out of the car without a word and proceeded to the top of the hauler where the regular crew-chief seating was set up. He sat down and put on a headset to listen to the ATC and their own crew-radio. From the top of the truck he had an expansive view of the whole course and he watched as Tommy headed out swinging the wheel back and forth to warm up the tires.

@PrinceAlexus

Old Sol Airport race testing.
Saturday Morning

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Marla gave him a cold look, they where the ones who there to see if the car was able to win a race, they where going to be spending alot of money and there name was going to be on thr car. On a car that failed and lost. They would look bad. Thw driver was asshole but tommey seemed to understand the odds and what mattered.

how polite. You guys want your money?

Remember to beat him Mali! Get thr

Heading off to join the others stood by the helicopter with binoculars, they had a good chance ce of winning at least, she was a professional pilot. He was a race team boss. Hopefully anyway. After his outburst she so wanted Marinalia to win.

Don t worry Marla!

Il take em!

Watching Joel storm off and head to the trail or she fired up the plane and began to radio and check runway clear before powering up and slowly beginning to roll before eventually hitting the gas and powering up noise taking off skyward past the trailor and government hanger before she was airborne.

Once the practice lap was over she began to hammer it down the straight run, through thr first gates a second or two behind the car and hitting the smoke triggers sending a plume of alternating red white and blue smoke from the tail genatorators. The first corner was behind the car, its engine was great in the corners, tighter turns and wheels gave it every advantage on the curves.

The aircraft hit hard into straights, swapping sharply from left to right and almost missing the 10 degree level of the pylon and clipping the top of one losing a second penalty. G forces hitting hard and constant changes aggressively flying on te edge of thr planes controls. Each straight she was gaining ground on the race car below, the engines power hammering into the main straight before the final set of corners and pulling ahead of the race car finaly, she had a second to gain before she won.

The final set of corners was intense and the aircraft flew hard and into the corners, forcing every little inch from the aircraft and cutting tight as possible on every bit. The last few gates passed by in a blur of motion, gates and rapid yaw tilts. Each one sharper than last and managed to finish the last turn before pulling away and going into a slower more relaxed loop round the airfield.

Even the experienced pilot was thrown off and the needed a few seconds to get her head back together before radioing to ground. Swinging in lower and looping over so the colours merged and racing over the area where race teams and others gathered.

ground.. What's the time on that run... 1.58.42 that's a win right... Win! Yes told ya Marla! Yes... We won, told ya team air will win!

Good race Tommy... Good race

Doing a loop then coming back in ground Control. Thanks for the heads up. Over ground control!

Knowing that Joel would be keyed into her feed, she added team air hoping he would reconise. Though not entirely impolite, she had to thank Tommy.

Looping round slowly and thinking that despite her fuel supply, she had plenty of time, began to being Into a controlled descent down to landing speeds and safely bring into line along the main runway.

Marla. Keep my coffee warm. Be down soon. Over.

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@Pilatus

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Joel Nicolosi

Joel watched Tommy approaching the hauler with a clear scene of disgust on his face. He knew what the man was doing and he didn’t like it, but there was nothing he could do about it. Tommy was playing on the singular button he knew he could push. Joel’s competitiveness was near poisonous, almost suicidal. He zipped up his racing suit with a deathlike glare. Lou, standing alongside with Joel’s dad gave the young mechanic a confident grin and a fist bump. Joel headed down the stairs to a scene of whoops and hollers from the rest of the crew enough to draw the attention of their more noble English morning guests. Joel glanced at them defiantly, grabbed his helmet and went out to meet Tommy.

Seeing Joel approach was the exact outcome for which Tommy had hoped. As a man that led sports teams his entire life, several to championship fame, he knew what motivated men. Joel was a little bit harder case as he’d never participated in anything that built comradery or team spirit. He had to be motivated by other means. Now we’re in for a show. He thought. Tommy smiled broadly inside his helmet as he came to a stop and peeled the window back. “What’s wrong buddy?” He said sheepishly and taking his helmet off.

“You tell her to keep that thing in the air.” Joel said darkly and shoved the radio headset in Tommy’s face. He had a murderous look that Tommy enjoyed immensely. This was a man ready for battle. Mission accomplished.

Tommy climbed out and put on the headset as he switched with Joel. He started towards the English delegation, but not before Joel dumped the clutch and covered them all in tire smoke and exhaust blast. Another prideful chorus went up from the crew as they watched the car head back out to the course after Joel’s little display in foreign relations. Tommy coughed and waved away the heavy white air that covered the group with a diplomatic chuckle. He was trying to restrain a smile as he spoke to Maxmallion. “Your grand-daughter is certainly talented my friend,” He glanced back as the smoke cleared seeing nothing but a red flash moving out over the field. “My partner wants to give it a go now.” He jumped on the radio and called the tower.

Joel didn’t need to check the readouts on the display. He knew when the car felt right. It was perfect. There was not a nut, a bolt, a spring, a valve, a rod or any other part of the car that he had not handled personally. He knew every single inch of the chassis and what it was capable of. Tommy just wasn’t up to the job. Either that or he wasn’t trying on purpose. Either way, he knew he could win. He could feel it in his gut. It crossed his mind briefly that she would probably be faster on the second run, having had extra practice and lighter on fuel, but he didn’t care. His whole life he’d lived for moments like these. Sometimes it came a quarter mile at a time, other times it was a streetfight that only lasted a few moments. This was what it was like to be alive.

“By God he’s already got it in the wind,” Joel’s dad said. He grinned with pride as he watched through a pair of binoculars. Joel thundered down the taxiway wide open towards the starting mark. Marlin’s plane swooped down with its characteristic howl right behind him as she headed for the first gate. Her form was on, sharper than before. Wings level, smoke out, she hit her first break-turn as soon as Joel’s brake lights lit up.

Joel slammed through the gears, each one launching the revs higher as he hit the first turn. There was never a half movement or a gentle arch. Every turn, every input on the controls was for maximum possible effect. When his foot left the brake it immediately put the accelerator on the floor, no in-between. He could feel the grip on the verge of sliding the tail. He was on the edge. The grass of the infield came up and was gone again in a flash. Gear, gear, gear until he was back into final. Another turn, repeat. The howl of wind came up over the car against the scream of the engine and was gone again. Hard turn, back in the throttle. Push!

The two courses crossed paths in the “center” of the apportioned raceway. A photographer would have grabbed a golden moment in time as Marlin crossed over Joel in knife-edge flight. A spurt of fire blasted from his exhaust as her prop turned in fury. He could hear her flash overhead. They broke away from each other in less than a half a second.

Joel sailed off the final turn feeling the rear end come around, but he stayed in it kicking up a small tuft of grass where the rumble strip ended. The finish line was directly ahead along with Marlin’s last gate arrayed in the classical checker pattern. She wasn’t there, but he could hear her, approaching fast and from behind. He didn’t look in the mirror. It was a drag race now. Same as all those times in high school. He thought. His grip on the wheel tightened to white knuckles under his gloves. Closer, closer, the line was nearly there. He could feel his pulse pounding through every ounce of blood in his body. She was right on his tail, lower this time than when she raced Tommy, getting every extra ounce of height for speed she could possibly muster. They blasted over the line and it sounded like her prop was right over his head before it peeled away.

“Hoooooly shit man!” Tommy shouted over the radio. “You got her by a nose!”

Joel exhaled what felt like ten gallons of air and sank into the seat as the car decelerated. He realized immediately that Tommy had indeed given it a hell of a go. She was definitely fast. His heartbeat was likely visible beneath his driving suit as he felt the adrenaline pouring away in buckets. He rolled up to their temporary paddock and spun a couple of donuts, sending the smelly white smoke cloud over everyone for a second time. He really poured it on this time.

“Damn son! I think you are made of hellfire!” One of Tommy’s teammates said hauling Joel out of the car. He barely had time to get his helmet off before he was mauled.

With the assembled celebration, it felt like he’d won the Indy 500. He brushed a mass of sweaty hair out of his face and looked up in time to see Marlin landing. Then he saw her big mouthed aunt standing there looking dejected. He couldn’t help himself: “Hey!” He shouted with about zero eloquence, “We’ll take our money, now.”

@PrinceAlexus

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Siobhan indeed danced with Sebastian, Ashton and Ren once he was brave enough. She wondered if he'd remember it. It go so late when she went to look for her parents they had already left. She thought this would be a good time to go. So she said goodnight and went back to her hotel. She was going to explore this weekend and see went was around and just relax.

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Walking down the street in deep green velvet leggings, chocolate brown ankle boots, a cream colored cable knit sweater, her hair fishtail braided and a velvet scarf that was chocolate, beige, orange, peach and cream in a random almost bark looking pattern; Siobhan explored the shops in her area. She found a gym with an indoor pool and got a membership. Swimming was always relaxing and a good way to keep her figure trim. She found a quaint little bakery and a few other shops that stood out. She was starting to like this place.