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In DELTΔ HYPER (An F1 Drive to Survive inspired Anti-Gravity, Slice of Life, Cyberpunkish/Solarpunkish RP) → 8 days ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
In Raven Squad: Second Storm (Military/Spy-Fi RP) → 18 days ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Boraro
Fireteam Hammer, Île de la Tempête
”I think that only applies to restaurants.” He replied to Skye. On second thought, that was to check if there was a fight going on, and it was pretty much expected. The helicopter hole was an obvious entry point. Too obvious, perhaps. Two Tricksters detached from Ebrima’s armor, one creating a perfect copy of Ebrima, the other of Skye, and headed into the breach, their entry immediately met with gunfire from the inside, matched a few seconds later by the authoritative bark of Ebrima’s shotgun as he went in through a nearby side door. ”Clear.” He simply reported, a bit of an understatement given that the room had three bodies in it, but only two heads. He detached one trickster and set it to follow Skye as they entered the payload assembly hall.

The Tricksters went in first, Ebrima and Skye at the end of the virtual stack as the decoys got lit up. He did not stop moving as he fired, the closest targets getting it first while Queen handled the other side of the hall. One soldier appeared out of a smaller room near him. Shotgun raised to deflect a bayonet strike, buttstock to the face to stun, jump pack assisted roundhouse kick to the head strong enough to send the helmet flying, dead check, moving on. No time was wasted, no quarter was given, leaving behind a trail of dead bodies, spent shells, severed body parts and hundreds of thousands of dollars of destroyed equipment. An electron microscope was not meant to be used as cover, nor parts of a weather satellite as a blunt weapon. With no one else around, Skye separated to clear an adjacent storage hall while Ebrima took a few seconds to stick several infected USBs into any running computers he saw. The silence of the room was interrupted by a cyclic, mechanical whirring. The sound felt familiar, like he’d definitely heard it before.


The sheet metal wall of the warehouse burst open with a loud crash. With two or three bounces, Ebrima eventually rolled to a stop by someone’s feet, too busy remembering which way was up to see who it was beyond recognizing they were an ally and letting them out of his mind. Pulling himself up as soon as he could stand up straight again, he wasted no time running back into the building.
”Back for more?” The raspy voice behind the helmet of the Artemis heavy who tackled him through the wall chuckled,”Don’t mind if I do.” He started approaching, all 240-ish centimeters of the guy closing in on Ebrima disgustingly fast while completely ignoring the 12 gauge slugs pinging off his helmet and bevor. ”None of that.” He croaked as he grabbed a hold of the Origin and pointed the barrel upward, ”There are fragile things-” Ebrima boosted up and with a single motion drew his kukri, severed the sling binding him to the lost cause shotgun and rammed the blade into a gap between the giant’s shoulder plates mid-flip, his momentum yanking the blade back out, the heavy’s grunt of mild discomfort and moderate annoyance masking the sound of detaching Tricksters. The Artemis operative turned, seeing three Ebrimas where he expected just one, the mirror images perfectly mimicking the original as they all slowly circled the Heavy.
”It doesn’t matter how many there are.” He grunted, the hall filling with the sound of a two-stroke engine as he pulled what could only be described as a chainsword off his back.”It’s just more meat for the meat grinder.”

All three Cameroonians moved forward at once, the first time they broke the unity. One leapt up, missing the gap between his helmet and bevor by a few inches, another went low, striking at the back of the knee while the third went for an elbow, the chainsword passing harmlessly through. A sharp pain in his knee let the heavy know which was real, but by the time he turned around they mixed up again. ”Party tricks won’t save you forever.” He spat, already having to fend off another volley of real and fake knives. A metallic clink sounded from the sword, a wide swing of it still catching one of the Tricksters and crushing the small drone like a meringue. Another brief exchange of feints and dodges followed before the Ebrima the heavy was fighting flickered out of existence, the Trickster returning to its slot to recharge, but it bought Ebrima enough time to reload the M 25.

A volley of thermobaric grenades briefly deprived the room of oxygen, wind rushing in through the holes in the walls to feed the flames. The engine sound cut out, but that was only a momentary respite as the heavy emerged from the inferno. Soaked by the fuel from the sword’s ruptured fuel line Ebrima had damaged earlier, he wasn’t just facing a giant anymore, oh no, he was facing a burning giant. ”Didn’t think that through, did you, little man?”
Then, inspiration struck. The fire giant went on the offensive, Ebrima now on the back foot with no decoys and limited weapons available and very little chance to get through the armor in a meaningful way. Before long he was backed up against a row of tanks along one of the walls, stumbling as he backed into them.
The giant saw a chance, taking off and covering the last half dozen meters between them at a sprint much like when he first sent Ebrima flying outside.

The fake stumble did exactly what it was supposed to, as Ebrima boosted away and behind a satellite on a nearby workbench. The giant’s momentum and injured knee worked against him as he slammed into the pressurized oxygen tanks Ebrima had directed him to and the warehouse shook with another explosion as the Artemis heavy operative’s still burning armor breached the tank and ignited its content, setting off the nearby ones in a chain reaction.


“Man, why do these gen threes take for fucking ever to boot up?” The first soldier complained as his hud showed the ‘checking for updates’ spinning ring. “Everyone else got gen fours weeks ago.”
“Because Rob’s dumb ass got caught stealing ammo and the whole squad got shitcanned for it.” Another replied as she was sliding magazines into her pouches.
“Motherfucker, you were supposed to be the lookout!” Rob raised a feeble defense as he slung a Benelli M1014 over his shoulder, “Where are the slugs, they’re supposed to be-”
The door to the armory opened, an unknown figure standing in it. ”Your company owes me a shotgun.” It stated flatly as the door closed behind.
In DELTΔ HYPER (An F1 Drive to Survive inspired Anti-Gravity, Slice of Life, Cyberpunkish/Solarpunkish RP) → 30 days ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
DELTΔ HYPER
Episode Six: Dark Side of the Moon


”Well, no issue of that here, Bea! In your preparations for the race, how have you and Ava been feeling about the setup for Luna?”

”We’ve had a few weeks to dial the ships in, so if we still don’t have it right, then we have a big problem elsewhere.” Bea chuckled, ”As far as sim performance goes, we’re happy with what we have going on. We’ve done a lot of work not just on the ships, but on ourselves so hopes are high for this week.”

Saturday May 22nd, 2094, 15:48 Universal Lunar Time
Mare Austral, Luna
Qualifying

Small maneuvering thrusters were firing all over the Carrera Condor ship’s surface to arrest motion in unwanted directions in absence of aerodynamic drag, the Skittles-colored and sponsored craft unnaturally bare with all the air brakes removed and stiff compared to Bea’s usual setup to account for the Moon’s peculiarities as it went over elevation changes. Inside the cockpit, the diminutive Briton was straining against the g-forces of the turns, acceleration and braking for the first time in the season and filling up the unofficial onboard with thoughts that couldn’t have been broadcast before ten in the evening.

Aside from Ava, she topped everyone who ran before her with a comfortable margin. Dorian, Astrid, Cassie and Hyeon-Ae followed, all placing behind her before Paul set a new trend. All in all a good performance despite their lackluster pilot augment integration, with the two exceptions of Dorian’s poor qualifying form throwing a pitchfork into the race predictions and Ava’s absolute flier of a lap.
DELTΔ HYPER
Episode Six: Dark Side of the Moon


”An impressive 9th place for you Bea- and wow, 5th for Ava! Stacked between Zygon and Valkyrie, how do you think you'll carry your qualifying speed into the race tomorrow, as it looks like your setup here seems to be dialled in?”

”Yeah, absolutely over the Moon with the qualifying performance! Or should I say ‘over the Earth’?” She pointed behind herself, roughly where the Blue Marble hung in the Lunar sky. ”Really good show by Ava today, I think even she was a little bit surprised by that, here’s hoping we haven’t gobbled up all our luck for the weekend.
We’ve seen the effect of teammates racing alongside each other - the power of friendship if you will - so both Zygons right behind me are a small concern. It will be a consistency game tomorrow, which sadly is Hyeon-Ae’s thing. But we have the pace over them, so as long as I keep my eyes forward and hit my marks, it will work out.” The Valkyrie ship clearly could outpace Zygon here, so all she needed to do was hold them up long enough for Dorian to catch up. Aside from relying on the French, it wasn’t a bad backup plan if she can’t get away from the Korean team on her own.


Bea Ward @MadBea:
[A point-of-view shot from Bea’s helmet camera taken during the qualifying inlap, left arm reaching out toward the canopy and pinching the Earth between her thumb and index finger.]
"I have hostages! The #18 Limited collection better sell out before the weekend is over or there will be consequences! 😛

And just in case it needs to be stated: Do NOT use the Chyron to watch movies while driving! Yes, it’s certified for in-car use, but that’s for sat nav.
Those I’m saying this for: You know who you are...”

#StyleInMotion #18Limited #Bay-Ran #FormulaAG #CarreraCondorFA


Carrera Condor NPCs
In DELTΔ HYPER (An F1 Drive to Survive inspired Anti-Gravity, Slice of Life, Cyberpunkish/Solarpunkish RP) → 1 mo ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
A collab with FourtyTwo / Starlance

Tuesday May 11th, 2094, 12:30
Avebury, United Kingdom
Cars and Chai
It was difficult to keep a low profile when you were as well lauded as Amy was, but then again, today of all day,s Amy was not trying very hard. Driving a 2018 McLaren P1 was hardly like it. The nearly century old machine was from her grandfather’s collection, an orange-painted sceptre that felt in Amy’s hands, like what a hot rod to a more contemporary audience, still felt every bit of hair raising to the half-Korean, half British racer. The hybrid screamed on the downshift, and even in spite of what were now oppressive speed limits, Amy allowed the twin-turbocharged V8 to scream for a little while, before quickly bringing the speed in, a gentle grin forming on her face.

And what an environment for go out for a Sunday drive in. The route to Avebury, in the green rolling hills of the Wiltshire countryside was at a Neolithic site, with lots of standing stones that put Stonehenge to shame. It was a great driving road, and given that most travel was routed these days via public transport, the roads were virtually left untouched, Amy’s skills easily qualifying for her to drive this thing without any autonomy.

And in the middle of it, literally in the centre of the old hamlet of Avebury itself was a classic car stop, at an old pub called The Red Lion that had now become Cars and Chai- a regular pitstop for anyone that wanted to enjoy old traditions of petrol-based cars rather than biofuelled anti-grav based modes of transport, rather the old risk new fangled racing that had come with it. Most importantly, the car fit where she was going. A place Amy wanted to catch up with Bea, given their schedules had missed for a while, to say thank you.

So, pulling into the gravel car-park, up to the mock-Tudor structure surrounded by big rocks, she kept her shades on and saw the supporting SUV-styled, 2085-produced make tail into the car park a while away, the quiet mid-day, midweek crowd not catching Amy’s figure. They likely would want autographs, but she’d made a private arrangement with the venue already to keep a table free, and most of all, quiet.
She had been watching. And well, she may have been dealing with her own portfolio of problems, but keeping that friendship alive was still important to her. No good deed unpunished, as they said.

Walking inside, Amy found a quiet booth reserved away from prying eyes, and took her seat, looking out through the hazy window at the rolling green hills that even over centuries had remained the same, still the same agriculture and yet still mostly covered in chalk, seeing the reflection of her carbon-composite hollow forearms, her black leather jacket and her jeans that contrasted against much of the manicured, hyper-competitive pilot that some would stack her up to be. It was nice to get out and about without a million cameras on her, be something a little different.

Out of all the usual traffic her Agent Ai pushed her way every day, a lunch with Amy Stirling wasn’t expected. Much less halfway across England. It was quite the drive, but what better excuse to take out your replica rally car than a trip to the countryside, once one had untangled themselves from London, with public transport having priority, no-drive zones and the rising Thames collecting its land tax. OK, it wasn’t an exact replica, as the sound that heralded bea’s arrival wasn’t the iconic tune of the Audi I5 engine, but rather a likewise identifiable Porsche flat six from a 2072 911, getting shown what’s what by the driver through the last few turns before entering the quiet village was anything to go by.

She let it idle for a minute after pulling in to let everything spool down and cool before getting out and making for the pub, taking a while to take in the scenery before entering, asking the first non-busy staff member she found for the table by name before making her way over. ”Two years I’ve been attending rallyes a stone’s throw away. Never knew this place existed.” She said by way of greeting, wearing a friendly smile and her usual aviators to go with a short sleeved t-shirt and dark blue jeans.

“Yeah, it’s not bad…..places like these keep the old ways alive, we just seem to be in a bubble sometimes. Good to see you again, Bea.” Amy smiled, walking across and giving Bea a hug, the embrace definitely strange even for Bea no doubt, given this was the person that at this point, most of the grid would have seen frankly having carbon-composite horns sprout from her head if they had anything to believe. Sighing, Amy took a seat again, beckoning Bea across, Amy peeling her sunglasses off and gently swiping her finger on the AR display on the table, looking over.
“My treat, by the way. Tea, coffee?” Amy asked, flicking through, looking over options.
“Good to have you here….and sorry I’ve been so busy and we couldn’t debrief sooner. This has been a long, long time overdue. But, I guess you’re getting used to this whole…..circus now. You have been busy too I guess. Jumping out of planes, snowboarding, damn, you must be addicted to adrenaline?” Amy quipped, giggling with no uncertain sense of irony, given that she had been much the same in her earlier career, and now, had moved onto some much more significant personal endorsements.

A heart, from a Silver Apex employee? What sorcery? Bea stifled a giggle as she quickly adapted to the hug, likewise doffing her shades. ”Nice seeing you off the clock again too, if unexpected.” She said as she scrolled through the tea selection, having less of a ‘metal devil’ view of the fellow Brit as much as the racing equivalent of a corporate drone.
”Makes sense. You’re busy staying at the top, I’m busy trying to claw my way up there.” The younger driver grinned, ”Yea, Eva got the patient genes. And a lion’s share of the wisdom pool. I can sit still when I’m old and boring.”

”What’s long overdue is a thank you. Gave us a good leg up from the get go.” Even if someone’s teammate immediately fucked it. ”But we’re not her to talk shop, are we? How’s life away from the cameras?”

Amy chuckled, hearing that comment about the leg up. Amy knew her people had made some changes, and well, Carrera’s engine had benefited immensely from the remap, a partnership that was a debt repaid from Bea’s father’s old sponsorship of the team that had now transferred into Carrera. Despite the change in the world, nepotism always remained….

“Well, you helped me, I helped you. Life is good. I have sponsorship commitments of my own than usual. More than I planned. Always goes that way. But, it is what it is. I suppose you’re keen for now, and while you can, enjoy it.” Amy added, swiping on a latte for herself, pinging the AR display across to Bea to have a look, as she stared out of the window for a moment back at Bea’s car, before back across to her fellow Brit.

“How about you? How are you finding it all? I suppose you got a taste of points. That, and everything else that exploded on your socials, I can’t stop hearing about it. Don’t worry, it’s not jealousy. Just really impressive. I’ve never seen the hype for a new pilot like you. And for what it’s worth, it makes me pleased you have a ship to match.” Amy commented, the surface level giving way to a gentle poke that she was making, yet keeping it light.

There was a hint of a sour hint in Bea’s expression at the mention of hype for a new pilot before the neutral friendly expression returned. Nepotism indeed remained, and whatever anyone could say for her talent or results, Bea always reminded herself that that was the first and second reason she had a seat. Although being so focused on getting a seat that she completely neglected any backup plans for the 2093 season until it was too late lay squarely on her shoulders. ”More of the same, but bigger.” She shrugged, ”Flights to Argentina aren’t fun, but it is what it is. Portugal fucked us a little… a lot, but there’s plenty more to come, so I’m not worried.
Are you?” She returned the poke, referring to the other hemisphere ans she added a green tea to the cart.

“You’re telling me. I had my fucking neural link pulled for a hundredth of a second. I don’t believe it was a glitch. No way. When I find out, that person’s getting more than a helmet thrown at them. And we are working on it.” She replied, sighing, disappointment more than anger coming through.
“The top level’s a scary thing, as you probably learnt yourself. As much as Jamie made himself a twat, you paid for it sadly. It happens. Nobody has your interest. Not even your team, sometimes. So pressure exists. More than just to keep your seat. Winning it all is what you grow up wanting, and it’s what you need to keep on delivering. It really is as simple as that. Or points. Whatever it takes.” Amy replied, watching the staff make some brews, some catching sight of the two AG pilots in a booth, chatting amongst themselves but trying to make no scene, hiding it poorly. Amy was no doubt getting Bea’s attention there, the smirk in her face telling.

“I’ll get them back. Al-Saqr’s up to some weird shit, Layla seems out of her usual, way more than she should be. Harrison’s the same as ever, but Nora is….well, she’s just incredible. Don’t tell her I said that. Raw talent, but how long will those two last when they can’t decide who wants first? The title can’t be shared, after all. We’re all a bit greedy here.” Amy quipped with a giggle at the end, hearing the waitress come over with two cups, placing them down, a side of very, very sugary Midget Gems in a bowl also joining the order.
“It always comes back. Keeping first is hard. Pressure can’t be removed out of your brain. Those chemicals we don’t know about yet.” Amy replied as she sipped down some coffee, looking back across the table.
“Caffeine we do though.”

”I think those were my exact words, yep. But it’s water under a bridge. And there’s other crashes taking the forefront now.” Bea nodded along when Amy indirectly called Jamie a twat, ”Yea. I mean, obviously I’m not against augs, but any cyberware that messes directly with your brain…” She shook her head, ”Standard neural links have at least been field tested for years, but some people don’t know when to stop. She’s got junkie energy. Cyberware and Luna alike.” She chuckled.

Amy giggled, hearing that comment. She didn’t want to disclose just how much hardware and software she was running under the hood, but she hid that a hell of a lot better than Layla did. A hell of a lot better.
“Well, she does love Luna. I’ll give her that one. Just lacks the….fire elsewhere. The machine can’t be perfect when it has tells.” Amy quipped back, smirking as she sipped down some coffee, knowing Bea would appreciate her comment about Jamie, leaving it there.

Bea took the cup with a thank you, testing the temperature with her lips before setting it back down and switching to the candy for the time being, letting silence hang for a second or two before breaking out in a giggling fit. ”I won’t tell her, but it won’t be free. You probably won!t tell, but I have to ask: What was the mood in the team like when Jamie got beaten by Jen? Paint me a scene, just a hint. Quiet household?”

“Awkward. But he was at the back. And he put himself there. In a ship proven to be title winning. So he’ll need to go better next time. Shame he can’t join me on the podium.” Amy was brutal back, sipping down more coffee, nonchalant as anything, as she leaned against the wooden baton, taking in the measure of Bea, knowing she got her answer paid there.

“It happens in teams. Form is temporary, class is permanent, yadda yadda. You’re lucky to have a good team-mate in Ava. Jen seems to be coming off to a nice start herself, too. You two kept me entertained when I watched the Junior AG streams.” Amy replied, making an observation classic as all time, but not hiding her thoughts. It was Jamie’s job to improve, after all. And on paper, the ship Silver Apex provided was able to win constructors’s and pilot’s championships.

“Thank you for the collab stream on that auction, by the way. Cass dropped me a line about it actually, she was super chuffed with what you did. Then again, I imagine things got awkward back in Tokyo about the painting that Dorian bought….between him and Cassie, there’s bad blood. Probably don’t want to hear the paddock rumours, but that was ringing in my ear at the end of last year, I’ll tell you that.” Amy chuckled, sighing as she sipped more coffee down.

”Their bad blood’s their business. If they wanted me to know, they’d tell me.” Bea stopped Amy with a raised hand before leaving the topic, doing a theatrical bow when Amy mentioned watching Junior FA when she raced.

”No problem, and let’s not pretend I didn’t have my own reasons to do it.” She shrugged with her usual honesty, ”You’re right with Ava though. We’re Yin and Yang in all the right ways.” Now Cassie, there was one whose team and maybe even teammate Bea didn’t envy. ”Big help on ELS and the Moon alike.”

“She’s like that. Fierce girl. I’d not want to fuck with her, but still has that mentality. So yeah, could be worse.” Amy used classic British understatement, sipping more coffee and grabbing a handful of sweets, “She’s always been capable of more. Guess this year is that year. Even if not Portugal.” With that, Amy was leaning back in against the padded seat with a little thought on her mind, changing the topic gently..
“You feeling good about Luna?”

”Two, three years, we’ll be right up there with you, don’t worry.” Bea grinned back at the three time champion, ”Year, maybe. Last race, definitely not. I mean, fuel injectors? In an entire engine, the part that fails is the one with three moving pieces, seriously?”

”Feeling excited, never been. And we have a good hand, despite our augs being what they are. I think I’m still betting on the Kiwis though, no offense.”
Amy rebuked that with a giggle, sipping back more bitter coffee. “Pfft, Harrison prefers the solid earth to the Moon. It’s trickier than some think.” Amy dryly replied, nodding to her earlier comment.
“It happens. Had a nasty one in Junior AG. Sticks with you, for sure..” She commented further, before putting the cup down.
“I’m sure you will. Progress well You sound keen on the project? I mean, ask me in Round One, I’d have been surprised. Carrera was as you probably know, a bit of a political mess for a while. So someone must have pulled something together this year. Had to happen eventually.” Amy commented, merely observing the obvious, but prying away at Bea a little on that one.

”Carrera Condor, Valkyrie, every time you have multiple countries cooperating, it will inevitably either begin or end in a dumpster fire. Does my dad have stories from back when a few European countries tried to design a light interceptor together and Pridwen was a subcontractor.” She shook her head, ”Right now it looks like we’re the former, and as far ago as pre-season testing I wouldn’t have believed it either. But if you have people whose hearts are in it and decent funding, they’ll pull through.” She took a sip of her tea.

”But since I have you here and you’re sharing, what do you make of the Engineer Musical Chairs?” Bea giggled, ”Don’t see that mid-season often. I was going to quiz Paul about it a little, but then the Valkyrie dumpster fire flared up again…”

Bea’s comment got an eyebrow raise out of Amy, and a gentle giggle.
“Felix? Oh, no it doesn’t happen often. But I suppose after what went down, I’m not shocked. No matter what Knight does, contracts are contracts, and well, corruption reaches in when there’s this much money in this sport. To his credit, he made a principled stand against it, is my understanding. Like you said, the Europeans sometimes find their way to make things more complicated.” Amy chuckled, sipping more of her brew, putting it back.
“I suppose belief is one thing. And it puts your team on the map. I noticed it in Ava too….you’re definitely a driver behind that. Maybe I will need to worry about you after all….but trust me, that crown’s heavy.” Amy smirked, sipping the rest of it down, putting it back on the saucer, paused by thought.

”Maybe I’ll pull a Rosberg on you. Steal myself one title and retire to do something more fun?” Bea teased with a bit of history.

“You get that then, fine, but you gotta earn it. I get to be a Starcross.” Amy replied with a barb and perhaps her own overinflation of her own ego, knowing Bea almost had no uncertain doubt of her, the name bringing back a thought.
“You ever met her? She is so funny. Like, she’s 80 but she is still hysterical. She would drive that P1 faster than me. I do not get what that old lady is made of. She actually lives up in Hackney at the moment, of all places.” Amy paid her own homage back, taking a handful more of sweets from the small pot for herself, pouring a bit more out from the remaining teapot of coffee into her own.

Bea laughed out loud at Amy’s reply. ”Alright, that’s enough racing sacrilege for one day.
The Mouton of our time. Never had the honor. Just Florence in Portugal.” She shook her head. ”To the greats.” She raised her cup in toast.

“To the greats.” Amy smiled in reply, clinking cups, and with it, sipping it down.
“You are gonna be out of control when you get a podium, aren’t you?” Amy wisely quipped, knowing she’d started something in Bea that she was never going to get back.

”May our names be among them one day. Preferably not posthumously.” She added, acknowledging the difference between the names mentioned and even someone like Amy.
”Out of control? Little old me? Perish the thought.” Bea pointed to herself with faux indignation, ”One way or the other, that’s a bridge I’ll cross when I get there. Sure, there is the ‘P3 WRC’ incident that I refuse to talk about, but last I checked, bars survived Nora’s first win, so there’s nothing to fear, right?” She added in jest.

”Sure.” Amy simply replied back, sipping more of her brew again, seeing the gentle drizzle pick up outside now, the relatively nice day turning into a briefly crap one, as was the weather in England. Nothing but a gentle sigh to reply with, as Amy ditched her leather jacket in favour of her pale red top.
“Well, at this pace, I’m sure it’ll happen. Between us, things do change fast in this sport. Just don’t miss out on any opportunities is all I’ll say. Taking that top spot is scary, you’ll need to hunger hard if you want it. My dad used to absolutely beast me in the karts when I was young, the amount of neural stuff I did when I was young….shit, I forget it now but man it sucked back then. Cannot imagine what kids go through now. Got me here though.” Amy mused, more of an open commentary, revealing perhaps a more vulnerable side than she ever would in front of a camera. The nemesis of the grid almost as if she showed a gentle, surface level crack to Bea there and then.

She let the more experienced driver speak, picking up food for thought to sort through on the drive back, the loyal bone in her body clashing with the opportunism often required in fields such as theirs. ”Well, it changed for the better fast, now I’m hoping I’ll see the other change before it slaps me in the face.” Bea shrugged, ”But if we knew what’s coming, life would be boring, wouldn’t it?” Getting philosophical and they weren’t even drinking.

“Keeps it interesting.” Amy quipped back, sipping more down, before putting the cup down again.
“There might be some more opportunities for us on the horizon. Some more clout and behind the scenes for us in particular. FIAR are thinking of some celebrations at Silverstone when we’re back in the UK. I’m tapping up Cassie for something, Paul would probably be keen too. Some old classics might be open for us to try. The sort of thing that money can’t even really get. Want me to let you know when it goes down?” Amy asked, knowing the answer would be an obvious one- but still, wanting to put it across.

Bea was nodding enthusiastically even before Amy finished speaking. ”Keep me in the loop, yell if I can help.”

“Thought so. Just thought to confirm unless you had your schedule full. Just in case.” Winking with a grin, Amy finished her second cup, pinging it over, before flipping over the phone across the table.
“Question is, do you want Starcross’s ‘59 car or Hamilton’s ‘20 car?” That was a decidedly more pointed question, as Amy slid her personal phone across the table, with the spreadsheet on it for names to each. There was perhaps a little insight that Amy maybe had a little to do with the admin on this one, or at least, a string to pull.

”Not all of us are superstars, I still have some vacancies, especially for something like this.” Even if her calendar had been full, it wouldn’t be after that invitation. She pondered the question for a few seconds. It was a serious one, but then she looked back up at Amy with a mischievous smile. ”Someone said she’d get to be a Starcross.” She said as she assigned her name to the 2020 Mercedes AMG machine, a hint in her voice that maybe she would’ve picked the other option were it not been for that earlier statement, whether it be out of respect for the older driver thinking that was the car she wanted more, honoring the unknowing dibs or a small step to making that statement true up in the air.

Amy raised her eyebrows, but nodded, with a certain kind of respect, agreeing and knowing Bea played her there.
“Knew you were a sucker for the classics.” Amy giggled, claiming her phone back as with it, she put it away in a pocket of her leather jacket to her side, before addressing Bea again.
“Silverstone is crazy. You know it from Junior AG. Just wait till you end up there. Big festival, as I’m sure you know. They bring you in and give you a proper announcement on the Saturday night on the stage, British drivers in particular, they go mental for. Makes you feel like a star. And trust me, you never get used to it. Home crowd and all.” Amy seemed almost to be leaning into a certain kind of lookout for Bea here, knowing that it was almost without saying. But worth a mention anyway, more than most.

“It’ll be a good one. But then there’s Monaco before that….and Monaco….” Amy put her fingers to lips, a chef’s kiss and a smirk back from the platinum blonde making it clear.
“In an AG ship it’s perfect but good luck passing. I heard Astrid already has a yacht party planned. When she bins it at Mirabeau and wants more gin maybe she’ll go direct. I mean, fair. I’d drink with her too. She parties HARD.” Amy commented, leaning back and knowing no doubt, Bea had seen the history, and was about to go live this.

”I may eat my words later, but I think I’ve got a handle on fans. Could give you some pointers if you wanted.” Bea teased, calling back to the start of their conversation before Amy mentioned Monaco. Tight circuit rewarding handling and stability. ”Valkyrie will be insufferable over there, won’t they?”

“Fans are easy enough. The connection just becomes a little number when you end up winning titles. It’s a bit difficult to stream as often given commitments. But I find time too. Keeps it all smooth.” Amy replied, rather candid, going back to Monaco.
“Oh, they will be. But we’ll just have to see. Circuit requires perfection, nothing less. It’s everything as good as you think it is.” Amy’s lips turned into a curling smile, sitting up in the chair, looking across at Bea, taking in her confidence, the silver-haired veteran thinking about something else she’d had on her mind, the waitress coming over and interrupting that thought as she took the cups away, as Amy leaned in, changing the topic.

“So, this is a bit of a strange proposition…based on pointers. You seem to have something about you, Bea. So if it’s anything, I’m happy to mentor you a bit. Help you out here, given what you saw with Valkyrie is probably scaring you, as is Zygon at the moment. You might be good with fans. But if you want to win titles, I can show you what it takes. And no AI programme, learning course or training module can help you with that. I was groomed to perfection and believe me, it was terrible. But I don’t think it has to be that way. I think there’s something else we can do.” Amy opened up, resting her artificial hands on the wooden table, contrasted against her pale-like skin at the joint that seamlessly seemed to blur.
“You have a good setup at Carrera to show off what you can do. So at the least, if you know fans, then let me help you with politics and flying. That bit I can show you. And then some. I would like to mentor you, Bea. Us English pilots need to look after each other.” Amy returned a smile back, the words coming difficult, the phrasing coming out all a bit wrong, yet somehow, against even her own selfish judgement and want to succeed, knowing Bea was really quite genuine here. Yes, she was British too, that bias held firm in her, but in another way, somehow, Amy knew that with all these titles, all of what she’d done so far, that was autopilot to her- but helping someone else, that would be a reward to itself, something she wanted to do and didn’t mind there was likely to be no reward at the end of it. She almost saw a bit of Bea inside of herself, the four artificial limbs among other its demonstrating a want, a commitment to that top level. And Amy must have felt something in that moment, because she wanted at least to do something else than just drill into everything she was at her core. Victory at all costs suddenly felt like it had perspective, because Bea had it all on the line too to stay in her seat.

”Valkyrie isn’t exactly scary at this point. It’s just sad and infuriating.” ‘Makes me want to throw up in my mouth.’ was also something that would’ve described that scandal well, but Bea had enough corpo background to sort that out in her head. Though Amy was right with Zygon and Al-Saqr, they were being weirdos.

As much as she did her best to hide any doubts about those, the next thing out of AMy’s mouth hit her from a blind angle. ”I, uhh.. I mean.” She stammered before her brain got traction again, ”I have someone for that, but another opinion from another angle can’t hurt. I suppose it depends on the price.” The thought of juggling hand grenades was still there, but so was the vision of gain. Back to not being sure whether she was being manipulated or not, great.

”And be careful playing the English card.” She recovered fully, back to her usual ways, ”Half of me is a grease and freedom-loving, red-blooded American, remember?” She chuckled.

“And half of mine is Korean. Still share a strand.” Amy quipped, letting her think it over, nodding in return with agreement.
“No price for it. Normally you’d be right, I’d have some reason to it, but I have a heart, Bea. May not be real. But I know what it was like. And that I’d appreciate someone in my corner if I needed it. I see a little of myself in you in that way..” Amy replied, knowing this was going to take Bea by a surprise. A pleasant one, Amy hoped.

”And there’s the price.” Bea grinned mischievously when Amy mention someone in her corners, ”But it’s one I think I can afford. Just please don’t ask me to smile and nod next time the stewards are cooking out of water.” She answered with warmth, filing away the hinted similarity to unpack properly later.

“You do you, Bea. We’re here to grab titles. But after that, we’re still people. Even if the media makes us out to look…..different to how we are. They made me and Harrison look like we were scheduling a cage fight. I mean, sure, we may not be eye to eye, but…..there’s more than meets the eye.” Amy shrugged, thinking back to it.
“He’d win though which is why I didn’t. But anyway……” Amy added with a giggle, thinking back to Hans’s off-put comment in Bonneville last year, one that had become a meme in their rivalry, albeit had been since filed away in the archives of shit-talking that came and went.
“Happy to help you there I guess, if you have anything planned, or just need to talk. I appreciate you coming out here. There’s plenty of good roads around here if you want to explore too!” Amy chuckled, looking back out at the cars outside, joined by another 2074 produced McLaren, that was rolling into a spot next to Amy’s- gathering a small cluster of people taking pictures of it now they’d realised the numberplate and the uniqueness of it.

Thursday May 13th, 2094, 16:48
Buenos Aires, Argentina
The Ranch
The centrifuge spooled down and came to a stop, the technician opening the hatch and helping Bea out of the pod.
”Nevermind all the bad I have to say about liquid immersion, it’s worth it.” Bea said in response to Ava’s amused look at the state of the brit, ”Bloody Hell…”
”But now you’re not used to the gees having an effect.”
”Yup.” She agreed, trying to adjust to the fact that her arms and head now weighed their actual mass times the planet’s gravitational acceleration as opposed to several times that. ”Right call advocating to let this one be yours.”
”I don’t know. The last two times you gave up on a race, you did great.”
Bea sat in silence for a second, realizing Ava was actually right. ”Maybe if I tell myself it’s a lost cause, it’s less stressful and I make fewer mistakes?”
”Maybe you descend from Merlin and ‘I give up’ is an incantation?”
“Burn the witch!” A passing engineer cackled.
”Well, whatever it is, you jinxed it now.” She shook her head with mock indignation.
“Ms. Wa- Bea?” The man in charge of the centrifuge called out from his control booth, “You’re up again.”
”I don’t like that guy.” She shook her head, ”You shouldn’t be such a workaholic if your job involves moderate torture, that can’t be right.” She grinned.
”Don’t forget to put your eyeballs back in the sockets.” Ava called after her.

Friday May 14th, 2094, 11:15
Buenos Aires, Argentina
The Ranch, cafeteria
Two pilots, two race engineers and two chief mechanics sat huddled around the table, laughter and the occasional expression of disbelief erupting from the group.
”So me and two other flight leader candidates are mission planning. We’ve been at it for an hour and still going nowhere. Then the mission commander walks in ‘Hurry up, I need the flight plans, we’re already late.’ We looked at what we had, it was all a big mess, we haven’t even gotten to the block plan-”
”Block plan? What’s that?” Rey asked.
”Every flight has an altitude block assigned to it. Like, for example 10 000 feet, that’s ‘10 Block’.” Ava explained, ”So we made up the block plan as we left the room. Turns out…” She started giggling, ”We put the Ikeyas in the 40 block!” Bea and one of the mechanics joined the laughing, the mechanic a combat flight sim enthusiast and Bea generally aware of what Pridwen designed fighters were capable of. ”The 40 block! Weasel flight is in the bozosphere, barely holding on with their stubby little wings and one engine.” Ava soldiered on, talking through fits of laughter, ”Their number four was lagging six nautical miles behind before opfor even showed up, one called Bingo and went home before we even started and when they tried to threat react, they couldn’t go over four Gs. Then the Four got yelled at in debrief for being out of formation.” The entire table was laughing now, the feeling of someone else screwing up and you getting yelled at over it a universal human constant. ”Meanwhile we in combat air patrol are having the time of our lives in 20 block. The Antari practicing suborbital strikes are looking down on these poor bastards, wondering if they should help them or put them out of their misery.”

A ringing phone interrupted the story. ”I’m sorry. Carry on.” Bea excused herself and stepped outside the room as Ava continued the story.
”Yello?” Bea picked up the call, the voice of Peter Hayes coming through the line. ”The sunglasses company? ...What about it? ...Buuuut Valkyrie had a Valkyrie moment and they don’t want to be anywhere near Paul or anyone else now? …I don’t hate hats! Sunglasses just look better. ...Send it my way, but I trust you didn’t see anything off? ...They don’t want me to wear anything that was meant to go with Valkyrie’s other clothing sponsor, right? ...No, nothing against it, I’m just not exactly who you get to advertise formal wear. Plus we’ve always been a Kingsman Tailors family. ...Sounds great. I’ll let you know when I’ve read it. ...Bye for now.”

Friday May 21st, 2094, 10:12 Universal Lunar Time
Mare Austral, Luna
Apollo Hotel
”Hello, and welcome.” Bea greeted the audience, camera held in one hand, slowly bouncing on her feet, almost hitting the ceiling at the apex of every arc. ”I love how they made the ceilings high here because they expect people to forget where they are. Forward thinking. As you’ve probably guessed, we’re on the Moon!” She bounced off sideways, clearing the bed in one jump to get to the window to show the view, but overcooking it and soaring right past the intended target.
”So, first impressions from space.“ She played it off casually as if she hadn’t just nearly faceplanted into the wall, ”Apparently I’m among the 50% of people who suffer from Drop Sickness in microgravity, that came out of nowhere.” She made a sour face, ”It was awful, and those were apparently the moderate symptoms. I mean the insult of being essentially sea sick while simultaneously the furthest away from any known body of water you can be. What the Hell, brain? Fortunately that was just the SSTO, everything else has artificial gravity and I do not want to imagine that trip if that hadn’t been invented.”

”But I was recently reminded about a discussion I saw over on Discord about how in the past drivers weren’t allowed to do dangerous things - Leclerc couldn’t skydive, Verstappen couldn’t go skiing - meanwhile we went and did both as part of our sponsor commitments. It’s eased up a little since those times, but León is still pretty insistent on us not doing anything too risky - might have hired the wrong drivers, then - or at least tries to be. Because if you thought - and I did - that he wasn’t happy with the skydives for Fujikura, boy, oh boy, you should’ve seen his face when he learned the Pridwen ads dad wanted Ava for included an aerospace fighter.” She snickered, León’s silent panic followed by resignation playing in her mind’s eye. ”If you are outside at night around this time, and you look up at the moon and something really bright is blinding you, that’s probably Ava grinning ear to ear.” Bea smiled.

”One final note, this race won’t be streamed live. For obvious reasons. For the sadists among you who are looking forward to seeing me actually experience the Gs for once, you’ll have to wait a few days for the edited upload as usual. With that said, practice in an hour. Tune in then.”

DELTΔ HYPER
Episode Six: Dark Side of the Moon


Carrera Condor once again benefited from a partnership with a defense company, Pridwen simply having dug up actual space suits meant for combat pilots, removed unnecessary features and replaced some materials with lighter ones where durability wasn’t needed anymore to shed half their weight. A combination of a rigid torso and helmet with skintight limbs made for a mostly comfortable and unencumbering suit while still being able to take a hammer blow to the chest and allowing the use of high pressure breathing mix without complicated additional aids. Ava probably felt like wearing old skin.

"Bea, great to have you here. With your fans out in force in Portugal, how do you feel at a race that they aren't able to physically attend here at Mare Austral?"

”Great to be here.” Did Aurora ‘have her here’ since she very clearly wasn’t ‘here’? ”A race without fans is like a footballer without a leg. Of course it’s an amazing location, but you can tell there’s something missing here. Especially since I came up through rally, where we have a very close relationship with the spectators.”

Cut. The onboard camera was between the seats of a rally buggy looking out through the windshield as it hurtled down a gravel road, a text briefly appearing on screen.

Beatrix Ward - Gareth Burns
#81 - Ariel Raider Rally3
Kenmore, United Kingdom
Saturday 16th October 2088, 11:28 - Drummond Hill
Scotland Regional Rally

“...left six long intae right six long cut-”
”No?” Bea interrupted her co-driver, the road they were taking not matching the pace notes.
“Wha- Hold up…”
”Hahaaaa, Gazza got lost!” She started cackling as she threw the car door-first around a 90 degree bend.
“Bloody Hell, where- Right four care-”
”Turn left- Bollocks!” Bea overshot a junction she saw too late in absence of the pace notes and the car came to a halt half in a ditch with a bang. ”Too fast.”
"Shite. Kin we git back out?"
”Nope, go ou-”
Before Bea could finish saying 'Go out and push.' and Gazza could even unbuckle himself, three spectators had appeared at the front of the car, a fourth voice oh-so helpfully yelling "The road is that way!" into Bea's side window before joining the other three. Two seconds later, mere six since the crash, the car was already screaming down the road again.
”Got a little lost there, did we?” Bea teased with a chuckle.
“When we landed th’ jump Ah skipped a line, so sorry.” The Scot explained before sinking back into his notes, “Seventy, left four tightens, don't cut...”

The interview cut back to the couch. ”Sometimes too close. Portuguese rally fans are bloody insane.” A well-known picture flashed across the screen, ”No offense intended, but some of you are not right up here.” She tapped her forehead.

Group Chat
Bea
“@Kofi What about Cape Town repulsors? I got a pretty close look and they seemed fine to me.
If anything Italy could stand more in a fe2 places.
*few”


BAY-RAN @Bay_Ran:
"We are thrilled to announce our official partnership with Beatrix Ward (@MadBea) of @CarreraCondorFA! As the season shifts into high gear, we’re also launching our new line of sports sunglasses, designed for those who live life in the fast lane.

We combine sleek design with cutting-edge technology, all frames coming with our top-of-the-line Chyron™ heads-up display. Stay informed and ride in style - whether you’re on the track or enjoying a day out, or conquer the road with our ‘#18 Limited’ aviator-themed series.
Join us in celebrating this partnership and elevate your style with our new collection! Check out the link in our bio to shop the collection and support Bea’s journey to victory.”

#Bay-Ran #FormulaAG #CarreraCondorFA #StyleInMotion



Carrera Condor NPCs
In Raven Squad: Second Storm (Military/Spy-Fi RP) → 2 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Boraro
Camp Hannula, Finland
The Cameroonian stood outside, breath visible in the early morning air. Borrowed phone in one hand and a scrap of paper in the other, Ebrima dialed the number Raph gave him after several minutes of persuasion and a near argument. Well, first he got a laundromat in Tel Aviv, then a restaurant in Eliat. What even was this man’s handwriting, Christ…

The third attempt connected on the second dial.
”Khen?” A middle-aged man’s voice came through.
”Avi?”
”Shlum, Ebrima.” A hint of a smile appeared in the bored and tired voice, ”They finally let you have a phone?”
”It’s a loaner. I do not have long to speak, but I need a favor.”
”There is not much I can offer you these days. Unless you would like to hear a flute song.”
”Flute…?”
”I had hoped to learn guitar, but I wasn’t allowed stringed instruments.”
”I see. No, this is something I would only trust you or Viktor Bout with. Who was that film maker you told me about last year? The Italian pioneering that system that you wanted to… Repackage?”
”Cristina Severanti? What about her?”
”Do you still have the contact?”
”Yes? Why, may I ask?”
”I am doing work… let’s call it public service. They agreed to mark this help on your record.”
”For what good it will do.”
”I cannot tell you the scope of our work, but it will.”
There was a pause. ”That bad?”
”That bad. Ms Severanti, please?”
”I’ll send it by message.”
”Thank you. I’ll tell Enri you said ‘Hello’.”
”Waitwhat?”
”Yes, turns out our little keyboard warrior is alive. And now no longer thinks we left her to die. I’ll give her the number.”
”Please do.”
”I have to go. Goodbye for now.”
”Goodbye.”
A few days later
Ebrima rushed out of cover, immediately taking a hail of fire from the two Blue Sword troopers, the armor shrugging off the two lead hoses aimed at it for long enough for him to stagger behind another wall.
“How hard is this fucker to bring down?”
“Not long now, go, get around him, I’ll keep him pinned!”
The first trooper rushed out under covering fire from his buddy and rounded a corner to see what shouldn’t be possible - Ebrima changing positions, somewhere he shouldn’t have been even with a jump pack.
“The fuck- My 20!”
“Wha- Moving!” His buddy recovered from the impossible situation quickly and moved to catch up.
The first one, meanwhile, fired a few shots in vain before following, hearing gunfire from elsewhere, likely his partner finding an angle on the Cameroonian merc. He rounded a corner to find Ebrima behind a low wall, clutching his arm. He fired, the injured African completely ignoring him once again. Alright, what the fuck? This was getting ridiculous. The Blue Sword trooper moved forward when he saw Ebrima. Again. His aim alternated between the duplicates, not knowing what to think when a hand landed on his shoulder.
”Your friend is dead.” Ebrima said calmly, ”And now, so are you.” He added as the exercise was called and three Tricksters - small hexrotor drones with a speaker and a holographic projector Severanti used to create realtime CGI effects in her movies - returned to the mounts on the back of Ebrima’s armor along with a standard Scout drone borrowed from Blue Sword that had been keeping track of them for him the entire time. If the pristine condition of Ebrima’s armor was anything to go by, at no point were they even shooting at the man himself.

Enri and the techs had spent the time well, completely unfucking the software of Ebrima’s exosuit and ditching some fat they couldn’t fix, meaning it was actually possible to upgrade the thing without multiple cascade failures. With Sam’s help, three charging ports were added to the back of his armor, each carrying one Trickster drone, and an AI of Enri’s make to manage them all, each trickster capable of projecting a lifelike image of any member of Raven plus some preloaded Blue Sword and civilian scans. A second, less sophisticated AI was added to run the two Scouters, although anyone in the team could take control of either of them through their armor at any time if needed. The onboard power packs were likewise tripled to keep up with the increased power demand, the Scouters having about an hour each in them but the projectors draining the Tricksters fast and needing in-field recharging after less than five minutes of use.
The briefing
Ebrima actually didn’t know what to think about the briefing. Space. Fucking space. How? It was one thing to have him go underwater. He knew water, never really dived except that one instance of an overturned RHIB they all agreed to never talk about, but fine, alright, diving. But space?

”Air and Sea-borne anti-satellite weapons are nothing new. Why not down the station from here if we believe it to be a threat? I am not by any means a scientist, but any toxin that may be aboard should disperse harmlessly in the vacuum, no?” Ebrima asked.

”Jamming is easy enough wirelessly, and I brought a lot of infected drives with a wide array of payloads from home to hand out. Tell me what you want and we’ll see what can be done, on top of Sam’s pocket drones.” Enri spoke up, ”What worries me is that launch sites are typically hardwired for reliability, so if they want to launch, we most likely can’t stop them unless we’re in the command center. What’s our contingency for that?”

Ebrima had one more question, waiting for everyone to get theirs out of the way and to see if anyone else’s mind went down that grim path, only speaking if his head was the only one fucked up in that way. ”It’s a lot of work to do. Beyond Sol Hestia, what do the priorities look like?” He didn’t say it directly, but the implication of leaving the hostages to their fate if needed was clearly there.
In DELTΔ HYPER (An F1 Drive to Survive inspired Anti-Gravity, Slice of Life, Cyberpunkish/Solarpunkish RP) → 2 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Thu 22/04 11:37 PAUL MULDER [Batt: 98%]

———— Today ————
> Just read about your head engineer, everything OK “at home”?

> It was certainly a surprise but Knight has the situation under control. Were you worried about me Bea?
> I was worried you and Dorian will lose pace, stop wasting Zygon’s time and Ava and I will have to start trying. 😛

Sunday May 9th, 2094, 13:00
Portimão, Portugal
Race
The Condors had a mid start, not particularly bothered by Kofi behind but not making any ground ahead either. Poor Bjorn started falling back not long after that, the double overtake making it look like the wiphala ships avoided rather than overtook the struggling Swede.

Ulrich was where the show would be for the Condors’ fans. A near constant, multiple laps spanning rock-paper-scissors esque clash of Ulrich’s ELS sorcery and defense, Bea’s unpredictable feints and lunges and Ava’s surgical precision and race management. The German withstood corner after corner of the Brit’s harassment, constantly changing when and how she attacked to keep him guessing, but every time he had a break and would have normally boosted away, he had to instead defend from Ava on the other side as the Condors passed him between each other like a hot potato.

”We’d like to swap positions with Ava before the main straight.” Al came over the radio with an instruction no driver wanted to hear.
”I can take him, I have him figured out now.” She protested.
”Swap. Positions. Please.” The race engineer reiterated.
’Horsecrap!’ She thought.
”Understood.” She answered, pulling off the line on the straight between turns four and five. Ulrich lasted to about halfway down the main straight, having expended a lot of charge fending the Condors off in the preceding few laps, meanwhile Ava kept a reserve due to having her teammate to lean on and forced her way by, keeping the German off the racing line into turn one which allowed Bea to get by with minimal effort.

It didn’t last very long. Exactly one lap to be precise. ”Smoke from Ava’s ship!” Bea called out, pulling off the line to get a clear line of sight, quickly followed by the ships behind her as she watched Ava pull off into the gravel trap.
”We think it’ll be a VSS.”
”Is Ava out?”
”Yes, got out. And that’s the safety ship, so set up for the restart. Falkner behind, then Mensah.”
”Slow and slower, should be easy.” Bea verbally shrugged in reference to the MMR and SuperCat ships performance, helped further by the Ghanian jumping the German on restart.

It wasn’t long before Dorian likewise had a mechanical failure, yet despite that and knowing exactly when she was making up time, the shortened prep time once again showed and the veteran Frenchman stayed well ahead of any danger. In hindsight, maybe Dorian could have stood to lose a bit more pace that weekend. One day she’d learn to shut her mouth. Probably when she’s old and boring.

DELTΔ HYPER
Episode 5: Trading Paint


"Bea, not the best weekend for Carrera Condor, and the fire for Ava had us all worried. How do you feel about the risks in Formula AG- following your crash and this recent fire?"

”If anything, Cape Town showed just how safe motorsports have gotten. Of course you’re worried when your teammate’s ship bursts into flames in front of you, but let’s not forget what Ava did before racing. She’s been through worse, rock solid that one.
It’s also important to note that this isn’t something we have to do. It’s one thing if a mine or a cargo ship is unsafe. That is necessary to civilization, people have to do that and thus safety should be paramount there. No one has to do this. We’re all very dedicated hobbyists, we all know what we’re getting into, and nobody is making us be here. Here, you need to strike a balance between safety and entertainment, and I think that of the things people can complain about when it comes to FIAR or the racing series itself, this isn’t one of them.
Becasue be honest with me: If it was completely free of danger, would it still be as exciting?” Bea finished by asking Aurora before turning to the nearby grandstand and drawing on her dad’s love of movies. ”Are you not entertained?”

”As for our race, we knew it would be bad, but this came out of left field.“ She returned back to Aurora when the cheering died off - Cassie’s fans providing a lot of it - to address the first part of the question, ”It’s a shame, I think together we could’ve taken Dorian as well even if he hadn’t had his own problems.” It would still have been pointless, but ego was a concern with racing drivers.

Sunday May 9th, 2094, 16:38
Portimão, Portugal
Paddock roof terrace
”Don’t take this the wrong way,” Bea set down a cup of tea beside Ava as she joined her on the terrace overlooking the back of the paddock where the team was finishing up loading the trucks with a mischievous smirk, ”But I expected a calmer reaction from a test pilot.”
”An ejection system would have made that situation calmer.” Ava offered half-hearted defense as she accepted the steaming gift, ”Better now than next race.”
”True. Heard something about injectors?”
”You heard correct. Started pissing fuel into the engine uncontrollably, and beyond the combustion chambers. Total loss.” The Chilean pilot explained, ”Good damage control today.”
”Not good enough. Couldn’t even get past a crippled ship.”
”Driven by someone with over a decade of experience. Our partners and fans could do a lot worse than us.”
”True. They could’ve been with Fitzroy.”
”Fitzroy Orbital has fans?” Ava asked after in jest a pause.
”They do. I saw them myself after Italy. All six of them.” Bea joined in on the joke, ”On second thought, they were probably just some of Jen’s fans.”
Neither of the chuckling women noticed the Delta Hyper crew member sitting a few tables away having surreptitiously turned the camera drone on while leaving it laying on the table.

Monday May 10th, 2094, 10:09
Buenos Aires, Argentina
”The Ranch” (Carrera Condor Formula AG Team headquarters)
”Looks like you managed well in my absence. Portugal did not turn out great, but we soldier on. Ava, the engineers have already assessed the damage, we’ll have your ship back in order in time. The non-engine damage was less than initially expected. He began before turning to Bea, ”Having returned to talks with Sarif Industries, Mr. Sarif made a note of the liquid immersion system used by the number 18 crew and suggested one of their products for our use. I believe you plan on synthetic lung replacement?”
”I don’t think that’s necessary now.” Bea shook her head, ”My main reason is an issue of comfort and convenience. If the option for on-track gains is there now, it will be there later. But we sacrificed the last race for Luna, I think we should keep the momentum going. If the heart replacement surgery is anything to go by, there will also be a recovery time which is why I’m holding off on it until the summer break.” Not that she didn’t want it yesterday, but even scatter-brained people knew distractions were bad.
”Very well.” León nodded, ”Ronaldo?”
”Preparations are on schedule. Now it’s a matter of setup priority.” The engineer answered, ”Simulations show a balanced approach to not be worth the effort, which leaves us two choices.
Option one: Focus ELS for an aggressive strategy. The pack is level on this, but we are up there. This will favor Ava slightly given her familiarity with the system.
Option two: Speed and handling. It would allow us to even out the deficit, given the ship performs well in these areas now, and plays better into Beatrix’ racing style.”
”Aggressive sounds good. Plus projections place ELS as critical, not to mention Ava has raced there already, I haven’t. This will likely be her show and there’s bigger point gaps in higher places.”
”I was going to say the same, but I’m glad you said it first.”
”I agree. Everyone pulling in the same direction, you make my job so easy.” León shared a joke, generally seeming less tightly wound than in the past month. ”Flávia, you had something you wanted to bring up?”
”Yes, given that a large share of Pridwen Solutions’ portfolio is in spaceflight, Mr. Ward asked for our pilots’ time before the weekend for some promotional work.”
”Easy enough to do, if it’s nothing risky. We’ll be on the Moon early anyway to acclimatize.”


Bea Ward @MadBea:
"Not the result you were hoping to see, and our apologies to everyone who came to support us in person at a race we chose to sacrifice even before mechanical failures hampered us further than expected.
With the team rested, we’re hard at work preparing for the next one. We’ll be back in gear then, revving higher than ever.”

#FormulaAG #CarreraCondorFA #AGRacing #PortugeseAGP

Briat77: Absolutely disgusting to see what this team has become. Selling out to Tommy corpo scum and blatantly prioritizing their planted pilot who has nothing to do with the team’s culture, just brings money.
Javi: team prolly sabotaged ava to make ward look better artificially
IronBeer: …do you need psychiatric help? ‘Cause I know a guy.
Xinny: @TiresAndTinfoil if you’re ever doing a podcast I’ve got a co-host for you.
NineIron: You mean a “nutcast”
Darkstar69: I’d pay to watch that. Preferably after a good blunt.
Crossfit_Crusader: Might wanna hit up that pothead weirdo that hangs around Valkyrie forums.
CarreraCarmen: Nooooo, poor Ava.
GalwayGirl: She was absolutely on fire today.
AndesAG: maybe time for that new engine pridwen has been failing to deliver since season start
User420: @MadBea: Any thoughts on the continuing Valkyrie mess?
MadBea: I think it’s best to not stick my nose where it doesn’t belong.
CloroxEnjoyer: Hope Nordic Call can bounce back after this BS.
Shel1: You mean Astrid, ‘cause Waldgard is fucking nowhere
NorthWest: We don’t claim him. As far Sweden is concerned, he’s Danish.

Fri 14/05 18:22 EVA [Batt: 42%]

———— Today ————
> BEATRIX VIOLA!
> What?
> I cannot believe you.
> What did I do now?
> [Link to Delta Hyper Episode 5, timestamped to Bea’s exchange with Paul just after the kart race]
> What?
> What’s harmless banter between friends?
> You are unbelievable!
[You reacted with 😆]
> And you need to lay off the romcoms. 😛
> If you have a wishlist for Moon souvenirs, send it my way.
[“Eva” reacted with ❤️]
> I’ll take some regolith samples and take a lot of holos.
[You reacted with 👍]
> Nothing for Christopher?
> I didn’t want to presume.
> He builds dioramas and models.
> Moon landings?
> He doesn’t have any yet.
> [Link to 1:10 scale model]? 😛
> Fiend. 😆


Carrera Condor NPCs
In DELTΔ HYPER (An F1 Drive to Survive inspired Anti-Gravity, Slice of Life, Cyberpunkish/Solarpunkish RP) → 2 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Wednesday April 21st, 2094, 09:52
London, United Kingdom
Richmond, Lauderdale Drive
”I thought you had the week off?” Akela Ward sipped her tea in Bea’s living room, ”Strange to spend it working.”
”Remember what they say about not working a day in your life if you love your job?” Bea asked as she set down the clear coat spray she was covering her helmet with. She got a weird idea during the last school visit she did, and it was panning out nicely. ”I like sharing my passions with other people who enjoy them. Especially kids. It’s a whole new set of questions you don’t usually hear.”
”But you need to remember to take time for yourself, even if this is your hobby, as you call it.”
”I am. You tripped over a painting when you were taking your coat off, remember?” She reminded her mother. High time for another giveaway, they were starting to overflow into the hallway again.
”Maybe you should also make time to clean, then.” The Ward matriarch returned her daughter’s mischievous grin.
”Funny… I was going to on Friday, but then I got Eva’s message and I am NOT missing that.”
”Ah, yes, the elusive Prince Charming, finally revealed.”
”Aerospace Researcher Charming, I think.”
”Of course. You didn’t seem surprised when she shared that. Makes me wonder what else you know?” She tried to pry.
”You didn’t raise us to go back on our word.” Bea shook her head, ”Be patient, it’s only three days.”
”You did not just tell someone else to be patient.” Both women had to laugh at the absurdity of that.

Thu 22/04 11:26 PAUL MULDER [Batt: 98%]

———— Today - A few seconds ago ————
> Just read about your head engineer, everything OK “at home”?


ThrottleMeMommyVillarosa: What does everyone make of all the chaos at Valkyrie?
TurboLover: Where is that truther guy when you need him?
TiresAndTinfoil: I think they got something on Bea. Why else would she agree to the Mulder charity gig when his team is under so much scrutiny atm?
MadBea: Are “doing nice things for your friends” or “occam’s razor” are a thing in your world?
GalwayGirl: That’s EXACTLY what someone being blackmailed would say! :P
MadBea: Galwaaaaay! Stop feeding trolls. :D
Xinny: She’s not feeding trolls, she IS the troll.

Thu 22/04 11:28 ACE [Batt: 96%]

———— Sunday - 21/03/2094 ————
> Let me know how you’re doing when you can, will you?
[You reacted with ❤️]
> I’m in one piece, thanks.
———— Tuesday - 30/03/2094 ————
> Forecast looks bad for We and Th, flyout to Japan as normal, ad shoot on Friday.
[“Ace” reacted with 👍]
———— Thursday - 01/04/2094 ————
> Fujikura shoot at 0700.
> WHEN?!

> Waiting outside.
> Out in a bit.
> Do I want to know how long ago you got out of bed?
> I refuse to answer.
———— Monday - 19/04/2094 ————
> Good tip with the dam, thanks.
> Don’t mention it.
> I’m taking the crew out for dinner to celebrate, you lot coming along? It’s palazzo di Gusto, at five.
> We’ll be there.
———— Wednesday - 21/04/2094 ————
> You’ve been to Luna before, any tips to share?
> The horizon is only 2,41 klicks away, so you’ll have to get used to judging distances differently.
> Greatly diminished braking action and loose handling because of no atmosphere.
> How loose, like driving on gravel? The beginning of aquaplaning?
> I have no idea what either of those feel like.
> Slight delay between steering input and actually turning, understeer due to lower traction.
> God I need to get you out offroading someday.
> Yeah, pretty much that.
> You’ll also be carrying oxidizer on board. The ship will be heavier. And if you have a fire, stop and bail immediately.
> Don’t even try to find a safe place to stop, just do it and get out.
> Got it.
> And don’t hit your head on the ceiling.
———— Today - A few seconds ago ————
> I think you have a fan. 😛
[Screenshot of an online conversation featuring the username ‘ThrottleMeMommyVillarosa’]
> Oh God
> Why do you willingly engage with these people?
> Now you see what I meant by “mad” =/= “insane”?
> And if I didn’t, they’d make you do it.
> Point.

Thursday May 6th, 2094, 12:08
Portimão, Portugal
The Carrera Condor ship returned to the pits, stopping at the usual marks. The lengthened cockpit opened and a young woman with a face almost as green as the highlights on Bea’s racing suit staggered out, holding onto her partner helping her down to the ground.
Bea was right behind her, untangling herself from the harness in the back seat of the tandem cockpit of the modified 2090 ship and jumping down. ”I need a rag and bucket!” She called out into the garage, causing the nearby Ava to lift her head up from instructing the next person in for the ride along.
”Did you scare away a fan?”
”I asked her if she ate before this. She said no.” Bea groaned exasperatedly, ”You didn’t eat recently, did you?” She turned to the fan waiting for his turn, the man shaking his head as a mechanic brought a rag and bucket.
”See something new every day I guess?”
”Actually, I have driven with vomit in my footwell before, but at least this time I have an enclosed helmet and it wasn’t mi-”
”Eugh, too much information.” Ava waved at Bea to get her to be quiet.

DELTΔ HYPER
Episode 5: The Atlantic Breeze


When Bea arrived for the interview, Elise had already been there, talking to some Swiss journalist Bea didn’t recognize. She eased up her steps, sneaking up to the junior series pilot, standing behind her left shoulder and quickly gesturing for a Delta Hyper crewmember to act natural when he saw her and activated a camera drone.
She gave Elise 20 seconds before slowly reaching around her back and tapping her on the right shoulder, the Andorran pilot turning to the right before realizing what was happening and quickly changing sides before Bea had time to side step into her blind spot.
“How long has she been standing there?” Elise turned to the journalist, knowing he must have seen her and said nothing.
”An hour or so.” Bea beat him to the answer.

"Beatrix, Elise, welcome to Delta Hyper. Elise, are you excited for your first round in Junior AG? How's the team been?" Aurora asked, her usual chirp coming in, knowing the beaming smile on the footage was definitely not fake.

"Oh yeah, it's really exciting. Bea has been really busy so we haven't really caught up much, but her sim data has been great, and it is so cool to see the team on top. First season here after Formula 3, so I'm excited to see what I can do!"

"And Bea, anything for the journey you would suggest to Elise to know from your experiences so far?"

”I would suggest you don’t learn from people who are still learning themselves. Blind leading the blind and all.” Bea shrugged, ”Whatever I think I’ve learned so far, the sample pool is so small I don’t know if I even drew the correct conclusions or if I’m just lucky.” She explained further.
”I guess, don’t try to be what you’re not, on or off the track, find your groove and stick to that. History’s full of drivers who switched teams, sat in a car that handled differently and fell off a cliff, unable to adapt.” She tried to actually answer the question, ”But don’t be too good, or they’ll kick me out.” She added with a grin.

Saturday May 8th, 2094, 15:38
Portimão, Portugal
Qualifying
The interior cameras came to life, showing Bea’s helmet covered with smiley faces, stickers and good luck wishes from the schoolkids she talked to in the week after italy, plus a few empty spaces where she had to scrub off a dick or two before clearcoating the helmet to make sure the permanent marker didn't smudge or rub off.

The main straight ended deceptively fast. T4 was the first struggle, the crest visibly upsetting the Carrera Condor ship, only quick stickwork keeping Bea within the track limits. T5 would’ve been a handful a few weeks ago, but the handling upgrade was notable. The first big problem came in the form of T10, the blind corner over crest - a terrain feature she grew to hate in her first year in rally and hasn’t accepted since - combined with less than ideal amount of time in the sim making her miss the braking point and brake early, wasting precious time.
’Idiot!’
The shameful display was completed with another wobbly moment in T13 compromising entry into T14. This, Aurora, was a qualifying to forget.

”Not what we wanted, but well done, considering.” Alistair maintained a neutral tone as Bea slowed down, staying off the racing line to let Paul by on his outlap.
”We knew it would be bad here. Really missing that week, but we didn’t burn out and there will be gains elsewhere.” Bea shrugged verbally, or rather double nonverbally given her setup, already counting all the ‘cope’ accusations in her head. ”We’re going easy on Zygon, Cassie’s home race and all.” Bea chuckled.
”How nice of us.” Alistair joined the chuckles.


Njál Sigurdsson @SmolNjol:
Preach!
[A phone-shot video from the Carrera Condor hospitality center, showing the floor but the voices are clear enough.
”...eriously? Ten places and not even for the crash, for what she said afterward! What are we, in reception?”
“FIAR is gonna make them sit on the ground and hold hands.”
”Hah! Call Astrid’s mum to tell her that her daughter has a potty mouth. What a joke. Might as well rebrand to ‘FIARsco’ if this is the new low we can expect.”]
#FormulaAG #FIARsco #JusticeForAstrid

ChesterFromChester: Americans still fistfighting each other in NASCAR once or twice a season, hockey players almost putting each other through the barriers, everyone sleeps. The Korean drone gets insulted: Real shit.
DohnJoe: dont hate us cause we know how to have fun
Galenhulme: Because FA is a gentleman’s sport. These drivers should behave to a higher standard than some brutes on skates.
TruckerTim: OK, sports Hitler…
Xinny: It’s absolutely criminal because the rematch between those two would’ve been fire.
Exxalibur: You mean the European would’ve cracked like last time, if she could even make up 4 places?
Darkstar69: @SmolNjol Seriously uncool of you to record a conversation like that.
SmolNjol: Don’t say things you don’t want public in public. She’s right, anyway. Watch FIAR throw a fit over that too just prove the point by accident.
CloroxEnjoyer: More people should speak out against this. They can’t penalize everyone.
Zero: Austria F1 GP 2023 would like a word. [Link to the full list of penalties from the race]


Carrera Condor NPCs
In Raven Squad: Second Storm (Military/Spy-Fi RP) → 3 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Boraro
Raven's Rock, Camp Hannula, Pöyrisjärvi National Park, Finland
The room was dark except for the light of the screen, quiet bar the rattle of the keyboard - since Enri didn’t have time to grab her music library - and seemingly peaceful. On the outside, at least, a storm of thoughts brewing in her mind that she would rather not think about. And that was when the door opened.

”Good evening.”
”Is it?” Enri didn’t even look up from the computer.
By Ebrima’s standards, it was. He was alive and the world didn’t end.
By Enri’s standards, she was thrown into a war zone, re-lived something she would rather have stayed forgotten and the fucking world almost ended.
”About Colombia.“ He started directly. A people person he was indeed not. ”Mistakes were made. I thought-”
”Thought what? That I was expendable? Not high enough on the ladder to bother with?” The venom in Enri’s voice snowballed with every word.
”...that you were dead.” Ebrima held his ground, ”I saw an inch and a half of ferroglass shatter with a single shot, a spray of blood and then you slumped over the steering wheel. Two seconds later, we were rolled over in the ditch and taking fire from two directions. We would have gone to check if we had either the time or a reason to think you were still alive.”
”I know.” She said after a pause, ”When you showed up, I broke into Raphael’s computer for his login to get access to the evidence files for Shalev’s case. Heard the radio comms. I guess you never were one to lie, even if it would’ve helped you.” She explained as casually as if talking about the weather, ”Not that it would have, If you’d been lying, they would’ve found enough child pornography on your computer tomorrow to make you the first person to be executed in Cameroon since 1997 and no one could tell it was AI generated.” She added matter-of-factly after a brief pause, the delivery leaving no doubt to even those who didn’t know her that yes, she could and yes, she would.
There was a hint of a wide-eyed expression on Ebrima’s face, the Enri he used to know being significantly more subtle about being just as vicious. ”Raphael will not be happy when he eventually finds out.”
”Eh, they’re keeping you around with your rap sheet, I’ll be fine, not to mention long gone by then.” She dismissed it with a wave of her hand. ”I have to ask: How many made it out?”
”Out of the ambush? Shalev, the Masons, Brodén, Belyayeva, Crowstep, Moses, Sundström, Bastion and myself.” 75% casualty rate in one ambush, just like that.
”...and?”
”Into custody? Shalev, Brodén, Sundström and I.” 90%.
”Fuck…” Enri sighed, Ebrima nodding in agreement.
”I won’t say you had it easy, but seeing you was like seeing a ghost.”
”That’s rich coming from the guy wearing your skin.”
Ebrima broke into chuckles, a sudden bout of headache immediately making him regret that.
”Got shot in the head a few hours ago.” He replied flatly to Enri’s quizzical look.
”Sucks, doesn’t it?” Enri asked, only a hint of the previous hostility remaining. ”We’re a right pair of stubborn fuckers, aren’t we?”

Interlude: Last Campfire
2200 Local Time
”I got the impression that by now, Doctor Keller knows better than to expect miracles.” The fur-lined Michelin Man that appeared from the darkness beyond the campfire’s light replied to Sam’s comment in Ebrima’s voice, giving Skye a thumbs up only she would probably understand as he rolled a log to sit on closer to the fire with his foot and took over some of the roasting sticks from Adam.

Enri hadn’t joined the fire. ‘Outside’ was generally a four-letter word for her nor did she have much in common with the operators - the madmen and madwomen who willingly did that every week. She thrived best behind the scenes, in her own little world.
In DELTΔ HYPER (An F1 Drive to Survive inspired Anti-Gravity, Slice of Life, Cyberpunkish/Solarpunkish RP) → 3 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Sunday April 18th, 2094, 13:00
Marmolada, Italy
Italian AGP
By all rights - and Alistair’s recommendation - Bea should’ve been taking an experienced racer like Cassie sitting behind her more seriously than she was. The Zygon ship was only marginally worse where it mattered on this track and every corner they’d spend fighting would be playing right into the frontrunners’ hands, but race drivers moved in the direction they looked, so she let Cassie be Cassie and looked to the ship directly ahead.

Well, it was a nice thought, shame it only lasted about twenty seconds before the frontrunners started building a notable gap. And then Cassie… well, was Cassie and before long Paul was the ship behind her.
”Gap?” Bea asked.
”Point oh-two-six.” Alistair replied immediately.
”Gap ahead, you muppet.” She snarked with a hint of a smile.
”Right,“ He chuckled, ”Point eight-six-six”
A deep sigh in response. Maybe she had big eyes before the race.

Or maybe she’d get another chance.

”Yellow yellow, sector one. I think that’s gonna be a safety ship.”
”Who and where?”
”Astrid and Han, past the jump.”
”Shite, no barriers there. How does it look?”
”Tumbled off the track, but there’s debris. Astrid is out and walking… The woman looks on a mission.”
”And Hyeon-Ae?”
”Definitely moving… And out.”
”Good, good. Alright, back to work.”

And then Layla and Amy walked away from her the second time. Paul also tried it again at the restart, but the temperatures being what they were meant she could push the engine as hard as she wanted to without worrying about overheating. ’Not today, mate.’ She thought with a grin, continuing to focus on hitting her marks to minimise time loss in corners, sneaking the occasional envy-filled glance back at Paul’s rock-solid ship and leaving the Belgian in her wake on the straights only for that dance to repeat corner after corner, lap after lap. But Bea was content with Alistair’s calm voice reporting the gap behind more or less the same every lap, even though the gap ahead wasn’t changing either, but in P6 in a ship like theirs, not falling back was still a win and before she knew it, 45 minutes came and went and the chequered flag flew.
”That’s P6 for you and P8 for Ava, fantastic drive today.” Behind Alistari’s voice, she could hear the cheers from the garage.
”Oh, you’re still awake there?“ Bea laughed, ” Top job to you as well, mate. Where did Cassie go?”
”P11. Want the whole roster?”
”The nerve of that woman.” Bea grinned inside her fishbowl, ”To fumble that bad and make this race feel boring.”
”Look who’s getting cocky? Maybe she hasn’t settled into her new team yet.” Alistair offered with a chuckle.
”True. Not everyone can be as welcoming as you merry band.”
”Our driver takes us to expensive restaurants when we exceed expectations in races, we have good reason to be.” He chuckled.
”All according to plan. I’m wrapping all of you around my fingers.” She joined in on the fun, slowing down and letting Paul pass to line up side-by-side with Ava, giving her teammate a few excited fist pumps and a thumbs up.

DELTΔ HYPER
Episode Four: Azzuro Alpina


"Bea, an outstanding result today! It seems like you managed to put down some impressive bankers- and are putting Carrera firmly into the midfield. How do you feel that this projects for the rest of the season?"

”I don’t know. Someone smarter does the thinking, I’m just the stick-and-throttle linkage.” Bea shrugged with a mischievous grin, ”Not sure about me putting the team into the midfield either, admittedly I’m not great at math but eight was just one point short of half of 18 last I checked.
On a more serious note about going forward, we’ll be hitting tracks that require different ship characteristics soon so we will have to adjust in time if we want to keep this going, but since León hasn’t put a foot wrong since I’ve been with the team and the engineers have likewise been doing an incredible job turning us around, I have no reason to doubt either.
But as you said, today was an outstanding result.” Bea nodded agreement at Aurora’s opening statement of the question, ”I told you the whole team will have a reason to celebrate here.” She finished her segment with a smile.

Ava was smiling before the mid season and both Condors did well in Italy. Let it never be said she wasn’t a woman of her word.

Monday April 19th, 2094
Marmolada, Italy
Chalet Vites Mountain Hotel
A fortunate combination of León being busy with something, a very good finish and the team’s off-track pace since the start of the season led to a free day for the whole away team as the usual debriefing was held remotely, with Suárez taking point in the team principal’s absence.

”Everyone on the engineering team is delighted with Sunday’s performance. Integrating the upgrades into the ship hasn’t always been smooth sailing, but we’ve made it work and you and everyone on the ground delivered.” Ronaldo started after the usual good-mornings and other pleasantries, both pilots addressed looking at least a little bit smug. ”Unfortunately, the pace of upgrades as well as the intensive work on developing the Alicorn engine is unsustainable…”
Over at the factory at that very moment…

“I am this close to laying down and never getting back up again.” Jesus, one of the propulsion engineers, collapsed onto the break room’s sofa before the door could even close behind him.
“It did it again?” Naomi, his colleague on loan from Pridwen Solutions, asked in an exasperated tone, the first “it” a well-known boogie man in the factory by now.
“Fucker did it again.” Jesus replied to a round of groans.
“Is it too soon for another asado? When Alonso is found again?” Rosario, an Argentinian machinist, spoke up from the vending machines.
“Yeah, we can roast the food on the damn engine. Grill quick, before the fucking thing melts.” Jesus grumbled.
Back in the meeting

”...and therefore, after discussing this with León and Alejandra, the factory gets the rest of the week off. León and Juan are going to be out for a few more days as well, so given the time lost, the specific characteristics of the track, the marketing exposure of it and the need to give the engineers a rest, León, Flávia and I have decided to focus on the Lunar AGP at the cost of Portugal. So, if you have anything that needs to be settled with anyone at the factory you have until two in the afternoon, Argentina Standard, to do it.
Flávia will call both of you on Thursday with details about the promotion we discussed last week. Ava, since you have been to the Moon before, we’ll see you on Monday. Beatrix, we’ll need you to come in on the weekend so we can start you on the gravity sim.” He finished the important part of the truncated debrief before moving onto some housekeeping.

With the meeting concluded, Bea logged off the remote app and started noting down reminders and buying tickets when she heard snickering behind her, turning around to see Eva in the doorway. ”No weekend for you, you’re learning to walk!”
”Still get to go to the Moon and get paid for it.” Bea shrugged in response.

11:20 JEN LOWRY [Battery: 89%]

———— Saturday - 27/09/2092 ————
> Did I hear right, your qualifying time got deleted because your GPS transponder wasn’t working?
> Yeah. In a single-ship session.
> It’s not even in the MEL for crying out loud.
> We also said that in the protest.
> They need to get Argyris out of the stewards’ room, this is embarrassing.
———— Sunday - 12/10/2092 ————
> Did you fall asleep on the start or wot? Good recovery though.
> No, I confused your hair for the start lights and thought we were still red.
> I can set you up if you ever want to replace those blonde highlights you’ve been wearing since you were 15.
> Hey, not everyone can pull off your hair.
> And at least the screamsheets can’t date my photos by my hairdo.
[“Jen Lowry” reacted with 😆]
> Touché.
———— Wednesday - 15/10/2092 ————
> Heard someone landed a main series seat? Congratulations! You can add that to the list of things you’ve beaten me at.
> Hah, thanks! Mam actually cried when I told ‘er. Shoot, I almost did.
> I’d say “understandable”.
> Hard to even describe it.
> You still waiting on word?
> Valkyrie is no-go, but plenty more fish.
———— Sunday - 09/11/2092 ————
> Mind explaining what you were doing in turn 10 on lap 21?
> Yeah, sorry about that. The photosensor on my helmet failed and for safety it turns the visor transparent.
> There’s a “but” coming
> Safety my left foot, I was driving T9 to T14 half by memory because I saw nothing but glare until I had time to adjust it manually on the striaght. I had no idea you were there until the proximity alert.
———— Wednesday - 10/12/2092 ————
> Just read about MMR. Still waiting on Condor, right?
> Nope. They pulled the plug yesterday.
> Sorry to hear.
> So what’s next?
> Don’t know. Thought to drown my sorrows, but wiser heads overruled that.
> I’ll sleep on it.
———— Friday - 17/07/2093 ————
> What’s this paddock talk about a reshuffle at Carrera?
> Not under an NDA, that’s what! You weren’t joking about it being hard to describe.
> Not how I wanted it to happen and already getting hatemail, but something, something, gift horse’s mouth!
> Nice! See you at the back of the pack.
> See you there.
> Maybe feel a bit bad that you got in on talent alone and still ended up in a worse team.
> Maybe you age like wine?
[You reacted with 😆]
———— Sunday - 21/03/2094 ————
> That hit must’ve been big, how are you holding up?
[You reacted with ❤️]
> Cleared on neurals and physicals, just cybernetics left. Thanks for asking.
[“Jen Lowry” reacted with: 👍]
———— Yesterday - 15:18 ————
> Hey. Didn’t catch you after the race, think I was too busy picking up my jaw off the ground after seeing a Fitzroy AG ship in P13. Beautiful drive yesterday, glad you weren’t bringing this game to races back in the Junior league.
> And on behalf of the Jamie Hart Headache Club: Welcome.
[“Jen Lowry” reacted with: 😆]
> Hey! Appreciate it! It was a solid race for sure.
> You’re catching on quick.
———— Today - A few seconds ago ————
> One more thing: Sometime around the British AGP, don’t yet know the specifics, Paul, Nora and I (more may join later, don’t know) are renting track time and some drift cars for a few hours in London, want in?
> Thanks for the offer. I don’t know what me schedule will look like then, but it does sound great. Can I let you know when I know?
> Of course, two months is a long time.
[“Jen Lowry” reacted with: 👍]


Bea Ward @MadBea:
[Image of both #3 and #18 crews seated around several tables in an expensive restaurant, raising their drinks in toast toward the camera.]
P6 and P8 for a total of 12 points, all in a day’s work. Here’s to everyone in the picture and back at the factory, who made it possible, and to the fans who make it worth more than just the money it pays.
Thanks to the staff and owners at @PalazzodiGusto, now my second favourite place in Italy after the track itself.

Glad that both Astrid and Hyeon-Ae are in one piece, going down a hillside like that.
That was a bold move, @HHAZygon. Shame it got wasted.
#FormulaAG #CarreraCondorAG #Italy #MarmoladaAGP

GalwayGirl: Call it “the first supper” because there will be many more!
MadBea: And unlike Judas, the amateur, we’re not settling for silver. :P
CarreraCarmen: Wonder how many teams are looking at Bea like “Fuck, we could’ve had her last year…”
UrbanMaverick: Now imagine those who looked at the second offer with the Pridwen funding and still went “Nah.” :D
AndesAG: AVA FUCK YEEEEES!
Hotstuff: so much enthusiasm for P9
AndesAG: its not about the destination, its the journey! the potential! Its not a shitbox anymore!
Crossfit_Crusader: Actually, fair.
TruckerTim: Lowry showing up with different coloured hair every weekend: Taking the term “clowning on Hart” to its peak. For real, someone help him or put him out of his misery, but this is just cruel.
GaryFromIndiana: Poor Cassie can be his +1 on suicide watch.
MrSmooth: Gotta be some fuckery going on at Zygon. This is NOT Cassie.
DohnJoe: zygon can’t have an outsider beating their golden child. Simple as
NineIron: This is what I call a season. God, let it never end.
Sol_de_Mayo: OK, I’m starting to see a pattern emerging here that I still don’t really like but can’t deny at this point.
ForzaGl0ria: No clue what the shit Haenae was doing.
Xinny: Passing. Kinda the point of the sport. What I wonder is how Astrid didn’t see that coming.
CloroxEnjoyer: Probably dipped into her own supply before the race, that’s how.
MissedApex: And it’s “Hyeon-Ae”


Carrera Condor NPCs
In DELTΔ HYPER (An F1 Drive to Survive inspired Anti-Gravity, Slice of Life, Cyberpunkish/Solarpunkish RP) → 3 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
DELTΔ HYPER
A Couch in the Sky


"Well, it sounds like a dream for an ex-rally driver such as yourself. It seems like Carrera in particular will enjoy this circuit- with the upgrades brought to the ship, it seems like the team seems to be more well oiled this year than in previous years. What do you think has been the main factor?"

”Yes, this place really has everything. We’ll see how the moon measures up for the views, but so far it’s not looking great for Lady Luna.” Bea nodded, gesturing to the mountains around them.
”That’s a question better asked of León than me honestly, he’ll have the numbers as well as a better reference of the previous years. I could say Pridwen money and tech or that we now have two drivers with different mindsets and thus two approaches to problems,“ As opposed to the 2093 Carrera Condor lineup of ‘Ava’ and ‘Budget Ava’, ”But I don’t want to sound like I’m tooting my own horn. I think it’s largely incremental improvement, trimming the fat and building on what works over the years. That, and Alex has practically been living in the sim hall to get all the upgrades dialled in before we even put our hands on them. Watch out for the future, slow and steady we’re coming for that crown.” She smiled confidently.


Bea nearly dropped her shades from laughter when Paul revealed his scorecards, having been too wrapped up with the last-minute prepwork of the first interview to notice them. ”Finally, some half-decent points!”

Bea stifled a laugh when Paul spoke glowingly about Italian fans, being the partial instigator of her own not as positive experience with them. As the saying went: ‘Talk shit, get hit.’ At least figuratively speaking.

Saturday April 17th, 2094, 14:32
Marmolada, Italy
Qualifying
”Provisional pole. Good drive.”
”It’s not telling us much, is it?” Bea lamented, ”I get it for the fans, but I really wish we ran this top to bottom instead.”
”It keeps the masses on the edge of their seats and we can make educated guesses. Subjective feeling?”
”Very good. Sectors one and three are mostly free time for us. Tweety Birds might kick our arse though.”
And she would continue to sit on provisional pole until Jamie’s masterpiece, one she laughed a lot harder at than she would’ve liked once the Canuck climbed out of the wreck, after which the top five of the season handily beat her. Ava’s position was a disappointment all things considered, but points were scored on Sunday.


”This corner is your problem. I think.” Bea appeared out of nowhere, setting down a tablet on the table and pointing out the 90 degree right-hander coming onto the dam in sector three.
Ava flinched a little at the unexpected bubbly Briton, too deep in thought over her telemetry to notice Bea’s approach. ”Don’t take this the wrong way, but do you mean this one that you lost time on me at?” Ava asked.
”Because I sacrificed it in favour of the next one. Look ahead. It took you until this slot right to stop falling behind again and you’ve not made up any time until the end of the lap.” Bea pointed some six corners ahead.
”Go on.” Ava nodded, still not getting anywhere with it herself and it would explain how Bea could shoot out of the following corner that much faster.
”Brake early to get onto the dam and you can take the corner off it under ten percent power to reduce throttle lag before the straight.“ She explained, considering the small left kink part of the straight as that was also taken at full throttle. Another point to piston engines over turbines: Instant throttle response, even from idle. ”Don’t fight our stability, use our acceleration. I did this and I’m level on pace with Southern Cross from there all the way until this double apex bastard by the museum.”
Ava looked over the overlaid charts for a few seconds. ”Thanks for the tip.”
”Just returning a favour, Ace.” Bea smiled back, ”We have to get you into points tomorrow. I smell a constructors’ position in the air, the Yankees are struggling something fierce here.”
”Oh, did you get the memo that circulated when you were in the shower?”
”No?” She said surprised, intending to have a chat about not being in the loop with the team member responsible. ”What memo?”
”Someone at merch got a ‘wild hair,’ as you say. They’re launching Condor plushies with removable racing helmets at three o’clock, they want us manning the stand.” Ava almost rolled her eyes at the responsibility, actually rolling her eyes at Bea’s excited reaction.


Timothy Hill @TruckerTim:
"POV: You’re Neves looking at @MadBea at the start line:”

#FormulaAG #MarmoladaAGP #SilverMeansSecond
[Liked by Bea Ward]

ChesterFromChester: Sounds more like a Hart thing to do.
Zero: [A screencap from the same movie, with Bea’s face added over the original actress.]
MadBea: I guess that’s the Halloween costume settled. :D
Cats4Life: Big “Oof!” Villarosa.
AndesAG: shell catch up over the long distance
Xinny: Someone finally got fed up and stuffed a rag into the air intake of Stirling’s ship before the session.
GalwayGirl: Shush! They’ll find it now. :p
Laugh_Ness: mate, argies been mighty silent since tokyo. think they’re maybe finally realising the last good driver they produced was colapinto 70 years ago?
NineIron: Guy’s rolling in his grave so hard he could power Buenos Aires alone if they hooked him up to a genny every time Ibanez is on track anywhere.
_PsychoFish_: Nordic Call looking at their past and present rookies like “Frying pan and fire…”
Cookiesaurus: right in 1st sector too #washed
ForzaGl0ria: What you expect from a pineapple bandit?
TruckerTim: Canada committing war crimes against the barrier.
UrbanMaverick: I know you joked he looked suicidal after Tokyo but you might’ve been onto something there.
TruckerTim: I’ll take that job at Delphi now, thanks.
NeptuneQueen: As a lifelong Ambrogi fan I’m required to dislike Ward since 2091 but even I have to say that was one mother and fucker of a qualifying run.


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