World Grand Prix Championship Season 14: Roleplay Thread

[Mattijana]

Wilkomm Int Mattijana

Welcome To Mattijana

Grand Prix tsa Mattijana: Kopylov InternazionRing, Kranjagrad



Name of Grand Prix: Grand Prix tsa Mattijana
Qualifying Type: Two-stage
Length: 5.123 km (3.183 miles)
Race distance: 60 laps
Track Rating: Ag: 5.9/Tc 4.1
Lap record: 1:43.561 (Mattijana Racing Team test car)
Longest Straight: 1.3 KM

The Kopylov InternazionRing is found 15 minutes outside the small town of Kranjagrad and a further 1 hour from Mattijana's second city, Burges. It is the second oldest racing circuit (after the Petrovijanka Street Circuit) and the oldest purpose-built facility in the country. Although a classic feel is very much retained, the pit building, grandstands and safety facilities have recently been upgraded to comply with WGPC regulations, allowing the circuit to host a round of the championship.

For those travelling from overseas, the track has good road links from major cities and airports with the nearest rail station in Kranjagrad. This is directly linked to Burges International Airport and Burges City Station, which is in turn linked to Petrovijanka and Petrovijanka Airport by another high-speed rail link. Petrovijanka and Burges airport operate services to most of the multiverse.

Climate in the Centre-North of Mattijana is temperate with the nearby hills causing some weather disturbances. This can make weather fairly unpredictable and it is likely that there will be a few rain showers during the race weekend.


The circuit itself is characterised by the hills surrounding the flat start finish straight, which combine with sweeping corners to create a real challenge for the balance and aerodynamics of any car. Straight line speed must also be considered however, as the main overtaking opportunity is found after the two longest straights at the first corner.

The first turn is a slow to medium speed hairpin that challanges the breaking of a car which must negotiate a steep slope around a quarter of the way into the breaking zone. This makes turn 1 a good overtaking opportunity, particularly as it is preceded by a 1.3 km straight. From here, the track slopes steeply uphill through turn 2, a long left hander that can be taken flat out in a WGPC car. It then flattens out slightly before the entry to turns 3 and 4, a left to right chicane taken at a fairly low speed. Once again, the track goes upwards along a short straight before the more conventional turn 5, a 90° right-hander leading into a faster right-hander at turn 6 that can be taken with either a longer lift or a small touch of the brakes.
Another downhill straight follows that before the ever-tightening turn 7, a possible overtaking opportunity for braver drivers. Entry from that, however, is very important as the track once again slopes uphill along another straight before the tighter turn 8 which is a much more orthodox overtaking area. The exit to that precedes a small, downhill kink before the track takes a high speed chicane at turns 9 and 10 in order to avoid another hill.
Having squeezed through that valley, the cars must then brake downhill into a longer hairpin at turn 11, the run-off of which is situated on an artificial platform due to the steep nature of the hill after the turn. That is immediately followed by another downhill high-speed chicane at turns 12 and 13 which has a tight barrier on exit, likely to claim the suspension (and possibly more) of a few cars over the course of the weekend.
A flat section is finally found at turn 14, a very tight hairpin which requires another good exit as the next breaking point is back at turn 1 after two long straights, both allowing the use of a DRS, as well as the high speed right-hander at turn 15 that finishes the lap.

Full list of corner names:

1: Čaluka hairpin (named after the hill it's situated under).
2: Čaluka sling (commonly known as the sling).
3/4: Vischkolcha (Fishook chicane).
5: De Šumma (The summit, named because it is the highest point on the circuit).
6: Da Ausfleck (literally translates as 'the flick out').
7: Hollesbirjke (named after Mattijana's famous alpine sliding centre).
8-9: De Sava (the river: named due to it's flowing nature).
10: Erstglaub (named as it is the first time cars can be seen from the pit straight after turn 2).
11: Ezelhöchlas (cliffhanger, named as it's run off is on an artificial platform to deal with the steep slope).
12/13: Wasserkirjke (The waterslide).
14: Da Lebjalupe (survival loop, named as it comes after the most risky turn on the circuit at turn 13).
15: Kranjagrad (named after the village this part of the circuit is closest to).

The Mattijanan crowd are very excited about the event and will hopefully provide a great atmosphere for the race weekend.

[Aboveland]

Terho laid his coffee-filled Styrofoam cup on his nightstand and laid on the hotel bed. He'd just showered after an arduous gym session and decided to rest for a bit before heading off to the InterazionRing. He was still a bit worried about Edvin; not that he'd die at the hands of revolutionaries, but that he'd be detained for longer than needed. He knew revolutionary groups; they were volatile.

He stared out the window into Kranjagrad and admired the city. A few buildings dotted his view, but there was nothing spectacular to behold. The hills in the background complemented the thick blanket of gray clouds above, which made the Abovian a tad concerned it would rain for the race. His only crash so far had been in the rain, but it had been torrential. Soon enough his emotions began to get the best of him, and his neurotic self began to freak out. What if Edvin died? What if it began raining? What if the tall, serious-looking bushy-haired weatherman was wrong and it would in fact pour down on Sunday rather than clear up and be as hot as 23 degrees?

Thud.

Terho dropped onto the pillows adorning the top of the bed, consciously.

Keep it together.

Focus.

He knew all too well what happened when he worried.

Disaster.

He told himself to cut it out. He told himself it was just another race weekend. He told himself that Edvin wouldn't change his performance. He told himself everything would be alright.

He entered the multi-stream shower installed in the suite, with jets shooting out from all four walls, and sat down for a while. It was supposed to be relaxing. At first, it hurt, but then it became serene.

Half an hour later Terho got out. It was time to practice for the race. As he got into his racing clothes, relieved and glad, he laid down his objectives. Race with no doubt, race with no fear, race with no frills. And, mostly,

focus.

[Ethane]

Explosive News: Sports
WGPC

[Football] [Cricket] [Rugby] [Hockey] [Tennis] [Baseball] [Basketball] [Gaelic Football] [Other Sports]

Regaining Form?

After a set of disappointing race finishes, Ethan Ellis will be hoping that his time in the mid-season practice is indicative of him regaining his form, and getting back into the top few racers.

Ethan Ellis has not had the best past few weeks in terms of positioning. He has seen his positioning at the end of the race drop from around 5, which he was getting every race at the start of the season, to around 10th in the Liventian race, and the race that preceded it, only just clinching on to a point or two.

While Ellis has been having some problems in qualifying over the past few races with his car in qualifying, which has dampened his chances in those races because of those technical issues with the car, his inability to climb right back up into the top 5, and gain a substantial point load in races, has damaged his, and the teams prospects in this season.

However, if Ethan Ellis can get to a 8th place qualifying position, as the mid-season practice suggests, then Ellis would be in a much greater position to get a job lot of points in 1 race. In the previous few grand prix's, Ellis has been climbing up from the bottom of the order, 18th, 19th place, because of the poor qualifying runs that he was doing, and the technical issues with the car during those qualifying sessions, to get into the points, gaining 8,9,10 positions in a race.

Even though this is poor in the overall context of things, because of the extremely limited number of points he has been picking up in these races, the fact that he has managed to push so hard as to gain so many positions in a single 2 hour Grand Prix is indicative of his ability in this sport, and his ability to handle the pressure of the international level.

If Ethan Ellis can replicate the form that he has shown in the first few races and the mid-season practice in qualifying for the races, to get securely in the top 10 for the start of the race, and then replicate the racing he managed to do in those races where he was so far behind, and yet still managed to get some points, then he will be in for a good shot at the rest of these races, and hopefully be contending for his first podium finish.

However, if Ethan Ellis cannot replicate the form that he has shown separately in different weekends in the same weekend, then he will be condemning himself to poor finishes in Grand Prix's for the rest of this WGPC, because of the quality of his opponents in the racing field now.

[WGPC]

FRIDAY PRACTICE: Mattijana

* Conditions: Dry
* Drivers had 90 minutes to complete up to thirty laps of the track
* Fastest lap time is recorded below.

Pos # Driver			Team		Laptime		Behind Leader
 1 56 Terho Talvela                	1:43.760	0:00.000
 2 42 Alex Dimitrianov             	1:43.795	0:00.035
 3 89 Will Madison                 	1:43.892	0:00.132
 4 35 Jac-Irlo Val                 	1:43.893	0:00.132
 5  7 Ethan Ellis                  	1:43.956	0:00.195
 6 14 Oliver Bliss                 	1:43.974	0:00.214
 7 21 Alexander Kohlon             	1:44.030	0:00.269
 8 24 Victoria Gardner             	1:44.050	0:00.290
 9 51 R.L. Crusin                  	1:44.078	0:00.317
10 12 Vic Convarion                	1:44.082	0:00.322
11  8 Igne Spupuo                  	1:44.115	0:00.354
12 55 Asao Nadakei                 	1:44.166	0:00.405
13 46 Reni Sanderson               	1:44.172	0:00.412
14  6 Alexander Lund               	1:44.173	0:00.413
15 18 Louis Krindle                	1:44.238	0:00.478
16 29 Esteban Guilhermez           	1:44.252	0:00.491
17  1 Alexandra Mayari             	1:44.266	0:00.506
18 13 Gunnar Lindstrom             	1:44.326	0:00.566
19 10 Lauren Ashburton             	1:44.371	0:00.611
20 77 iBen Toralmintii             	1:44.382	0:00.621
21 17 Oliver Bachmann              	1:44.394	0:00.633
22  3 Mateo Oket                   	1:44.427	0:00.667
23 23 Moisés Delgado               	1:44.716	0:00.956
24 52 Sayono Souzare               	1:44.861	0:01.100

WGPC Motorworks will announce which driver will replace Marcus Melton after Sunday's race.

Neither Lindstrom nor Kohlon will be released. Both drivers are going to be retained as race drivers for the foreseeable future.

[Aboveland]

"Størtie!" rang through the intercom system in the V+T paddock.

Terho was prancing around the garage, gleaming at his performance. He'd gotten first place in the Friday practice session in Mattijana, with a miniscule difference between him and surprise finisher Alex Dimitrianov. This track was full of surprises as well; the weather he so loathed in the morning had cleared up in a matter of minutes, gifting him a nice, warm tarmac surface on which to race.

Before the mid-season practice he couldn't consider himself a technical track fanatic, or even a fair contender on one. He'd always be caught out by hairpins and right angle turns and quick successions of chicanes. This time, however, he did quite the opposite. Terho maneuvered the brand new Chassis Y' through the track like a master, flowing in and out of tricky corners like mercury in a thermometer. Even better, he had his fair share of competitive times, coming out victorious near the end of the session by just .035 seconds. His practice victory gave him a not required (but recommended) confidence boost, one that really came in handy to claw his way back to the top of the drivers' standings in the championship.

[Deiorus]

Spupuo was waiting calmly for the journalist from Deiorus Post as he twiddled his fingers. When he heard the door open Spupuo made it clear that he was annoyed from the waiting “Finally, do you know how many times you guys delayed this? Not that I expect any efficiency and planning from you guys but-”, the journalist quickly interrupted Spupuo “Hold on a second there, let me record this interview before you waste one of your valuable rants on me”, Spupuo was quite annoyed that the interviewer was self-aware to this degree but continued to go along “Please take your time, you already took almost 2 weeks! Besides, cameras? When did Deiorus get TV channel?”

The journalist in a happy tone decided to give Spupuo the news “Well, it seems like they decided to get a propaganda outlet that showed pretty pictures and wasn't just words, besides the foreign aid workers are teaching the peasants to read so we will have to change the tone of every state media company from 'telling the elites the truth' to 'brainwashing plebs' as we expand our formats, at least that's what I was told.”, the journalist turned sarcastic as he continued “Now If you want to look like a stuck-up to the public, please do continue with your rants, I'm sure your family company won't get a negative reputation from your public image.”, Spupuo was visibly annoyed by the journalist's comments while responding, “Alright, let's get this over clean and calm as possible”.

The interview started with the classic pleasantries with Spupuo getting over his annoyances and switching to a calm mood but when the journalist went on with the interviews' first question of “After your abysmal performance at Liventia, do you think you deserve to be a Deiorii” the tone and the direction of the interview seem to had been set, Spupuo surprisingly stayed calm and didn't shot back “I don't think my talent can be judged on one single event, with a win at Eastfield Lodge and a decent podium finish in the mid-season practice I'd consider myself still the 'finest of Deiorus', I think I'll get over that result quite quickly as there is nothing to dwell over”, the interview continued with weak shots at Spupuo as the second question was about the driver standings “With the gap between you and Toralmintii growing larger, do you think 1st place is still a reachable goal?”, Spupuo was still calm and the questions hadn't fazed him “I think it's way too early to judge that with 7 more events to go, he could screw up in Mattijana and Suojärvi and I'd be on top but even then my lead wouldn't matter as there still would be 5 more events”, the journalist realised that it was pointless to get a reaction from him and decided to continue the interview with fluff questions instead “So with Telaris Racing requiring all staff to learn Spanish, how has your efforts been going?”, Spupuo's mood quickly turned happy around with tone of the interview changing “Pretty bad, I can barely speak English, I don't see myself being fluent unless I get a 5 year contract extension.”, the journalist realised the time was passing and decided to end it “Thank you for your time and-”, Spupuo was quick to interrupt “Wait what, only 3 questions? You got sent across the world with a camera group for 3 questions? What kind of crap is this?”, the journalist in a disappointed tone went “Well, the TV channel is only going to be on 8 hours a day, and sports news isn't going to get more than 20 minutes, as I said, thank you for your time and may the gods bless you in Mattijana”

The news crew got out of the room in a flash as Spupuo contemplated with his hand in his face, “Deserve to be a Deiorii? Deiorus doesn't deserve to have me as a citizen! How incompetent and stupid does a government have to be to blow a weeks worth of everyone's wage in the country for an athlete to compete on the global stage then blow another half-days to send a news crew to ask him a few questions for a station that no one can watch because no one can afford a television due to the taxes! I am ashamed of myself for being part of this mess. As soon as I get my contract bonus, I'm going to move every single member of my family from that hell-hole” his contemplation ended as an excited Nothotad quickly and loudly rushed into the room, yelling “HOW DID IT GO?”, Spupuo still hunched over with his hand on his face responded “The usual, vapid questions done quickly. Why? What's happening?”, Nothotad's excitement continued “Deiorus is expanding to satellite television! Talk about exposure!” Spupuo's attitude didn't change as he let his hands off his face “Oh good, SATELLITE television, not like the channel was inaccessible enough.” Nothotad was quick to answer with his chipper attitude “Of course it's going to be on satellite television, It's for foreigners to learn about Deiorus culture and all that stuff, maybe we could finally find you some private sponsorships with that channel up air.” Spupuo with a tired voice responded “Oh, that's good news to hear, could I ask you to clean rest of my schedule for today? I want to get some extra rest, the practise has been more taxing than I expected”, Nothothad was in deep though about advertisement opportunities as he allowed him to end the day early. While Spupuo was walking to his room to get some rest thought to himself “Oh, brainwash the foreign aid workers and other foreigners instead of the peasants? Len and his “playing chess while others are playing checkers” type of shiftiness is only going to weaken his rule”

[Dunpa]

After Practice

"7th. WOW! Ever since the mid-season practice, I've
done a lot better than I usually do." Alex said to Mike.

"Now let's turn that top 10 practice into a top 10 finish here! If we get a top 10, Dunpa will get more exposure in the motorsports world." Mike said to Alexander and his pit crew.

"Now, let's get a hotel room so we can relax." Mike said.

[WGPC]

CUT OFF time for qualifying.

[Banguela]

Although the feeble attempts from the sun to keep its beams above the hills surrounding Kranjagrad had nearly come to an end, the grandstand surrounding the start-finish still was lively. Galicio, one hand strategically placed above his eyes, gazed upon the boxes where ant-like mechanics still were doing their thing in a seemingly unorchestrated pile of tires, lollipops and waving arms. With the Friday practice being over, many of the thousands of fans that had cheered on home favourite Dimitrianov to a runner-up position left their seat and tried to catch a calm night for the remainder of an exciting weekend.

”Ah... That was great,” Galicio proclaimed to no one in particular, ”I just like the smell of burning rubber in the eve-“
”Oh, can you stop using that stupid quote,” Afonso reacted and the snappiness of his reply made clear that there was no room for correction.

He had been nervous all day, painstakingly trying to have cell phone conversations despite the continuous eardrum-tearing sound of race cars. In a way, Afonso should have been satisfied with the results so far. First of all, he had acquired a time slot to discuss a possible future with the people from WGPC Motorworks. Their conviction to find a quick solution to replace Marcus Melton could play into his advantage and interestingly, the results of today told him that the car was far more reliable than the constructors’ tables would tell you. But the realisation that their chat with the team bosses would just be one of the many was increasingly clear. There was no time for Galicio to prove himself behind the wheel, so all would depend upon the craftsmanship of himself. Even if they make clearheaded thinking hard, the screeching sounds of cars going into the Caluka didn’t defeat that one lingering realisation. His position was on the edge after... well... and there were others around, people with conflicting agendas, who knew it was just the tip of the iceberg.

Going back home is no longer an option.

Afonso was so distracted by his own mind-wandering that he had not noticed that there was something less cocky than usual about the way Galicio had uttered the words. At times, he had been following the cars beneath them like a six-year old who discovers that they not only play sports in his backyard, but also in majestic arenas with thousands of fans: eyes fixed on everything that moves, jaw dropping from time to time and only thinking about primary functions such as eating when someone else instructs him to. He knew racing, that’s right but this was... A continuous dog fight. Table leader Toralmintii and reigning champ Mayari had lost half a second of dash but it suddenly ranked them far down in the lower belly of the peloton. If you drop half a second of your regular time in Banguela, Galicio realised, you drop to third - at worst. The words ‘margin for error’ suddenly earned a brand-new twist.

And so it seemed that the only one capable of relaxing during that fairly sunny afternoon, the typical local shower notwithstanding, had been Hernando who was slurping what must have been his tenth beer of the day. Ironical as for him, even more than the alcohol, the rumbling noises from cars making their way up to one of the longest straights of the Championship had been as calming as a roll of Valium with mint flavour. Saying that he loved cars was an understatement and even if it was, by far, a simplification of his character, just being present here suddenly made sense. The out-of-the-blue remarks from Galicio, the annoyed whispering from Afonso, ... It all disappeared for one amazing feeling, being part of all this from front row. And what truly marked his character is that he refused to bath in that sentiment alone.

”This is the best, Galicio, and I’m underselling it.”

His protégé nodded, awkwardly trying to balance the enthusiasm of the fan and the fear from the untested sportsman.

”These are the best indeed.”

[WGPC]

Round One

* #1 Alexandra Mayari was not entered into qualifying
* Conditions: Changeable
* Drivers have 45 minutes to record up to six flying laps.
* Fastest lap is recorded
* Top ten drivers move to round two of qualifying
* Remaining 13 drivers are eliminated

Pos	#	Driver			Team				Laptime		
1	51	R.L. Crusin		Carvenlo-Franklin Racing	1:45.764
2	56	Terho Talvela		VTM				1:45.951
3	7	Ethan Ellis		Carvenlo-Franklin Racing	1:45.963
4	21	Alexander Kohlon	WGPC Motorworks			1:46.027
5	89	Will Madison		Fornax Racing			1:46.291
6	24	Victoria Gardner	SFeG				1:46.297
7	14	Oliver Bliss		MSA-Sinval			1:46.297
8	13	Gunnar Lindstrom	WGPC Motorworks			1:46.373
9	8	Igne Spupuo		Telaris Racing			1:46.460
10	55	Asao Nadakei		ENSADRINK GP			1:46.479
11	46	Reni Sanderson		McPahan Racing			1:46.596
12	10	Lauren Ashburton	ENSADRINK GP			1:46.605
13	18	Louis Krindle		MSA-SinVal			1:46.683
14	77	iBen Toralmintii	VTM				1:46.892
15	3	Mateo Oket		Archer Motorsports		1:46.892
16	6	Alexander Lund		McPahan Racing			1:47.076
17	42	Alex Dimitrianov	MRT				1:47.147
18	12	Vic Convarion		Telaris Racing			1:47.348
19	17	Oliver Bachmann		MRT				1:47.464
20	29	Esteban Guilhermez	Cygnus ATR			1:48.102
21	23	Moisés Delgado		Cygnus ATR			1:48.959
22	52	Sayono Souzare		Archer Motorsports		1:49.025
23	35	Jac-Irlo Val		Fornax Racing			1:49.068

Round Two

* Top ten drivers are given 30 minutes to record up to four flying laps
* Fastest lap of this period is recorded

Pos	#	Driver			Team				Laptime	
1	56	Terho Talvela		VTM				1:45.695
2	55	Asao Nadakei		ENSADRINK GP			1:46.799
3	24	Victoria Gardner	SFeG				1:47.013
4	89	Will Madison		Fornax Racing			1:48.057
5	8	Igne Spupuo		Telaris Racing			1:49.569
6	14	Oliver Bliss		MSA-Sinval			1:52.527
7	7	Ethan Ellis		Carvenlo-Franklin Racing	1:53.823
8	51	R.L. Crusin		Carvenlo-Franklin Racing	1:54.905
9	13	Gunnar Lindstrom	WGPC Motorworks			1:55.742
10	21	Alexander Kohlon	WGPC Motorworks			2:00.239

Final Grid Positions

* Drivers eliminated in round one of qualifying line up in the order in which they finished in that session.

Pos # Driver			Team
 1 56 Terho Talvela           
 2 55 Asao Nadakei            
 3 24 Victoria Gardner        
 4 89 Will Madison            
 5  8 Igne Spupuo             
 6 14 Oliver Bliss            
 7  7 Ethan Ellis             
 8 51 R.L. Crusin             
 9 13 Gunnar Lindstrom        
10 21 Alexander Kohlon        
11 46 Reni Sanderson          
12 10 Lauren Ashburton        
13 18 Louis Krindle           
14 77 iBen Toralmintii        
15  3 Mateo Oket              
16  6 Alexander Lund          
17 42 Alex Dimitrianov        
18 12 Vic Convarion           
19 17 Oliver Bachmann         
20 29 Esteban Guilhermez      
21 23 Moisés Delgado          
22 52 Sayono Souzare          
23 35 Jac-Irlo Val        

Starting Grid

WGPC Motorworks will retain the services of Lindstrom and Kohlon for at least the next four races.
A decision regarding the status of a third driver will be made on Monday.

[Aboveland]

iBen approached Terho to give him a pat on the back and congratulate him for his pole position. He'd been eagerly awaiting this moment, his first qualifying triumph, since he'd started the season. To achieve it on what used to be a tricky track, and without the moral support of his best friend, made it all the sweeter. However, all that shone was not gold. To edge ahead of the pack on the first lap he'd have to go wide and then close back in for the first turn, so as to block out the outside line that Asao Nadakei was likely to take advantage of. He didn't trust the Ensadrink car enough to actually overtake his fresh machine, but it had gotten second place, so there was a hefty amount of pros to it, regardless of whether it was the car or the track.

He didn't take too much time to plan his lap one strategy. He'd decided to keep to the middle and block Nadakei out of the first two or three turns, but as long as he made it to the straight between turns 4 and 5 in first place he could maintain his pace without much hassle and take a triumphant win. The fair, unpredictable weather was slightly concerning, as he'd have to plan out his tire strategy on the fly, but there was nothing about the race day that got him worked up. He was self-assured as he'd never been before.

Focus.

[Vulkanas]

As Gunnar crossed the line after his final flying lap, he began to back off in the car and read the information on his steering wheel. He wasn't expecting much - the WGPC Motorworks team hadn't been up in the top 10 so far this season, and his previous lap wasn't one to remember. Then he saw the steering wheel reading "P8". What? Eighth? Him? He couldn't believe it. Just as he was realising that he'd made the top ten, his race engineer Johan came on the radio "That's P8! What a lap! We're through to the next session! Great driving!" Gunnar was going to reply, but he didn't have anything to say. He'd been preparing for more interviews about the car setup feeling bad, or controversy about his drive this season... But it looked like those would have to wait. He had another qualifying session to do.

There was a truly ecstatic atmosphere in the garage as he was pushed back in. He looked at the timings once his monitor was put in place. The real surprise for him was his teammate - P4?!? The others really must have been sandbagging... Either way it was time to focus. After all, he hadn't qualified anywhere yet.

---

As his fourth flying lap was completed, he looked down at the wheel again, if anything afraid of what it could mean. "P9" it read. It was a great result for him and the team. "Yes! P9 for the race! And we're ahead of Alex. Great work." Johan was always excited, even for last place. But this time he had good reason to be happy. This was crazy! A first top 10 qualification for Lindström and for WGPC Motorworks.

Gunnar parked his car in the parc ferme area, and took a moment to breathe a sigh of relief before stepping out. What a rush - he wasn't going to sleep tonight that's for sure. He then stepped out of his car, being oddly careful about putting back the steering wheel and head support. He didn't really know why. He was just so happy with how the car felt. He hadn't even taken his helmet off yet, but he shook hands with his teammate, who he now knew he had outqualified - even better. His old friend Terho Talvela was celebrating across the fencing with his team, and Gunnar decided he would also congratulate him on his pole position. "Good work on the pole position, but you know I'm catching you! Better watch in your mirrors tomorrow!" he said in his typical Nordic humour. Terho just smiled and gave him a hearty hug.

He couldn't celebrate for too long though - there weren't any prizes for qualifying. The race is all that counts.

[Vilita and Turori]

Kopylov InternazionRing, Kranjagrad, Mattijana :: iBen Toralmintii had been sitting in the paddock de-briefing his car chief when Terho Talvela pulled the shiny new Chassis Y' in beside Toralmintii's #23 ride. Toralmintii had posted a middle of the pack time in the first round of qualifying and as such, failed to advance to Round 2.

His teammate Talvela, on the other hand, had posted the second fastest time in Round One, second only to the Vilitan R. L. Cruisin. Toralmintii could only muster the 14th fastest time, while the two drivers beside him in the paddock - and just behind him in the championship standings - were sitting in first and second.

Cruisin couldn't duplicate his Round One speed in the second session, falling back one place behind his Carvenlo-Franklin Racing teammate Ethan Ellis to 8th spot on the grid. Talvela, however, didn't lose any time and took advantage of Cruisin's slip-up to claim top spot on the grid for the first time.

As Talvela exited his cockpit, Toralmintii walked over to him, gave him a pat on the back and congratulated him for taking pole. Then Toralmintii returned to his car and started his race preparations. He knew he had to climb back into the points come race day, as a win for Talvela or Cruisin would erase his buffer atop the drivers standings.

Studying the starting grid, Toralmintii also cursed the fact that the two WGPC works cars were ahead of him, side by side in the starting grid. He knew that VT Motorworks had been working to keep the cars competitive but he just hoped they could hold it together going into the first turn and not stop up the field. With both Cruisin and Talvela on the front side of the Works vehicles, Toralmintii knew if he couldn't get around them early he could be in for a long, costly day.

---

[Nekoni]

NTR News Network // 8, May 2016 EVENING EDTION
WGPC Star Declared Missing

Police in Mattijana have publically announced the disappearance of the WGPC reigning champion, Alexandra Mayari. Her last known whereabouts were at the Kopylov InternazionRing, Friday afternoon, having completed a practice session on the course. Mayari, currently struggling with her title defense, has already had her year plagued by mediocre results and an ongoing hand injury caused by crashing in Liventia, and the following events only add to a long list of controversies surrounding the SFeG team.

Police in Mattijana and Nekoni are working together with SFeG and the KIR circuit owners to gather information leading to Mayari's whereabouts and hopefully safe return. The team's chief, Francesco Rabandt, was contacted earlier today.

"It is with great sadness that we report her disappearance, and naturally we are fighting tooth and nail to find her again. As far as we know, this was against her will. Even with the results of the team, she was a bright, valued member of the team, and SFeG would not be what it is without her. If anybody at all has any information about her whereabouts, please, we beg of you, notify the police at the soonest opportunity."

When asked about the ongoing legal troubles of former principal, Christian Fatali, he responded, "He is not a member of the team. We do not comment on speculation upon former personnel. The two cases could be connected, but they also could not be, the team has cut ties with Fatali since the suspension, and whilst bad blood between the two has been noticed and publicised, the team itself has no place in the issue. If he is involved, then naturally I will call for the strongest legal action on behalf of the team."

[Banguela]

Fix it

No phone call, no sentence, not even being bothered about adding some punctuation marks. The reaction left nothing to my imagination about the sentiments with which ‘Send’ had been pressed. I knew that I needed to get my expressions under control, but could feel how sweat slowly constructed a kiddie pool in my armpits. The vibration of the money in the suitcase, just a small part of the minor treasure available, made my teeth rattle so when the secretary told me ‘Mister Afonso Ruiz da Kavenge’ was allowed to enter, I failed to mutter a simple apology.

It had started so embarrassingly stupid. More than often, you would read about such instances on the internet when not-so-clever tourists let themselves get pushed an unnamed package in their hands by a much-more-clever swindler and stroll back into their country. Romero, a friend of a friend who had known the right addresses for an enjoyable evening to put a big line underneath a tiring business trip, had been the trickster. And the tourist? Me.

”You know Augusto quite well, right? Just hand it to him, will you?”

That’s the least I could do. What an utterly silly sentence to mumble, I realised when I walked away the next evening from Augusto, not only a closer relative to the president but also a main figure in governmental decision making. But that was not the only thing that broke through to me just half an hour after I saw Augusto tear open the bag, gazing upon eight kilos of pure heroine. First of all, they must have chosen me as a frequent traveller and nephew to a transportation vice-minister. The kind of combination that assures that the border patrol guards don’t trawl through my possessions biweekly but open the gates whilst keeping everyone else in line.

But secondly, I felt the weight of the roll of Longas in my pocket as I walked away and realised that if they could pay me such a bundle of cash, what a lucrative business I had accidently stumbled into. It was the start of a golden era. You often see it in movies, two rash youngsters who could buy extravagant cars and make love to the most ravish girls of their overwhelming pool party on top of a massive pile of cash, but that it ever would become truth seemed ludicrous. Augusto had already set up the basic business model, using his role in the Transportation Department to spread around the dope efficiently whilst I formed the liaison with our producer. What had been small, infrequent packages became suitcases stuffed with the powder and still guards would wave and smile to me – only recently I learned which ones had their part of the deal.

It blew up. Of course it had to blow up. More correctly, it is blowing up as we speak. The only thing that keeps us standing now are the powerful friends and family we had gathered over the years. But when those make it very clear to you that you have to solve it, whatever that means, you know what is up. Who had made the decisive mistake would always remain an unanswered question but that Augusto felt like putting the blame on me was crystal-clear. One of the great parts about this trade is that there was not too key evidence that couldn’t take a bullet to the brain but… The money. Alarmed, Augusto had begged me to burn it, put it in a ditch, he didn’t care.

I did.

I had not toiled for so long to leave the premises with empty pockets and a wrecked reputation. I wanted at least one and preferably both. All I needed was clean money and a seemingly uncompromised foreign business opportunity. Preferably one where, if shit hit the van, the results were too noble to ruin it. But until then, I was just a reliable business man representing a talented race car driver with money from a respectable building company and oil firm, trying to grab an unexpected seat in the biggest race spectacle in the multiverse.

For those fearing a complete sidestory to follow which has nothing to do with racing, do not fear. Consider this post rather a background explanation.

[Drawkland]

"It's absolutely ridiculous!" Will sputtered over the phone.
"Come now, Will. It can't be THAT bad," replied the voice over the speaker.
"Oh yes it can be that bad, Gerald," Will responded with a small chuff.
"Don't talk back to your big brother like that!" responded the voice, with obvious joking in the tone.
"What did you expect? Perfect wins? Tell me how the Net Corps did at IBC 19. Undefeated right?"
".... you have a point there."
The call was unexpected for Will. He'd just gotten to his hotel room in Mattijana after race quals, when his phone buzzed, a call from his older brother, Gerald Madison. Gerald was a Center for the Drawk Corps basketball team, and the soon-to-be two-time Center for the Net Corps, Drawkland's national basketball team. Will resented him somewhat, since basketball popularity had skyrocketed, and Gerald's with it, while Will was stuck on the racing sideshow.
"Think of it this way. It's like watching tapes of a team practicing, and they're sucking at dribbling and bumping each other, can't even make the ball into the hoop except maybe one or two guys, have easily penetratable defense and stoppable offense, and you feel good. Then the day of the game comes, and they come onto the court for warmup, and they're nailing layups and 3 pointers and are in perfect sync. And then your teammate sprains his ankle but still has to play the game," Will illustrated a metaphor.
"And then we get stomped and lose by like 20 points?" Gerald finished expectantly.
"Exactly! That's basically what this entire friggen season has been. Except for one race that equates to your teammate spraining his ankle in the last minute of the game while you have a narrow lead and losing it, and then one where you're leading at the half and then both fall and break your leg walking out to play in the 3rd," Will continued in metaphorical terms.
"Man, screw that," Gerald said after a moment.
Will just sighed to himself, realizing the pathetic complaining of his situation. He could feel that Gerald didn't REALLY care. If he wanted sympathy, he should've had a chat with his sister Rylee instead. After another moment of silence, Gerald spoke again.
"You know what I think?"
"What?"
"You should've stuck with drum majoring!" Gerald said with glee. The call was cut before Will could shove several expletives through the line, so he resorted to cursing to himself.
What an absolute prick. I can't believe I'm related to him, Will thought.

His screen lit up again. This time it wasn't a sibling, but Jerry Mannar, Will's pseudo-coach. Will knew this conversation would end at least slightly better.
"Hello?" he said as he accepted the call.
"Hey, Will."
"Yeah, Mannar? What's the deal? DISC starting to threaten you too?"
"You betcha. Listen, I don't care much about me, but I don't want those goons going after you. You NEED to get a podium spot on this race. You're in a finer position than you've ever been, so go and take what you deserve, for once" he old man instructed over the device.
"Alright. I will. Promise."
"Good."
A beat passed and Will decided to go for some conversation.
"Think they threaten all the teams they send out?"
"I doubt it," Mannar replied dryly, "It's a lot easier to threaten a single dude than it is a team. A team, you can blame on bad selection, maybe difficulty to connect as a team. In this context, they can just yell at one dude that he sucks. The fact that they chose you means they expected you to suck the least, and see where you're at now."
"That does make sense," Will conceded.
"Anyways, with the World Bowl about to come on home ground, and the IBC on its way, you have a lot of pressure off you since they have more important matters to attend to. So for once, race for YOU instead of for the sport mafia."
"I can do that."
"Good. And don't worry about Jac-Irlo. Any placement at this point would be an improvement for him," Mannar said. Will felt bad for Jac in that moment but he let the comment slide. Mannar meant good from it.
"Remember Harry?" Mannar said softer.
"Harry Meyer? Yeah. We won the national circuit together, how could I forget?"
"I feel like you might've forgotten the season before," the coach replied shortly, before ending the call.

Will was confused for a moment, but as the memory came back to him he realized what Mannar meant. The season before they went on to win the championship, Will and Harry struggled together with Drawk Corps racing. Harry finished dead last several times, and crashed a couple others. He didn't even hit the top 10 until the last race of the season. Will was no spring flower either, as he didn't even hit the podium until the last race.
The Corps considered dropping them, but Mannar came in for a long discussion and probably a bit of bribery, and the duo returned for the next season with the Corps. The offseason had been busy, but they returned with such ferocity and synchronicity that one commentator swore that "the Corps had body doubles with better racing skills this time".
Will struggled to remember what had been the turning point that got them to really work like a team and be the best at racing as they could be, and the source hit him all suddenly. He whipped out his phone and texted Mannar.

Hey, next week, we need to drop by home and grab a copy of DrawkKart 7. And some cables I bet.

A moment later, a return text came back.

I knew it. I'll get you covered, don't you worry.

Will sat back on the bed with a smile on his face. Sure, playing a kiddie racing video game doesn't amount to much actual racing skill, but it worked in the past, somehow. And he knew it would at least bring the two Fornax racers closer, which couldn't be a bad thing.
He got off the bed and decided to go out to Jac-Irlo's room next door and talk to him to get him hyped to maybe not come in read last or crash out the next race. Hopefully he wasn't asleep. Or doing something else.

[Barunia]

When Henry Baltimore signed Sayono Souzare at the start of the season, he'd promised her that the car would not fall apart. He was right about that, the car had stayed together well enough. It was the team that was falling apart.

Archer had lacked cohesion right from the outset this season. What had started out as a few bad races before they really got going had blown out to a horror streak. All the evidence, all the trials, suggested the new car was better than the old. Gil said there were no major problems, and when someone of Gil's experience said that you just had to believe them. No, the problem lay with the team.

The team was chaos. Things often got lost in translation when talking to Makeo Oket, and his translator, Jamie Setoto did not see eye to eye with Ben Cunningham, Henry's boss. Sayono's old insecurities and self-doubt from last season appeared to have returned with a vengeance, and Henry could barely get a word out of her. Gil was tired of hearing complaints about the car and had clashed with the drivers over the poor performance on more then one occasion. Henry himself was feeling the pressure, with Ben breathing down his neck to improve the results, and the rest of the team complaining as well.

Henry looked back over the data. Liventia had been the best race for Archer so far, and it had been Oket who'd scored 6 points, so far the only Archer driver to score anything. That track had seemed to suit the Archer WF2, with Souzare also posting her season best that race. Archer needed more like that, to get better...that was Henry's job. The thing is, though Henry, I haven't the faintest idea how I'm going to do it.

Sayono would be starting the next race on the last line of the grid. Henry was really concerned about the Hodoran driver. Last season it had been Lauren with whom she'd been closest, and now Ashburton wasn't with Archer it was like Henry had no way of reaching Sayono. Oh sure, she was professional, but she didn't open up, and she hardly spoke to Oket at all. Henry got the feeling she was not impressed by her co-driver. Souzare and Oket, Gil and the drivers, Ben and Setoto, Ben and Henry, Henry and everyone. Archer prided themselves on being a family, but at the moment this family was at war within itself. It needed something to put them back together. Perhaps it was a victory, something to share.

Both drivers had their instructions: get on the board.

[Eastfield Lodge]

It had been a mixed day today for Vicky. On one hand, getting third in qualifying marked what was a terrific qualifying session for the Eastfielder, especially in the changeable conditions. On the other hand, Mayari was missing.

The day had started bright (figuratively), as Victoria was confident she could build on the 8th place she achieved in qualification. She got up early, had breakfast, showered and so on, before heading down to the track for the pre-qualifying briefing session. Patrice was there, along with the usual crowd, but there was an empty chair. It was unlike Mayari to be late for one of these, but Patrice decided to let her off the hook this once and waited it out. Ten minutes went by, still no sign. Another twenty minutes, and it was clear something was amiss. Half an hour had passed and there wasn't a peep from Mayari, not even a message saying that she might be late or something. Patrice was clearly starting to look worried, and decided to send somebody to see what was up. Meanwhile, he decided to just go through the session with regards to Victoria, going through the predicted weather pattern, given that it was currently raining on track, and then the likely tyres that would go along with it. It looked like it would be a wet tyre early on, but the rain looked like it would clear up quickly, opening up the track more - might even get onto the dry tyres by the end of the first session. Then they went on to look at her practice runs, which were generally quite solid, largely in the high 1:44s/low 1:45s; both Patrice and Victoria were confident of getting a top 10 spot.

With that over, there was nothing left to say until Mayari turned up. At that point, one the engineers in the room passed their phone to Patrice, with their face clearly betraying the contents of the message. There wasn't a sound coming from Mayari's room, and worse still, the door was unlocked and the room was in a mess. Patrice immediately got out his mobile and started calling Mayari, but there was no answer. The meeting room was deathly silent, until Patrice announced they were going to prepare both cars as usual, and hope that Mayari turned up before qualifying. Otherwise they would escalate the matter to the police. And as qualifying approached, the tension just grew more and more in the garage. Everybody was trying to focus, and those who actually had a job to do at the time were in a better position. Vicky was just fretting about Mayari, not just her teammate but one of her closest friends; she couldn't focus on the task ahead.

Qualifying started, and the team resigned itself. Mayari may just have gone missing, and the matter had been escalated to the police. Nobody else had gotten wind of it just yet, but it wouldn't be long; the eyes of the world wouldn't take long to notice that the defending champion wasn't taking part, and the journalists hovering around the paddock were already spreading rumours. But now, it was just a matter of qualifying for Victoria, trying to put those negative thoughts aside for one moment. As was said in the pre-qualifying meeting, the track was soaking wet, but the rain was more or less done for the moment, and the cars were gingerly making their way onto the track - all the early runners got in some laps on the wet tyres, and Victoria was one of them, posting a decent mark of 1:48.3 in her first couple of laps. A drier line had begun to appear, and she pulled in, asking for intermediates. They worked wonders, but the continuous smattering of drizzle stopped the track from fully drying out, leaving intermediates as the only option. On she went, and she managed to push herself into 4th before coming back in. A time of 1:46.723 was good, but it didn't look safe with the track moving further into the intermediate's optimum range. She went back out on a fresh set, and pounded around for two laps, first pushing her time down to 1:46.439, and then a great 1:46.297, eventually good enough for P6. She was happy with herself, it was exactly where she needed to be.

By the time she pulled up into the SFeG garage, she could hear the noise emanating from the back where there were, she assumed, a horde of journalists clamouring for an answer as to Mayari's whereabouts. She just paid them no attention, thinking that a statement would come from higher up before too long. She had a second session to look ahead to, she needed to examine her lines, and double check the weather. Minna came over, clearly anxious and frustrated, but calmly saying that heavy rain was on the horizon again, and they had to get a good lap in quickly before the track got too wet. The drizzle outside had already gotten that little bit heavier, and it was beginning to stand in some places, but that didn't matter at the moment. What mattered is what state would the track be in when the second session started in 5 minutes. And the answer was, not too bad. Just enough to get one run on the inters, possibly, before the rain made it too bad. She decided to jump to the head of the queue and left the garage as early as she dared to. That she did, but Talvela got ahead of her and a couple of others had the same idea as they queued up at the end of the pit lane. Lights out and off they went, with Victoria near the front up the pack, trying to keep the heat in the tyres up and trying to feel for grip that was quickly disappearing. She managed to keep the car stable and coming around for the start-finish straight she followed through the distant spray of Talvela's car, who had some free track. Which wasn't the case for Victoria, as the team radio buzzed informing her that Oliver Bliss had just exited the pits in front of her, much to her annoyance. Bliss tried to dive out the way at turn 3, which only served to kick up spray into Victoria's vision meaning she had to do the corner blind, and nearly slid the car wide, losing some precious time. She recovered, and managed to keep the rest of her lap clean, posting a 1:47.013.

At this point, the weather was clearly getting worse, and the grip was harder to find, so Victoria called it a day there and retired to the pits, and hoped. It paid off, as she was one of the few decent laps posted, beating Will Madison to third by over a second. However, she was slightly annoyed at Bliss now - it looked like that unexpected move across which made her stumble had deprived her of a front row start - that one corner could easily have cost her the two tenths gap to Asao Nadakei in second. Back in the garage, it was still a subdued atmosphere, reflected quite well by the now stormy weather outside. There wasn't much they could do now, it was out of their hands. They still had a race tomorrow, and they had to prepare the cars for that, but the mood was despondent, and would remain that way for the rest of the evening.

[WGPC]

New drivers looking for seats? Experienced ones doing everything to keep their own? A national treasure kidnapped? Has a beloved character come back from the dead? It all sounds eerily familiar. CUT OFF for race five.

Delayed by only four hours this time!

[WGPC]

Race Five: Grand Prix tsa Mattijana

* Conditions: Changeable
* Laps: 60

Pos # Driver		Team			Race time	Behind prev. car
 1 56 Terho Talvela              	1:56:17.745	+0:00.000
 2 55 Asao Nadakei               	1:56:53.409	+0:35.663
 3 24 Victoria Gardner           	1:57:16.161	+0:22.753
 4 14 Oliver Bliss               	1:57:25.139	+0:08.978
 5 51 R.L. Crusin                	1:57:29.763	+0:04.624
 6 13 Gunnar Lindstrom           	1:57:41.144	+0:11.382
 7 46 Reni Sanderson             	1:57:55.495	+0:14.350
 8 21 Alexander Kohlon           	1:58:11.526	+0:16.031
 9 77 iBen Toralmintii           	Ret. Lap 60
10 17 Oliver Bachmann            	-1		+0:26.210
11  3 Mateo Oket                 	-1		+0:08.105
12 42 Alex Dimitrianov           	-1		+0:00.841
13  6 Alexander Lund             	-1		+0:06.800
14 10 Lauren Ashburton           	-1		+0:01.785
15 12 Vic Convarion              	-1		+0:03.140
16 29 Esteban Guilhermez         	-1		+0:18.107
17 52 Sayono Souzare             	-1		+0:20.699

DNF 35 Jac-Irlo Val               	Ret. Lap 55		
DNF  7 Ethan Ellis                	Ret. Lap 46	
DNF 23 Moisés Delgado             	Ret. Lap 36
DNF  8 Igne Spupuo                	Ret. Lap 21
DNF 89 Will Madison               	Ret. Lap 10	
DNF 18 Louis Krindle              	Ret. Lap 2

Drivers' Championship Standings

Pos	#	Name			Team				Pts
1	77	iBen Toralmintii	VTM				55
2	56	Terho Talvela		VTM				52
3	14	Oliver Bliss		MSA-SinVal			38
4	51	R.L. Crusin		Carvenlo-Franklin Racing	37
5	8	Igne Spupuo		Telaris Racing			35
6	24	Victoria Gardner	SFeG				34
7	55	Asao Nadakei		ENSADRINK GP			32
8	6	Alexander Lund		McPahan Racing			29
9	18	Louis Krindle		MSA-SinVal			28
10	7	Ethan Ellis		Carvenlo-Franklin Racing	19
10	46	Reni Sanderson		McPahan Racing			19
12	12	Vic Convarion		Telaris Racing			18
13	10	Lauren Ashburton	ENSADRINK GP			13
13	89	Will Madison		Fornax Racing			13
15	3	Mateo Oket		Archer Motorsports		7
16	1	Alexandra Mayari	SFeG				6
16	13	Gunnar Lindstrom	WGPC Motorworks			6
18	29	Esteban Guilhermez	Cygnus ATR			4
18	17	Oliver Bachmann		MRT				4
20	21	Alexander Kohlon	WGPC Motorworks			3
21	42	Alex Dimitrianov	MRT				2
22	23	Moisés Delgado		Cygnus ATR			1
23	52	Sayono Souzare		Archer Motorsports		0
23	35	Jac-Irlo Val		Fornax Racing			0
23	20	Marcus Melton		WGPC Motorworks			0

Constructors' Championship Standings

VTM				107
MSA-Sinval			66
Carvenlo-Franklin Racing	56
Telaris Racing			53
McPahan Racing			48
ENSADRINK GP			45
SFeG				40
Fornax Racing			13
WGPC Motorsports		9
Archer Motorsports		7
MRT				6
Cygnus ATR			5

[Aboveland]

It was when the fishtail behind him waned that Terho threw his arms up in celebration after crossing the finish line in Mattijana, The intercom microphone became saturated with mindless chuckles and his helmet visor filled with vapor from his steamy grins. The rain puttered on his head and dotted his helmet as he went around one more time before entering the paddock. He tapped his brake pedal, quickly unbuckled the seat support and leaped out of the car shaking the water off to hug the team principal, celebrating his victory. His whoops and yays reminiscent of his rallying idols [specifically Petter Solberg, 2003 Championship and Hayden Paddon, 2016 Rally Argentina] could be heard all around the garage, and out of the corner of his eye he could spot more and more drivers rolling in to their respective areas and peering into the V+T garage.

Once the initial gushing had finished, he took his helmet off and wiped the rain, placing it on Chassis Y''s front wing. Terho's brand new polished machine had done wonders for him in an almighty weekend, his best yet, in which he triumphed over every driver in all three days. His win would surely rocket him up the championship standings once again within touching distance of his teammate, and would fill him with confidence. iBen appeared behind him moments after his euphoria began to settle, happy yet tired looking. The Vilitian applauded his compatriot and gave him a warm hug. This time, the apprentice had beaten the master on skill alone, regardless of his unfortunate last lap retirement, whose cause Terho did not know.

A few more drivers passed by Terho to pat him on the back, and as he went to the weigh scales in preparation for the podium celebration, he ran into Gunnar Lindstrom, his old Nordic pal. He hadn't run into him much during the season, but one encounter was enough to dry off and strengthen soggy ties. The two greeted each other like old friends and lauded the others' performances. It was Gunnar's best finish so far and Terho's second win.

Just before the podium celebration, he got a text from the president of Aboveland. He'd just been notified that Edvin had been liberated from his wrongful captivity in a breakaway nation and that he'd await his return to Aboveland eagerly in Porthos. Eyes lit up, Terho ran up to the first spot on the pedestal, shook his champagne bottle, and let it all out, making sure to soak Asao and Victoria thoroughly before drenching himself in the bubbly liquid. This weekend was one he would surely remember for years to come.

[West-East Timor]

Mick Schramm is sitting in his living room in his house in Isnalkorvburg, West-East Timor, as he receives a phone call by Andy Kashnan, his manager.

"Schramm here."

"Hey Mick, it's me, Andy."

"Hey, Andy! What have you got?"

"I'm afraid I've got some bad news for you."

"Oh no! What's it?"

"Seems like the two seats at Scuderia WGPC are going to be taken."

"That's not good. What can I do now?"

"You've got to look out for other teams searching drivers, of course."

"Yeah, I know that. Bot how can I do that?"

"I'm not shure, but I suggest we visit the next Grand Prix. There is no Formula WET1 race next weekend, so we could fly there, maybe talk a bit to the teams, or whatever."

"Yeah, good idea. See you then."

"Allright then, bye. I'll see if can do something, but I'm not shure if I can."

"Yes, do that. Goodbye."

With that, he ends the call. He is sad about the news and kinda nervous about his planned visit of the Grand Prix. He isn't used to have to search for a team, due to his friendship with Nick Newman, West-East Timor's most wealthy man, together with Timo Brandon one of it's two leaders and owner of some teams in domestic racing series. Motorsport has a long tradition in West-East Timor, it even is the country's national sport. The people want a West-East Timorian WGPC driver, so Mick is really under pressure to get a seat...

[Taeshan]

Oliver was fairly happy with the result in the Grand Prix of Mattijana. Just off the podium once again he was having a much better season than anyone else in the world would expect him to have. He was now third overall in the standings, and although he had not finished on the podium once again he was best of the drivers that hadn't won for the most part. He was finishing high in the points in each race, and for not getting any points in the first round of the season he was continuing to rise above expectations.

"Oliver do you think you will be able to win eventually?"

"Of course. We've gotten multiple top 5 finishes and such, but we just aren't as fast overall as the top 2 or three drivers each race. We are off the lead by 15 points, a few wins could get us there. That said we could go to far the wrong way and mess ourselves up. The best thing we have done so far is finish consistently for the most part. I've finished near the top in multiple races, gotten points in all but one, and I think that eventually i will earn my due."

"Are you happy with your team?"

"For the most part. As a driver I am doing a lot of work, but as a team so are they. Over the season my crew has worked me into basically being driver #1 for MSA. Sure Louis is still the "better" driver, but the points don't lie. I'm racing this team to second in the constructor's points and i feel like i can really propel this team. It is no mystery that we are second best of the teams so far, of course V & T is far and away the best, but we are doing damn well to compete each week. No question i want to win as a driver, but i think winning as a team is also important. I would hate to win at the expense of the rest of the team."

"Thank you."

"Thank you."

[Drawkland]

The conditions were decent and the track was looking fine. Will Madison's car was gleaming, and it was with pride that he put on his racing suit and helmet, and sit in his car to race out in Mattijana. Jac-Irlo seemed ready now, and he had said to Will earlier that he was ready to finally finish a race, dammit. Even if he was in literal last place to start.
This is the day, Will thought to himself as he got ready to exit the paddock and line up on the grid, This is the day I'll win it all. Or at least get in front of Tavela. But that'll probably mean winning anyway. Win-win. Of wins. He dorkily chuckled to himself, and then shook his head and refocused.

On the starting grid, Will looked over to his right as the race was about to start. Just to his right and in front was Terho Tavela in the new Chassis Y, or whatever it was called. The black and grey finish gleamed in the sun, and Will set his mind to the back tailfin of that very car. As soon as the flag dropped and the racers went, Will gunned it, and slid into the middle, between Nadakei and Gardner of ENSADRINK and SFeG. Going into turn 1, he managed to wedge in between the two, and force Gardner to pull back for fear of a crash. Just like that, he was in third, and that gleaming black bumper was just in reach.

5 laps later, going into turn 15, Will whipped the corner, slowing down barely at all, and coming around Nadakei who'd braked and gone around the bend like a sane racer. Will, noticing this, decided to capitalize on the situation, and dropped pedal to fly down the straightaway, and close the gap between him and Tavela. The gleaming black bumper was suddenly right in front of his eyes. Will felt his goal. He knew, with only a tenth of the race behind him, that he could surely beat out Tavela by then, and finally win something. Or maybe get a podium spot.

Just then, Will felt a few taps to his skin and car. Then a drop hit his visor head-on. He cursed silently. It had begun to rain.
"Hey, don't let this throw a fork in your plan. Keep going, Madison, you have this." a team member told him through the radio.
"CATCH THAT CRITTER!" Mannar's voice cut through. Will grinned. Another one of Mannar's old mannerisms. He knew that he was right though. He had to take down Tavela, rain or no.

Starting with Lap 7, Tavela began to pick up the pace a little bit. Will could tell and he went on to compensate for it. The two shot past the straights, took the turns tight and fast, even as the conditions got slicker. There were a few times where Will could feel the car loosen, but he stayed levelheaded and concentrated on his goal: to find a weakness in Tavela, maybe a bad turn or consistent issue, that he could exploit to take the lead. While Will made no true progress on Tavela, they did get much ahead of the others behind them, almost at a half-minute ahead of them. Will felt secure, at least.

But the worst came to worse in Lap 9/10. Will had noticed in the past few laps that Tavela had cut back on the pace a bit, perhaps because he felt content with his lead ahead of the people behind Will, or maybe orders came in to not waste so much fuel. But either way, Will decided in the main straightaway after Lap 9 to simply bullet past Tavela and get the lead going into lap 10. However, the track was just the right amount of slick by then, and when Will finally did overtake Tavela, he whooped into his helmet. But not a second later, when he went to turn into Turn 1, he felt the wheels underneath him skid. The Drawkian's heart skipped a beat, maybe 6 or 7, and the car slid at the high speed right into the barrier, almost breaking into the edge of the grandstand. And just like that, Will's race was done. Only 1/6 through the race, he was out for sure. He groaned into his hands as he exited the car and found the damage. The left side of the car was definitely bent, and he'd already lost too much ground. In fact, Jac-Irlo passed by under the yellow as people came out to help with getting the car off the track, and all Will could offer was an apologetic stare from a hung head.

Will sulked out with the team officials as he tracked Jac's progress through the track. Jac-Irlo was doing equally better himself, and in fact, he too was trailing behind a Vilita and Turori Motorsports member, in this case iBen Toralmintii. As it progressed, Will was more excited, seeing Jac-Irlo climb up to 10th place. The Cenian looked like he could make it to a Top 10 spot, and getting some points of his own! But lo and behold, Lap 55 brought Jac-Irlo to the same fate as Will. A skid off the track brought Jac-Irlo to an end this race, and in a similar manner to a few races back, a relative stone's throw away from finally finishing a race. The reaction in the Fornax area was a chorus of groans and facepalms. As Will got up with Mannar to return to the paddocks and garages, he heard some young worker mutter to another that "Fornax needs to just ditch that unreliable piece of junk," and Will couldn't be sure if they were talking about Jac-Irlo or his car. With a chill, he hoped it was the latter. Insult came to injury when only 5 minutes later, Tavela crossed the finish line, a full 35 seconds ahead of Nadakei.

---

"What can you do?" said Mannar.
"I ... I don't know. Race more I guess," Will replied.
"Just don't worry about him, alright? You'll get on the podium, and maybe even take a win away from Tavela, you never know. The key is you keeping cool. All this team crap, the points, the DISC, the media, all that, doesn't matter. The more you think of them, you'll get distracted. All you can do is just focus on who's ahead of you and who's tailing you. Anybody else is completely irrelevant to the race. Even me. Except for when I'm giving you advice. Even then, your own skill is the true determiner of your success. Just quit getting ahead of yourself."
Will listened closely and nodded.
"Now look, next race in San Jose Guayabal, that's what I want you to do. Don't think about anyone but yourself, and the cars around you. Not their drivers. Their cars. You get me?" Mannar looked Will in the eyes.
"Yeah. Yeah, I got it," Will said resolutely.
"Good. Night," Mannar said, and the old man head off to the hotel by himself.
Will watched him go and turned back to where Jac-Irlo was talking to Vic Convarion. He walked to them to talk about how the race was and how the time in Mattijana had been. Hopefully the weekend in San Jose Guayabal would shake up some of the unfortunate traditions that had begun to show up in the Fornax weekends.

[Ethane]

The garage, 8:00pm, Mattijanian time

''That was awesome. Technically, I could have done much better in session 3 of qualifying, as my time did slow right down, but if you ignore that, and just look where I finished, and where I start the race from, I think that can be called a successful run.'' Ethan said, with his eyes gleaming after a successful qualifying run, but slightly disappointed that he failed to capitalise on his strong session 1 and 2 results.

''Totally agree there Ethan, you did a great job in comparison to last week. Just keep it up. We don't want you to get too comfortable in your position on the grid for the race, because in the race, anything can happen. We should be in for a good run tomorrow though.'' Ethan listened intently to his engineer and friends remarks, soaking every word in. He was determined to do well at this Grand Prix of Mattijana, and he wanted every bit of good advice he could get.

''Agreed. I can't wait though. I love this track! See you tomorrow morning guys.'' Ethan exclaimed, obviously enthralled by this race tomorrow.

The engineer looked at Ethan, who was as excited as a child who had just been given a massive block of chocolate. '' Calm down, yeah. Get a good nights rest, you'll need it for tomorrows race.''

Ethan nodded in reply, and left for bed. He could admit to himself that he was tired, and he knew beyond all doubt that if he did not get a good nights sleep, he would fail miserably in the race, and let the whole team down.

---

Ethan's bed, 12:30am, Mattijanian time

Ethan was lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling with his eyes wide open, unable to shut them. He had been like this for the past hour and a half, but he just could not get his eyes to stay shut, and sleep. To him, it was like his eyes were locked open, and he had lost the key somewhere. He had tried turning on some music to help him get to sleep, so slow, mellow, soothing music, which normally would help anyone to fall asleep, but it just wasn't helping him.

He knew that he had to get to sleep, but he was not sure how, as no conventional, non-medical methods were working for him. A packet of sleeping tablets were on the table next to his bed, but he had been trying to quit these, and sleep more naturally. It was no use though, and defeated, he turned on the light, and reached over for the sleeping tablets. He picked up the cardboard box, which held the white tablets in, and read the back, just to check that he could still take them.

Damn it! Ethan thought to himself as he read the back. 12 hours of fucking sleep! What the fuck am I going to do to make myself fall asleep now?!

He felt defeated, and knew that he had let down his team, for he had been unable to get a good nights sleep. He placed the box of sleeping tablets, completely useless in these circumstances, back on the table next to his bed, and lay back down, but it was useless. He was unable to sleep. Defeated, he sighed loudly, grabbing the remote and turned on the television to whatever crap was on tv at this time of night. Turning the volume down, as to not wake anyone nearby in adjacent properties, he lay back down, and rested his eyes while watching the television.

It was not until 4am in the morning that Ethan managed to get to sleep, completely exhausted from the day and night, and realising that he had probably screwed himself over by not taking those sleeping tablets earlier in the night, to help him sleep.

---

The garage, 9:30am, Mattijanian time

Ethan walked into the team garage, looking like a dead zombie, completely unprepared for the day based on his levels of sleep. He had not had a good night, and knew that his inability to sleep during the night may impede his performance in the race, with the possibility of more errors of judgement while driving.

He knew that he had qualified pretty well, and he didn't want to squander his points paying position, but he felt that he was already in a bad state of mind to maintain that position and advance through the field throughout the day.

His engineer welcomed him with the normal grinning, excited welcome, but could tell something was up when Ethan didn't act like his normal, chirpy, excited self, and looked more like Dracula than a driver. ''Hey, Ethan, what's up?'' he questioned, looking at the miserable young rookie driver with sympathy. ''You not feeling well today?''

''I couldn't sleep. I tried, but I just lay on my bed the whole night, panicking about the race. My eyes would not close.'' Ethan was on the verge of tears as he said this, upset as he had likely destroyed any chance of the team picking up points this race. He felt like he had let the team down.

''Don't worry, I'm sure you'll do fine. You look ok. If you want to, go have a lie down over on the sofa over there, and I'll call you when we need to be doing your prep and briefing for the race, ok?'' Ethan looked up at his engineer, thankful for what he had just been offered.

''Thankyou.'' he replied, before dragging himself over to the sofa, where he lay down and fell straight into a deep sleep.

---

The track, 2:00pm, Mattijanian time

Ethan was sat in the car, engines revved, concentrating on the track. He had got some more sleep on the sofa, and while he did still feel a bit tired, he had hoped that the amount of sleep that was gifted to him would be enough to keep him in a points paying position in the race.

''You ready for this?'' he heard his team bark down the radio, excited for what they hoped would be a good day on the track, going on from a good day of qualifying.

''No. Not at all. Never completely ready.'' Ethan exclaimed, his mischievous and chirpy attitude back with him, a good sign for the race.

The first red light flashed on.

Focus. You can do this. This is your time to shine. You are ready for this. Don't let yourself down.

The second red light shone out like a lighthouse, illuminating the whole world.

Are you ready? Yes! Yes you are! You qualified well, now you WILL race well and you WILL get some points.

The third red light lit up the round circular hole that it shone out of, like blood pouring out of a wound.

You can do this. This will be the drive of your lifetime. You can, and you WILL win this race.

He revved down on the engine slightly more. The car was ready, he was ready, and the tyres were ready after their warm-up lap.

The fourth red light shot on, like the flash of an explosion, consuming all nearby.

This is it. One more red light, and then it is go. You have never been more ready for this Ethan. You know how this works. You know what to do.

The fifth and final red light shone out, like a signal, warning of danger ahead.

That's it, as soon as they turn green, it is a go. You ready, you steady... you...

The red lights died, leaving just a dark void in the space where they once were. GO GO GO!!! Ethan pressed down on the accelerator, and his car shot away, along with the rest of the field.

---

Lap 46, Race track

Ethan was starting to lose it. He had managed to hold on so far, but the tiredness was coming back. He had to stay awake. He could feel his eyes drifting away into another world going into turn 4.

He missed the braking zone. Straight off the track. He tried to slam on the brakes in time, but he was too late.

Crash! His car smashed into the barriers, not too fast though. He jumped out, and ran to the side of the race area, while a yellow flag was hoisted up, and stewards rushed to remove the car. He was too tired.

Ethan was out of the race.