World Grand Prix Championship season 17 [RP Thread]

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Vilita and Turori
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Moralistic Democracy

Postby Vilita and Turori » Sun Jun 02, 2019 1:57 pm

Vilita and Turori strong in Aboveland, Eelandii VTGP on Pole

Lintulahti International Circuit, Lintulahti, Aboveland :: For the first time in their brief existence as a top-tier non-works World Grand Prix Championship team, iBen Toralmintii's Race Eelandii! World Grand Prix Motorworks team had switched up their raceday lineup. After testing a pair of rookie drivers during the final mid-season testing session following the most recent Grand Prix event in Filindostan, Gary Cook in consultation with iBen Toralmintii selected Hopilopper's Drake Stevenson to pilot what was the teams lead car in the temporary absence of former World Grand Prix champion Jai Kardaeri. Kardaeri has yet to speak publicly about his absence from the track. The two-time runner-up in the World Grand Prix Drivers Standings had only picked up 11 points in the first eight events of the season and had been out-paced by the relatively sophomore driver Rustom Ibuna in the second Eelandii VTGP car. Like Ibuna, Kardaeri skipped the final mid-season test event though the Starblaydi driver was back home in Jhanna City doing appearances for personal sponsor the Onizuma Corporation.


Now however it seems as if there was more than just a conflicting sponsor appearance that was driving Kardaeri's absence as immediately after being named the teams test driver as a result of a strong showing at the final mid-season test event, Hapilopper's Drake Stevenson was named driver of the #81 Eelandii VTGP machine taking the seat typically occupied by Kardaeri starting with the Abovian Grand Prix at the Lintulahti International Circuit. While Kardaeri is still associated with the team it was not immediately clear when the Starblaydi driver would return to the track or what the reason was for their absence. Some had previously speculated that the tolls of a full season on the World Grand Prix circuit were exhausting the former World Champion who hadn't competed at the top level of motorsport in over four seasons.

Of course, a Race Weekend was much different than a test session and Drake Stevenson would find that out quickly in Aboveland. While the home-track Tropicorp Racing Aelund team topped the standings in the Friday Practice session with Turori's iBen Toralmintii fastest in practice and home-town favorite and series points leader Terho Talvela close behind, Stevenson, the debutant driver from Hapilopper was nearly three seconds off the pace posting just the 23rd best lap of the 28 competitors.

While Stevenson would improve in qualifying perhaps taking advantage of the wet conditions to move up the standings board to 16th place, it was obvious that there was more in the car as after having taking the weekend off to remain home in Filindostan, a re-charged Rustom Ibuna posted pole position in the one-shot qualifying session.

There will be a lot for Vilitans and Turorians to cheer for when the green flag flies in Lintulahti. While the joint Abovian-Vilitan and Turorian outfit Tropicorp Racing Aelund will still be the favorites on the day, they will have to pass a pair of other Vilitan and Turorian entries to get there with Ibuna starting on Pole Position and on the outside pole, once again outperforming their equipment, Vilitan driver R.L. Cruisin still looking to get that rogue race victory to define their season in an under performing race car as the Mirrors Team, picked by many as a constructors title contender in the pre-season, has struggled mightily as emphasized by the placement of the teams second driver, Krytenian Esteban Guilhermez, who will have the entire field in front of them when the lights go out with a qualifying lap nearly 12 seconds off Ibuna's pole time.

While the locals will all be watching Terho Talvela attempt to come through the field from the 10th position, Turori's iBen Toralmintii will certainly have to be licking their chops at the opportunity to pass a trio of lower ranked drivers ahead of them and possibly pick up a victory to propel Toralmintii into the championship picture. If they are to do it, however, the Turorian may have to pass his own car in the form of pole winner Rustom Ibuna to do it.


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Former Citizens of the Nimbus System
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Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Former Citizens of the Nimbus System » Sun Jun 02, 2019 3:53 pm


An Apartment, Torchlight Community, the First City, the Nexus Wardship of Former Citizens of the Nimbus System
28th of May

Ryker Lane stands outside a door. Upon it sits a stylised sun, cast in gleaming brass, its rays drawing one to its centre.

He searches the door, its frame, the surrounding wall, for a bell or knocker. Nothing (Maybe the letterbox – good last-resort, maybe?) jumps out at him.

Ryker frowns. He scrunches up his face to an almost comical degree, before turning to Victoria, standing by and stifling her giggles. Smiling himself, he turns back to the door.

Tentatively, he taps at the sun’s centre.

A doorbell sounds.

He laughs, turning back to Victoria, now sharing her mirth. “Well, I don’t see why that was –”

“Hello?” sounds a woman’s voice, muffled by the door. “Is that who I think it is? Hold on, ‘Toria, just give me a moment!”

Ryker raises an eyebrow. “‘‘Toria’?”

Victoria chuckles, shaking her head. “Mmhm.”

After a moment’s wait, the door does indeed click open. Through it rushes a middle-aged woman, her hair a darker shade than Victoria’s but her eyes undoubtedly the same vibrant green, who in an instant has wrapped her up in a hug. Victoria’s response, evidently formed from years of similar behaviour, is simply to laugh and return the embrace. “Oh, it’s good to see you again! How have you been?”

“I’ve been fine, Mum – really good, act – woah!” She giggles again, leaning away as a silvery blur shoots forth to wrap itself around her legs and reveal itself as a metallic dachshund in the process, motors whirring and tail wagging. “Yes, hello, Eugene. Yes, I do love you. Yes, I do.”

“Well, that would be two of us immensely happy to see you!” Celina Light relaxes her grip, letting her hands fall to her sides. “And who…” Her voice trails off, eyebrows rising as she takes Ryker in and a curious smile coming to rest on her face. “Well, this is unexpected!”

Victoria stands back, carefully disentangling her legs from an excitable robot dog before gesturing to her companion. “This is Ryker, Mum. He’s a really good friend of mine by now, so I thought…” She shrugs, squirming a little.

Ryker intervenes, smiling and giving a small bow. “I’m honoured, Mrs Light.” He looks to Victoria. “And really thankful, too; I’ve been thoroughly looking forward to this.”

Celina’s face brightens. “Well, that’s lovely to hear!” She moves back towards the door; “Come on in, come on in; your father has the food just about ready and Astra’s here too if you want to talk to her.”

Ryker moves a little closer to Victoria’s side. She glances up at him, smiling appreciatively.

Nexus Racing HQ, Crossbay Circuit, Nimbus Bay, the Nexus Wardship of Former Citizens of the Nimbus System
26th of May; Post-Race

The two sit on the edge of Ryker’s bed, though Ryker mostly leans on her, exhausted. Neither speaks; they are content to simply be, in the moment.

Inevitably, of course, it ends. Worry rises in Victoria’s mind. She sighs. “You know, you don’t have to come on Tuesday.” As Ryker reorients his gaze, she continues: “I… You’d be a guest among lots of people who already know each other really well. I don’t want you to come to something that isn’t going to be fun for you if you want to rest, and…” She trails off, then shakes her head, wrapping her hands around her abdomen.

Thoughts run through Ryker’s mind. Then he begins to shake his head. He takes a breath, then speaks, even if his voice is still a little husky. “No, I… I think I’d still like to go with you.” He nods, first slowly then more decisively. “Yeah, I would. Sitting around… I wouldn’t be doing anything – I’d just wallow. A nice meal and new people to talk to sounds… It sounds a lot better.” He smiles, looking directly at her. “Besides, you’re going to be there. That’ll make it fun whatever happens.”

His smile fades, however, when Victoria shrinks further into herself at his words. He opens his mouth and then pauses, before tentatively offering: “Victoria… Do you not want me to come?”

“No! I – I mean, yes, I do, I…” Victoria rests a hand against her head, crushing her eyelids closed. “I’m sorry, I… I’m going to make this about me, and…”

“Victoria.” Ryker carefully rests his hand on her shoulder. She flinches; when she meets his gaze, though, looking up into a face stained by tears, his expression is gentle, genuine, warm. “Say whatever you want to say. I’ll listen, I promise.”

For a moment, she is transfixed. Then she nods, looking away again, and that moment too is lost. “I… I mentioned my older sister to you, a while ago. Astra. She… She’s amazing; I love her, but… I’ve never got rid of the feeling that she’s better than me. She’s always been so good at getting along with people, she knows who she is and where she’s going, she’s right about most things…”

She shakes her head a second time, letting out a soft, pitiful laugh. “It’s stupid. I’m good at what I do and I love being here. I’m in a good place here. But whenever I talk to her, she’s so together that…” Victoria looks down. “And now I’ve invited you to our get-together and I’m terrified…”

Victoria shakes her head again, then leans over to wrap Ryker in a hug. “I’m terrified I’ve invited you to validate myself against her, somehow – ‘I’m friends with this guy everyone knows and you aren’t’. I…” Her words trail off. Instead, she just buries her head in his shoulder.

Ryker struggles with this for a second or two. And then he says: “I… I think you’re wrong.”

Victoria looks up again, as he continues: “I think I know you a little now, Victoria, and…” He looks down into his lap, at his hand. Then he closes it. “I… I might be wrong about this. But I think that you’re so in-tune with yourself that you’re picking up something that isn’t there.” Ryker turns to her. “Do you like spending time with me?”

“I…” Victoria nods, sitting up.

He smiles. “Thanks… And your family?”

She nods again.

“Then… Doesn’t it make sense that you might just be looking forward to it instead?” He smiles. “You’re allowed to want things from other people, Victoria. We like you.”

Victoria looks at him. And she smiles back.

“That… That’s plausible.”

An Apartment, Torchlight Community, the First City, the Nexus Wardship of Former Citizens of the Nimbus System
28th of May

They go in together.

A Skyway, Torchlight Community, the First City, the Nexus Wardship of Former Citizens of the Nimbus System

“That was great.”

The sky glistens with stars, pinpricks of guiding light.

“It was.”

The two walk through the cold air. The First City has many skyways, many with their own shops and gardens, others without and thus each is more sparsely populated than the streets of other cities. Being night, the same is even more true of this one now.

Spontaneously, the two come to a halt, resting on the glass railing at the airborne street’s side. Before them lies the Imagination Nexus, the newfound home of Pure Imagination. Its radiant beam pierces the night, the centrepiece of the First City before them. All that is Nimban, many would argue, is here.

Ryker turns to Victoria. “I do mean it. I wouldn’t be anywhere else this evening… It was fun, being with your family.”

Victoria smirks. “Even when Dad broke his chair after that frog found its way in?”

Ryker puts his hand to his mouth, suppressing a chuckle. “Especially when – I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh, I just can’t – he was so…” Finally, they both burst out laughing, the joyous sound drifting away, brightening the dark.

Finally, Victoria speaks again. “No, I’m glad. I’m really glad… Given I was about to cancel for you…” She sighs. Now, though it’s a happy sigh. She looks up at him. “I’m so glad you’re here with me. You… Whenever I’m with you, Ryker, you do so much to help me move past myself. I’m not just looking in, I’m going out, to help me, to help other people. You… You make me stronger.”

The thoughts fall into the open air. For a few seconds, they are met with silence.

And then they aren’t.

“I…” Ryker stops, turning his thoughts over in his mind for a moment. Then he speaks again. “You do that for me too, Victoria. Without you, I’m not sure I’ve been able to do that… You’ve got this insight that, well, I’d be back where I was last year without. You’ve showed me a way to trusting myself more, being more…” He taps his finger against the metal rail. “More ‘me’. You’ve made me stronger too, in that way.”

Victoria considers that. “I guess… We’re doing that for each other, then.”

She looks down, through the skyways to the street below. Then she looks back up at Ryker.

We’re doing that for each other.

And she feels certainty.

“Ryker,” she intones. “Could I kiss you?”

Even without the silence, he would have heard. Their eyes meet.

“I… Yes.”

Victoria nods slowly. With similar slowness, she turns, raising her hand to brush at Ryker’s cheek. He takes it, holding it there.

And he smiles.

She returns it.

Victoria leans up towards his other cheek. She places her lips there.

The night isn’t quite as cold.
Last edited by Former Citizens of the Nimbus System on Sat Sep 28, 2019 11:12 am, edited 3 times in total.
We are the Nexus Wardship of Former Citizens of the Nimbus System, not just a collection of people; please shorten to the pre-title or use the full name!

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Lord Business: Exactly: a bunch of weird, dorky stuff that ruined my perfectly good stuff!
Emmet: Okay. What I see are people, inspired by each other and by you - people taking what you made and making something new out of it.

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Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Vangaziland » Sun Jun 02, 2019 4:56 pm

Jess Franssen had a long pre-race weekend. With only one night's sleep before raceday, Jessica found herself laying in bed. Qualifying had taken a lot out of her. She needed to rejuvenate and reset tonight. The usual bit of meditation wouldn't be enough. Luckily her trusty laptop was by her side. There was always something distracting to watch, especially on Vannish streaming services.

The defending champion found herself getting more and more into science fiction. It started earlier in the season, watching the Vannish show 'Starship'. An international production was just starting a new season. Tonight's show was more of an established series compared to Starship.

Everybody knew about Star Trek, whether they liked it or hated it. It often portrayed benevolent explorers that sometimes found trouble. There was one Trek Series that would take a different look at the franchise.

Star Trek:Bravo Fleet first aired in 1997. Bravo Fleet shows a different side of Starfleet. We are reminded that the Enterprise represents the ideals of Starfleet. Bravo Fleet shows what a more militarized wing of the Federation looks like.

The show opens with a shot inside of a wide corridor. It appears to be larger than a ship. A nearby panel shows this is Starbase 72. Two officers walk side by side along a wall lined with wide viewports.

"I'm telling you Commodore", said the younger man. He appeared to be in his late thirties. He peered over to a portly silver-haired woman in a flag officer's uniform. Gold backing around a single large golden pip showcased her rank. "We can't let the Alrakis Pact push us around. This ship can get through. We're allowed to plot a course of travel through the Expanse."

The older woman had a confident half smile as she spoke. "Commander Raku", she said in an almost patronizing tone. "Starfleet's mission is not to generate warfare. I don't like the terms of the agreement any more than you do. It was made for a reason. That route would give them too much chance to harass the flight. They'll consider it a settlement."

The rules of the Inconnu agreement were very clear. Commander Raku Mobra looked down at a streamlined PADD in his left hand. He'd been reviewing the agreement to look for a way around it.

The Federation shall:

-Not colonize or seek to colonize additional worlds;
-Not establish bases of operation or other outposts of any kind for any nature;
-Acknowledge that all Federation colonies, bases, embassies, assets, etc. shall be considered suspect and will be subject to monitoring while occupying the Expanse;
-Notify all vessels and assets that they shall be subject to search and inspection by Alrakis Pact authorities;
-Direct all current and future traffic through checkpoints established by the Alrakis Pact at the border of and throughout the Expanse;
-Make available copies of all sensor data and intelligence collected throughout the Expanse both prior to and during the execution of this Agreement; and
-Provide medical and disaster relief to any colony or base only at the approval of the Alrakis Pact.

The Alrakis Pact powers shall:

Establish checkpoints at the border of and throughout the Expanse;
Collect tariffs upon all imports and exports sponsored by the Federation;
Treat any Federation asset as suspect should that asset be believed to be performing an act against the validity and security of the Pact;
Establish Agreements on its own with other Powers without the involvement or influence of the Federation;
Confront and/or Expel any Federation asset deemed to be in violation of this Agreement; and
Protect its interests throughout the Expanse.

The Bajoran commander shut his PADD off and looked away in disgust. He would have never signed such an agreement. He lamented being assigned to the Beta Quadrant at the time.

Both officer stopped and turned to face each other. "Give me 48 hours to look into the region. As a matter of fact, I have an officer in contact with the Ferengi mining consortium at Arcybite. They're facing consistent piracy from Ravagers that cross the border. Let us confront them there."

"Raku, I..", the Commodore started to talk. The Bajoran commander didn't like her tone and moved to interrupt.

"Look at her, Commodore. Look outside. We have to put this ship to good use." The view panned to a side view where a ship could be seen. It was unlike anything typically seen in a Star Trek series. The vessel was massive, taller vertically than a Galaxy class is long.

"The Federation already pushed things by sending the Hiryu into this sector", said the Commodore. "She's going to raise hell."

Commander Raku Mobra flashed a devious smile, staring the flag officer deep into her eyes. "That's why Starfleet gave ME this command", said the Bajoran as his ridged nose wrinkled a little more.

Almost as if on queue, two Gryphon fighters sprinted past the viewport at maximum impulse. The small ships passed in a flash of red, white and blue light. They rolled and banked away from the station on orbit.

"They sure seem anxious to get going", the Commodore said in seeming response to the fly by.

"We all are", said the Commander.

The opening credits started to begin. It showed the huge ship slowly rumbling away from Starbase 72. The large ship six Warp engines. Two warp cores took their turn powering three nacelles apiece. It carried 144 fighters. 33 shuttlesbays gave the Hiryu room to spare. The Titan class was a massive undertaking. It would need a special crew. Life here would be a unique look at Federation life.

Word had gotten out that several admirals were looking to establish an office on the Hiryu. Having an Admiral around would have a major impact on ship life. Fleeters could expect a rigid life, full of tough drills and rewarding downtime.

Imagines of the ship speeding past the credits continued the opening scene. FInally the Hiryu made a close pass of the camera. Six titanic engines glowed in red and blue light, the engine's making a deeper noise until the ship disappeared by jumping to Warp 7.
Last edited by Vangaziland on Sun Jun 02, 2019 5:02 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Chargé d'Affaires
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Postby WGPC » Sun Jun 02, 2019 8:10 pm

for the Abovian Grand Prix at Lintulahti International Circuit (Layout C)

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Founded: May 23, 2015

Postby WGPC » Sun Jun 02, 2019 8:19 pm

Week 13: Race
Conditions:      	Dry	
Laps: 68
Nation: ABL
Circuit: Lintulahti International Circuit (Layout C)
Event: Abovian Grand Prix
Safety Car Deployed on Laps: 49
Cars on Grid: 28

Fastest Lap Bonus Point: 7 TRI	83.694

Start          After 17 Laps               After 34 Laps               After 51 Laps			
1 IBU 1 TII +0 1 DGR +0 1 LAN +0
2 CRU 2 IBU +14.45 2 TII +9.107 2 TBS +15.95
3 DGR 3 DGR +24.784 3 TRI +19.586 3 BJA +18.356
4 TII 4 LAN +25.298 4 IBU +20.13 4 DIM +19.836
5 LAN 5 DIM +34.392 5 LAN +29.585 5 DGR +21.585
6 JMD 6 NVX +38.839 6 NVX +30.675 6 JCS +24.852
7 SCH 7 TBS +47.526 7 DIM +44.305 7 NVX +24.906
8 FRS 8 TAL +51.688 8 JMD +44.53 8 SCH +25.578
9 TBS 9 SCH +52.132 9 JCS +48.655 9 DHL +26.006
10 TAL 10 JCS +53.267 10 TAL +52.194 10 TLS +26.592
11 DHL 11 DHL +55.665 11 DHL +53.314 11 TAL +26.65
12 ORK 12 JMD +56.331 12 BJA +58.964 12 TII +30.239
13 JCS 13 TLS +58.584 13 TBS +68.878 13 FRS +35.534
14 RHJ 14 BLK +61.023 14 TLS +71.172 14 ORK +38.814
15 BLK 15 STE +61.579 15 SCH +74.284 15 JMD +42.558
16 STE 16 TRI +61.754 16 RHJ +Laps: 1 16 IBU +50.392
17 OKU 17 CRU +64.38 17 BLK +Laps: 1 17 OKU +Laps: 1
18 DIM 18 FRS +65.257 18 FRS +Laps: 1 18 STE +Laps: 1
19 CAR 19 BJA +70.395 19 ORK +Laps: 1 19 RHJ +Laps: 1
20 NVX 20 CAR +74.776 20 CAS +Laps: 1 20 BLK +Laps: 1
21 KRA 21 ORK +Laps: 1 21 OKU +Laps: 1 21 CAS +Laps: 1
22 TLS 22 SZR +Laps: 1 22 STE +Laps: 1 22 KRA +Laps: 1
23 KRU 23 CAS +Laps: 1 23 SZR +Laps: 1 23 SZR +Laps: 1
24 BJA 24 OKU +Laps: 1 24 KRA +Laps: 1 24 KRU +Laps: 2
25 SZR 25 KRU +Laps: 1 25 KRU +Laps: 1 25 CAR +Laps: 2
26 TRI 26 GUI +Laps: 1 26 GUI +Laps: 2 26 GUI +Laps: 2
27 CAS 27 RHJ +Laps: 1 27 CAR +Laps: 2
28 GUI 28 KRA +Laps: 1

POS DRV Name                     Team	Time	Pts
1 94 LAN Ryker Lane Nexus Racing 01:43:20.309 25
2 42 DIM Alex Dimitrianov Badai Angin 00:00:17.571 18
3 56 TAL Terho Talvela TRÆ 00:00:30.254 14
4 20 SCH Mick Schramm Omni 00:00:37.565 10
5 14 BJA Sigur Bjarnason MRT 00:00:42.566 8
6 1 FRS Jessica Franssen VMR 00:00:49.564 6
7 65 DGR Hunter Digri McPahan 00:00:50.709 4
8 23 JCS Jelena Colac-Strek McPahan 00:00:51.421 3
9 77 TII iBen Toralmintii TRÆ 00:00:54.614 2
10 48 TBS Tyra Tabuso Fireline 00:00:58.062 1
11 63 DHL Dalia Dahl SinVal 00:01:00.775
12 49 TLS Benjamin Talison Fireline 00:01:03.522
13 64 ORK Carsten O'Rourke Badai Angin 00:01:06.922
14 15 NVX Tabita Novax Camden 00:01:31.800
15 41 JMD Jean Mercer-Daly Nexus Racing Laps Down: 1
16 47 OKU Erica Okumura Polaris Laps Down: 1
17 81 STE Drake Stevenson Eelandii VTGP Laps Down: 1
18 37 RHJ Ryan Harris-Jones Omni Laps Down: 1
19 18 BLK Taylor Blake Obey Laps Down: 1
20 22 KRA Jasmin Kranjska SinVal Laps Down: 2
21 3 CAS Darius Castellammare Camden Laps Down: 2
22 27 KRU Gregori Krupin MRT Laps Down: 2
23 52 SZR Sayono Souzare Polaris Laps Down: 2
24 17 CAR Evdaden Carnétier Obey Laps Down: 2
25 29 GUI Esteban Guilhermez Mirrors Laps Down: 2
DNF 71 IBU Rustom Ibuna Eelandii VTGP Ret. lap 53
DNF 7 TRI Vijay Tripathi VMR Ret. lap 48
DNF 51 CRU RL Cruisin Mirrors Ret. lap 19

Pos # DRV Name                      Team                     Pts
1 56 TAL Terho Talvela TRÆ 108
2 42 DIM Alex Dimitrianov Badai Angin 72
3 1 FRS Jessica Franssen VMR 43
4 14 BJA Sigur Bjarnason MRT 41
4 77 TII iBen Toralmintii TRÆ 41
6 27 KRU Gregori Krupin MRT 37
7 7 TRI Vijay Tripathi VMR 34
8 94 LAN Ryker Lane Nexus Racing 33
8 41 JMD Jean Mercer-Daly Nexus Racing 33
10 71 IBU Rustom Ibuna Eelandii VTGP 32
10 22 KRA Jasmin Kranjska SinVal 32
12 23 JCS Jelena Colac-Strek McPahan 30
13 64 ORK Carsten O'Rourke Badai Angin 27
14 49 TLS Benjamin Talison Fireline 26
15 15 NVX Tabita Novax Camden 24
16 65 DGR Hunter Digri McPahan 22
17 48 TBS Tyra Tabuso Fireline 20
18 37 RHJ Ryan Harris-Jones Omni 19
19 52 SZR Sayono Souzare Polaris 17
20 47 OKU Erica Okumura Polaris 12
21 20 SCH Mick Schramm Omni 11
21 51 CRU RL Cruisin Mirrors 11
23 33 KRD Jai Kardaeri 10
24 17 CAR Evdaden Carnétier Obey 1

Pos NAT Team                       Pts
1 ABL TRÆ 149
2 FID Badai Angin 99
3 MTJ MRT 78
4 VNG VMR 77
5 NIM Nexus Racing 66
6 AUD McPahan 52
7 ETH Fireline 46
8 VLT Eelandii VTGP 42
9 EFL SinVal 32
10 WET Omni 30
11 NEK Polaris 29
12 LIS Camden 24
13 STB Mirrors 11
15 ESM Obey 1

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Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Hapilopper » Mon Jun 03, 2019 8:54 pm

By Doug Goodman
Hapilopper Television Network

LINTULAHTI, ABOVELAND - Very quickly, Drake Stevenson learned just how tough the World Grand Prix Championship really is. Never in contention at all for the course of the race, Drake ended the day 17th, a lap behind winner Ryker Lane of Nexus Racing.

After the race ended, Drake climbed out of his car and sat at a bench nearby, a tear running down his eye. There had been some feeling that he had blown his chance at helping the Eelandii VTGP effort in their run for the Constructor's Standings.

However, Drake said his conservative approach was out of a desire to bring the car home in one piece.

"There was more in the car," Drake said sadly. "A lot more in it, but I didn't want to ruin my chances at another ride. I was scared I'd pitch the car into the scenery and they'd tell me to run along, and I'd go home with my tail between my legs. This is a good race car. Rustom ran up front all day, but he's used to the machinery. He knows what to do with it. On the other hand, I think I've had one race weekend and one test session under my belt. I think if I had more time in this car, I could produce more than I've been able to do."

It was confirmed after the Grand Prix that Drake would travel back to Vilita and Turori to try to get more acquainted with the Eelandii VTGP machinery before the next Grand Prix in Vangaziland. Stevenson was criticized by members of the motorsport press for returning to Hapilopper after a deal had been signed to drive for Eelandii VTGP, rather than traveling to Vilita and Turori to learn more about the machinery he was competing in, and to become acquainted with the crew he would be working with.

"I got arrogant, I guess," Drake said. "I believed that if you were good enough to make a Grand Prix, you were good enough to win a Grand Prix. The fact is, I need to go to Vilita and Turori and to the Eelandii shop more. I need to run on the simulators more to learn the circuits. I need to communicate with the crew more. If I'm going to do this, I'm going to do it right, or I'm not going to do it at all."

Stevenson qualified 16th for the Grand Prix and moved his way to 15th at one point before, on lap 31, Stevenson missed his braking point going into the first turn. In an effort to make the turn, he spun, got stuck in a sand trap and lost considerable time. Stevenson's race day crew were visibly upset at the spin. A radio frequency aired on the world feed of the race demonstrated the frustration.

"Come on man, we can't have you screwing up like this," Stevenson's race day strategist, Tyler Oakley, shouted at his driver. "You're a Grand Prix driver, not some slapdick joke. Start acting like one."

After the Grand Prix ended, Oakley voiced his frustrations with not entirely knowing his new driver.

"Let's face facts," Oakley said. "I've only seen him a few times. If I'm going to know what he wants and doesn't want, I'm going to need to see him around more. I'm glad, at least, he's said he'll be coming back with us and spending more time in the shop. I know he's a good driver. I've seen his stuff. He's got some of the best car control I've ever seen, but he needs to get acquainted with the equipment, not just think he can go home and think he can make this work over a weekend. Grand Prix racing is not a weekend-only job."
Hapilopper: The home of TEAM BLUE and the winner of the 70th Baptism of Fire!
NSSCRA drivers: #8 - Frank Bronson | #73 - Taylor Henderson | #81 - Drake Stevenson
Preston Autos Grand Prix Racing: #50 - Rudy Edwards (HAP) | #8 - William Archer (Abanhfleft)
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Postby Sorlovia » Thu Jun 06, 2019 6:45 pm

Gregori’s Hotel Room

The season was proving to be challenging and unforgiving. He’d lost his second place standing in the Driver Championship to Alex Dimitrianov and had fallen back to sixth place. In addition he’d finished in twenty second place at the Lintulahti International Circuit much to his chagrin. It seemed that he’d fallen into another bad streak compounded by the fact that he never seemed to do well in races that took place in Aboveland. If he’d been a superstitious man he might have believed Aboveland to be a cursed race setting. He hadn’t had much luck in the Abovian races in WGPC16 either and it seemed that the trend had continued into WGPC17. Aboveland was always a difficult setting for a Sorlovian no matter what industry they were in. The weight of political, cultural and ideological disagreements hung over them like a curse.

Gregori sat in his hotel room brooding over the race results. Why was Lintulahti such an unforgiving and harsh setting? What was it that seemed to hold him back on that particular circuit? He wasn’t a superstitious man by any stretch of the imagination so he refused to believe in the idea of curses. He instead considered his performance and preparedness. Surely there was a more reasonable for the trend of bad results. He’d looked over the track layout six times already and had spent the last three hours considering what he might have done wrong. Twenty second place was not a good result and it wouldn’t do him any good in his standings for WGPC17. What was it about the track that saw him struggle? The track layout suited his driving style. The bends likewise favoured his technique. So it had to be something else.

“I don’t get it,” he said softly to himself “but I swear I’m going to best you Lintulahti.”

He swore softly in Russian and tossed his takeaway coffee cup at the bin in frustration. He wasn’t the type to give in to fits of anger but everyone needs to let off steam sometimes. It was far better than keeping it bottled up inside until it exploded. His father had taught him that if you needed to unload you did it in private. Outbursts of anger and shows of rage were unbecoming of a man. When you felt those things you went off by yourself to deal with them properly. Some chose to meditate. Some went to a shooting range and still others went out into the wilderness to scream at the mountains as a way of release. Gregori chose to put quiet instrumental music on and pray about the things he was feeling. In public he was charismatic, charming and friendly. But in private he was a man who had to deal with all the same frustrations and disappointments as anyone else.

The only thing he could do was accept the result and look for ways he could do better. More intense training regimes and longer practice sessions. He could look into the race analysis and statistics data readouts in more detail. There would be a way that he could somehow simulate the conditions of the Lintulahti International Circuit to learn how he could beat it. He could study the track itself until he knew every single turn, straight and feature in intimate detail. That bad result wasn’t the end of his season. It was simply a bump on the road. He would learn and in time he would beat the hurdle that was Lintulahti. To defeat one’s enemy one had to know one’s enemy. At the very least the track presented a valuable opportunity to test his skills and challenged in ways that would only help in the long run. But he couldn’t help feeling frustrated at the fact that he never did well on Lintulahti. What was it about that damn track? It wasn’t as if his car had been tampered with or that the Abovians had rigged it against him. It was just a primary challenge that he needed to beat. And he would.

He looked up from his laptop and kicked himself. He was supposed to be meeting Elena for dinner in an hour and he hadn’t even started to get ready. He couldn’t exactly go to have a flash dinner with her dressed in his workout outfit with messy hair now could he? Not a chance. He needed to look his best for Elena and that meant getting off his rear to make himself ready. There would be plenty of time to finish looking over the statistics and data. Elena was his fiancé and as such needed to be shown the greatest of love.

“Damn it Gregori,” he whispered under his breath “you let yourself lose track of time again!”

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Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Hapilopper » Fri Jun 07, 2019 1:02 pm

Turn 21, Drosopol Circuit, Drosopol, Esportivan Vangaziland
6:53 AM local time, Friday morning

Drake Stevenson looked down at his heavily-used legal pad, looked up at the absurdly long pit straight, and sat down on the track surface to contemplate his last several weeks. A dream of becoming a Grand Prix driver had turned nightmarish after an awful debut Grand Prix in Aboveland. He never contended for even a single point, much less a podium, never mind a race victory. Some had felt he simply hadn't tried hard enough. Others figured he, well, sucked. A third camp thought it was absurd that a team like Eelandii VTGP would consider taking someone straight from stock cars into the wildly different WGPC cars, especially when that driver had literally no experience in a single-seater. A fourth camp, and probably the most informed camp, felt Drake had gotten arrogant and should have rented one of those extended-stay hotel rooms by the Eelandii VTGP shop, so he could get more used to the team, get to know the crew he was working with, and possibly become more familiar with the Grand Prix landscape.

Drake had joined that fourth camp by the time he crossed the finish line in Aboveland, and was booking one of those extended-stay rooms by the time Gary Cook, team principal of Eelandii VTGP motioned for him to have a "come-to-Jesus" meeting after the Grand Prix had concluded. To say Cook had been less than pleased at Stevenson's performance was like saying the guy behind the Fat Chuck's Tasty Fried Chicken commercials was a little obnoxious. He looked down at his legal pad and then straight towards the first turn, nearly a mile away, and remembered what Cook had said to him.

"We didn't hire you to run in the back of the pack. You've got three chances, and you've just blown the first shot," Cook told him. "You've got two left. Don't make us regret hiring you. You're better than this. You know that. I know that."

As soon as the Abovian Grand Prix came to an end, Drake had changed his travel plans. He was no longer going back to Hapilopper City with Marty Lewis and the representatives from Preston Autos. Instead, he had changed his plans to fly with the crew back to Vilita and Turori. Sitting next to him on the plane back was his race-day strategist, Tyler Oakley. That hadn't been planned, but that sort of happy accident is the kind of thing that sometimes turn 17th place drivers into regular points scorers.

Oakley, who had spent 18-hour days with the Eelandii VTGP crew getting the car ready for the start of the season, was understandably a little exasperated when Drake had returned home to Hapilopper instead of going to Vilita and Turori to learn the car and get accustomed with a Grand Prix environment. He couldn't complain now, though, Drake had learned this lesson himself and it was an 11-hour flight back.

Plus, the first thing Drake told Tyler was "Tell me everything. I mean, everything."

So, for the first five or so hours, Tyler Oakley gave his new driver a crash course on everything from pit strategies, to the way the car handles its Tropicorp tires, to the engine that powered the car, to even the way the vending machines work in the Eelandii shops. For what it's worth, the term "jiggle the handle" was used liberally as Oakley discussed the shop's vending machines. Oakley, who initially had been cold to his new driver, had gradually warmed to Drake as he spoke for hours and hours, and noticed Drake paying the kind of attention that a foreign spy would pay attention to some kind of troop movement. He looked down on several occasions and saw yet another one of those damned legal pads being worn out by Drake taking page after page of notes.

"You're taking all this in, aren't you?" Oakley said. It wasn't a question. It was an observation. "Damn, son. You really do want to make this work. I'm impressed."

It's possible Drake even wrote that down too. He wrote everything else down.

As he stood up on the final corner, Drake thought about the last two weeks in Vilita and Turori. Such a beautiful place, he thought. He had thought about getting a permanent home in the nation. The area was picturesque. The food was magnificent. The people were some of the nicest he had ever met. Just how majestic the area had been had taken a sting out of the poor run in Aboveland. From 7 in the morning to 5 in the evening, Drake spent his time in the Eelandii shop, doing whatever he could to learn more about the cars and the track. His career depended on it.

Drake walked down the frontstraight in Drosopol, and to his surprise, his phone rang. He looked at the phone, expecting it to be Marty, who was working with Team Blue’s NSSCRA effort. Instead, the caller ID displayed an unfamiliar phone number, complete with a country code he had never seen before. He probably shouldn’t have hit “accept” on his phone. But, on some goofball impulse, he did anyway.

“Hello?” Drake said into the phone with a hint of trepidation. It was probably some robodialer imploring him to vote for Carl Stewart for the Hapiloppian House of Delegates.


It was not a robodialer. It was Gabriela Petrescu, his high school girlfriend, who he had run into just before getting on the plane for Aboveland. Drake was suddenly at a loss for words.

“Listen, I’ve moved back to my home country,” Gabriela said. “You know the one. But, the more I thought about us meeting in the airport, the more I thought about how much I missed you. I wish we had become something.”

“Yeah,” Drake said, rather sadly.

“I turned on a TV a couple of weeks ago and saw some brown and white car spun out, and saw your name on the TV graphic,” she said. “I thought I was seeing things. Then I saw your picture in a newspaper the next day. Did you do it? Did you really do it?”

“Depends on what you mean by ‘do it,’” Drake said. “I drive for a team called iBen Toralmintii's Race Eelandii! Vilita and Turori World Grand Prix Motorworks these days. You familiar with them?”

“Kind of.”

“They compete in the World Grand Prix Championship,” Drake said. “They’re – er, I mean, we’re pretty good. We’ve got a good car and great backers.”

“OH, DRAKE, I KNEW YOU COULD DO IT!” Gabriela screamed in joy over the phone. “I always knew you could become a Grand Prix driver. Win one for me, won’t you?”

“I’ll do what I can. I love you,” Drake said over the phone.

After a small delay, Gabriela responded. “I love you too.”

For the first time in a couple of weeks, it seemed, Drake Stevenson had a smile on his face. He walked back to the paddock, with a newfound determination he honestly hadn’t really had since the midseason test in Dritten Asopie. It was time to kick some ass, and he was going to do so in Esportivan Vangaziland. He had no other choice, no other alternative.
Hapilopper: The home of TEAM BLUE and the winner of the 70th Baptism of Fire!
NSSCRA drivers: #8 - Frank Bronson | #73 - Taylor Henderson | #81 - Drake Stevenson
Preston Autos Grand Prix Racing: #50 - Rudy Edwards (HAP) | #8 - William Archer (Abanhfleft)
Made with pride in Atlantian Oceania.

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Left-Leaning College State

Postby Aboveland » Fri Jun 07, 2019 3:10 pm

Lintulahti International Circuit

Terho and Ryker make their way down the hill toward turn three, side by side, slowing down at the late apex of the corner. Terho's got a warm latte in one hand; Ryker has opted for a tea. Behind them stand the rest of the drivers, following the two.

"You know," Terho begins, finally releasing the comment he'd been waiting to make for so long, now that the two drivers are alone. "I've been meaning to tell you something, something kinda cool, I guess."

Ryker, sympathetically as ever, looks over at the Abovian.

"I waited until now because, well, I thought maybe we'd leave the others a bit out of the loop if I were to discuss it with them too."

Terho, very slightly, clenches his teeth as they walk on, entering the bridge esses. Get to the fucking poooooint, screeches his inner voice.

“Sorry, I do that a lot,” Terho says, rather awkwardly replying to his conscience out loud, as if Ryker had heard his thoughts. “Anyway… remember that talk we had, around the beginning of the year, about… coalescence? The concept, I mean. You know…”--he says rhetorically, before backtracking--”well, you do know, that I’ve always admired your team. Your people. And I don’t just say this while you’re visiting my own country, seeing my own team, and meeting my own people. It’s really, really amazing to me what you all have there. It’s such a wonderfully well oiled machine, from the outside at least. There’s this air of humility and pride within your team, as I see it--and as Janne has told me, to be fair--that probably perfectly sums up what you guys are.” He pauses for a moment. “Everything you Nimbans do, from your incredible innovations I could never have imagined to your steel tough resilience in the face of whatever the world throws at you… It’s just exemplary.”

The pair enter the uphill straight, exiting the bridge. Terho takes the opportunity to clear his throat, and basks in the landscape while he pauses before continuing. Ryker waits patiently and attentively.

“But, I brought this up because I’ve been feeling really, really nice lately, and the first thought that comes to mind when I think of what is making me feel so nice is you.”

Terho’s next pause is clumsier than the ones before, yet he ops to not make note of his odd choice of words.

“When I won in Filindostan, I felt truly fulfilled. And it’s not just because I could take that win. Not at all, no. It’s because I remembered that talk we had at the beginning of the year. Those words I said, so sincerely, and with such admiration for something that, to me, seemed entirely foreign and unreachable.”

He pauses yet again, having still not gotten to the point, to take a sip of his coffee and carefully think of what he’s about to say. The exact words he’d said so many months back return for just an instant. "A team so close knit and talented, so devoted not only to their common good but to the good and future of the sport, innovating non-stop, race to race... It's something I'd love to be a part of someday."

“But that day… that day, I really felt something had clicked. Suddenly, my team--our team, our Abovian team, had become what I’d always wanted: we’d formed our crucial nexus, I guess. We coalesced.” Terho chuckles at his own (fairly lazy) play on words. “It sounds cheesy, perhaps, but for that short instant I felt I’d really won. Reaching that kind of synergy within the team was something I truly never imagined would happen.” He looks away from Ryker, now facing the open road ahead. “And maybe, who knows, it could have been a one-off. Or maybe, we really haven’t yet reached our full potential. But for that little instant, I felt like I had it all.”

A knot begins to form in Terho’s throat, but he’s quick to intervene. He looks back at Ryker, to check for signs of boredom. “You, Ryker,” he begins, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You really have it all. I swear… what I felt in that moment is unlike anything else.”

One final pause. What’s your point? asks his inner voice, sharply.

“I don’t know,” Terho silently replies again. “I just wanted you to know that, I guess. Nexus Racing might just well be the best team the series has ever seen. You guys are one-hundred percent the benchmarks for everyone else. I promise. And just scraping that benchmark, for me, was surreal.”

He takes his hand away from Ryker’s shoulder and finishes off his coffee. The two are just about to enter turn 7A.

Lintulahti International Circuit

Terho and Ryker make their way down the hill toward turn three, separated by thirty seconds, slowing down at the late apex of the corner. Terho's eyes are dry and irritated, his cornea clouding, his eyelids twitching, the sweat rolling down his eyebrows catching itself on the edges of his balaclava. Ahead of Terho, a comfortable Alex Dimitrianov, over fifteen seconds to the good of him. Behind them, the rest of the drivers exert their machines one final lap around the racetrack. Terho’s final stint extravaganza has been excellent, the former champion flexing his overtaking muscles for the third time in the season, chewing up seven places in the final seventeen laps, but in the process he’s lost any notion of time and space.

As he crosses the finish line, not knowing his position, but fully aware he’s finally done with the gruelling race he’d earlier thought to be a cakewalk, his radio crackles on, building his budding anticipation as the cheers from the paddock fill the background before Edvin can muster up his words of congratulations.

“That’s a podium, Terho, P3! Magnificent race, very well done. TRÆ is proud, buddy, TRÆ is proud!”

Terho replies to the best of his ability, with a deflated ‘woo’, mostly because of fatigue, but with an undertone of regret that his two year local win streak had been broken. During his cooldown lap, he takes a couple final vigorous sips of his drink, sighs heavily, and manages to break back into the radio across the final few corners. “Who won?” he asks with the last of his breath.

Edvin, back at the paddock, smiles before replying. He looks down the pit lane to his left, facing the entrance, the space gray Chase Cutter of the WGPC’s winless champion poking its nose into the pit road. The Abovian opens his mouth, pressing the TALK button on the radio console and uttering an abrupt “ahk”, but decides to let Terho find out for himself. Edvin, always the quick thinker, shuts off the transmitter to keep Terho quiet.

Terho, guiding Unnamed into the third place spot of the finisher’s grid, spots the Badai Angin machine of Dimitrianov to the left of a Chase Cutter. In an instant, his sulken frown erupts into a gleaming smile; quick to his emotions as always, a tiny lump forms in his throat. He pulls his helmet off just in time to see Ryker celebrate before his ecstatic team. Terho, eager to give his congratulations, climbs as fast as he can out of his car and runs towards the Nimban, now able to divert his attention elsewhere from his team. Terho, overcome with emotion, his glassy eyes mimicking Ryker's own, hugs him tightly, jolting with laughter and patting him on the back.

"Job well done, my friend, job well done!" he exclaims.

As Terho climbs onto the podium, following Ryker up to settle on the bronze step, he looks up at the matte gray clad hero, topping the podium for his first time ever. Oddly fitting for him to win here at home thinks Terho, smiling up at Ryker as the Nimban anthem resonates across the valley. If anyone had to break his home win streak, Terho had hoped it'd be Ryker himself.

For the first time, the Abovian anthem fails to boom across Lintulahti on Sunday afternoon, and that's okay, the home fans still raving over their local star.

Because for the first time, Ryker Lane wins a race. For the first time, at least according to Terho, he has it all.

And that alone makes him so, so happy.

Home to Terho Talvela, three-time WGPC World Champion

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Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Former Citizens of the Nimbus System » Fri Jun 07, 2019 3:32 pm


Iskajärvi International Airport, Iskajärvi, Nord Maakunta, Aboveland
29th of May

Ryker peers down the corridor; the doors at their end don’t exactly make identifying people in the bustling crowd beyond any easier. “No sign…” He looks over his shoulder, his grin passing by Jean with a nod of thanks.

He breathes in the air, glancing wistfully out of the window at the idling planes, remembering the last time he was here – the second day of August the previous year, where he saw Terho and, for the first time, Janne. It feels different this time. More… Hmm. I don’t know.

And then he recalls the conversation he had yesterday evening. A warmth grows within him.

…huh. I think I get the idea of being excited about not knowing something now. He grins to himself. Not for the same reasons as you or Gertrude, maybe, but even so.

They approach the doors now, the trundle and occasional clack clack of luggage marking their passage. Finally, Ryker catches sight of Terho, energetic figure darting, halting and darting once more through the crowd. He grins again. Ah, we’re quite the trio now, aren’t we, Jean, Terho and I? A pity that Maria’s not still with us, or she’d probably be part of that group too… He frowns at that thought, meaning to berate himself – and then raises his eyebrows, first in shock, then in happiness and fulfilment.

Beyond that wish that she still be with them? There wasn’t a trace of longing.

A thrill runs through him, that primal sign of attunement for a brief moment to total rightness, before Terho is upon them, apologising profusely for there being nothing to signify his presence.

And Ryker, standing shoulder to shoulder with Jean, laughs. “You know, we’d admonish you – but I think we’d be hypocrites.”

In a wave of flaxen hair, Victoria Light sidesteps out from behind them. “Hi! Mind if I tag along?”

Toys '4' All Assembly & Packaging Facility, Lopinka, Vilita
27th of May

  • Moulds are significant cost, currently avoided with replacement – won’t work for UHSGV – perhaps use Imagination cutting?
  • Electronics are potentially problematic for T4A mark-up – obstacle for light-up feature – consider light piping thru intakes or glow-in-the-dark material

Auburn Steel looks up from her tablet, subconsciously twirling her stylus between her fingers as she focusses the part of her brain that was dedicated there back to the tour guide, who smiles, explaining: “The design team, after all, understands that children are more than willing to simulate engine noise for themselves. Why should we deny them that? Now, if you’ll follow me…”

“Well, that’s true enough even if it is inapplicable to us,” Auburn murmurs to her colleague in a melodious voice as the two begin to walk again. She inclines her head towards Karl Rain’s stoic visage. “Have you seen anything off-putting?”

“Nothing has been evidently malicious as of yet,” Nexus Racing’s chief communicator replies, his eyes still combing the great room, filled with the sound whirring machinery. “That is perhaps to be expected given this factory’s largely automated nature. I will be scrutinising their environmental record on my return, of course…”

Auburn nods. “Good.” She leans in closer to him, showing him her notes. “If I may, I no longer think that a light-up function is the most convincing pitch. Do you have thoughts as to either of these options?”

Karl Rain glances down. After a characteristic pause, he replies: “Light piping would be a low-cost solution, though one that may create a less prominent glow than ideal. Glow-in-the-dark materials, on the other hand…” He turns to look Auburn in the eye. “Given the stimulating effects of blue light on the brain, I would not want us to be responsible for children’s sleepless nights.”

Auburn purses her lips, considering this. “I doubt that that would be a significant issue… Discerning parents would be more than capable of preventing it and I doubt the glow would be anything nearly as powerful as any electronic device that a child would also have access to if they were not. We would be doing no net harm.”

Karl frowns. “I suspect that that would not stem criticism… Though I also suspect that there would be little such criticism to begin with.” He nods sagely. “Perhaps. Indeed, we might suggest incorporating both.”

Auburn’s eyes light up. “Hmm.”


“Beyond the fiscal discussions, then, our initial proposal is as such.” Auburn glances about the conference room, flashing her trademark warm, bright smile across it to the arrayed personnel of Toys ‘4’ All. Her sandwiches are untouched; eating, after all, can come later. This demands her attention now.

“There are two things that we do not want to compromise on. The first is our car’s shape, which is considerably distinctive from other WGPC entries to the point that a mould standard for others would appear inauthentic. I appreciate that this will raise the cost of production significantly; we feel that this is a necessary sacrifice and would be prepared to waive a portion of our licensing fees until the cost is covered.”

“The other is an Imagination glow effect of some kind.” Auburn’s smile turns a touch apologetic. “We are no experts, unlike yourselves, but we do have a few ideas; the most promising is to use perforated silver and sky blue wraps to colour across the car with the body itself made from blue glow-in-the-dark resin or acrylic and light pipes extended from the model’s intakes. This would hopefully create the desired effect both in dark and lit conditions.”

She scans the room again, Karl Rain nodding contentedly in the corner of her eye, and offers another assuring expression. “As I say, of course, you are the experts on this; we would be grateful to understand your opinions and positions.”

A café, Iskajärvi, Nord Maakunta, Aboveland
29th of May

“Honestly, it was perfectly timed. Establishing the portal to the circuit’s garage happens on Thursday but you’re all heading to Lintula–” she stumbles over the word, then shakes her head with a self-deprecating smirk and roll of the eyes – “Lintulahti tomorrow anyway, so… Found a spare seat on the plane and, well, here I am.”

After a playful shrug to Edvin and Terho, Victoria rests back in her chair; she looks over to Ryker next to her, that smirk becoming a little more lively. “Good thing too. Not sure what I’d have done if you’d just gone after everything yesterday.”

You would have been fine,” Ryker intones. “I, on the other hand, would have been wracked with guilt for the whole day.” He smiles, eyes meeting hers. “I’m not, though, which is good.”

He pivots his gaze to Jean, then looks around further to each of them – the new people in his life, gathered together in one place. And Ryker Lane’s smile becomes a beam.
Last edited by Former Citizens of the Nimbus System on Fri Jun 07, 2019 5:23 pm, edited 4 times in total.
We are the Nexus Wardship of Former Citizens of the Nimbus System, not just a collection of people; please shorten to the pre-title or use the full name!

Emmet: You might see a mess -
Lord Business: Exactly: a bunch of weird, dorky stuff that ruined my perfectly good stuff!
Emmet: Okay. What I see are people, inspired by each other and by you - people taking what you made and making something new out of it.

The central Nimban cultural ideal summed up in an exchange from The Lego Movie.

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Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Vangaziland » Fri Jun 07, 2019 4:28 pm

The new Star Trek series was so big in Esportivan Vangaziland that local hookah bars were airing the latest episode. Jessica Franssen and several VMR team members met at a small place in Drosopol. The fanfare wasn't as major as it would be in North Emeros. The weather had been mostly nice, except for a few quick showers.

Jang Xiaopeng was in town for the first Vannish Grand Prix held outside of the Mainland. "I'm so glad this is a Klingon episode", Jang said to Jessica while she sampled the hookah. The sound of bubbles reverberated across the café. It was almost a surreal scene, seeing people out on the town watching science fiction.

Perhaps it had something to do with the herbal shisha blend in left wing utopia Vangaziland.

Star Trek was a show about peaceful exploration, inspirational technology, and when it come to Klingons... Violence.


Standing shoulder to shoulder in front of the shuttle's viewport, the pair of Klingon warriors were offered their first glimpse of their intended destination: a Vor'cha battle cruiser suspended quietly in the vast void of space. The sight was less than thrilling, and elicited a growl from B'Elara; her hands folded to fists and arms crossed sternly against her armoured chest. "They dishonour us," she snarled softly, her gaze dark and deadly as she glanced aside at Mez, wondering his thoughts on the matter.

The Wuv'a'tem's exterior was dilapidated, neglected and in obvious need of repairs. The interior could only look worse, by B'Elara's estimate of the situation. None of this came as a surprise, of course, but it was still a disappointment. Try as they might, try hard as her crew did, their achievements were ignored -- or worse, they were met by a pretense of honour, such as this one. B'Elara granted a command and her crew, those who remained loyal in the coup that saw a traitor dead, all awarded and granted the honour of continuing to serve with her. But their new ship was an undeniable mess, formerly belonging to a commander and a House now in disgrace, and the original crew unlikely to be welcoming of their presence as usurpers.

It was all politics. B'Elara hated politics. She continued eyeing Mez, waiting for him to speak.

Mez twisted and writhed his toes underneath his pointy tipped boots. The dark Klingon was fighting an urge to kick the closest panel heavily. It was a fight he felt he was almost losing. His voice spoke in a restrained, angry tone through gritted teeth. "If the disruptor array is not aligned to at least ninety five percent." He closed his eyes and paused. The member of the House Tal had little faith in the traitor petaQ who used to command the ship.

After a deep breath, he realigned his expectations and continued with "Ninety two percent... I will rip the ship in two!"

The two prongs rose along with the Klingon male's foot. He brought the half kick back down to the ground and seemed to calm down. His voice took on a new proper tone. "On the other hand, the Vor'cha does make a fine vessel." A wicked grin pulled back to reveal dark, jagged teeth. "The heavy disruptor alone lights my dreams aflame!" His crimson-brown eyes turned from the commander back to the ship ahead.

B'Elara grunted in wordless agreement and flashed her teeth in a feral grin, smug now as she felt Mez's display of anger helped to vindicate her own seething irritation.

"We will make this ship worthy again," she vowed, scrutinizing Mez sidelong. "You may visit Engineering first thing." The male was predictable enough that she had no doubt he would rush immediately to engineering and begin twisting arms for a list of repairs necessary to the disruptors and other systems. It was far easier just to grant him permission now. Perhaps he'd do the work for her too, if any of the current crew dared to get in his way. Establishing dominance was critical.

The Klingon lieutenant clenched his fist and beat it against his chest in salute. His head bowed slightly as his eyes closed. "As you wish", he said enthusiastically. His heart held a special place for the Vor'cha. It was a weapon which needed to be restored.

The Vor'cha battle cruiser loomed closer as the shuttle drifted steadily toward it, the hangar bay doors open to greet them. The pair stared grimly as they slipped into its shadow, and then became engulfed by the cavernous maw that was its hangar. Through the viewport, they could see there was no one to greet them.

Mez moved towards the door as the pilot completed docking maneuvers. "They cannot stand and explain this ship's condition", Mez said about the empty welcome area. "They are.... embarrassed." A look of disgust ran across the Klingon's pointy face like a wave.

"And so they should be, but their shame has only just begun," B'Elara growled, the severe tone of her voice offset by an abrupt laugh as she considered where to start with things.

Her dark gaze swept the empty hangar's interior, rumbling softly in thought. "I will visit the bridge," she said at last. "Give a full report of the ship when you are done in engineering. I do not trust anything these petaQ will have to say."

After a quick acknowledgement, the lieutenant stomped off towards engineering. It had been some time since he was on a Vor'cha, but he still remembered the basic direction. Things should start looking more familiar shortly. As he made his way around a corner, another Klingon lieutenant made eye contact.

Mez bared his teeth and took a step closer. "Lieutenant", Mez said cordially as they passed each other.

"Lieutenant", replied the passer by. He meant to challenge Mez, but the newcomer deflected. Mez knew he had to pick his battles. The next time he ran into that Klingon, there would be little time for civility. The ship's state took precedence. He had to get things turned around quickly.

Jang continued to speak throughout the show. "I guarantee he's about to raise havoc." Jessica laughed nervously in response.

The bowels of engineering were dimly lit and comfortably warm, a soft thrum of reverberation felt through the deck with each step taken slowly as if through enemy territory. For that is precisely what the Wuv'a'tem was. An enemy to be challenged, a foe quickly dispatched and the vacant position claimed. The ship was under a new and more honourable command now, but that did not change the attitudes of its original crew.

Several warriors stood idling in one of the corridors, their guttural voices kept low and their shoulders hunched in a way that seemed almost conspiratory. Were they plotting something? They stopped talking the instant that Mez stepped into the corridor. All three turned to stare at him in silence.

The dark Klingon recognized tactical symbols on their uniforms. Without a pause, Mez stepped into the closest Klingon with a swinging cross. It caught his opponent off guard. While the first stumbled back, a second had started sprinting forward. Mez turned to twist and lock arms over his tackler. As he is taken to the ground, he connects a punch to his attacker. A third Klingon steps up to kick the new Chief Tactical Officer in the face.

A howl escapes along with Mez's boost of energy. He slams two fists down on the spine of the man who grasped him. The Klingon rolled off and writhed in pain. Mez struggled to stand and was met by the other two. One brought him into a standing grapple. The other punched Mez in the stomach. He jumped up and back on impact. Mez knocked his large head into his grappler. His low kick swept the closest man away.

Now there was one left. Punches were exchanged and blocked. Mez landed an elbow in his attacker's stomach after twisting into his turn. The tactical officer then caught his last assailant by the hip and twisted to toss him into the wall. His breathing was heavy as he leaned back against the wall for a moment. He could feel blood running from his mouth.

"You stand and socialize in corridors while the ship falls apart? I want each of you to start a full diagnostic on the heavy disruptor. Wait for my arrival!"

The second Klingon to have been dispatched looked up and said, "Aye sir." Mez pointed his finger menacingly before limping down the corridor towards engineering. As he looked around, the ship appeared to be in disrepair. His eyes focused on a panel that hung off it's station sideways.

"Arrgh!" The dark Klingon slammed his fists on the panel before punching the wall. "Useless!" He adjusted the control board, cursing as sparks flew on his touch. After it sunk into place, he continued on his way.

Once within engineering, Mez was greeted by the sight of chaos; bits and pieces of disassembled machinery lay scattered over the deck plating, exposed wires and vents hung from the hull above. Crouched in the middle of the mess was a younger Klingon female, who looked sharply at Mez and growled a gruff, "nuqneH," her steady hands continuing to rewire the frayed ends of a conduit line that had seen better days, much like the rest of the ship.

Mez was glad to see someone else working to right things. It was common to reply to the common greeting by stating one's intent. "I am hoping to improve power flow to the disruptor arrays", said the tactical officer. His eyes searched along the walls until he found a locker. Opening it, he rifled through an assortment of tools. Luckily, the sonic driver had not been lost. Mez grabbed it and moved to a nearby access terminal.

He knelt and activated the device, causing its two prongs to glow. It was scanning, recalibrating and repairing the computer by tuning its frequencies. The device flashed a bit too quickly. The lieutenant tucked the tool into his waistband. He picked up a hyperspanner while moving in position to adjust and reactivate the connections the engineer was piecing together.

"How long have you been on this ship?" He was hoping to figure out where she stands on the side of the ship's state.

As he grabbed tools and set to work, the female gave off a low growl, irritated perhaps by his unannounced presence, and she paused in her own work to watch him suspiciously. But as he seemed competent enough, she didn't interrupt him, instead offering a grunt in reply to his question and standing slowly to her feet. A decoupler was clutched in hand now as she stepped over the spool of wiring to begin tweaking open panels along one wall.

"Fifteen months," she answered moments later, her tone heavy with reluctance, and accompanied by a grimace. "I am K'aghra, daughter of Vilkra." She offered no House name.

Mez stifled an escaped chuckle into a grunt, knowing he had pushed her personal boundaries. He tried to focus on the task, but knew now he'd have to also finish the job she started. "Mez, son of K'laQ." He was happy to keep things informal. His mind was focused on getting the ship back in order. Since the engineer seemed focused on the same, he felt no hostility.

"Why has this ship fallen into such disrepair?"

Jang leaned over to Jess teasingly. "Don't you wish you had engineers like that on your team?"

Jess slapped Jang. "We do."
Last edited by Vangaziland on Fri Jun 07, 2019 4:30 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Vilita and Turori
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Moralistic Democracy

WGPC17 - twii.tur Pole Award bid

Postby Vilita and Turori » Fri Jun 07, 2019 5:34 pm



twii.tur looking to expand World Grand Prix sponsorships

twii.tur Office Park, Almintora, Turori :: Representatives from twii.tur could neither confirm nor deny that the short message communication platform was in the latter stages of negotiations with officials from the World Grand Prix Championship racing series to make the Turorian based company the official Pole Award sponsor of the worlds premier open-wheel racing organization. However, sources have suggested that after a season of lacklustre performance from the twii.tur backed iBen Toralmintii's Race Eelandii! Vilita and Turori World Grand Prix Motorworks team, twii.tur were looking for ways to associate their brand with success. It just so happened that both scenarios converged as the World Grand Prix Circuit visited the Lintulahti Circuit in Aboveland where Eelandii VTGP driver Rustom Ibuna turned the fastest lap in the qualification session to claim pole starting position for the Abovian Grand Prix. Seeing their car and driver being photographed after turning fast lap and earning the first starting position was perhaps a moment of instant motivation for the twii.tur marketing team. If they could actually be the presenting sponsor of the World Grand Prix Championship Pole Award, they would be associated with success on a week in week out basis - even if the twii.tur sponsored Eelandii VTGP team cars did not perform well.

Furthermore, as they dug deeper into the idea of putting a bid together for the Pole Award sponsorship, they only realized further how much sense it made. With its limited message transmission size and quick distribution, twii.tur messages were inherently designed to be short and impactful - Just like pole award qualifying in motor racing when drivers run a single lap or short number of circuits around the track but do so with pace often higher than any speeds reached on race day. It was an obvious connection that the twii.tur marketing had missed up until the point that Rustom Ibuna put them on pole position in Aboveland and all the connections became so obvious. While neither twii.tur nor World Grand Prix Officials could be reached for comment it has been reported that the World Grand Prix Championship organizing committee is considering commercial sponsorship of its weekly qualifying Pole Award and that twii.tur is a company that has shown interest in such a partnership.

twii.tur is a short message communication service that originated from Turori and allowed users to exchange content of 140 characters. The service was conceived as a way to allow officials to receive alerts and key information such as incoming weather notifications, major events and the ability to stay coordinated during a time of crisis but was under-utilized and doubts were raised as to whether the overhead of the infrastructure was worthwhile to maintain. As capabilities of interconnected and handheld communication devices improved, the Turorian Weather & Information Interchange (Twii) was adapted into a public facing service where users could sign up to create their own twii nodes where users would sign up to a twii group to receive all the twii messages delivered by members of that group. Ultimately, as demand grew, a fully public release of twii came at the connected location twii.tur where all users can participate in the public twii, selecting which messages to receive by adding individual users, groups or topics to their twii.tur feed.

More recent developments and additions to twii.tur included the introduction of quick bangs, images, emotitags and users with high overall ratings can even post video of 30 seconds or less onto their twii feed. twii.tur recently served as the Official Global Messaging & Communications Partner for World Cup 81 in Banija and the Free Republics, where its number of active user accounts and overall system activity level nearly doubled. twii.tur got their start in Motorsports during the seventh season of the Nation-States Stock Car Racing Association when they sponsored Cocoabo #28 in select races for Team Tropicorp. With disappointing results in stock cars, twii.tur switched their Sports Marketing budget to the open wheel arena becoming the primary commercial partner of iBen Toralmintii's Race Eelandii! Vilita and Turori World Grand Prix Motorworks team with drivers Rustom Ibuna and former World Drivers Champion Jai Kardaeri. The Eelandii VTGP team and by extension its primary commercial partner twii.tur added a third driver in the second half of the season in Happiloppers Drake Stevenson.


Status Quo maintained in Supplier Standings

Abovian Grand Prix, Lintulahti International Circuit, Lintulahti, Aboveland :: Following Round 8 of the World Grand Prix Championship season the WGPC17 Supplier Performance standings saw no changes in the order of all suppliers from 1-8. It was a stark contrast from one race prior where the standings were jumbled completely after Vannish Motors Racing switch to Petrovi tires and strong finishes from Sinval Motorsports and Polaris Racing propelled Grafonil and Cypress off the bottom of the table.

While no positions in the standings changed after the Abovian Grand Prix, there was still a notable shake up in the standings as the Top 5 suppliers compressed together points wise thanks to the long awaited first victory of Nexus Racing driver Ryker Lane. The result catapulted Brutus Tyres from the bottom pack to the mid pack in the table points wise having moved within striking distance of Petrovi thanks to the 25 points earned from the Abovian victory

WGPC17 Supplier Performance Standings
After 8 of 13 Events
[1] - 138 :: Tropicorp Racing Supply
[2] - 103 :: Solymok
[3] - 77 :: Petrovi
[4] - 71 :: Pire Eleven
[5] - 60 :: Brutus Tyres
[6] - 32 :: Grafonil
[7] - 29 :: Cypress
[8] - 24 :: Stellenbosch

There was even compression at the top of the table as the runner-up finish for Badai Angin's Alex Dimitrianov kept Solymok at least in the shadows of Tropicorp Racing Supply, chipping away at the deficit they had unfortunately developed after a seasons worst showing at their home race in Filindostan. Petrovi remained third earning their second consecutive Fastest Lap award and third of the season - tied for most with Tropicorp Racing Supply as the only two suppliers that have recorded more than one Fastest Lap award thus far.

While Terho Talvela salvaged a good performance for Supplier Performance Standings leader Tropicorp Racing Aelund at their hometown track in Aboveland, it was otherwise a bit of a struggle for some of Tropicorp Racing Supply's top drivers. Mirrors Racing driver and series Iron Man R.L. Cruisin suffered an early retirement from the event as the struggles for the Starblaydi team continued. Pole Sitter Rustom Ibuna also failed to finish the event unable to take advantage of their starting position to get their season back on track. Likewise, Turori's iBen Toralmintii made minimal progress towards climbing the standings in the Drivers Championship after leading the race early on they had their own pit strategy issues sliding back to 9th place in the final order just one event after the 'pit exit of doom' that aided teammate Terho Talvela's run to victory. The World Grand Prix circuit now heads off to Vangaziland where Vannish Motors Racing will be looking to give themselves a boost for the final stretch and take their Petrovi Tyres back into the Supplier Standings race.

Last edited by Vilita and Turori on Sat Jun 08, 2019 12:53 am, edited 3 times in total.

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Postby Sorlovia » Sat Jun 08, 2019 12:46 am

Golden Lion Club, Aboveland

Twii.tur was something that interested Gregori a great deal. Sorlovia hadn’t yet developed any social networks of its own but the concept was of great interest to many young Sorlovians and even a large number of prominent business leaders. Volkov, Sorlovia’s largest electronics and telecommunication firm, had taken an interest in twii.tur as a revolutionary service that had immense potential. Such an innovative platform offered connectivity and inter-personal communication that was a hallmark of a progressive nation. Sorlovia was intent on putting the evils of its communist past behind it to take up the mantle of a capitalist democratic nation. A social network and associated social media would be a prime part of this new identity.

Gregori flicked through the news article as he waited for Elena to return from the bathroom. He had already considered created a twii.tur account. It would be very useful in helping him keep in touch with his friends and even his pit crew during WGPC17. It could also help to establish his personal brand as a racer and bring awareness to his sports bar Jesters. A part of him hoped that they would establish a forward facing social media site that would allow users to create personal profiles. That was a concept that deeply interested him and one that had the potential to do very well indeed. His homeland could potentially be a highly lucrative market for twii.tur if their ambition was great enough. Some variety of partnership with Volkov would see twii.tur meet huge success in the vacant Sorlovia social media and social network market. Or they could simply branch into Sorlovia alone.

“What are you thinking of getting for dinner?” Elena said as she slid into the chair opposite him “I’m in the mood for something with fish.”

“I feel like a nice big steak,” Gregori replied with a soft smile “you know how much I enjoy eating red meat. It fills you up and leaves you satisfied.”

“Every red-blooded Sorlovian man loves red meat,” she replied with a chuckle “and there’s nothing at all wrong with that. Red meat is good for the blood and the brain. That’ll help you in the WGPC as well.”

The Golden Lion Club was a newly opened fine dining restaurant that Gregori had stumbled upon by accident. He’d immediately taken a liking to it because of the classy atmosphere and the expertise of the chefs. It was the sort of place that a woman like Elena deserved. He’d told her to dress up flash for a night of class and style. He normally preferred more relaxed and casual places but there was no harm in going to a high calibre restaurant once in a while. He could easily afford it and Elena more than deserved such an experience.

It would also give him a welcome break from the pressures of the WGPC and keep his mind off what might’ve gone wrong at Lintulahti. He’d spent the past few days practicing on a local test circuit and pouring over pages of data. He deserved a nice dinner with his beautiful fiancé. If he refused to have a break he’d end up exhausting himself and then he’d do even worse in the next race. That just was not an option. Instead he would rest and train and then rest and train some more. But first he would enjoy his evening out with the woman that would be his wife. He would enjoy a nice glass of wine, a high quality meal and the company of the most beautiful woman he'd ever met.

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New York Times Democracy

Postby Nekoni » Sat Jun 08, 2019 3:41 pm

Studio 5, Canera City Studios, Marina Point, Nekoni
Tuesday 4, June

Marina Point was fairly well steeped in WGPC history considering Nekoni's relatively small period of global motorsport recognition. To its north, way back in 1996, the first chequered flag had been waved on what was once the country's premier racing venue. The Nekoni International Circuit was always an exciting place to race, particularly for faster vehicles, as the mix of tight infield complexes and full-throttle blasts along the seafront meant that a driver had to be the prime all-rounder to win there, and the audiences loved it, too. The internal ground became a popular area to host music festivals and massive open-air concerts.

The circuit, expanded to 6km in later years, took on a whole new lease of life in 2013, when it welcomed two new entities: the WGPC, and Alexandra Mayari. Mayari worked relentlessly to get the spot that she did, spending over half a year in the track's utility closet that she had converted into her own private room, the days spent as a pit engineer for hire to pay the bills, and the nights spent learning the feel of open-wheel racing on her own simulator. It had clearly worked, as Mayari pushed through the next season to go from test driver, through to an actual seat, then through again to hitting the podium at the first ever Nekoni GP.

The years after were a rollercoaster. She'd experience her first race win internationally, get punched in the face by her boss, win the entire championship on the last race of the season...and then her ex-boss tried to kill her in an airport hangar. Following that, it was only downhill for her as a racer, until, like the NIC itself, there was no place for her on the grid. Much like how Alexandra found new life as a pit boss for a rebranded version of the team she raced for, the Nekoni International Circuit's dismantling in 2016 caused the area to take on a whole new role: as Nekoni's prime television studios. The Canera City project (named after the sea it borders) was completed last year, and already every major television channel has graced its hyper-modern office blocks and studios for recording their shows. And hence, tonight, the entire story of Mayari and the NIC came full-circle, as her and her protégé, Erica Okumura, sat waiting in the green room, as the young driver was about to be interviewed for the live chat show, Live at Studio Five.

Erica sat in one of the plush backstage sofas, Alex sat facing opposite her. She knew Erica still wasn't used to having cameras shoved in her face (as proven down the road at Varea, when Alex had to come to her aid by shooing the paparazzi away like she was swatting a fly), and she could see that her hand was visibly shaking, the champagne in the glass she was holding bubbling as she did. Alex started conversation in her usual way.

"You've gotta be careful you don't spill that", she spoke as she pointed to the glass. "You know that stuff's not going to be cheap." Erica smiled back, a light chuckle from her closed mouth being the only sound she had made for a while. Alex continued. "You have stage fright, don't you?" She nodded. "I don't get it. I put my life on the line every other Sunday in front of the world and I'm fine. I have to do fifteen minutes speaking in front a crowd without an autocue and I'm bricking it." She took a sip of her champagne. "This is helping, though."

Alex laughed, before attempting to pep-talk her into calming down. "Just imagine that they're naked, right? Isn't that what they tell you to do? Besides, you're only talking to one guy, he isn't going to know shit about racing, and neither are the audience." She grabbed a peach from the complimentary fruitbowl on the table in front of her and started biting into it. "It's not gonna be that hard. Talk a little, share the sofa with whatever film star they bring in this week, pretend to laugh at the host's crap jokes, end with watching some live music. Boom, TV op in the bag, have a celebratory drink in the bar, collect your cheque on the way out. It'll be fun, honest."
Fifteen minutes passed, the studio was packed, and the show was in full swing. The host of Live at Studio 5, a man almost offensively metrosexual had just finished his opening monologue about the week's current events, cumulating in an expectedly awful one-liner about how the environmental secretary's name 'magically' becomes comedy gold when you switch the first letter of Mr Dénis Scoffier to a P. He had sauntered to his desk as the live band played a quick five second sting of the main show theme, when the call came, and a cameraman had raced to the green room where Erica was in, ready to follow her out into the bright lights of the red and gold studio.

"My first guest tonight isn't exactly going to be on Dénis' Christmas card list any time soon, although her car pumps out about as much crap into the atmosphere as his mouth does, ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for Nekoni's own, WGPC driver Erica Okumura!" Alexandra darted behind the green room wall out of shot, as the camera focused on a still rather nervous Erica as a runner off-camera gesticulated at her to stand up, smile and make her way out front. Fortunately, the audience were cheering her, which made her feel mildly more comfortable. The runner handing her another glass of sparkling wine certainly aided, too. She survived the walk through the backstage without embarassingly falling on her face, and made the journey down the steps to the studio floor, remembering to give the live band a cursory nod on the way down. 'Part one complete', she thought. 'Now for the hard part. I can do this.'

The host eased her in gently, with the standard customary greetings, Erica getting a quick laugh by saying how weird it was tonight to be wearing something more formal than a racing overall. Then, he dropped a question that she didn't want to hear. "So, last season, right? You were running top three, and then you dropped off after the midpoint. So far now, you're twentieth, and your team mate's beating you. What's happened?"

Both Erica, sat on stage, and Alexandra, in the green room, felt a cold sting at the same time when he dropped that bomb that quickly. He may not know anything about racing, but damn it, he knew how to twist the knife in. Erica took a second to compose herself, took a sip of champagne, and tried to give the most milquetoast 'generic racing driver' answer that she could. "It's the hardest season ever. Everybody's in there to win, everybody's getting better and faster. If I raced exactly as well as I did last year, I would be last every race." So far so good.

"Do you think you're in the right team?" Another curveball.

"God yeah, absolutely. The team's been absolutely brilliant, even if the results haven't gone our way it's been a great dynamic to work for, and Alexandra's a great manager holding it all together." Well done, Erica thought. 'It's far better to do a generic interview than one memorable for all the wrong reasons.'

"...even when she threw you out of a plane that one time?" The audience laughed, and Erica looked surprised. "How did you know that?" She could have sworn it was a private test.

He turned to the flat-screen TV at the side of his desk. "OK, so, here's footage from on board the plane, right?" It was a black and white fuzzy video with very poor audio, but it was clearly one of the event. Alexandra tosses the Rubik's Cube to her, tells her clearly that the parachute isn't going to open until she solves it, and kicks her out of the plane, the audience able to hear her scream fade out to the sound of the rotors.

The host looked flabbergasted. " the hell was THAT?" Erica said that it was a training session. "For what, surviving a crash by landing on your face?" She turned red as she tried to explain how the fall was to test control under pressure, as the idiot host kept on suggesting dumb alternatives for what she could do next if the results continued to fall. He started with "trying to open a padlock with a mouthful of bees", and they somehow got less sensical, ending with one quite tasteless pun about the floods in neighbouring north Proluvia, that had killed 15 the week previously. There was more than laughter for that one; one long "ooohhhhh" of mock disgust from the guffawing piles of flesh in the audience.
The show started off bad and went worse. Erica clearly looked like she wasn't enjoying herself, and the discussion went from the WGPC to her sponsorship with IceFoxx, that damn energy drink. The fanservice adverts that had lined every bus and phone box this side of the country. The host continued his descent to the bottom of the barrel, this time walking the tightrope between 'unfunny overexaggerated parody of 'lad' culture' and 'flagrantly misogynistic leering' and somehow managing to straddle both sides at once.

Off-stage, in the relative tranquility of the green room, Alexandra looked like she was going to pop a blood vessel, as she paced up and down whilst on her phone, yelling at the channel commissioner for having the nerve to book this 'absolute arsehole' to demean her talent live on TV. On screen, it looked like the pressure cooker was about to blow. The second guest had joined her, a movie star from southern Esportiva. He was known for comedy roles, and, unlike the host, could get through a joke or a one-liner to camera without laughing like a hyena at what he had just done. He knew that Erica was in trouble, and valiantly attempted to steer conversation towards him and keep her out of the line of fire for as much as possible. Sadly, he failed.

The actor had finished talking about filming of the latest movie he did, and the difficulty of being a married man and having to film a sex scene with another woman. With no less than a beat of him finishing speaking, the host turned to Erica. "So, speaking of intimacy, you always seem to be with Alexandra Mayari whenever you're doing anything...are you sleeping with her?" That was it. Erica didn't want to play any more. She silently stood out of her sofa and turned to go off-screen. The host stood up and walked towards her, calling "wait, don't go, you didn't answer my que-"...his sentence being culled by Erica slapping the nasty out of his mouth. As she walked off, pride only slightly restored, she could hear the actor in the distance. "You deserved that. You goddamn deserved that, mate."

When she hit the backstage, she ran to the green room, where Alex was waiting with her car keys in hand. "We're going. Now. Before I slap the bastard myself." As they left the studio in Alexandra's hired car, with the live show descended to chaos and forced to cut to a premature commercial break, they departed for the airport, for the first flight possible to Vangaziland. Erica, safe from the prying eyes of the audience and the cameras, cried from the frustration of the events that preceded her, as Alexandra focused on the road ahead, still seething with anger at what they did to her talent. Her protégé. Her friend.

Until tonight, Alexandra always held Marina Point close to her heart. However, like the circuit that once stood mightily against the Canera Sea, it was gone now, and what was left was disgust.
Eurovision apologist, International Broadcast Alliance founding member and current Council Member (Sports)

Debuted in 26, currently entered 25 times

Wins: 1 (70)
Podiums: 2 (70, 80)
Top 10s: 9 (46, 63, 64, 70, 71, 73, 75, 78, 80)
Hostings: 2 (64, 80)

Former Scuderia Fuoco e Ghiacchi, now Polaris Racing Team
WGPC 13 Drivers & Constructors Champion
7-time Grand Prix Host
Renowned* Track Designer

*by himself

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Former Citizens of the Nimbus System
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Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Former Citizens of the Nimbus System » Sun Jun 09, 2019 2:13 pm


Lintulahti International Circuit, Lintulahti, Nord Maakunta, Aboveland
30th of May

Ryker Lane feels. The air brushing across his skin and letting the sash over his shoulder billow out behind him, the fragrance of the pine needles wisping through the air, the view of the pristine mountains to their West… It’s wonderful. Good memories here… Aside from being beautiful anyway. Not wide expanses stretching to the horizon like home – this place is… Nestled. Mmm.

He sips from the tea in his hand – not his go-to-drink but he’s feeling more than comfortable enough to be his adaptable self – and the warmth of the liquid flows through him. The energy and the caffeine are a nice boon, for he needs the focus; he and Terho walk at the front of the drivers of the WGPC, making their way along the track before the driving begins tomorrow, and he may as well study it. In his mind’s eye, Ryker recalls the sweeping turns, the falls and the rises, of last year’s laps and battles.

It’s a different version of the course – don’t have the fastest lap for this one, he reminds himself. Plenty’s the same, though. He looks down towards Turn 3.

“Imagikinesis and instant torque, yes!”

He grins to himself, closing his eyes.

And then he opens them again as, from beside him, Terho begins to speak.


Ryker lets out a laugh. “Somehow I’m not sure Tim would agree!” Then he smiles, hands behind his back as he gazes through the trees towards Lintulahti’s three famous uphill hairpins. “But I’m glad you feel that way, Terho…”

He considers, head glancing tarmacwards before looking the Abovian driver in the eye. “You know, that’s not all of it. Imagination, Nexus Racing are special – I’ve had the best years of my life with them, no doubt. But – well, do you remember last season?” He shakes his head, chuckling not in a bitter way but in the light and humble manner of a man recalling a particularly silly episode of his past. “Those first few races when I had a run of bad luck really took things out of me. Everyone on the team was working as hard as ever and I was still racing hard – everything was working – but we just weren’t getting the results. It took a lot out of me and, well, by the end of the season I wasn’t racing hard. I just wasn’t resilient enough and because of that I couldn’t get back on my feet.”

Ryker smiles again, fulfilment etched into his face. “Victoria taught me that. At the end of the day, I’m the one in the car. I’m the endpoint of the Coalescence, the one binding it all together, and that takes me being strong on my own as well as with everyone else.” He looks at his fellow Abovian appraisingly. “You know, that’s something I really admire about you, Terho. Martin and I got invited into Nexus Racing but you – you and Edvin pretty much made TRÆ. You pulled together two of the strongest racing nations by sheer willpower; that says a lot about you. And well, it’s serving you well now!”

Ryker laughs; then he grins that savagely joyous grin that he takes on in anticipation of pure, demanding competition. “You know what, though? I think I’ve got a good handle on it too, now.” He claps Terho on the back, raising his cup-holding arm to his chest. “And I don’t plan on being any further back than I was in Filindostan this time out!”
Last edited by Former Citizens of the Nimbus System on Sun Jun 09, 2019 2:16 pm, edited 3 times in total.
We are the Nexus Wardship of Former Citizens of the Nimbus System, not just a collection of people; please shorten to the pre-title or use the full name!

Emmet: You might see a mess -
Lord Business: Exactly: a bunch of weird, dorky stuff that ruined my perfectly good stuff!
Emmet: Okay. What I see are people, inspired by each other and by you - people taking what you made and making something new out of it.

The central Nimban cultural ideal summed up in an exchange from The Lego Movie.

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Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Audioslavia » Sun Jun 09, 2019 9:57 pm

for Practice and Qualifying at Drosopol Circuit

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Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Audioslavia » Sun Jun 09, 2019 10:05 pm

Week 14: Practice
Conditions:      	Dry
Lap Record: 00:01:35.190
Session Length: 75 minutes
Nation: VNG
Circuit: Drosopol Circuit


Drivers have 75 minutes to complete as many laps of the track as they like
POS #   DRIVER                              FASTEST LAP     GAP TO LEADER				
1 7 Vijay Tripathi 00:01:40.055 00:00:00.000
2 64 Carsten O'Rourke 00:01:40.125 00:00:00.070
3 77 iBen Toralmintii 00:01:40.177 00:00:00.122
4 23 Jelena Colac-Strek 00:01:40.229 00:00:00.174
5 1 Jessica Franssen 00:01:40.250 00:00:00.195
6 94 Ryker Lane 00:01:40.289 00:00:00.234
7 63 Dalia Dahl 00:01:40.558 00:00:00.504
8 41 Jean Mercer-Daly 00:01:40.598 00:00:00.543
9 37 Ryan Harris-Jones 00:01:40.697 00:00:00.642
10 71 Rustom Ibuna 00:01:40.826 00:00:00.771
11 47 Erica Okumura 00:01:41.138 00:00:01.083
12 56 Terho Talvela 00:01:41.189 00:00:01.134
13 22 Jasmin Kranjska 00:01:41.222 00:00:01.167
14 48 Tyra Tabuso 00:01:41.230 00:00:01.175
15 27 Gregori Krupin 00:01:41.484 00:00:01.429
16 49 Benjamin Talison 00:01:41.855 00:00:01.800
17 14 Sigur Bjarnason 00:01:41.937 00:00:01.882
18 81 Drake Stevenson 00:01:42.118 00:00:02.063
19 29 Esteban Guilhermez 00:01:42.228 00:00:02.173
20 18 Taylor Blake 00:01:42.881 00:00:02.826
21 51 RL Cruisin 00:01:43.801 00:00:03.746
22 42 Alex Dimitrianov 00:01:44.269 00:00:04.215
23 52 Sayono Souzare 00:01:44.517 00:00:04.462
24 15 Tabita Novax 00:01:44.764 00:00:04.709
25 3 Darius Castellammare 00:01:44.907 00:00:04.852
26 65 Hunter Digri 00:01:46.533 00:00:06.479
27 20 Mick Schramm 00:01:47.010 00:00:06.955
28 17 Evdaden Carnétier 00:01:48.778 00:00:08.724

Week 14: Qualifying
Conditions:      	Dry
Lap Record: 00:01:35.190
Qualifying Type: Traditional
Nation: VNG
Circuit: Drosopol Circuit

POS #   DRIVER                              FASTEST LAP     GAP TO LEADER				
1 1 Jessica Franssen 00:01:35.201 00:00:00.000
2 7 Vijay Tripathi 00:01:35.298 00:00:00.097
3 94 Ryker Lane 00:01:35.394 00:00:00.193
4 37 Ryan Harris-Jones 00:01:35.399 00:00:00.198
5 49 Benjamin Talison 00:01:35.452 00:00:00.250
6 56 Terho Talvela 00:01:35.473 00:00:00.272
7 17 Evdaden Carnétier 00:01:35.486 00:00:00.285
8 41 Jean Mercer-Daly 00:01:35.517 00:00:00.315
9 20 Mick Schramm 00:01:35.649 00:00:00.448
10 14 Sigur Bjarnason 00:01:35.817 00:00:00.616
11 65 Hunter Digri 00:01:35.852 00:00:00.651
12 77 iBen Toralmintii 00:01:35.925 00:00:00.724
13 81 Drake Stevenson 00:01:35.951 00:00:00.749
14 23 Jelena Colac-Strek 00:01:35.980 00:00:00.779
15 42 Alex Dimitrianov 00:01:35.981 00:00:00.779
16 71 Rustom Ibuna 00:01:36.068 00:00:00.867
17 3 Darius Castellammare 00:01:36.111 00:00:00.910
18 48 Tyra Tabuso 00:01:36.563 00:00:01.361
19 63 Dalia Dahl 00:01:37.002 00:00:01.801
20 47 Erica Okumura 00:01:38.060 00:00:02.859
21 27 Gregori Krupin 00:01:38.171 00:00:02.970
22 22 Jasmin Kranjska 00:01:38.922 00:00:03.720
23 64 Carsten O'Rourke 00:01:38.938 00:00:03.736
24 52 Sayono Souzare 00:01:38.948 00:00:03.747
25 18 Taylor Blake 00:01:38.954 00:00:03.752
26 15 Tabita Novax 00:01:39.290 00:00:04.088
27 29 Esteban Guilhermez 00:01:39.296 00:00:04.095
28 51 RL Cruisin 00:01:39.974 00:00:04.772

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The Sherpa Empire
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Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby The Sherpa Empire » Mon Jun 10, 2019 10:54 am

Vijay Tripathi found himself the center of a lot of attention when he arrived in Vangaziland. He was driving for the home team, even if it wasn't his actual home country. It was a lot of pressure, but he liked that sort of pressure. It kept him focused.

Some things in Drosopol were oddly familiar, but then other things were completely foreign. The hookah bars reminded him of home, but the architecture and the way people dressed still made it rather obvious that they were not in the Sherpa Empire.

He wasn't sure what was happening with Yuan Qiang. She was getting a passport, and Kai Qiang had arranged for his daughter to stay in Nanjing with his girlfriend and an au pair, so that Yuan was free to make her own plans -- but the death of their friend had dampened her spirits, and she was having second thoughts about jetting off to see Tripathi. She said it felt wrong. Tripathi was a little frustrated, but he understood that grieving for a friend was just something that took time to work itself out. He would just have to mind his own business for a while and give her some space. In a way, it was good, because it made it easier to get his mind off her and focus on racing.

The Vangazis were keeping him busy anyway. There were the usual pre-race preparations, which Tripathi was taking quite seriously, especially at his "home" track. And there were plenty of fans he could schmooze with he wanted a break. At practice and qualifying, everything went smoothly. Tripathi was a little disappointed that Franssen had beaten him out for the pole, but he was sure the fans were happy to see both VMR cars at the front of the pack. It was a promising start to the weekend, and he was eager to follow it up with a good race.
༄༅། །འགྲོ་བ་མི་རིགས་ག་ར་དབང་ཆ་འདྲ་མཉམ་འབད་སྒྱེཝ་ལས་ག་ར་གིས་གཅིག་གིས་གཅིག་ལུ་སྤུན་ཆའི་དམ་ཚིག་བསྟན་དགོས།
Following new legislation in The Sherpa Empire, life is short but human kindness is endless.
Alternate IC names: Sherpaland, Pharak

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Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Hapilopper » Mon Jun 10, 2019 4:43 pm

The paddock, Drosopol Circuit, Esportivan Vangaziland
Immediately after qualifying

Drake Stevenson had just been pushed back into his garage after making his last run of the qualifying session, and he was extremely happy with what he had just done. It was obvious he had worked for the last several weeks to improve his familiarity with the Eelandii VTGP team and his car, and that effort had showed. Two monitors were placed on the front of his car to inform him of how qualifying had gone. The first showed his placing in the session – 13th fastest, .749 seconds slower than polesitter Jess Franssen, but over a tenth of a second faster than his teammate Rustom Ibuna. The second monitor showed the world feed of the remaining cars on track, desperately trying to improve their grid placings before the Vannish Grand Prix.

Tyler Oakley, Drake’s race-day strategist, walked over to the side of the car, sat on the left-front tire, and smiled.

“You know, you’ve really improved since Aboveland,” Oakley said. “At this rate, you’ll be scoring points in no time.”

“That’s the goal, man,” Drake said in response. “Just to get a few points scored for you guys, that’s really all that matters to me.”

It was the second of three races for Drake’s arrangement for iBen Toralmintii's Race Eelandii! Vilita and Turori World Grand Prix Motorworks. The first one had gone about as well as a religious zealot at an atheist convention, and there were real concerns that Drake had done nothing but waste the time of the team and those that worked long hours to get him ready to go racing. Drake now had two more chances to prove that he could do something spectacular in a Grand Prix car. If he ran well in Vangaziland, and then again in the Nimbus System, maybe, just maybe, it would be good enough for a full-time seat next season. But, in all probabilities, Jai Kardaeri would be back in the seat after the Nimban Grand Prix and Drake would be headed home to Hapilopper, and potentially back to reclaim his seat at Team Blue.

If he wanted to prove he belonged, he HAD to run well these next two races. There was no alternative. If he ended up without even a single point, in all probabilities he couldn’t return to the World Grand Prix Championship, because it wasn’t as if he was driving a bad racing car. The Eelandii VTGP car was a good car, capable of doing a great deal on the race track. Rustom Ibuna ran near the front of the field in Aboveland. These cars could win races, and Stevenson needed to prove he could do it.

Helping him out, beyond the extended testing, the track familiarization and getting acquainted with his crewmates at the Eelandii team was the fact that, for the first time in several weeks, Drake actually had a clear mind. That morning, Drake had enjoyed a conversation with his high school girlfriend, Gabriela Petrescu. The two had split up in less-than-ideal circumstances a dozen years ago, and following a chance encounter at the airport, Drake had given her his new number, out of the hopes they could talk to just clear the air. This morning, as Drake was finishing his track walk, she called, having moved back to her home country several weeks before.

He knew their time together was over, and he wasn’t looking to restart a long-dead relationship. But it was still great to hear from her.

Drake climbed from the car, grabbed a nearby drink bottle from a toolbox and walked out the back. Waiting for him near the back door was Doug Goodman, the Hapilopper Television Network’s Grand Prix reporter. Goodman’s frustration was almost palpable. Since arriving in Vangaziland from Hapilopper, he hadn’t been able to get a hold of Drake for a comment about anything. He got Marty Lewis of Preston Autos for a few comments, but even Marty hadn’t even gotten a hold of Drake. Unlike the previous race, Drake had spent his entire time with the Eelandii VTGP crew, testing, reviewing telemetry and finding ways to improve.

“DRAKE! A word?” Goodman called to the Hapiloppian driver.

Drake turned back to Goodman and motioned for him to walk with him. Drake was headed to the Eelandii hospitality facility for some lunch. It wasn’t as if Drake had been avoiding the media, he just didn’t have the time to talk. “I’ve spent my entire time with the Eelandii crew since I got here,” Drake said, very obviously in a hurry. “There’s so much I’ve had to do and I haven’t had the time to breathe. Let’s get some lunch and I’ll tell you whatever you need to know.”

With Drake not needing to hit the track any further for the rest of the day, he spoke to Goodman for around an hour, explaining why he had been so hard to find for the last several weeks. It wasn’t as if he was ashamed, or deliberately trying to avoid anyone, but rather he had been trying to prevent another fiasco from happening, like what had happened in Aboveland.

“I’m not trying to hide from anyone,” Drake said. “But I’ve had a lot to do. Being a racing driver is a full-time job, and even more so when you’re trying to compress months of learning into two weeks. That’s why I went to Vilita and Turori instead of going back to Hapilopper. I went back to Hapilopper after the last mid-season test and didn’t go back after I had found out I got the seat. I cost myself a lot by that sort of thinking. You can’t just think you can get into a racing car with no practice and no testing and be as fast as people like Jess Franssen.”
Goodman pressed on, and asked Drake about his expectations for the race weekend.

“At the very least, I’d like to be faster than I was in Aboveland. That’s the very least I can do,” Drake calmly stated, thinking about his prospects for the race. “At most, I’d like to score some points. It’s not out of the realm of possibility. As a matter of fact, I think it’s more than feasible I could finish 6th or 7th on race day. Actually winning the race is out of the question, I just haven’t gotten over that hump yet. But I can score points in this car.”

Drake thought about those last words, and smiled heavily.

“You know what? It’d be cool as hell if I won. It’d validate everything about this whole experiment,” Drake said, smiling. “I’m not that much slower than the VMR cars. Maybe, if I go at it a little bit more, maybe I could win this damned thing. I’ve got the car to do it.”
Hapilopper: The home of TEAM BLUE and the winner of the 70th Baptism of Fire!
NSSCRA drivers: #8 - Frank Bronson | #73 - Taylor Henderson | #81 - Drake Stevenson
Preston Autos Grand Prix Racing: #50 - Rudy Edwards (HAP) | #8 - William Archer (Abanhfleft)
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Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Lisander » Mon Jun 10, 2019 8:00 pm

"Do you think he gets frustrated with that?" Anne asked.

"Maybe, but his contract is almost lifelong. Augustus Camden adores him. Everyone knows it's not his problem. This is already proven. It's the power unit of Camden that is completely below the rest." Janeth replied, and her voice sounded like a permanent dismal. "Actually, this engine that Camden built was bad from the start. Novax engineers even tried something, but even they seem to have given up."

"Yeah, that's pretty sad." Anne was still staring at Darius Castellammare, who was lying on the Paddock's couch, with an airy, distant expression on his face. Her job was just to wear tight clothing that would value her physical attributes, hold umbrellas and take pictures, but she was worried. She was a fan after all, and she wanted to stay on the job.

In addition to that temporary job, Anne was a college student, as was her co-host, Janeth. Both were in their senior year of mechanical engineering at Concordia University in Kasandora. She had a deep interest in racing, and being on the WGPC was almost a dream, even if the team was in a very difficult situation. People were starting to resign, too. - "It's difficult .... More and more engineers are asking to leave the team because of the lack of results."

"If the situation continues, we probably will be fired." Janeth was a pessimist. She would always worst things possible. And worse, she said in the worst possible hour. Everyone was hearing. He had been with the team since the preseason, and had not seen a single decent result for the #3 car.

"Fired, I do not know. Promoted, perhaps. Are the two ladies engineers?" A female voice called them out. It was one of the board members, Carolina Lasseps. - "We have just fired a Lollipop man who was with us for the last sixteen years. Could any of you take the job? Probably just for this weekend since there is not enough time to get another one. Both of you have seen Pit-stops enough this season to understand how this works. With some training in tomorrow's warm-up laps, it can work. There will be a bonus in the payment, of course."

Anne looked at Janeth. Her expression was one of displeasure.

"Do not look at me. I'm not in the mood for this job. I'm fine with what I'm doing, and to be honest, I did not pay much attention to it. If you want, Anne, go ahead. I'm not interested in this kind of responsibility, not at all."

Lasseps looked at Anne, waiting for an answer. The brunette scratched her head for two seconds and thought for a moment, before answering the question that had been asked with another question.

"Can I take off that high heel and get some rest?"

Lasseps smiled and replied,

"Sure, let's get you a uniform that suits you, and if you kept wearing that tight overall, your butt would get the mechanics team's attention."

Anne did not know whether to laugh or to be ashamed at those words. Since she was young, she had had problems with her body. It would be perfect to work as a model if she had a slightly more handsome face. However, she had an "ordinary" face, and her half-time jobs had been only three. The first as a "dog food girl" in a supermarket, then a model for a catalog of bikinis where her face did not show up, and now as Grid Girl from Camden Motors, helping her college classmate.

"Well ... I hope my body does not attract much attention."

The two women left together, leaving Janeth behind. Some time later, Anne was ready for the new function.

"Guys, we already met, but now I'm going to work with you. I'm Anne Siebler, mechanical engineering student, and I'll be the new Lollipop woman for car # 3."

Darius Castellammare, beside her, looked at the other mechanics with a stern expression.

"Gentlemen, we're all friends here. But if I hear a sexist joke about Miss Siebler, about her job or her position, I will not have trouble in firing more people. Okay? Jensen, pass on the instructions for pit-stops."

The team, listening to the pilot's words, nodded. Their leader, Othello Jensen, was a man who looked about sixty years old. He went ahead and spoke to Anne.

"If you work well, it does not matter if you are a man, a woman, a chimpanzee or a Djungarian Hamster. We count on you. Now come with me.You need to learn the exact times of tyre changing and refueling."
The Principality of Lisander
a sports loving, very highly developed nation.

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Postby Mattijana » Tue Jun 11, 2019 9:43 am

WGPC 17: Why has Dimitrianov Found Form?


By Sara Kovacevic, WGPC Correspondent

Alex Dimitrianov has long been a frustrating driver to watch for Mattijanan fans of the WGPC. On the three occasions when the stars have aligned and he has tasted victory, no-one was able to get close to him. He is capable of producing stunning drives like last weekend in Lintulahti where he salvaged a podium from a hopeless-looking 18th place on the starting grid.

On other occasions he has been a steady source of points for mid-grid teams, anchoring the outfit whilst someone younger and flashier made the headlines. Those performances have seen him hit the lower reaches of the Drivers' Championship top 10, but go no further.

This year however, that looks set to change. The aforementioned second-place finish and a win back at race number 2 in Liventia have catapulted the now 31-year old to 72 points and second place in the championship standings with 5 races still to go. That already beats last year's personal best tally of 61 points that got the Dansk driver to 8th in the final standings for McPahan.

So why has this season gone so spectacularly well compared to the years of mediocrity that have preceded it?

Dimitrianov in the WGPC:
WGPC 13: SinoMotors Racing - 9th - 60 points, 15 races, 4pts/race - 1 win
WGPC 14: MRT - 14th - 34 points, 12 races, 2.83 pts/race
WGPC 15: Fireline - 11th - 37 points, 12 races, 3.08 pts/race - 1 win
WGPC 16: McPahan - 8th - 61 points, 14 races, 4.36 pts/race
WGPC 17: Badai Angin - 2nd - 72 points, 8 races, 9 pts/race - 1 win
Career: 5 teams - 9th* - 264 points, 61 races, 4.33 pts/race - 3 wins

The Car:

Many have cited the Badai Angin car as a key reason for Dimitrianov's success this season. The team currently sit second in the constructors' championship, far higher than any of Dimitrianov's previous teams have managed with the exception of a Jessica Franssen-inspired MRT back in WGPC 14.
Before the beginning of the season, the Filindostani car was seen as outstandingly mid-grid by many experts and the points tally of Dimitrianov's Audioslavian teammate Carsten O'Rourke, admittedly in his rookie WGPC season, has backed that up. The youngster sits 13th in the championship with only 27 points, just over a third of the points that Dimitrianov has scored.

The car however is one that Dimitrianov has clearly got on with. It suits his smooth, consistent driving style and ability to carry speed through slow corners as well as providing a little more oomph down the straights for overtaking than previous cars. So perhaps the good results are more down to the style of the Badai Angin car than its quality. Still, O'Rourke is seen as a driver with a similar technical style to Dimitrianov and he has fared less well, so perhaps the good results are still down to the Mattijanan punching above his car's weight.


Dimitrianov's form has long been an object of analysis by those in Mattijana and the home nations of his 5 different teams. He has earnt his reputation of being a highly consistent driver due to his regular points finishes and upper mid-table championship positions at mid-grid teams. Despite that view, when it comes to establishing wins and podium finishes, he has always secured shock results and then slipped back into the pack.

This year, things seem to have changed. Dimitrianov has established himself as one of the frontrunners and secured a more established run of good finishes.

A number of theories have been put forward for this. One is that he is more comfortable with the car than ever before, something that has certainly been backed up by his interviews this season. Another is that his experience around the many circuits of the WGPC has finally started to count, especially in a field where many drivers are in their rookie or second season.

Either way, Dimitrianov has cut a much more relaxed figure around the paddock this season. His pre-season was a reasonably stress-free one, unlike his first and third seasons and the fact that he was driving for a reasonably new mid-grid team meant that he didn't have to live up to too much expectation, unlike at MRT and McPahan. His sharp start has probably also lifted the pressure. Getting points early on is the perfect way to settle into a long season and prevents a driver from making mistakes as they get desperate for late season points.

From this point of view, his reputation as a steady mid-table driver has played into his hands. If you were to choose one driver to challenge a runaway championship leader with five races to go, amongst a field containing the likes of Franssen, Toralmintii, Lane, Mercer-Daly, Bjarnason and the returning Jai Kardaeri, then Dimitrianov would not be top of your list. No-one expected him to challenge, no-one put pressure on him to challenge, they just dreamed that he might have more than one of those magical days where he is simply unstoppable.


There is a more left-field argument amongst all of this. What if Dimitrianov has actually underacheived for the last 4 years and is now doing what he should have done all along?

The fact that Dimitrianov is a three-time race winner shows he has the skill and the strength, both physical and mental, to do well in the WGPC. The fact he has won only three times perhaps suggests he has not shown this skill and toughness on enough occasions.

That would be a harsh viewpoint. As proven by all but the greatest drivers ever to have graced the world's best circuits, winning even one race is hard enough. Ryker Lane won a season without winning a single race, only tasting glory this season in an otherwise dissapointing year for Nexus. Other than Talvela this year and in WGPC14, even those to have won the championship have typically only won once or twice per season and often in the best car on the grid. Success is difficult to acheive.

The priority for Dimitrianov now is not to focus on what could have been, but on what could still be this season.
The socialist republic of Mattijana:
As if Austria, Slovenia, North-Eastern Europe and Sweden were merged together into some weird stew of a country.
through resilience, we are strong!

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Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Former Citizens of the Nimbus System » Tue Jun 11, 2019 12:15 pm


Abovian Grand Prix
2nd of June; Race Beginning

Okay. In fifth. Jean behind me, so we can support one another. Got to make the most of 2 and 3, outpace anyone who I haven’t caught on the start/finish straight.

Okay. Let’s do this.

Ryker runs his hands across the steering wheel even as he sees the first of the lights above him blink on. Beneath him, Coalescence thrums, the Chase Cutter’s myriad systems humming in anticipation of the coming battle.

I have a fastest lap at this circuit. I’m coming off the back of a near-win. I qualified well in the wet, for Imagination’s sake! Everything is pushing me forward.

Now I just have to bind it all with me.

The last light glows red. Ryker grips the steering wheel with his thumbs, his fingers rising and falling in a single wave before coming to rest; he presses the throttle firmly down, trembling in anticipation of the moment that the PA-AS system registers a lack of that light.

He takes a breath.

So it begins.

From the instant that the lights go out, Imagination’s strands are his to Coalesce. Ryker Lane surges forward, jumping Toralmintii in the first moment and diving to the inside of Digri’s competently-starting McPahan. Cruisin’s better power off the line carries him further forward – but Coalescence is beside him, holding him to the track’s left while Lucifer and Jean slot in behind, the two UHSGV-3s line astern into the first corner.

“Yes!” Ryker lets out a laugh of exultation even as he draws in the Coalescence once more, turning his focus forward towards the Eelandii car of Rustom Ibuna. Smiling, single-minded, energy pumping through him, he wills his Chase Cutter on, gliding through Turn 2, carrying the speed into the long Turn 3, closing, closing, closing all the while until the UHSGV-3’s front wings sit close to the Filindostani’s gearbox. Ryker narrows his eyes; even as Rustom shifts his line away from Turn 3’s first apex to cover the inside, he holds true, blazing cerulean light caressing Vilitan carbon fibre as he draws alongside, the sheer power behind him driving him on! He redoubles his concentration, preserving all of the momentum that he can as they fall past the corner’s second apex, the track flowing like a river.

That ecstatic transcendence, that oh so elusive feeling, begins to mist across his mind.

Into the fourth corner. The UHSGV-1 might have fallen back here. Not so the UHSGV-3; Coalescence’s directional Imagikinetic convertor near slingshots them around the corner’s outer line. Ibuna’s car cannot do the same, the Chase Cutter’s presence denying him the natural outward swing. Still alongside, Ryker calls upon all of his daring from his Cityprix days, all of his experience of WGPC, everything that took him to Season 15’s title and everything that he learned beyond it. He holds the accelerator as far down as he is possibly able.

And, as he and Coalescence leave Turn 5, Rustom Ibuna follows.

Cheers burst forth from Nexus Racing’s garage. Ryker, meanwhile, presses two buttons on his steering wheel. In the moment that it is visible, projected onto his helmet’s visor, he assimilates the view from his rear camera.

“Ready to support Jean whenever, Martin!”

“Understood; I’ll give you word.” His race engineer’s eternally soft voice rings above the rumble of the tyres, the whirl of rotating electromagnets and the rush of the wind; across the bridge they dash, darting through 6, 7, 8, then along the back straight, blasting at full tilt up to Turn 7A. Ryker laughs once more, an expression of pure joy, as he brushes the apex of the kink and then, as he had done so many times in Practice and Qualifying, slows only just enough to slide the car past the tenth corner of 8A.

Imagination, I love those two now!

Okay, up to 9A. Calm.
“Ryker, hold and empower into final turn.”

“Copy!” The press of a button… Actually, I’ve got enough room… Here, Jean, have a bit now! …and the turn of a dial. Round 9A, gentle – and on! Yeah, little slower. Okay, time to repay last week. There’s Ibuna – don’t sweep in, don’t sweep in, don’t sweep in…


The rear wing opens; the front wings recline; the side pylons align themselves to the wind as the Coalescence begins – weak for but a moment, then as mighty as ever. Even as it happens, Ryker watches his rear view; the white/brown car behind is now close, now a touch closer – but an incandescent blue shines behind it, a glow that returns to its normal strength even as the gap between the front Chase Cutter and the VTGP itself normalises – and as it closes it still grows a little brighter – and then Mercer-Daly is upon him, striking past Ibuna’s flank, Lucifer a momentous cerulean inferno, first alongside and then past the Filindostani!

Ryker grins. “Good enough?”

Martin’s voice is melodious. “More than. Now, let’s do what you can do on these tyres.”

Lap 8

Ryker feels the gentle thump of the new tyres as the robotic platform finishes its work, dropping the UHSGV-3 down to set off; its AI kicks in, driving him forward, released into the pit lane proper. The lack of input gives him the time to calm and Martin time to speak.

It’s not good news.

“Unfortunately, Jean has had a problem,” he intones. “We are unsure as of now but believe it to be localised within the front-left motor; he’s currently running on two wheels.”

Ryker winces. “Sorry to hear… Any chance of it happening to me?”

“From what I hear, it seems unlikely.”

“Okay… No strategy changes?”

“None. Watch out for Dimitrianov behind you as you leave, though you should have better pace than him, and do what you can to make your tyres last.”

“Gotcha. Thanks, Martin.” Imagination’s glow reasserts itself as Ryker leaves the pits, swooping down past Turn 1, pushing the accelerator, the Coalescence gathering once again. Okay… Can’t drive hard on these – need to preserve the life. Make up the ground later, Ryker.

Wait a moment oh
Imagination that’s Dimitrianov RIGHT BEHIND ME Martin said he’d be there he meant RIGHT THERE

A push on the accelerator becomes a near stomp, the Coalescence intensifying to all of its strength – and Ryker, for that moment, cannot keep a hold of it, cannot guide it. Into Turn 2 and the back steps away, the Chase Cutter careening around the corner’s apex. In the first half-second, Ryker’s panic rises to a fever pitch.

In the second, it vaporises; determination burns it away. In the third, he spins his wheel rightward, aligning the front wheels and the dynamic Imagikinetic thrust with Coalescence’s direction of travel. Then, past the fourth, he guides it gently back as the corner itself turns, sliding with the minute control of an ice skater on their near-frictionless blades.

That, after all, is what he did for a year in the First City.

Finally, a seeming eternity later, breathing hard and sweat on his brow, Ryker and Coalescence plough forward again. Dimitrianov looks to the outside; then he tucks in.

“Is everything alright, Ryker?”

“Fine, Martin! Don’t worry!”

Okay, focus, Ryker! Just… Focus.

He takes a breath.

On he goes. And so Dimitrianov does not merely pull back – Ryker channels the Audioslavia of two years ago to run lap after constant lap. He conserves the tyres and, more importantly, he conserves himself.

Lap 34

“Okay, Ryker – you have these H-1s to the race’s end. We’re targetting the lead; Ibuna, Toralmintii and Digri will all have to pit again, so you will only need to overtake Tripathi, who is on a one-stop strategy and lapping slowly. Keep the gap to Dimitrianov, Jean and Talvela behind you and you will win this, Ryker; push as hard as you can.”

The Nimban driver nods, twice, letting out a puff of air. “Got it, Martin; thank you!”

Okay. This time. This time!

And, leaving the pit lane for the second time, he drives.

Lap 42

Coalescence sears down the start/finish straight, its fiery light a beacon. Ryker himself remains focussed; the euphoria, glorious and blinding, brushes at the edges of his consciousness, but no more.

He draws to one side and, though Tripathi challenges it, Coalescence is inexorable; Ryker sweeps it back to the other, powering down the straight.

I have the lead again. Now I just need to keep it.

Ryker turns the corner, accelerating away. I can’t know what’s coming. It might turn out like it did in Filindostan; I might have some horrible accident, some mechanical failure – anything. He looks to the road ahead, and he smiles. That’s no reason to stop pushing, though. That’s never a reason!

If I fail, I have the strength to stand again and fight, from myself and from others!

If I fail today, I know that there will be a day that I will not!

And until that day and beyond it, I will not falter once more!

Ryker Lane takes a breath. Then he lets in the euphoria – and he shapes it, letting it fuel him but not letting it become him. He truly thinks and feels.

And he drives.

An End and a Beginning

There is no horrible accident or mechanical failure. Instead, Ryker runs the last laps of the WGPC 17 Abovian Grand Prix in solitude. He passes backmarkers, monitors the gap to Dimitrianov and Terho, speaks with Martin once every so often; there is no last-minute challenge, no daring assault.

Instead, Ryker Lane, twenty-three years old, youngest of a line of champions, driver of a car fuelled by the very substance of his nation, conqueror of the streets of the First City and the tracks of the world and one who fell and rises amongst the latter, first Coalescer of Nexus Racing, he who is empowered by himself and by others and holds that power within, crosses the finish line at Lintulahti International Circuit for the sixty-ninth time seventeen-and-a-half seconds before anyone else does.

In short, he wins the race.

He navigates the next minutes with just as much rapidity as he did the track. He looks to the seats and waves past his DIADEM to a segmented crowd that are undoubtedly more subdued than they would be if Terho had been victorious but seem perhaps a touch more jubilatory than might be expected otherwise. He hears Jean’s voice through his communications and, though he screams so loudly that it nearly deafens him, he cannot help but laugh along with him. One of the marshals waves him over and hands him the Crux and Stars and, after a shouted, somewhat high-pitched, “Thank you!” he holds it aloft, bathed in Coalescence’s Imaginational glow. He enters the pit lane and comes to a rest before the central sign of three, clambering out of his car to stand atop it, bowing his head, raising one hand to his chest and the other, clenched, to the sky.

Then he rushes to his team. Victoria is the first to reach him, pulling him into a joy-filled hug and leaning up to kiss the brow of his navy-blue helmet, to the cheers of all those gathered. Martin, Gertrude and Timothy are the first to join her, practically bowling him over in their haste, and soon the whole team crowds around him, lifting him into the air atop their shoulders. It’s only after a full minute that he offers some fairly weak protests to let him down – right into Terho, whose own embrace is just as elated.

Finally, he’s ushered to the podium, where he climbs to (almost trips over) its highest step. There, he shakes the hand of an Abovian dignitary, whose name he quickly resolves to find out afterwards, and holds aloft a trophy, his face beaming. And, finally, as he stands there, the anthem of the Nexus Wardship of Former Citizens of the Nimbus System begins to play. Below, his team hum, sing, tap along, all adding their swelling harmonies to the piece as is custom.

And, as he hums his own, Ryker stares down at them.

‘Together Unto Possibility’.


Tears prick at the corners of his eyes as, finally, he lets the euphoria wash over him.
Last edited by Former Citizens of the Nimbus System on Wed Oct 21, 2020 8:33 pm, edited 8 times in total.
We are the Nexus Wardship of Former Citizens of the Nimbus System, not just a collection of people; please shorten to the pre-title or use the full name!

Emmet: You might see a mess -
Lord Business: Exactly: a bunch of weird, dorky stuff that ruined my perfectly good stuff!
Emmet: Okay. What I see are people, inspired by each other and by you - people taking what you made and making something new out of it.

The central Nimban cultural ideal summed up in an exchange from The Lego Movie.

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Corrupt Dictatorship

Postby Esmerel » Tue Jun 11, 2019 3:11 pm

Lintulahti International Circuit, Lintulahti, Aboveland
Sunday, June 2, 2019

The race was finally over.

"Oh, gods above," Jean exclaimed as he completed his final lap, one fewer than the winner accomplished, and in fifteenth. "I don't know what happened, but I guess it could be worse."

"You have that right, Jean. Low power mode on the motherboard. Bring in Lucifer."

"Standard procedure, I get that much," said Jean. "Who won it? I actually had a minor HUD error, so I couldn't get that info."

"Oh, you don't know?" asked Max. "Alrighty, then. Drumroll, please..." Jean could hear a drumroll sound effect on the other side of the comm, likely from Max's phone. It ended, and Max spoke.

"I am proud to announce that the victor of this year's Grand Prix of Aboveland is Ryker M.F. Lane."

Jean went silent for several seconds. "You are shitting me. He won it? He really won it?"

"Jean, you don't know me for joking around. HE WON IT."

This would more than suffice for the mediocre season Jean had. His teammate- and at this point, best friend... had finally made it to the top step. "Yes, yes, YES!" he exclaimed. "Patch me through right now." Max did so. "Yes, Ryker, YES! GET IT IN THERE! Thirty four races and it happens. Well fucking done, buddy. You so deserve this!" Jean's glee was evident in every syllable he spoke.

Jean parked Lucifer in the garage area before running to the podium and yelling excitedly at Ryker, along with a strong embrace. It was indeed a day of change for everyone. Though, as he noticed Talvela on the third step of the podium (not with malice) he realized a new question had been... brought up.


Jean's Personal Quarters, Nexus Racing HQ, The Nexus Wardship
Wednesday, June 5, 2019

Was it time for Jean to concede defeat?

The question kept coming up in his mind. Over seventy points back with just five races to go. Disappointing performances. And the admittance that sometimes it just wasn't meant to be. Not yet. There was still time for everything anyways, but would it ultimately be worth it?

Jean decided to get someone else's opinion on the matter. Max. He checked his messages. This was the last one Max had sent to him:

Sorry we couldn't get anything better at Lintulahti. It was incredible for Ryker to get his first win, after 34 races of trying and frustration. But it did nothing to help any title chase on your part, to be harshly honest. Let me know if you have anything to ask or comment. -Max
TUE 04 JUN, 16:30:20

At the very least, his wondering was indeed something to ask or comment about.

I do have a question, I guess. You think... it's best we stopped trying so hard and admit we can't do it this time around? -Jean
WED 05 JUN, 12:15:01

Max, being quick to respond to practically anything, managed to respond, which turned into a virtual conversation.

Jean? The hell got into you? We shouldn't be giving up. There's five races left, and Terho's got a wave of karmic balance coming sooner or later. -Max
WED 05 JUN, 12:16:11

Max. That's not the point. Whether or not Terho will be smitten by the deities above is out of our control and shouldn't at least be relied on. What I'm trying to do is see the forest for the trees. Ryker had his bad year last season. Maybe this time it's our turn. We can't win everything. -Jean
WED 05 JUN, 12:16:58

And no, I'm not quitting. But... well, it's something else. -Jean
WED 05 JUN, 12:17:24

A bit of time passed. Then, response.

I'm listening. -Max
WED 05 JUN, 12:20:06

I want to win a championship as much as everyone else here. But we still have years aplenty to do that. Quite obviously, though, we could still make something good of the rest of this season. And, what I'm thinking, is... we take off the pressure of trying to win a championship for now. Save it for the next year. That, and cease development on this year's car. We save that for the next time too.

No more tension coming up short to a man who frankly deserves the success. It's time we had some FUN out there. -Jean

WED 05 JUN, 12:22:45

It made sense. It was time to finally relax and just let time take its course. Of course, there would still be battles for the win. But Jean would be content with himself. It wasn't every day someone lost two limbs then came back and performed just as admirably.

And Max agreed.

Sounds... good. -Max
WED 05 JUN, 12:25:01

It was time to go. But in a very different manner indeed.
"It is the people's sovereign birthright to live the lives they wish to. It is the state's duty to aid them in their pursuit."
-Chancellor Charles Richmond, 4 January 2020
A modern/future tech crossover nation. Democratic technocracy. Incredibly technologically advanced. Population of 394 million who believe they are the best at everything. Land area of 88,240km squared, or about the size of Serbia, situated not far from Nova Scotia and Newfoundland. Visit today.
Want to know more about Esmerel? Check out the WIP factbook.
WGPC15: 3 Race Wins, Drivers' Top 5, Constructors' Champion
WGPC16: 2 Race Wins, Drivers' Runner Up
Participant in WGPC17, WGP2 seasons 1-3, and NSSCRA season 8

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Vilita and Turori
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Moralistic Democracy

WGPC17 - T4A Nexus Design, Vangazi Qual - Mirrors are so bad

Postby Vilita and Turori » Tue Jun 11, 2019 4:59 pm


Toys '4' All Assembly & Packaging Facility, Lopinka, Vilita :: With the VIP tours concluded the staff at Toys '4' All had gotten back to work. While they didn't have any official feedback from the MRT team regarding the prototype MRT rides they decided to press onward with a more detailed true-to-life decalling on the layout seeing how it would print out. They weren't completely satisfied with one base feature but figured they could fix it later on if the Mattijanans were equally un-pleased with it.

Then there was the matter of the Nexus Racing prototype. The initial tour with Auburn Steel and the Nexus Racing representatives had been conducted and while they didn't ask too many pressing questions, the VIPs seemed to always be looking off in the distance at the assembly lines and some of the other areas of the shop. Now their official feedback had come in. They had some ideas on how to achieve some of their more exotic requests that while the Toys '4' All team hadn't necessarily tried before, they were certainly excited for the chance. Many of it, however, felt more like a research and development branch activity then a standard product development.

While chewing over an array of sandwiches, the Nexus Racing team outlined their vision for the product. The most pressing requirement for them was that the replica most closely mirror the style and shape of the real WGPC 17 model. Of course the Toys '4' All team nodded and acknowledged - it was of course a reasonable request - it would greatly increase the non-recurring cost of the prototype and production run and the costs would not be re-coupable over time in as efficient a manner as unlike the WGPC generic mold that had already been used for the Tropicorp Racing Aelund replicas and was set to be used for the MRT, Eelandii VTGP and Mirrors Racing die-cast, the Nexus Racing mold - if it would be made, would be a one-off design for a one-off production. None of the other vehicles on the tour would use it.

The team listened to some of the other requests while calling in one of the design specialists from upstairs. They also wanted the car to glow. The team was confident they could make it glow - but the question was how to accomplish the effect.

Unfortunately it wasn't until after the Nexus Racing team had left that the Marketing team had an idea. While sales of the Nexus Racing replicas may have a singular appeal - there was still a way to recoup some of the re-molding costs. Multiple versions of the car. Sure they could have the base version. Then for an extra Ture or Two you could get the glow in the dark version - same mold, different layering. Then maybe another Ture on top of that and you could get metallic chrome finish instead of standard matte coloring. The same rule set could even be applied to squeeze extra Tures out of the other Replica lines.

The lead of the newly formed "Racing Collectors" line of die-cast toys and replicas, Ellyn Illinoi, disagreed however. She didn't want her newly created product line to turn into a side show. She didn't want it to become something akin to the strange fad of fashion sports apparel putting a teams logo on a hat or shirt that was made of fabrics consisting of zero of that teams actual official colors. She was about realism. She was about detail.

That's why they put her in charge of the Collectors division. But the marketer reminded Ellyn that while her little product line might have been called "Racing Collectors" - the company name was "Toys '4' All". The marketer then emphasized the "Toys", and then followed it up by emphasizing the "All".

Some people - probably kids - will want to smash the car into a wall, watch flames shoot out the back and have lights that light up. They might not care about the pixel by pixel placement of a sponsors decal. Other people might be collectors who will. Some might want the car to be shiny, some might want it to be flat. Then, the marketer uttered the words that no one in the room wanted to hear. "Maybe we should do some market research?"

The audible groan came over the room. Ellyn was a little upset but not surprised. The points were well taken but she wanted the challenge of having her team design the new prototype regardless of worrying about the costs. The Nexus team had already agreed to a favorable licensing arrangement to help cover the burden of the new tooling and layer application methods that would be required to make a solid product. She decided to let the marketers debate amongst themselves and head back to her desk to see if she could get in touch with Auburn Steel to talk over some of the options.


Drosopol Circuit, Drosopol, Vangaziland :: It was always going to be a difficult weekend for iBen Toralmintii's Race Eelandii! Vilita and Turori World Grand Prix Motorworks team as they headed to the Drosopol Circuit in Vangaziland with a rookie driver and a team that hadn't earned points in what felt like ages. The car wasn't expected to be a podium contender in Vangaziland and the driver situation, while exciting, wasn't expected to help improve those odds.

Not surprisingly it was Vannish Motors Racing who dominated every session from the moment the cars first rolled out of the paddock with Vijay Tripathi topping the charts in Friday's Practice session and the two Vannish Motors Racing drivers posting the two fastest qualifying laps with Jessica Franssen on pole position and Vijay Tripathi not far behind as the Esportivan outfit looked to use their home track to turn their season around with barely enough time to turn the tide in the championship battle. Driver's Standings leader Terho Talvela will have a decent starting position in 6th place able to at least track the Vannish drivers ahead of them as they look to milk their way to a second World Grand Prix drivers title with points finishes in the final five events.

As for iBen Toralmintii and the Eelandii VTGP Motorworks team it will be an uphill battle on race day as Toralmintii only barely outpaced the newcomer Drake Stevenson for 12th place on the grid nearly three-quarters of a second behind the Vannish Motors duo. It was still progress for Stevenson, however, as the Hapilopper driver outpaced his teammate the Filindostan driver Rustom Ibuna as well as one of the circuits hottest drivers Alex Dimitrianov who placed in the row behind Stevenson on the grid. While Stevenson will have a decent number of drivers behind them when the lights go out at the Drosopol Circuit, one driver who will not is R.L. Cruisin. Even the skill of the veteran driver could not overcome the challenges of piloting the purple and white Mirrors Racing machine as the Starblaydi outfit struggled to keep pace in their first season back to the circuits top level in a number of seasons.

The two Mirrors Racing machines will occupy the last row as the sponsors orders to "Drive Slower so we can Read the logo!" seem to have taking precedence over competitive spirit. Its quite possible that Cruisin and teammate Esteban Guilhermez will be nothing more than slow-moving billboards come race day if the team are unable to make great technical advances in the overnight to give their drivers a chance. Other than that, it would be down to strategy or simple attrition if there is going to be any Purple and White near the points in Vangaziland.


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Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Audioslavia » Tue Jun 11, 2019 7:23 pm

for the Vannish Grand Prix at Drosopol Circuit



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