No shit that’s why I’m asking
apologies, been trying to think up ways to open the race that weren’t just “herr herr race open” and that were actually fun to participate in. also suffering massive creative block (both w/ writing and automation) that hopefully seems to be leaving.
also fallen ill once more, as well as multiple family members and friends catching COVID over the last two months or so.
i understand that this is very similar to what happened with I3RL, however i promised that that wouldn’t happen again for this challenge. Going to release a project i’ve been sitting on for a while first, and then try and get the start to the challenge out.
once again, i apologise for any inconveniences this may have caused, and i should hopefully officially start the challenge by next week.
apologies, Void.
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One good advice, take it as a suggestion from someone that failed something similar. Don’t overthink things too much in such a RP-heavy challenge. Leave some of the story-building to the contestants since, as you can already see, many of them have good skills in that. That would ease the strain on you somewhat.
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TEAM HILLBILLY ROLLERS
YET SOME MORE PROLOGUE JUNK, OR SOMETHING
While Janne was trying to fix the hopeless cause with the Schnell, Andreas decided to walk around to see what kind of competition he could expect.
ANDREAS (By CB): (quietly) Well, I have been checking the other teams out…
MARIE: (By CB): (Uncivilised loudness) YOU NEED TO SPEAK LOUDER IN THIS DAMN THING, I CAN’T HEAR A SINGLE WORD OF YOUR GODDAMNED BLABBERING! (OOC info, can probably be heard from far away, if someone wants to do something with that information)
A: WELL TURN UP THE GODDAMNED VOLUME THEN YOUR DRAIN BAMAGED IDIOT!
(waiting silently)
So, can you hear me now?
M: Uhm, yes, but I swear I didn’t touch anything (or just a little knob but still). So, what can we expect when it comes to competition?
A: A Tomodachi that seems kind of seriously built, I would honestly fear that one. They were small but kind of capable. A Hinata that seems to be about as much as a mess as our Saarland. May or may not be a threat. Some retarded leftist green-party voting idiots came here with a Mara Zorya, I bet we will give them a hard time in one way or another if they come close. I know a trick or two… I would at least not fear #15 since that is some french junk that got rejected from the junkyard so I am surprised if it will even start. A late 70s Abraham that I would fear about as much as a Stiga Villa riding lawnmower that has thrown a rod. Some crapmobile that looks like a boat out of Mad Max, either it is pure crap, or the surprise that will blow our doors off. A white Hermes that I would have had rather than our crappy cereal box. Some flat black rape van… An Aim Sparrow that looks slightly more serious than our POS, maybe that should be feared too. Some finns arrived with an old postal van that seems to be some half-serious build. A Seneca City Turbo… and then those LARPers in the Bricksley and the hodge-podged together Schnell, but hey, both teams seems to be nice people so let’s not terrorize them, OK?
M: Well, maybe there is some cars worse than the Saarland then. Ehm…let’s not terrorize? I guess it is too late.
A: What do you mean?
M: Janne already went there.
Janne is walking towards the broken Schnell where they are trying to fab new motor mount hardware to fit the worn out 1969 IP Icarus diesel rubber mounts.
J: So, guys, how are you doing?
@Madrias @interior
(Also @AndiD , my rant is completely IC and not OOC so I hope you aren’t offended by the hard words, Andreas have seen the kind of people that he genuinely hates and revenge is already spinning in his head. I can change if you dislike it too much, but just so you know, it is absolutely nothing personal against you, it is rather Hillbilly Rollers against Eco Awareness)
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(No worries, you caught the vibe perfectly that I want to send with my team. They are probably sitting huddled together too busy discussing Laura’s next blogpost instead of paying attention to their immediate environment…)
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Team Shift Happens
Team Information and Story Start
When Janne from Team Hillbilly Rollers wandered over, before he’d even spoken, Rukari said, “Vuri ada ahd nevuri marin,” without even looking to see who was there.
Malavera shook his head and sighed. “That’s one of his traditional greetings. It means, roughly, ‘Strong wind and calm water.’ Rukari’s people have a strong sailing culture, from what he’s said to me.”
After Janne asked how they were doing, Malavera chuckled. “We’re doing okay, at least,” Malavera said, the now-very-dull aviation snips still in his hand, with a pile of 1/8 inch steel plate pieces sitting nearby. “Going to need to get a new set of these, though. I ruined them.”
“I told this zaruki those not meant to cut thick sheet, he cut thick sheet anyway,” Rukari said, still paying attention to the pieces of steel he was welding together with the oxyacetylene torch.
Malavera looked to Janne and gave a light shrug. “English is, well, definitely not his first language,” he said, handing Rukari another piece of the sheet-metal engine-mount puzzle.
“Still know more than you,” Rukari grumbled. “Can speak Valraad, Therys, Gand, Old Gand, Cruka, Sirpens, ahd Anglass.”
Malavera stared at Rukari, slightly stunned that the Valraadi knew seven languages. “Shit. I guessed that he knew eight,” Malavera said.
“My xelthila, my mother in this tongue, she taught me that knowing what others say when they think you not understand their words, that is important. Were I to become Vilzahir, I would have needed that. As one of the Vyrzadoburi, it was still a useful talent,” Rukari replied.
Malavera smiled. “He’s the son of the Valraadi Empress. He became essentially special forces,” Rukari explained to Janne. “Vyrzadoburi translates out to ‘Violent walkers of death.’ I’ve never asked about his history in battle, but it’s probably impressive.”
Rukari set the welding torch down for a moment, looked Janne in the eyes for a brief moment, the dark orange in his eyes briefly reflecting the sunlight with an otherworldly cat-like glow, just before he said, “I have seen battle, yes. 247 successful missions.”
(Note, Rukari’s way of saying numbers is different, he would say each number in sequence, so “two-four-seven” instead of "two hundred forty seven.)
“What counted as successful, then?” Malavera asked.
“I was not seen, not heard, the target either captured or dead,” Rukari said, before finishing the welds on the engine mount. “You need put in rubber,” Rukari then said, looking to Malavera.
Malavera nodded. “Guess I’m probably the only one here who can,” he said.
Rukari put out the torch and put it back in the holder on the welding cart, rummaged in his pockets for an old, well-worn wood-and-brass pipe and his pipe tobacco, packed the pipe and lit it using the same sparker he used to light the torch earlier. After exhaling a long breath of smoke, Rukari gave a grimace and shrugged off his leather jacket, revealing the dark gray shirt underneath, his shining brass tags, and a bit more of his dark gray fur with black stripes. “Not know how you handle this heat,” Rukari grumbled. “Snow better.”
“He’s from a very cold climate,” Malavera explained. He then turned to Rukari. “Go smoke that somewhere else, the fumes are making me light headed.”
Rukari merely glared at Malavera and blew smoke in his general direction instead. Malavera scowled, scooped up the motor mounts, grabbed the rubber bushings to put inside them, and moved upwind of Rukari’s tobacco smoke.
Kaylie wandered over, leaving Kayden near the Australians as she saw the group standing around near the welding cart. “So, what’s going on?” she asked, stepping so that the sunlight stopped reflecting off of her chrome left arm into Janne’s face. “Sorry,” she said.
Malavera nodded toward Janne, then said to Kaylie, “He’s from the team with the checkered-up Saarland. We’ve got some reindeer jerky and some beers from them in the back of the Bricksley. Rukari welded up these brackets, and I’m trying,” Malavera paused for a brief moment as he popped the rubber engine mount bushing into place, “to put the bushings into them.”
Kaylie nodded, then headed over to the car, returning with three bottles of beer. She handed one to Rukari and one to Malavera, before rummaging in her pockets for a bottle opener.
Rukari stuck the claw of his right thumb under the rim of the cap and popped it off before taking a long drink from the bottle.
Malavera, meanwhile, just twisted off the non-twist-off cap and, like Rukari, let the cap fall to the ground. He took a sip, smiled, and said to Janne, “This is good beer.”
Kaylie scowled as she couldn’t find her bottle opener, extended the titanium claws on her mechanical left hand, and twisted the bottle with her right, cutting through the glass until she was able to pop the cap of the bottle free, complete with the rim of the glass bottle still inside it. “Damned show-offs,” Kaylie grumbled, taking a swig of the beer and tossing her cap to the ground as well.
OOC: @Knugcab Yeah, I know, you said ‘cans’ and I had them opening bottles, but, to be fair, none of them would have done well with cans. It wrote better this way.
Edit: @AndiD if you want to have your team notice the littering of bottle caps, one of which has glass still in it, feel free.
@interior Figured it made sense that Rukari and Malavera would be quick about making brackets. Rukari is, after all, good with a welding torch, and Malavera definitely ruined a set of aviation snips cutting good thick metal to make some brackets.
I can change to bottles as well, does not matter for the story from my point of view.
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Understandable. I just really wanted to have them removing bottle caps with pretty much no effort. It’s just one more little thing that makes them unusual.
(Dialogue-less again, more or less an car update.)
Team Slow
Still part 5, Not more going on right now.
With the bodged together hatchback mechanically fixed besides the torque converter. That can wait anyway until a fatal transmission failure, the mounts from an Icarus thanks to Team Hillbilly Rollers, to avoid the engine thinking it can fly, other than the failed attempt at obtaining a torque converter. Nobody had them.
John started to stare down at the Zorya team, one of which was looking at their phone.
The rest of the team was busy minding their own business. Eventually looking at auto reviews on a phone, waiting until the race is open.
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1 week after the race beginning…
As Martha emerged from her tent after a long, cold night of restless, damp sleep she was practically blinded by the bright sunlight glancing off the slick tarmac and puddles of water. She stretched, and went over to the car, Bugsy, who was also covered in rainwater. Unlocking the boot, she grabbed a can of store-brand baked beans and lit the small camping stove she had brought out from the tent. Pouring the beans into a pot with, she set them down to cook whilst she started to bring her stuff out of the tent and place it back on the car’s roof rack. It had been raining heavily for the past week, forcing the teams to seek shelter in their tents or cars.
Around half an hour later Mikel emerged from the tent, squinting in the harsh sunlight that had been absent. Martha of course, being British, was used to this. He sat in the tent opening, eating the beans Martha had made from a cold, stainless steel bowl. He chewed, thoughtfully, observing the other teams beginning to emerge from their tents or shelters. He wondered if the race would commence today. He presumed so. Previous FAR races had started in much worse conditions than some slightly damp roads. He ate thoughtfully as Martha started to disassemble the tent, complaining that he wasn’t helping at all whilst she struggled to pack the “damn bloody canvas wanker” back into it’s bag. He was instead watching Team Milkvan curiously. During the past week he hadn’t seen them leave their van at all, let alone put up a tent or anything of the sort. He presumed that there were beds or sleeping bags in the back of the van, however there always seemed to be movement inside, no matter the time.
Nonetheless, when Martha hit him round the head with a tent pole to get his attention, he paid no mind to Team Milkvan’s activities, including them hauling the receptionist into the back of the van, and a faint gunshot sounding shortly after. Instead he helped Martha pack the tent and get the car moving. It was around noon when a loudspeaker asked all teams to report to a carpark nearby where the camp ground was for their briefing. With a clutter and roar the mighty 1.2 litre 4 cylinder engine of Bugsy came to life, and along with Team Shift Happens and Team Ecowareness Mikel and Martha set off. The little convoy travelled quickly over the wet, slippery roads of Marena. With Martha behind the wheel, Bugsy roared ahead of the Mara and the Bricksly, with over 100 horsepower he could far outstrip both cars. However, the slippy, scrabbly nature of the car paired with high profile chunky tires led to quite an uncontrollable couple of minutes. However, both Bugsy and the Bricksly arrived mostly in one piece, with the Mara arriving a minute later due to having to stop and pick up some things that they had found on the side of the road.
“Come on Martha, it’ll be fun!” said Mikel, nudging her from her book. “Don’t you think we should get to know these people?”
Martha gave a sort of grunt in response, and continued to read. Mikel sighed and closed the door of the City, walking over to where Team Ecowareness were telling Team Shift Happens all about the dangerous effects that oil could have to the Fruinian landscape. Kaylie appeared to be relatively interested, and was writing down notes whilst listening. The rest seemed bored. Mikel walked up to them and introduced himself, only to be flattened by Spots who appeared to have taken a liking to Mikel. Probably the beans, he told himself, hoping that Spots wasn’t just seeing which part of him would be best to eat first. As he stood up, he heard Bugsy’s engine start up, and turned to see a line of cars behind it, waiting impatiently for it to move. As the other teams filed into the parking lot he took notice of a large white stage sat on one side of the car park. As he was about to tell the other teams the loudspeaker sounded again, and this time a man came out onto the stage, speaking into a microphone.
“Hello and welcome to the 36th annual Fruinia to Archana Rally! (the first was held in 1974) As you may see we have a relatively small turnout this time, but with all the tensions between countries at the moment that is to be expected. But, as we’ve always said, why should that stop us? Well, ladies, gentlemen and extraterrestrials, it shan’t! Take your place on the starting line and wait for my signal- remember, it’s just you out there, so try not to break down. Alright… 3, 2, 1… Go!”
And with that they were off. The drone of engines was deafening, as the weird and wonderful assortment of cars roared away. At first it was smooth sailing, with all the teams travelling in a convoy to get out of Marena. The roads were potholed and rough, the smell of burning oil and petrol filled the air, but by god was it exciting.
It was when the teams started to seperate when things went wrong. Martha and Mikel’s (referred to as M&M by most of the other teams) route was intended to take the scenic route though Fruinia, passing through all of the most beautiful places in the country. However, they had counted on most of the roads being dirt or tarmac, but due to the heavy rainfall most were just mud. Bugsy groaned and protested, wheels spinning hopelessly in the sticky, waterlogged mud. Eventually however, Turbolag made it out of the trail, and back on the main road to Vontro (a small village with very rich history that Martha wanted to visit.)
(yes, this means that the race is now open. Apologies for any delay.)
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So…any numbers to go by that tells us what is actually happening in the race for us other participants on the way?
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So it seems that, in addition to kidnapping 2 people, my team’s shot a 3rd. Oh dear.
Also,
my entire team upon hearing this:
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Sign me up that it’s open!!
I apologise for the half assed message. I was rushing before a wreckfest race started.
Team Shift Happens
Team Information and Story Start
Pre-Race Prologue: Hotel Hackery, Armed and Dangerous / Checking In, A Little Recon, Making a Big Deal for some Beer, Trade Relations, A Fine Trade for the Good Stuff, Fire, Steel, and Beer.
The last week had been brutal, chucking it down with rain just about every minute of the day. Rukari was, perhaps, the only one in Team Shift Happens who didn’t mind this, as the rain made the weather just a touch cooler, though still far hotter than the frigid arctic conditions the Valraadi was used to back home. Kaylie and Kayden much preferred it when it wasn’t raining, despite actually liking water, because the heat and the humidity was unpleasant. Malavera was miserable and very much disliked the rain as it drenched the teams’ tents, made any work on the car miserable, and barely managed to drop the temperature despite the outright soaking the world was taking.
It was then that the team woke to a sunrise, harsh light gleaming off of the remains of last night’s torrential downpour, and crawled out of their tents to make some breakfast. Malavera hauled one of the propane cylinders out of the back of the Bricksley, connected the gas line to the old trunk-mounted Karbonizer two-burner gas grill, and set about making sausages, bacon, and even a bit of toast for sandwiches. Kaylie and Kayden handled packing away the tents, while Rukari settled off to one side, smoking his pipe and meditating until breakfast was ready.
Luckily, they’d had enough time to go get the gas bottles refilled for their welding cart, and Kayden had helped Rukari put the cart back up onto the roof. Likewise, the team had refilled two propane cylinders after helping cook for the camp for the last week. In that time, it had been Rukari who surprised everyone in Team Shift Happens, and likely a few other teams, when he managed to take several mundane items and make some actually quite decent meals out of them. Rukari had said, “In the Grundzahiri, we all must do our share. Someone in camp must cook, others fix armor, others sharpen blades, it is all a warrior’s duty. In the Vyrzadoburi, I learned to do this for myself.”
Today, however, breakfast was different. It was as if something had changed in the air, like an electric current humming beneath everyone’s feet. Today, people were getting excited. Rumors had been flying for the last week about when the actual race would start, there had been speculation about the reasons why there was a delay, and even a rumor about a betting pool on whether or not they’d hear an official excuse from the people hosting the event.
When the call came through a screeching loud old speaker, asking everyone to report to a car park, however, that electric hum snapped into frenetic, wild energy. Like a LeMans start, teams scrambled for their cars, engines rasped, wheezed, and rattled into life, tires screeched and chirped to varying degrees, gearboxes crunched into gears as drivers, both well-experienced and complete novices alike, tried to be the first to the car park.
Kaylie got to the car first, remembering at the last possible second to open the door with her right hand so she wouldn’t rip the door off of the hinges, settling into the rear driver’s side seat. Kayden shoved Spots up into the middle of the rear bench before hurrying to get in as well, slamming the rear passenger side door just as Malavera got into the front passenger seat. Another door slammed as Malavera grabbed the handle and pulled, forgetting his strength for a moment as the Bricksley’s door crashed shut with more noise than a bank vault. Rukari emptied out and put away his pipe, blew smoke into the air, and then sprinted for the car, swinging the door open and leaping into the seat, making the suspension wobble ominously. Rukari had his door closed, key in the ignition, and was busy trying to get the Bricksley to start, and when it did, his lack of mechanical sympathy cried out through the exhaust system as the red, white, blue, and plastic American sedan went straight to the rev limiter.
First gear was selected, the clutch was dumped, and with the rear diff unlocked, the Bricksley did a mighty one-wheel-peel across the campground. On the way out of the campground, Rukari redlined first gear, roughly double-clutched into second, and only after winding that gear out to the moon and back, selected third. They were part of a little convoy with Team Turbolag and Team Ecowareness close by, and the other teams not that far behind to the driver’s meeting. While Team Turbolag’s car was, perhaps, faster on dry pavement, Rukari’s skill behind the wheel let him keep pace despite the terrible road conditions. Tires wailed, engines screamed, the smell of hot engines and partially-unburned fuel filled the air.
“Rukari, what’s the engine temperature?” Kaylie asked.
“Two-two-five degrees,” Rukari replied.
“There’s a fourth gear, use it!” Malavera snapped.
Rukari chose fourth gear as team Ecowareness pulled off to the side of the road to pick up a big pile of trash. Malavera looked at the pile and shook his heads. “Don’t know whether that was there to start with, or whether one of these teams decided to toss that,” he said, grumbling the whole time.
Not long after, everyone screeched into the car park for the driver’s meeting. Engines were shut down, the clinks and pings and clanks of thermal expansion and contraction started to ring out at random, and the teams clustered up for one last potential round of chatter.
It was there that Laura of team Ecowareness decided to show Kayden, Kaylie, Malavera, and Rukari her latest blog post. Kayden was bored in seconds, Rukari kept looking back to the Bricksley as if hoping someone would give him a reason to leave, and Malavera was just plain uncomfortable in public. Kaylie, on the other hand, took to Laura like the social butterfly she was, flipped open a cover on the inside of her mechanical left arm, and pulled out a somewhat chunky tube. She pulled a tab on it and a screen unfurled from inside, and she checked the same blog post, just re-formatted for her native writing style (Left to right, but from bottom to top).
“Yeah, I can see that’s quite bad. This is why you people need to really focus on nuclear fusion,” Kaylie said. “Clean, powerful, efficient, relatively safe. That, plus high-capacity super-capacitors, and you could replace all of these fuel-burning cars with electric cars that aren’t terrible for the environment. As for what we can do now…” Kaylie added, before grabbing Malavera’s left hand and pulling him front-and-center, “Malavera here is, well, he’s a hacker.”
Malavera groaned, rolled both sets of eyes, and said, “You do know, Kaylie, not everyone appreciates that talent. Plus, sure, I could possibly shut down their facility with some clever code, but we don’t need that kind of trouble right now. But, if it makes you feel any better, fine, I’ll do something.” He hefted his 20 pound, camouflage-painted military laptop, balanced it on his left arm as if it were a 2 pound sub-notebook, checked out the Polyfuel company briefly, and within seconds, gave a malicious grin. “Now, that’s really quite stupid,” Malavera said. “They have their pipeline pump control computers on their network, not air-gapped. And some idiot has ‘admin1234’ as their password, written on a sticky note in full view of a security camera. How much justice, Laura, do you want?” (@AndiD )
When Mikel approached them a few minutes later, however, Spots was the first to notice, pouncing and knocking Mikel to the ground and licking his face quite enthusiastically. Rukari grabbed Spots’ collar and pulled the 170 pound leopard off of the man, then with the same lack of effort, pulled Mikel to his feet. Before Rukari could say anything, however, Martha had to move team Turbolag’s car out of the way to let more cars in as it was parked awkwardly close to the entrance.
Then the announcer spoke up, mentioned the relatively small number of contestants, the tensions between countries, and told them all to get ready. People got back into their cars, engines roared to life again, and this time, shit happened to team Shift Happens as Malavera got into the wrong seat of the Bricksley.
“Aw, fuck!” Malavera swore, realizing he was in the driver’s seat and Rukari, adapting to the plan, sat in the passenger seat instead. “Great. How the fuck am I supposed to drive this shit-box?” Malavera said, looking over to Rukari.
“Clutch to floor, turn key until engine starts. Foot on brake, release stop stick,” Rukari said, pointing to the parking brake handle, “shift-stick toward you ahd forward, use side of foot to push loud pedal, release clutch ahd brake, car goes. Might stall time or two, but nekasi, just start engine again.”
Malavera scowled, started the engine, placed a heavy foot on the brake pedal which creaked ominously, dropped the parking brake handle, selected first gear, revved the ever-loving piss out of the turbocharged and carbureted inline four, and dumped both the brakes and the clutch at about the same time. The Bricksley scampered forward like a kicked puppy, wailing one rear tire as if in pain the whole way across the parking lot while the engine bellowed as if it were twice as big and four times as powerful as it actually was.
On the way out of the parking lot, Malavera clicked the switch on the PA system and plugged the microphone input into their stereo output. Soon, AC/DC’s “Shoot to Thrill” started blaring out of the roof-mounted loudspeaker, drowning out the screaming Bricksley 1.2 liter engine, at least inside the cabin of the sedan.
(OOC: Translations first. Ahd literally is just ‘And’ in Valraad. Nekasi literally translates to “no work” and is used, most often, like we use “No Problem”, but it can also be used, like in this situation, to say “not a problem.” Grundzahiri is a literal translation to Ground-warriors, or equivalent to the Army. Vyrzadoburi literally translates to either “Violent Walkers of Death” in plural form, or “Violent Death Walking” in the singular form. (To make a word plural in Valraad, add an ‘i’ to the end. Some words will have one ‘i’ already, so they end up with two. However, the suffix ‘ri’ is equivalent to ‘ing’ in English while the suffix ‘r’ is “to be or to do” Easiest to understand with a different word. Kasi means “work” and so a kasir is a worker, while kasiri means ‘working.’ Yes, I have quite a bit of their language created. A bit more and I could, in theory, hold conversations in it.)
As for the tag, @AndiD , I figured that it’s something Malavera would offer if Kaylie’s being obnoxious and ‘volunteering’ his services. Malavera’s somewhat like the typical Hollywood movie hacker, he’s lucky and manages to do a lot in very little time (mostly because I couldn’t hack my way out of a wet paper bag, so I don’t have any knowledge to back the subject up). As for why he’s so good, well… He’s by our standards, not just old, but ancient.
Malavera is comfortable with computers, and as Laura seems to be the one most interested in saving the planet, he’d give her the uncomfortable choice: Say yes, and she’s (indirectly) responsible for an oil company creating pollution on a massive scale having a major security flaw exploited and an expensive shutdown. Say no, and she keeps her hands clean, but loses out on getting justice for Mother Earth.
Also, apologies for the insane length. This got away from me in a hurry.
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So was there supposed to be a condition roll for our cars then?
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So, what are the rules, when’s the deadline, what should we be doing?
Why not make a new thread for every new chapter/round?
The deadline for this challenge was 3 weeks ago… did you post in the wrong thread by chance?
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No, I just don’t get why it was made continuous, in one thread.
It’s much easier when there’s a new thread for each chapter/round.
This challenge doesn’t have more than one chapter/round, I don’t think. It’s a single, self-contained challenge, so splitting it up into different threads would be clunky and hard to follow.
(are you sure you didn’t mean to post this in, like, AGC, or CSC or something? It sounds like you’re talking about that format…)
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