I see, I shall make the appropriate edits to fix my errors.
2 Likes
Also, I was simply paraphrasing what you had Kayden say in what you wrote. From Owen’s perspective that is.
2 Likes
No problem. I didn’t have a problem with what you did, actually, so I’m sorry if it felt like I was calling you out, because I wasn’t.
I figured I had to mention it at some point, and while I should have made a double-post, there’s a part of my mind that keeps telling me not to double-post, even when it may have been more appropriate.
Yeah, I guess it helps to let people know to ask before they do anything. Also, the updated version of the Magistrate is heading your way.
2 Likes
its more than a week from my last update, gonna quickly finish this soon, and it will be short since i don’t really have the ideas to update the story
also, no changes from my team structure other than an updated car
@Knugcab Nope, as the team only has prepared enough batteries for use by their own team.
So, this is the news. On yesterday a stroke of unknown light has shone through the deserts near Vegas…rumors says that there are some people coming out of the portal which looked like two girls…
PROLOGUE
On the next day the trio went to a garage on an undisclosed location, which Carol has prepared some items for the race by purchasing items from a nearby shop.
Meanwhile, the other two girls are still fascinated about the things about the current age. Maria was looking at a smart speaker and tried to plug her iPod in but failed.
*M: “Whoa, is that some sort of a speaker? Why it looks weird? It’s…”
takes out iPod and wires
M: “Not working. Hope that Alexa (one of Maria’s friends) will not…”
Alexa: “How can I help you?”
M: “The fuck!?”
By the time Maria was fidding with the device, Carol came back from outside, while holding the keys for the Claussient.
C: “Lucia, Maria, Come outside.”
Both Maria and Lucia came outside and saw the car, which is now modifed with a roofrack. Carol also mentioned that the car is not really touched as she feared that spare parts for this car are non-existant on such vehicles, although she did inform them that the vehicle is pretty reliable.
With that done, the girls then started preparing for the race, which would happen in March 4th.
Fallen Angels of the Past
3 Likes
TEAM HILLBILLY ROLLERS
PART 0.6 - Can I play Tetris?
Janne heard someone shouting for him from the silver Schnell. Appearantly Team Slow had some, albeit marginally, better batteries than the ones Marie had put into her VCR remote. He presented himself as Janne from team Hillbilly Rollers, grabbed the batteries one of the team members gave him and told them that if they had troubles with something, they could just ask him for a favour in return.
He spotted a red EAAC Aphrodite Ishtar, which he was drooling a bit over, before he pushed the buttons on what once upon a time was a VCR remote in the right “Stop, record, eject” sequence, which silenced the horn of the IFAZ and shut down the hazard flashers on the Claussient. Shortly afterwards, the Game boy played a beeping sound and he unplugged something that once upon a time was the Ms. Pacman cartridge (but now was connected somehow to a backpack by something that was looking suspiciously alike something that once upon a time was a taillight harness from a Volvo 240) from the console, took off his hard hat and backpack, managed to scratch the paintjob on the van with the aerial without giving a damn, and put all the equipment in the back of the van.
Some other cars had arrived. One of them was a Kontir Cunningham and… oh please, no! It looked like if Marie already was getting in trouble with the team members, why was he everything but surprised? Since it looked like if Andreas was already there taking care of stuff, he didn’t care too much at the moment, though. Another one was a Mara Kanyon, which didn’t surprise him at all. “There is no shitbox race without a Mara”, he thought, and hoped that the car would hold up better than Marie’s archanan batteries had done. He didn’t have the time to think, before he had to jump to the side for a Dunav 3300 that seemed to enter the campsite at about Mach 2.
“HEY, WATCH OUT, HOW THE FUCK ARE YOU DRIVING?”, he was shouting to them, without too much hope that they would hear at all. After it came something that looked like if you had put wheels under Pacman, he didn’t have time to look too much at that, because he thought that it would be about time to check out what Marie was arguing with Team Mravolinski - Chitco about, but it seemed like they had settled their argument already. Janne presented himself to the team members and apologized for Marie’s behaviour. “Ehm…she is not the most…civilized, human being, or whatever she is…”
M: “HEY! I heard you.”
J: “I know and I don’t care!”
After some small chatting with Andreas, Marie and the members of Team Mravolinski - Chitco, Andreas had some ideas that Janne didn’t like very much.
A: “You know that teleporter stuff you made with that bunch of crappy electronics…”
M: “DON’T CALL MY VCR REMOTE CRAP!”
J: "Eh, I put it down 15 minutes ago, of course I remember it…
M: “Can I play Tetris?”
J: “NO!”
A: “It seems like it can disturb the other cars quite easily! Can we use it as a weap…”
J: "Forget it! To start with, this is not Deathrace 2000, we are here to have fun and so should the other teams too, we should not be assholes to them. Besides, all the interference problems are just bugs, I don’t know how they work and I would rather just get rid of them, they should not be there. We could as well fry our own ECU with it, and then we would be stuck in the middle of the desert.
M: “Please, can I play Tetris?”
J, A: “S - I - G - H !!!”
3 Likes
2006 HAKARU CARICA SE 4WD EMBARKS ON CROSS CONTINENTAL RALLY
03/03/22, 10:23 AM
NV, USA (JDM Specialist Garage "AsianImports")
With the car checked over, Team Gearknobs was ready to move to the most difficult stage of the day - Shopping for their items.
NV, USA (JDM Specialist Garage "AsianImports")
After pre-shipping inspections, checks and a list of other items and requirements filled out, the car was relocated to a Japanese Import vehicle specialist in Nevada by air. However, due to the 25 year rule in the United States for importation of registered cars, the garage was not equipped to deal with the CZ62F Carica, and could only offer a thorough check of the vehicle before the event.
With the car checked over, Team Gearknobs was ready to move to the most difficult stage of the day - Shopping for their items.
Shortly after almost knocking over an entire stack of liquidation motor oil and getting utterly confused by the checkout system at a nearby location, the team was now finally ready, and began to plan what to do in case of emergencies. After Ed checked over the oil cap to check for milky residue and declared it A-OK, the team left for the campsite later in the day.
5 Likes
The Witchlight
Ambay was leaning on the Aphrodite, taking a whetstone to the head of his Great Axe. He was keeping an eye out, watching all these interesting people mill around the camp. The Desert was good, friendly to his kind. There were many like Elist, though untainted. He did not enjoy this company.
“Finne. What are these machines?” Ambay called to Finne, far louder than he really should have, “I know nothing, and am curious.” The dwarf gave a very loud, and obvious sigh of irritation, before rounding the car.
“Well,” he pointed towards Team Gearknobs, “That one is a car,” he pointed towards Team Slow, “That’s also a car,” finally he pointed towards Team Oil Crisis, “and that one is also a car. We both come from the same place, we don’t know shit.” Ambay gave a sideways glare at Finne, before sliding his Great Axe into the holster on the back.
“I am going to find someone to talk to, find about their vehicles.” Without allowing Finne a chance to speak, Ambay wandered off towards the other side of the camp.
Kira, in her Human form, exited one of the three tents they had set up, sliding her Kimono-ish shirt on. The sun hadn’t been kind to her fox form, overheating and whatnot, so she made the conscious choice to be in her human form. I wonder if we’re gonna get much attention she thought to herself, before noticing that Ambay had wandered off. A brief moment of panic ran through her head, but decided against her better judgement to spend precious time looking for him.
“Hey, Kira…” Finne had wandered over, and dropped himself in the seat next to her, “Might be a good idea to introduce ourselves to some other teams, aye? Or at least try and get in ahead of Ambay on most of the teams” He chuckled to himself, grabbing one of his daggers.
“You worried about how everyone else is gonna think about us?” Kira chimed, noticing Finne’s disposition.
“Maybe. Ambay is a seven and a half foot tall Lizard, Elist looks like a fucking Demon, I’m far shorter than any of these people, and You’re a damn fox! We’re either gonna be the most interesting team, or the one everyone avoids. I guess it depends if any of them… read… fantasy? Or know, like, Myths.”
“I’m hoping no one is from… What’s this worlds version of Tian Xia… Japan, that’s it. I had a look on your phone, it seems like my kind in their myth are very… hit or miss.” Kira chuckles, then blushes as she thinks of all the… art she saw. Daikitsu would not approve
Hi, Small RP ooc note: Anyone can really interact with my team as openly as they want to, just be sure to follow the “suggestions” in the original team post, or just DM me if you are worried 
3 Likes
Team Shift Happens
Previous Chapters:
The Plan / Getting the Truck / The Email
A Trick and a Wager / I Hate Scorpions!
Let’s Get This Party Started / First Arrivals
Shitbox Rally Starting Party, 7 AM Local Time
Things were starting to get interesting as everyone had a chance to interact. Kayden had made a lot of burgers in the last hour, not that he minded, and was now watching over the campsite while eating a burger, taking a break from cooking for a while. It was while he was chewing a bite of his triple burger that he spotted Ambay of Team Witchlight wandering toward the middle of the camp.
Rukari smiled as Andreas repaid him for the bottle of moonshine with a few packages of snus. He emptied out the ashes in his pipe, which had gone out a while ago, put the pipe away, and opened one of the cans, putting a portion tucked into his upper lip, close to his double-set of canine teeth. “Thank you,” Rukari said to Andreas, setting the cans near his murdaira for now as he finished whittling the cork ball. With that done, he set it aside near the rifle-cannon, picked the cans back up, and tucked them away into a pouch on his belt. He’d share this with the others later, but for now, he just wanted to relax.
Kaylie glared in Janne’s direction as he set off the horn on the Bogatir, and then nearly blinded her as the lights started flashing on the Claussient and caused her left arm to give a really nasty twitch. When he tried ‘stop, record, and eject’ to no further effect, she growled loudly at him. Before she could decide whether he was doing this on purpose or whether things were just not working properly, Janne asked everyone if they had any AAA batteries. “Rukari!” Kaylie yelled, “What batteries does your cassette player use?”
“Two double-A battery,” Rukari replied.
Luckily, Team Slow came to Janne’s rescue with a pair of somewhat old, well-used AAA batteries, and afterward, his mysterious device was no longer creating a problem, as the horn stopped blaring, the lights stopped flashing, and Kaylie didn’t have any further interference with her arm. She stared at Janne, pointed to him with her chrome left hand, and said, “If you even think of weaponizing that, I swear by the Twin Suns of my homeworld, I will punch you. Left handed. Square in the chest.”
When Chicota of Team Mravolinski-Chitco asked Rukari if he could get a bottle of moonshine, Rukari shook his head. “Neyi. Takes much time to make, and is much needed for our team. Vikasi sehaal. Make a trade, maybe then we give bottle of Neihzmarin vo Jailehn.”
Kivenaal watched all of the teams from a bit of a distance. He knew he should be more social, but at the same time, worried about how he’d be received given his physical differences. In a way, he was tempted to go talk with the people of Team Witchlight as Elist had horns on their head, so there was at least some common ground, but while he didn’t know the deity, he could tell Kira’s robes were a little special, and that made him more than a little nervous. He was already running from his past, had seen the death of his world, had been captured by his own people because of what his physical form represented. He didn’t need someone else telling him to embrace his heritage, that because he looked like one of the Valraadi deities, he should embrace it and let it become part of him. Likewise, he was avoiding Charlotte of Team Blazers, as he had a general sense that there was more to her than she was letting on. It was a gut feeling, but he’d learned in the Last War to trust his gut, to trust his instincts. So, for now, he would observe those two teams from a distance, until someone from them interacted directly with him. He pulled the brown paper bag of oven-roasted honey-glazed scorpions out of his messenger bag, reached into the bag, and popped one in his mouth.
Malavera could almost feel Ambay staring at him. He’d been staring at him for almost five minutes now. With a sigh, Malavera reflexively hit the screen lock shortcut on his laptop’s keyboard, then turned around and asked, “Can I help you with something?”
“What are these machines?” Ambay asked.
Malavera, for a few moments, stared at Ambay with both heads wearing a puzzled expression. Then he shook himself out of it, realized that a while ago, he was the same way, and replied, “New here, too? These are what the humans call ‘cars,’ though some of them can be put in different classes. Generally, if it has a large open box at the back, like ours, it’s a truck. If it’s a large closed box, it’s either a wagon or a sport-utility-vehicle. That last one, we call it an SUV because it’s shorter. That,” Malavera said, pointing to the atomic-pink brick, “is a van. Not all of them are like that, but generally, they’re meant to carry cargo, not people, and even when they have seats, they’re not the most comfortable thing to ride in. As for how they work, these are carriages that pull themselves,” Malavera said.
“By magic?” Ambay inquired.
“Not really. I mean, there’s a saying that any sufficiently advanced technology can look like magic, but no, these don’t use magic to move. These are powered by an engine, which turns a set of gears, that turn the wheels. An engine is, to put it as simply as I can, a number of chambers to contain explosions that then push a piston that turns a crank,” Malavera explained.
When Ambay wandered off, Malavera sat back down at the table, opened up his laptop, logged back into his user session, and continued updating the Shitbox Rally social media page.
(OOC: Obligatory translations: Neyi = No. Neihzmarin vo Jailehn = Unfreezing water of moonlight, which is just a fancy way of saying moonshine.)
(Also OOC: @Knugcab Hope you don’t mind that I made your remote also irritate Kaylie with her robotic arm. She’ll calm down once she realizes that the teleportation device wasn’t deliberately weaponized and won’t be used in that way.)
4 Likes
Nah, I think that it was a kind of nice way of spicing up the story tbh.
2 Likes
Team Mravolinski-Chitco
Team data: 2022 Shitbox Rally - Out of This World! - #30 by MrdjaNikolen
Last part: This post is literally reply to it
Fiddling with the car and getting the radio
Our team had decided rather smartly to get back to the car and prob prepare ourselves even better.
I decided that being in desert is perfect time and place to notify more adept mechanics about my desire to keep my phone charged, which wasnt really accepted all too well.
Still, having nothing else to do and being dealt with the challenge, they decided to make a separate way from alternator so i could use my charger.
Possibility of making direct line from it to phone would prob require making or having spare USB plug around, so that was rejected as option.
Klimentol got to work on some solution for that, trying to do it with limited amount of wire.
Oh, we also forgot to pack something more meaningful as way of communication, and since we heard its possible to borrow some CB radio, that should have been done as well.
Pi and myself would encounter very unpleasant surprize in shape and form of some typical baddie that we usually encounter elsewhere.
Good thing this idiot had brought knife and hammer into fistfight, so Pi and myself were able to deal with him.
This was kinda nasty and it seems that our team would indeed have something to repair: Pi got hurt, getting most of what our opponent had to deliver, was still capable of trundling along tho.
We had also met Ambay.
“You are also here for rally?”
Question was met with serious stare.
“Yes. Why?”
“Hmm, seems we are yet to meet everyone involved. We just had a fight with that lad currently being chased to rest of desert by that dog (Aydar decided to react and he was “dog” in this case). Wanted to make sure we arent gonna drop in such issue again.”
“I see.”
I realized this huge individual isnt particularly talkative so we left him be, continuing for radio.
Malavera therefore got a visit not soon after.
"Sorry to interrupt, Malavera, but we realized we might need CB radio.
Pi decided to join me on way to here.
=======================================
“Hmm, how we could pay for moonshine?”
Klimentol noted: “Very simple. You offer them something you have or know how to do that they dont have or know how to do.”
Chicota: “That much is clear. But what would go in that category?”
“Well, after some more time spent with them, we might know that answer. Until then…you have lot of beer for reason.”
VerBanka noted: “How is it going with that adapter?”
Klimentol answered with ironic smile: “You oldtimers could have really asked at less convenient time.”
“Better now than never. I see our good boy had returned from his walk”
Klimentol (looked upwards to see Aydar returning): “Dont you know such big dogs are dangerous, you should have kept him on leash.”
Aydar chuckled on remark of another dog of team.
“VerBanka, do you hear him? You…walking ME…on a leash?
Wouldnt make a single difference from bystander’s perspective.”
VerBanka: “True. Lot of other teams have big invididuals anyway.”
“Gentlemen, we have CB radio now. More precisely, we rented it from hosts.”
Aydar: You are ok?
Indeed, Pi got most of attacks. Tbf…she kinda dealt more damage too.
Aydar: Will take care of that. You two are free to explore the camp, maybe could bring buckethead with you.
Chicota: Hey
I could be needed here
Aydar: Fair.
Both humans had plans to rest for a little bit tho and maybe greet some members of other teams that would come by and say hello
3 Likes
The First Campsite, Nevada, USA
March 4th, 2022
Unknown, Nevada
Local time: 7:00am - 7:10am
Weather: Clear
The team had spent most of the latter hour talking to the other participants and learning about their car choices, Owen had come over and asked the guys if they wanted a burger since one of the hosts had some in progress, on the grill. Aidan wasn’t massively hungry while on the other hand, Max and Pavel were. Karl was busy familiarising himself and Gunther with Klimentol, one of the members of Mravolinski-Chitco, who was also a dog*.
While Karl and Gunther were conversing with Klimentol, the rest of the team went back to the car.
Owen looked around before he began his question, the Irish accent no longer in his voice.
“AIdan? When do you think is a good time to reveal ourselves?”*
Aidan turned around to face him. “Did you tell the hosts yet?”
“Sure did.” said Owen, nodding. “I’m certain they are itching to see what we truly are.”
Walking around to the back of the car, Aidan sighed nervously. “Remember, This is the first time we’ve revealed ourselves in public so don’t make a huge fuss.”
“Understood.”
“Make sure you get the—” Owen was cut off by the blaring train horn like sound of the Bogatir parked nearby. “What the hell? How’s that happened?”
“It might be mister robot over there with his antenna.” Said Aidan pointing to the man he was told was Janne.
Shortly afterward, Janne pressed a few buttons on the remote in his hand and the horn shut off. Both Owen and Aidan then heard Kaylie threaten Janne.
“I’m not sure he’s even thinking about weaponizing it at all.” Aidan called to her still keeping the Irish accent.
Kaylie turned around with a scowl on her face, stared at them for a moment, before she smiled and then picked up her Carburettors for Dummies handbook which she began reading.
Owen turned to look at Aidan with concern. “Is now a good time?”
“Don’t worry about it, I’ll go grab the wrenches from the trunk. You go get Karl to come over here.”
Owen made haste to walk over to Karl. He whispered without the Irish accent in his voice.
“We are proceeding with the plan.”
“Now?” Karl’s voice no longer had any hint of German.
“Yes, now.”
“Ok,” The German accent came back. “Gunther, you wait here. I’ll be back.”
The two returned to the station wagon and went round the back. Aidan, Max and Pavel were waiting for them.
“You ready?” Aidan asked with the unknown accent.
Max nodded. Same accent as Aidan. “Yeah.”
Pavel’s gruff voice remained the same but the heavy Russian accent disappeared from his voice too. Owen’s voice and Karl’s voice also had the same accent as the other team mates. Aidan removed the blanket covering the wrenches that had been waiting patiently, and there they were. Five large wrench-like weapons sat there in the trunk, each bespoke to its respective team member, although each shared a similar design. These were their Omni-Wrenches*, a weapon that skilled warriors like them wielded in battle and seen as a sign of respect in their old society. The tall, narrow, double sided, gold and platinum plated “wrench” belonged to Pavel. The average sized one and the most rugged looking one belonged to Owen. Max’s “wrench” was the most elegant with the hard angles being replaced by softer more flowing corners. Karl had the most normal looking one and Aidan since he was the highest ranking out of all of them had the black and silver, combat focused one of the group. While Aidan’s wrench could be considered the best one of the five, each of the Omni Wrenches were the best in their own regard.
Aidan sighed and then exchanged glances with his team mates before shut the trunk of the Magistrate.
*OOC note: I strongly advise you look up what and Omni-Wrench is as it’ll help you imagine what the ones my team have look like. (PS I’m writing this at like 1 am so if the grammar is off that is why. Also, why I’m dividing it into two parts)
5 Likes
A polite reminder: Two days remain for entering before the deadline!
If I don’t have team information and a car by the end of the day, March 25, you are not in the rally, so please, get your teams filled out and cars sent in.
3 Likes
Team Shift Happens
Previous Chapters:
The Plan / Getting the Truck / The Email
A Trick and a Wager / I Hate Scorpions!
Let’s Get This Party Started / First Arrivals - Starting Party 6 AM
Making Friends? - Starting Party 7 AM
Shitbox Rally Starting Party, 7:30 AM Local Time
Kaylie looked over as she heard a bit of a mild ruckus from over by Team Oil Crisis’ large station wagon, seeing the five men standing around holding what appeared to be ornate wrenches of some sort. With a smile, she grabbed her large adjustable wrench from her hip pouch, hooking the ring finger of her chrome plated left hand through the hole on the end of the wrench, spinning it around her finger and catching it in her left hand in an honorary mechanic’s salute. She had a vague understanding of their wrenches, made for combat as well as being a tool, but she’d never seen one up close, let alone five, as they belonged to a long lost, perhaps forgotten race. She spun her wrench around in her hand again, tossed it skyward and caught it, then put it back in her hip-worn tool pouch, easily accessible should she have a need for it.
Kivenaal grimaced as he realized he’d finished his bag of scorpions, wadding up the empty paper bag and tossing it into the campfire before walking toward the Bricksley. He flipped up the cover on the toolbox and smiled as he checked over their not-so-basic supplies. Malavera had a large railgun in there, Kivenaal’s double-barrel shotgun rested in there as well, right alongside the box he’d labeled, “Kiva’s dirty magazines.” Really, that box contained his four MP5-K submachine guns and 3 magazines for each, but was mislabeled to hopefully reduce curiosity. Likewise, Malavera’s lunchbox was in there, which contained various different license plates for various different countries, as well as Rukari’s leather bag of black powder. He closed the toolbox, glad to see that their supplies were still where they’d put them earlier.
At the same time, Rukari wandered over to the Bricksley with his rifle-cannon slung over his shoulder, opened one of the back doors, and reached under the rear bench seat to retrieve a bottle of rum, a small fire-side kettle, and a few coffee mugs. He then looked up, saw Kivenaal was there, and smiled. “A gift from Andreas,” Rukari said, handing Kivenaal one of the cans of snus.
“Ah, smokeless tobacco,” Kivenaal said, opening the can and putting a small amount up, like Rukari had, next to his double-set of canine teeth on the right side of his mouth. He was, at least, vaguely familiar with the product, unlike Rukari, though the two of them seemed to figure it out rather quickly. He tucked the can into a pocket, then joined Rukari back at the campfire to help him with making the tea, grabbing the water-filled kettle, balancing it over his lower right hand, and igniting a vicious blue fireball underneath it.
Kayden watched as Kivenaal and Rukari started making a batch of tea, grimacing from a distance. He knew exactly what those two were going to do to it, and he knew how rough it could be on his kind. Sure enough, after boiling water in an awful hurry, the two of them poured it over teabags in a pair of coffee mugs, added heaping spoonfuls of sugar, and at least a shot-glass worth of high-proof rum before stirring the mix in.
Malavera checked the time and made another note in his laptop, keeping an eye out for new arrivals, though none yet showed up. He knew that at some point, he was going to have to do a drivers’ meeting, but that could wait until after he’d copied in all of the information off of the registration forms that had been turned in.
4 Likes
RK Series Racing; Pre-Race Preparations
The Team
Connor(NaN)
Role: Navigator; Instructional Mechanic
Age: just under two if you disregard the 30-odd year jump into the past
Interests: dogs, i guess?
Appearance: Aggresively average and generic. Short brown hair and brown eyes put onto a round, almost baby-face. 6ft in height. Has a visible white spot on his right forearm with a crack in the middle.
Just google Connor from Detroit: Become Human. Don’t like it but am stuck with him lol.
Clothing: Just a pair of jeans, a black leather belt and some cheap sneakers.
Personal vehicles: none
Not exactly human… (see GAR2 thread for more info on that one). Very calm and attentive nature. Intelligence faaaaar above average. Only use when fixing cars is a talking instruction manual. Has difficulties interacting with others on a casual basis (i.e. small talk). Has no real opinion of the other two.
Right forearm and hand currently not useable due to damage after a “friendly fire” attack by a past team member.
Lost most of his clothing in shipping from US to Sweden (2020 clunker run).
Tim Redwood (United States)
Role: Driver; Mechanic; Cook
Age: 20
Appearance: Slightly taller than Connor and substantially more athletic-looking. “Paintbrush” Haircut of light brown, near blonde hue with deep blue eyes.
Clothing: A local (to him) Basketball jersey from some 3rd league group of mediocricy. An accompanying set of trainers. A black pair of loosely-fitting sweatpants.
Personal Vehicles: 1985 Anhultz Dione IX C (totaled); 1979 Anhultz Dione VIII B (see below)
Interests: tanks old cars that keep on going; sports (namely basketball)
The reason they race in the first place. 20 year old kiddo wants some fun 
. Highly energetic and joyful. Doesn’t want anyone to be hurt during this. Good with tools but a complete dumbfuck when doing stuff himself. Admires Connor for intelligence and capablity to stay calm under stress.
Generally healthy.
Valentin Schrant (Sweden)
Role: Driver; Mechanic; Lighthouse xD
Age: 24
Appearance: 7’3" in height. Generally a skin-and-bones build but with commendable calves and thighs due to his cycling-heavy nature. Excessively long, bright blonde, near white hair makes its way in waves all the way to belly-button height, sometimes covering his very thin, elongated face with light blue eyes. (basically an elf, but without the pointy ears. the correlation is entirely coincidental)
Clothing: A set of what look like ordinary skate-shoes, but “Shimomo” branded and making an awkward clacking noise when walking on hard surfaces (such as tiles or smooth concrete). A Pair of slim-fit stretchy jeans of which the right leg is rolled up to just below the knee. A very loosely fitting tanktop and a long-sleeve button-up shirt layered on top with none of the buttons done up.
Interests: Cycling; Engineering;
Personal vehicles: An extensive fleet of about 5 bicycles, all of which are named and extensively modified.
Son of a fairly successful business couple running a transportation business.
Freakishly tall at 7’3" (2.21m), but very slim for his size.
Early days of teenage years were spent delivering Newspapers all around the town, leading to him being the polar opposite of Connor socially. Also decent-ish with cars despite not being formally trained. Desperately wants to avoid beef with and between others.
Mostly tags along to not be a disappointment to the remainder of the team for bailing.
His long (all the way to belly button), wavy haircut frequently gets in the way, limiting sight.
Has knee/ leg issues if standing/ walking for extended periods.
Constantin Schrant (Sweden)
Role: Varies
Age: 29
Appearance: 7’ in height. Hair and eye color matches Valentin closely, but is much shorter, sporting a few inches of a ponytail and a short trimmed sidecut. Impressive physique and rather angular face makes a more intimidating character to look at relative to other team members.
Clothing: Constantin is sporting what essentially is a full set of military attire, comprising of a basic T-Shirt covered in a field jacket, complete with Patches for name and nationality (Sweden) and LCDR (Lieutenant Commander) rank insignia. Matching pants in forest camouflage pattern and black, heavy military boots complement the outfit itself. On his back, a military backpack together with what essentially is a single-man campsite can be seen. Strapped to said backpack is a highly custom longbow to one side and a quiver of 16 equally custom arrows on the other.
Interests: Archery; Anything Military; Sailing/ Seafaring
Personal vehicles: 2018 Sisten Calero LE 2.0
Note: Constantin is Valentin’s older brother, but neither party is aware that they are related to the respective other. As such, they will treat each other as strangers.
The Car
Anhultz Dione VIII B
Well it’s the car you probably all know and love… or hate… whatever. The Anhultz Dione VIII was released in 1978 in an attempt to consolidate the Brand in the upmarket brand of bigger (by EU standards) cars. The vehicle went on to become massively popular, mostly due to it’s near unkillable construction and decent ride, albeit at a steeper price than competitor offerings.
This car, manufactured for the domestic market features a strangled-down 2.0 four cylinder engine with a whole 81 metric horsepower. Coupled to a 4 speed radio, the thing isn’t exactly an exciting vehicle performance-wise. At least it’ll surely make the trip.
More details can be read within the following RP transcript.
March 3rd 2022; just before noon; somewhere in Nevada
The group of Connor (driving), Redwood (rear) and Schrant (copilot; assisting in shifting) mysteriously end up somewhere in the desert of Nevada after having to more or less wait out an entire season of GT racing in the 1990s. Connor has been aware of this first, as his GPS equipment started returning the signal again. The other two don’t seem to remember much of that even happening, save for a sizeable salary check on the dash credited to Valentin for his duties at FlexBus Keika GT. Redwoods phone goess off with an E-Mail notification from a team he knows from the Once More event
Redwood: “Yo, take a look at this!” [holds up phone to Valentin in front of him]
Schrant: “What? Are you sure this is a good idea, given that we somehow DROVE this car from Sweden all the way to Nevada of all places?”
Redwood: “Gimme a minute…”
Redwood proceeds to use Googol Maps to triangulate their position and see how far their hypothetical start line would be away. It turns out that they are a mere 45 miles away, albeit the latter 43 of which are behind the last major settlement. Before Redwood can finish his navigational studies, some intense crashing and crumbling can be heard from below the car. Connor instinctively attempts to slow down, just to discover the brakes being waaay softer and less effective than anticipated.
Connor: “Neutral, please. I also need the emergency indicators enabled.”
Schrant: [confused] “What was that?” [he pulls the gar to neutral and turns the hazard lights on]
Redwood: “Dunno. Hope it didn’t die on us…”
The cars rolls to a stop after numerous instructions regarding the use of engine braking to slow the car down. The team then heads out and inspects the damage done to it. They discover that their makeshift brake cooling has been torn off, ripping the associated brake line into a million pieces. With the team sitting by the side of the road, they ponder as to what to do now.
Schrant: “So the brake line went bust, nobody in sight and no parts to speak of. What now?”
Redwood: [looking a few hundred yards down the road] “Amazing how you are in the stratosphere yet still blind enough to not see that village over there.”
Schrant: [visibly annoyed at the low-effort height joke]
Connor: “Somethingsville, 420 inhabitants as of December 2019.”
Redwood: “How far is it? Like half a mile? We could roll the car over there and see if anyone has stuff we can work with.”
Schrant: “Sounds like a plan.”
The team go ahead in pushing the car the last 900-or-so yards to a very rural gas station. Connor was made responsible for steering and parking-braking and opts to do that from the passenger side for easier brake access. The other two are behind pushing the car and it’s contents. Some time later, the car rolls onto the lot and stops, at which point all three asses the situation surrounding them. The gas station lot itself is nothing remarkable, with all of two pumps and a small snack shop building next to them. On the opposing side of the road seems to be a local scrapyard/ used dealer, with something that is blatantly obvious to the entire party.
Redwood: “Does that lot have a brick in there?”
Connor: [still seated, with the door open] “69 of them in direct line of sight.”
Redwood: “Goddamnit i meant another Dione!”
Redwood practically sprints over to the other side and confirms his spotting of another Anhultz Dione just sitting there on the lot, unused. The other two follow soon after and immediately scan the vehicle from afar. Some gruffy-looking old man walks up to them:
Man: [cliché old man voice] “Helloo. What do you want?”
Connor: “Gree…”
Schrant: [interrupting Connor] “So… our brake line went bust and we need parts. Do you have any by chance?”
Connor: [awww.wav]
Man: “If you find one, you can have it. Haven’t seen one in months, though…”
The three head off in search for brake lines, but to no avail. In the meantime, the scrapyard owner hastily places a “for sale; 850$” sign written with pink marker onto a sheet of paper below the wipers of the Dione. Upon returning, said sign is discovered by the group.
Redwood: [to man] “Since when are you selling it.”
Man: [having to think hard about the time] “About two minutes? I heard you need something to get you outta here.”
Schrant: “What are you gonna do, then?”
Man: [chuckles] “Take the reward i got for this one joining the million mile club.”
Connor: “Do you mind if i inspect the vehicle?”
Man: “Do as you please.”
The Dione is then thoroughly looked at. The documents, as well as service history, recent inspection results and a slip containing insurance info are discovered in the glovebox. Those reveal a slew of minor issues:
Inspection Results
- trunk lid gas struts failure
- nearside high beam headlight broken (others foggy)
- offside power window failure
- offside rear door handle does not open from inside
- offside rear door handle does not open from outside
- rear window defroster failure
- rear window wiper coverage insufficient (i.e. it moves, but only like two inches)
- air conditioning fan failure
- radio missing
- rear springs worn but not excessively so
(Disambugation: Nearside = right side of the car; Offside = left side of the car)
Adding to this, general wear and tear can be seen on stuff like seats being worn, paintwork fading or outright flaking off in places, numerous plastic surfaces on the inside being either warped or cracked, among other things. However, rust seems to be superficial at worst and the critical componentry such as the engine, transmission, brakes and such seem to be in good working order. The team agree with the owner to trade in their old car for the “new” one, paying 300 quid on top to account for the former not being driveable. They subsequently start work on moving supplies and all over to the other car. Much to their surprise, they have few issues in fitting all of their gear into the new purchase. They soon roll off the lot with, leaving an old man grinning ear-to-ear behind, just to stop two blocks over in a parking lot:
Redwood: “So. This race is being started by team Shift Happens. They also were part of the Clunker run last year!”
Schrant: “You mean those weird-ass Tiger people on the other end of the pit lane?”
Redwood: “Exactly! Race is set to start on March 4th and the start line is only 40 or so miles away! And that old punk Tonsom wants Connor away anyway.”
Connor: “If we are to participate, we have three days and 4 hours to prepare.”
Schrant: [cautiously] “I mean… guess we should start packing, then.”
The three meet back up with the seller and go about planning their trip. The email claims very poor fuel availability, resulting in them making changes to the engine to accomodate the poor fuel. A dual-layered head gasket (reducing compression), generous jetting of the stock carb and substantial retardation of the distributor allows the car to run on Kerosene generously supplied by the old man. It absolutely ruined fuel economy, but performance was about on-par with what it made stock on regular pump gas.
A simple Steel-Plate was also bolted to the subframe mounts to protect the underside from the announced poor quality roads. They then thank the newly made friend by paying up some 200 quid for his services and head off to some small grocery store in which they stock up food for a week, a spare cartridge for their cooker and some DeadHose™ water filters to avoid having to lug around gallons of water. With the “mods” done and cautious confidence, they head to the start line and await the start.
OOC:
Whatever happens at the start line, we’ll see once i catch up on reading the walls of text you made
EDIT:
added some visual descriptions of my characters
4 Likes
Team Shift Happens
Previous Chapters:
The Plan / Getting the Truck / The Email
A Trick and a Wager / I Hate Scorpions!
Let’s Get This Party Started / First Arrivals - Starting Party 6 AM
Making Friends? - Starting Party 7 AM
A Moment in Time - Starting Party 7:30 AM
Shitbox Rally Starting Party, 8 AM Local Time
Malavera looked up as he heard the sound of another car arriving. This time, it was a sun-faded orange Anhultz Dione VIII B, owned by Team RK Series Racing. They cruised into the camp, parked next to Team Witchlight’s large sedan, and got out of the car. Connor got out of the driver’s side rear seat first, followed by Redwood from behind the wheel, and Valentin towering over the car once he unfolded himself from the passenger seat. Malavera gathered up his clipboard and paperwork, heading over to the team. “Good morning,” Malavera said, before gathering the information he needed from each of them. Once he had their team name written down, the names of the team members, and made sure they had at least one driver and one navigator, he switched the sheets on his clipboard and started inspecting the car. Unlike some of the others, the Dione was still fairly low to the ground, low enough that Malavera wasn’t going to be able to just slide underneath the car and lift it up that way. However, after measuring the ground clearance and verifying that the Dione was RWD, he concluded that it was, if only just barely, capable of handling some off-roading. He handed Redwood a Shitbox Rally sticker and said, “Put this on the upper corner of the passenger side, on the windshield, please. It’s not permanent, but it’s a badge of honor for participating in this event.”
Given that Kivenaal and Rukari had both finished their drinks, they were talking quietly between each other about an old song the two knew quite well. After pouring themselves another mug of rum-laced tea, the two Valraadii stood up and walked to the middle of the camp.
“It is a tradition,” Kivenaal said, “for our people to sing on the eve of battle the songs of those who fought before us. While we do not go to war, we will be battling our cars on this trip, fighting mechanical issues, waging a war against time and breakdowns on an unforgiving battlefield.”
Rukari, speaking slower so his English was less broken, joined in with, “Our song is from a long time ago, a battle fought in Crugandr by the mother of one who fought alongside my father. We have spent many days to translate this from our language into English, and reworked some to be closer to how songs are here.”
With that, the two of them waited for most of the camp to quiet down, before they started their song together with Rukari singing the odd verses and Kivenaal singing the even ones, the two of them having similar voices with Kivenaal’s only a touch lower than Rukari’s, though Rukari carried more of a gruff growl to his as part of his accent.
It was an early morning, the battle-call was sent,
and off to war in Crugandr the bunch of us now went.
We got there three weeks later, the enemy was entrenched,
and the weather turned so rainy that all of us were drenched.The battle had turned brutal, the ground had turned to mud,
slippery from the rainfall, and scarlet from the blood.
Spells and blades crashed loud and hard as day turned into night.
My fellow soldiers watched for trouble in the dying light.A heavy mist obscured the ground, all now held their breath,
for all who fought there knew the signs, here came the Hound of Death.
From the forest came a Dyre, a proud and savage beast,
drawn to the sounds of battle, our bodies his grand feast.We stared out through the mist, eyes locked upon the Dyre,
a wolf with fur as black as coal, and eyes as bright as fire,
Our battle brought him running, our blood called him to hunt,
and then he came to look at me, a mean Valraadi runt.I knew then what I had to do, though my hearts were full of dread,
I had to face the beast in battle, I had to take his head.
I drew my blade and left my trench, and felt a sudden chill,
when the beast threw back his head, howling his need to kill.My fellow battle brothers watched as I stomped across the mud,
taking care to mind my step in boots now slick with blood.
I knew my blade could kill a man, but could it kill this beast?
I only knew that I was now the one to end his feast.I stared out through the mist, eyes locked upon the Dyre,
a wolf with fur as black as coal, and eyes as bright as fire.
Our battle brought him running, our blood called him to hunt,
and then he came to look at me, a mean Valraadi runt.He turned to face my naked blade, his face and claws were red,
stained with blood from enemies, both live and truly dead.
He howled out a warning, I stood and roared my own,
though in the mist and fog I knew that I was all alone.He charged with sudden fury, I made my move too late,
His claws across my belly warned me of my fate.
I knew then that I must die, such would be the price,
as rain beat down on both of us, as cold as winter ice.I stared across the mist, eyes locked upon the Dyre,
a wolf with fur as black as coal, and eyes as bright as fire.
Our battle brought him running, our blood called him to hunt,
and then he came to look at me, a mean Valraadi runt.The battle fell to silence as friend and foe now watched,
a brutal fight unfolding that carried a great cost.
One would live and one would die, they knew that much at least,
but who would live to fight again, the beauty or the beast?I blocked his strikes and dodged his blows, but I feared I could not win,
I felt my body slowing down, I saw his wicked grin.
With grim determination, I raised my sword at last,
I would not join his feast tonight, even if my life had passed.My blade struck true, the wolf went down, he howled a mournful call.
I fell right down there at his side, my wounds now bared to all.I stared across the mist, eyes locked upon the Dyre,
a wolf with fur as black as coal, and eyes as bright as fire.
Our battle brought him running, our blood called him to hunt,
and when he looked right back at me, I felt less like a runt.We laid out there together, the wild and untamed beast,
and the bloodied battle maiden who had ended his great feast.
I watched the light leave his bright eyes, I feared the same for me,
another soldier lost to battle, another fading memory.Rough hands pulled me to my feet, my head began to spin,
They pulled me from a battle I had no right to win.
“You’re not dead yet,” a voice called out, a healer on my right
who tended to the many wounds I’d gathered from the fight.And I stared across the mist, eyes locked upon the Dyre,
a wolf with fur as black as coal, his eyes once bright as fire.
I’d met the beast head-to-head, I’d fought with him and won,
and now our foes in battle were leaving at a run.Legends told me later, I’d killed the Hound of Death that day.
Those we fought had bled enough, a heavy toll to pay,
for all of those who now believed that Death now favored me.
Death was now on our side, a sign of victory.The healers say I will be fine, my wounds will heal in time,
so long as I am careful and I keep them free of grime.
Luck that night was on my side, a thought now turning grim,
for how things would have turned out then if fate had favored him.Now I stare back in time, eyes locked upon the Dyre,
a wolf with fur as black as coal, his eyes as bright as fire.
I remember him for who he was, warrior-of-the-moon,
who met his end in battle fierce, many years too soon.
Kaylie and Kayden smiled as they watched Rukari and Kivenaal walk back to the campfire after their song. “Couldn’t have paid me enough to do that,” Kaylie said to her brother.
“Yeah, no, I wouldn’t let you either. Last time you sang in the shower, I thought you closed the door on your tail,” Kayden teased. He ducked under Kaylie’s attempted swat at his head, chuckling as he moved just out of reach, only to catch a surprisingly vicious kick to his thigh.
Kaylie started swearing in Tigrilan after her shin met Kayden’s hard composite armor, hopping around on one foot for a moment. After she regained her composure, she scowled. “Twin Suns, that was stupid,” she muttered.
“I believe the humans would call that a ‘brain fart.’ A moment of stupidity anyone could have,” Kayden replied.
“That just sounds disgusting and awful. Then again, so do many human phrases, so I suppose that’s normal,” Kaylie said, grimacing.
(OOC: So, yeah, had that one kicking around the archives. What Rukari says is accurate, the person who’s mother that song is based on did fight alongside Rukari’s father. And yeah, it’s rough, not very good, but I wanted to have the two Valraadii do something unusual in the camp. And it is a Valraadi tradition to sing the day before battle. And what is a rally except a battle against time?)
4 Likes
The First Campsite, Nevada, USA
March 4th, 2022
Unknown, Nevada
Local time: 8:15am
Weather: Clear
Aidan sighed nervously, the adrenalin coursing through his veins. He could say the same about his team mates who even though had stoic expressions on their faces he could tell just by looking at their eyes that they felt the same. Regardless, Aidan wouldn’t give up on the plan he’d given them. He took a deep breath and motioned for his team mates to follow him they stopped just short of the Bricksley and Owen went round the corner.
Kayden spotted him and signaled for him to wait. The other Shift Happens team members were nearby, Malavera was scrolling through his laptop on the desk nearby, Kivenaal was rotating the cylinder of one of the four revolvers he had, making sure it was lubricated properly and Jaden was examining a lug nut. Kayden returned from around the corner with his sister Kaylie.
“What was it you wanted to show me again?” Her question attracted the attention of Malavera, who looked over with both heads and Kivenaal, who returned the revolver to its holster. Rukari was already watching the two men who were standing near their vehicle and the three others standing behind them.
“I saw them already and their–”
“Just watch, you’ll get your answer soon.”
At that moment all five men reached around the backs of their necks as if to press a button, a half second later the human form faded and disappeared into nothing and there stood five beings. All of them looked something between a fox and a cat sans the whiskers, covered in fur head to toe. Owen, had light brown fur with dark brown striping on his forearms and on his ears. Aidan was similar, but with a darker shade to the light colors. Pavel, the biggest, was completely silver. Max was orange with darker orange striping and Karl was dark grey. Their ears were massive, almost as big as their heads. There was only one race that wielded the wrenches they held and had these giant ears, and that race was the lombaxes*.
This was a major shock to practically everyone on team Shift Happens and there was an awkward silence between the two teams as they stood there.
Malavera took the opportunity observe their outfits. All of them had relatively the same outfit, Aidan had the most basic one, a dark orange short sleeved shirt that looked armored, denim looking pants with brown boots that were either leather or some other material. Owen was dressed similarly but his top was gray, Pavel had long sleeves, while Karl wore some kind of armored suit and Max was dressed the same as Pavel. Each of them had a plexiglass or acrylic dome on their chest with some kind of symbol inside.
“You all seem quite surprised.” Owen said, with no hint of the Irish accent in his voice. “I can’t blame you though. Now, I guess now I have to tell you our real names. I am Orlan, Owen was the most normal sounding name I could find. This is Aedan, same as Aidan, just spelt with an E instead of an I. Pavel’s name hasn’t changed. Max’s true name is Malcolm, don’t ask why and Karl’s true name is K’Mino. Spelt K - Mino, but pronounced Ka mino.”
Aedan picked up the Omni-Wrench that was leaning against the Bricksley. “I know we filled out our registration form with the normal human names, but it was a necessary precaution. We can sort it out later if it causes problems.”
After talking with Shift Happens, the team returned to their car and brought out a cooler filled to the absolute brim with ice and 1L Jack Daniel’s whiskey bottles of all kinds of types and flavors, Grabbed a couple of plastic cups from the car, and then retrieved their handguns from the car and set up a small shooting range made out of two plastic tables, and some empty soda cans facing away from the camp towards a nearby hill, about 40 feet from the back of their car. The gunshots rang out through the camp attracting a few spectators who wanted to see what was going on or try their hand at shooting soda cans.
(*OOC note: I highly recommend people to look up what a lombax is as it can help you visualize my characters better since I absolutely suck at physical descriptions.)
To Be Continued… as always.
3 Likes
Team Shift Happens
Previous Chapters:
The Plan / Getting the Truck / The Email
A Trick and a Wager / I Hate Scorpions!
Let’s Get This Party Started / First Arrivals - Starting Party 6 AM
Making Friends? - Starting Party 7 AM
A Moment in Time - Starting Party 7:30 AM
Another Team Arrives / War Songs in the Camp - Starting Party 8 AM
Shitbox Rally Starting Party, 8:15 AM Local Time
After the startling reveal of Team Oil Crisis, everyone in Team Shift Happens was a little shaken up. Some handled it better than others, of course. Malavera knew about the existence of Lombaxes, but had never seen one. Likewise, Kaylie had heard about them and done some research on Omni-Wrenches mostly because she had believed it would be the ultimate universal wrench, but could never get her hands on one. Rukari was surprised to learn that they weren’t human, but he’d seen shape-shifters before, so he had remained composed. Kayden had his suspicions, but really wasn’t expecting them to be cloaked in that way, and had actually startled. Kivenaal, like Kayden, had his suspicions, but unlike Rukari, had never seen shape-shifters or people using concealment spells before, and had perhaps the most visible reaction to the grand reveal.
“No, it won’t cause a problem that you used human names on the registration form,” Malavera said. “But, we’ll probably refer to you by those names more often than not.”
“Hey, you guys mind if we set up a shooting gallery?” Aiden inquired.
“Just make sure it’s safe,” Kaylie replied.
8:30 Local Time
Sure enough, Team Oil Crisis had a shooting range set up in no time. Pops and bangs rang out as cans were brutally assassinated, perforated, and otherwise punctured as Team Oil Crisis worked off their adrenaline rush from their grand reveal.
They, of course, were joined by Kivenaal, who drew his four revolvers and unleashed a hail of .357 Magnum rounds downrange, never missing a shot despite shooting a different gun in every hand, only stopping after 24 rounds had been fired. He looked over to Owen and said, “I’ve been doing this a while. Three time pistol champion in my local shooting club.” He half-cocked all four hammers, tucked two of the revolvers into his holsters, and rapidly unloaded his replica Colt Peacemakers, one shell at a time. “They’re nothing special, really. 7-and-a-half inch barrel, nickel chrome finish, walnut grips,” he added, before loading the two guns with six rounds, setting the hammers down gently, and holstering those two loaded pistols. He drew the other two that needed reloading, flipped their loading gates open, and again emptied the six spent cases from each of them, loaded six rounds into each gun, closed the gates, set the hammers back down, and holstered them again. Despite it being a slow process, it was clear that Kivenaal had gotten rather quick with doing this from practice.
Then there was a quiet rattle as Malavera closed the toolbox on the Bricksley and joined them at the range. He dialed his railgun down to minimum power, took aim at a can, and pressed the trigger switch. A sharp crack and an immediate clang rang out as a half-inch by three-inch steel rod broke the sound barrier, slammed through a can, and ended up in the dirt. “Would be more sporting, perhaps, if the targets were a couple thousand feet away with this thing.” He powered it down, letting it hang over his shoulder. Before anyone could say anything, half the range was obscured in smoke and a deafening cannon blast tore through the air as Rukari joined them, slinging a kilogram of lead at one unlucky can with nearly a full kilogram of black powder using his traditional murdaira.
“And now we can’t see until the wind blows that away. Thank you,” Kivenaal said, glaring at Rukari as they stood there in the reeking sulpherous cloud.
Rukari’s response was to draw his cap-and-ball percussion revolver and hit four of his six shots despite the obscured view of the targets, while adding even more smoke drifting across the range.
Kaylie looked over at the range, sighed, and wandered over as well, tying a string to the hole on her wrench. With a snarl and a grunt, she hurled her adjustable wrench with her right hand at one of the coffee cans where it hit with a resounding crash, knocking it off of the table. Then she pulled her wrench back in with the string and grinned. “Sorry, I didn’t bring a gun. I mean, I could go ask my older brother, Jaden, to borrow his plasma pistol, but… That’s not worth it.”
Kayden walked over as well, drawing his plasma pistol from the holster at his hip and blasting a fist-sized hole through a coffee can, before handing it to Kaylie. “It’s not as flashy as the civilian model, but they fire the same,” Kayden said.
Kaylie sighed. “You know I’m a terrible shot,” she said, before proceeding to miss two cans and then finally hit the third. “I got one!” she exclaimed. In the background of the range, there were two small glowing puddles of rapidly-cooling glass where Kaylie’s missed shots had landed.
“Not bad for a mechanic,” Kayden said, chuckling. “Now, if you’re not shooting, finger off the trigger, sis. Otherwise that’s a really good way to put a hole in your own leg.”
By that time, Rukari had reloaded his black-powder rifle-cannon and took aim at another can, exploding the air again as he filled the range with smoke. When the can jumped off of the table because Rukari aimed a bit low, however, Kivenaal rapidly drew a revolver and hit the soda can six times before it could hit the ground. Kivenaal glared over at Rukari and said, “Go use the shotgun in the toolbox if you’re going to keep doing this. That gun is a menace.”
Malavera chuckled, then returned to his table to help other teams out. Kaylie stayed at the range, borrowing one of Kivenaal’s revolvers to practice her marksmanship, even though she hated reloading it. Kayden took shots with his plasma pistol at targets that were beyond repair in between wandering the campground to find more empty beer cans, coffee cans, empty bottles, and empty food cans to help replenish the target range. Rukari decided he had better things to do than to waste all of his black powder on targets that weren’t even a threat, instead wandering around to look at everyone’s cars. And Kivenaal took advantage of Kaylie borrowing one of his guns to practice shooting with only two revolvers in hand.
3 Likes
The First Campsite, Nevada, USA
March 4th, 2022
Unknown, Nevada
Local time: 8:30am
Weather: Clear
Kivenaal, the designated sharp shooter of Team Shift Happens, had brought his four Colt Peacemakers to do some shooting with. He never missed a single shot despite shooting from a different hand each time.
Orlan was curious about his skill. “How long have been at this?”
“A While, Three time pistol champion of my local shooting club.”
Kivenaal began reloading.
At this moment Orlan took note of the weapons he was holding. “Colt Pacemaker replicas?”
“Yeah, Nothing special, 7 and a half inch barrel, a really nice nickel chrome finish, and walnut grips.”
Orlan looked at the HK USP in his hand. “Huh, I find the H and K USP to be the one for me. It’s comfortable to hold and has low recoil. Plus the modern design is equally as exquisite as your revolvers. Though, Aedan over there’s got a chrome Mark 19 Desert Eagle. He said it came with the 10 inch barrel in the box Pavel brought it in. Not even the .357 Magnum your Peacemakers take are comparable to what that thing shoots. .50 Action Express its called.”
“Would be more sporting if these cans were a few thousand feet further that way.” Said Malavera slinging his railgun over his shoulder."
A loud deafening bang rang out through the desert and then dust and smoke were in the air, the scent of Sulphur along side it all.
Kivenaal turned around to face Rukari. “And now we can’t see until the wind blows that away. Thank you,”
Rukari simply responded by drawing his sidearm and firing it off into the cloud and hit four of the 6 shots.
“I’ll be right back.” Orlan said turning around and walking away.
A few moments later he returned with his M16 and grenade launcher. He popped a single 40mm grenade into the launcher and took aim.
“I guess this is the closest thing I have that’s a human weapon to your stuff.”
He pulled the trigger and the grenade sailed through the air landing near the table. For a second there was silence and then the grenade exploded knocking a water cooler jug off the table.
“Orlan! I told you to only use the grenades if we are in serious trouble.” Aedan called from the car behind them.
“I’ve only brought 10, so I’m down to 9 now.”
“Does that Omni Wrench shoot anything.” Kivenaal asked.
“No, Only the Millennium Mark One, Mark Three and Mark Twelve do that. The Millennium 12 shoots electricity and the Mark One converts into a rifle which shoots conventional ammo while the Mark Three also becomes a rifle but shoots energy rounds. Although that’s the model my wrench is, I don’t know about Aedan’s, Or anyone else’s for that matter.”
Kivenaal nodded in acknowledgement.
The shooting continued for another 20 minutes before it was just Aedan and Orlan taking a few pot shots.
Laying his Desert Eagle down, Aedan turned to Orlan. “I guess we shouldn’t spend all our ammo on things that aren’t a threat.”
“I concur, we’ve used very little but we should probably conserve it for the rest of the journey.”
(OOC Note: Their true names can be used interchangeably with their human names so there’s nothing to worry about if there’s any uncertainty.)
2 Likes
Team Mravolinski-Chitco
Team info: 2022 Shitbox Rally - Out of This World! (Results Out!) - #30 by MrdjaNikolen
As was case with previous part, this is reply to said previous part.
WATT is love, baby dont shoot me
Klimentol had somehow recalled few lighter adapters in toolbox that were thrown there by me.
Realized that his work wasnt necessary, so he reverted the work to how it was originally done.
Chicota noted two hosts getting in middle of camp and noted down the rest of team, expecting they would anounce something important
However…they didnt do so, instead singing a song. As they said, there was tradition of singing of songs from those before us before engaging in battle.
This havent proven very necessary in his opinion but, to be honest, our opponents are usually striking down first and without proper anouncement, so if someone has opportunity of singing, it would be them.
Song had, however, brought a question of whether or not he would be able to tackle down beast that opposed protagonist of said song.
Answer would likely be “No.” judging by the fact protagonist is likely similar to members of Shift Happens.
Would someone of that team be able to take it down? Hmmm, answer to this would be Probably.
Seems like that actual fight was happening and both dogs and Chicota spared no time at all rushing to source of gunshots, only to find that enemy is composed of…army of empty soda cans.
This shooting range did proven to be interesting and our trio took their time watching their new friends using variety of shooting weapons, sometimes rather overkill in nature (few members of Shoot Shift Happens happen to be guilty of this pleasure).
Pi had also joined and actually did something universally useful for once, lifting the need for Kayden to deal with picking up the trash so to speak.
Although she was managing this on 20/80 basis: 20% of stuff went to our car-she thought these might be useful to more skillful members of team and rest was delivered to shooting range.
This was in fact true: We did appreciated having actual bottles and cans for water and beer.
Some songs could be heard from my older phone
shown on picture below-and yes, i personally took that picture
For potential phone geeks, its Nokia Asha 210 Dual Sim, owned by me for solid 8y.
Other phone i have at my disposal is LG K8. This one has transparent silicon case but is otherwise black-cant take the pic of it bcos im actually posting from it.
Anyway, songs
There are plenty more, but this lot should be enough.
So if you happen to come near our truck and hear music, you now know the likely source(s) 
Pi had some plans of making a tour around camp and meeting some other teams that prob werent as involved or werent involved at all in past activities. She was advised to wait for someone to acompany her, to avoid potential misunderstandings due to her not knowing English
VerBanka went to eat some burgers and would return back afterwards
DJ Mrx (one of high-school friends had indeed called me in such fashion due to lot of songs i have) had continued to share his varied musical taste with few dogs and robot…and Pi ofc, but she isnt really gonna complain about anything.
Dogs and robot had considered going along with Pi’s idea, but decided to sort out most of stuff that Pi brought instead, to kind of dissaproval from human-based quadrupled.
VerBanka returned and put a requests for song
(Ok, there is entire playlist of sorts. Feel free to find 2 or 3 other songs of your choice from it to complete the request).
Pi then decided to look around shooting range that was and noted few chunks of…something.
She hardly believed when Aydar informed her that it was glass, made from sand and very extreme heat brought by certain plasma rifle owned by Team Shoot Shift Happens.
Upon return they realized that shit happens, so they went along with it.
Finally, Klimentol had reminded us that car itself has radio, so there was no need for Mrdja/myself to present his/mine music taste.
OOC: So, this team is pretty much in/around the car and in/around the tent at the moment.
If anyone is interested in saying hi, feel free to do so.
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