2022 Shitbox Rally - Out of This World! (Results Out!)

RK Series Racing; Pre-Race Camp

The group of three is approched by two other competitors. Connor immediately recognized the visitors as participants of the GAR2 - Bolivia event, whereas Tim and especially Valentin don’t have a clue as to how these people were. Before either human could talk, Connor blasts ahead, greeting them.

Connor: “Good morning, Mr. Mäkitalo… Mr. Kero.”
Tim: “Yeah hi. Thing has joined the million-mile club. This being the third one i believe… Now… do we know each other?”
Connor: “They were participants of the Great Automation Run 2, located in Bolivia.”

Tim thinks hard about the people present at the past, but neither face of them rings a bell. This also applies to Valentin, who is not exactly eager to talk, given half the grid obviously not being human.
as such, he retreats to the rear end of the car for some mental cooldown while sat on the trunk edge.
Tim, Connor and the members of the Hillbilly rollers remain at the front, talking for a bit about how they want to take part in this curious shitbox rally and the respective cars they brought. At some point, they part ways, with Tim and Connor also scouting for what the other teams have done while Valentin stays behind at the car.

That RP section with Knugcab; hidden cuz it doesn't add anything new content-wise

Mäkitalo: “Yeah, we saw each other in Bolivia. And by the way, you got some five minutes of fame in the Trafikjournalen magazine after the 2020 clunker run, when the Dione seemed to just run and run forever, relatively unaffected by breakdowns. We weren’t there but we have of course read the magazine, so there is a borderline legendary status surrounding your team and car.”

Mäkitalo is showing Tim some memes on his phone, all of them with the point that the Dione is the most unbreakable thing on earth.

Redwood: “About thaaat… it went bust. Brake line shat itself to bits. I mean… would’ve been a cheap fix, but we were out of time. So this one ain’t the exact one from clunkers…”

He chuckles at the apparent internet icon that the car (or the Dione in general) has become. Connor, for now, doesn’t exactly do much.

Mäkitalo: “Yeah, I thought that it looked like a different car, so I thought, well, more Diones for them. Anyway, I got to purchase a kind of nice van for this from my workplace that I am putting my faith in. I am not too sure, though. As you can see, it was already a bad idea to put my faith in Marie with the brush”, he says and shudders.

Both Connor and Redwood look over to the bright pink van, Redwood immediately grinning ear-to-ear at the hilarity of it.

Redwood: “That’s a thing of beauty. Best paintjob i’ve seen! Either way… We go this here '79 model off of some old man the next town over. Said he bought it new back then and has driven it intensely since, uuuntil he got a brand-spanking new one for free.”
Mäkitalo: “Heh…that is kind of a cool story then. Well, I wish you good luck with the rallying, and just shout in case of emergency, if we have the possibility to help we sure will give it a try”
Redwood: “Cannot exactly shout further than like half a mile, but there’s always a way. Thanks for the offer already.”
Mäkitalo: “Well, the CB is still left and intact in the van so as long as we are in range, you can shout there too. Just not as loud as if you’re trying to shout half a mile, I hope.”
Redwood: “Cannot exactly do that without a radio, now can we. Had some crude phone-call connection system for the clunker run. Even then, we probably could call about.”
Mäkitalo: “Well, there’s most often a way if there is a will. Just so you know, I will probably not deafen you guys with the dixie horn while passing, but having a more friendly approach. I can’t say the same about the idiots that nearly ran me over with the Dunav, though…”
Redwood: “Thanks for not blasting out our eardrums, then. Speaking of, i’ll probably have a look about the field to see if anyone else i know is here.”
Mäkitalo: “Same, I guess. Well, we’ll probably encounter each other later in one way or another. See ya!”
Redwood: “Haha! Bye!”
Connor: “Have a nice day.”


While Tim is away with Connor doing recon, Schrant is left behind and dabbles on his phone until another unknown person walks up to the car.

Constantin Schrant

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 upcoming RP with @variationofvariables is inserted here and overlaps with what happens below]

Constantin walks up the sun-baked Dione, both hands gripping the straps of his backpack as if he’d been hiking for quite a ways.

Constantin: “Well Hello there. Are you Tim Redwood of RK Series Racing?”

Valentin wasn’t exactly keen on causing trouble with someone easily capable of punshing him to bits, especially given his weight being slightly exaggerated by the camouflage clothing.

Valentin: “Err… No. Tim went off with Connor to do some scouting of the other teams. I’m Valentin.”
Constantin: “Lieutenant Commander Constantin Schrant. I’ve talked to Tim online and he agreed to recruit another team member. Now i am here.”
Valentin: “He never told me of you arriving… It’s not like i can prevent that now anyway, now is it?”

The two keep rambling on with crude small-talk about why they are participating, the car they brought, the obvious lack of planning done to both them and the car, among other things. At some point, Constantin dumps his backpack on the ground next to the Dione and takes seat within, waiting for the return of Redwood.


OOC note @Knugcab
am currently setting up a dialogue with @variationofvariables. Need to kinda make the setup with them work with this RP arc. sorry if it feels rather forced. Also, i wanna add a 4th crew member before deadline strikes, soooo… yeah

i will also transition to using first names for narration and speech to allow proper distinction between Valentin Schrant and Constantin Schrant

@Madrias i would like to add Constantin Schrant as a 4th member to the team; i will add his profle to the team intro header

2 Likes

Psst…Janne is a male name in Sweden…you might want to change “mrs.” :upside_down_face:

sorry

has been edited accordingly

I thought the same thing tbh

Well, it have confused me a couple of times that you only have to go to Norway and it is suddenly a female name instead. :stuck_out_tongue:

Team Slow
A mere absence. We are back. And this time it is NOT a filler. Bring it on! Part 5.

March 9th 2022, Mojave Desert. The designated starting area. Some may say it’s situated in the middle of nowhere. Others may think differently on this one.
Time: 12:18, Weather: A hot 23 degree Celsius sunny day with barely any wind.

So the front left tire burst, That is no problem for TIRE SEALANT, Besides the fact we do not have any tire sealant.

John goes around the car searching for a can of tire sealer that could be bundled with modern cars instead of a full-size spare, Instead of tire sealer, he does find a fullsize spare, because back when cars actually had an extra tire and not a tire sealer to save costs on digging a hole into the metal floor, he unbolts the flat tire, shoves it into the boot of the car and begins to install the spare steel wheel. Besides the tires being rotted to hell.

Matt, on the other hand is busy selling out some hot-dogs to anyone in the challenge using the barbecue and goes to grab some more until John tells him that the Archanan tires are rotten.

J: What kind of tire is this?

M: 23 Something year old tire, what do you expect, So are the current tires.

J: Alright, alright we’ll go ask some people if they have any tires, What are these again?
John looks on the sidewall to see the specs of the tire
J: Yeah these are P235/55 R15 Falcons.

Matt: Okay, I’ll go ask anyone if they have tires of the R15 variety.

30 minutes skip and the hot-dogs are finished. 12:48, We put the hot dogs in foil, refuel the car by 6 Liters and then extinguish the barbecue as it is finished.

OOC: If anyone has a spare set of R15 235s (niche size maybe?) We may be in need of them.
If anyone wants hot-dogs, you could come to me for some hot dogs. Freshly cooked.

3 Likes

Alright Fellas. This took a hot minute, but I’m proud to bring to you the Machinas Con Passione Shitbox Adventures, Episode 1!
I promise the next one won’t be as lengthy. Anyway.

MACHINAS CON PASSIONE’S SHITBOX ADVENTURES, EPISODE 1: A Man, His Wedge, and 200 Horsepower of Pure Mediocrity.

Character Profiles - Giacomo Scarfiotti

Role: Team Owner, Financier, Navigator.

Age: 49

Nationality: Italian

Description: 5 foot 8, cleanly shaven with spiky, white hair. Extremely… er… “eccentric.”

Background: Giacomo Scarfiotti, no relation to the great Ludovico Scarfiotti, is an Italian businessman whose main sources of income are questionable investments and his father. Eccentric by most standards, Giacomo is what would happen if you were to make a fallout character with charisma and luck that were both 10 and 0 at the same time and instilled in him a great passion for race cars. He’s tried to enter every great race worldwide, with middling results. His marque, Machinas Con Passione, is renowned for buying up rejected or defect ridden cars to use in said great races, with predictable results. A face you learn to love, or in most cases loathe, the one redeeming quality Giacomo has is his great, unending, probably out of hand, self esteem.

The Tall Tale of How a Couple of Idiots Entered a Shitbox Rally

All stories, be they great or otherwise, all have a beginning, middle, or end. Our story, which may very well fall into the latter category, starts with nary a whimper or a bang, but a flying sheet of paper being carried on its journey by one particularly fateful breeze. It’s here, of course, that our sheet of paper should happen to pass by the city of Naples, Italy, and float past passersby minding their own business, utterly blind to the momentous occasion that is moments from occurring.

I refer, of course, to the timely gust and equally well timed appearance of our protagonist, one Giacomo Scarfiotti, a wealthy former trust fund baby, now a fully established trust fund adult. Mr. Scarfiotti himself is also unaware that the whims of fate have chosen to graciously bestow him with the biggest challenge he’s faced yet, by rather bluntly smacking him in the face.

Giacomo liked to think that he could take a punch, he’s made enough ill advised plans to cross that off the list years ago. It’s a bit different when you go from minding your own business to being completely blind. Giacomo stops dead in his tracks. He ponders what could possibly have caused his sudden blindness. Obviously, nobody had suddenly decided to give him a piece of their mind. Had he developed sudden narcolepsy? He knew going to the doctor regularly was important, but figured it must have been like telling the truth on your tax returns, there’s no code of honor forcing you to do it. He continues pondering. “Hmm. Clearly I must be awake, or I wouldn’t be able to speak.” He says to the great, unending void he currently stares into. This is quite puzzling indeed. Going to stroke his chin, a “force of habit” of Giacomo’s that he pretends to do naturally, but is really a calculated attempt at looking smarter than he actually is, Giacomo realizes that instead of an extremely handsome face, he’s grabbing at a sheet of paper. Curious.

Giacomo pulls the sheet of paper off of his face, it seems to be the invite to a… “Shitbox Rally”? It almost seems too easy. Who else to get the most out of a dusty shed dweller then an extremely rich, sheltered, and extremely handsome businessman such as himself. He gets to work assembling the crew.

Naples, Italy: The Residence of Giacomo Scarfiotti. A few hours later.

A few hours later, at his home, Giacomo realizes that the one thing more important than getting people who are competent at their jobs, is getting people who look cool doing it. With this being said, rather than dig through his contacts from years of questionable racing projects, maybe a washed up endurance racer or a rally driver who survived their last meeting, Giacomo decides to take his big chance on:

THE INTERNET!

And so it was, Giacomo decided he would conduct the most thorough of investigations to find the first member of his crew: the driver. He types in: “Fast racing driver.” and gets a list of people who are both fast and racing drivers, but nobody who’s free at the moment. Alas, he tries again. “Fast racing driver for hire.” And enter. Giacomo knows he must be careful, and very discerning with this next choice. He passes over the first two choices, which he hears are ads, or something like that, and clicks the third website instead: Driver4Hire.com. (disclaimer: not a real link) That should work. After two flicks of his mouse wheel to get the popular drivers out of the way, he stumbles upon a particular driver and description, with a phone number attached underneath a brief wall of text.

Character Profiles - Thibault Prosper

Role: Driver

Age: 31

Nationality: French

Description: 6 feet tall. Shoulder length, Jet black hair. Bushy beard. Cool, calm, and collected.

Background: The only seriously credentialed member of the group, Thibault Prosper got his start, as many do these days, in Go-karts. After dominating the local and national kart scene, Thibault would middle in open wheelers and touring cars until finding his feet in the World Rally scene in 2012. 3 years of top level rally competition would see him establish himself as a hot prospect, only for him to risk everything in the top flight of Open Wheelers once more.

He failed.

Two full time stints would yield him a total of two points and a pink slip at the end of 2021, politely asking him to go find something better to do.

It’s here he decides to reinvent himself as a driver for hire. After a few gigs and birthday parties, he gets a phone call from a mysterious Italian businessman, starting him down the strangest path he’s traveled yet.

Nice, France, Residence of Thibault Prosper

Thibault Prosper was the kind of guy who would normally get a random phone call, take half a second to make sure he didn’t recognize the number, and instantly hang up without further hesitation. Those times were long over now, as he’d fashioned himself a “driver for hire”, a way to keep his career, which even he admitted was on life support, alive and relatively well. Though he’d been inundated with calls when he first started the service, as things progressed, however, the number of calls seemed to shrink with the passage of time. Hopeful that this call would actually lead to something, Thibault picked up as fast as he could, and quickly had those hopes dashed. On the other end, someone could clearly be heard mouthbreathing directly into the receiver.

TP: “Um… Hello?”

GS: “Ah, yes, is this one… eh… Tiebolt Prosper?”

TP: “Oh. Yes, yes that’s me. I suppose you need a driver?”

GS: “Yes. One that’s going to look really cool driving for me, and one that I can hopefully take a lot of, ehh… promotional pictures of.”

Thibault wasn’t a stranger to the odd request or too, he figured that it must have been for some kind of corporate event. Poor Thibault.

TP: “Oh… Uh, yeah… I think I could do that. I suppose. Can you give me more details about the job?”

GS: “I can pay for your plane ticket to Naples, the rest must be kept super top secret, to stop people from stealing my plans. I know They will be doing their best to sabotage me.”

TP: “They?”

GS: “They.”

It finally dawned on Thibault why most people don’t give out their phone numbers to the general public, particularly famous people. You attract these kinds of people. He was in dire need of a paycheck, though Thibault wondered if there were some lines he shouldn’t cross to make a few bucks. Then again… A free trip to Naples…

TP: “Well, if anything, I’ll take you up on the free trip to Naples.”

GS: “Good! Good.”

Naples, Italy. Residence of Giacomo Scarfiotti. 5 Minutes Later.

A few minutes after hanging up on that Tie Bolt Imposter guy, it dawns on Giacomo: What if someone were to get hurt? While he would normally be perfectly content to ditch the poor fellow and take over the reins himself, to say that Giacomo lacked experience actually driving past the speed limit would be generous, at the very least. It dawned on him then that he must find a doctor, or, at the very least, someone who wouldn’t empty their stomach contents at the sight of a mosquito bite…

Sicily. Dover Healthcare Office. 2 Weeks Later.

And alas, a fortnight passed before Giacomo was able to find someone with a legitimate PhD to join his journey. And a fortnight of rejections from every credible doctor in mainland Italy had led him to Sicily, in hopes of finding some quack to at least pretend to try and know what a bone was. And so, he found his saving grace. In the form of a urologist’s clinic. Another win for the Scarfiottis.

Upon opening the door, Giacomo saw a nigh abandoned waiting room. 8 seats, all empty, a receptionist’s desk with a woman, completely passed out, and a very tiny bell next to her, along with the sounds of… Screaming? Coming from the general direction of the exam room. It was then that it occurred to Giacomo that no good urologist should have anyone screaming for any reason, though luckily for him, he hadn’t found a good urologist. Giacomo quietly sat down in a corner and kept to himself, thinking it better to not disturb the peace, hoping he wouldn’t find himself next in line for this so-called “treatment” the poor bloke in the other room was getting.

Character Profiles - Dr. Benjamin Dover

Role: Medic

Age: 42

Nationality: ???

Description: 5 foot 10, average build. Neatly cropped beard and an equally neat, though short, hairdo.

Background: A disgraced doctor, Benjamin Dover is descended from a long line of neurosurgeons, and was on the fast track to joining them, becoming a neurosurgeon straight out of college, before multiple botched operations would see him unceremoniously fired from the hospital his family had owned and operated for years. Ousted from his family for “besmirching the family name”, Benjamin quickly found his true calling: covert mob operations! Just stitch up a few mobsters, change locations, and you’re all good! Even if you put their stomach where their intestines were, what are they gonna do? Find and kill you? As if!

And alas, the screaming finally stopped, as one Benjamin Dover, MD, with an ecstatic expression and clothes drenched in blood, proudly marched out into his office, turned to the sleeping receptionist, and proudly declared at the top of his lungs: “MARIA! HE’S DEAD!” He was met with naught but an equally loud snore. Failing to notice his latest client, who was completely bewildered by the good doctor’s antics, Benjamin tip-toed over, and, in a well practiced swing, completely annihilated the bell that had likely been intended for whatever “clients” were coming through here.

It was then that the receptionist, a lady of around 20 or so, finally stirred awake, looked the doctor up and down, and seemingly knew what had happened. Surveying the bell, she seemed to resent it’s untimely destruction. “Y’know doc, if you’re gonna to destroy the bell everytime someone dies, maybe don’t make me pay for it every time? Getting paid to sleep is enough work already, dontcha think?” Giacomo could resonate with her, having been forced to do chores for his allowance as a youth, as a punishment for blowing a significant portion of his father’s wealth on fuzzy dice. A fond memory indeed. Dr. Dover gave the bell a once over, and mused, “Well, I would be glad to pay for it out of pocket if it were a business expense, and not a personal item such as a bell. You know how these things go, liability and the like.” Ooh. Business. Giacomo loves that stuff. Or he pretends to, at least. The most professional thing he’s done is be awesome, which he doesn’t see many of Father’s acquaintances doing these days. If only they could see things Giacomo’s way. With that, Maria sighed, and mumbled some musings as she left, presumably headed for the exam room. It was only then that Dr. Dover noticed Giacomo sitting there, rather impressed by his patience no doubt, and addressed the potential client.

“Well then, what do we have here? Are you interested in my, erm, “service”? You might qualify for an under the table discount! That is, so long as we can toss this bit of your medical history “under the table”, if you catch my meaning.” Giacomo, not wanting to find out where his urological system was, politely declined. “Ah. I see. Then, I hope you can excuse us, we have a routine in cases like this.” Giacomo turned over to see Maria dragging an unusually heavy suitcase to the front door, and turned to face the doctor once more. Oh well. What’s the worst that can happen? “So, ehh, you’re without an office, I take it?” Giacomo inquired. The good doctor’s face immediately lit up. “Not anymore! Would you be able to fix that? You seem to be particularly affluent.” This was easier than Giacomo thought… Though he wondered if these two would be more trouble than they’re worth. “Well, if you don’t mind working out of a car the past few weeks, then, ehh, sure thing! I’ve been looking for a medic, or doctor, or anyone with a fancy plaque that lets them cut people open without getting us too many prying eyes.” With this, Dr. Dover quickly ran to the back, presumably to fetch said plaque. A few seconds later, he returned with a very much out of date and likely revoked medical license, and presented it to Giacomo. To Giacomo, it seemed like he finally had a crew on his hands.

Character Profiles - Maria Vecchi

Role: Mascot? Ballast? Both?

Age: 20

Nationality: Sicilian

Description: 5 feet tall, slim build, shoulder length brown hair.

Backstory: Maria didn’t ask to be here, she’s only shadowing Dr. Dover because of some mob family obligations that she doesn’t particularly care about. She doesn’t say much, and is usually at her happiest when being left alone. Yeah that’s kinda it.

Naples, Italy, Residence of Giacomo Scarfiotti. 1 Day later.

Giacomo finally had something of a team assembled. Now that we have the people, we’ll need the car too. So. The car. The car. Oh God oh Fuck the car Giacomo put exactly zero thought into the car oh lordy lord what is he gonna do-

Wait.

Giacomo had a bright idea.

Just buy a random piece of crap car nobody wants! Works every time! Luckily for Giacomo, he had a few connections in the automotive world, and quickly went asking around for any roomy, well seated cars. And so. He asked. And asked. He likely irritated most of his “friends”, yet still asked them all, incessantly, over, and over, and over, again. Finally, after 2 days of searching, Giacomo had found it. The car that would win team Machinas Con Passione the shitbox rally.

A completely abandoned prototype van. It had no name, no engine, outdated bias ply tires, and possibly the ugliest design for any car ever. But alas, Giacomo saw great potential in it. A car this horrendously disgusting would certainly catch some eyes, and get people talking about MCP, a win win as far as he was concerned. It just needed an engine, and a few modifications, and it would run smooth, like butter! Though Giacomo would have to find someone competent enough to do all of that, because working on an engine without a muffler is pretty freaky. So much noise. Nope. Giacomo would have to enlist a mechanic, going on yet another goose chase, thanks to having put around 5 seconds of actual thought into the project beforehand.

And so, our story takes us to McChad Auto Parts, an american-based auto parts shop, run by the one Mr. McChad. How Giacomo and McChad met is the source of speculation for many (read: none), and may never be revealed to the general public, but the most common theory is Giacomo drunkenly stumbled into the shop during a visit to Nevada in the late 90s, and became fast friends with the sole employee, Chad Mcchad. Alas, whenever MCP needed a cheap repair job done surprisingly well, the McChad Auto Parts shop was the first place to visit.

Carson City, Nevada. McChad Auto Parts HQ.

It was a small building really, the usual cramped garage setup of two cars on jacks, and various equipment lining the walls of the establishment. There were doors for a gyro, a paint booth, and a cordoned off area of the Garage, usually reserved for premium customers (read: Giacomo.) It’d been a few years since Giacomo’s last visit, though it hadn’t changed a bit.

McChad Auto Parts specialized in those good old V8 engines from days gone, but they weren’t one to discriminate when blind checks, like the one Giacomo often brought in, were being thrown about.

“Yo, Giacomo. What craziness do you have planned now?”

Character Profiles - Chad McChad

Role: Mechanic

Age: ??

Nationality: American

Description: 6 foot 6, 280 pounds of pure muscle. Strong jaw, thick, luscious locks, and thick beard to match.

Backstory: Chad McChad is just… really good at fixing cars. And looking cool while doing it. If there’s any simple solution to a problem, Chad will find some bizarre work-around solution while looking as photogenic as possible the entire process. Need an oil change? Chad will drain the entire oil tank, by mouth, and still get it done within 30 minutes. Why he does this is a mystery, but he looks so dang good doing it. Dang.

Giacomo ran off to fetch his latest attempt to offend God himself, the wedge van, now dubbed the “MCP Aerodynamic Wedge-Shaped Beast”, and talked Giacomo’s ear off regarding various modifications he’d like added to the van.
strong text

Giacomo just so happened to have a bevy of extremely fashionable mid 90’s Mustangs, all acquired at a dirt cheap price, though he hadn’t yet figured out why they were so cheap to begin with, he suspected he may come to the conclusion… One day…

Either way, taking an engine from one of these ‘stangs, and modifying them to run with as much power they could get on the required kerosene was a cinch for Chad McChad, and before Giacomo knew it, they had a racecar, er, racevan on their hands! Genius engineering.

And alas, the MCP Aerodynamic Wedge Shaped Beast had arrived. Responses varied from repulsion to excitement (try to guess who felt what), though everyone hopped in the van all the same, and it was off to the starting party they went. Giacomo made sure to check that all of the modifications he’d asked for had been made:

Cool Engine: :heavy_check_mark:

Speaker: :heavy_check_mark:

Bangin’ tunes: :heavy_check_mark:

Awesome Number: :heavy_check_mark:

Not shit tires: :heavy_check_mark:

Extra Gas: :heavy_check_mark:

Tow Hook: :heavy_check_mark:

Cassette Player: :heavy_check_mark:

And with that, MCP were ready to race! This called for a celebration, and Giacomo giddily inserted one of the tapes he’d brought into the cassette player. The once silent road trip was now interrupted by the dulcet tones of Nick Jonas. Maria was the first to speak up.

“No fucking way. You’re joking, right? Nick Jonas?” At this, utter shock and indignation crossed Giacomo’s face. He was in the presence of a non-Iconick. How truly horrendous. “I’ll have you know, that nobody praises me quite like Nick does. I’m a fan for life, truly, someone who recognizes my dashing looks and exaggerated swagger. He has a real eye for art, you know.” Responded the now outed Iconick. Similar exchanges dotted the remainder of the road trip, as the collective sanity of the group seemed to drip away with each passing mile.

2021 Shitbox Rally - Campsite
And thus, Machinas Con Passione rocked up to the Shitbox Rally Campsite… Mere hours before the race itself was meant to get underway, yet another win for the Scarfiottis! Surely, this is going to go fantastically, and nothing will go wrong, ever, at any point. To anyone. At all. Period.

Part 1 - Fin.
Alright, as much as I want to keep going and write endlessly, I gotta stop somewhere, right? Hopefully this is worth the wait. If you don’t feel like reading all of that, the tl;dr is: “funny italian man finds friends in strange places to drive his dumb car in a race he’s not even supposed to be in.” Hope you liked it!

4 Likes

Okay, that was worth the wait. Glad you could make it into the Rally, we needed more weirdness in here!

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Mel - Driver + Mechanic

/// Age: 25 (DOB: 1996 August)
/// Height: 1.70 m
/// Nationality: :australia:
/// Ethnicity: White
/// Affiliation: Australian Security Intelligence Organisation
/// Deadlift 1RM: 180 kg
/// Cars: 1963 Aisling Bulldog 1.3 RS || 1973 Seraphin Pike RF || 1986 Overland Bushmaster 23 SE 3000TDi Canvas Top || 2011 Diomedes Valkyrie GTS || 2019 Hamura Acolyte RHI

Melanie Lyon (Mel) was born in Adelaide to an aircraft mechanic-turned-Supercars Championship driver and primary school teacher. Throughout her childhood, she quickly cultivated a passion for motorsport and cars as a whole by helping her father with various projects around the house and automotive maintenance; however, after a grisly accident during a practice run that left her father in the hospital for some months, she had second thoughts on becoming a driver for a V8 Supercars team. From her mother, she also felt that she would have a purpose in serving her community, although going into teaching, research, or any other specialized echelon of academia wasn’t her forte. Graduating at the age of 21 with a degree in computer science, she was offered an internship at the Australian Security Intelligence Organisation, and after some months started working full time for them as an intelligence officer.

For her first two years, Mel only had domestic assignments and frequently rotated between Canberra, Melbourne, and Sydney. As her duties were mostly concerned with national security threat assessment, prevention, and intelligence collection and evaluation, she did not initially do much criminal investigation or perform many search warrants, if at all. She loved her job, but at times lamented over the fact that she couldn’t directly witness the fruits of her efforts.

But as the months passed and as she started receiving international assignments and more responsibilities, Mel found that her intelligence-related activities were gradually being interwoven with her growing involvement in investigating criminal activities, typically organized crime. It was a far cry from what she was used to and a steep learning curve followed, as she now had to actually carry out arrests and occasionally track down high-priority criminals at large, but what mattered the most to her was a newfound sense of fulfillment that came from her new duties. Instead of just working from the comfort of an air-conditioned, naturally-lit cubicle, she could now operate directly in the field and directly experience the positive impact of her actions on the community as well. Perhaps she had found her true calling.

Mel values human life all else. Having been extensively trained in handling firearms, she only believes in their use as a deterrence to violence, a means of self-defense, or a last resort if other lives are at stake. She has also been trained in offensive and defensive driving techniques for pursuits, but in accordance with her personal maxims on the use of deadly force, will only commit to a pursuit if the suspect in question poses a threat to others and if no other option is available.

With a highly contagious exuberance yet unfaltering candor, Mel is very passionate about her interests, values, and those she holds close to her. Because of her adherence to her principles of truth and good will, it is also easy for her to hold lasting grudges, although these incidents are far and few between. She frequently autocrosses her 2011 Valkyrie GTS, which is also her patrol car, and has attempted amateur rallycross once with her 2019 Acolyte RHI. In addition to motorsports, Mel enjoys competitive FPS and is also mindful about her health and fitness, with her workout routine consisting of calisthenics and weight training.


Tanuki - Navigator + Gunner + Combat Engineer

/// Age: 24 (DOB: 1997 April)
/// Height: 1.63 m
/// Nationality: :jp: (formerly)
/// Ethnicity: Japanese
/// Affiliation: Black Rabbit Ltd.
/// Martial arts: Taekwondo (5th Dan Black Belt) || Krav Maga
/// War crimes: murder (20-30 counts) || enslavement (15 000 counts) || persecutions on political, racial or religious grounds (1 750 000+ counts) || ill treatment or deportation to slave labour or for any other purpose of the civilian population in occupied territory || ill treatment of prisoners of war or persons on the seas || plunder of public or private property || wanton destruction of cities, towns or villages

International war criminal at large and former heiress to the throne of a faraway exotic autocratic nation, Nakajima “Tanuki” (actual given name unknown) is the daughter of Nakajima Makoto, chairman of a global arms company, and a highly prominent actress in Japan’s movie industry. She was raised rigorously on the arts and academics under harsh governesses and strict parenting, becoming a highly accomplished student with a promising future by the time she enrolled in university.

Tanuki was married off to the Prince in 2016 following a major fallout between her father and the royal family. Mounting political tensions, deteriorating relations with neighboring nations, and a worsening humanitarian crisis brought the nation’s instability to the event horizon. With the might of her own private military corporation, Black Rabbit Incorporated, that she funded and directed herself, Tanuki assumed the throne in July of 2018 after coordinating a violent coup d'état that resulted in the execution of the entire ruling royal family. It wasn’t a stick that broke the camel’s back, but a sledgehammer.

Tanuki’s rule was brief but highly effective, enacting significant social and economic reforms. Although these resulted in a net benefit to the nation, she had also systematically executed an estimated one million and displaced hundreds of thousands more. She was eventually driven out and went into hiding after multiple failed assassination attempts. Tanuki’s current permanent residence remains unknown, although there are occasional reports of her appearance in Australia, various African and Latin American countries, Macau, and even the United States.

Tanuki’s personal life was never heavily publicized even after her forced marriage. The few people (alive) who have directly interacted with her consist of classmates from primary school, although most have signed NDAs and have not disclosed much information, and a handful of former corrupt defense company executives/military officials she had previously worked with. Even her face remains a sight unseen; she always wore a facemask and sunglasses in public, and her parents forbade photography of her uncovered face, a MO she continues to this day.

Nowadays, Tanuki is widely infamous for her penchant for chaos as a vehicle of enacting immediate socioeconomic reform and the means by which she directs Black Rabbit’s combat operations, which almost always result in high amounts of collateral damage. Her MO, which reflects her result-oriented, get-it-done attitude, doesn’t shy her away from doing whatever it takes to reach her goals, even if it entails forced labor or disguising her own forces as non-combatants, a tactic she employs during major overseas operations. As director of Black Rabbit, she frequently appears before her own personnel and officers and even maintains a consistent social media presence, where most know her as a mischievous, ruthless, teasing, and highly motivated terrorist; a sadistic warmonger who isn’t afraid to backstab suppliers or even her own officers under the slightest suspicion of betrayal.

However, more and more surfacing personal accounts from those who knew her at a young age will paint a different picture of Tanuki from her childhood and adolescent years, a Tanuki who is outwardly very reserved and shy when in the presence of strangers, only fully opening up to her true haughty and playful self in the company of those who she truly considers friends.















Debuting in 1981, the 6xx series was Dauer’s entry level model aimed at prospective buyers new to the brand while also providing a new yet equally thrilling driving experience to returning Dauer customers. The “6” indicates the specific model, a front-engine RWD 2-seat sports coupe, while the last two digits denote engine displacement; a 632 indicates a 3.2L boxer-6 engine. Various levels of tune were available, ranging from the “S” (higher output engine, stiffer anti-roll bars, upgraded brakes) to the GTS Turbo (280hp 3.2L turbocharged B6, numerous handling upgrades, sport interior, weight reduction). As it was their first front-engined model, the 6xx was initially released to the chagrin of many loyal Dauer customers, but eventually earned a name for itself as one of the finest handling sports cars of the era.

During an international assignment in the downtown Los Angeles area in 2020, Mel located a 65k-mile 1985 Dauer 632 S in fair mechanical and exterior condition for $12 000 USD. Upon consulting her father, who had previously lamented over the lack of used examples around Adelaide, Mel purchased the car and planned to have it shipped back to Australia. However, with concerns regarding international shipping arising from the Coronavirus pandemic, she was forced to keep it in a storage unit in LA.

Longer and more frequent assignments in southern California would lead to Mel renting an apartment nearby, where she could take the 632 out of storage and regularly drive it. Many years of working with her father on engineering projects allowed her to easily bring the powertrain and running gear to excellent working condition without spending an exorbitant amount of money.















12 Likes


i am unable to write SPEEDSPEEDLOVEROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAASPEEDSPEEDLOVERAAAAAAAAAAEAEAEAEAEAESPEEDSPEEDLOVERCOUNTDOWNSOVERSOMETHINGSOMETHINGTRACKSPEEDSPEEDLOVERGAMESNOTOVERAEAEAEAEAEEEEEEEEEEEESPEEDYSPEEDYLOVERAEAEAEYOOOOOOOOHEAVYRAINPUSHINGTHHESTARTEROFYOURCARSPEEDSPEEDLOVERGAMESNOTOVERLAAALAAALAAASPEEDSPEEDLOVERCOUNTDOWNSOVER

TEAM BLAZERS


PROLOGUE III


A portion of this story features writing from @Elizipeazie.


With the sun fairly high now in the sky, and the other team members rather agitated, Charlotte and Watson veered out of the tent as the rest decided to just… rest…

“Can you believe it? It wasn’t even sundown, it was sunrise! And here we were rushing everything trying to get that thing prepared, even though we had so much time!” Charlotte groaned. “Well, at least we get to see some other people today…”

“Among all the things that I hadst found difficult with watch malfunctions, attempting to discern the current time and timezone is indeed one of the more painful ones. The rest you could manage with a wide enough vocabulary and understanding of linguistics, and just being good tempered. I’m surprised you didn’t know the time, either.”

“I was in a rush, okay?!” Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Anywho, I guess we should actually keep looking around. It smells like there’s some good food going on here, you hungry, Detective?” Her feline nose immediately picked up the strong stench of barbeques and other such meals taking place as she poked at him. All around them, tents were filled with different people of different species, ethnicity, race, backgrounds, and whatnot. More important to Charlotte however, were the different types of automobiles present in the campsite. Big cars, small cars. Not fast ones, and decently fast ones. You get the gist.

“I could go for a snack or two, just have to find someone willing enough to share.” He said as he looked around. Watson was tense, even though his body language had not made it clear. He was constantly on guard, and his very own senses seemed to be capturing something as he followed the black-furred feline. Meanwhile, Charlotte looked upon the cars, most of them were certainly shitboxes, going well with the theme of the rally, and so she felt rather conspicuous when she glanced backwards towards their tent, with the rather flashy and decently clean enough Yamada SUV sitting before the entrance.

Just like the two of them, Watson spotted as two other guys were walking just in front of them. However, his senses told him something was up with them, or rather, one of them. He gently tapped one of the men on the shoulder, and the man eerily turned his back around to look at Watson. Without a change in his demeanour however, he began to ask, “Sorry to disturb you, mind if I asked you something?”

“No, I don’t. How can I help?” The man quickly replied in a disturbingly calm and neutral tone, and after he had replied, the other man he was following had also stopped to turn around and face them. Watson looked confused for a moment, but stayed calm. He glanced around before walking up closer to the man and spoke in a fairly low voice. “You’re not of this era, are you?”

As he did this, Charlotte simply looked at him rather puzzled. The man proceeded to reply again with the overly neutral, rather, offensively neutral tone. “Depending on what exactly you define as an “era”, this statement may or may not be true.”

“He’s some fancy-ass police-bot from like 2030-something. How he got here? What do i know? All i know is that he’s now here and apparently at my service.” The other man chimed in, replying in a much more casual conversational tone than the first one, but his little blurt-in was followed up by yet another neutral sentence from the first man. “I am temporarily bound to Mr. Tim Redwood until both of us return to my partner.”

“Police… bot?” Watson looked at the two of them, still rather disconcerted about their ways of speaking, before looking back at Charlotte with the same look. Charlotte shot him a rather miffed glare.

“Shortened form of robot. Police robot I guess.” She looked at him with a concerned look. “Please tell me you know what a robot is…

“You mean those mechanical hunks of steel vaguely shaped like a human?” Watson looked back at the so-called robot. “Impressive… People hadst advanced that much through one hundred years to be able to create machines that not only resemble humans, but leap through the fabrics of space-time as we know it. You can clearly understand me, right?” He said, waving.

"What the hell are you saying? Charlotte said, still very much puzzled, and so was the other man, who presumably was actually human. “Yeah, I guess… I mean… you are talking to him.”

“Both parties are speaking fluent english. I see no reason for a language barrier to be present.” The robot replied. “May I ask who you are?”

Watson was about to reply, but Charlotte moved in front of him, almost shoving him out of the way. “Well, like you, he’s a time traveller. Just call him Watson.” After addressing him, her tone had a sudden shift in tone to a much friendlier one. “I’m Charlotte, by the way! Sorry for such an awkward introduction, that guy’s from like, the 1930s or whatever, doesn’t know much about how we go about nowadays.” Charlotte looked over at the man behind the robot, and offering him an innocent smile. “I believe he called you Tim Redwood, didn’t he? Nice to meet you! You’re here for the rally, aren’t you?”

“Good morning, Charlotte.” Connor looked over towards Charlotte. “My name is Connor, an android sent by C-” Before he could finish his introduction, Redwood steps in with his own dialogue. “Yeah. That “partner” of his deserves some extended vacation without 200 plus pounds of annoyance in tow, as he calls him. We do have a third member back at the car.” The smile is returned rather awkwardly as he explains the situation and gestures toward a not-so-bright orange Liftback Sedan. An absolutely ginormous young man with equally ginormous haircut volume is seen seated on the loading edge of the trunk. He seems to be dabbling about on his phone in search of something to do.

Charlotte is slightly startled by Connor’s sudden ‘good morning’, and she just awkwardly waves at him as she looked over towards the faded orange sedan. Connor initially attempts returning the wave with his right arm, but fails due to previous damage inflicted to it, leading to it not moving at all. He thus returns the wave using his left hand.

“Oh! A Dione, is it? As far as I’m aware, not a rare car by any stretch of the imagination, very much sticking to the theme of the race, arencha?” She says as she glanced at the vehicle. Redwood’s eyes seem to light up as he begins to speak a bit more enthusiastically. “Yes! My last one went bust because of brakes. Getting a new one was faster than fixing the current.” Redwood seems highly enthusiastic about his new old car and the race, despite it not being an offroader by any stretch and only having minimal mods done to it. Upon the loud exclamation, the giant looks up and towards the group before being approached by a bulky man in full military attire, but without a firearm. The two start talking to each other, but not loud enough to understand anything.

Whilst Redwood was busy being occupied by Charlotte’s nerdiness over anything with four wheels and a body, Watson looks back at Connor a second time, but once again is unable to peer into his robotic mind. Seems like his technique only works on humans. He sighs, and this time his expression takes a slightly more serious shift. “Right then, Connor. I’ll be straight with you. I can sense that you’ve managed to create a rip within the quantum space fabric, in other words, jumping timelines. Achieving this as a fully sentient machine is impressive to say the least, would you mind telling me… your methods of achieving such a thing?” Watson says as he pulled out a golden-coloured watch from his pocket. Anyone with keen time-travelling senses would undoubtedly be able to detect it’s mystical properties. Yet there was something off about it despite being a state-of-the-art time-travelling device, for the watch’s hands didn’t seem to move, and there they were frozen in place.

“I would like to, but am not capable of doing so, as i am not aware of any action i did that would have caused it. Even if the event has been intentional, i would have no reason to voluntarily cause it.” After having frozen for a bit, Connor began to explain rather sincerely, as Watson seemed deeply interested in meeting another time-traveller. Watson seemed to have begun picking up the pieces to the pattern, and so he continued trying to analyze Connor.

“You’re a robot right? Do you have any idea why your creator might have fashioned you in this way?”

“I have been built in order to assist humans in law enforcement and detective work. My current partner is on vacation and has temporarily reassigned me to Mr. Redwood.” He repeats what has been already said. Not that he has another choice, as the android has not a single clue as to how or why he is time-travel-capable. Upon hearing his name, Redwood just turns back to Connor and Watson. “You good?” He asked, and Connor turned back towards him to provide a very simplified answer; a simple “Yes.”

Watson was just pensive at this point. Either this robot’s not intelligent enough to know or his maker made him intelligent enough to avoid questions that might have him know their true purposes. He looked back at Connor and simply sighed. “Detective duty, huh? It’d be nice if you’d use those detective abilities of yours to figure out what exactly hadst gotten you here.” He looked behind Connor and towards Charlotte, who seemed to had been overhearing the entirety of the conversation despite her enthusiastic gossiping about automobiles, and when Redwood had turned around to address Connor, she quickly shot a disapproving glare towards Watson.

“Well then Connor, if you ever do find out that reason, or those methods… You’ll know where to find me. I think it would be interesting to have another discussion when I investigate the likes of you a bit more.” Watson walked past him and towards Charlotte, whilst lightly patting Connor’s shoulder with his palm, giving off a certain signal that only those capable of jumping the timeline fabric could detect, although as for Connor’s case, he probably wouldn’t even realize what had happened. Watson now stood next to Charlotte. “So what have you been discussing about?” He glanced over at the faded orange automobile.

“Mostly exchanging stuff about our cars and how we got to own them. What we did to them in preparation for this race, what have you…” Redwood also overheard the conversation between Connor and Watson. While he didn’t get every detail of it, it now seemed to him that Watson was dubious in nature. Also taking a look at his new ‘beauty’, he only now notices that the fourth crew member has arrived. “Also. Seems like reinforcements have arrived.”

“A soldier? I didn’t hear of us going to war just yet.” Watson and Charlotte looked over towards the so-called ‘reinforcement’. As Charlotte noticed the man in camouflage, her face grew uncomfortable, and her body seemed to tense up slightly.

Redwood instantly regrets mentioning the fourth member in the first place. He didn’t think of the immediate intimidation coming off someone in full camouflage.* “Nah… no war. He’s not deployed here or anything. Nor is he infantry… At least as far as I am aware he belongs to the Navy…” He tries to calm down the others with potentially questionable success. From his point of view, he was safe, as he knew he was of substantial rank and exploiting it for anything would rid him of his career rather quickly.

Charlotte tugged on Watson’s sleeve, and visible on her face was a discomforted look. “R-right… I think… It’s best we get going…” Watson looked at her slightly confused at first, but eventually figured it out. He placed his hand over her shoulders and gestured to them.

“Looks like, we’ve ought to be going now. It was pleasant having a chat with you. I’ll look forward to meeting each other again.” He said as he began to escort Charlotte out of the area. As he looked back, he noticed a rather disappointed look on Redwood’s face. Likely because he apparently scared Charlotte off. Still, Redwood remained composed and wished them well, followed by a rather stoic version of the same thing from Connor. Soon after, the two head off, they went back towards their own vehicle as well.

As Charlotte and Watson continued walking around the camp, there was a distinct and very awkward lack of conversational speak between the two of them, even as they passed the tents with the people barbequeing, and they were getting very much awkward. Watson didn’t seem to be having it, however, and decided the best course of action was to just ask her right there.

“Did the soldier trigger an emotional response back there?” He asked in a very analytical tone with a slight hint of friendliness. Charlotte wasn’t able to pick up the cues however, and simply responded with coldly. “What do you think, Detective?”

“I think that you might have something against people in military outfits. Looks like something hadst rung a bell right there. Something to do with your royal background?”

“I’d prefer if you didn’t talk about that loudly.” She crossed her arms. “What’s it matter to you, anyway?”

“You’ve signed yourself up as Navigator. Now, not to bring down your Navigational Skills, but in general, if you’re in bad spirits, I believe we might end up into trouble much earlier down the line.”

“Uh huh.” She rolled her eyes and sighed before trying to switch her tone in a very obvious way. “Whatever, anyway. You think Ray’s brought snacks with him? I don’t think I’m in the mood to go grab a meal from another team. Don’t know who we could run into, after all.”

“Well, princess, if you may be so inclined, I could instead be the one to provide you with the sustenance you might be desiring at this very moment. Instead of thee going out and asking for the food thyself, I couldst instead go in thyne place so tha-”

“Oh, shut up!” She chuckled. “If you want to go get us food, then go ahead, I’ll head back to the tent.” She said, playfully shoving him out of the way. Watson had a small smile on his face as he went out to the other tents to see if any of them had anything snackable.

Meanwhile, Charlotte had made it back towards their tent, quickly looking to admire her rather sloppy job of placing the decals onto their vehicle. There were some air bubbles here and there, maybe a couple of folds and creases, but from a distance, to her, it looked more than good enough as she walked past the faded red vehicle and into the tent. And as she entered the tent, she immediately felt a sudden warmth envelop her as she found the three who had remained were off doing their own thing, Romulo had taken off his shirt as he couldn’t bear the heat of the Mojave as it beat down from the tent’s thin roof, and he was the first to notice and greet her back.

“Hey! Hope you don’t mind me stripping a bit… I have no idea how that blonde bastard even copes with that long-sleeved polo of his in this heat…”

Charlotte glances over at him, his body seemed to really be dripping in sweat, around his biceps and towards his shoulders were little beads of sweat lining it all around, and his chest dripped with the heat-dissipating fluids from his neck. She felt her cheeks warm up a little as she observed the slight shine on his fairly toned body, before she quickly shifted her gaze away. “I-I don’t mind! If it’s really that unbearable to you…”

She looked all around the tent, there weren’t a lot of ventilation holes and the entrances all seemed to be closed, and then it clicked. “Oh, I see now.”

Charlotte proceeded to create some openings in the tent by shoving some of the tent’s walls out of the way, neatly tying them together to create some ventilation, much to Romulo’s dismay.

“W-w-wait! What are you doing?!” He exclaimed, as he reached over to stop Charlotte from creating any more pass throughs. “You’re gonna let the heat in!”

“Are you stupid?” She looked at him with a menacing glare. “That’s not how this works, you’ll just be trapping heat in here if you keep the tent closed like this.” She said as a cool breeze began to flow into the tent. “See?”

“Finally, someone with some sense! I sat here trying to argue with this absolute buffoon about why the tent should remain opened, but it was of no use at all!” Emily exclaimed as she sat up from where she was lying, her breast almost spilling out of her dress because of how far she had unbuttoned it. “I was very much inclined to strip right here and then!”

“If you did that, I at least would’ve gotten some eye candy.” Romulo smirked, before he felt a light object slam into his head seemingly at three times the speed of sound. “Ouch! What was that for?!”

“Insolent fool! How inappropriate!” Emily called out from across the tent, with another handfan still in her hand.

“It was just a joke! You brought it up, anyway!”

Emily just rolled her eyes at this. On the other hand, Ga’araiya seemed to have been woken up from all the commotion that had been going on, and when she awoke, everyone seemed to have paused for a moment as they observed her. She looked at everyone with a confused look, before getting up and grabbing a bottle of water from one corner of the tent. She managed to gulp the whole thing down in what seemed like barely a few seconds, wagging her tail as she did so, before putting the bottle back down and returning to Emily’s side. There she sat, with a rather puzzled look on her face as she looked around wondering why everyone was staring at her. She looked through the tent’s openings, and immediately managed to notice Watson as he began approaching the tent, a couple of boxes of grilled food in his hands, and she immediately got up to run towards him, jumping up trying to reach for the food he was carrying.

“Hey! Be patient!” He exclaimed as he lifted the boxes of food higher to prevent Ga’araiya from reaching them. Slightly annoyed, she let out a small growl before jumping up and clinging onto his arm with only the power of her jaws, which now were revealed to Charlotte and Romulo that her teeth were not human-like, but instead rather sharp like that of a large predatory fish. Watson seemed unfazed by this sudden provocation from Ga’araiya, and continued on into the tent. “I’ve brought everyone a meal, I suggest we start eating. Looks like the organizers are about to do a quick meeting of sorts in a bit.”

“I guess that makes sense. I think I’ll have to go out there since I was listed as the leader.” Romulo said, grabbing the box of food from Watson.

“Any team member can go if they want, so of course, I’ll be joining you~!” Charlotte said in a rather excited tone. “I think they’re going to start telling the other teams what’s about to happen. I can already imagine some of them not being very comfortable with it. Traversing the rift isn’t that scary anyway.”

“Can’t imagine it’d be any worse than jumping to hyperspeed like the Argo from Star Blazers…” Romulo smirked at Watson, but he didn’t seem to notice this as he did not understand the pop culture reference.

“Is that where you got the team name from?” Charlotte pondered.

“Yup, us jumping planes led to us being in this shifting zone or whatever where it looked like we performed an FTL jump. Pretty wild, and rather uncomfortable at first. But I don’t think I’d mind something like that again.”

“The rift is pretty different though, I won’t spoil a lot but it’s not going to be that instantaneous jump like you said.” She shrugged.

“Guess we’ll just have to see then.” Watson sat down before finally giving Ga’araiya the meal she was waiting for. The moment she received it, in an instant it the meal was gone and she looked very much satisfied. She let out a small burp, and her face seemed to flush red slightly as she covered her mouth with both her hands.

“She really doesn’t speak, huh?” Romulo pointed out with his mouth fairly full. Watson swallowed after a bit of chewing, and replied, “No, she does. Just not all the time.” He looked over at her, there was a small stain on her cheek which he wiped off after pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket, before continuing with a smug remark. “Especially when she’s busy eating.”

That remark ended up getting Watson’s back slapped by Ga’araiya’s tail as her face flushed an even deeper red and her gaze avoiding everyone else’s.

Watson… stupid…



5 Likes

Well, friends, it is 12:05 AM, on March 26, 2022, in the Real World

Entries are now Closed!

Thankfully, good news on the cars and teams front: Everyone who is in here managed to get their team information to me along with a car.

So, the Inaugural Shitbox Rally participants are:

Username - Team Name - Car Name


@Madrias - Team Shift Happens - Bricksley Highwayman

@Caligari - Team Wayfarers - IFAZ Bogatir “Chernobog”

@Executive - Team Gearknobs - Hakaru Carica SE

@BannedByAndroid - Team Fallen Angels of the Past - Claussient 25

@interior - Team Slow - Schnell XL53

@TheYugo45GV - Team Oil Crisis - Union Magistrate

@Knugcab - Team Hillbilly Rollers - IP Freeway Star

@Fayeding_Spray - Team Witchlight - EAAC Aphrodite

@MrdjaNikolen - Team Mravolinski-Chitco - Kontir Cunningham

@variationofvariables - Team Blazers - Yamada ASR-4

@SurrealCereal - Team Machinas Con Passiones - MCP AWSB

@AndiD - Team Quick Rally 47 / Studies in Quantum Xenoanthropology - Mara Kanyon

@BG004130 - Team Mrezhari - Dunav 3300

@NoahC - Team Jockey - Yinzer MightyTiny

@Elizipeazie - Team RK Series Racing - Anhultz Dione

@Tzuyu_main - Team Black Rabbit - Dauer 632 S

@SheikhMansour - Team Spy Kids - AST Elbrus


I’ll give everyone a brief chance to relax before I put up the drivers’ meeting and get this mess on the move. Now, I need to go up to the top and let everyone know that entries are now closed.

6 Likes

THE SPY KIDS

Okay, it’s not the real Spy Kids, it’s just four university students with millions of uncertain origin in a clapped out 4x4. But it’s an ex-KGB 4x4, so that basically makes them spies, right? Well, anyway…

The personnel

Driver: Jessica Lombaerts
Age: 19
Appearance: 165cm tall, dirty blonde/brunette hair, dresses exclusively for the beach, skate park, or nightclub.
Description: Half-Dutch, half mad. Her main job is to drive fast, and her car collection reflects that. Her other job is to smoke enough weed to asphyxiate an entire country, and as a result half of the colour and texture in her hair is actually hashish. Is also a hip hop dancer.
Vehicles: BMW M3 (E92), Suzuki Hayabusa, Ford Bronco, Pagani Zonda

Navigator: Alexis Ahaual
Age: 23
Appearance: 155cm, black hair with highlights of varying colours, guerilla uniforms or traditional Mayan or Oto-Manguean dress.
Description: They/them. Fervent Zapatista, even more fervent drum and bass enthusiast. Can speak nine languages, of which five are only spoken in Mexico and Guatemala. Learnt French solely to learn L’Internationale; learnt Russian solely to learn the Soviet anthem. Also an accomplished weed smoker, but prefers mate de coca.
Vehicles: Toyota Landcruiser, Toyota Hilux, KTM 500 EXC

Mechanic: Shay Hirvonen
Age: 16
Appearance: 160cm, blonde hair, wears cottage-core outfits, winter sweaters, or androgynous clothes.
Description: Soft and cuddly on the outside, sharp and devious on the inside. Is better with her hands than anyone else on the team, and probably anyone else this side of the Olympics. Is responsible for the upgrades on the KGB-mobile. When she’s not in soft-core mode, she will step on you, and you will like it. Can also shoot better than Alexis despite not being a committed militant.
Cars: Jaguar E-Type, Mercedes-Maybach S650 (with upgrades), VW Kombi (with upgrades)

Liaison: Lazar Kandyba
Age: 24
Appearance: 167cm, black hair, black beard, 80% normal clothes, 20% Soviet wear and Slav Squat tracksuits.
Description: Ukrainian, Khrushchevist, anti Stalin, anti modern Russia. Much vodka consumption, almost as much sunflower seed consumption. Switched from tobacco to cannabis to alleviate lung problems actually caused by living in Donetsk. Can haggle his way out of a Rolls-Royce dealership. Knows Krav Maga, Muay Thai, and AK47.
Cars: Lada Niva (with upgrades), Nissan Stagea (with upgrades)

The car

Started out life in the 70s as an AST Elbrus, built by Avto Samushaoebi Tbilisi* for the KGB as a luxurious but rugged pursuit vehicle. 4x4, locking differentials, and a 3.8 V8 meant it would vault over rough terrain with ease. Well, as much ease as 138bhp could provide you, and by 2022 there won’t be 138bhp left. Lazar found this thing somewhere in Kharkiv and brought it over to Las Vegas, whereupon it produced grimaces from his teammates. So Shay went to work upgrading it.

New 30" all terrain tyres to handle even rougher terrain, bigger and vented disc brakes to not go over a cliff, and disconnectable sway bars to allow more articulation were part of the modest handling package. The engine got more aggressive upgrades. A tubular exhaust, with double mufflers replacing the old single muffled cast pipes, a new intake, upgraded conrods and crank, and most importantly replacing the four barrel carburetor with an intake port fuel injection system that allowed the installation of higher compression pistons. They’re still only 7.6:1 to handle shit fuel, but when the old ratio was 6.3:1, it’s a huge improvement. The result is 169bhp and improved fuel economy.

Shay’s crowning achievement, however, was the new sound system. A CD player, aux cord port, bluetooth, USB ports, and upgraded sound system promise to make the journey that much more enjoyable, and a refurbished interior means they won’t look like plebs every time they stop at a checkpoint. Of course, these upgrades cost several thousand dollars, but when the original car was a few hundred, it doesn’t matter, right? Oh yeah, there’s also the obligatory roof rack, battering ram, and collapsed suns for the true long distance rally experience.

2 Likes

Team Shift Happens

Team Information

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
A Grand Reveal / An Army of Soda Cans - Starting Party 8:30 AM



Shitbox Rally Starting Party, 9:00 AM Local Time


Once Rukari had finished having a blast at the makeshift shooting range, he started another pot of tea next to the campfire. With water at a boil, he poured some over a tea bag, added sugar, and poured in a hefty splash of rum. “Anyone else want one?” Rukari asked, holding up his mug. “Is sugar, tea, and rum.”

“Go ahead, guys,” Malavera said. “Nine hours until the race, you’ll have enough time to sober up.” He accepted a mug from Rukari, taking a sip and smiling. “Especially because he’s used good rum this time.”

“Is only good rum if fire-powder still burns in it,” Rukari said. “Passes proof. Would not use rum that powder not burn in, has too much water in it,” he added, taking a sip.

Kivenaal grinned, grabbed another mug, and added a second splash of rum to it, earning himself a slightly-disapproving glare from Rukari. “What? It’s good rum.”

“Yi, ahd di nesehuul vedi ki lial vii kosa vosahi,” Rukari replied instantly. (Translation: Yes, and you not-have strong cup before we ride (in) speed-hunt.)

Kivenaal grimaced. “I’ll just have the one.”

When Constantin Schrant walked up to Malavera and asked to be put on the form alongside the rest of Team RK Series Racing, Malavera nodded, flipped through his stack of registration forms, and had him fill out his information. Rukari, likewise, made an additional ring for the late arrival and added it to the sorted tray of rings he had with him.

With most of the teams present, accounted for, and still sober, it was Malavera who walked into the center of the camp, as Rukari and Kivenaal had not that long ago, and said, “Welcome, contestants, to the Shitbox Rally!”

Before he could continue, a bright white minivan streaked into the campsite and parked, perhaps a little aggressively, next to the Anhultz Dione. “We have ourselves a Dustbuster,” Malavera quipped, as Team Machinas Con Passiones rushed over to Malavera with their registration form in Giacomo’s hand. Malavera stared at him with both heads, grabbed the form, and nodded. “I’ll deal with this after the driver’s meeting,” he said.

No longer in a huge hurry as it was obvious Malavera wasn’t going to get to checking over the van until Malavera was ready, Giacomo and his crew stood along with the rest of the crowd. Thibault was still wearing his driving gloves and looking over the cars while Malavera continued his drivers’ meeting. Maria and Dr. Dover were staring at the rest of the crowd, with a look of horror on Maria’s face and genuine interest on Dr. Ben Dover’s face at seeing so many unusual beings around. Chad McChad was studying the other cars, trying to decide if they were going to be much of a challenge in this competition, though it was hard to tell, as rusty bodies could hide powerful new engines underneath.

Turning back to the crowd of drivers, Malavera continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted by the arrival of the minivan, “Hopefully, this will be the first of many.”

Again, however, fate had other plans, as the screaming orange-and-blue Dauer 632 S PANAM of Team Black Rabbit Corporation, fully liveried-up like a proper rally car, slid in sideways, covered the white minivan and the faded orange Dione in dirt, then spun around to park next to the minivan. Quickly, Mel and Tanuki got out of the car and ran over to the drivers’ meeting.

Malavera sighed, then shaded his right set of eyes with his hand as he looked to the horizon to see if any other cars were immediately visible. When he spotted the AST Elbrus of Team Spy Kids approaching, he decided to wait a bit until Team Spy Kids parked up next to the Dauer 632 and got out of their SUV. Jessica, Lazar, Shay, and Alexis got out of the car, with Jessica handing in the registration form as the team passed Malavera, joining the driver’s meeting.

Malavera, trying to shrug off being interrupted again, continued on with, “I’m getting this drivers’ meeting over with early, because, let’s be honest, if I try to do this in nine hours, half of you won’t hear it. Kaylie will be handing out rings to each member of every team, and these rings are important. Rukari has worked some magic over them to do a few things. First, these rings will let you speak the native languages of the world we will be traveling through. Second, they act as beacons for us, so we can tell you’re still moving, still in this. If you’re ever stuck, we’ll know and someone will help you out. Third, and most important, however, is that each ring has an emergency teleport spell woven into it. If at any time, you have a problem where you really need to get back to where you came from, rotate the ring clockwise on your finger and say ‘I wish to be at home’ three times within 10 seconds, and you will be transported back to your home location. Note that doing this will destroy the ring in the process, and may cause some damage to the vehicle you’re in, but it is meant for emergency use only. Also, if you check the table full of food, you’ll find a stack of folders there with team names on them. Inside each folder, Rukari has placed a hand-drawn map of the world we will be driving through. He has used a special ink that will only reveal the contents of said map with three hours remaining.”

“To prevent pictures on internet,” Rukari said, by way of explanation, while making a few more rings with one of the spare copper ingots he had, so that the late arrivals would be safe.

“Other than that, the rules are fairly simple. First rule: Don’t be a dick. If someone’s broken down, help them out. If someone’s stuck, yank them out. Yes, it’s a race, but remember, the person you yank out of a ditch in the first stage might be the guy who has that part you need in the last one. We’re all driving shit cars here, we’re all going to have breakdowns. Second rule: Leave nothing but your tire tracks. I don’t want to see a trail of trash following our cars. More importantly, we’re going through an area that has less technological development than Earth has. You might think it’s harmless to yeet a spark plug into the forest because it’s been mechanically regapped by the piston, but that could give someone an unfair technological advantage. You might also think it’s fine to leave beer cans laying around, but no one there will know what a Mudweiser is, and we don’t need to introduce the locals to aluminum cans in their rivers. Third rule: We leave here at 1800 hours. That’s 6 PM for anyone who doesn’t use 24 hour time. Rukari here plans to open a gateway between worlds, and while I don’t understand it, he does,” Malavera said.

“Will have 20 minutes for all teams to enter Nelehnraad. Do not be in gateway when I close it, not be good for anyone,” Rukari said.

Malavera continued with, “At noon, we’ll give you all a glimpse of where you’ll be going.”

Kivenaal spoke up at this point with, “Believe me when I say, you do not want to try to go through when we show you. The amount of energy it takes to hold the mirror open is… It takes both of us to do it, and we can only manage this version for five minutes. Trying to go through it could leave you, as the term goes, ‘stuck Between-the-Glass,’ and we don’t want that happening.”

Malavera then said, “So, if you need supplies, now is the time to get them. If you need to rent a CB radio, come see me, I have a few left, new in box, that you can use for the duration of the event. If you need help installing your radio, go see Kaylie.”

Kaylie raised her chrome left hand and waved. “I wired up four in our truck. Had plenty of practice to do it right, so you won’t have to worry about having your radio cutting out when you hit the horn, or keying the microphone turning on your off-road lights. I learned how not to do that already.”


With the driver’s meeting over with, Malavera checked over the MCP Aerodynamic Wedge-Shaped Beast, abbreviated it on his checklist as the MCP AWSB, and stuck a Shitbox Rally sticker on the passenger side of the windshield. “Welcome to the Rally,” Malavera said.

After the MCP was checked over, Malavera then checked over Team Black Rabbit’s registration form, handed it over to Rukari to get their rings made, and quickly inspected their car, finding it to be a well-put-together little rally machine. He handed Tanuki a Shitbox Rally sticker to put on the windshield, then said, “Welcome to the Rally.”

Finally, the last car on the list was the AST Elbrus, which Malavera confirmed was indeed rally legal, plastered the passenger side windshield with a Shitbox Rally sticker, and, like he’d done for the other teams, told Team Spy Kids, “Welcome to the Rally.”


Rukari chuckled, adding more rings to the tray to cover all of the new arrivals, just before Kaylie picked up the tray of sorted rings and the registration forms, then walked around the camp, her chrome left arm gleaming in the desert sun as she handed each person a simple copper ring engraved with runes. “These are part of the registration, to help identify each other as racers. Please, wear them at all times. Malavera assures me that the size you’re given matches what you need, and, to be fair, I don’t want to know how he got that information.”

“I put it in the registration form before attaching it to the email, Kaylie,” Malavera said. “Not everything I do involves hacking.”

Kayden chuckled, turning his ring over in his hands before putting it on. “It’s a shame they had to be made of copper. With the runes, if these were gold…” Kayden said, trailing off at the end.

Kaylie glared at her brother. “If you snarl out, ‘My precious’ in that stupid voice again, I’m going to make you eat your tail!”

Rukari gave a grim chuckle as he put his own ring on. Unlike the others, his carried no enchantment to understand the languages of Crugandr, as he knew the languages there.

Malavera slid his ring on with little fanfare even though he noticed that his ring, unlike the others, was a bright gold. He found a note from Rukari in his pocket, which simply said, 'You wear ring of pack-leader, because navigator is most important job on ship.’ He smiled and tucked the note away, glad that Rukari had acknowledged the importance of the position.

Kivenaal smiled, sliding the slim copper band over his ring finger of his lower right hand. His was enchanted, mostly because while he suspected he could probably understand the people in this time, he’d have as much fun dealing with them as most English speakers would in the Dark Ages with Old English.



(OOC: And so it begins. This is going to be fun. Expect the next couple of updates to be somewhat quick, and soon we will leave Nevada behind.)

2 Likes

TEAM HILLBILLY ROLLERS
PART 1.0 - Now things got serious)

After Janne vent back to the van, he spotted a new face over at the RK Racing team, that looked suspiciously familiar. “WTF”, he thought. “Constantin Schrant? What is he doing here”. Back at the van he was interrupted by Andreas, that had heard that the drivers meeting was going to be in just a few minutes, so they better had to hurry with finishing what they had to do.

The team had barely arrived at the drivers meeting before they got interrupted by a kind of familiar sound.

A: “Who is revving a V6 like a maniac?”
M: “Someone arrived in a Pontiac Trans Sport!”
J: “That’s not a Pontiac Trans Sport!”
M: “What is it then?”
J: “Eh…yeah, what the… What IS it?”
A: “And look who is stepping out of it. Thibault Prosper!”
M: “Thibault who?”
A: “Well, once a somewhat famous rally driver, now he has done a mistake too much and works as…ehm, more or less Ronald Mc Donald.”
M: "Yeah, and you are a folkrace driver.
A: “Uhm… SHUT UP, the hosts needs to say things and you are disturbing them.”

The next cars to arrive was a Dauer and an AST, but even if they were spectacular in their own rights, they weren’t as strange and interesting to the team as a Totally not a Pontiac Trans Sport but what is it, driven by a failed ex WRC driver. They heard Malavera speak about the rules and Marie had a hard time understanding them.

M: “What is he saying?”
A: “More or less that you should be locked into the van and not be allowed to leave it. That’s the only way to prevent disaster, I guess.”
M: “No, that was not what he was saying.”
A: “Then shut up and don’t ask.”
M: “Uhm…can’t copper turn your fingers green?”
J: “Yes it can. Can a drunkard turn a whole damn van pink? The answer is YES!”

All in all, though, there was something exciting with driving through some unknown backwoods, or whatever it was supposed to be. Without having to use the whole 1989 Radio Shack catalog to be able to get there.

3 Likes

RK Series Racing; Pre-Race Camp; Part 2

After a brief bout of away-from-car activities with curious participants with either questionable looks, questionable behavior or both, Tim and Connor return to the car, greeting Constantin in the process.
They don’t get far, as the driver meeting is called out and the host team explains what ill be happening, just to be interrupted twice. The second disturbance was a rather flamboyant rally-style car, covering The Dione itself, the rear bench and Valentin further back in dirt.

Tim: [shouting across] “Good going, lads! Covering 8 people in dirt for some asshattery…”
Valentin: [mumbling] “Really?”

Valentin starts work on getting copious amounts of dirt brushed out of his vast haircut. Connor, meanwhile practically records what is said about the driver’s meeting, with both Tim and Constantin also paying attention. The first confusion starts to arise once the ring is explained and how it will teleport them back to Earth if the instructions are acted upon.

Tim: “Wait what? We’re leaving Earth?”
Constantin: “Seems like it… somehow… At least there seems to be an emergency shutoff… ring.”
Tim: “Not like it’s the first time. Last world with that GT racing stuff just felt like 90s America.”

They get back to following the driver meeting and the explanation of the rules, which seem perfectly sensible given the difference in tech between us and them. The same applies to the map reveal, given the context of interplanetary travel. Even Connor isn’t phased much by the theoretical impossibility of this ordeal physics-wise. When it comes to supplies, things start to get a little more interesting, as they did not have the time or materials to install a CB-Radio before getting here. Nor did they feel a need to, since the initial assumption did not take them as far away from Earth. Once the explanation is done with, they gather up behind the Dione, where Valentin was still occupied with his hairdo.

Tim: “So i take you two already know each other?”
Valentin: “Not really, since you never told me he’d be here…”
Tim: “Met him through some AMA thread on Reddit. Thought some more specialized survival skills might come in handy.”
Valentin: “That… is true.”
Tim: “Anyway, we probably should collect the ring and sort out the Radio stuff. Probably won’t have phone reception over there…”

Tim heads off towards the host team in order to collect the as-of-yet empty map, their emergency teleport ring as well as sorting out the radio rental service offered. Connor and Constantin are tagging along, while Valentin stays at the car, both uneasy at the sight of the humanoid-tiger/ wolf hybrids and also not done with clearing up dirt yet. The group of three approach Rukary:

Tim: “Well i heard you have some spare Radios we could borrow? We maaaay or may not need one. Also might as well get the Map and ring stuff sorted.”


@Madrias

2 Likes

Team Shift Happens

Team Information

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
A Grand Reveal / An Army of Soda Cans - Starting Party 8:30 AM
Drivers’ Meeting - Starting Party 9 AM



Shitbox Rally Starting Party, 9:15 AM Local Time

Rukari looked up as Tim asked him about a spare radio, the map, and the ring. “Nekasi, will just be one moment,” Rukari said, before grabbing the registration sheet and double-checking what they had written down. Grabbing four rings in the proper sizes, he handed them over to Tim, then handed him a folder containing a map, still currently invisible. He then looked to Malavera and yelled, “Mal, we need radio for this team!”

Malavera grimaced. “You don’t have to yell, Rukari,” Malavera grumbled, grabbing a radio off of the stack and handing it to Tim. “If the two of you need some help installing that, ask for Kaylie. She’s the one with the chrome left hand. I’d help, but my hands are too damn big, and, well, to be honest, I don’t want to break anything in your car. I come from a world with much higher gravity,” Malavera said.


@Elizipeazie

RK Series Racing; Pre-Race Camp; Part 3

Tim: “Thanks! We’ll head right on over since we don’t have proper equipment for electrical work…”

The group of three head over a few feet to Kaylie, who wasn’t hard to make out given the immense glare coming off the chrome arm in the Nevada sunlight…

Tim: [to Kaylie] “Err… it was said that you could help with wiring that thing up?”


@Madrias
imma leave this here for now. we might wanna plan the upcoming RP a bit more closely.

2 Likes

Team Mravolinski-Chitco

Team info: 2022 Shitbox Rally - Out of This World! (Entries Closed!) - #30 by MrdjaNikolen

As in almost any previous instance, this is reply to last part

Tow training with scent of dog piss

Chicota once again noted someone getting in middle of camp, hoping this will be more useful than previous occassion.
It was, indeed.
You can imagine that Chicota took advantage of sugar+tea+rum mix that was offered. Rukari had offered nice piece of advice on rum quality, although Chicota doesnt carry black powder.

Pi had also listened to what Malavera had to say, even tho she doesnt understand English.
Dont worry, she got it all translated by either me or Chicota-not really sure, doesnt matter in greater scheme of things.
She was excited about the fact she could engage in conversation with rest of camp due to rings.

Ofc she decided to see if this ring effectively serves as ultimate translation device by engaging in kinda conversation with…interestingly enough, Rukari.

“I can now talk to everyone here. I can now understand everything you lot say.”
Beast decided to demonstrate vast amount of languages he knows, out of which Pi can probably understand few due to ring and exactly none without.
Decided to leave some Crugandr language as last, so she could understand him in the end.
But sure, its nice being bilingual for first time in her life.

Chicota and dogs would be able to find some scientific sense in new addition to their outfits.
But they realized for first time that science doesnt necessarily apply to its fullest.
They checked the piece of paper they received and confirmed that atm its just a piece of paper
(You can prob guess that this is map given by hosts).

Also travelling to paralel universe isnt exactly big news, but the fact its controlled process turned out to be big one indeed.
Less technological advancement would also be big news, which kinda started worrying everyone.
Charging phones was dealt with, Mrdja’s music is on SD cards of his phone and his favourite mobile game can indeed work offline

VerBanka was also preparing for getting in new world.

It was decided that Pi could train a little bit about towing the vehicle, so after attaching some straps for her to use, she begun.
She needed to use quite a lot of strength to overcome inertia or even required the vehicle to not be in complete standstill.

Klimentol was behind the wheel, adjusting direction of vehicle to make sure it follows Pi and wouldnt accidentally crash into something or someone.
Aydar was very close to car, doing something, but seemed innocent enough.
Everyone they passed seemed to be first kinda taken aback with tower, but were smiling when attention would shift back to car, some doing full-on laughing.
Klimentol havent really understood reasoning for this strange behaviour and would investigate.

Aydar had parted ways with car tad bit before car returns in front of tent.

“YOU M%%%N, SUCH A%%HOLE!!!
I WILL HAVE MY REVENGE, PREFERABLY COLD!”

Yes, Klimentol finally noted that on front doors of vehicle was written:
^
||
||
IM
A
D%%K

Aydar had sprayed door with urine, then applied some sand to make out the lettering.
Klimentol decided to use closest equivalent to hose he had to spray down the sand and some of liquid he used also entered the cabin.

This was personal and next step was ofc to find the culprit who was very aware of being hunted down.
Klimentol had eventually found Aydar and ripped wonderful arc of liquid that would be directed at Aydar’s head.
Long-range encounter was in works and both of them demonstrated their skills in hosing down stuff on relative distance.

“Such childish behaviour”
"Well, you had BRILLIANT idea of spraying me down with urine. I needed to return the favour.
“You started with sand note on door”
“Cmon you gotta have some fun”
Needless to say, they did returned to normal terms afterwards…Shame we couldnt say same for smell that reeked of battle they waged.

Aware of that, they decided to try and find Rufus Willow-Wright from Wayfarers, preferably doing very specific activity.
Sure enough, Rufus was indeed cleaning himself.
After they watched him for few minutes, they went back to do the same, knowing this is not very pleasant but only way to kinda avoid smelling like piss.

Pi decides this is perfect time to notify them of some checks they need to do, more precisely if checking her and potentially repairing whatever kind of damage she happen to have.
Cleaning left for later, they ended up checking out our weirdest member’s health state.

2 Likes

Team Shift Happens

Team Information

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
A Grand Reveal / An Army of Soda Cans - Starting Party 8:30 AM
Drivers’ Meeting - Starting Party 9 AM
A Request for Help - Starting Party 9:15 AM



Shitbox Rally Starting Party, 9:30 AM Local Time

(Partly written by @Elizipeazie)

Kaylie set down her copy of Carburetors for Dummies as Tim called out to her, asking if she could help wire up the CB radio. “Of course. Let’s see, you guys are the ones with the Dione, right?”

When Tim nodded, Kaylie smiled. She took the boxed CB radio from him, opening it up and making sure everything was there before heading over to the Dione.

Tim: “Might as well ask since it’s not our equipment and breaking trying to get it in would be a dick move in my opinion.”

The other two are just stood there for now, Constantin contemplating why he even went to join a one man job as the third guy in tow, and Connor generically idling about.

Kaylie nodded. “Yeah, Mal wouldn’t be too happy if someone broke one of the radios trying to install it. I mean, he’s a good person, but, well, between you and me, he really doesn’t know his own strength.”

As she approached the Dione, she saw Constantin nearby, looking like he was lost in thought, and Connor standing next to the car so perfectly still that it was almost eerie. “You didn’t mention you had an android,” Kaylie said, looking at Tim for a moment, then back to Connor. Almost immediately, she spotted the crack in his right forearm. “With battle damage, as well. Bet you’ve seen some stuff,” Kaylie said to Connor, setting the CB radio box on the roof.

“So, once I’ve finished putting this radio in, you want me to see if there’s anything I can do for him? I’ve got spare parts for a Nemean-class combat-grade prosthetic, and I used to fix starships before my brother got us stranded out here,” Kaylie replied, opening the passenger side door of the Dione and climbing inside, grabbing the box off of the roof with her natural right hand.

Tim: “Yeah… Battle damage… definitly not a rage fit from a team member of a past race.”

Redwood remembered what was going on at the dealership lot back then. Connor’s unintentional sassiness made Tonsom lash out against him, landing a good hit against said arm in the process. The mentioning of an android also throws Constantin off-line, now scanning Connor top-to-bottom as well.

Constantin: “Jeez… AI has gone along much faster than i was aware of.”
Connor: “Restoring dexterity to the affected componentry would certainly help. Although compatible spare parts are not readily available, as i am part a pre-production trial-series.”

Connor calmly remarks, not exactly confident in getting any meaningful repairs done.

Kaylie chuckled as Connor mentioned that compatible spare parts weren’t readily available, holding up her own left hand. “Prototype. I understand the lack of spare parts. I’m sure we’ll manage to work something out,” Kaylie said, before using her left hand’s titanium claws to strip some insulation off of a ground wire so she could hook up the radio. “This is where things get to be a bit fun, and I do mean that in the sarcastic way,” Kaylie said, perching the CB radio on top of the dashboard as she grabbed a rubber glove and pulled it on over her left hand. “Found out the hard way back in the Lair that these fuckers have a grounded case, so when I grabbed the radio and tried to hook up the power lead, well… Let’s just say that the Bricksley over there got both of its batteries replaced after that little mishap.”

Now properly protected against accidentally shorting out the Dione’s electrical system, Kaylie stripped back a power lead, wired it into the radio, hooked up the car’s original radio antenna as the CB antenna, and then slid the unit into the dashboard where the factory radio once went. “There we go, that should be everything for the car.”

Kaylie got out of the passenger seat and looked at Connor’s arm. “So, what’s your current range of movement, and how limited is your strength with that arm?”

Constantin and Tim watch Kaylie with great interest, as she more or less is doing what Tim would have though of as well, only sort-of listening to what she is rambling on about.
Connor just goes though his diagnostics and speaks the results aloud, adding missing info as needed.

Connor: “Right Shoulder. Full mobility at 78% power. Right Elbow. Full mobility at zero power. Right Wrist. Limited mobility at zero power. Right hand. Full mobility at zero power. The latter three based on visual inspection as the affected component does not post correctly.”
Tim: “Well i never heard of that one being a thing…”
Constantin: “Spoken self diagnostics that actually work, compared to the crappy troubleshooter of WinDope 10… Neat.”

Valentin does notice and watches what is happening from “afar” (that is; 10 to 15 feet away from the car), avoiding direct contact out of fear.

Kaylie listened to Connor’s diagnostics, nodding slightly as she mentally processed each bit of it. “Most people I know wouldn’t run a component that couldn’t pass a power-on-self-test. So, you have full mobility, but no strength,” Kaylie said after thinking for a few moments.

She popped one of the covers off of her left arm, showing the high-torque electric linear actuators and fiber-optic sensor cables within, glowing faintly with sensor data moving at the speed of light. “Anything seem familiar, or are we working with two radically different kinds of technology here?” Kaylie asked.

Before Connor could really give an answer, Kaylie yelled out to her brother, Kayden, “Hey, Kay, get me the black duffel bag from inside the cab!”

Once Kayden had dropped off the bag and returned to his spot behind the charcoal grill, Kaylie opened it up and started removing items. “I brought the whole spare right arm in case I broke anything,” she said, stopping long enough to put the cover back in place on her left arm, "but I also brought supplies to fix Kayden’s powered armor. These are all external, designed to respond to an input and provide powered response. Between some nanotech armor panels, a few Nemean-class linear actuators, and an external interface device, we might be able to give you a slim-fitting powered exo-frame. Takes your low-torque, high-mobility and amplifies it.”

Upon gaining visibility into Kaylie’s arm, Both Tim and Constantin stare at it in awe, despite not having a clue as to what is in there and how it works. Even Valentin manages to get an, albeit crude, glimpse of the inner workings, which distracts him enough to make him ease up significantly.
Connor also takes a peek inside, taking note of the componentry, which doesn’t seem all too similar to what is used in his own construction.

Connor: “I am not exactly certain what you intend to do.”

He explains, taking the liberty of detaching his own, broken arm elbow-down with aid of the intact one by means of a sort-of quick-release system. On either stump, a set of hoses containing curious blue-ish liquid, some more basic looking connectors, as well as the clamp mechanism holding it in place is revealed. The arm itself turns a semi-glossy white upon removal and is almost fully covered in rather thin plating of that color. He then holds said arm up to Kaylie, as if trying to hand it to her.

Connor: “Maybe this helps in further diagnostics.”

Kaylie took Connor’s right arm in her own right hand, studying it closely. “Hydraulics?” she said, noting the quick-disconnect connectors. “Is it a fluid leak that’s causing your trouble? Because if that’s the case, I can get some hydraulic hoses and make a patch.” Still holding Connor’s disconnected right arm, Kaylie reached into the bag and removed a few pieces of powered armor frame, adjusting the sliding frame to the length of Connor’s forearm. “I mean, I can probably make this plan work, but it’s going to look like someone put you in an elbow brace.”

Kaylie grabbed a few more pieces, setting Connor’s arm on top of the Dione’s roof for a moment as she assembled the bare minimum of the armor frame to provide powered assistance to someone’s right arm, grabbed the control module and plugged it in, and made a few more mild adjustments to the frame she’d set up for Connor. She grabbed another set of spares and built the same frame up around her right arm, plugged a module in, then pulled on the armored glove which was a bit too big for her hand. After turning the module on, she ran it through her full range of motion, then said, “It’s like an exoskeleton. You provide a little movement, this does all the work.”

Kaylie turned off the module, then put the second spare armor frame back in the bag before handing Connor his arm back. “If that fluid’s particularly exotic, I don’t think I can just patch it, but using the armor frame, maybe you’ll have some strength.”

Connor intently watches Kaylie fiddling around with both his own arm and hers.

Connor: “I can confirm that the cause is not a leak in the circulatory system. The flu…”

Tim, in an attempt to be helpful, tries to word what Connor would have said in a way that would be more easily understood by humans. Or… whatever Kaylie was.

Tim: “As far as i know that line is part of what the bloodstream is for humans.”
Connor: “Accurate enough… A mechanical damage limiting signal transmission and bandwidth is the most probable cause.”

Connor takes that arm from the roof and puts it back where it belongs. The arm itself posts correctly as being the arm, though as described earlier, power supply for movement seems to be impaired.

Kaylie nodded. “Right, the fluid is important, but it’s not leaking,” Kaylie said, as Tim and Connor explained their parts of it. “I’ve seen you move it somewhat, so that’s a good sign that what I had in mind might just work.”

Kaylie continued making adjustments, occasionally stopping long enough to get a measurement of Connor’s upper arm before eventually getting things just right. "Okay, this goes on over your arm and all the way up to your shoulder, " Kaylie said, helping Connor put the armor frame on, making sure the elbow was aligned with Connor’s elbow to avoid any, as Kayden would often call them, ‘training injuries.’ Once the frame was in place, Kaylie connected the module and secured it up by Connor’s shoulder.

“Now, I’m going to turn this on. Be careful, the sensitivity can take a little getting used to,” Kaylie said. She turned the power on and stepped back out of arm’s reach just in case, remembering her first moments with the Nemean arm and how she’d nearly wrecked the medical bay when she got out of the hospital bed.

Connor mostly just lets the mounting process happen, not fighting it but also not doing much in aiding it. Once done, he awaits the device being turned on and for Kaylie to be clear of arms reach. After that, he cycles the signal which controls elbow movement. In a state of mild shock, he discovers that, while he already turned down signal power in anticipation, the module seems to expect the rather weak signal coming off of Humanoids. As such, the device goes from fully stretched out to maximum angle in what seems like an instant, imparting substantial momentum onto the remainder of Connor in the process. In reaction, all the others take a step back, being scared off by the unexpected movement speed.

Connor has to dial the signal strength down drastically to achieve a degree of control similar to what he is expecting. He then creates a system device tag flagging the module as an auxiliary Elbow actuator.
Soon after, movements seem to look harmless, if a bit rough on the fine end.

Kaylie chuckled. “You’ll get used to it,” Kaylie said, before grabbing the same armored glove she’d shown off before, removing the armor and taking care as she adjusted it to fit Connor’s hand and fingers. “This will give you some strength back in your hand, and give you back some grip strength. Before I plug these in, you’ll want to turn whatever signals you use down, because while there are hard end-stops, I don’t know if your range of motion and mine are exactly the same.”

Kaylie waited a moment for Connor to make his adjustments, then fitted the frame of the glove to the end of the armor frame before connecting the power and signal lines. This time, she didn’t stand back, instead watching to see if Connor had the full use of his hand.

“So, I learned this trick to test if I had full control of my left hand,” Kaylie said, fishing out a golden coin from her pocket, tossing it over to her left hand, and casually rolling it across her knuckles, the coin clinking against her chrome-plated titanium fingers. “Kayden taught me how to do it, took me two weeks to be able to do this. Twin Suns be damned if I know how he does it with his armor on,” Kaylie said, rolling the coin back over to her left thumb, which she snapped out to flick the coin back over to her right hand, where she then put it away.

Connor once again just held still as Kaylie made the glove fit as well as possible. In the process, he also followed instructions and preemptively dialed signal power waaay down to avoid damaging the hardware.

As Kaylie was pulling out a coin and started fiddling around with it, Connor knew exactly what she was doing. He normally used a very similar method as a means of calibration and preparation for the upcoming mission. But since his own coin was part of his original attire, that too was lost in preparation for the 24 hour clunker run. As such, he simply cycles the various fingers and the wrist do see where the limits of motion are. Tim also knew what Kaylie was on about:

Tim: “You can do Connor’s coin trickery as well?”

He excitedly asks as he fumbles around in his pockets to pull out a 2014 minted quarter-dollar coin, which is handed to Connor, expecting another amazing set of coin trickery. Connor accepts the coin and starts on the known left hand, performing very similar movements Kaylie just did, up until he attempts to fling it over to the right hand. However, Connor fails to catch the coin as it slides through a gap between the index and middle finger caused by the mismatch in hand size. He then goes off to collect the coin and hands it back to a rather disappointed Tim.

“Kayden taught me because he said it was good for making sure my new hand was working correctly,” Kaylie said. “Funnily enough, I can do that better left handed than I can right handed.”

When Tim handed Connor a quarter and Connor rolled it across the knuckles of his left hand, Kaylie smiled. As he tried to toss it over to his right hand, and it fell between the gaps, leaving Tim disappointed, however, Kaylie just shook her head, pulled out the Tigrilan Crown coin she’d messed with earlier, and handed that to Connor instead. “They’re a little bit thicker, a little larger,” Kaylie said. She smiled, understanding that he was likely to study the coin before trying to roll it over his fingers, and that while she knew the coins had an image of one of the many Tigrilan kings on it, the date stamped in the King’s crown (in this case being 5249), and on the tail side, the denomination written in their native language as being “One Golden Crown” with an image of the Twin Suns rising over a forest, she knew that it would be knew to Connor. She also was rather aware of how much it was worth, that if the coin’s monetary value were converted through elemental gold first, that one coin was worth $160, but she didn’t really care in that moment. If it worked to help Connor adjust, in her eyes, it was a very small price to pay.

Connor, as expected, takes the coin and closely examines it. He concludes that it must me either some highly valuable movie prop or a collectors item of sorts.

Connor: “Thank you”

He quickly remarks as he holds to coin to readjust the process to the added weight and inertia of the larger Tigrilan Crown. Then, he restarts the process on the left, again without much in the way of difficulty. The coin zipps over to the right and manages to stay there, although the catch still was rather sloppy by Connor near-perfect standards. The knuckle-rolling was also much slower on the right than on the left, indicating lack of training with the newly installed movement aid. The still stiff native wrist joint may also play a part. Tim and Constantin are stood there, smiling in delight at the fact that Kaylie managed to, at least sort of, fix Connor’s woes. Valentin meanwhile lost interest and is digging about the trunk, cleaning up some wiring visually and playing some Tetris with whatever is back there to conserve space.
Once done with the procedure, which has taken a little more than a minute rather than 20 seconds, he holds up an open palm containing Kaylies coin.

Connor: “I appreciate your assistance in restoring partial mobility.”
Tim: “Absolutely! Thanks a lot for helping!!”

Constantin nods in a respectful manner, also showing his appreciation for the work done.

“Not a problem,” Kaylie said, picking up the heavy duffel bag with her left hand, slinging the strap up onto her metal shoulder. “Keep the coin, I have plenty of them. I mean, I could go bother Malavera if you want a Galactic Standard Credit, but they’re about the same size, and annoyingly, they’re not round. Eleven-sided coins,” she added. “If you guys need my help in the Rally, let me know. I’m getting better at fixing internal combustion engines.”

Kaylie wandered back over to the Bricksley, propping herself back up on the tailgate and going back to her book, which was going into detail about vacuum secondaries.

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Machinas Con Passione’s Shitbox Adventures, Part 2 - At Least We Don’t Have to Shit in a Box.

Shitbox Rally Starting Party - 10:AM Local Time.
Machinas Con Passione. It’s a marque known for many things. Things such as a flagrant disregard for any standard of common sense, and for Giacomo forgetting things that anybody with a half functioning brain should have thought of. For example? Giacomo had packed exactly no food provisions. It was this lack of food provisions that led to the current predicament that Giacomo found himself in, a munity.

“Okay, so let me get this straight. The NICK JONAS CASSETE RIP was put on a higher priority than FOOD AND BASIC NECESSITIES?”
It seemed that Maria had checked the provisions to see that they were, put nicely, kind of stupid.

“I’m more amazed you got her to talk in the first place. She doesn’t say much other than “ZZZ” back at the clinic.” Dover remarked. Seems like he wasn’t terribly bothered by the prospect of eating dirt for the next few weeks.

“Honestly, I can’t tell between me and Giacomo who the bigger clown is. Sure, he’s… Um. Giacomo. But I agreed to this crap. I used to drive for Hyundai’s factory team man!” Thibault, meanwhile, was in the middle of an existential crisis.

“I think you guys are overlooking the great opportunity we have here.” McChad, cool as ever, proceeded to plunge his hand into the sand, and dug up a few beetles for a snack. Upon witnessing this, Maria began to regret being born in the first place.

“Ok. Alright. So maybe we make a few mistakes in preparing. We should look on the bright side! We have a Mustang pulling us!” Giacomo, ever the people person, tried to rally his crew together by looking on the bright side. And, all things considered, Mustang engines are pretty cool. Everyone loves a good V8, right?
McChad meandered over to the engine, popped the hood, and gave the engine a once-over.

“Giacomo. This is the V6. Nobody likes a V6 Mustang. It’s like if you had ice cream but without the cream.” And alas, Giacomo’s last thread of goodwill was eradicated.
Maria pulled Dr. Dover to the side.
M: “Look. I know we need to lay low for a bit, but I think I would prefer whatever murder methods the mob has planned for us, than to spend an entire rally with… that guy.

As she pointed him out, Giacomo had already begun harassing other teams for their food supply, while Thibault followed his nose to Team Slow’s Hot Dog barbeque.
Dr. Dover, however, had resigned himself to his fate a long time ago, and was noticeably mentally checked out.

D: “Look. It’s not so bad right? I mean, we get a free vacation. That’s pretty rad!”
M: “No, seriously, I would prefer to be waterboarded. I’m about to steal the van and get the hell outta here.”
D: "Waterboarded? You think there’s any water around here? Cause if there is, waterboarding is pretty low on my list of priorities, but, y’know, you do you I guess.
Alas, Maria realized she may be the only person on this team with an IQ higher than 1.

M: “You know what, forget it. I can catch a whiff of some pot from here. I’m gonna try to get high off of the secondhand smoke.”
D: “Oh please, I have better stuff than mere pot. I’m Benjamin Dover, M.D!”
M: “Like?”
D: “Eh… Only Morphine. I feel like getting high on all of it without at least being in a life threatening situation would be a waste. You go on and try to get high.”

And so, Machinas Con Passione have split up! You’d think they would have done this before going on the multiple hour long road trip to the middle of nowhere. Oh well. They’re going to make up before the rally starts anyway.

Part 2 - Fin

Oh my! The definitely not overly exploited trope of the main characters splitting up before something important happens in the plot! How horrific!

Anyway, if somebody has the patience to want to interact with the only team with a collective iq of 40, consider the green flag waved, it’d be pretty fun for me to see how MCP would interact with other teams.

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