The rules say no AWD. Does this mean that 4WD is also banned?
AWD is allowed, just not for mid-engine cars.
What about 4WD?
Is there mid-engine 4WD?
I know for front-engine, there’s 4WD, and that is allowed.
Snork’s Tuners
History
Among the many teams contesting in Sh!tbox Rally 2024, Snork’s is a newcomer born to jump head first into any pool of opportunity, so when one engineer mentioned a division of budget motorsport to the lead engineer, Snork Florenski, it was decided that they must participate.
Snork’s is a performance tuner and automaker of low volume sports cars, one of many across the globe, though its unlikely any other shares the history of a house troll having a dream to escape his cozy life in a rural Finnish valley to make cutting edge cars. Though Snork has been well off with his growing business since he began in the late 60s, he’s never been fully satisfied; there’s always room for improvement, more power, more publicity, and he has frequently relied on motorsports to achieve both.
For most of Snork’s Tuner’s history, the company has had one specialty; take the foundation of cheap cars and turn them into prestigious, high quality vehicles, and there’s nothing cheaper than the automotive scourge born from behind the iron curtain, Otelensk. It’s a challenge to turn garbage on wheels into something fast and reliable, almost as difficult as making a worse quality car than what Otelensk churns out, but it’s a challenge Snork’s Tuners has become fit to tackle, so it was almost as if Snork’s was made for this rally challenge.
The Team
Snork Florenski
The lead engineer, and the only member who does not even vaguely resemble a human. No, he is a house troll standing at stout 4’9", having short, velvety white fur all over, a rather rotund body, a long tail ending in a tuft, stubby legs, flat feet, and generally looking like if a bipedal hippo was a marshmallow, as most house trolls look. Despite beginning his career many decades ago, Snork is hardly any worse for wear. While every product Snork sells is guaranteed to be consistently high quality, Snork himself can shift from slow & calculated to spontaneous at a moment’s notice, hence his decision to round up a racing team before getting a full grasp of the competition.
Madds Makkenen
The assistant engineer, and the son of Snork’s first business partner. While Snork kept his big snout to the grindstone for decades, Madds’ father would eventually grow too old to keep up with the ambitious troll. So, it would be destiny that Madds himself took up the mantle of maintaining the tuning business, though as a young adult and the youngest on the team, Madds has the same excitable maturity Snork had way back when, though he has never let his enthusiasm get the best of him.
Anton Larsson
The driver, an experienced touring car and rally privateer. Although podium placements are not a common sight for Anton, he races fast and clean enough to afford to keep coming back year after year. That does not mean he is some random shmuck who has been plucked to go racing in Sh!tbox Rally 2024, for as a fellow Finn Anton has been a publicity boon for Snork’s, as the workshop has often funded Anton’s racing endeavors, building race spec cars for him in hopes that a Snork’s could take a manufacturer’s victory. As a fellow underdog, there is no other driver Snork trusts more than Anton.
Eddie “Fourth Wheel” Millton
The Co-Driver, and one of the most talented designers at Snork’s. An English chap who found himself at Snork’s originally as a test driver, but has quickly become one of Snork’s most crucial assets. It takes just a minute inside any car for him to find an intimate familiarity like it’s the only one he’s ever known. It is a compliment to say his gut is smarter than his head, because through gut feeling Eddie can tell a car’s exact balance, downforce, drag, and whether the engine can handle any more boost. If anything were to go wrong during the rally, there’s no one better suited to handle the problem than Eddie.
The Build Process
As a busy little workshop, there are almost always a few old stock models in storage waiting to be reborn as worthy machines, most of them Otelensks from decades past, but there was one that showed promise, being the closest to a decent car, the compact family sedan, Otelensk Trisky. How much did they pay for this preowned FF econobox back in the 80s? Well, the team would rather bank on plausible deniability, saying “It couldn’t have been much, just look at it!” than to actually go into the records to see just how little more money they could sink into their chosen chariot. So, after installing somewhere in the ballpark of $1500 worth of new parts, Snork’s Tuners proudly submits the Snork’s Trisky Le’Mon.
Like every Snork’s car, this 1 of 1 tune needed a new paint job from the original drab brown, and a new chrome badge on the bonnet, but that’s it for aesthetic additions, except for Madds stenciling the brand name and car number on either side “to make it more like a race car”.
The first thing to go was the engine, as the Trisky’s original aluminum 4 banger would turn to dust at the mere thought of having to make competitive power. What’s powering the front wheels now is a 3 liter Muldar V6, a chunk of mid 70s iron crap, but by god was it the best crap Otelensk ever made as it has been dropped into every truck and van Otelensk would make since, even keeping up with the times as later generations adopted fuel injection. This would be far from the first time Snork’s has given a Muldar block new pistons or a turbo, but for the sake of reliability the boost has been tuned down to make a respectable 219hp & 262ft*lbs.
That turbo upgrade is where most of the money went, meaning Snork’s had to cheap out with almost everything else, like this bolt on plastic scrap for a spoiler. “It’s not efficient, but it keeps the light rear end down, though the tool box and new fuel tank are already doing that,” Eddie proclaimed.
Though there wasn’t much to tear out from the interior to save weight, Snork’s still gutted what was there to gut out, keeping only the radio for communication. The front seats were replaced with a pair of the plenty bucket seats in stock in the workshop, and where the rear bench was there’s now a fuel tank bolted to the chassis holding somewhere in the ballpark of 30 - maybe 40 - liters, plus a pair of spare tires.
Now, about the antenna and flag mounted to the roof. This is the result of Snork misinterpreting the rules regarding dimensions and fuel tank limits. Originally it was just the antenna that was rewired to the roof, believing that any means to exceed a height of 2 meters would permit the usage of a 50 liter fuel tank, and as a newcomer Snork believed this rally could be anything from Monte Carlo to Dakar, so if running out of fuel was a possible issue being a B class size while maintaining an A class pace was a no brainer! That is until the team realized that antennas are excluded from the dimensions, so a flag “for spotting and safety” was added, which also is not strictly necessary to install a large fuel tank. That was not a happy day for Snork’s Tuners.
Besides the turbo, the other major expense for their Trisky Le’Mon was tires. Specialty made rally wheels were not an option, so it was a hard choice between all-terrains and sports-compounds. After getting a tip (reading the invitation top to bottom again) they settled on fitting the car with sports-compounds by default while storing a pair of all-terrains on the car’s roof just in case the roads get loose, and another pair of sports-compounds behind the front seats. The steel wheels themselves aren’t designed for Triskys, being a tad wider, but they were the most plentiful and therefore cheapest option while having high grip treads.
After all those installations, including tweaks to the stock suspension and new brake pads, the team was running low on money and time, so Snork’s had a difficult choice to make for the last upgrade; install a roll-cage, or address the open differential. Safety, or speed. Installing an LSD would definitely push them over the 2 grand limit, so they cheaped out one last time by finding a manual locking diff from an Otelensk truck, and just prayed no disaster would strike.
This would be the car Snork’s Tuners would race with. There was room for improvement, but there’s only so much one can do with so little.
The Finalized Car
Snork’s Tuners will compete in Sh!tbox Rally 2024 using a modified 1982 Otelensk Trisky which has been left in storage for years after being acquired second-hand. The original engine has been swapped for an Otelensk Muldar Mid Block, upgraded with a turbo designed in house. The two sets of wheels, totalling 6 sports-compounds and 2 all-terrains, are aftermarket, with the all-terrains being ordered specifically for the Trisky Le’Mon. Bolted onto the trunk lid is a plastic spoiler, and a toolbox is tied down in the trunk. The back seats have been torn out to make room for a 35 liter fuel tank and space for two spare wheels, while the front seats have been replaced with bucket seats built in house. Brake pads in the front have been replaced, as was the open differential with a manually lockable diff from an even older Otelensk truck. Finally, the Trisky Le’Mon was given a new coat of paint, a few decals, and chrome badging, as well as an unnecessary relocation of the radio antenna and additional flag.
Snork's Thoughts
When the lead engineer was asked if the car was within budget, he confidently answered, “Of course! You don’t think we’re here to trample the competition with a cheating car, do you? We’re not here just to win - frankly the fact we’ve built off a car as notorious as a chiseled brick badged by Otelensk probably dooms our chances of winning. We’re here to make connections, build our brand, prove that I’m running a company that can turn a peasant’s carriage into a proper car. Now about money, most enthusiasts would have to pay a lot - relative to this rally - just to get their paws on the bare minimum rust bucket, with swapping engines or diffs being a pipe dream, but an independent tuning company like what I own only has material costs to worry about by using tools and parts we already own. Now, we can agree to disagree, but I consider using up some of our pre-existing stock to put towards the car is, how would you put it… calculated business expenses, and not costs concerning the competition limit. Excluding the all-terrain tires and brake pads… and the fuel tank, and - hahaha - the flag, nothing was bought for the purpose of making a budget rally car. And I’m sure we’re not the only team to be hauling spare parts on the roof or in the trunk, which I also don’t think pushes the car’s value above two grand anyway. Like I said, it’s still ninety percent Otelensk, a car for people with the budget better oriented to a bike, and can stand to wait five years to be approved to own anything with four wheels.”
Snork was then questioned about the team’s strategy for the rally; “Since this is our rookie season, we’ll be playing it safe to start, letting our drivers get used to the car and the lands before any wear challenges their adaptability. My main concern is tire wear; sooner or later we’ll have to push the car to its limits, and that’ll mean the car’s tires will likely be worn down to slicks, hence an extra pair of sports tires, and just in case there’s a gravel stage in the mix, our Trisky will wear all-terrains on the front to not lose our grip advantage. As for other reliability issues, heh, isn’t that everyone’s problem? I’m sure the Trisky will get to the end on its own four wheels as long as Anton doesn’t bin it, but he’s a naturally defensive driver on the track, he doesn’t tend to take risks when there’s a long run to consider.”
The Interceptors
The people
Jeremias Klackers, 38, from Rosendorf, Gasmea
Jens Mai, 35, from Rosendorf, Gasmea
Richard Hammersbach, 32, from Willburg, Gasmea
The car
1989 Mara Kavaler 5.0 Interceptor
Delivered to the Archanan state just before the fall of the Closed Curtain in 1990, the car has never seen official duties. Jens has bought the car for cheap from a used car dealer across the river in Tenelova a few years ago and spent some time on it restoring it.
The context in a nutshell
TBA as soon as I get sufficient inspiration to write the first episode
They remind me of New Kids, lol. Should have had a green Manta.
VERY MUCH PRE-PROLOGUE
REPRINT FROM TRAFIKJOURNALEN ISSUE #22 1979
FEVER VANTASIES
Christer Lundmark’s IP Icarus panel van shows that even vehicles generally overlooked by the public can become show winning custom cars.
Asian cars haven’t been much of a success among the custom car crowd. They are practical, sells for competitive prices and have a reputation to work rather well. But Christer Lundmark proves that they can be so much more. Especially since his 1971 IP Icarus have been fetching some prizes lately.
“I was originally looking for a Volvo Duett to make something fun out of”, Christer says. “But the same amount of money could buy me this 1971 IP Icarus, so I thought why not? There’s no question which one that is more up to date, at least.”
It should be said that the Icarus was by no means in pristine condition by then. Being used as a delivery vehicle in the hectical Stockholm traffic had taken its toll, with both dings and rust showing up more or less everywhere on the boxy body.
“Yes, I had to start with straightening out dents and welding up the sills and rear arches”, Christer says. “Lots of small spots were sandblasted, and the front fenders were replaced with brand new ones. While I was at it, I decided to ditch the dented stock grille and bumper and replace them with custom parts.”"
A tubular front bumper has replaced the stock unit. The spider web grille was done by brazing together chromed water piping. The hood ornament is actually original, and is said to symbolize the wax wings of Icarus. Small round indicators replaced the grille mounted stock ones.
The van craze is strong in the United States, and the interest have reached Sweden. But not everyone wants to pay the high prices for something like a VCV Dur-A-Van, which does not mean that you can’t work with what you have. Stuff dound in high dollar US builds have also been finding the way into this IP.
“I decided to cut out the side panels for porthole windows that were bought from Roger’s Custom”, Christer says. “The tailgate was shaved from the chrome trim and backup lights, which were replaced by what is actually fog lights mounted under the bumper. Now you can see where you are reversing at night!”, Christer says with a laugh. “A flip up glass sunroof was also installed, before the car was sent for painting.”
An airbrushed black jaguar is watching you from a gloss black background. Christer says that metalflake, which probably most people would have choosen, isn’t his thing.
From a boring white van with black steel wheels with lost hubcaps, it was transformed into a black beauty, with the name of the van, “Jungle Fever”, being painted on the sides, along with a black jaguar. Polished Shelby Slotmag wheels on meaty tyres gives it an aggressive stance, especially with the air shocks in the back pumped up to max. The side pipes are actually legal.
“The requirements says that they outlet has to be behind the last opening door or window”, Christer says. Since the van lacks opening rear doors or side windows, it is totally OK to let them end in front of the rear wheels, even though it has been hard to convince the police sometimes.
The dashboard is largely kept stock, albeit with the faux wood on the dashboard from an Icarus DX. However, the simple vinyl interior was reupholstered in gold coloured velour. A wood steering wheel tops it all off.
So far, so good, small details like a sun visor over the windshield, marker lights on the roof and bullet style mirrors tops it all off. But no custom van is complete without a matching interior. The passenger compartment looks familiar to anyone that has ever been in an Icarus, spare for the gold coloured velour, and almost obligatory aftermarket steering wheel. In the cargo area, things are a little bit different. Button tucked panels in the same kind of velour, hardwood floor, minibar, couch and even a small TV, almost impressive considering that there’s not that much space in the back of an Icarus van.
“It is by no means comfortable to sit and watch TV in that couch”, Christer admits. Mostly it is just for show, but when it is as beautiful as in this Icarus, who cares?
The brass lights are from an old horse drawn carriage, but now converted to electric light bulbs.
Originally, the Icarus van has a rather boring 4 cylinder pushrod unit. However, the sedan and wagon versions could be had with a much more exciting 2.4 litre OHC six cylinder. Christer managed to find one from a low mileage, crashed car in the junkyard, but then the trouble started.
“It would not pass safety inspection to start with”, Christer says with a sigh. “Proving that the four cylinder van had the same chassis components as the six cylinder passenger cars took some work, but with papers I got from the IP importer, they finally let it pass through.”
To further spice up things, the head got ported and milled, and a camshaft and exhaust manifold from IMOS, which is the factory motorsports division of IP, was installed. The intake manifold, now crowned with a 390 cfm Holley 4 barrel, is not from IMOS, though.
“I have no idea what brand it is”, Christer says, “It somehow appeared in the classifieds in the newspaper, and the guy selling it had no idea where it came from, appears like he got it with a bunch of other stuff that he imported from the US, for reasons unknown. It works well, though.”
So that’s how to make an old IP panel van into a show winner. Christer himself, though, is planning to sell Jungle Fever to make room for new projects.
"I caught the van fever for real, he says. "So, now I am looking for a VCV Dur-A-van as my next project.
Christer, and many other people have dreams about US vans. But we think that Jungle Fever shows that working with what you have can give you just as much fun. Keep this in mind when you see cars you think looks boring out in the streets. Anything can be a diamond in the rough.
This was 45 years ago now…
The times are constantly changing…
less than 48h to go
Yesderday, Chanty and Thomas finally fixed everything on the car that could possibly make them strand on the roadside. Nevertheless, the car is still far from being in good condition, but on the other hand, it was almost for free, and Chantys budget was very limited, in fact, most spare parts used were from Thomas shelves who constantly told his daughter that this is not a gift and needs to be put back in storage after the event, but on the other hand, Thomas would of course forget about that if his daughter wanted to keep the Legacy if it survives, as seeing Chanty smile softens the hard heart of the old grumpy mechanic.
Argh, that was hard work. Everything hurts. How are you doing that at your age?
Did you call me old? You´re mean. Anyway, we have so much to do that I just can´t afford to rest, and machines constantly in use are usually well-lubricated and always at optimal temperature, hah!
You didn´t even have time to visit a hairdresser… Let me fix that for you.
Nah! Looking at your hair, I better don´t.
Dad! Come on. Let me do something for you for once.
Chanty came home late and was totally exhausted. With sore muscles, she had trouble to even get out of bed. And Jan woke her up quite harsh because he played video games and screamed at losing a race.
Jan! Use your headphones! That vacuum cleaner sounds from your game are annoying. What are you doing this early playing games on the PC?
YOU AND YOUR FATHER TOLD ME I DRIVE TOO SLOW! So I play racing games to get used to speed. Yeah, but I will use the headphones, you are right.
You think gaming helps?
There was an experiment when they put sim racers on a racetrack and they were surprisingly good, I saw that on YouTube so it must be true. Anyway, I will buy some groceries for our trip.
Nah, I can do that. You buy only stuff I don´t want.
Later that day, Chanty went to the supermarket, buying tons of her favourite energy drink she is addicted to. But then Thomas spotted her.
CHANTAL JOLINA NILFERT! GROUND CONTROL TO CHANTY! HEY! Ah, put down your headphones and be aware of your surroundings! Why are you even having two of them? And that damn plush elk! Isn´t it enough that you bring it to work every time?
Its so simple. If one´s battery is empty, I have another one. You know I can´t be in crowded areas because I have anxiety, and without music I am lost. And Rudolph is my emotional support animal. I never leave the house without him!
Stop drinking that poison, or do you want to have cardiac problems like me?
Dad, looking at YOUR cart, I don´t think you should tell me what to buy… really!
Eeeeeh… that is something TOTALLY different!
Later, Thomas picked some spare parts to take with them, as he knows the weak points of a Primus Legacy well and doesn´t want to be stranded in an unknown area without having the right means to fix the car.
An oil pump, a fuel pump, an alternator, spark plugs, a valve cover and head gasket, a steering pump, a … eeh… what´s that? Ah, yes, two ignition coils… and I don´t even have something for that troublesome transmissions, I guess I will tell Jan to limit Chantys luggage… I won´t drive without my beer rations. Anyway, where are these weird kiddos again? Meeting is in two hours!
In fact, they are still struggling to pack their stuff.
I love you, but your father will kill us with this amount of luggage. Why are you taking almost your whole wardrobe with you, like in Sweden? Thomas threw six and a half tantrums, and now we have only one car and it isnt even a wagon.
You know I need to change my outfit if I don´t feel like it anymore. And if that´s every few hours… it is how it is.
Please… dont make my life harder as it already is…
OK, ok… I will look through it and leave some of it here… but only with protest.
Better your protest than that of Thomas, really.
They arrived last minute, and packed the stuff into the Legacy, then drove the car to the coordinates written in the e-Mail, a lonely field near the garage of Thomas. They turned off all electronic devices as they should and waited. 10 minutes to go. Thomas, who was totally tired from working overtime every day fell sound asleep in the driver seat, when suddenly a garish light hits them all in the face.
Jan and Chanty woke up in a very weird environment. They exit the Primus and are totally shocked that they are in an UFO! A scared alien runs towards them.
quitouwieotdge. orwghgjsdergr. bliiiiiiiiiiiii! plerglrqwkljr€.
Excuse me, what?
Chanty, that´s extraterrestrian. They don´t sound to pleased, we better go back in the car and try to sleep.
TRQWWIIIII QUIIIOOUIOUI! JKH EQTWRMHG!
Damn, remind me to never again buy weed from Orlando, really, that stuff is scary!
YOU BOUGHT IT FROM YOUR EX? I THOUGHT YOU HAVE NO MORE CONTACT!
Relax, it´s just business. I only love you. More than my life.
Oh, good that you tell me every day how much you hate your life.
Jan, pleeeeease! I am scared, please don´t be mean to me now. You can hate me when we are there…
DRIVER AGGRESSION
To make it transparent for others, I opted for 2. The reason is that all three have very different styles of driving. Jan is very slow and wants to keep it safe, Thomas is very experienced, but that tends to make him faster than he should be, as his experience dims his attention to risk. Chanty on the other hand drives exactly how her mood is, and that swings constantly between being afraid to drive faster than city speed and driving like a total maniac.
Collaborations / The Nilferts in your RP
If you think including the, well, what @Knugcab called “German Freakshow” would make your RP funnier, feel free to do it. Please give me a brief idea of what you are up to first via PM, not that I am strict there, but I want to make sure my people act both within the challenge rules and stay in-character.
Team Chitco
Part 0: It begins (again)
Amanda has met some "people"
Our lovely annoyance has decided to make the life for herself and life she would enjoy doing.
Her choice of car was mostly decided on by fact she lacked some substantial amount of money, so it was whatever she could get her hands on while still being decently suited for the job
This is her 1990 Bricksley Grand Warden Fleet V6. While it is also modified by me a little bit, i shall note its creation of Madrias
In its life before junkyard on which Amanda had met it, it had 240 cubic inches of V6 as indicated by its badging
Amanda will happily point out to badging in question to confirm she has NA V6 under hood because she can and so far, noone was either interested or dare to question her wisdom
Also…noone else apart from Amanda herself knows what she bought: furthest they know is that car is big, black and probably was used by government services judging by nudge bar (or Amanda installed that herself).
This was one of vehicles that will park at parking lot in what English language can best describe as “middle of nowhere”.
Amanda exits the car, observes the surroundings and decides that this is truly a beautiful night, which was followed by her strolling into run-down shop parking belonged to.
At about same time, certain group of people had listened to radio around one of their vehicles
Radio reported as such:
Good evening, listeners. We bring you urgent news from across the nation. Authorities are on high alert tonight following a string of brazen armed robberies targeting shoppers in parking lots. Reports indicate that a sizable group of armed individuals is orchestrating these attacks, striking unsuspecting victims just moments after they exit stores with their purchases."
“These criminals are said to be targeting easy prey, preying on individuals who appear vulnerable or distracted. Shoppers are urged to remain vigilant and exercise caution, especially in dimly lit or isolated parking areas.”
“Local law enforcement agencies are working tirelessly to apprehend these perpetrators, but the public is reminded to take extra precautions when out and about. If you witness any suspicious activity, do not hesitate to contact authorities immediately.”
“Stay tuned to this station for further updates on this developing story. Your safety is our priority.”
-Look at me mommy im famous
(cackling maniacally)
-This was a good idea after all…we are getting richer by the minute!!
-Indeed it was great idea: shame those five bitches werent really able to capitalise on it
Defeated by a bare-handed girl to such extent some of your bones get broken?
Sounds like you arent that much tougher than such prey…
-Hey Dick, care to stroll around and find us next target?
One member has indeed responded
-Fuck you too
His stroll has not yielded any results in this mostly empty lot until he laid eyes on Amanda and her ride
-Seems we might be scoring tonight some catch and then some… were words he used before denoting female and her car
-Bricksley Grand Warden you say? In black?
Spotter thought a bit, until realisation of what his mate might be on about struck
-Relax…I highly doubt any policeman or agent would use this gen nowadays.
I know it very well: it was produced from 1987 to 1995
Good cars but out of service by mid 2000s
-Im convinced…we will wait to strike
And so they did
Amanda had appeared fair bit of time later with shopping trolley that required to be half-pushed, half-carried to somewhat function due to its miserable condition.
Upon sight of girly figure moving all alone group of robbers made their move
-Hello there. We see you have lot of trouble with that…care to allow us to help you with it?
-I can manage on my own.
He and his friends pull out their guns
-That was never an option. You either give us your money and what you just bought…or we are taking it by force
-Cease your operations while you still can
Robbers chuckled
-The fuck you think you are, to dare thinking you can face us?
They all got to the Bricksley.
Amanda had left shopping cart besides the car
-Shall we proceed?
They proceeded and fight happened
-911, what is your emergency?
-I went by this shop couple of minutes ago and saw very sad scene of some badly hurt people in their parking lot. You might need to get some police and ambulance there: i think i saw some weapons as well
-Calm down, we will gladly handle it
-Thats all i wanted to hear.
Call ended
Engine has became tad bit louder and speed at which it travels had increased
Amanda had found pace she was happy with and continued on
Worming the way through a hole
-How do we get us and the car there?
-I have an idea. If you may proceed…
Suddenly, almost all of Team Chitco was hypnotised and knocked out.
-Wakey, wakey sleepyheads. We arrived.
-What the hell…we are on the ground…how?
-Managed to use some wormholes to make our way here.
-What??
-Anyway…we shall go, they arent very likely to wait for us indefinitely
With that, everyone present packed into a car and had decided to go towards start line in Pahrump, Nevada.
-Everyone got their stuff packed?
-Too late for that question…but yes, we packed everything. Just so you know in case you get hurt…if i recall correctly…you can go and fuck yourself
-Hehe, cant say im surprised…dont worry about me atleast.
-What do we do when he meets Natalia?
Bong looked at Pi quizzically
-What do you mean by that, she isnt going to participate.
-She could decide to hang out on start line with us. Besides, she and Takaraya might want to have little bit of intimate time before he goes
Pause
-However, i shall find that none of them is truly dangerous face-to-face. They can attack and cause fair bit of damage by doing so, but are unlikely to do that just because they deem someone annoying.
-Unlike Amanda last year, we are not picking fights with anyone
Realisation hit.
-Shit…if she gets to there before us nobody would be there to keep her in check
-It will be fine…she had learned that they arent weak by any measure
And with that, journey continues
Team and the vehicle
Members (there are four of them)
- Pi Chitco
- Andrea Chitco
- Bong Chitco
- Jakasxandra Chitco
Vehicle: Well i have zero idea how visible it will be on video but there is walkaround video of sorts
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=__RZgZ5HnSA
As was the case in earlier years its Kontir Cunningham from 1995
✦ The Bois
The bois are back and fluffier than ever. In the interim between rallies, they’ve both obtained fursuits of their fursonas. Ze’ev is much more comfortable being out and about in his, due to having more cosplay experience and having made his from scratch. Storm is a bit more awkward, but still enjoys the chance to be a fluffy wolf. They’ve leaned fully into their status as one of the furry teams this time and have some plans for themed repairs and shenanigans in camp. X3
Ze’ev Wulfrith
✦ Age: 27
✦ Height: 5 ft 8 in (171 cm)
✦ 225 lbs
✦ Auburn, waist length hair
✦ Storm blue eyes
✦ Fashion Designer
✦ Libra
✦ Sona Name: Storm Wulfrith
✦ Sona Species: Wufsky
Ze’ev Wulfrith, also known as Z to his friends, is a fashion designer by trade. He currently works at one of the more well known fashion companies in the midwest while also managing his own tailoring and boutique commissions on the side. This is where the team name comes from. He has some rather eclectic tastes and is more than willing to put in the effort and time to make unusual choices work. He’s relatively introverted, but get him on one of his preferred topics he’ll talk your ear off. He enjoyed the whole experience last year and feels more comfortable being himself and his furry self around the main teams. X3
Storm Breedlove
✦ Age: 26
✦ Height: 6 ft 2 in (187 cm)
✦ 210 lbs
✦ Light blonde, shoulder length hair
✦ Blue hazel eyes
✦ Auto mechanic
✦ Scorpio
✦ Sona Name: Shade
✦ Sona Species: Wolf
Storm breedlove is the co-owner of a auto repair and restoration shop in the pacific northwest. He’s a bit more outgoing than Z, but falls squarely into the aloof, silent cool guy stereotype most of the time. He’s a massive dnd nerd and isn’t afraid to just brutally murder someone in his favorite games. Storm is the more mechanically inclined of the two, with a good amount of practical engineering knowledge and an eye for craftsmanship. He has a bit of military experience, despite being discharged for injuries he had prior to enlisting. Storm is fiercely loyal to Z, who brings out his golden retriever energy, due to them bonding so deeply at a young age. He’s very excited to be back driving this year and having less stress with a more stable and repairable car. He hopes that him and Z have an actual chance at being in the top this year too.
✦ The Car
The bois have gone with something a lot different this time. They were a bit too cautious with the Aethers last year due to them both being restoration jobs they did themselves. Nether Z nor Storm want that level of stress this year. They’ve instead gone with a much safer, much easier to ride hard choice. This 2009 Hiyunzari Quartz Castella was a lucky find at the Goodwill auto auction they went to to scout out a car for this year’s rally. While on the outside it may look like an amalgam of 1930s shooting brake and modern compact, it’s a quality built Japanese machine with a thrilling pedigree. A Hiyunzari Quartz is a small, economical, driver focused sportscar that has fascinated the JDM tuning scene for decades and makes for both a cheap cup racer and drift missile. The Quartz Castella is a factory built conversion kit to cater to those who want a retro(or in this case, vintage) look while retaining the reliability and driving characteristics of the modern sportscar. Hiyunzari extends out the front section of the Quartz to fit the '30s design proportions and then drapes the majority of the car in a lightweight fiberglass shell. This lets them craft the intricate curves of a bygone era without the expense. The Faolan Industries example, which the bois have taken to referring to as the Countess, isn’t a pristine car, but has as minimal wear and tear as you can expect from a car with 115k miles on it in the Midwest. There’s some underbody surface rust and minor cracking in some of the fiberglass. The IS28-DE i6 under the hood fairs much better having been untouched by tuning shitheads. All it has needed to be road trip ready was a fresh battery and oil change, the rest of the usual maintenance refresh being done at 100k miles by the previous owner. The bois hope that they’ll be able to run the Countess hard through each stage and snuggle up in the back at every campsite without having to repair things too often.
Specs
✦ 2.771 L DOHC i6 With VVT-I
✦ 246.1 horsepower @ 5900 RPM
✦ 230.8 Ft-Lb of torque @ 4800 RPM
✦ 967.5 Kg
✦ 6 Speed Manual
✦ 44.7 MPG combined
✦ 16 in Advan RCIII rims (235/45R16s front, 275/35R16s rear)
✦ 5.34 second 0-60
✦ 186 mph top speed(electronically limited)
Team
Jace-Tirin Harynn “JT”
Born 2002, D’Auraktael, D’AAR, Saratos Federation, male
Nationality - Saratosi
Resides in - Tarak, North Mera, Mera Self-Governmental Republic, Lionyamar
Race - Kathi Saratosi [eurasian lynx] - mostly grey furred, tufted pointy ears and cheek fluff. 175cm, 58kg.
Occupation - Light transport pilot, postman, variety of other odd jobs
Notes - Left leg is not particularly useful - He’s able to walk…mostly…but operating foot devices like clutch pedals is another task.
Background
Jace-Tirin was born in to a family of relatively well-off (for third-world country standards) workers. It was found out quite quickly that he wasn’t like the other children though, being unable to use his left leg properly. Despite this, a series of economic crisises in the late 2000s forced his family’s hand and sent him off to work (he had two arms and a leg, that was enough) with schooling as a second priority, even when showing intelligence. He picked up a variety of basic skills. Once the crisises had passed for the most part, he was sent back to school full-time, but at this point he was so far behind he barely passed the final exam and decided to not pursue further education.
In the first years of his independence he spent most of it working as a postman and delivery driver for the Saratosi mail service. The Fourth Saratosi War sent him in to the military, as night watch and sniper positions. He deserted his post with the rest of his batallion as conditions continued to worsen, and fled to the Mera SGR.
He has recently invested all of his savings in acquiring a pilot’s license and a run-down aeroplane, which he is flying mostly value and time-sensitive cargo. Recently though, tensions between the Mera SGR and Saratos Federation has resulted in a no-fly zone being enacted above Greater Saratosi skies - leaving him without a job or anything to do.
Kirann Atal-Mir
Born 2001, D’Olandik, Olandik Self-Governmental Autonomous Republic, male
Nationality - Olandi Saratosi
Resides in - Tarak, North Mera, Mera Self-Governmental Republic, Lionyamar
Race - Kathi Farosi [leopard] - black fur with slightly grey spots. 180cm, 79kg.
Occupation - Cook, and a shit ton of other odd jobs ranging from trade apprenticeships to supermarkets
Notes - English poor, can understand most conversations but can’t really talk back. Speaks Saratosi mainly.
Background
Kirann was born in to a family of rich governmental workers in the Olandik SGAR. He enjoyed many luxuries the average worker could only dream of, and received a prestigious education throughout his teens. He picked up quite a few hobbies, played video games and liked role-playing in various settings.
This changed when in the aftershocks of the financial crisises his mother acquired a serious drinking and drug problem after being laid off suddenly. His quality of life deteriorated rapidly as his mother failed her obligations as parent and worsened their financial situation.
A breaking point was reached and his father decided to leave - he attempted to take Kirann with him, but transfering custody was rejected. He left, and Kirann ran across the border in to Saratos, where he worked many jobs to sustain himself. He particularly liked cooking, and throughout changing second jobs he stayed with restaurants the longest.
One particularly rough night, a young postman stopped for a rather intoxicated Kirann on the side of the road outside of the city and offered him a room in his appartment. He (too off his face to properly realise the dangers of accepting such an offer from a total stranger) agreed to live with him.
He also served a short time in the Fourth Saratosi War, leveraging his skill as a cook in the field, although he was not a bad shot by any means. He similarly fled the regime along with Jace, subsequently finding new employment in a different restaurant and managing to re-connect with his father.
With the restaurant owner and his family going on vacation, he’s gotten time off as well.
…pictures are to follow, but I have serious art block or whatever it’s called.
The CH2 Saberin Solsti
(pictured: 1992 CH2 Solsti ESi with aftermarket rims and the exclusive Desert Red colour)
It retained its front-macpherson, rear double-wishbone suspension to allow for a rear baggage compartment, even being rear-engined. The front was still adorned with a frunk.
The CH2 generation, instead of prioritising weight reduction, packaging and sportiness, prioritised interior space - resulting in a car with cavernous interior space, especially for the two rear passengers, compared to most of its peers. In the Alagnomar States, it was called a ‘mini-IAS’, and in its home country, it was called the ‘affordable Atarin’.
This did mean that the vehicle gained weight - while the CH1 Solsti tipped the scales at only 900 kilograms, the CH2 did so at 1055 kilos, making it less of a favourite for racecar drivers. Then again, you got an actual nice interior with lots of room, so why complain about increased weight while it still returns 6L/100km on a bad day.
It sold well, very well, being affordable, comfortable and economic, and with the ESi model returning 9.7s to 100km/h, a little bit of pep too. They’re everywhere, ubiquitous in less well-faring countries, exported and driven for years and years on end.
Our Example, 1991 CH2 Saberin Solsti 1500 ESi 'EM 222 RR'
(the listing)
[JT]
I don’t know the exact details of how and why this crapchute ended up here, but from looking through dubious websites I think it was originally produced in the Ilaris plant in the Alagnomar States, driven the first 10 years of its life until it was not re-inspected. The last recorded odometer reading was 314,000 km, according to the motor vehicle department archive. It subsequently found itself imported here, and I’m pretty sure it’s held up pretty well for the past 13 years here. Most of the rust is from its first decade in the States, cause they find it necessary to dump a freighter’s worth of salt on the roads each autumn. It’s mostly around where the salt would be kicked up, and the underbody, but its majority just surface rust.
Now in those 13 years, it’s somehow picked up an additional 500,000km - the tally as of now is an eye-watering 791,527km. While the body has held up, anything that moves and wears out is pretty darn worn. Steering feels loose, everything has an excessive amount of play, and the engine feels like it is about to throw a rod, which isn’t surprising because it’s ran about 400,000km at this point.
Despite what you might think, this country still sucks so it isn’t a wondrous anomaly that this shitbox is nearing a million kilometres. What is a wondrous anomaly is that this thing has a full - yes, full - service history. It’s gathered three service booklets, all filled to the brim with maintenance, replacements and various other things. An engine replacement at 420,470km, suspension rebuild at 487,889km, service every 25,000km - I asked the owner ‘Why? For this car?’ and he responded ‘This is how every car should be, no? We’d all be better off if we all did it like this.’ - fair.
The previous owner, a family man, was in expectation of a third child, and the four seats of the Solsti would no longer cut it. He wanted to give it a send-off though, took his family on an off-road trip, messed up the suspension again and now it’s mine for a lesser price. 300 bucks.
Anyway, as for modifications. I changed the oil pump and added stickers. Can’t go wrong with those.
Judging by the what little is left of its basic shape, it seems that you based the Quartz Castella on either the '87 Fatale or '83 Bean body sets (regardless of size), and distorted it with lots of body moldings to achieve the desired look. Whatever lies underneath, the result is a work of art - and the best-looking entrant so far.
I can only agree, an Automation car looking better than most IRL neoclassics.
THE SPY KIDS GO TO HOLSIA
The Spy Kids are back for a third round of interplanetary rallying! And by the Spy Kids, I mean Shay Hirvonen. The 2024 edition of the rally will be in the country of Holsia, and with the route promising to be much safer than Crugandr the services of Lazar and Alexis aren’t needed.
So instead, Shay has decided to take her LA art friends on a road trip. Megumi and Amanecer have little in the way of mechanical nous and are just there to sightsee the closest thing there is to a living 1930s. Shay can’t do everything on her own, though, so her mad scientist friend Petra is also along for the ride.
Driver: Shay Hirvonen
Age: 19
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. When she’s not in soft-core mode, she will step on you, and you will like it.
Vehicles: Jaguar E-Type, Mercedes-Maybach S650 (with upgrades), VW Kombi (with upgrades), Bugatti Chiron, Pagani Zonda F Roadster
Mechanic: Petra Kennedy
Age: 18
Appearance: 155cm, blonde, half cottagecore, half band shirts
Description: Petra is the closest thing you will find to a mad scientist this side of an interdimensional portal. She owns a “pest control” company, which is just her being a pyromaniac, complete with a collection of explosives and various other flammable items. She once blew up several rooms of her school, and thus is on several lists. She also has an entire room dedicated to Minecraft merchandise, and can shoot a target as well as Shay.
Tourist #1: Megumi Tetsuya
Age: 18
Appearance: 155cm, Japanese-Canadian, sometimes looks like a painter, sometimes like a fashionista, always like she should be in Paris.
Tourist #2: Amanecer García
Age: 18
Appearance: 165cm, black hair, underground punk chic or Mexican dresses
Description: Alexis’s cousin. Much stronger than she looks. Knows jiu jitsu, and can throw a punch and parkour over the resulting keeled over opponent. Not as communist as her cousin, and only speaks three languages instead of nine.
The Car
Once again, it’s an SUV. This time, however, it’s relatively new, and rather fancy. Sort of. It’s a Volkswagen Touareg, with one of Ferdinand Piëch’s crazy contraptions in the engine bay. The V10 TDI is shoved in so tight that it needs to be removed for everything other than basic maintenance. How Shay found one for $2000 is a mystery.
Fortunately it’s the most reliable part of the car. So Shay and Petra decided to put a bigger turbo and more boost into it. The injectors also needed replacing to handle the low quality fuel oil in Holsia. The actual fixing, however, was reserved for the collapsed air suspension. And the electrics. And the locking rear differential. And the gearbox.
So now Shay has a road rally rig ready for Holsia, with 405 bhp, 731 lb-ft of torque, and a suspension and driveline straining to handle it all.
One of these, but worse. And with 400bhp.
TEAM FIRULAIS
A Rather Cold Meeting
(Yes, I couldn’t get any pictures… That’ll be for later)
Vladivostok, Russian Federation.
After 4 of the Team’s Members made the long trip to what used to be the USSR, they’d meet up with Ángel, the one who had the car since they bought it. They expected him to have done wonders with it, swapping it with a V8, getting a racing transmission, getting rid of that NASTY interior… You know, making a race car.
As soon as they arrived to Vladivostok… They got the disappointment of their lives.
Ángel was waiting for them at the local airport, and they found the Aurora in similar conditions to those when they bought it. Ana immediately had to ask…
Ana:“What have you done !? We left you in charge of the build, and you’ve done nothing !”
Josué:“As long as I’ve Hurd, you were planning on giving it a touch with the paint, and get it to be as fast as it could…!”
But before Tomás and Andrés would’ve made their complaints, Ángel quickly replied.
Ángel:“Well, at least I’ve done more than what the eye’s able to see. C’mon, come here, when I get you to my apartment I shall tell you.”
Josué:"Sure, you cripple."making reference on how Ángel has only one eye (Ángel lost the other one).
He said that, not even remembering he hadn’t done anything to the interior. Of course, when his teammates saw that, they refused to come in, and took a Taxi to Ángel’s residence instead.
When they arrived, Ángel took the time to explain. After all, his Team isn’t necessarily patient with him.
Ángel:“OK, as you might have seen–”
Josué (irritated):“What have you done Ángel…?”
Ángel:“Let me explain. As you can see, It seems like If I hadn’t done much.”
Andrés:“That’s quite obvious.”
Ángel:“Guys, let me explain. Remember when we got the car, in Finland ? Remember how the engine sounded more like a Lawnmower ?”
Josué:“Let me guess… You’ve swa–”
Ángel:“Rebuilt it.”
A wave of silence was present. But Ángel didn’t let himself get intimidated by disapproval of his team.
Ángel:“Josué, before you launch yourself to complain, tell me something. Do you know how to swap an engine ? Do you even know how expensive it is to get a new engine ? Do you know how much it took me to make what I’ve done to this car ?”
Josué remained silent, probably meaning he didn’t have anything to say. And therefore, that Ángel was kinda on his point there.
Ángel:“With so little budget, it’s hard to make anything. But I’ve rebuilt the engine and the transmission. Isn’t that enough ?”
Again, another silent moment, indicating approval.
Ángel:sigh"Now, come in, I don’t want you to freeze to death."
Inside Ángel’s apartment, the discussions got a lot smoother, but there were still concerns.
They didn’t know how would they get to Holsia. Did they have to go somewhere ? Would they be teleported ? Someone would pick them up ?
In any case, the talk was about the supplies. Ángel made sure to bring as many spare parts as he could in a space that wouldn’t be too large. Maybe he’d preferred to install a Roof Rack instead of Installing Rally Lights and Painting the Bonnet black.
Josué didn’t have anything to say, after all, he had been left stumped by Ángel in their small discussion about the car.
Andrés had brought some food. Tomás had brought some Camping Tents, but unfortunately, there were only 4. So someone would have to sleep in the car.
Knowing that it was his responsibility to fix the interior, Ángel volunteered to sleep in that disgusting interior. But he wouldn’t be lonely, as Ángel and Andrés would swap between tent and car across the stages…
Ana, meanwhile, had bought an unusual supply: Alcohol. As she was a heavy drinker, she filled whatever little space was left in the Aurinko with booze. This, added to everyone’s luggage, meant there was little wiggle room inside the car.
And after that was settled, the team would make a last thing that day: Seeing how everyone drove the car.
Everyone got OK with driving the Aurora… Except Ana.
Ana:“OK, boys, are you ready ?”
Andrés:“Ready for what, death ?”
Tomás:“For a Rollover, perhaps.”
Ángel:“Well, I’m ready, so, off you go.”
Ana put the pedal to the metal and got into drifting in the residence’s parking lot.
For everyone, it was a rather scary experience. Specially for Ángel. Not only he had nothing to hold onto… But also, he’d have something else to worry about later.
In one of her drifts, Ana accidentally hit one of Ángel’s neighbor’s car with the driver side of the car… The alarm of the car went of as soon as the back bumper fell, along with a trim piece of the Aurora.
Ana:“Oh, gosh.”
Ángel (nervous):“Ana, Run ! Run !”
They effectively fled the scene and didn’t come back until darkness fell.
Maaaaan those specs are really impressive! Impressive power and high gas mileage? I guess that’s what modern 10s parts can do for a car. I would be utterly confounded by its design too if I didn’t know what a Mitsuoka Viewt was. Good luck with the rally, though I doubt you’ll need it.
MACHINAS CON PASSIONE’S SHITBOX ADVENTURES PART 3
Intro - BRAND NEW DAY
October 21st, 2023.
Family had been the first thing on Ryouchi’s mind for the better part of 20 years now. Whether it was Machinas Con Passione, Katou Racing Engines, or some muddled collaborative effort between the two, he’d been under the thumb of his family’s influence his entire racing career. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world, he was looked after, he’d never found himself wanting for much, anything that was affordable was bought, any seat that was free could be arranged with a few handshakes, and even if nobody wanted him, all he had to do was say the word and he’d be in a racecar before he finished the sentence.
Ryouchi was knocking on 20 years spent racing, and despite his youth found that all the experience in the world could never erase or make up for a certain inadequacy. Ryu grew up on the same hopes and dreams anybody in a racing family came up with, get to F1, win a title, get a trophy wife and retire before the gray hairs settle in. In each of these pursuits Ryouchi had been met with abject failure. It had taken him just 3 years to flunk out of Formula 2, he had admittedly won a title in Formula Vee, all of 12 years ago, and the less said about the trophy wife search the better.
It’s hard to say where he first got the idea. Ryu was always a passionate kid, and was more than happy to make the most of what he had through his career rise, having even been able to grow a bit of an ego into his Formula 2 career before reality sunk in and he found himself trading his wins and podiums for points and prayers. A few years racing in the states found him able to pick up the pieces, but for all the little wins and the bits of respect he found himself earning, he could never shake off a feeling of missing something from when he first got on the plane to america.
He knew he had to strike out on his own if he ever wanted to reach his goal. The little wins gradually ate away at the young man, and he gradually recoiled from the team as he started setting the pieces in motion for him to strike out onto his own. He’d gotten himself a manager, the renowned former Barrister Lola Hart, later in his F2 career, and would be seen staying up until the wee hours of the morning discussing contracts with her and drawing up plans for the 2023 season. A few handshakes, a moving of some dollars and an auction or two to get some run down facilities and vehicles later, Ryouchi Katou Motorsport was born.
Ryouchi sits at the desk he now calls his own, hunched over a weathered, yet well maintained book as he writes the latest passages of his hopes, dreams and ruminations down into what has been his closest friend for the past 5 years, his diary. Though everyone else in the trailer he called home had called it a night, Ryouchi found himself unable to sleep owing to the knot of anxiety and doubt that formed in his mind ahead of the crossroads he found himself in.
Ryouchi sighed to himself as he kicked his feet up upon the desk as he gave his weary hand a break, staring into the ceiling and reflecting upon where he’d been in his career. He returned to his previous position as he thought out what to write for his final entry of the day, the light prick of stubble stinging his finger as he ran his thumb across his chin. That’s a first. He thought to himself, and collected himself once more before placing pen to paper.
“There’s a lot of change in the world. Not least of all in the automotive one. The old school blocky, practical and restrained designs have gone out the window in the pursuit of everyone chasing that futuristic look. Between the 2030 headlights, 2040 consoles, 2050 powertrains, everyone’s looking ahead these days. In the world of racing, I’ve seen the change happen first hand. I used to always give Alessio shit for his schtick about change and eras but, hell, even though I’ve only been here a few years, I’ve seen the whole world, seen philosophies I could never have dreamed of, and yet… I still struggle to find a place for me. I know what I want but… In this industry, if you’re not the next big thing, you’re nothing at all. I had that chance already, and blew it. I crashed one too many times and before you knew it, the money ran out. The patience ran out. The hype ran out. And I was out the door.
If it wasn’t for my family, I’d probably be pushing carts or working a field somewhere. Being the “son of a legend” has its perks, I guess. Well, famous names can only get you so far in this business, and I don’t know how much further I can get on name value alone. They think of me and my mom’s the first thing they see. The first thing I learned when I started racing was that my actions aren’t just my own. And, well, that much is true, but any action I make is overshadowed by 30 of hers.
I’ve tried to make the most out of the situation I’m in, using the last of my cash to open a small team using some dated cars with a few friends I can trust. It’s hard, probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done, we’re constantly in the red and I can’t go two minutes without getting a call from Lola, though on that front, I don’t think I mind very much… Well, either way, we’re competitive enough, at least. No titles to contend for, but I get the feeling we have at least a bit of respect. Respect will get us a place in their hearts, but money is what’s gonna get us on the track. I’m not sure what the right way forward is now, but, well, I’ve winged it before. What’s the worst that could happen?”
Ryouchi Katou sat at his desk, putting the final touches in his diary the night before the biggest race in his life. Though the pages were wrinkled and frayed, the diary having been a present from Lola for his 19th birthday, the American driver found it to be a valued friend as he found himself in various stages of his young career as a racing driver, thinking of it as someone he could go to and yap on about whatever was on his mind that day, week, month, or even year.
Checking his phone to realize he’d been writing for a good hour past his bedtime, Ryouchi scrambled to hide his keepsake somewhere safe as he tried to make up for lost time by quickly shoving it under his dresser and diving straight for the bed as if racing the against the clock to get to bed before time itself could. Before he could get to sleep, though, he found his mind occupied with the various messages from Giacomo, Hikiko, and others had sent his way- all still left on read, and mulled over what the future held, as he was prone to do. He’d sent out a few feeler emails to any interested Formula One teams a few weeks ago, and last he’d heard, he could expect a response in the next few days. He took a deep breath, and found sleep came quickly as he anticipated the big day ahead.
It was seemingly no time at all that Ryu found himself embedded in the all too familiar experience of the interior of a cockpit. In the stressful environment of needing to hit target after target, Ryouchi found a comfort in the familiar smell of fuel, the sting in his eyes, the aches in his arms and legs from running circuit after circuit, the sensations of his body being flung about the cockpit, the G-forces wringing the life out of his neck as he clung to the wheel with his very being. The feeling of determined solidarity, crunching at the bit, a slave to the numbers and data that his every move generated, obsessed with the single motive of speed for hours on end. This is what Ryouchi lived for.
Everything was going according to plan during his first session as a Formula One driver, he’d outperformed expectations and had seemingly all but guaranteed a call up to a race seat, which is why the most terrifying thing in Ryouchi’s mind at the moment was the awful vibration shaking him to his very core every time he made a right turn. He hadn’t said anything earlier, not wanting to look like an amateur and hoping to show the team he could hang with the rest of the grid, but it became apparent that something was terminally wrong.
“Last lap Ryouchi, last lap.” Came the voice over the radio, cold and calculated as ever. Ryouchi breathed a sigh of relief, taking comfort in knowing his first practice session had gone off without a hitch. That was, however, until he glanced in his mirrors, the realization hit him as his left side was taken up by his rear tire, fully delaminated and headed straight for the wall ahead of him. Ryouchi’s world became a jumbled mess of panic and muddled prayer as his car pitched onto its side at over 200 miles an hour, dooming both car and driver to an impact neither would survive.
Algarve, Portugal.
October 22nd, 2023.
Ryouchi awoke from his nightmare with a sudden jolt, the fright flinging both himself and his blankets off the bed, with both hitting the ground with a painful bang.
“What was that?”
“Sounds like sleeping beauty finally woke up.”
Ryouchi could make out a few muffled voices from outside his bedroom, which had taken the place of a motorhome in the pit garages of the Circuito De Algarve. As Ryouchi slowly recalled where he was, one glaringly important detail struck the youth as he came to from his nightmare:
It’s race day.
Ryouchi could only groan at the realization as he heard a knock on his door. He had little time to reply before he found the door slowly swinging open. In a scene straight out of a b-grade horror film, Ryu was met with the familiar sight of the one person who found joy in tormenting him so early in the morning, his little sister Koharu. Though the siblings had spent a lot of time apart during Ryu’s stint in Formula 2, owing to Ryu’s need to travel the world and Koharu’s need to get a good education, the two siblings remained as close as always, much to the joy of Koharu and the looming dread of Ryouchi.
The thing is, though Koharu had grown into quite the ambitious young adult, she found that school wasn’t necessarily all that eye-catching. During her freshman year, she found out she had a natural talent in her chosen field of music, starting a band (“light music club”) with her best friends and getting into mosh pits on a near weekly basis. One way the two would keep in touch during Ryouchi’s racing career would be the “accidental” booking of Koharu’s band at the local venue Ryouchi would be racing at, though that wouldn’t be the reason why Koharu was about a minute away from exploding the local power grid just to make enough noise to possibly wake up Ryu. Through some finagling, Koharu had managed to convince their mom to let Ryouchi take her to Portugal for the race for Koharu’s career week, leading to the predicament Ryouchi found himself in now.
Unfortunately for Ryouchi, though, this gave her the perfect opportunity to act as an alarm clock for her brother. Ryouchi, upon noticing the giant amp she’d placed mere inches from his face, sighed and resigned himself to the inevitable. Knowing his time was up, and that he’d gotten to live a good 24 years, Ryouchi asked one final question of his executioner on his day of reckoning. “So, it’s the bass today, huh?” The prisoner uttered. Though he couldn’t see her, Ryouchi knew his sister was beaming from ear to ear, and that the time of his demise was near. “You know it. Can’t let sleeping beauty miss his big race. Dig it!”
At that, she gave her bass a hearty slap, and, owing to the mess of pedals she’d connected to the thing, the normally dulcet tones found themselves violently twisting and warping into an oppressive wall of sound that assaulted every fiber in Ryouchi’s very being. Ryouchi thought he felt his heart stop for a second as the reverb was hard enough to bolt him a good inch off the ground. Ducking for cover, Ryouchi flopped under the bed as he tried to recover from the utter violation of his eardrums.
“Alright! I’m up! Jesus!” Ryouchi screeched. “Why did mom let you bring that thing here?” A small trickle of blood escaped Ryouchi’s ear as he looked up at his sister. Koharu merely shrugged as she wheeled her amp out of the room, satisfied at another job well done. Ryouchi could do little more than sigh. Lacking the energy to get moving, Ryouchi slowly clawed his way to the kitchen, needing his daily caffeine boost to get up off the ground.
Waiting for him were his fellow F1 rejects, and soon to be co-drivers, Rod Mackenzie and Thibault Prosper. The two were well respected racing drivers in their own right, though their differing personalities and career paths made for some clashes on and off the track. At the end of the day, though, the two were consummate professionals…. To an extent.
Thibault, on one hand, had enjoyed a mild F1 career, spending 5 years in the top flight of motorsport, and would find himself peaking with Haas in a reserve role during the 2020 season. The Frenchman was well respected in racing circles for his icy demeanor and stone cold racecraft. F1 had been a failed side project for The Terminator, a nickname earned in his formative years, as his real bread and butter, was Rally, where he’d spent the majority of his career honing his craft and earning the respect of his peers and of the greater world at large.
Though he’d been relegated to last during most of his recent racing career, Thibault very much remained the textbook definition of a professional throughout. Staying clean shaven, waking up early, exercising constantly, and showing up to anything 30 minutes ahead of time “just to get on top of things.” Thibault would’ve been a real catch for any racing team if he wasn’t 33 years old, which in racing terms meant he was old and decrepit. While it was true that father time was knocking at his door, Thibault still had the desire he’d say any racer should have, and would likely find himself at the highest level of motorsport for some time.
Meanwhile, Roderick, known as Rod to his friends, was much older and fully fed up with the idea of needing a diet plan to finish 12th. He’d once been known in his younger days for his supermodel good looks and eye-catching charisma, and while the supermodel was definitely still there, he’d been sequestered away underneath a thick beard, tired eyes and a receding hairline that was more salt than pepper. Roderick had gotten his start in sports cars as well, and originally met Ryouchi as a driver coach when he was driving in Formula 2. Rod had won plenty in GT cars, and after 20 odd years of sitting in the victor’s circle, had finally realized that winning wasn’t all that it was cut out to be when you’re constantly doing it. As such, he was very much here to build the team more than his own personal glory, and was already hard at work finishing his third donut of the day as Ryouchi made his way to the kitchen.
"Mmmph ‘’ is all Ryouchi can muster as Rod places a freshly made cup of espresso on the floor in front of his shambling corpse. “You really outdid yourself.” Thibault noted as he nudged Ryouchi with his foot. “Normally I give Roderick some shit for sleeping in, but you actually beat him for once.” Ryouchi sat up as he took a sip of his Espresso, the scalding heat seemingly having no effect on him as he asked his teammates for the time. “It’s 20 minutes to lights out. Get dressed.”
Ryouchi nearly choked on the coffee as he jolted awake, the news apparently having more of an effect on him than the coffee did. “Fucks sake! Why didn’t you wake me up earlier?” Ryouchi shouted as he scrambled to his room, desperate to get dressed in time for the race start. Rod scratched his head, meekly telling Ryouchi that they’d tried multiple times, to no avail. “The bass was actually our last resort.” Added Thibault. Koharu, watching the chaos unfold, was astonished to see “top level professionals” at work, and asked if things were always like this. The looks Rod and Thibault gave her were more than enough confirmation that yes, everyone here is a mess.
Ryouchi, finally getting dressed after nearly tripping over himself multiple times, was just about to completely bolt out of the motorhome when, as if to meet him, the door to the rv swung open, nearly slamming into him,and if it weren’t for his reflexes honed through years of training as a racing driver, it probably would have. Nearly tripping over himself as he stopped, Ryouchi quickly collected himself, coming face to face with his manager, Lola, as he did so. Lola, none the wiser, was pleased to see her client dressed and ready to go ahead of time.
“Ah, raring to go as always, I see.” Rod audibly scoffed, but let the conversation play out. It was all Ryouchi could do to stammer out a reply of “O-oh. Uhh, yeah. That’s me, raring to go! Heh.” a visible bead of sweat trickled down Ryouchi’s forehead. Thibault sighed loudly, placing a hand on Ryouchi’s shoulder as he tried to comfort him. “Hey, take your time, Ryouchi. Rod is starting anyway. Take your time.” Rod chipped in from the kitchen, “Yeah, don’t forget about us, Mr. Superstar!” Ryouchi snorted at that, and, nodding to his crew, stepped out with Lola to go over their negotiations.
Lola and Ryouchi walked in silence for a few moments before Lola spoke up, straight to business as she always was. “Well, Mr. Katou, I’m pleased to report that our feeler we sent out has been received well by some teams, in particular, Haas are interested in hiring you as an American driver, and, a bit surprisingly to me, Alpine also sent a rather receptive email back. Good thing I negotiated that little sponsor package for us, eh?” Lola turned to Ryouchi, only to find that he’d stopped moving when she mentioned Haas. “Ryouchi?” The driver awoke from his trance upon Lola calling his name. “What? Oh, sorry. My head was… Somewhere else.”
Lola held back a chuckle at that. “Dreaming of your first race already?” She teased. “I guess. It’s gonna be hard, though. It’s…” “It’s like you’re so excited, but so anxious at the same time, right?” Ryouchi’s eyes shot up to meet hers. “Uh… yeah. How did you know?” Lola smiled at him, recalling her own past for a moment. “That’s how I felt when I got this job.” Ryouchi smiled back. “Who would’ve thought? Maybe drivers and managers aren’t so different after all.” Lola gave Ryouchi a light punch on the shoulder, the two enjoying the moment before getting back to business. “Alright. What’s the catch?” Ryouchi asked. Having been in this exact situation before, he knew first chances, let alone second ones, were never free.
“Well… That’s the thing. Alpine wants you to drop everything to test their Hypercar, and from there they spoke about Simulators and reserve roles…” Ryouchi nodded along as Lola explained, seemingly intrigued by the offer. “And Haas?” He prodded. “Well, Haas are actually interested in putting you right into a reserve role, but they said that your situation with Ferrari makes things awkward for them. A race seat is… unlikely.” Ryouchi mulled the options for all of two seconds before choosing Alpine. Lola shrugged. “Fair enough, but they want you in France by tonight. I can take you to the airport, if you’d like.”
Ryouchi and Lola had reached his car, a 1992 Honda Civic SiR-II that had been lovingly restored and maintained by Ryouchi as his present for his 17th birthday, though it had really been a present to his inner child. Lola, of course, knew none of this, and waited patiently as Ryouchi was lost in thought again. Realizing he’d been staring at his childhood dreams for all of 20 seconds, Ryouchi snapped back to reality and addressed his manager, right as the cacophony of engines coming to life began mere meters away. “Tonight, huh?” Ryouchi looked up at Lola, whose bronze skin and green eyes shone in the sunlight as smiled gently at her client, as if to say that no matter what he chose, she’d back him. Ryouchi wanted more than anything to open the door. He wanted his future back. To become the driver he should’ve been, to snatch the reality he’d always envisioned as a child.
As he thought this, the faces of his comrades, friends he’d known for years in Rod and Thibault, came to mind. Ryouchi knew that opening the door would effectively leave them to dry. If he got in the car today, there’d be no team tomorrow. Ryouchi, visibly shaking, opened the door, and made his way to Formula One.
Circuito De Algarve, Katou Racing Engines Garage.
Tryhard.
Koharu was fond of having a bit of banter with the team in the odd chance she did get to visit, and when she first saw Thibault race in person, that was the nickname she’d given him. It seemingly rang true as The Frenchman found himself audibly gritting his teeth through the treacherous, undulating Circuito de Algarve, struggling to take his aging Ligier JS P2 to a decent position as he found himself engulf in a swarm of the latest and greatest, a field of cars all running the renowned Oreca 07.
Though externally, the difference between these two cars was merely aesthetic, the 3 year age gap in car design felt more like 30, as the uphill battle the trio of Katou Racing Engines had faced throughout the season made it readily apparent why the Oreca design was the class of the field, and why the Ligier used by the team had been bought at an auction.
Nevertheless, the fact the grid was relegated to using the same engine was the only reason the team was able to perform such a stunt, though the disgruntled engineers sent by their supplier found the venture less than amusing, as there would seemingly be a new issue with the engine they’d crammed into the car every week, causing many a late night for the understaffed crew.
The problem of the week this time, and the reason why Thibault found himself straining at the limit, was the ECU overheating and sending jumbled messes of numbers and text to the team computer, with various ECU components, namely the power steering, malfunctioning mid corner only to fix themselves at the end of a lap. Thibault’s endurance was second to none, but even he found himself at his limit at an hour and a half in, and given the car was beginning to agree with him, as he slid out of the final corner, he signaled to the team that he’d be coming in, only to be met with silence on the radio.
In the garage, a frantic mass of people wandered into and out of the paddock, as they all sought to find where Ryouchi, who was due to take over Thibault’s stint, had gone. Everyone except Rod, at least, who sat leaned against the wall in the fence, uncharacteristically musing to himself as snippets of conversations long had played in his head.
Rod thought back to the promise Ryouchi made to him earlier in the year. In that dilapidated office, a room that had once been a poster child for the same office layout every middle aged dad seemed to lust after was now a mildew riddled, bare floored cubicle, where two men sat at a table that had clearly been bought second hand after the fact, discussing the terms that would see Rod join Ryouchi’s branch of KRE. Ryouchi, clearly out of place in an authoritative role, had enlisted the help of an arbitrator, his manager, Lola Hart. She’d provided the lengthy binder the two men sat hunched over, having to stand off to the side owing to the lack of chairs available.
Ryouchi paused for a moment, visibly sweating, and, looking up at Lola briefly, steeled himself before he spoke to Rod. “Ah, Of course, I’ll be invested long term too. I mean, it’s not like we have a carpet to pull out from under you. ” Rod let out a snort at that, smiling at the admittedly corny joke as the tension in the room seemed to die down a little.
“Well lad,” the veteran started. “I won’t lie, building the future is something that’s been on my mind for a while. I mean, I can see we’re far from that point, but in a few years, with a kid like you? I think we can really build something… Starting with a new office.” Lola smiled cordially at Roderick as he signed the contract, binding his and Ryouchi’s careers for the time being. “An office today, our dreams tomorrow. Welcome to Katou Racing Engines, Mr. Mackenzie.”
Back in the garage, Roderick could see the dreams he had of finally fostering a home for the next generation gone. A chance to build something with his own two hands, to do the one thing he’d never done, win a race in his own car. A single word described the promises Ryouchi had made, Rod thought to himself. Lies.
In that moment, Koharu walked up to the vet, looking as worried as the many team members scurried about the garage in a frantic search for Ryouchi. “He won’t pick up his phone…. Rod?” Koharu, normally full of energy, found herself completely drained and lost for confidence in the chaos of the situation of Ryu’s disappearance. Looking to Rod for answers, she got none. The two sighed deeply, nearly in sync, before Rod looked down upon Koharu, and reassured her. “He’s alright, if I know where he is. I can only hope I’m wrong, kiddo.” Rod sighed again, as the roar of a low flying jet thundered past overhead.
Circuit Dijon-Prenois, 2 hours later.
Ryouchi arrives at the Dijon circuit, still wearing his Le Mans Series Fatigues, and in a hurried blur of movement and emotions is in the car within 10 minutes. Lola, on the other hand, is met by the head of Alpine’s human resources department himself, a man who perfectly fits the description of the most corporatized “man-in-a-suit” archetype one could draw up, Claude Perot. “Ms. Hart. I understand you represent Ryouchi?” Lola nearly hesitates a bit. Despite her years of experience in negotiations, she still finds herself getting nervous whenever meeting with particularly lofty figures, but she quickly steels herself and meets Claude with the same steel-cold professionalism she met any other client with.
“Yes. I’ll be handling any negotiations involving him. I’m glad to make your acquaintance.” Claude chuckles at this. “Please, there’s no need to be so formal, Ms. Hart. You’re my guest here, and on such short notice! I’d say we’re off to a great start so far.” Lola gave a curt nod. Lola was prone to keeping a very robust wall of professionalism in her interactions with others, especially during negotiations, though this time she found herself letting loose some of the tension held in her shoulders, as if a part of her knew she could only do so much to influence Claude ’s opinion.
Though Claude was impressed at the moment, everything dictating the way the interaction would go in the coming moments hinged on the man exiting the pits as they spoke. The sound of Ryouchi speeding off left them covering their ears for a moment, before Claude resumed the conversation. “Truth be told, we’re not running a particularly kitted out car at the moment. If Ryouchi ran something in the 1:12s we’d be impressed.”
Lola opened her mouth, but was cut off by the sounds of tires squealing in the distance. Had Ryouchi binned it so early? Lola looked over to the engineers to see them hurriedly talking amongst themselves, though about what exactly was unclear. Lola’s veneer of professionalism was lost for a moment as she rushed over to the pit garage, trying to get a closer view of the track herself. Her fears were quickly put to rest by the thunderous growl of Ryouchi’s Alpine coming across the front stretch, ready to set his hotlap.
“I’ll never be passed over again.”
“I know who I am, that’s all I need.”
“I’m scared.”
Thoughts scrambled Ryouchi’s mind as he began his hotlap of the Dijon circuit. The car was fully incomplete, Ryouchi could feel it in every little instability that rocked the car in the wide open sweepers that made up the opening part of the lap, the section having spun him out entirely earlier due to the tires not being warmed up before being assaulted by his signature brand of racecraft. His breathing became ragged and the adrenaline in his veins palpable as he rapidly made his way to the hairpin.
“I drive for myself. That’s how it’s always been. Me vs. The world. That’s how it has to be.”
“I refuse to lose. Not to anyone. Not to myself. Not again.”
“I’m not fast enough. I never was.”
Thoughts scrambled Ryouchi’s mind, thoughts that had been swirling around for the past 3 years, ever since his racing fund ran out. Ever since his future blew up in smoke. He crossed the finish line, and waiting for him there, waving a checkered flag, was the boss himself. Were they calling the test off so fast? Ryouchi’s mind became a blur as he pulled into the pits. The mechanics muttered amongst themselves, quickly stopping as soon as the Alpine’s engine shut off. It was all Ryouchi could do to avoid shaking as he stepped out of the car, where Claude stood waiting for him, holding out a hand for Ryouchi to shake. He smiled at Ryouchi as he looked up to meet his gaze, the single sentence Ryouchi had waited his entire life to hear leaving his lips:
“Welcome to Alpine, Ryouchi.”
Early 2024. Months later.
Giacomo sets his plan into motion.
It was many months ago now that Ryouchi had left MCP entirely, and in that time the buzz the youngster had created had the racing media in a frenzied rush to publish story after story to turn the rumor mill for both Ryouchi and the MCP team. Giacomo was always one to lavish in the attention, but when the veneer of admiration wore off, leaving a portrait of an eerily empty home full of disheartened staff and broken hearts, media interest soon waned in the lack of any sensational headlines or dramatic stories to follow, leaving Giacomo very disappointed.
As such, life moved on. Though MCP may have been in a sad state, Giacomo knew it was his duty as it’s heart and soul to continue the fight. Giacomo took it upon himself to get the team back together the only way he knew how: Winning. Though it wasn’t ever Giacomo himself doing the winning, he knew his strong suit was in being the brains of the operation (it was in his extremely deep pockets) and the man behind the legendary outfits that took on races around the world from the Daytona 500 and the 24 Hours of Le Mans knew he could make lightning strike again. He knew he could win the 2024 Shitbox Rally. No, he does not know it’s not a competition.
Luckily, Giacomo knew of a site where you could buy great products for cheap. A site with the strictest quality control regiments on the internet. A site where you can make your dreams come true for just the price of shipping, and the site that was listing a rejected Le Mans Prototype for just $1,700!
What’s the worst that can happen?
MCP PROLOGUE - BRAND NEW DAY - FIN
MACHINAS CON PASSIONE’S SHITBOX ADVENTURES PART 3 - EPISODE 1 - SURVIVING LIVERPOOL
Liverpool, England.
3 weeks out from Shitbox Rally ‘24.
Ah, Liverpool. The closest you can get to incomprehensible without leaving the safety and security of the mainland UK, the one place on planet earth that directly names the sun on it’s no-fly list, and the town that we find our lovable protagonist Giacomo Scarfiotti setting the pieces in motion for what is sure to be Machinas Con Passione’s great return to motorsport, the 2024 running of the Shitbox Rally. In what is his third crack at the race, Giacomo has, allegedly at least, finally gathered up the information and knowledge gathered from the trying 2022 and 2023 runnings to realize his grand vision: complete and utter domination!
This, of course brings us to the question that should really be asked of Giacomo in any situation, that being “What the hell is he doing now?” The answer to which could be found at the center of the dilapidated garage the Italian businessman now found himself occupying, where sat a vaguely car-shaped figure that was kept secured under a torn tarp that had been stained in multiple places by the various pools of differing substances that were collecting around it. Giacomo, who had arranged to meet his contact in said garage, slowly took in the scene as the eerie nature of the building’s concrete walls, buildups of black mold and mildew and dank stench began to eat away at his normally abundant self confidence.
A beat of sweat visibly trickled from his brow as he stood awkwardly in front of the tarp, unsure if this was the “exquisite beast of nature, the defiant act of GOD’’ he’d paid 1700 dollars for, but the very real fear that he had been scammed for an admittedly meager sum was what drove Giacomo’s anxiety higher than any possibility of a boogeyman coming to get him in the dark garage. It was at that moment, at his most vulnerable, that a loud crash rang out from the direction Giacomo had entered, scaring the daylights out of every atom in his body as the Italian blindly leaped for his life, unknowingly diving headfirst into the tarp and crashing through the window as he tried to save what little cash he had left.
In the chaos, two voices, one masculine and another feminine, could be heard by what was left of Giacomo’s consciousness. The feminine voice stood out first. “Fuckin’ hell Loris, you’ve only gone and killed the man! That’s a payday and a half you’ve just cost us, mate!” The masculine voice, apparently named Loris, could be heard grunting as he apparently tried to get up from under something he’d knocked over, throwing whatever it was at the wall after. “How was I s’posed to fuckin’ know he’d not turn the bloody lights on! They’re only right next to the damned door!” Loris could be heard stamping his way over to Giacomo, who sat laid out between the passenger and driver seats as he recovered from his leap of faith, small cuts beginning to bleed over his exposed skin. Loris peeked in from the passenger side, making direct contact with the somehow still conscious Giacomo.
Loris seemingly needed to take a second to process the sheer stupidity of what just happened, and after going through a visible mental reboot tried to start a conversation with Giacomo. “Erm, so, Alright then, ah… Giacomo, right? We’re the Lynwoods. Luci and Loris. Sure you’ve heard of us. We messaged on Skype if you’ll remember.” Giacomo nodded with a sheer desperation that seemed to suggest that the mere action took every fiber of his being to even process, scared and adrenaline shot as he was. Loris sighed and tried to ignore the fact that the man was probably dying in front of him, and continued his sales pitch. “Right. Cool. So, would you mind getting up out of the car then so we can chat? I mean, y’know, if it’s not a hassle or anything mate.” It can be left unsaid that it was a giant hassle for the man that had probably received a concussion bad enough to kill men, but Giacomo simply shuddered to life as he crawled out of the windshield, onto the hood, and head first onto the floor as he slid off owing to the significant amount of blood he had lost.
The feminine voice Giacomo had heard earlier, apparently named Luci, made its way over to him now, and Giacomo could see a young woman in her late 20s looking down at him, visibly concerned. “Fuck’s sake, Loris, we can scam anybody else and get off scot free, I don’t wanna kill the man!” Giacomo looked over to Loris, who he thought couldn’t have looked less concerned if he tried, proved Giacomo wrong by shrugging and nudging Giacomo with his foot, wiggling his eyebrows at the woman who stood to his left. Loris squatted down to address Giacomo, patting him on his now bloody head as he tried to seal the deal. “So…. Since that window is gonna need replacing, think I can get an extra… dunno, 300? D’you think so?” Giacomo stook up a shaky hand, a thumbs up securing the 300 dollars that would pay for Loris’ new shoes. It seemed the start of a beautiful relationship.
Speaking of…
THE TEAM
Name: Giacomo Scarfiotti
Age: 51
Role: Financier, Navigator, Mascot
Nationality: Italian
Description: 5 foot 8, Spiky white hair with a GODLY Goatee. Uses glasses on occasion.
Background: The man, the myth, the legend, Giacomo Scarfiotti is wholly convinced he has finally found the winning combination of the best car, the best drivers and the best looks to win the contest outright…. That is until he realizes the Le Mans Reject he’s buying for cheap is really a shoddily made bodykit conversion for a car that barely made it to the junkyard.
Name: Loris Lynwood
Age: 27
Role: Driver, Scammer.
Nationality: Scouser
Description: 6 foot, brown hair with a buzzcut and a beard he is quite proud of, thin build with plenty of tats.
Background: Loris never knew luxury growing up. With his parents not expecting twins, the financial burden of keeping the lights on and providing for the young family took a toll on the young Loris, and he quickly found himself involved in shady dealings to keep the lights on. He’d make a living through these ill-gotten gains for much of his young adult life until a near-death experience encouraged the young Scouse to change his ways…. For all of five minutes. While Loris was proficient at procuring money, saving it was another deal entirely. While it was nice to have a big pile of the green stuff, that money could be much better used to get another tattoo of a knife or another pair of expensive shoes, why, it’d be a waste to just let it sit there!
In his younger days Loris was no stranger to lifting parts and fixing up cars for his own enjoyment, and has made a habit recently of stealing cars from local junkyards and either attaching random bits of bodywork to undriveable cars or stealing parts like turbos and cats from the ones that do still work before listing them on ebay for dirt cheap. Loris knows it’s risky business, but he never fully left the gang life behind, so there’s always an army of sneakerheads around the corner in the event of buyer’s remorse. As for his racing career, Loris is much more fond of street racing, but takes up the rally partially due to thinking Giacomo is shitting him, and partially to escape a particularly powerful victim of one of his scams. Better to be in the states on some other guy’s dime than at home at the mercy of some gang leader.
Name: Luci Lynwood
Age: 27
Role: Medic, Moral Conscious
Nationality: Scouser
Description:
Background: Luci is Loris’ twin, and many would argue his better half. Though she’s not above helping Loris scam people or writing up blurbs for his Ebay listings, she really is a pleasant person when you get to know her, and finds her motivation in helping her brother out of a desire to see him succeed more than for a love of chasing the bag. Having grown up with Loris, Luci exhibits many of the crafty traits about her that her brother does, but is infinitely more in tune with her basic common decency and isn’t nearly as insufferable as her brother.
Personality wise, she’s not as naive as Giacomo but not as book smart as Maria, she’s definitely a “glass type full” type of girl and enjoys making new friends. As for how this prepares her for a rally taking place on a different planet entirely, it doesn’t. If there was a page in the yearbook for “most likely to die at a shitbox rally” every nomination is her.
Name: Maria Vecchi
Age: 22
Role: Brain, Medic.
Nationality: Sicillian
Description:
Background: The very same Maria Vecchi from the original shitbox rally, Maria finds herself helping Giacomo out after a chance meeting in Liverpool causes her last shred of humanity to awaken as she senses he is very much in financial danger. Though not fond of the idea of going life and death with whatever mysterious diseases can be found on another planet, she knows that Giacomo will be going regardless of what anyone tells him and that if anyone is going to look out for that asshole, it’s better off being her.
Maria, having changed her alias to the very inconspicuous Marie Vecchi after MCP’s first meeting in Crugandr, has since undergone geniune, if not shady, medical training and is actually prepared to provide competent levels of medical attention if needed. As for her personality, she’s kept the sharp tongue fron her last appearance and isn’t particularly fond of anything or anyone. She still carries the connection to the infamous Vecchi mob family, but is still as disinterested in Mafia life as ever.
THE CAR
The car is a first gen, exclusive, top of the line version of the Arrows Arnoux, a top level trim by the tuning company Lynwood, a one of one exclusive example of what the brand can offer buyers. That is to say it’s a complete trainwreck courtesy of being created purely for the purpose of scamming gullible buyers like Giacomo. The bodywork is roughly sautered on bits of iron found at the scrapyard, and considering that it was purely made to finance Loris’ vaping habit it may have been undervalued given the effort put in to make it. Being set for 1700 does make it an easy catch, though. Either way, with an engine, wheels, and functional seats it is indeed a car that drives, and it’d better if it wants to win the rally.
The Equipment
As usual, MCP is LOADED TO THE GILLS BABY WOOO
Giacomo is not letting the Nick Jonas CD go, but other essentials include:
-
Giacomo may have a minor severe concussion but he is still drawing like a man possessed, he brings his notebook and pens from the previous rallies.
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Loris brought his rap CD and will be peddling it at the first sign of attention. Along with this are copious amounts of ciggies cause you’ve got to have a smoke laddie.
*Luci brought the CD Player because Loris forgot about it.
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All of the medical supplies Maria could steal on such short notice.
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All the tools, but without Chad there’s no way man.
Machinas Con Passione’s Shitbox Adventures Part 3, Episode 1 - BRAND NEW DAY - FIN
Epilogue - Guess Who’s Back?
Liverpool, Lynwood Twins Garage.
After handing the Lynwoods the last of his cash, Giacomo went into a brief, 3 day long coma owing to the severe levels of brain damage the poor man had recieved. Though Luci had done her best to ensure that he wouldn’t die on their couch in the meantime, the most that they’d gotten out of Giacomo was mumbling about his extraordinarily deep pockets, with bits and pieces regarding something about racecars and his first class flight that was leaving at the end of the week.
With Loris very much interested in that last part, the twins decided to make a house call for a doctor they could get to at least wake Giacomo up for long enough to get them that first class flight, if nothing else. After a brief 5 hour wait, a knock on the door signaled the arrival of their doctor for the day, and when Luci opened the door and saw nobody there, she quickly slammed it shut, thinking she’d been pranked by the neighborhood shitheads again.
Lo and behold, however, when Luci turned back around a short figure wearing scrubs paired with both extremely fashionable haircut and the trendiest glasses she’d ever seen. The doctor took a moment to take in the living room before she spotted Giacomo. Within seconds, both the glasses and her giant duffle bag hit the ground, as a blood-curdling shriek erupted from the diminutive doctor.
Was he hurt that bad?
EPILOGUE - FIN
It’ll depend highly on how the hidden reliability cap shakes out.