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The Infinity Grand Prix; The ultimate racing experience!
Topic Started: Jan 24 2008, 11:00 AM (718 Views)
~Scout~
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((Once again, this got deleted by someone last time I put it up, and it was annoying.

First 5 pages.))
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~Scout~
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((Joint post twixt Pieboy and me.))

Rsst'Hyllga'Izzha retreated to the back of the hall, quietly. He passed Dash Carthusian, whom the Kimean was sure would be a worthy adversary in the upcoming race. Rhyza stepped by two Sar Kerith guards, who gave him little more than a glance as he walked past. In the back halls of the building, Rhyza wandered, until he found the room he was looking for. He entered the room and closed the door behind him.

"Asal?" Rhyza asked expectantly. He waited for a response.

The huge, shaggy shape at the other end of the room shifted, then turned and came into full light. Asal Iphreni-Amalthi-Vasan was a massive thing, his thick hair matted and twisted. Blood caked his three-inch long fangs. He clutched a limp eel-shaped thing in his claws, half of its body a bloody mass.

He looked down at Rhyza, and rumbled, "I'm eating. Take some."

Rhyza picked up a shred of eel with one of his front claws, examined it for a moment, then put it back down. "I would gladly join you in your meal, but I have to look presentable when I get back to the assembly, and I'm sure that blood on my suit would draw attention."

He scuttled forward a little. "Has my ship been shipped safely?"

Asal tore into the eel again, his wide tongue deftly picking shreds of it off of his muzzle. In Cyriensis society, it would have been rude to refuse a share of the kill, but he'd learned to accept the niceties of other cultures.

"The ship is fine," he said, swallowing. "Running ships through Kimeo isn't as hard as it used to be. I think they're just glad to see some trade coming from us. We have it stored in a freighter in field 173 at the nearest spaceport, and we'll be unloading it to a secure hangar soon. After it gets into the hangar, it's yours."

"Excellent," Rhyza said happily. "There were no difficulties, I take it? You'd have told me if there were."

"None at all," said Asal. "And the hangar has been rented for a month, so you don't have to worry about sharing space with any filthy civilian ships. At Amar-Iphreni's courtesy."

"Tell Amar-Iphreni that he has my gratitude. Your end of the bargain is now complete, so it is my turn to begin working," Rhyza said. "We'll discuss that later. When I see my ship, perhaps. Unfortunately, due to the ceremony, I am unable to do so right now, but after the ceremony, which will be in... say... two hours. That will be an ideal time to meet in the hangar."

"Good. We'll have it unloaded by then," said Asal. "Amar-Iphreni thanks you for your generosity. I hope we can serve you as well as you've served us."

"Indeed. I'd expect no less of you," Rhyza said. "I must return to the ceremony before the media wonders where I've gone. Goodbye for now."

The kimean left the room and returned to the hall.

The cyrient finished his eel, the silence of the room broken by the sounds of wet, tearing flesh and scales. Then, he deposited the bones in an incinerator-can and padded out of the room, his 7'6" bulk making nearly no sound as he slunk along the carpet back to the exit.

As he returned to the hangar in field 173, he was greeted by five of his own species, huge, hairy beasts hunching noiselessly across the asphalt of the landing pad.

"Rhyza extends his gratitude, Amar-Yan-Iphreni," murmured Asal. The largest cyrient of the group nodded in thanks, then rumbled, "So we've closed the deal?"

"Yes we have," said Asal. "Start unloading his ship. He'll be here in two hours to plan the hunt."

((The plot thickens.))
Edited by Scout, Feb 16 2008, 01:59 PM.
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~Metamyth~
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As Faulias looked inside the room, one of the racers was looking slightly nervous. His head and eyes were darting everywhere, then he stopped, staring at a man in a black suit. Nothing seemed off about the suited man, but the racer (Faulias had finally identified him as Dash Carthusian) seemed ever anxious to get away from him.

He took another glance at the suited man; there was something silvery in his hand...

Shit... he's got a knife.

Faulias drew his bolter out and ignited his sword, it pulsing with unleashed energy, but moshing reporters came out of nowhere and pounced on the opportunity to interview the famous Dash Carthusian. The suited man disappeared into the crowd, nowhere to be found, to Faulias's disgust. His power sword whirred into silence, and his bolter-pistol fell back into it's holster.

Pushing himself off the wall he was leaning against, he walked over to the pit of questions, comments, and praises surrounding the famous racer. He placed a hand on the shoulder of a reporter and said in a low tone, "Excuse me. Urgent business."

The reporter, not even turning to face him, replied "No way! I finally have the chance to interview one of the greatest racers of all time!"

Faulias sighed and pressed a button on his helmet. The visor retracted into it as he clutched the reporter's head and forcibly turned him around. "Listen, you little scumbag, you'll have plenty of chances to do your little interview, but only if you're still alive. Move.

The reporter practically ran on air, trying to get away from him. He grinned.

Wading into the crowd, he gradually got every reporter to back off for a while, most not as severely as the first. Finally, he was face to face with Dash. "Listen, I need to know everything that just happened with that man, and anything that's happened before. If I see him with a knife again, I'll shoot him dead, but I need to know how it's related to all of this."
"Nothing... a shadow is nothing. It is merely a question not yet answered. We only fear the dark if we have no means of lighting our way.

Death comes to all, Morningstar. The world turns, the dawn comes... and under the light of the sun I shall slay giants."


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~Pie Boy~
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Sarolan saw an enormous man shove through the crowd and almost went into cardiac arrest until he saw the man was in a security outfit. Probably just a hired gun the Sar Kerith were using to reassure the humans against speciesism in the workplace, but it was nice to see a sympathetic figure for once.

"He's been following me since I arrived on Yeztelun, sir," said Sarolan, his voice carrying over to the reporters, who eagerly scratched it all down onto their holopads. He was at my hotel, and then I saw him again in the crowd on the way in here. He usually wears a black trenchcoat, and I think he usually carries guns."

Hopefully the media was snapping this up. Dash Carthusian had had a lot of stalkers, but they weren't usually intent on his death. By tomorrow the news would be full of gossip on the mysterious man, and it would be that much harder for him to impale Sarolan. Hopefully.

Dash looked up at the enormous armored man before him, awaiting a response.
"Existence is random. Has no pattern save what we imagine after staring at it for too long. No meaning save what we choose to impose. This rudderless world is not shaped by vague metaphysical forces. It is not God who kills the children. Not fate that butchers them or destiny that feeds them to the dogs. It's us. Only us."

-Walter Kovacs
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~Metamyth~
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"He's been following me since I arrived on Yeztelun, sir. He was at my hotel, and then I saw him again in the crowd on the way in here. He usually wears a black trenchcoat, and I think he usually carries guns."

"I see. Well, here, take this," Faulias said as he handed Dash a paper with some numbers written on it. He made sure to shield it from the press. Then, he leaned in and whispered in the racer's ear, attempting not to scare him too much. "Those are my Vox-Comm codes. If he shows up again... let me know."

Faulias turned on his heel and walked away from him afterwards. One of the more gutsy reporters came up to him with a microphone and a camera.

"Excuse me! Sir! What was all of that about?"

"Official business. Stay out of it, it's too dangerous for a non-professional."

"Damn it, it's always 'official' with you people..."

As the reporter walked away, Faulias sighed deeply. He had a horrible feeling that much more than intense racing was about to take place.
Edited by Metamyth, Mar 24 2008, 02:22 PM.
"Nothing... a shadow is nothing. It is merely a question not yet answered. We only fear the dark if we have no means of lighting our way.

Death comes to all, Morningstar. The world turns, the dawn comes... and under the light of the sun I shall slay giants."


Dresden Codak, Dark Science
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~Norcar~
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Norcar looked over at Dash. He's attracting quite a bit of attention, Norcar thought to himself. He smiled. Any attention that Dash received was attention that would not get back to the government on Norcaro, who were probably combing Norcaroian space for their leader. He had left on short notice, after all.

After a moment, something caught Norcar's eye. Something reflective. After a moment of comprehension, Norcar realized that it was a knife. The person holding it was heading toward Dash, who was moving into the crowd. Whether he knew that an armed man was behind him or not, the move seemed good - a crowd of reporters immediately flocked around him.

A security guard moved forward and began talking to Dash. During this time, Norcar made his way over more toward Dash. His adventurous tendencies were taking over, and Norcar wanted to know why a man was following Dash with a knife. As he came closer, Norcar heard Dash say "He's been following me since I arrived on Yeztelun, sir. He was at my hotel, and then I saw him again in the crowd on the way in here. He usually wears a black trenchcoat, and I think he usually carries guns."

Well, that's something so far.

Norcar made his way through the crowd of reporters, trying to get closer to Dash. He bumped into one, who turned to look at him. After the moment of shock of seeing a Norcaroian, his eyes narrowed. "Hey! If you want to talk to Mr. Carthusian, then you'll have to wait your turn!"

Norcar sighed. "I'm just trying to-"

The reporter ignored him. "Mr. Carthusian is one of the best racers of all time, and you're trying to cut ahead of people who have been waiting for minutes on end! Why don't you wait your turn?"

Norcar was getting annoyed. "Look, sir, I'm sure that you haven't been waiting your turn. You've probably been trying to get as close as possibly as fast as possible, while "cutting" ahead of other people. Now, since I'm not a reporter, why don't you get out of my way so that I can talk to Mr. Carthusian about important business?"

The reporter looked ready to retort, but one of the other reporters looked over. "Hey, one minute. That's Norcar Nomasha! The Norcaroian government is looking for him!"

Instantly, all of the reporters not talking to Dash looked over at Norcar. After a moment of silence, Norcar found himself being pelted with questions about why he's in the race, why he isn't governing Norcaro, and about his past experiences. Norcar looked around for anybody who could help get rid of the mob of reporters.
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~Hikari~
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(Joint post by Scout an I)

Mesiri eyed the cloud of reporters surrounding Dash Carthusian. "Good grief, I'd hate to be him..." she muttered. "I'm glad you're not horribly famous."

"People love fame and fortune and think it will make them happy, but that's not the truth..." Shinn randomly thought as he stared at the crowd of typical people. He looked at her as he continued, "I don't really know for my self weather being famous is good or not... what do you think?"

Mesiri looked around at the reporters. "Frankly, right now I feel strange just knowing that I'm probably on the news..."

"Well you are probably the only real civilian here right?" he thought as he glanced at some of the crowds wondering if anyone was coming closer. There seemed to be trouble brewing around Dash... but he ignored it. Getting implicated with another problem on top of watching the tiny seemingly sugar crazed Tanthius was more than enough problems. "Would you like to be on the news?" he curiously asked.

"No!" Mesiri said a little too quickly. She clapped a hand over her mouth.

Shinn opened his mouth to talk, but he couldn't even apologize, leading him to quickly close it. 'Damn, its high school all over again!' he thought glancing away slightly pretending to gaze into he crowds.

Mesiri dropped her hand from her face. "No, you didn't make me uncomfortable, I just..." Mesiri started to say, but she couldn't think of anything more to say.

"I don't like cameras," she said after a moment's pause.

"Well... um..." Shinn couldn't think of what to say now. "Well... um... what would you like to do?" he said in a bit of a desperate move.

But, unfortunately for Shinn, trying to turn the situation around, a reporter recognized him even though he'd grown and dyed his hair since the end of the Zephyrian civil war (he thought that no one would remember something like that).

As he walked over he brought a few people along with him... although only a few since almost everyone was focused on dash at the moment and these people thought they’d at least get a story no matter how small.

"Mr. Hikari wasn't it?" the first of the small group that walked up to him asked as Shinn used his body to semi-hid Mesiri from the press. "You've changed since you we're just some grunt on a planet during a civil-war. Tell us, why did you go MIA so abruptly and 'steal' technology in development for mass use around the Federation?"

"Um... well..." Shinn thought of an answer... but he really didn't want too much info about himself to be found out and passed back to Zephyr.... they could be mad at him... even though they probably won't care... even though no one cares about these questions... Shinn really didn't feel comfortable for some reason.

Two guards came up to the reporters.

"Excuse me, but we couldn't help but overhear this 'conversation'," one of them said. "The military background of a soldier is strictly confidential, no matter what nationality they may be. We'll just give you a warning for now, but next time we will ask you to leave."

"Thank you." Shinn said bowing his head to the guard, a female reporter blurted out, "okay then, is it okay if we ask about his connection to this Sar Kerith who fell form the stands?"

"No!" Mesiri said, but the guard said, "I don't see why not."

Shinn decided to fully shield Mesiri behind him as his usually calm smile turned nervous.

"Well... this was just a chance encounter... really. And since this chance was just a chance, I thought that I’d let her come in and see what unfolds in ere and not be hounded by cameras or reports like you outside." he joke half joked with less of a smile as they glared.

Before anyone could say anything else, a reporter that was around Dash shouted: "Hey, one minute. That's... Norcar Nomasha! The Norcaroian government is looking for him!" and the reports around Shinn backed off and charged into the frenzy of reporters that couldn't get Dash's attention.

"Good timing..." Mesiri gasped.
Edited by Hikari, Feb 23 2008, 06:52 PM.
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Excellent. Dash had some protection. Sarolan was uncomfortable with getting so close to a lawman, but he didn't really have a choice if he wanted to avoid being eviscerated. He mindlessly answered some questions about the man in black, who had apparently disappeared into the night like some kind of homicidal Zorro.

It looked the crowd around him was getting bigger, too. That was good, but it had always seemed to him that reporters reached a critical mass at a certain point if there was only one focal point to their conversations. Dash looked around for another focal point.

Well, the Norcaroian prime minister (or whatever the hell he was) was standing about five yards away. That would probably do it.

Sarolan was safe for now. Whether that would last remained to be seen, but if he felt unsafe he was sure he could some security men outside his room, although it probably wouldn't stop the man if he was really determined. Something about the Redshirt Principle.

Still, having a cybernetic giant outside his hotel room would be reassuring...
"Existence is random. Has no pattern save what we imagine after staring at it for too long. No meaning save what we choose to impose. This rudderless world is not shaped by vague metaphysical forces. It is not God who kills the children. Not fate that butchers them or destiny that feeds them to the dogs. It's us. Only us."

-Walter Kovacs
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~Scout~
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"Excuse me," an oily voice said from somewhere around Sarolan’s knees. “I would be interested in speaking with you.”

Rhyza had scuttled through the crowd with little trouble, and now was standing at Sarolan’s feet. Some of the reporters dispersed, while others remained to catch the conversation between the two racers.

“I believe that you are Dash Carthusian,” the blue Kimean said, clicking his claws together idly. “I have heard that you are one of the most reputable and skilled racers in the Galactic Federation. It is indeed a great respect that you show to Known Space to travel so far simply to race with us. I admire your reputation and your courage. On the behalf of my fellow racers, I welcome you to Known Space.”

“Now listen closely, for my praise is over,” Rhyza said, ceasing the clicking of his claws. “Come closer so that you might be able to hear.”

As soon as Sarolan was close enough, Rhyza began speaking again, suddenly more somber. “While you may be the greatest racer in the Galactic Federation, I do not race in the Galactic Federation’s races, whether they be in space or on a planet. This is my race course, and you’d do best to remember that. If you get anywhere near me, I will show you no mercy.”

Rsst’Hyllga’Izzha drew away from Dash Carthusian. “I wish you the best of luck in the race, however,” he said, his voice once again oiled. “Come with me, I’ll buy you a drink.”
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Through the whole rant, Dash kept his insipid plastic grin on like armor. His stomach, however, was churning. That marked two people in the race who wanted to kill him already, and he hadn't even come close to revealing his identity yet. What was going to happen once they knew he had just swindled millions of betting junkies out of millions of credits? He'd have to run somewhere, probably to Known Space. But what if all the crab-things in Known Space hated him now too? He'd be pretty much screwed.

He resolved not to think that far ahead. He was going to lose anyway, so it wasn't like it would matter what the Kimean said. But the thing was, if he fell too far behind, he was going to get snapped up by the Big Bad Wolf-Guy. So he was going to actually have to attempt to race with no formal training against some of the best racers in the civilized galaxy.

Shit. Now he really needed a drink.

"I think I'll take you up on that," he smarmed at Rhyza.
"Existence is random. Has no pattern save what we imagine after staring at it for too long. No meaning save what we choose to impose. This rudderless world is not shaped by vague metaphysical forces. It is not God who kills the children. Not fate that butchers them or destiny that feeds them to the dogs. It's us. Only us."

-Walter Kovacs
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