NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: If you wish to join, please go to The OOC Thread (http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=384060) and put your character info there. If you have any questions, TGram me or get to me on AIM.
_

There exists, in many places, a world that lives outside the bounds of the normally accepted culture. An underground culture, one that thrives at night, that sleeps in houses, but lives on streets. A world that defines honnor and prestige not by the car you drive, but how you drive it. A land where how much money you have means nothing, but instead, how you use it means everything.

In Imitora, it starts on Friday. The weekend, the opening of a door that leads to near 48 hours of pure and unadulterated fun and freedom. You can see it begin at five. As buisness men take their leave from offices, and start the trek home in their sedans and SUVs, the may see the occasional sports car. They'll watch as an Infiniti G35 coupe that looks straight out of a video game bobs and weaves through traffic, or a Toyota Supra that seems to be designed by an excentric DJ speeds past them in the HOV lane. The burble of an exhaust as a Ferrari or Porsche sits next to them at a stop light.

It then escelates. Buisness men in expensive sedans, in a hurry to get home to family, compete in stop light battles. Bursts of speed that last a minute, at most, to the next red light, where the kings are those who spent the most. BMW 545i's and Mercedes Benz E class sedans shoot down the highway, fighting to get to an exit first. As the sun kisses the horizon, however, these battles, no, skirmishes at best, end, and the real war starts.

Around eight, the parking lots of downtown Northampton fill up. Impromptu car shows kick up, where the only power that matters is the power from truck mounted subwoofers. Flashy lights take precidence over speed adders. The cars look like toys almost. Bright, flashy, loud. But none the less, these drivers are respected for their beasts, even if they are all show, with little, if any, go.

The clubs of Northampton fill up around eleven, and empty at one. This is where the battles that determine this war's victor start. Highways that weave between the high rises of downtown become race ways. Cars blast through sweeping turns at speeds of upwards of 160 miles per hour. The drone of exhausts echoes through the night. On the main streets, lights are ignored, and eight, quarter, half, and full mile fights turn the streets into drag strips. In the parking lots of clubs, movie theatres, coffe houses, and the few 24 hour tunning houses, challenges are issued, and honnor is won. The cars are no less flashy then the ones that prowl the streets in search of the perfect sound sytem, but one thing is different. These have power.

Four, five, even six hundred wheel horspower cars are not odd sites, in opposite, they are the norm. Fire belching beasts of steel, fiber glass, and carbon fiber roam, tubochargers hissing, superchargers whining, and nitrous being sprayed off. Intimidation is the key, but few are. Adrenaline is adictive, like any drug, and it all but spews from the pores of the drivers. This is the underground scene of Imitora.

These are the Northamton Nights.
_
Two Years Ago

The hiss of the turbo drowned out the sound off the BMW's exhaust. The hard hitting 'psst' of the blow off valve signaled the shift into fifth gear as the black M3 accelerated past 140 miles per hour. One lane over, a purple, 2JZ-GTE powered Lotus held next to the black Bimmer. This was battle to end all, the winner would claim the title as the king, the one, the owner of the fastest, quickest, best handling, the ultimate car on the streets of Imitora. And the two warriors knew their stuff.

Robert Fortier, 32 years old, and one hell of a driver, piloted the black E46 BMW M3. The modifications were countless, but one could obviously tell from the hiss that it was turbod. Further, the car was blessed with a one of a kind free flow exhaust from Dinan, and a custom Active Autowereks software system. And to add to the flames, a 50hp shot of Zex was mounted.

The car next to him was piloted by a man known only as Tyrone. He was the one person that could build a car to rival Fortier's, and his Supra powered lotus was proof of it. It was a beast in it's own right. And now, the two beasts fought it out. The scream of the two exhausts reverberated off the buildings fifteen stories up. The cars speed down the highway, truley neck and neck, neither able to gain a significant lead. The distance had been agreed upon: First to get a five car length lead would win. At the best, Fortier had pulled three, and Tyrone only two. Both cars were know rounding out fifth gear, and this time, Tyrone struck first.

The blow off valve hissed and the exahust shot forth a small burst of fire as he shifted into sixth, and mashed the little red button on the stearing wheel, with a white lable underneath reading 'N20'. He lept forward, the Lotus creeping up towards 190. Fortier waited till the BMW was pushing its redline, then he too shifted. The BMW lurched forward, and he flipped the small toggle switch, opening the valve to the Zex kit, and sending his own Nitrous Oxide into the inline 6. The M3 lept forward, quickly closing the gap between him and the Lotus. At 195, they were even, and Fortier's speedometer pegged. A digital read out, however, displayed his speed. He glanced as it slid past 200. He was now three carlengths ahead of Tyrone. At 210, four. Tyrone fought, but knew it was over. At 215, Fortier took the five carlength lead.

He stayed on the gas, bringing it up to 220 miles per hour. He decided it was enough, and let his foot off the gas. He allowed gravity to bring the car down in speed, watching as the speedometer came back to life. It was slow, but continous, 190, 180, 170, 160, 150, 140. It counted down to 100, and there Robert took the car back over, holding it at 100 miles per hour. Tyrone trailed behind, matching his speed. However, as fate would have it, karma favored the looser.

Neither of them saw the white SUV swing onto the highway. Neither saw it move out infront of them. At the last second, Fortier picked it up, and slammed his feet down on the brake and clutch. The M3, despite its legendary handling abilty, went sideways, then left, then right, then into an unconrtrolled spin. He slid across the highway, fighting to regain controll, but it was hopless. The M3 finally came to a stop as it slammed into a concreete devider at 95 miles an hour. Fortier was lucky, stepping out of the Bavarian Bomber unscathed. He looked at the car, and nodded as A yellow Integra and white Civic pulled up. His two friends, James and Andrew, stepped out of their cars, and walked over.

He confirmed he was ok, and then looked back at the car. "I'm done." It was a proclimation of victory more than anything. He knew he could build the best car, and he had. "I'm gonna keep the shop open, but I'm done racing. No more." He watched as radiator steam poured from under the hood of the car. James and Andrew didn't need to question him. They understood where he was comming from, and knew exactly how he felt.

Tyrone pulled up behind the group in the Lotus, and stepped out. He asked Robert if he was ok, then said his congratulations. After all, even between rivals, honnor exists. He extended his hand, and Fortier took it, giving it a firm shake. He walked over to Andrew's Integra, and slid into the passenger seat. "Lets go back to the shop," he said. "I have champainge."
_
Present Day

James had left Northampton, and Tyrone had disapeared as well. However, Robert and Andrew remained in the coastal city. They both were sweating profusley as they jogged at a decent pace down the sidewalks of downtown Northampton. Fortier stopped as they rounded the corner, and found themselves at the parking lot where they had started. Fortier heaved, he was getting to old for these daily 5 mile runs.

They walked over to the white Mitsubishi 3000GT VR4 that Andrew now drove, and opened the Lamborghini style doors. "So man, what are your plans for tonight." It was Friday, and Andrew was looking forward to a nice night on the streets.

"I dunno," Robert replied, using his sleave to whipe sweat from his forhead. "Lizzy wants to go to Uropa, so we'll probably hit that up for a while, then head to teh shop. How are your grades?"

Andrew, in the two years following the accident, had gone to a local year round college, in order to get a buisness degree. If he came out with a 3.8 or better, Northampton Import Automotive Performace Specialties would be his. Fortier wanted out of the buisness, and to enjoy his retirement in peace. "Good," he replied. "Three point nine five." Fortier nodded.

"Good to hear." The VR4 left the parking lot, and Andrew dropped Robert off at Lizzy's apartment. "Ya know, I think I'm gonna try and talk her to get rid of the 'Stang, and get a real car."

Andrew laughed. "I'll see ya tonight man. Say, I heard James was back in town. I think I'll try to look him up."

"Check Oak Cliff, that would be the kinda place to find him," Robert said, closing the door.
_
Several Hours Later

Fortier walked through the door of the shop. Two hundred square feet of automotive performance modification goodness. He had started the shop on his own, and it had grown to one of the most respected stores in Imitora. It was open 24 hours starting Friday and ending Monsay morning, and this Friday, as usual, it was well crowded.

He manuvered his way thorugh the crowd, waving and nodding to customers. He made his way to the store's current show car, a RENNTech SL 55 AMG. He opened the two doors and truck, revealing a custom state of teh art sound system. He hit the power button on the head unit, and it came to life, the rap song 'Do it Big' blaring from the speakers and subwoofers. It sounded perfect on the system, a great match of both power and tone.

In the parking lot, Andrew checked the shop project cars, and greated customers. He, like Fortier, was dressed casually, and meandered through the crowd, making sure everything was ok.

Inside, Fortier approached the front desk. "So how we doing tonight?" he asked Amy, one of his newer employees.

"Great. Those custom Twin Turbo kits for the G35s are going like mad. And everyone still wants to see your Supra in action." Fortier nodded.

"Maybe," he said. "Maybe."

She nodded. "Andrew's doing great, he sold off one of the Project Cars tonight. The E39 M5."

"How much?"

"Seventy."

"Shit," Fortier commented. He had been asking for fifty thousand Imitoran credits for the modified M5, but the 20,000 increase was out of this world to him. He nodded. "That boy knows his stuff."

"Yeah, he does, but not as well as you." This voice belonged to a one Elizabeth Waitkus, Fortier's new female companion. He nodded as she placed her head on his shoulder. Robert looked out the large glass front of the store as Andrew spoke with a customer regarding an EVO.

"Yeah, but I just wanna settle down," he said. Of course, as fate would again have it, he would be back on the streets soon, pushing whatever he was driving to the limits of its performance. "Lets go mingle with the customers."

OOC2: Here is where everyone jumps in. You can either already be in Imitora, maybe come in on a transport ship after hearing about the scene, whatever you want. Your posts dont need to be as long as this one, lol, and I would ask that you keep OOC chatter to a minimum. So, for everyone involved, have fun, and welcome to Northampton Nights...

James had spent the night in a 50$ motel after his arrival back in Northampton. The next morning he went to where Rob's shop was driving slowly taking in old memories...Tyrones shop closed..."where did that rich prick go?" thought james.

He pulled in the parking lot to Rob's garage and exited the car, he looked like shit...scruffy and broke. Once inside through the crowd he seen his buddy's Andrew and Robert

"Lutz!! Rob! what up fella's!"

James threw his arms in the air!


OOC: i need my Elliot Ness Rob, :) u know how to play it

Robert looked up from the order sheet. A group of kids out of Highland Village had just made a mas order for the GReedy 350Z TT kit. "Well, speak of the devil and the devil he shall arive. Whats up man?"

Andrew walked out of the back room. He was out of the suit he had been wearing the previous night, and now in a whit tshirt and jeans, both oil stained. "Hey man, long time no see, hows shit going?"

Fortier looked outside at the Celica. "New ride?"

James smiled and replyed,

"yeah..my new baby...i needa talk to you about some shit man..i need some help..as you can see..."

James pointed at his clothes then pulled out his wallett,

"i got 30$ for gas....thats it..i can't even eat..."

James looked around at the place, it hadn't changed much..he hoped some one could help him.

Robert looked at Andrew. Andrew looked out the window at the car, then ran a hand through his hair. "I dunno. Haven't really done a whole lotta Toyota work since Rob's Supra. The block is a strong one, we can work something. Bring it around back," Andrew finished.

As they came around the back, Andrew popped the hood on the Celica, taking a look at the motor. "Hey, Amy, come take a look at this," he said, shouting over the music and sound of pnumatic power tools.

A young Asain girl, around Andrew's age, looked up from the muffler she was mounting on a motorcycle, and nodded. She walked over, and looked in the engine bay. "I think we can have some fun with this. Turbo. Toyotas like turbos. We don't have a ton of stuff in stock for the Celis though, we might need to prefab some stuff." Andrew nodded.

Rob took a step back, then stuck his head under the hood. "No." Andrew looked at Robert with a confused look.

"Why not, its a good work. Turbo up a celi, we haven't done anything like that before."

Robert shook his head. "Drop in a 4G63. GReedy it. All the way. I'm talking from intake to exhaust, and everything in between. I got some connections that can do some, special, work on it. Andrew, you take care of the body work, and Amy, your the artist, I want you to draw something nice up. But dont take too long, I want you to finish the Hutchinson Ninja," he said, refering to the motorcycle.

Amy and Andrew both nodded, with Andrew going off to start making calls.

Robert was still looking inside the engine bay, when he looked up at and James. "We'll take it from here, dont worry, we'll take good care of her," he said, pulling his head out. "Till then, I want you to get used to the 4G63. Its a world of difference from the Celica's motor. Like night and day." He walked over to a wall, and pulled a key chain of a hook, tossing it to James.

"It's the black one," Andrew said, pointing to clean black Eclipse GSX ( http://www.teamgroundzero.net/db/images/1842/kennydsm005.jpg) sitting in a line of rentals. "By the way," he pulled a wad of Imitoran credits out of his pocket, "get some new clothes, and a room in downtown. Ya gotta look good tonight, the rags are gonna have photgraphers out."

Fortier was distracted by a cell phone call. Any eve droppers would be able to hear him speaking Japanese rather fluently. He hung up, then looked at James. "Car'll be ready in about a week. Also, come in tommorow with some work transcripts. I just lost a worker so she could go marry the President of another country. I need some more hands in the shop."

James glanced over at the car and grinned,

"I knew my home boys would help me out!"

He gave props to Andrew and Robert, he then ducked behind a G35 parked beside him,a police squad car drove past slowly..,

"that's my fathers car...heh..i an't dodgin police!"

The squad car sped up and took off down the street.

James stood up and walked around the GSX with a pleased expression on his face,

"Thanks fella's...ey...Tyrone's in the Correc! Caught copyin' Credits for The Italian Mafia in Unknown12....they just got em' extanged i guess...and yeah! i'll go get my new threads...and some braids..."

He grinned then got in the GSX,

"later boys! i'll put in work too..im gracious!"

Fortier nodded. "Yeah, I'm not suprised." Andrew watched as James slid into the Eclipse. Fortier watched as the car pulled off, the turbo hissing as it hit the street and took off. He shook his head. "I don't think he knows how much Northampton's changed in two years."

Andrew nodded. He looked over his shoulder, watching a lift push the Celica up so that the motor could be removed. "Want me to go keep an eye on him? You know I could let the VR4 stretch out a bit."

Fortier shook his head. "Nah, we'll see him tonight at the races. Did ya get in contact with HKS about the 54?" Andrew nodded. "Thanks. I just got off the horn with Dixis, the piece should be in soon."

Andrew nodded again. "Well, I'll start calling up the suppliers, see if we can get a crate 4G. If not, I'll talk to some people I know. You gonna be there tonight?"

"Yeah, probably. I'll take the EVO."

James ripped down the street to the 'Gucci' outlet store in the richest part of town,after that he had to get some thing done with his hair.

After 4 hours of steady shopping,james got his hair cut really short. He came out of the barbers looking like a million bucks,gold watch,gold linked chain...just like it used to be when he lived here. James decided to get an 8 pack and goto the beach. He pulled in to the parking lot to be eyed by a group of girls crowded around a Modifyed Lancer,

"ha..too much chrome buddy" James wisped grinning at the guy

The car was bright yellow with ALL chrome componets...a nasty looking thing..JAmes couldn't wait till tonight...Northampton...what had he missed out on.

The Lancer driver looked up from the ladies at the black Eclipse. He saw James eyeing up his car and the girls, and pushed himself up from the car. "What are you looking at, queer!" he shouted out to him. He began to walk towards James with a threatening stride.

Before he could make it half way, a girl rode in between them. It was the same Asian girl from Fortier's shop, on a black Triumph motorcycle. She slid off the bike, and pulled off her helmet, placing it on the seat. "Hey, step back. You don't wanna have a problem with him, bud."

He looked her over, and looked over the Eclipse. On the rear window was the NIAPS sticker, meaning the car was from Fortier's shop. He nodded, and stepped back, walking back over to the Lancer. The Asian girl turned and looked at James. "Hi, I'm Amy, I work for Robert."

James got out of the car and looked the girl in the eyes and said quietly,

"i had this love, i was gonna have to get out and kick his ASS!"
he stressed the last part looking at the guy

"but thanks...you guys got influance round' here an't..? my names James..me ,Andrew and Rob used to roll togeather..nice to meet you"

James looked her up and down thinking, "very nice to meet you..." but didn't dream of saying anything..she looked like she could wip his ass.

He smiled and shrugged his shoulders,

"what now love?"

Amy chuckled lightly, flashing a smile. "Well, I'm just here to look out for ya. Northampton has changed alot in two years. Anyways, looks like you cleaned up nice. Rob just wanted me to tell ya where to hit up tonight. Oh, and hes gonna be with someone. Lets just say a few guests. So if you don't see him to much, don't worry. Andrew will be there though, so just jam with him."

She picked up her helemt, and was about to put it on, when she remebered something else. She pulled out a piece of paper, and handed it to James. It had a number on it. "Thats my number. Fortier and Andrew are good friends to have, 'specially around here, but they only know certain parts of Northampton. Take them out to Oak Cliff or Village Hieghts, and they are way outa their element. Call me if you need some back up in a rough spot. Cool?"

He nodded, and she pulled the helmet on. The black Sprint TC roared to life, and she let the tire roast as she spun the bike around, the let the clutch out, allowing the front wheel to jump up as she sped off.

OOC: The next post will be a the spot, at night, and Fortier's next race. Also, James might get some runs in too.

At the shop, Fortier listened as Amy told him about the run in. He nodded, and told her to find James, and get him into the shop. Less than an hour later, no more than ten minutes before Fortier would close up, James strolled in. "Hey man, I need to see you in my office real quick."

He lead James to a back room, where a semblance of an office may have once been. It was now used like a small guest room, Fortier's home away from home. Bed, fridge, and a table. All the amenities of a modern home. Sort of.

"Listen, Amy told me about your run in with Kevin. Now kid, I appriciate your urge to help me, but he runs with some tough people. Now, I can handle myself, eight years in the ICMC will teach ya things. And Andrew, well, he knows how to take care of himself. But I don't want you gettin involved with any of this. Kevin, well, more importantly, the crew he runs with, isn't your beef. I don't want ya to get hurt out here, this place has changed alot since you left."

James looked at Rob, confused, but understanding at the same time. "Listen man, I know how to handle myself enough, and anyone whos gotta beef with you and Andrew has one with me. Feel me?"

Rob sighed, and rubbed his forhead. "I feel ya. Trust me, I feel ya more than you know." Robert, in his 32 years of life, had inherited many a beef. "I want you to be protected though."

He reached into his desk, and pulled something out. There was a sound like metal chains clinking together, and a quick flash. Robert held out a butterfly knife, its straight blade shining under the flourescent light. Another flick, and it was closed. "Take this," he said, handing it to James. "Its good to at least have something to pull if you need it."

(OOC: My apologies for the lateness of the reply, I’m having trouble keeping everything on schedule heh.)

Bruno steeped into the brisk air coming off the open ocean. The trip on the cargo ship had been interesting to say the least. Crammed in with mechanicals and other non-assembled metallic pieced he’d been quick to find Kayode. Their cars were both works of art in their own right, but in the dank of the containership their cars simply shined. The sailors had almost every day created an excuse to lift the covers and look at the machines. Bruno was wary of this from the start, he was surprised there was no problems.

Looking around at the city laid out around the harbour Bruno made mental notes of what looked like seedier areas, he’d need to pick up a weapon since he’d ditched his learning of the strict law enforcement in the country. Kayode was in the same boat, though his desired weapon differed slightly. Looking behind him as Kayode walked up smiling Bruno shook his head, the man was young and his enthusiasm to be here radiated like the sun above them. Looking back to the water Bruno watched the customs boat approach. He mentally approved, showing no outward signs. Kayode, in perfect Korean, exuded what Bruno kept checked.

“Hey the customs guys are coming aboard. Maybe we can get going soon.”
“*raised eye brow* Excited much?”
“Hell ya. I am going to get my air brushed Griffin burned into the minds of every one of those suckers I leave behind me.”
“You know what your going to do for mechanicals yet?”
“Well,… My sources tell me that I might be able to get some support Fortier and his shop if I’m willing to pay out.”
“Who told you that?”
“I’m not revealing my sources, they’re my ace. Besides worst comes I can always pay your guys for their time right?”
“*shakes head* nope sorry kid. My pit crew is my own, we’re competing after all.”
“Wha?”
“I’ve been in the business for a few years so I have some aces of my own. My pit crew is one of them.”
“And the three transport trucks of parts and fuel?”
“*points to nose*”


The two men stand on the deck in silence, preparing their minds for what this city was going to offer them.

While the container ship was slowly coming to port a small jet broke through the clouds as it descended to the earth. Looking serene in its approach the small white craft belied the drug induced, hormone maintained, four person orgy thrashing about inside. Coming down on the tarmac of the main international airport a single occupant stepped out. With her hair wild and her lips tweaked upwards in a wicked arch it was fairly obvious she’d been a participant in some sexual acts just prior to her embarkation. Smoothing her hair back into a pony tail she produced a hair-elastic from her wrist. Catching the last strands and fly-a-ways in her dark hair she shouted back into the cabin in Japanese.

“Get out of my plane you layabouts!”

Poking his blonde head from the cabin a statuesque Caucasian shielded his eyes from the sun. Speaking in English he mumbled.
“Jin, where are we?” With a sigh of exasperation she pulled the man out of the plane, going back inside for the others.

After a moment, and in quick succession, an oriental man and a Transnapastaini woman were shuffled out of the plane in various states of undress. Wild eyed and confused the three looked at Jin as if in a stupor. Nodding into the cabin she addressed the pilot,

“You’re free to go, keep you cell on you.”

With that an older man, chuckling at his boss’ daughter’s latest victims, closed the plane as he left.

“Uh,… Jin?” the oriental man began in Cantonese.
“Look its been fun but I have some racing to do. Nova Hope probably has an embassy, if not one of our allies might. Go there, sleep on the street until I’m ready to go, what ever. I am going shopping for some clothes and a car.”
With that she strode purposefully towards the airport terminal, leaving the others with jaws agape and eyes wide.

(OOC: They’re fluff characters, just demonstrating her disregard for others. In prison them for awhile but I think we can assume they find SOME way back home.)

Stepping into the terminal Jin strode towards the customs line. She probably looked the sight; black leather boots that left an inch of supple skin beneath the short black skirt. The dark femme fatale look could’ve been completed by something else dark; instead a sharp contrast was drawn with the low cut red shirt that showed off her back in an interesting pattern. With her T1 to T4 vertebrae covered a diagonal strip of flesh sat between the two wraps of red material; the second covering her L3 to L5 vertebrae.

While this might look like any other clubbing outfit three items set her apart. One was the gold necklace that suspended a honking rock of diamond just above her cleavage. The second was the barcode on her left hand, something sported by all Noviet citizens. The third, and most astounding considering she was in an airport, was the dueling pistol on her right hip. While dueling pistol might conjure the image of an antiquated piece of equipment this was not the case to be sure. Laser sighted, extended barrels and made almost completely of titanium this 9mm weapon was light weight and designed specifically for Jin to be able to draw it quickly.

Standing in line she tapped her boots impatiently against the tiled floor, the clack-clack ringing out in the Spartan building. Shuffling through her tiny purse Jin removed her ID, something she thought of as horribly antiquated as they should be able to read her barcode. She merely waited as the line approached the security check point.

(OOC: Just getting my character on or near the stage. This also allows me to see what kind of society you have.)

At the docks, security was a bit more lax. A crew assisted the unloading, and pass ports were checked. The men were cleared, and allowed through. However, security cammeras recorder pertinent information:tag numbers, physical features of the drivers, the actual cars, and the home port of the ship they were unloaded from.

However, the situation at the airport was a bit different.

As Jin waited in line, the clacking of her shoes brought an unwarented amount of tension. Due to a rather touchy situation regarding a group of overzealous fighter pilots less than three weeks earlier, security had been stepped up. Especially in Northampton International. One of the Marines from the 53rd Urban Control Unit, a slightly more specialized MP unit, noticed the pistol. He pressed his fingers against his throat mic, and spoke in a whisper. Moments later, he moved forward towards the woman, his CAR-48 (ooc: localy produced M4, chamberd in 6.8mm Rem) held acorss his chest. He aproached from behind, while two more moved in from the front.

When he was less than a foot away, he spoke. "Miss, can I speak to you for a moment?" As she turned, he moved quickly, using her slow turn momentum to move her in a full circle, putting his foot to the back of her knee, and dropping her to her knees. By now, the other two Marines had their rifles up, sighted on her head. He pushed her to her stomach, and placed a set of quick cuffs around her wrists. He stepped back, and leveled his rifle at the base of her head. Most of the people standing around didn't even take serious notice. A fourth Marine moved in, helped her to her feet, and pulled her off to a side room. The other three resumed their posts.

After several long hours worth of questioning, searching, and more questioning, she was realeased, sans pistol. The Marines had trouble reading her barcode, as long ago, they had switched to the use of a subdermal ID chip that was inserted into a citizen at teh age of 19. As she was released from the Marine interogation room, one of the younger ones looked up from a magazine, and nodded. "Welcome to Imitora, enjoy your stay."

(OOC: Damn that pistol was worth several thousand dollar lol. Right well there is a chip directly under the barcode, but without the proper encryption keys it’d be worthless to you.)

OOC: It looks decent so far. I'm HotRodia, if you don't remember me mentioning that from the interest thread.

IC:

Eddie walked slowly down the streets of Northampton Heights, enjoying the look of it. It reminded him of his old neighborhood in Texan Hotrodders, somewhat. The people here seemed happier, though, and a tad softer. They had much nicer cars, too. He had already seen several race-modified compacts, and it was only midday, well before the darker hours when such individuals usually ventured out. He had always enjoyed racing, especially with his father in the classic hotrods they had worked on together. There was nothing quite like a 3:00 AM jaunt to the strip for a heart-pounding thrill-ride to the finish line. That was back when his father had been alive, though. After the old man had bit it because of a car accident, Eddie hadn't even gone over the speed limit since then, let alone gone racing. There was something about those cars that called to him, though. Maybe he could try to do one last race, and try to conquer the fear of speed he had developed. He needed a car, though. After a moment, he started walking swiftly back the way he came, looking for the chop shop he had noticed earlier.

OOC: Thousands? Thats all...Just Kidding. My dad has one of those match .45s (compensator, scope, accursied and what not), appriciated to like, 5K, so I know the value of a good pistol. Dont worry, she'll get it back when she leaves...Hot Rod, I'm assuming you meant one of the lower area chop shops. Unless you mean Fortier's shop, in which case, I'll change this post some.

IC:

As Eddie walked into the shop, a few men looked up from the work they were doing, sizing him up. Rap was playing over a stereo somewhere, but was drowned out to a degree by the sounds of weilding torches and pnumatic tools. A few cars were up on lifts, getting wheels put on, and a few were over in a corner, getting body kits put on. Some were on the ground, with hoods open, and other workers ripping out engines. Finally, one of the men stood, and walked over.

He was muscular, black, wearing a garrage shirt and dirty jeans, with black boots. His gait wasn't intimidating, but more or less of the 'been there, done that, got the tshirt' walks. He looked at Eddie. "Can I help ya?"

OOC: Thousands? Thats all...Just Kidding. My dad has one of those match .45s (compensator, scope, accursied and what not), appriciated to like, 5K, so I know the value of a good pistol. Dont worry, she'll get it back when she leaves...Hot Rod, I'm assuming you meant one of the lower area chop shops. Unless you mean Fortier's shop, in which case, I'll change this post some.

IC:

As Eddie walked into the shop, a few men looked up from the work they were doing, sizing him up. Rap was playing over a stereo somewhere, but was drowned out to a degree by the sounds of weilding torches and pnumatic tools. A few cars were up on lifts, getting wheels put on, and a few were over in a corner, getting body kits put on. Some were on the ground, with hoods open, and other workers ripping out engines. Finally, one of the men stood, and walked over.

He was muscular, black, wearing a garrage shirt and dirty jeans, with black boots. His gait wasn't intimidating, but more or less of the 'been there, done that, got the tshirt' walks. He looked at Eddie. "Can I help ya?"

"I certainly hope so." Eddie coughs slightly, wrinkling the tanned skin around his eyes that look straight into the other fellow's eyes, and then continues, "I need a car. This seems to be a place where I could find one. If you have some cars available, I have access to funds that will be more than enough for whatever you can do. I'm looking specifically for a classic musclecar. Something with plenty of room in the engine compartment, and no fancy stuff. I want it to be as light and fast as possible. Can you help me out?"

"Maybe. Gonna take some time. See what we have to work with an what not. When do you want it by?" The shop was full of cars from Japan, and a few from Europe. There were few, if any, from the US. It seemed to be a recurring theme throughout Imitora.

"Maybe. Gonna take some time. See what we have to work with an what not. When do you want it by?" The shop was full of cars from Japan, and a few from Europe. There were few, if any, from the US. It seemed to be a recurring theme throughout Imitora.

"As soon as you can get it, would be quite an acceptable time-frame. What would you charge for a job like that?" Eddie raised an eyebrow to accompany his questioning tone. "I can make a down payment tomorrow if you like," he went on.

The man thought for a moment. "Ok, ten grand now, and then once we get the car for ya, I'll give you a price on it. That work?"

OOC: I basically had the day off, so I've been watching all my racing videos and listening to my music, so I'm in the mood to type up some races, so I'm gonna do that...also, I'll get Texas his car. If you want to have a REALLY good idea of Imitoran racing, send me an IM on AOL (M3Luver1796) and I'll send ya some vids.

IC:

As the sun kissed the horizon, the drivers came out to play. The highways were emptied of daily traffic, and on this Saturday night, the drivers knew the parking lots to hit. Uropa was the big one, with rumors of magazine photographers being there. The parking lot in front of the Nailston 40 mega plex movie theater was also a hot spot for the night, and so was the lot out in the center of downtown Northampton.

Andrew was with Amy, heading towards Uropa, one of the biggest clubs in Northampton. His VR4 hummed as he slid down the highway at a rather conservative 80 miles per hour. The speed limit was 60, and other cars were passing him. He was listening to Freak on a Leash by Korn. He had the boost on the twin turbo set to a light 8psi, and was in fifth, just cruising. He looked up to see the set of hyper whites running up on him, fast. He saw the lights slide up behind him, the swerve into the lane next to him. He heard the roar as the Camaro SS blew past him. He chuckled to himself, looking over at Amy. "Things hes big, huh?" he asked, watching as the tail lights pulled away slowly.

"Ya know, our exit is comming up soon, and Robert told us to be there at nine, we don't wanna be late. I dont think we have..."

Before she could say time, he had reached down to the boost control, turning it up to 15psi. He dubled down to third, the tac spiking up as he pushed the gas down to the floor. The TTed V6 screamed as he held it down, the turbos spooling quickly. He kept on the gas, slaming it up to fourth as he pulled to 110. He realed the Camaro in like it was standing still, flying past it at 115. He let off, allowing gravity to slow the car, till he was pacing the Chevy and 95. He looked over at the driver, and pointed forward. He nodded, and pointed at his steering wheel, then over to Andrew. Andrew nodded back, and beeped the horn three times. On the third beep, they both nailed the gas, their motors screaming. Andrew pulled early, bringing it to 110 quickly, gaining a car length on the SS. He stayed on the gas, shifting to fifth at 125, then holding in fifth to 160. He was on the edge of fifth when he shut down, letting off the gas, watching as the SS, now a speck behind him, rolled up. He tapped the brakes, bringing it down to 140. The Camaro was still wide open, and as he moved to pass Andrew, he again stepped on it, the Mitsubishi jumping away from the Chevy.

Andrew looked forward, seeing that he was comming up on a SUV, and swerved over three lanes. He cut back across, and jumped on an off ramp. He took a few quick turns, and screamed down the side streets towards the Uropa parking lot. They would be only a few minutes late.
_

On the other side of Northampton, Ryan Madstalls reved the LS1ed powered 2005 GTO. The black Pontiac roared, fighting the brakes. Next to him, a turbocharged Civic also reved, its large turbo whistling. The people behind them had let the racers have a few extra feet, not wanting to encroach to much. The light went green, and the two cars took off. The GTO had an easy kill, literaly wiping the floor with Honda. His car had dynoed at near 400 whp. Sure, turning couldn't be done at speeds over 10 miles an hour, but with a quarter mile time bordering on that of pro racers, on street tires, made up for it. He too, was heading to Uropa, with the hopes of meeting someone called James. Apparently, he was rolling around in an Eclipse GSX with an NIAPS sticker, thinking he was tough shit.

He turned the GTO towards the highway, his "crew" following him in a group of tuned WS6 Trans Ams, SSs, Mustangs Cobras, and an SVT Lightning. At the tail end was his little brother, Kevin, in his EVO. It was far from stock, but no where near the earth shattering power and tourqe pushed out by his brother's and his friend's cars. He sighed, taking tail end as the Yellow Mitsubishi struggled to keep up with the tuned beasts.
_

By the time Andrew and Amy reached the parking lot, Fortier had already drawn a decent crowd with his new car. The yellow Supra had blown a seal on its twin turbo system when testing the nitrous system at the quarter mile track in Kendal, and sent a piston through the hood, and quite possibly into low orbit.

His new bluish Toyota (http://www.helpsupportourtroops.net/toyota/1995%20Toyota%20Supra%20Limited%20Edition%20Twin-Turbo-blu-fVr=mx=.jpg) burbled as it idled, Fortier leaning against it non chalauntly, Cypress Hill's 'Rock Superstar' blaring over its system, the perfect balence of Amps, Speakers, and Subs sounding perfect. A rather attractive girl in sat on a custom painted Suzuki Hayabusa (http://www.sportbikerider.us/Pictures19/003%20Hayabusa.jpg). Fortier looked up from the car to see Andrew. "Bout time. Ya know when James is gettin here?"

"Nah, I'm trying to call him, but he wont answer his phone. Prob beating the hell outa your GSX," he laughed. Robert did too.

"Yeah, well, hope hes here soon."
_

Earlier That Day

"Ok man, hand it over," the man told Eddie. He took the money, then pointed to a seat. "Take a seat, you'll have a car in an hour."

And it wasn't a lie. In just under an hour, Eddie could hear the deep rumble of a V8. A Chevy V8. Out back, three workers from the chop shop were running a diagnostic check on a black '71 Chevelle SS. Twin white racing strips lined the hood, over the roof, and down the back. It was, except for the color, almost identical to the blue Chevelle SS drop top that the owner of the chop shop drove. The owner led Eddie out back, and opened the door for him.

"I'll take another 15 grand, and this baby is yours. Four fifty four SS, plenty of room in the engine bay, and number matching. One of thirty in Imitora."

Earlier That Day

"Ok man, hand it over," the man told Eddie. He took the money, then pointed to a seat. "Take a seat, you'll have a car in an hour."

And it wasn't a lie. In just under an hour, Eddie could hear the deep rumble of a V8. A Chevy V8. Out back, three workers from the chop shop were running a diagnostic check on a black '71 Chevelle SS. Twin white racing strips lined the hood, over the roof, and down the back. It was, except for the color, almost identical to the blue Chevelle SS drop top that the owner of the chop shop drove. The owner led Eddie out back, and opened the door for him.

"I'll take another 15 grand, and this baby is yours. Four fifty four SS, plenty of room in the engine bay, and number matching. One of thirty in Imitora."

"Oh. Hell. Yeah." That was Eddie's response on hearing the Chevelle's engine purring like a big cat. After looking over the car, Eddie grinned and walked the owner over to his rented Taurus, removing a briefcase from the trunk and handing it to the owner. "I put a couple of extra g's in there for you. Don't spend it all in one place, ya hear?" Eddie winked at the man and then chuckled before climbing into the driver's seat and rolling down the window. The owner nodded at the rental car and asked, "Whatcha gonna do with that?"

"Nothing. You keep it. Sell it for parts. I'll report it as stolen and the rental company will collect some insurance money. Everybody wins. I'm going to make some minor modifications to this baby, so I'll be heading out now. Thanks for your help."

The man nodded, and took the briefcase. He pulled out cell phone as the Chevelle took off, and called a friend. "Hey Fortier, its Trey. Yeah man, whats up? Not much. Listen, somone just came in, dropped twenty five large on a Chevelle."

The car was worth much more than that anywhere else, but in Imitora, there was never a huge market for the older American musscle, and while Eddie may have thought he got a steal, he paid near five grand more than what he would have been able to get it for at an official dealership. Trey had a thing for ripping off foreigners. He listened as Fortier talked, then spoke again. "Ok man, Uropa? Yeah I'll be there tonight. That buddy o' yours Ryan gonna be lookin for ya? I can bring the crew down if ya want?"

He listened again, said bye, then hung up. He walked over to his own Chevelle, a blue '69 Droptop, and popped the hood, looking at the brand new LS2 sitting in the bay. The supercharged V8 was capable of pushing a low 11, maybe a high 10. He'd show those boys cross town in their fancy WS6s and GTOs what real muscle was. Sure, it wasn't really a match for one of the 10.5 and lower street tire Supras that NAIPS turned out, or the near 500hp M3 that Fortier had lost, but still, his Chevelle was known in circles. He walked back into the garrage, making a few calls, and getting back to work.

Docks

The two men stood, their things unpacked and ready to go. Kayode shook Bruno’s hand.

“Well I guess I’ll see you on the circuit.”
“*snort* No you’ll see my exhaust.”
“*smile* Well, we’ll just see about that old timer.”

The two men parted ways. Bruno took off to look for a place to set up his shop, any empty warehouse would do. I just want to get situated and unpack the semis. Kayode peeled out of the docks following his GPS system to the marked coordinates of Fortier’s shop. He would have to outsource his mechanics and he heard that Fortier was the best.

(OOC: Just give me something to go on with either of these. I’ll fill in some more details.)

Airport

(OOC: Tell me if this is taking too much liberty.)

Jin was dour that she’d had her pistol confiscated. It was unfortunate but her strip search had definitely been a bonus. I’ve been in this country for about two hours and I’ve already been laid, gotten two numbers, found out where to buy a replacement gun and where a nice car shop is. What a place.

Walking smiling she winked at the marines as she exited the airport, one stiffened his posture, the other stiffened somewhere other than his spine. Walking out towards the nearest cab she stepped in front of the man with no fear, causing him to come to a screeching stop inches from her thighs. The man looked up angrily, only to see Jin get into the back of his cab smiling.
“Sorry about that, I just thought you saw me.” Giving a cute giggle Jin watched the man correct his tone and try again.
“No problem little lady; where am I taking you?”
“Well there’s this little shop on the corner of (insert two local street names) that sells juiced cars and I simply must taste what your country has to offer me.” Pausing for a moment she pouted her lips and raised her eyebrows suggestively. “It’s just been so long since I’ve had a powerful beast underneath me and I need that kind of,… stimulation.” The cabbie floored the old sedan and gave it a go, nearly causing more than his fair share of accidents. The thirty minute trip took ten minutes.

Pulling up outside of the shop the cabbie looked back at Jin expectantly. Glancing at the meter she pulled out the appropriate amount, rounded up to the second nearest tens digit. Slipping the money by the security glass she pulled her self plush against it, giving the man a got view of her cleavage. Before he could react she spoke in a swift but sultry tone.
“Oh, thank you sooo much.” Stepping out of the vehicle she walked towards the shop giggling to herself. “Silly men.”

When Kayode pulled up to Northampton Automotive Import Automotive Specialties, he found himself in what some would call car heaven. Flashy sports cars of all types were parked in the lot, and cutomers wandered around, representing the full spectrum of racers in Imitora. From kids driving 13 and 14 second Civics and Integras, to middle age men driving European Super Sports, to the 20 somethings riding around on sport bikes, there was something for everyone. It was crowded, but not quite busy.

A man, younger looking, walked out from inside the shop, seeing the new face. He ducked around a girl handling a motorcycle muffler, and approached, hand extended. "Hi, I'm Andrew Lutz. How can I help ya?"
_

Bruno, staying in the eastern port city of Northampton, known as Blueside, could find many an empty warehouse. Plenty of places to work on his car. The semis, a very common sight in Blueside, would of course go unnoticed.

OOC: With Jin, dont worry. Imitoran guys are just as horny as any other guys...But I wouldn't recmoned going after Fortier or Lutz. Going after Fortier may cause an international incident (and he is seeing someone), and Lutz is spoken for, and can resist just about anything. Also, before I respond to her, is she going to NAIPS or somewhere else?

OOC: I will post in a hour or so

Thanks..

OOC: With Jin, dont worry. Imitoran guys are just as horny as any other guys...But I wouldn't recmoned going after Fortier or Lutz. Going after Fortier may cause an international incident (and he is seeing someone), and Lutz is spoken for, and can resist just about anything. Also, before I respond to her, is she going to NAIPS or somewhere else?

(OOC: Creative license, wherever you think your marine would recommend.)

Eddie ran a hand through his wavy brown hair and sighed with pleasure. He ran his hand over the hood of the Chevelle lovingly. After many hours of buying spare parts in junkyards and ordering the hard-to-find stuff from some shady dealers, as well as a fair amount of hard labor to install it and the costs of the tools that he had needed, it was finally ready. He needed to take this baby out tomorrow night for the first time. But first, he needed to get some sleep. He covered the car with a large dropcloth, and went inside his small apartment. He neglected to make dinner, convincing himself that he was too tired, and plopped his six-foot frame onto the small bed in his small bedroom. He pined for a larger apartment, but throwing that sort of cash around would have attracted attention of the wrong sort. He slept the sound sleep of an exhausted man.

OOC: TH, if you want, just have Eddie show up at the parking lot where everyone else is. I'll post in this after dinner, and if U12 doesn't tell me other wise, I'm just gonna take control of James from here on out till he shows up again.

Club Uropa Parking Lot

The hatched style trunk of the VR4 was wide open, so were both door, and the Warp Brother's Phat Bass was blaring out of the car. The loud mix of drums and synths was near deafining, but the sound almost perfect. There was no haze, no static as the finely tuned speakers of Andrews Mitsubishi blared out the hard techno song. He leaned against the rear quarter panel of the 3000GT, non chalauntly, as the subs vibrated.

Nearly backed up to his car was another car, an 1995 Honda Civic Type R hatch back. Its rear was too open, and a spanish rap song was thumping over the speakers. The 9 12in subs with their custom inclosure thumped violently, trying to overpower the techno from Andrews Mitsubishi. The Civic was close, but not close enough. Despite the massive amount of subwoofers, there weren't enough Amps to power the music out of the car. The young latino man standing next to the Civic nodded, and Andrew reached into his pocket, fingered a remote, and the music quieted.

The man, Alexandro Vargas, handed Andrew a wad of cash, and smiled. "I'll get you next time man, just wait."

Andrew laughed. "Hey, I'm always game." Robert walked over, the pretty blonde with him, and leaned against the rear bumber of the Mitsu.

"Since when did you become a sound man?" he asked.

"Hey, I like my music." Robert just nodded. It was at that moment that a white and black BMW 545i rolled into the parking lot. Northampton made sure its police had good cars, and the 545i sedan had fit the bill. It rolled slowly, the drivers just watching it. There was an air of respect for the police in Northampton. After all, the racers knew they were braking the law, and were rarely pissed off if they were ticketed. Most of them stopped out of respect, as there cars could easily out run all but the Northampton's Police High Speed Chase cars, heavily modified ///M3s. The squad car stopped behind the VR4, and the officer stepped out.

"Good evening, Mr. Fortier," the officer said with a smile. He was obviously Italian, and well built.

"Officer Callone, how are you tonight?"

"I'm doing fine. I thought you'd like to know, however, that your buddy Ryan is rolling this way. One of my high units picked them up, moving in a decent sized pack." Fortier nodded.

"Thanks. I'll watch my back," he replied. The officer nodded, and slid back into the BMW, driving out of the parking lot.
_

Earlier that Day

Jin was dropped off infront of a large auto garage. The shop, "Powerbrake Performance Inititives", was one of the premier Honda/Acura tuners in Northampton. The owner was a close friend of Fortier's, and had learned to tune cars from him. A showy Integra Type R sat in the front parking lot next to a NSX and a S2000. Upon entering the store, Jin was approached by younger looking female wearing a "PPI" tshirt, and a pair of jeans.

"Welcome to Powerbrake. Can I help you with something," she asked.

DP

Eddie rolled out of bed very late. It was 2:00 PM. That was fine with him. He was going to be staying up much of the night, and would need that extra rest. Besides, it wasn't like he had much else to do. He was rich now from his inheritance, and didn't have a job or a family to take care of. He had left his girlfriend behind long ago. Stumbling over to the bathroom, Eddie looked in the mirror. He needed to shave. Badly. He decided to finish waking up before taking a sharp blade to his smooth, tanned skin. He completed his morning ablutions and started stretching in preparation for his daily workout. His martial arts training always managed to get his blood flowing and his mind going. He would need both tonight.

Hours later, after a post-workout shower and his long-anticipated shave, he cooked himself dinner as many bachelors do. His ravioli was done in two minutes and he took it out of the microwave. After eating, he looked at the clock and noticed that it was 5:00 PM. He decided to cruise around for a while and look for a likely spot to find the usual suspects. He knew there would be a few racers out on a night like this. There always were. Before going out he decided to brush his teeth. There were usually beautiful women at the races, and it wouldn't hurt to look his best. He looked in the mirror again, trying to figure out if they would want him even at his best. He had to laugh at himself for thinking it. There was no way to tell what women would want anyway, so why bother to try. He sighed and went to get dressed. He pulled on his raggedy old jeans and a T-shirt that boasted, "Everything's bigger in Texas". Then he found his old running shoes and put them on as well.

As Eddie walked to his new car he smiled. With the all the shit he had done to it, it should run a quarter mile in the low 11's. The nitrous and the shifting would have to be timed just right, though. Any slips and he could lose a second off his time. That could easily be enough to cost him the race.

Several hours later into the night, Eddie found what he was looking for in the parking lot of a swanky place named Club Uropa. It was time to race again, and these people in the parking lot with their loud music and hot-looking cars would be a nice way to restart his hobby.

Jin

“Yes you can.” Walking confidently about the cars, taking them in as she went, she spoke over her shoulder as she tried to find something that she liked.
“I’d like something fast, quick pick up off the line. Definitely NOS. A weight kit, sleek car for a sleek girl.” She giggled at that comment. Turning back to the girl she smiled again.
“I want to get into the street racing around here, money is no object. Oh, and I’d like the paint to match my eyes.”

(ooc: Her eyes are hazelnut)

Kayode

Smiling at the man Kayode spoke in slightly broken English. It’d been easier to learn Korean, after all that’s what most of the people he dealt with in Nova Hope spoke. Kayode wondered what his African accent with certain oriental slights sounded like to Andrew but he dismissed it.
“Yes hi Mista Loutza. I am looking to contract a mec, meck, a grease monkey to be my crew for de races. I’ve heard good tings about your shop, and wanted to give you de business.”

Bruno

The price to rent the warehouse was cheap, he’d managed to pay down a couple of months and set up shop. It’d taken most of the day to get the three semis unloaded and the gear set up. Now his crew was milling about, setting up their personal possessions.

Nodding to his chief mechanic Bruno set off in the muscle car to find a weapons shop. He needed guns before nightfall. There was no way he was going to have his shit raided by some greedy junkie hiding out on the waterfront.

Cruising around for about five minutes he noticed a tourist booth. Stopping in to pick himself up a map and some pamphlets Bruno felt comfortable that he could now find his way to the gun shop.

Uropa

Robert was looking out among the oarking lot, surveying the cars. His own car hummed, the turbo spooling quietly under idle. He heard the deep rumble of multiple large displacement V8s, and watched, as the other side of the parking lot quickly filled with a number of black Pontiacs, Fords, and Chevys. He nodded. "Bout time they showed up," he chuckled under the sound of the hard house blaring from his system.

Andrew looked up as well, right as Eddie rolled in, the Chevelle slowly finding a parking space. He nodded it out to Amy, who took note of it. "Not one of ours."
-
Earlier That Day
Andrew nodded at Kaynde. "Well, we're sorta short staffed right now, so lending someone out may be difficult. If you want, we can work on your car, but it may take a day or two to get it tuned in, we have a pretty long list of clientelle in line. One of our mechanics just left, and right at the peak of buisness."

He paused for a moment, then handed him the buisness card for Uropa. "Be there tonight," he said, pointing out the address. You can talk to my boss, see if we can set something up.
-
The girl nodded, writting down the information that Jin gave her. "I think we can help, is there anything specific you want? Model wise, I mean. We mostly work with Honda and Acura models. However, if you want European, we can work with Audi/Volkswagen as well."
-
Bruno would have no problem finding a weapons shop in Imitora. There was litteraly one on every corner in Northampton. Depending on what he wanted, he could find almost anything.

Kayode

“Tanks mon. I will definitely be der. For the mean, whatcha got decal wise? I like to collect.”

(OOC: Basically I’m going to ignore him until my timeline catches up with the race tonight and all three racers are there.)

Jin

Jin half shook her head and rolled her eyes, as if the question about brand bored her.
“No, I just want to be able to light up the street tonight. A new friend of mind mentioned that there was a race going on tonight at Uropa. Maybe something with a controlled suspension, get me lower down at high speeds but still give me the option to have some clearance.”

(OOC: Yea this is where my lack of knowledge about cars comes in, if you were to suggest something specific I could do some reading and answer back, but you’re definitely more knowledgeable on this topic than I)

Bruno

Bruno made his was into the shop easy enough. Picking up a variety of side arms and a couple of shotguns for his crews a revolver caught his eye. A long barreled magnum that looked like it’d throw anyone less than 250lbs on their ass. With six chambers and firing a special hollow point round this weapon would make a mess of a man, albeit with all the disadvantages of a heavy revolver with hard recoil.

With his shop set up and his crew armed Bruno set to cruising the city, he needed to find some locals with 40Kcrd cars.

(OOC: a crd, or credit, runs about 1:2 with the US dollar. Basically he’s cruising around for some people who have nice cars so he can ask them what’s up.)