[63.00]

[psychoticracer]

Ha-HAH!!

Last one there's a rotten Stinger egg.

[Erol, of course, is already there, as the rev of a zoomer engine in the background proves.

He's probably not going to sleep for a few days. Racing is far too important to interrupt with petty things like sleep, which is for the weak anyway.

Yes it's an open commentlog.]

Comments

[blitzmeister]

[Blitz was there the second he heard about it. This is good. This is so very, very good.]

This is always what it comes down to! There is no place better than the track.

[psychoticracer]

No, there isn't, is there?

[The change in Erol's demeanor from usual is marked. He's somewhere between as excited as a crocapup with a new bone and almost relaxed - if that word could ever apply to him, which it likely can't. One way or the other he's practically amicable and chatty - though even when taking a break, his eyes rove to the track layout, looking for new curves and jumps.]

[blitzmeister]

[Blitz follows Erol's gaze and drinks in the sight of the track hungrily. Even though his relationship with racing was very much a love-hate scenario, it was in his blood, thanks to his old man. One doesn't spend decades covering a sport without growing to love it, after all.

He eyes the commander, taking in Erol's physicality and body language. It is, after all, their first real meeting.]

Which tracks have you tried out yet? I'm sure going one in a real vehicle would make a substantial difference to the outcome.

[psychoticracer]

[Erol's body language rings loud and clear. He's always telegraphed loudly, and he's a naturally dramatic person to boot.]

Mountain and city, so far. I want to get back into practice before I touch the volcano track... Desert might foul the intakes, can't be sure yet.

[He glances askance at GT's comment about "real" vehicles.]

I can only presume you've never seen a real zoomer race in action. I can take these tracks faster than any gravity-bound vehicle.

[blitzmeister]

[Erol baby, you missed your calling. You should have been a television actor.]

Oh, I've seen zoomer races enough, but they're all so dull. The highest class zoomer would get run off track at the start of any combat race.

[psychoticracer]

[Erol sneers, cocky. And who says he's not an actor? He just ad-libs rather than performing from a script.]

Ah, but you've never seen me. Those clumsy tanks you call racing vehicles foul things up with too many distractions. Who needs racing skill when you can merely shoot whomever's ahead of you? Besides... they can only "run me off the track" if they can catch me.

[Yeah, he's of the firm opinion that they couldn't - mainly because zoomers don't rely on ground traction for their velocity. To his mind it's like comparing a Nascar racer to a car hooked up to a jet engine.]

I make a very... very... difficult target.

[blitzmeister]

[Oh Erol, you should have been born in Kras. It almost pains Blitz to see someone like you wasted in Haven.]

Prove me wrong, then! A good show, a challange; that's all I need. And I can be very... flexible... in my demands.

[psychoticracer]

[Methinks Praxis would disagree with you there, GT. But it can't be said that Erol cares much one way or the other, so long as he gets his fix.]

Gladly. Name it.

[Erol's eyes shine with a vicious light in anticipation of a challenge. It doesn't occur to him that he's daring his employer's competitor for a way to prove himself. All he cares about is the race.]