CROSSING THE LINE: Street Race Stories - Rave Wars(Pre-event)
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Light =&gt; Light: Human Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: InnocentSynn on 09-06-2019, 04:52:59</h2>
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				Title: <strong>CROSSING THE LINE: Street Race Stories - Rave Wars(Pre-event)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>InnocentSynn</strong> on <strong>09-06-2019, 04:52:59</strong>
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				<div align="center">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/0/02/Crossingtheline01.png)<br><br><span style="font-size: 38pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong><span class="bbc_u">Rave Wars</span></strong></span></span><br><br>(https://static.comicvine.com/uploads/original/8/84761/4349023-night4.jpg)(https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/f/fc/RaveOn.jpg)<br><br><strong>As Race Wars is being set up at an abandoned airfield in the desert, this doesnt stop the many street racers and auto enthusiasts from flocking to the region, enjoying the sun-scorched roads and the mingling of drivers and enthusiasts alike.&nbsp; A pre-Race Wars tradition is the Rave Wars the night before.&nbsp; What started as a bonfire the night before Race Wars rapidly became a massive event with many names, Rave Wars being perhaps the most popular of them all.<br><br>Set up in an abandoned warehouse only a couple miles from the airfield, it's one of the wildest parties of the year.&nbsp; The warehouse is three stories tall and each floor features different live performances from local bands, DJs, drinking, and dancing and all sorts of festivities.&nbsp; A lot of people often attend the rave and then camp out in the desert the night before Race Wars so they can get in and involved as soon as the event finally opens up.</strong><br><br>OOC:&nbsp; This is a Pre-Race Wars event to give everyone a chance to establish their characters and possible connections as we build towards Race Wars itself.&nbsp; Also, you can feel free to use this to detail your journey to Race Wars/Rave Wars.&nbsp; This event will start on Monday 6/10/19 and there is no set end date at the moment.</div><br><br><div class="codeheader">Code: <a href="javascript:void(0);" onclick="return smfSelectText(this);" class="codeoperation">[Select]</a></div><pre style="margin: 0; padding: 0;"><code class="bbc_code">[b]Name:[/b]&nbsp; {Name of your character, links to Character Sheet are allowed.}<br>[b]Wearing:[/b]&nbsp; {Your character's current outfit. This may be as simplistic or as detailed as you want. Links to images are allowed, but optional.}<br>[b]Current Vehicle:[/b] {If your character is currently in operation of a vehicle, please add it here. Links to images allowed, but optional. If you are a passenger of a vehicle, simply put "Passenger of [Character's] Car" here.}<br>[b]Date/Time:[/b]&nbsp; {Please refer to latest GM post for current date range.}<br>[b]Location:[/b]&nbsp; [Where your character currently is located. If he/she is moving to another area, please state as such here.]<br>[b]Activity:[/b]&nbsp; (What your character is currently doing. If post include a lot of activities, be general in this section.)<br>[b]Content Warning:[/b]&nbsp; {If your post contains any questionable content or kinks that others may be turned-off by, add them here.}<br>[b]Tagging:[/b]&nbsp; {If there is another character that is directly being interacted with in your post, place their first and last name here. Links to Character Sheets are allowed. If there is another character that is indirectly mentioned, please state as (mentioned).}<br>[hr]<br>[floatleft][img width=200 padding=5]CHARACTER IMAGE URL HERE[/img][/floatleft]</code></pre>
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				Title: <strong>Re: CROSSING THE LINE: Street Race Stories - Rave Wars(Pre-event)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>xPeachyPuff</strong> on <strong>13-06-2019, 13:39:55</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://66.media.tumblr.com/2b024afb173f3f28db2e45a1e20392b0/tumblr_p7vnlmEbeP1ws2odco1_1280.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> <strong>Aubrey Clarke</strong> (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=305639.msg14905402#msg14905402)<br><strong>Wearing:</strong> A black, lacy bodysuit tucked into a pair of tight black jeans with a 'O' ring belt and gold jewellery/accessories. (https://i.pinimg.com/564x/e4/1d/b2/e41db296eed543184c2769068e506eae.jpg) A pair of black, peep-toe, stiletto pumps with red soles (https://i.pinimg.com/564x/68/30/a1/6830a15ad4abb6e9d0dd97483f73f6eb.jpg) and a small, black handbag with gold detailing. (https://i.pinimg.com/564x/e6/68/2d/e6682d5a357abbbd7f92647ef1e9f6bf.jpg)<br><strong>Current Vehicle:</strong> N/A<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> Nighttime (Not sure of date or specific time)<br><strong>Location:</strong> Main Room, Rave Wars Warehouse Party<br><strong>Activity:</strong> Getting Her Own Drink<br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> N/A<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> OPEN<br><hr><br>The baseline thumped throughout the large, once abandoned warehouse, vibrating through walls and floors and into its inhabitants in a way that consumed them. Colourful lights darted about the space in flashes and lasers that matched the loud music, having their own dance to the sounds that blared, highlighting body parts of party-goers and reflecting off glasses and bottles. The DJ booth was the main source of attention, along with the bar, both sitting at opposing ends of the large room. Booths and tables lined certain areas, giving people a place to relax, though talking would have still been fairly hard in such an atmosphere, seated or not. Everywhere was crowded with different types of people, some grouping together, others dancing alone, but they all had one thing in common – okay, maybe two things – partying and cars. The community had come together for a pre-street race event, ’Rave Wars’, something that was popular before most racing bouts. These events often contained unsafe levels of alcohol as well as hook ups, or a way of ‘infiltration’ of opposing racers. At least those that managed to get paralytic had the rest of the following day to sober up before attempting to join the races. Drunk driving was one way to assure you were out of the scene for a while, maybe even for the rest of your life. <br><br>The outside of the building was almost as bustling as the inside, with attendee’s smoking, grouped up with friends or strangers and conversing. Security stood by professionally by the entrances, carding certain people, turning some away, and staying on the lookout for those fights that were sure to break out once the alcohol, and other substances, were flowing.&nbsp; <br><br>Aubrey made her way inside, flashing her ID upon request; it was a frustratingly common occurrence for her. The redhead headed directly for the bar, pushing through some patrons as she crossed the packed warehouse floor. Pulling up at the bar, her hands immediately finding the surface edge, Bree pressed up onto her tiptoes and leaned forward, looking to get a bartender's attention.&nbsp; <br><br>“What ya havin’?” The stranger stood beside her spoke up and Aubrey turned to glance at him. She frowned; he was clearly not staff. <br><br>The man was tall and skinny, wearing plain clothes with a grin on his face as he glanced her up and down, his eyes practically undressing her there and then. <br><br>“No thanks, love.” Her British accent was thick and it clearly came as a surprise to the stranger. Aubrey smiled politely, immediately turning away from him only for him to reach out and grip her by the shoulder. She followed his movements as he turned her back to face him and his hand lingered on the freckled, bare skin of her shoulder, the spaghetti strap doing nothing to protect her from his unwanted touch. <br><br>“Hey, don’t be like that. C’mon, Red.”&nbsp; <br><br><em>’Gross...’</em> <br><br>“I said no thanks.” Aubrey reiterated, raising her own hand to slap his away defensively, her expression going from her polite smile to an irritated glare. “Piss off.” <br><br>“Frigid bitch.” He growled, deciding she was too much effort and that he was too drunk to keep pressing for her attention.&nbsp; <br><br>Aubrey smiled at him, a clearly sarcastic expression as she waved him goodbye when he turned to leave, grumbling drunkenly to himself. “Bye now.” <br><br><em>’Thank fuck...’</em> <br><br>Spinning on her stiletto heels, Aubrey’s big doe eyes fell on a barman and her smile turned genuine as she leaned forward to him, raising her voice so he could hear her order. <br><br>“Vodka Redbull, please.” She paused, debating for a second. “And a shot of Patron. Thanks.” <br><hr><strong>Music Inspo:</strong> Summer Club Mix. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=npBkDZ2BbOY&amp;t=1621s)
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				Title: <strong>Re: CROSSING THE LINE: Street Race Stories - Rave Wars(Pre-event)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Heartsink</strong> on <strong>13-06-2019, 19:39:55</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-u2v17_ieuUw/WI4Q_nAB9sI/AAAAAAAABzs/M88jPttK2zMJZIFce_PPf8re8JKD_R2fwCEw/s640/image1-5.JPG)</div><strong>Name:</strong>&nbsp; Diego Serrano (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=305639.msg14905847#msg14905847)<br><strong>Wearing:</strong> Black t-shirt, black jeans, red plaid shirt acting as jacket, fake gold chain around the neck<br><strong>Current Vehicle:</strong> N/A<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong>&nbsp; Nighttime<br><strong>Location:</strong>&nbsp; Warehouse<br><strong>Activity:</strong>&nbsp; Getting some ice and a beer<br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> &nbsp;Foul language<br><strong>Tagging:</strong>&nbsp; Aubrey Clarke<br><hr><br>Diego made his way to the bar, pushing through people on the dance floor in the middle of the warehouse, the lights and music almost making him dizzy. His hand wasn't hurting yet, due to the adrenaline rush, but he anticipated it would at any moment now. <br><br><strong>"Need some ice, <acronym title="dude">vato</acronym>,"</strong> he announced with a loud voice to cover the music, waving his hand in front of the barman who despite the poor lighting would see some dark liquid dripping from Diego's knuckles. <strong>"And a Corona, <acronym title="please">por favor</acronym>."</strong><br><br><em><span class="bbc_u">"Shit Diego, what happened this time?"</span></em> the bartender asked, preparing a glass with some ice and then putting it in front of Diego on the counter.<br><br><strong>"Some ricer (https://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=ricer) on crack or somethin' talked shit outside, y'know, the usual,"</strong> Diego explained with a shrug of the left shoulder, while shaking his head. He put his hand in the glass and felt the coldness of the ice penetrate his skin. The water between the ice cubes turned red over time as he spoke. <strong>"The <acronym title="asshole">pendejo</acronym> was driving a miata, then thought he could take me 'cause he be six something, man, said he heard a rumor I was some pussy. Turns out it was his bitch ass on the floor, no surprise there... Fucking crackhead bitch,"</strong> he concluded, shaking his head again with a light chuckle. <br><br>The bartender laughed, fetching him a Corona and removing the bottle cap in a single movement. <br><br><strong>"<acronym title="Thanks">Gracias</acronym>,"</strong> Diego said, handing him a five-dollar bill, using his left hand to grab the bottle and take a long sip of the cold beverage. That is when he noticed Aubrey next to him, glancing briefly at her outfit before his eyes settled on the side of her face. Even in the dark he could notice the red of her hair and deduced she might've been new around here or a secret well kept because she looked 'foine'. <br><br><strong>"Hey mamacita (https://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=MAMACITA), what's your price?"</strong> he asked ambiguously like they knew each other. At Rave Wars you could never tell, from his experience. If she was a hooker then so be it, he would be fixed and know if he could afford her or not, and if she wasn't then he most definitely couldn't afford her anyways. Of course he was mostly just messing with her, but women in the area tended not to get the joke and get offended real quick, which was funny in its own way, at least from his perspective. It didn't bother him much as he was a master of bad first impressions anyways. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: CROSSING THE LINE: Street Race Stories - Rave Wars(Pre-event)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>InnocentSynn</strong> on <strong>15-06-2019, 01:46:37</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/qRvIFSX.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>&nbsp; Travis McCarthy (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=305639.msg14898200#msg14898200)<br><strong>Wearing:</strong>&nbsp; Grey t-shirt, blue jeans, black boots<br><strong>Current Vehicle:</strong> N/A<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong>&nbsp; Nighttime<br><strong>Location:</strong>&nbsp; Warehouse<br><strong>Activity:</strong>&nbsp; Arriving<br><strong>Content Warning:</strong>&nbsp; None<br><strong>Tagging:</strong>&nbsp; &nbsp;Open<br><hr><br>Trey sat in the loft of the RV as it rolled through the desert.&nbsp; Beneath him, his brother’s best friend, Ron, was driving as his older brother Mark was sitting beside him, half asleep as he pretended to be reading something.&nbsp; The rest of the crew was in various degrees of boredom as they lounged on the couches and chairs in the back of the RV.&nbsp; Mark had gotten it a couple of years back to give them someplace to stay and relax that was out of the hot sun of the desert.&nbsp; Behind them, Jones was driving the trailer that hauled their cars that they would be racing.&nbsp; Trey had wanted to drive his car out, but Mark had been dead set against it, talking about dust in the engine, like that wasn’t going to happen anyway.&nbsp; And once again, Trey had lost the argument and found himself doing what Mark wanted him to do.&nbsp; Such had been the story of his life up until this point.&nbsp; Mark would set his mind to something and Trey would end up following his lead and doing what he was asked to do.&nbsp; It had worked out so far, but it had left him feeling unfulfilled.<br><br>However, that didn’t mean that he wasn’t excited for Race Wars.&nbsp; He had been going the last couple of years, but this was the first year that Mark was going to let him drive in it.&nbsp; He’d been working hard to fine-tune his Hemi Cuda since he’d finally gotten Mark to agree.&nbsp; It was almost perfect, but there was one little thing that he was still trying to work out, but he was sure he would in time to race.&nbsp; So there was little doubt that he was excited, more excited than he’d ever been.&nbsp; But that was tomorrow.&nbsp; For tonight, they were headed to Rave Wars, the biggest party in the summer, or at least for those in their world.&nbsp; Trey had gotten to go last year, finally, and it had been one of the wildest parties that he’d ever been a part of.&nbsp; Drinking, music, dancing, there had been a fight or two that had been quickly broken up, and the girls.&nbsp; Damn there had been plenty of gorgeous girls.&nbsp; He smiled just thinking about the cute redhead that he’d hooked up with that night.&nbsp; He didn’t remember her name, but it was probably for the best since he was fairly sure there had been a wedding ring on her finger.<br><br>Smile still on his face, he turned to the window and watched as the warehouse started to come into view.&nbsp; It was three stories high and had been fixed up over the last few years since Rave Wars had become a massive event.&nbsp; People were already filing into the place and he could hear a strange mix of music that could only come from the fact that each floor catered to a different style of music and dancing.&nbsp; He was really looking forward to having a good time and getting to cut loose a bit.&nbsp; As they were pulling into the massive parking area, they parked near the back with the rest of the trailers and RVs that had shown up.&nbsp; Closer to the building were the cars and on the other side was a large group of tents that were where plenty of others were staying the night.&nbsp; And, of course, people were filing into the warehouse with IDs being checked and the hands of those that were underaged being x’ed to ensure that they didn’t get into underaged drinking.&nbsp; It may have been a party in the desert, but the cops still liked to show up from time to time.<br><br><em>“Alright, everyone listen up!”</em> came Mark’s voice as everyone moved to head to the front of the RV, <em>“Yes, it’s a party and yes, everyone have fun, but don’t do anything stupid.&nbsp; We’ve got Race Wars tomorrow and I expect everyone on their best.”</em>&nbsp; He got a series of acknowledgements from the group before they would one by one file off the RV and start towards the warehouse.&nbsp; But as it was Trey’s turn to get off, he would feel his brother’s hand on his shoulder before turning to look at Mark.&nbsp; <em>“You know to be careful, right little brother?”</em> Mark asked him with a serious look on his face, <em>“You’re driving tomorrow, so don’t drink too much.” </em> Trey let out a deep breath and nodded.&nbsp; <strong>“I won’t, Mark,”</strong> he said, <strong>“You don’t need to worry about me.”</strong>&nbsp; Trey could see the look on Mark’s face that he was still worried about him.&nbsp; Trey knew that part of it was because Mark was his older brother, but it was still annoying for him.&nbsp; He was twenty-two and old enough to know what he should and shouldn’t be doing.&nbsp; And as he started to make his way towards the warehouse, he was planning on having a good time and worrying about the outcome later.
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				Title: <strong>Re: CROSSING THE LINE: Street Race Stories - Rave Wars(Pre-event)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Alias</strong> on <strong>16-06-2019, 03:32:35</strong>
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				<strong>Name:</strong>&nbsp; Devin Westlake (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=305639.msg14900450#msg14900450)<br><strong>Wearing:</strong>&nbsp; this. Boys are easy (https://i.imgur.com/oh7gnLH.jpg). No sunglasses though, its night time.<br><strong>Current Vehicle:</strong> The Weapon-R (https://i.imgur.com/252pjNn.jpg)<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong>&nbsp; Night<br><strong>Location:</strong>&nbsp; City Streets of LA<br><strong>Activity:</strong> Visits a gas station, gets back on the road. <br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> n/a<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Angelina Calderon (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=305639.msg14898796#msg14898796), CLOSED<br><hr><div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/2TJjiu1.jpg)</div>Sometimes, it was a fog line. The cracked broken portions of road always changed. It was a slow process, but it happened. That chance of a sudden pothole made things interesting. Redlined, the steady of his right heel made all the difference. The weapon-R didn’t know how to understeer, the loss of traction made the speed possible. But inertia knew only one direction, and Devin Westlake’s engine was right behind the back of his head.<br><br>The fastest way between two points was a straight line, but on a road with switchbacks and twisting corners around hills and broken pieces of Earth, there was no straight line. So the starting line and the finish line didn’t have one direct line, it had an infinite amount. That was some the only fun left to have.<br><br>His tires were still hot, he could feel that around slow corners on the city streets. The weapon had as much desire as he did, or more so it felt like, these days. Driving this car almost felt wrong. He wasn’t using it the way it wanted to be used. It needed to run free, an animal that worked up energy. He’d just finished in the hills, overall, it had been a dull night. Old roads, old hats, no one even drove where he drove anymore. He contemplated his place in the world as he drove to the only gas station that he ever went to. <em>‘Am I an old man now? Am I even looking for people to race?’</em> He wasn’t even sure at this point.<br><br>With his music quietly filling the station under the highway, his tires hopped over the entrance with agility and weightless give. The hum of the engine rumbled down into a purr, and the car found it’s place. Refueling was a joy for Devin these days. Quietly, he sponsored this independent business, tucked away in the center of town. Spending some time with Simon was never a bad thing. It was a refuel in a lot of ways for Westlake.<br><br>He’d bought a coffee, and a full tank - talking outside with his friend as the attendant had a smoke outside. Simon was Devin’s ear to the ground. A lot of guys in the scene came here for gas. It was a challenge to find high octane anywhere else. So, he knew what was up, where it was happening, and who was going to be there… or at least, he had a good guess.<br><br>Devin stayed for nearly half an hour, watching a half dozen drivers come in to get their fuel, electing for regular petrol in their daily drivers. ... That was, all but one. He didn't miss a WRX, this cherry red model floated into the parking lot. Most cars didn't move like that. The engine hummed, he could feel the clutch move just by listening. 'smooth...' Devin watched this car more carefully than the rest. The Subaru made him want to smoke a cigarette. 'I think I need to start smoking again...' He felt like he was losing his mind without them. Most Regular people were like shadows to Devin, he ignored them as Simon helped them inside. But this woman was burned in his brain. The approach and stance of her all wheel drive monster would stick out more than her face. But, that was just how he was, cars genuinely interested him more than women. <br><br>Simon had mentioned them, but he knew Devin, so he managed to keep the conversation based around the car, that was until the end, "and, I'm sure you saw the driver...?" Testing his old friend, he just wanted to hear the response he expected, for the sake of nostalgia.<br><br>Devin did as was expected of him, "High octane, smart left foot..." he shrugged, "hard to say-" Devin looked to his left. Simon was even offering him a cigarette. "No, thank you, and fuck you." Simon laughed. "She looked young."<br><br>"Yeah, that's one way to say it!" Lighting up instead of Devin, they continued to pass the time under the warm yellow lights above.<br><br><hr><br>Back on the road, Devin and the weapon R were at a loss. Rave wars was … a distraction. Devin didn't like distractions. He’d known about the party when it was still in its infancy, and he’d attended back then too. More lately, it had become about the party, and not enough about the scene for him. Avoiding it was his only option, so with nothing to do, Devin was headed North again, back into the hills that called to him. He couldn’t help himself, the speedometer on the Weapon was starting to float beyond the legal markers. Impatient, and white knuckling the wheel, Devin was pissed off for no reason, and that usually meant he was about to burn through his tires before the sun came up.<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: CROSSING THE LINE: Street Race Stories - Rave Wars(Pre-event)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ron Don Volante</strong> on <strong>16-06-2019, 16:26:11</strong>
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				<strong>Name:</strong>&nbsp; Angelina “La Operadora” Calderon<br><strong>Wearing:</strong> "Casual" when visiting Fernando. (https://i.imgur.com/J4UTFjw.png) A bad ass outift on her way to the Job. (https://i.imgur.com/vUUTbEF.png)<br><strong>Current Vehicle:</strong> Subaru WRX<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> Nighttime <br><strong>Location:</strong> A friend's house/A car<br><strong>Activity:</strong>&nbsp; (What your character is currently doing. If post include a lot of activities, be general in this section.)<br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> Threat of nonconsensual sex. Homophobic slurs. <br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Open<br><hr><div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/yeOdQ5n.png)</div><div align="center"><strong>Last week...</strong></div><br>Angelina Calderon parked her WRX in front of her best friend Fernando’s house. She wasn’t sure exactly <em>why</em> he was calling her, but she was happy that she could finally see him and have nothing to worry about. She was about to ring the doorbell when the familiar sound of tires screeching behind her. “Fucking Five-Oh,” she muttered to herself as two cops, one white and the other Latino, stepped out of the prowler at the same time Fernando opened the door. <br><br>“Oh ho, look who it is!” Angelina heard a very familiar voice and turned to see the barely familiar face that owned that voice. “Get in, <acronym title="girl">chica</acronym>,” officer Benito Aceveda said. “We’ll all talk.” <br><br>Fernando had a death glare for his two guests having the audacity to show up right when Angelina did but he merely opened the door for all of them to come in. Fernando closed the door. “What’s going on Freddy? You got a girl now?” the white cop said with a grin. “Don’t tell me the only Mexican faggot I know is going straight on me, holmes!”<br><br>“Nah nah, it’s not like that!” Aceveda said with a laugh. “This here’s Angelina Calderon. You remember me, don’t you Angelina?” Angelina said nothing. “That’s it? No love, mami? No ‘Hello, it’s so good to see you again.” Angelina still said nothing. “I guess you don’t remember me. I remember you really well, though.” He turned to his partner. “You know she was my second bust? Fourteen years ago. I remember because I just had to do some pension BS recently. Let me tell you, a fucking story that was.” He turned to Angelina with a grin. “Want me to tell it or should you?”<br><br>Angelina crossed her arms. “I’m sure you’ll tell it way better than me Officer Aceveda.”<br><br>“It’s <em>Sergeant</em> Aceveda now.”<br><br>“Congratulations.”<br><br>“<acronym title="Thank you">Gracias</acronym>. Anyway, I get a 503 in the vicinity of Avalon. Thirty seconds after I get the call I see this adorable little girl sitting in the driver’s seat of a fucking <em>Escalade</em>. She was sitting on cushions too because she was able to see over the steering wheel. Hit the lights, pull the little girl over. Get to the window…” <br><br>Aceveda dropped his voice. “‘Good afternoon, ma’am. What grade are you in?’” Aceveda did his best imitation of a cute little girl. “‘Fifth, officer.’ ‘And what is a fifth grader doing in a stolen vehicle, ma’am?’ And, I shit you not, this is what I get back. ‘This is my mama’s car! It’s okay for me to drive it because she owns it right?’” Aceveda and his partner started cracking up and even Angelina had to crack a smile. <br><br>“You know, I told you when I hauled you downtown you ought to stay on the straight and narrow otherwise a pretty girl like her would find herself in juvie. They don’t do good things to pretty girls in juvie. Guess you didn’t follow my advice huh?” Aceveda laughed and turned to his partner. “Her cousin’s a Byz Lat in San Quentin doing ten to twenty. I know because I put him there.” He turned back to Angelina. “Heard you got sent to Folsom a few years back. Armed robbery?”<br><br>“You heard right. I’m out now though.”<br><br>“I can see that. Anyway, good catching up with you Angelina.” Aceveda turned to Fernando. “But I’m not here to play catch up with your beard, Fernando. You know what I’m here for.”<br><br>Fernando looked even angrier but he walked over to his mother’s old recliner, lifted it up, and took a stack of bills duct taped to the bottom of it, ripped it off, and shoved it towards Aceveda. “Here.”<br><br>Aceveda jerked his head to his partner who took the money and counted it. “What about the stuff?” the white boy asked before he handed it off to Aceveda.<br><br>“Decided not to deal with the stuff no more. That’s why there’s a little extra in there.”<br><br>Aceveda clicked his tongue. “Care to tell me what the deal is?”<br><br>“Your buddies in the force are looking too hard into that business so I moved my money to other investments.”<br><br>“<acronym title="Whores">Putas</acronym> huh? I swear I see more <acronym title="homosexuals">maricons</acronym> investing in whores than I would have ever thought. Same with haircutting and fashion. Weird how that works out huh?” Fernando shrugged. “Well, so long as you make up for it I guess we’re alright with it.” Aceveda grinned at Angelina. “You got yourself quite an earner right there.” His eyes went up and down Angelina’s body. “What with that <acronym title="booty">nalga</acronym> I bet you could make bank.” If looks could kill, Angelina’s would have ripped Aceveda’s heart out of his chest cavity and punted it forty yards.<br><br>That only seemed to embolden Aceveda more. He took a step towards Angelina with a sleazy grin on his face. “I could always take my cut in trade. Not from Angelina though. Don’t want her violating her parole. Oh wait. Fraternizing with known felons <em>is</em> a violation of her parole. Maybe I should give…”<br><br>“I’m free to see who I want when I want without any of you pigs having to worry about it. As of two days ago, I’m not on parole anymore.”<br><br>“Congratulations.”<br><br>“Gracias. And if you want to see me work, I got my mechanic’s license while I was inside. I work at that shop on Avalon, actually. Come on by.” Angelina stared at him. “I’ll give you a free tune up.” <br><br>Aceveda cracked up at that. “You still got balls Angelina, I’ll give you that.” He lightly tapped Angelina’s shoulder with the wad of cash. "Anyway, time to head out. Good seeing you as always Fernando and good seeing you again Angelina. Here take my business card in case you're ever looking to 'help out' your maricon buddy here with his business. I'd pay your rate gladly” He handed her his business card before he and his partner turned to go. But then he stopped and turned around.<br><br>“One more word of advice, Angelina. You ought to stay on the straight and narrow otherwise a pretty girl like you will find herself in Folsom. They don’t do good things to pretty girls in Folsom. But you already knew that didn’t you?” With an uproarious laugh, the corrupt pig and his suckling partner left Fernando’s house, politely closing the door behind them.<br><br>Angelina found herself breathing through her nose like an angry bull ready to charge. “What the <em>fuck</em> was that about, Fernando?”<br><br>“Why that was just fine men of the cloth preaching the good word door to door.” Fernando snorted. “What the fuck do you think that was? <acronym title="Pigs">Polis</acronym> that I borrowed money from two months ago to kickstart these investments I’ve been making.”<br><br>“You borrowed money from poli?” Angelina said, incredulously.<br><br>“I wanted to ask Wells Fargo but they frown on investments in cocaine and whores. ‘Sides when the Byz Lats fell so did the gang with the best vig available. Now it’s basically the cops or some other bitches with twice the rate.”<br><br>“You know why the cops can charge that kinda vig? Cause all the dickheads in the <acronym title="neighborhood">barrio</acronym> can do is shoot you. The cops can fuck you in so many ways <em>and</em> get away with it clean cause they’re cops.” She pressed her finger against Fernando’s temple. “<acronym title="You don’t have anything in here!">Usted no tiene nada aqui!</acronym>”<br><br>“Actually, that’s why you’re here. You ever hear of Cop Lyft?” Angelina shook her head. “The gang of poli that Acevda is in got a sweet racket. You pay them enough money they’ll pick you up from the airport or the hotel or whatever and drive you anywhere you want, police escort and all. The motherfuckers even got their own business cards.”<br><br>Angelina raised an eyebrow. “No shit.”<br><br>“Yes shit. And I got the details on their next pickup. If you make a big splash and call the TV stations right before, you can rip them off and make it so the whole crew eventually gets rolled up. Don’t have to worry about my debt after that. Byz Lats don’t have the expertise for this but I think you know people who do. Do it and I’ll give you a third of what I owe Aceveda.” Fernando smiled at her. “Interested?”<br><br>A grin came to Angelina’s face. “<em>Very</em> interested. I got that Race Wars thing coming up. I know somebody who’s going that I think can get a full crew together.”<br><br>“Oh yeah, shit that Race thing. You think you can handle two things at once?”<br><br>Angelina bent Aceveda’s business card in her hand. “For this Aceveda fuck? I <em>know</em> I can.”<br><hr><div align="center"><strong>Now...</strong></div><br>“So we're all clear with the plan?” Angelina said as she drove her potential crew to The Job.<br><br>“We're all clear," Linh said. "Everyone gets it. Plus the plan's got balls. Hit the cops like this and they’ll be pissing their pants for months.”<br><br>“We got the hardware in the other van,” Devone said. “I got a guy. It's clean, it's heavy and I got incendiary rounds to make things even more hardcore.”<br><br>“Damn girl,” Liz exclaimed. “Who do you know around here that get incendiary rounds?”<br><br>“I told you. A guy,” Devone said. “Any trouble getting the van, Angelina?”<br><br>Angelina grinned. “Devone, I’m gonna pretend you didn’t ask that for the sake of our friendship.”<br><br>“And I’ll the TV cameras will show up before the other cops do," Liz said. A little fuck you to the police from the four of us.”<br><br><em>And Fernando</em>, Angelina thought.<br><br>“Just a warning ladies, this is gonna be heavy,” Linh said. “If anything goes down...Let me put it this way. Have any of you ever killed anybody?”<br><br>“I hurt somebody’s feelings once,” Angelina said as she pulled into the gas station. All the women laughed. “Anyone want to step out into the horrible heat while I refill?”<br><br>Devone volunteered and the two of them chatted about ‘normal’ shit until…” “Angelina. See that guy over there?” Angelina gave her a quizzical look. “Hot white boy. Your ten o’clock, girl.”<br><br>Angelina saw him chatting up the attendant. He <em>was</em> hot for sure. Maybe a racer? This was one of the few places where one could easily get high octane and it always did a brisk business during Race Wars...at least from those in the know. Or maybe he was just a guy who was friendly as he was fine.<br><br>“Get your mind out of the gutter Dee,” Angelina said as she slid her credit card in and out of the pump. “Besides, I still got a squeeze in Folsom. She’s getting out in six months too.”<br><br>“Don’t tell me things have been that lonely in the past four years that you haven’t hit some.”<br><br>That was true enough but with Aledia so close to getting out… Angelina made eye contact with the guy long enough to feel embarrassed and turned away. “Get your head in the game, man. Besides,” she said as she pulled the pump out of it’s cradle and into the gas tank. “Remember the last time a white boy was good as a chica? Me, neither.” The two laughed and went back to their conversation paying no more attention to the guy as he got in his fine looking MR2 and drove away.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: CROSSING THE LINE: Street Race Stories - Rave Wars(Pre-event)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>xPeachyPuff</strong> on <strong>21-06-2019, 09:28:18</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://66.media.tumblr.com/2b024afb173f3f28db2e45a1e20392b0/tumblr_p7vnlmEbeP1ws2odco1_1280.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> <strong>Aubrey Clarke</strong> (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=305639.msg14905402#msg14905402)<br><strong>Wearing:</strong> A black, lacy bodysuit tucked into a pair of tight black jeans with a 'O' ring belt and gold jewellery/accessories. (https://i.pinimg.com/564x/e4/1d/b2/e41db296eed543184c2769068e506eae.jpg) A pair of black, peep-toe, stiletto pumps with red soles (https://i.pinimg.com/564x/68/30/a1/6830a15ad4abb6e9d0dd97483f73f6eb.jpg) and a small, black handbag with gold detailing. (https://i.pinimg.com/564x/e6/68/2d/e6682d5a357abbbd7f92647ef1e9f6bf.jpg)<br><strong>Current Vehicle:</strong> N/A<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> Nighttime (Not sure of date or specific time)<br><strong>Location:</strong> Main Room, Rave Wars Warehouse Party<br><strong>Activity:</strong> Naming Her Price.<br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> N/A<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Diego Serrano<br><hr><br>Aubrey briefly regarded the man who pulled up beside her and ordered his drink, though she wasn’t paying enough attention to overhear their conversation as the barman served up the ice-cold Corona. The redhead took the shot she’d ordered in one hand and knocked it back with a slight grimace as the liquid warmed her throat, a feeling she could never quite get used to regardless of how many times she ordered it. She followed up with a sip of her vodka-Redbull and turned, resting the small of her back against the bars edge, dark brown eyes scanning the crowds aimlessly as she pressed the cool glass to her plump bottom lip. She wasn’t quite sure what she was looking for amongst the crowd of car enthusiasts, hell, she wasn’t sure if she was looking for anything at all, but nevertheless her thoughts were mildly interrupted when the stranger beside her glanced her up and down and decided to speak up. <br><br><em>"Hey mamacita, what's your price?"</em> <br><br>Doe eyes turned on him, only just really observing the man. The two were similar heights in most part due to her stiletto heels, and he wore a gold chain around his neck that hung over his T-shirt which almost contradicted the red plaid shirt left unbuttoned over top of it. Her study was obvious, a groomed eyebrow raising adding to the unimpressed expression on her freckled features. <br><br>“Is this what I’m expected to get used to now?” Aubrey rolled her eyes, turning away from the man, disinterested in his opening line though not obviously angry or offended. “I miss Englishmen.” She sighed, taking another mouthful of her mixer. <br><br>Of course, not every English man happened to be a gentleman, but she sure as shit was happy enough to continue to spread that stereotype in hopes of more favourable first impressions from anyone who might approach during her time in the states.&nbsp; <br><br>“I’m sure whatever price it is, it’s too much for the janitorial staff to afford.” A cheeky smile crept onto her lips and she tilted her head ever so slightly to glance back over at him from the corners of her eyes, wondering how he would take the joke with rather stereotypical undertones. Either way, it was bound to be amusing. 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: CROSSING THE LINE: Street Race Stories - Rave Wars(Pre-event)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Heartsink</strong> on <strong>21-06-2019, 21:27:15</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-u2v17_ieuUw/WI4Q_nAB9sI/AAAAAAAABzs/M88jPttK2zMJZIFce_PPf8re8JKD_R2fwCEw/s640/image1-5.JPG)</div><strong>Name:</strong>&nbsp; Diego Serrano (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=305639.msg14905847#msg14905847)<br><strong>Wearing:</strong> Black t-shirt, black jeans, red plaid shirt acting as jacket, fake gold chain around the neck<br><strong>Current Vehicle:</strong> N/A<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong>&nbsp; Nighttime<br><strong>Location:</strong>&nbsp; Warehouse<br><strong>Activity:</strong>&nbsp; Verbal jousting<br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> Foul language<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Aubrey Clarke<br><hr><br><span class="bbc_u"><em>"Is this what I'm expected to get used to now?"</em></span><br><br>She rolled her eyes, making Diego laugh briefly like he wasn't just the cause of that. Apparently he wasn't the first to make the mistake, or at the very least to treat her like such. <br><br><span class="bbc_u"><em>"I miss Englishmen."</em></span><br><br><strong>"Pfft,"</strong> Diego let out mockingly, unimpressed by the mention of Englishmen. So she was from England most likely. He wondered how she ended up here as she surprisingly answered his inquiry with a jab. <br><br><span class="bbc_u"><em>"I'm sure whatever price it is, it's too much for the janitorial staff to afford."</em></span><br><br>The smile that appeared on her features was reciprocated by one of his own, his tongue rolling down and pushing his lower lip as he giggle silently. He stared at her, taking another sip of his beer, while his right hand was numb from the ice. Her voice was too sophisticated now that he heard her speak. <em>Posh?</em> he wondered, remembering Victoria Beckham's nickname and something about rich British people having a certain accent, though he wasn't sure about it. <br><br><strong>"Well, good thing I ain't on no janitorial staff, then, <acronym title="beautiful">hermosa</acronym>,"</strong> he said with a cheeky smile of his own. <strong>"Welcome to <acronym title="Southern California">SoCal</acronym>, English Princess,"</strong> he added, bowing his head slightly in an ironic manner. <strong>"Your secret's safe with me,"</strong> he continued, nodding and closing his eyes for a second like he was reassuring her. <strong>"You'll end up finding that one Lambo-owning poser who'll be able to afford you, I got faith in you. After all, he's already wasted his dough on an overpriced European ride, why not do it again?"</strong> he concluded, raising his beer to offer her an imaginary toast to her assumed future endeavors. <br><br>He then removed his right hand from the ice, the glass now mostly blood red and looked at his injured knuckles, slowly clenching and unclenching his fingers. <em>Janitorial staff</em>, he repeated in his head, mentally chuckling. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: CROSSING THE LINE: Street Race Stories - Rave Wars(Pre-event)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ron Don Volante</strong> on <strong>25-06-2019, 02:57:09</strong>
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				<strong>Name:</strong>&nbsp; Angelina “La Operadora” Calderon<br><strong>Wearing:</strong> A bad ass outift on her way to the Job. (https://i.imgur.com/vUUTbEF.png)<br><strong>Current Vehicle:</strong> Subaru WRX<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> Nighttime <br><strong>Location:</strong> A friend's house/A car<br><strong>Activity:</strong> Robbing corrupt cops. Then being chased by other cops.<br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> Violence.<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Open<br><hr><div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/yeOdQ5n.png)</div>The plan was perfect. There was a reason Linh had been as big of a deal as she was before her (now secretly ended) retirement as a stick-up woman and the plan proved it. Angelina had done her part before the job, of course. The stolen vans with clean swapped plates, the getaway routes for the women to their cars. Modifying the vans to be bullet resistant, just in case. Even for a woman who boosted her first car when she was ten and who stuck her first glock in the face of a dope dealer when she was thirteen it felt like something new. Something...professional. <br><br>“Ready for this shit?” Angelina said behind her to Liz. The middle aged blonde lesbian club owner was normally nothing that resembled the kind of woman who woud rob a kingpin and his corrupt cop escort. Which made her transformation into the hard looking bad ass even more amazing. Angelina turned to the isolated street they knew the “Cop Lyft” not following too close. Yet.<br><br>“Ready as I’ll ever be.” Liz craned her neck. “Looks like they’re in position.”<br><br>Angelina grinned. “Let’s bang out.” The Interceptor braked hard in response to the van in front of it doing the same. Angelina rammed the pig-mobile hard enough to pop the back trunk. She and Liz pulled their bandanas up over their mouths, grabbed their shotguns, then stepped out. <br><br>“Freeze you fuckers!” Liz screamed as Devone and Linh got out of the front van. <br><br>Devone started smashing the rear window with the butt of her shotgun until it cracked. “Wow, this is really well made.” she said before she pointed the gun at the cowering white boy in the rear. “Afternoon, my little ham hocks. Now give us the shit!” Angelina wished that her face wasn’t showing as she covered the cop in the passenger seat, one <del>Officer</del> Sergeant Benito Aceveda practically pissing himself. Not because she wanted Aceveda to recognized her but because she wanted him to know how much she was enjoying herself. <br><br>Linh climbed on the roof of the car and brought down a sledge on the, also well made, windshield. “<em>Give her the fucking shit!</em>” she screamed in such a frightening voice that even Angleina didn’t think she could have possessed. “<em>Give her the fucking shit!</em>” The sledge spidered the glass even worse. <br><br>“Give them the shit!” shouted Aceveda. “Do it!” The well dressed white boy, shaking, pulled a box from under his coat and shoved it to Liz who took it.<br><br>Angelina didn’t need to consider whether or not everything was working out the way it should. And so she knew she could do this part. “Now the money!” She said getting closer to Aceveda.<br><br>“There’s no money!” Aceveda retorted.<br><br>“Give up the money!” Angelina shouted back. <br><br>Another hit from the sledge shattered what was left of the windshield and Linh ripped it off. She squatted and pulled her Desert Eagle out from the back of her jeans and pressed it against the white cop’s face. “<em>Give us the money!</em><br><br>Not wanting to be left out of the fun, Angelina shoved her own shotgun against Aceveda’s cheek. “<em>Give us the fucking money pork chop!</em>” The slimy cops and their client weren’t exactly made of steel to begin with and four women with weapons completely surrounding them and aggressively threatening them with weapons was enough to break what little resistance they had left. A large manilla envelope was finally produced and handed to Liz. <br><br>In a way Angelina was almost sad that it was all over. “Do you know who I am?!” shrieked Acevda from his wrecked cop car. “<em>Do you sluts know who the FUCK I am!</em>”<br><br>Angelina never expected anything from Aceveda besides violence, cruelty, and exploitation. But now he gave her an opportunity to have more fun. She reached through the open car window, ripped off his badge, and stuck it in his face. <br><br>“We do now, you motherfucker.” Angelina tucked the badge in her back pocket before firing her big shotgun at one of the tires. Sure enough, Devone’s incendiary rounds set the tire ablaze. The other three women followed suit. If they weren’t sure that the severely smashed up Interceptor was going to be able to pursue them, the flaming wheels sealed the deal. Angelina ran to the other side of the car and jumped into the lead van, waited until all four women were loaded up, then took off. The sight of Aceveda, his little lackey, and his hapless client spilling their asses out of the Interceptor and on to the pavement was enough to make her crack up. <br><br>“Woo! That’s how we do it people!” Angelina shouted as she noticed a local news van speeding to the street they had just left. There was triumphant laughter and back slaps as Angelina took a few backroads until finally getting to the isolated parking lot. “Let’s break.” And, according to plan, they did. Angelina jumped into her WRX, with a set of clean plates she had gotten from Fernando, with Devone. <br><br>“I think we got away clean.” Devone said. “Gotta say, happy that Linh’s plan worked out, man.”<br><br>“I just wonder how much I can get for this thing,” Angelina said as she tossed the badge on her dashboard. They laughed before Devone took it and put it in the glove box. <br><br>“Easy,” Devone said as they got into traffic. “Last thing we want is to get pulled over for running a red light or something.”<br><br>“Am I an asshole? Come on.” Angelina and Devone chuckled at that. “But you know what they say.” Angelina turned on the police scanner. It was already alive with reports of the burning Interceptor and a search for the vans they had already abandoned. “You can never be too careful, huh?” It would be less than ten minutes of casual chatting, especially about what they would do with their cut, when it became Angelina spoke too soon.<br><br>“One-Alpha-Three to Base,” came a voice from the police scanner as Angelina rolled to a stop at a red light. “Confirm, license plate Yankee-Tango-Tree-Zulu-Alpha-Two as a possible stolen vehicle.” Angelina saw a Ford Interceptor, just like the ones had smashed up, robbed, and set on fire just minutes ago, staring at her on the opposite side of the intersection. Watching. Waiting. “Suspect vehicle is a red late model Subaru WRX.”<br><br>“Angelina? You said these plates were clean.” Devone looked at the same cop car that Angelina was. “Fuck, is that…”<br><br>“I’m gonna skin that <strong><em>maricone</em></strong> alive!” Angelina swore under her breath. The light turned green. The WRX’s engine roared as it burst forth in low gear. In response the Interceptor’s lights screamed. Angelina and Devone were pressed back into their seats as the WRX shot forward with the Interceptor banging a tight U-ey to follow. <br><br>“Fuck. Fuck fuck <em>fuck</em>!” Devone said. “What are we gonna do now, man? What are…”<br><br>“Shut up and put the radio to station 101.3.” Devone stared at Angelina. “<em>Do it!</em>” The radio came alive. The baseball game, the last in a series between bitter rivals, was in its last out. Even from the broadcast it was clear how intense the crowd was becoming. Angelina suddenly cut a hard left, nearly colliding with an oncoming car which blasted its horn at her. Unfortunately, Officer Baconfat was better than most of his peers as he expertly cut past the braked civilian car to keep up his pursuit. <br><br>“We do the backup plan. We need to lose this guy and get to the stadium.” Angelina dropped a gear as she cut between two cars. “The place is total chaos right now. We get there, find a spot, then you take one of the two baseball caps in the glove compartment and go the opposite way I do.” <br><br>“Base to One-Alpha-Three. Air support is on route to your Twenty. Stand by,” the police scanner said as her pursuer managed to weave his own way through the civilian traffic. <br><br>“Well that’s good but first things first. You gotta lose that fucker otherwise we got a bird on us and there ain't no way we're getting out of this shit.” <br><br>“I know,” Angelina said. In all her years of doing this she had never been this close to being caught or needed to really reach into her bag of tricks that she had long practiced and even fantasized about having to do. Only this wasn’t like the movies. This was real life. And real life was gaining on her with no easy way to lose it in the traffic...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: CROSSING THE LINE: Street Race Stories - Rave Wars(Pre-event)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Eliza</strong> on <strong>25-06-2019, 18:25:10</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div align="center"><strong>GM Post #1</strong><br><hr><hr><br><strong>The week Race Wars is being held is when the summer solstice takes place, from the dates of Jun 17-22 of 2019. Rave Wars takes place the day before the main event happen, in the evening of June 16, 2019.</strong><br><br><hr><hr></div>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: CROSSING THE LINE: Street Race Stories - Rave Wars(Pre-event)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Eliza</strong> on <strong>25-06-2019, 20:22:57</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name:</strong>&nbsp; Nicole “Nikki” Hasegawa (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=305639.msg14895475#msg14895475)<br><strong>Wearing:</strong>&nbsp; Pictured with Alpinestars shoes (https://m.fortnine.ca/media/catalog/product/cache/1/image/9df78eab33525d08d6e5fb8d27136e95/ProductImages/OG/2014-Alpinestars-Stella-Josey-Waterproof-Shoes-MCSS.jpg)<br><strong>Current Vehicle:</strong>&nbsp; 1994 Nissan GTR32<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong>&nbsp; June 17 | Minutes after midnight<br><strong>Location:</strong>&nbsp; Upper floor Hip Hop Club stage to undisclosed location<br><strong>Activity:</strong>&nbsp; A bit of dancing with DJ Konstantina and a bit of driving with Tiffany later on<br><strong>Content Warning:</strong>&nbsp; None<br><strong>Tagging:</strong>&nbsp; Travis McCarthy (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=305639.msg14898200#msg14898200), Tiffany (NPC), Raymond (NPC), Open<br><hr><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/0/09/Nikkihasegawa01.jpg)</div>Hip Hop beats pumped through the Upper Floor speakers, all open eyes focused on the lovely ladies dancing adjacent to a female DJ, who is excitedly spinning and mixing music tracks on parallel turntables. A Rave Wars hype man called out to the gyrating crowd lost in the atmosphere of the club, making known that DJ Konstantina was continuing her set well into the early morning hours. Smoke machines constantly misted into the club, providing the many lasers to manifest in the air above the club, which was already filled with color.<br><br>In the midst of the crowd, two half-Asian women danced facing each other. There were smiles on their faces as they too were lost in the music, spinning and moving their bodies to the Hip Hop beats the DJ was pumping out. For a second, Nikki had felt someone come up behind her, putting his hands on places she didn't give permission to touch, but the next moment, a familiar embrace enveloped her. “You should better ask first, dude, before you start dancing with my sister,” the man said and the embrace was none other than Nikki's older brother Raymond Hasegawa. He was the main racer in his crew and like an older brother, kept a close watch on his little sister, who had grown quite a lot between the last Race Wars and this years. His arm wrapped around the other woman, whose name was Tiffany Nguyen, a close friend of Nikki and who had a brief stint dating Raymond when they lived in Japan. “We're going to have the bonfire BBQ just like last year. I'll text you the coordinates. You can come, too, Tiffy.”<br><br>Nikki looked at her friend and spoke up, “I think we'll give you a head start, Ray. I owe it to Miss K.G. to stay just after midnight.”<br><br>“Alright, I'll see you at the sight. The gang's already there I think,” Raymond said, planting a kiss on Nikki's forehead and unwrapping her arms from the girls. He headed down, leaving the pair to the music. The two resumed their dancing and continued to have a good time well after midnight struck.<br><br>Tiffany momentarily left Nikki's presence to get up on stage, a purple wristband on her arm allowing her access up to the DJ's booth. She gave DJ Konstantina a side hug held the record button on her phone to add a video to her Instagram stories, the female DJ not missing a beat and even putting in an audible pause being dropping a new bassy beat onto the already existing track, mixing the two flawlessly.<br><br>Tiffany caught up with Nikki at the foot of the stage, who was looking at her phone, at a text sent by Raymond. “Shall we head out? I'm getting kinda hungry.” Tiffany nodded and took Nikki's hand, allowing her to lead her out of the warehouse.<br><br><div class="floatright"><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><div align="center">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/9/94/DJ_konstantinagianni01.jpg)</div></td></tr><tr><td><div align="center"><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">DJ Konstanina Gianni</div><div class="spoiler_body">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OL5ycqUKce8</div></div></div></td></tr></tbody></table></div><hr><br><strong>After the partying...</strong><br><br>Nikki, followed by Tiffany right behind her, made her way through the multi-floor warehouse where Rave Wars housed different music stages on each floor. Once on the ground floor, they exited out a back door and the two girls spotted an RV pulling in, emblazoned with the unmistakeable logo of the McCarthy racing team. As Nikki and Tiffany walked to their respective cars, her own a Nissan GTR32 and Tiffany's a slightly-tuned Audi S4, a group of guys emptied out of the RV and were heading to the warehouse. “Nikki. Aren't we going? Nikki!” Tiffany slightly shouted to get her friend's attention.<br><br>Nikki had waved to the guys heading to the warehouse. They were acquaintances she met from the last Race Wars, who from time to time went over to the Hasegawa-cordoned area of the paddocks. But her eyes were focused on Mark and another guy, who looked to be getting a pep-talk. He looked familiar but she couldn't recognize him due to the distance and them being in the RV's shadow, the moon in full brightness. “Yeah,” Nikki said, catching the guy's eye at the last minute before getting into her car, turning the engine over and letting the cars' purrs fill the lot. The crunch of the gravel was heard as the cars slowly pulled out of the lot and onto the road leading out of the airfield and to the roads surrounding it. She was following the GPS on her phone, set on a destination that wasn't at a particular address, but at a set of coordinates. It was basically going to be in the middle of the desert, which had already cooled down from the daytime heat.<br><br>With little to no police presence on the roads, the R32 Skyline and Audi S4 sped down the roads, heeding no warning to crossing the double yellow median lines and surpassing the posted speed limit. Surely to the observant ear, their muffler sounds and screeching tires could be heard across the desert back to the airfield. Other cars were racing while others, like Nikki and Tiffany, were just enjoying the ride, though pushing their respective chariots to their limits.<br><br>While they overtook one another, keeping pace with on another, Nikki spotted a pair of headlights right behind her. Was this someone following her or a guest only Raymond invited. Even as they left the asphalt and tranferred to hard desert sand, the pair of headlights followed, though did so at a slower pace. Once the pair of cars made it to a clearing, where a number of cars were parked in a circle with a bunch of drivers standing in the middle where there was already an roaring fire, Nikki and Tiffany parked their cars at two empty spots in the circle. They promptly got out, Nikki looking over her shoulder at the car that was following them. It was still a ways out and she wondered if Raymond knew who it belonged to.<br><br>“You've made it,” Raymond said, giving Nikki a warmer embrace. “Did you invite someone?”<br><br>“I thought you were the one who invited someone,” Nikki mentioned.<br><br>Tiffany looked over her shoulder as well and waited for the uninvited driver to make his or her way over. “I wonder who it could be.”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: CROSSING THE LINE: Street Race Stories - Rave Wars(Pre-event)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Alias</strong> on <strong>26-06-2019, 02:50:33</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name:</strong>&nbsp; Devin Westlake (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=305639.msg14900450#msg14900450)<br><strong>Wearing:</strong>&nbsp; this. Boys are easy (https://i.imgur.com/oh7gnLH.jpg). No sunglasses though, its night time.<br><strong>Current Vehicle:</strong> The Weapon-R (https://i.imgur.com/252pjNn.jpg)<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong>&nbsp; Night<br><strong>Location:</strong> Abuses Tujunga Canyon for a while before returning to the city. Sees the red WRX, tries to help her escape the cops.<br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> n/a<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Angelina Calderon (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=305639.msg14898796#msg14898796), CLOSED<br><hr><div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/2TJjiu1.jpg)</div>Race wars was an event. There was no stopping it, no ignoring it, no missing it. Even if he just stayed at home, he’d get phone calls, and he’d see drivers like he had tonight. That red WRX, he would wonder forever until he watched that girl race. He didn’t know any better, given the timing and the car, he mistook her for a contender, likely on her way to Rave Wars. But he didn’t know, just how little they actually had in common.<br><br>He thought about her and the car as he drove away, ‘I’ll see her tomorrow.’ The Weapon howled politely as it picked up speed to the pace of traffic. Devin was anxious. The vice was tight around his neck. He needed to drive now.<br><br>The Canyon had been called many things, the road maps had decided on Little Tujunga. For, Devin, that sound had always been another word for home. Tujunga Canyon was almost too populated for him to spread his wings, but it was still too dangerous to really attract the attention of the police. It wasn’t unheard of for people to speed on those roads. But, if they did, the canyon usually claimed them before the cops ever could.<br><br>Only someone with significant time behind the wheel could even find a way to speed on the poorly maintained surface of the pass. And, one required a deathwish - that could be the only real motivation for the drivers who chose to test their mettle on Tujunga<br><br>The Weapon-R was buzzing through the city, headed west, driving like an old man, carefully, balanced, and at the limit within the traffic lot plagued stretch of three lane highways. The music reduced to zero and his wheels bounced over that familiar bump that connected the main city roads to the backwoods shit of Tujunga pass. His lip twitched as he shifted down into third gear again.<br><br>The Weapon screamed as his RpMs launched up to seven thousand. Tires barked as the weight was still swinging from front to back over the bump. From forty-five to eighty in the blink of an eye. The first corner approached quickly. The clutch dropped and his right foot flipped to the side, all three pedals engaged and the car floated sideways into the corner. Another shift down, Flying in, only a careful tap on the accelerator kept him on track. It’d come from his heel.<br><br>His hips adjusted and his right toe floored the accelerator down, the tires wailed as his headlights flipped into existence on the road. Already at sixty four, the shift up to third again was necessary. It had been perfect, Devin shifted up to fourth and locked in. this was too familiar, too perfect, and too much fun to hold back. A pothile vanished underneath him, and swam between his tires right as the car lost traction to prepare for the next corner. His countersteer was effortless, and the balance never seemed to shift. He was a tidal wave, ploughing through corners as if they were straight lines.<br><br>Tujunga had uphill and downhill sections. So, a new driver might lost track of that while focusing on the depth of the corners. Devin transferred his mind set constantly. Every corner was an old friend, and he had his brake points memorized.<br><br>The engine wasn’t astounding, but it did scream out as he drove. It was four cylinders, but it was fine tuned, and bored out. The camshaft was a wasp nest and the light weight of the car gave him an agility like that of a go kart. He challenged other drivers that followed the road signs, sliding over the yellow lines, making his own road, and scaring people shitless in the process. <br><br>Eleven miles came and went in no time. Devin was almost frustrated. On a good night, he would keep driving, take Placerita Canyon and find somewhere to eat in Santa Clarita. But not on this night. He needed another eleven miles. So his brake lights flared, the tires squealed, melted hot and smoking already. The handbrake jerked and the mid range car flipped with ease. The U-turn met a burnout, and Devin was shifting back up into third at sixty within four seconds. <br><br>There had been no one this time, to slow him down or to make him change his lines. It was open roads for eight minutes of heaven. The Weapon sang in a flawless rhythm as the engine and the tires came in concert together. By the end, Devin was satisfied, and he was on his way home for a drink and a modest salted dinner. <br><br>But…<br><br>The helicopter was the first telling sign that something was about to be very different about tonight. It wasn’t looking for him, he could tell that as he looked up through his windshield. So, he drove on, as normal, following the protocol of the streets. He knew that when he was in the city, he was in enemy territory. Cop cars would never catch him in the hills. Here, with traffic lights and multiple squadcars, shit got sketchy fast.<br><br>Two minutes later, he spotted her. “Huh…?” Devin wasn’t sure what he was seeing at first. She was taking a right with a signal, everything looked normal. He couldn’t see her through the tinted windows, but her driving looked gated, held back, and contemplative. She looked unnaturally bored as she turned. To Devin’s left, he saw red and blue.<br><br>Flashing white and red and blue. “Oh…!” This much was obvious. It had flipped a bitch to get behind her. Devin was stopped at the red where the cop had just changed the light with his lights. It was a familiar sight. They were looking for her, and they’d found her. The moment Devin saw smoke kick out of the cops exhaust, he ignored the light. The car went into first gear, and kicked up a screech as the white MR-2 leaped in front of traffic. Horns honked and two civilian drivers found each other's bumpers. The cop was speeding up to catch the WRX, and Devin was much much faster. Everyone turned left, and Devin came through the corner sideways, tires screaming, shifting down into second gear in order to straighten out.<br><br>The beehive of the engine behind his head stroked up to eight thousand before he shifted. He kicked the clutch and popped his brakes. The MR2 passed the police car sideways, his flip up lights pointed right at the squad car’s driver. Whipping his back end around, The car jostled and found a new balance point. It had been a soft tailing drift at fifty miles an hour. He’d cut off the cop, slowed down, and then nearly whipped him with his right tail light. without an option, the cop hit his brakes before deciding what to do. <br><br>Devin straightened out and slammed on his gas. The Weapon hopped when he drove it like this, hungry to get out of the lower gears, aching for another long sweeping corner. He climbed up the ladder of traffic before he set himself behind the WRX. Three cop cars with lights were behind him now as the civilian traffic made room off to the right. He flicked his high beams one time into her mirrors. It was the universal signal for ‘speed up.’ Devin wasn’t just telling her to go faster, though. He was telling her to run - to run hard. He wondered if she recongnized his car from the front like this. An MR2 had a very unique lighting set up, and he had been sideways behind her, purposefully trying to wreck a cop.<br><br>It hadn’t been the plan for the night, but Devin never really remembered making the decision to do it, and it was too late now to undo it. He was in a high speed chase… in the middle of the city. This was only going to end one way for sure. Someone was going to crash. If he and the cherry red WRX were lucky, it was going to be a sequence of squad cars, twisted up in their wake.<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: CROSSING THE LINE: Street Race Stories - Rave Wars(Pre-event)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>InnocentSynn</strong> on <strong>26-06-2019, 23:10:55</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/qRvIFSX.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>&nbsp; Travis McCarthy (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=305639.msg14898200#msg14898200)<br><strong>Wearing:</strong>&nbsp; Grey t-shirt, blue jeans, black boots<br><strong>Current Vehicle:</strong>&nbsp; 1968 Hemi Barracuda<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong>&nbsp; Nighttime<br><strong>Location:</strong>&nbsp; Undisclosed Location<br><strong>Activity:</strong>&nbsp; Change of Plans<br><strong>Content Warning:</strong>&nbsp; None<br><strong>Tagging:</strong>&nbsp; &nbsp;Nikki Hasegawa (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=305639.msg14895475#msg14895475)<br><hr><br>Trey was heading into the warehouse when he spotted two girls that he thought looked vaguely familiar to him.&nbsp; He paused as he looked a bit closer, the lights of the RV helping him to see a bit and he could definitely swear that he knew who she was, but he couldn't place the name.&nbsp; Still, she seemed to know who he was as she caught his eye and there seemed like there was a moment there, but he wasn't sure what it was.&nbsp; Seeing her hop into her car, he would've just moved to head back into the warehouse, but just then his phone went off.&nbsp; Pulling it out, he saw that it was a text from a friend of his.&nbsp; And all it had was a set of coordinates that he vaguely recognized as somewhere in the desert along with the words "bonfire cookout" attached to it.&nbsp; He looked and saw that his brother had gotten the same message, but didn't seem to be that interested in it.&nbsp; Looking at the warehouse, he then looked back down at his phone and made a split-second decision.&nbsp; <strong>"Hey Mark,"</strong> he shouted into the RV, <strong>"I'm gonna go to this bonfire thing!&nbsp; I'll be back before dawn."</strong><br><br>Mark said something and Trey took it as an acknowledgement of his plans.&nbsp; Heading back to the trailer, he would unhook his Hemi Barracuda from the trailer before hopping into the driver's seat and turned over the engine, smiling at the powerful roar that filled the air.&nbsp; Carefully backing it off the trailer, he would continue to smile as he entered the coordinates into his phone's GPS and place it in the mount that he'd placed in the dashboard so that he could use it without worry.&nbsp; As he thought, it would lead him to somewhere in the desert and he started to ride towards them, aware that he was now following a pair of cars.&nbsp; He hung back a bit despite the fact that he could probably overtake them if he wanted to do so, noting how they seemed to be going back and forth on who was taking the lead.&nbsp; It indicated to him that the two drivers were friends and got along well.<br><br>He saw the fire before he saw the cars that circled it or the people that were within the circle.&nbsp; It was already a roaring blaze and he smiled as he could hear music as well, probably from someone's speaker system in their car.&nbsp; His car wasn't much in the way of musical capability, but some people put a lot of money into that more than performance parts.&nbsp; As he drew closer to the circle, he saw the two cars that he'd been following park in empty spots and noticed that the only empty spot that he could easily access was right next to them.&nbsp; He also noticed one of the girls gesturing towards his car and seemed to be saying something to someone.&nbsp; And as that someone stepped into the headlights, he knew who that was.&nbsp; Raymond Hasegawa, a sometimes friend, sometimes rival of his other brother.&nbsp; It was then that he placed one of the girls as his younger sister, Nikki.<br><br>He shook his head a bit as he realized that Raymond was probably the one hosting this bonfire and that he would end up being a bit of an outsider.&nbsp; Still, it was far too late for him to turn around and leave as by now, someone would've recognized his car and consequently who he was.&nbsp; So he just had to lean into the situation and try not to make a fool of himself.&nbsp; Pulling into the spot next to the girls, he would kill the engine and get out of his car.&nbsp; Looking around, he would look at Raymond, figuring that he was the one that he would have to make good with.&nbsp; <strong>"Hope you don't mind, but someone sent me an invite,"</strong> he said, <strong>"And I figured that this sounded a bit more fun than the warehouse."</strong>&nbsp; Looking from Raymond to the girls and then back again, he waited to see if he would be accepted or if he would be asked to leave.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: CROSSING THE LINE: Street Race Stories - Rave Wars(Pre-event)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Eliza</strong> on <strong>03-07-2019, 14:50:20</strong>
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				<strong>Name:</strong>&nbsp; Nicole “Nikki” Hasegawa (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=305639.msg14895475#msg14895475)<br><strong>Wearing:</strong>&nbsp; Pictured with Alpinestars shoes (https://m.fortnine.ca/media/catalog/product/cache/1/image/9df78eab33525d08d6e5fb8d27136e95/ProductImages/OG/2014-Alpinestars-Stella-Josey-Waterproof-Shoes-MCSS.jpg)<br><strong>Current Vehicle:</strong>&nbsp; 1994 Nissan GTR32<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong>&nbsp; June 17 | Minutes after midnight<br><strong>Location:</strong>&nbsp; Private Desert Bonfire<br><strong>Activity:</strong>&nbsp; Talking with Tiffany<br><strong>Content Warning:</strong>&nbsp; None<br><strong>Tagging:</strong>&nbsp; Travis McCarthy (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=305639.msg14898200#msg14898200), Tiffany (NPC), Raymond (NPC), Open<br><hr><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/0/09/Nikkihasegawa01.jpg)</div>If the pair of headlights was a car and it planned on parking as part of the circle, Tiffany could see that it would have to take up the last spot that was really reserved for someone whom Raymond wanted to be here, but it looked like <em>she</em> was a no-show as of late. “Hey Ray, isn't your new girlfriend gonna be here?”<br><br>Raymond, snacking on some chips someone brought over, frowned at Tiffany. The only reason why he tolerated her being here in close proximity was because she and his little sister was best friends. But it was his distaste of her career as an aspiring import model and the fact that she liked eurotuned cars rather than JDM that soured their relationship. He didn't even divulge the fact that he was in a new relationship with something and he knew her source would have been Nikki. “Unfortunately, she's going to be sick until the end of Race Wars.”<br><br>Nikki, observing the tension between the two, chose to save the moment by taking Tiffany by the hand to get some food, though she too was wondering who the unknown American muscle car belonged to as it slowly crept into the empty spot. To the untrained eye, the unknown visitor's vehicle was a muscle while most of the others were imports. Raymond stood near the fire, waiting for the visitor to come out so he could give him a proper greeting. Maybe even keep his crew at bay. When the driver exited the vehicle, Raymond had a smile on his face and had a slight nod as none other than his rival's little brother, Travis McCarthy, had paid his little get-together a visit. He of course sent a text to older brother Mark, but he assumed the invite coordinates was extended to his crew, his little brother included. Raymond chuckled at the greeting, which was vastly different from how Mark would greet him. “We don't have the best sound system and no shelter from a freak rain, but at least we have some friendly rivalry to grace our little get-together. I take it Mark couldn't make it. Quite a shame, but make yourself at home. You're welcome here, bro,” Raymond said and offered him a handshake. “My man Tino's manning the grill and you can get yourself a drink from any of the coolers.”<br><br>Nikki and Tiffany were watching from the non-alcoholic drink cooler, with Nikki with an IZZE and Tiffany with a Snapple. Once he was in the light of the fire, Nikki realized that Mark McCarthy's little brother was the one who paid their bonfire a visit. She knew he had a little brother, but he was probably cooped up in the garage most times. She was glad, knowing that there wasn't going to be a fight brewing at their friendly get-together. Tiffany had left to lean against her car, with another of Raymond's crew walking over to have a chat with her. Nikki stayed near the cooler, watching the friendly exchange between Mark's brother and her own.<br><br>But when she saw that he was heading to the cooler next to her, she shyly diverted to walk over to her car with her raspberrry IZZE in hand, leaning on the side opposite Tiffany's blue S4.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: CROSSING THE LINE: Street Race Stories - Rave Wars(Pre-event)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Writersblockade</strong> on <strong>04-07-2019, 05:40:41</strong>
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				<strong>Name:</strong>&nbsp; Riley "Rip" Thompson (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=305639.msg14909092#msg14909092)<br><strong>Wearing:</strong> Baggy jeans, open short sleeve tommy bahama-esque shirt, without the need to wear sunglasses to see it, fly ass sneakers&nbsp; <br><strong>Current Vehicle:</strong>Bringing his baby girl out for fun (https://i.pinimg.com/originals/4e/73/92/4e739218ccd83da7ec38826c41289adf.jpg)<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> Zee night!<br><strong>Location:</strong> Outside, then inside the party<br><strong>Activity:</strong>Getting his hustle on before he gets the party started!&nbsp; <br><strong>Content Warning:</strong>Family friendly!<br><strong>Tagging:</strong>Open<br><hr><div class="floatleft">(https://nation.com.pk/digital_images/medium/2017-03-21/drake-breaks-ed-sheeran-s-young-record-on-spotify-1490118298-4185.jpg)</div><br>Race wars...without a crew. He was fucking nuts. He knew it, but it didn't matter. He didn't have a support team, didn't have much in the way or spare parts, or a chance in hell. Didn't matter. When he showed up on the street, he didn't have any of that stuff there, either, but there was something...imposing about Race Wars. Like next level shit, imposing, but he couldn't think about it for long or he'd lose his nerve. He told his boss he needed some time off, and nearly got his ass chewed off, but he impressed the importance of the time. Family obligations...real grey and real sad. Nobody liked sad, because it made them uncomfortable to have to be empathetic when they don't want to be.<br><br>So time off it was, but there was going to be hell to pay when he got back. If he could land a few new investors while he was gone, it could go a long way to helping him stay in his boss' good graces. This was actually why he was chilling out&nbsp; outside the warehouse with a couple of guys who seemed like they had money to burn, and was giving them the gospel according to Rip. "Guys, guys, guys! Listen! No seriously, check this...we do this. We do it because it's who we are, and what we do, word?" The guys nodded, one of them passed the weed to another, but he had their attention<br><br>&nbsp;"Now, listen...nobody likes to think about the shit, but whatchoo gonna do with all that paper you tryin ta chase? Huh? Bitches, bud, and upgrades, right?" They all laughed and nodded "That's right, brah, that's dat shit!" one of them said before he took a long pull of the bud. "And ain't nothing wrong with that, man. Nothing at all, but yo check it...you got family? A mom...baby momma...kid? Hell, even a grandma somewhere you can still feel beating yo ass when she just look at you?" They all laughed at that. Grandmothers are notorious ass beaters. "Then you gotta try to look out for them. Yo, straight up, cross mah heart, I hope you all die old as hell getting yo dick pummeled to death from some phat ass stripper, but sometimes the man upstairs has got other plans, word?"<br><br>And on he went. How setting up an account can make their money work for them, and how if some shit went down they could leave that money to the ones they care about. Phone numbers were shared, and the weed was still passed around. Provided they all got through Race Wars intact, he'd make sure he gave them a call to chase down the lead. It was possible that they wouldn't pan out, but sometimes you just never knew. People had a way of surprising you, and family...family was big where they all were from. Peoples...familia...however you wanted to call it, no sane person who looked at the big scary thing called 'the future' ever came out the same. And sometimes a glimpse was all you needed.<br><br>"Now that I've talked your ears off, I'll leave ya'll be. Thanks for your time, and the bomb ass weed, man!" With a series of hand-shaking hugs, he rolled up to the door with his arms out "Let's get dis shit starteeeeed!"<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: CROSSING THE LINE: Street Race Stories - Rave Wars(Pre-event)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lynnette</strong> on <strong>04-07-2019, 13:30:07</strong>
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				<strong>Name:</strong> Lindsay Williams (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=305639.msg14944205#msg14944205)<br><strong>Wearing:</strong> Leather jacket, white blouse, dark-blue skinny jeans, sneakers<br><strong>Current Vehicle:</strong> 2003 Corvette C5 (https://i.imgur.com/ZfblWM0.png)<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong>&nbsp; June 17th, just past midnight<br><strong>Location:</strong>&nbsp; Entrance to the warehouse<br><strong>Activity:</strong>&nbsp; Arriving<br><strong>Content Warning:</strong>&nbsp; N/A<br><strong>Tagging:</strong>&nbsp; Riley Thompson, open<br><hr><div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/CTdHHZI.png)</div> Well, they were late, no denying that. Kind of annoying all things considered, Lindsay had always preferred to arrive early. Still, the first day was just the party anyways. The real fun started on the 17th, in which case they had all the time in the world. With the corvette strapped down to a car hauler hitched to the truck, they were making their way through the desert, towards the airbase. She felt about as prepared as she'd ever been to the event, and had high hopes she'd win a fair bit if the car didn't break down. Spare parts up the ass, tires to last at least out the week, and a drum of ethanol she'd driven to San Diego to pick up a few days prior, unsurprisingly it was sold out all over LA.<br><br><em>"What are you seeing Lindsay?"</em>&nbsp;The radio on the dash asked. <br><strong>"If idiots could fly the airfield wouldn't be abandoned,"</strong> she chuckled in return, seeing the old base in the horizon. Hard to miss, as it was getting dark the lights from the party were all the more visible.<br>Had she just taken the corvette instead of a truck and trailer, she'd likely be there already. Sadly there would be no room for spare equipment... And the corvette sat so low it could barely get over speed bumps, saying it was slammed to the ground was an understatement. Not to mention all the cops littering the side of the road on the way there, it definitely didn't help.<br><br>Either way, they got there soon enough, given they were late getting through security was a breeze. Probably helped that it wasn't her first time, had all her papers and whatnot ready, and that she recognized the security guy from prior years. After finding a place to park the cars and set up, and well, they were there. The corvette she left on the trailer for the time being, figuring she could deal with it in the morning. For now... She couldn't claim the party didn't look tempting. <br><br><em>"Sober up by tomorrow at least?"</em><br><br>Lindsay looked over at her compatriot, cracking a smile. <strong>"Think I'm missing a day due to a hangover?"</strong> She gave a wave goodbye and tossed over the keys to the truck just so she didn't lose them in a drunken stupor. Unlikely, but who knew. Not like she had plans to go on joyrides anyways. After a quick cigarette she was headed over, hoping to see some familiar faces. When the cigarette was nothing but a stump, she discarded it, and made a B-line for the warehouse. It was hard to not get distracted by the guy standing outside the doors seemingly hustling his ass off. <br><br>He split off from his little group just as she was approaching and was headed indoors. Perfect timing to give him a hard time, all in the name of good fun of course. <strong>"If you need to get some cash, I hear there's this great racing event happening out in the desert tomorrow,"</strong> she said jokingly as she got up to his side. 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: CROSSING THE LINE: Street Race Stories - Rave Wars(Pre-event)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Juggtacular</strong> on <strong>09-07-2019, 02:45:05</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://pbs.twimg.com/media/De-4hXKUYAE-6el.jpg)</div><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Name:</strong>&nbsp; Demarco "Tiny" Benjamin (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=305639.msg14906898#msg14906898)<br><strong>Wearing:</strong>&nbsp; This (https://i.pinimg.com/originals/eb/b6/2a/ebb62aee2bdb9677f7e4fa9f821a4d1d.jpg)<br><strong>Current Vehicle:</strong> 1967 Mustang Hardtop Convertible Fastback (https://packlighter.com/BKrd/web-pats.jpg)<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong>&nbsp; Race-Wars Eve(Rave Wars) | Night <br><strong>Location:</strong>&nbsp; Warehouse&nbsp; &gt; Bonfire<br><strong>Activity:</strong>&nbsp; Putting his men in position &gt; Heading to the bonfire for some R&amp;R before the big day<br><strong>Content Warning:</strong>&nbsp; <br><strong>Tagging:</strong>&nbsp; Trey, Nikki</span><br><hr><br><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="bbc_font"> The "B-Bois"(an awful name that they got after drawing random names from a bowl) had shown up a while earlier in a big black rig hauling their cars, and an RV to carry the crew, like so many people did. After claiming their spots on each floor of the warehouse, and outside, DeMarco assigned everyone to a location, with a job. Weed, Pills, 'Shrooms, etc... Even parts and other not completely legal things were for sale by members of Tiny's crew. They were still small, but they were already well known, which meant in a place like this, they planned on cleaning up. And with product direct from Miami that you couldn't get on the West Coast, they had an inside track against the local competition.<br><br>&nbsp;But this was Rave Wars, and one of the few times you could mix business with pleasure. So he had everybody in shifts, so they could party for a while, then make some money. It kept spirits high, and while they didn't make as much money as purely selling, they weren't exactly hurting either. After selling out of his goodie bag, so he was just walking around with an empty gucci bag, he decided to get some air. And smoke of course, but with so many people in the warehouse, he knew someone was going to try to jump in his solo session. And he wasn't ready to take anyone back to the bubble tent just yet. He found a bench outside and lit one of the pre-rolls he had in the tin in his pocket, only to put it right back out when his pocket buzzed at least twenty times in a row. <br><br>Then he pulled his phone out and started thumbing through the dozens of messages, dms, tweets; all of it. One in particular stood out, as it was from Mark McCarthy. He and Tiny did business with each other fairly often since he'd moved to LA, and they were pretty good friends. Plus the dude could drive. They'd done a few races together. It was asking if he was heading to the bonfire that Trey was going to also. It had coordinates on it, and at that moment, nothing could beat a good bonfire.<br><br>&nbsp;He texted him back saying he was definitely going, then headed to the RV and got out a half-pound bag that was vacuum-sealed. His goodie bag had all the supplies he needed now that he filled up on product, so he took that and a big bottle of Powerade out to his Mustang. It already had the off-road wheels, and was better for the terrain than his Nissan. Hopping in, he dropped the top and cranked the key. The beast roared to life before settling into a powerful idle. It took a few moments for the custom-built&nbsp; HD panel to pop to life, but once it did, he tapped the GPS page and type in the coordinates. <br><br>The spot wasn't too far, but it was enough distance that he could enjoy the drive. Before he could leave, he saw a black 'Cuda backing out of Mark's trailer. He figured it was Trey, which meant they were going to the same place. He might as well follow him, and use the GPS as a secondary. Once he knew where he was going, he lit his blunt and punched the gas, kicking up sand behind him before tearing out toward the desert for some old school fun. As he was alone, DeMarco cranked his speakers to the max and let the music blast loudly into the empty sands around him. After a bit of time, he saw the fire jumping high into the sky, and the circle of cars parked around it.<br><br>&nbsp;He drove right on up, Ghostface &amp; RZA (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ewrAEgI290Y) rumbling from his doors, trunk, and front. After he found a good spot to park up, he turned off the car and hopped out, taking his bag with him. His blunt was still lit and a little more than half(he rolled fat), and after taking one last big hit, he held it out while walking toward everyone gathered around. He held his breath for a few seconds, then blew out a half-dozen smoke rings. "Who hittin' next?"<br></span>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: CROSSING THE LINE: Street Race Stories - Rave Wars(Pre-event)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Writersblockade</strong> on <strong>09-07-2019, 04:24:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name:</strong>&nbsp; Riley "Rip" Thompson (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=305639.msg14909092#msg14909092)<br><strong>Wearing:</strong> Baggy jeans, open short sleeve tommy bahama-esque shirt, without the need to wear sunglasses to see it, fly ass sneakers&nbsp; <br><strong>Current Vehicle:</strong>Bringing his baby girl out for fun (https://i.pinimg.com/originals/4e/73/92/4e739218ccd83da7ec38826c41289adf.jpg)<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> June 17th -&nbsp; Zee night!<br><strong>Location:</strong> inside the party<br><strong>Activity:</strong>Getting his hustle on before he gets the party started!&nbsp; <br><strong>Content Warning:</strong>Family friendly!<br><strong>Tagging:</strong>Lindsay W, Open<br><hr><div class="floatleft">(https://nation.com.pk/digital_images/medium/2017-03-21/drake-breaks-ed-sheeran-s-young-record-on-spotify-1490118298-4185.jpg)</div><br>The voice...THAT voice! He'd hear it over all the shit going on around him even if she wasn't a radio personality. "Lind-zay! Wuddup girl! You know I like playing the odds. I only got so many racers in me, but this place is full of cash-infused idiots looking to blow it all or die trying. I'm just trying to help them see the bigger picture, and get my cut for being such an understanding guy!" He gave her a hug to show her love, then waved his hand at the party like he was the one that planned it all "Whatchoo need? Least I can do is buy you a drink...maybe talk about putting your money somewhere other than your car!" <br><br>He chuckled and helped fight through the crowds, then practically stood on some guy's shoulders to be noticed by the bartender, who was too busy eyeing the deep ass cleavage of one of the race bunnies. He wasn't even mad at him...those babies were definitely high-end after market upgrades with some serious ass suspension mods. He'd have likely been in a damn trance if he was pouring. "Yo! Booze chef! We need a lil sumthin'...ladies choice!" he gave Lindsay a chance to order, then just held up two fingers. Hard or soft, fruity or sour, he was a guy who didn't mind putting the selector on random and rolling with what came out. <br><br>The music was bumping hit after hit, though it tended to stay more on the electronic scene for the general audience. He knew a lot of the tracks by their sound more than their names. Trying to pin songs like these down used to drive his ass nuts when he was younger, because you could likely find the song, but if it was a remixed version or some b-side shit? Jesus, if it was recorded while the DJ was live? Forget about it! Once the bartender got their act together, he made sure to help find a chill spot to land. "So what's up? This work? Play? A little bit of both? I heard the Speedfreex put in some <strong>serious</strong> ass work on some of their better drivers...like some organized 'let's-get-this-bread' type shit."<br><br>Obviously he was a little shook by it, but he was playing to cool. Can't let 'em see you sweat too much "Of course none of that means shit if you ain't got timing and you ain't got skills! Just rolling around in an expensive ass paperweight, ya heard!?" he laughed and tipped the drink to her before reclining "Seriously...what's up? You don't even holla at your boy these days!"<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: CROSSING THE LINE: Street Race Stories - Rave Wars(Pre-event)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lynnette</strong> on <strong>09-07-2019, 19:25:39</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name:</strong> Lindsay Williams (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=305639.msg14944205#msg14944205)<br><strong>Wearing:</strong> Leather jacket, white blouse, dark-blue skinny jeans, sneakers<br><strong>Current Vehicle:</strong> 2003 Corvette C5 (https://i.imgur.com/ZfblWM0.png)<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong>&nbsp; June 17th, just past midnight<br><strong>Location:</strong>&nbsp; Entrance to the warehouse<br><strong>Activity:</strong>&nbsp; Arriving<br><strong>Content Warning:</strong>&nbsp; N/A<br><strong>Tagging:</strong>&nbsp; Riley Thompson, open<br><hr><div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/CTdHHZI.png)</div> <strong>"Because where everyone else fails, you're going to teach old dogs new tricks because you're such a wholesome guy?"</strong> She was giving him a hard time, but she knew he knew it was all in the name of good fun. Either way, free drinks! Man it felt great to have tits sometimes.<br><br>When they reached the bar and she saw the bartender's face practically diving between the other girl's tits, well, what was there to say but understanding. She got him, if they'd traded place she'd be doing the same. Looked like there was a lot more than just a facelift that had happened under her top, but hey, if she was happy with it right? It didn't seem like the bartender minded at all. Seeing the gesture from Riley... God how tempting it was to go with the girliest drink the bartender could make. In the end though, she didn't want to bust his balls too much. <strong>"Two beer then, literally anything but corona."</strong> <br><br>After getting their beer and moving to a spot where they could chat, she had her first sip. Thank god it was actually decent beer. Then again decent beer meant just about anything not watered down piss. Still, it was good. <strong>"Little bit of both sounds about right. Sure, it's great content, but first and foremost... It's just fun."</strong> While track-days were fun and all, going to something bigger every now and then was great. Somewhere that attracted some real competition. She chuckled as Riley went on to talk about one of the other teams and whatnot. She didn't care too much about it all things considered. <br><br>First and foremost she was there to have fun, and she didn't care if she lost some money on it. It was fun and all to go home with a sack of cash, but if she broke even she was satisfied. It was like that every year. Someone lost big a year, decided that instead of cutting their losses went full pimp-my-ride and won back some next year. Not that she was any different, it was a part of the hobby. She tried to not involve herself too much with the hierarchies that used the event to butt heads. She was there for the official races, whatever went on beyond that was none of her business. Curiosity was one thing, but given her public standing she didn't want to paint a target on her back.<br><br><strong>"Just work, crazy busy before the event ya'know? Barely have time to sleep the last month before the event."</strong> She chuckled and had another sip of her beer. <strong>"Been fully booked and then some for at least the last month, so my pockets are plenty padded to lose some Benjamins."</strong> Despite the statement, she didn't seem the least bit worried. Be it if she doubted she would, or if she just didn't care, was left to interpretation. Still, where Riley was worried about being eaten up by the bigger groups, she didn't seem to care in the slightest. Fuck if she cared about street cred, she was there to have fun, and fun she was going to have, regardless of green or red books at the end of it all.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: CROSSING THE LINE: Street Race Stories - Rave Wars(Pre-event)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>InnocentSynn</strong> on <strong>10-07-2019, 02:20:32</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/qRvIFSX.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>&nbsp; Travis McCarthy (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=305639.msg14898200#msg14898200)<br><strong>Wearing:</strong>&nbsp; Grey t-shirt, blue jeans, black boots<br><strong>Current Vehicle:</strong>&nbsp; 1968 Hemi Barracuda<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong>&nbsp; Nighttime<br><strong>Location:</strong>&nbsp; Undisclosed Location<br><strong>Activity:</strong>&nbsp; Change of Plans<br><strong>Content Warning:</strong>&nbsp; None<br><strong>Tagging:</strong>&nbsp; &nbsp;Nikki Hasegawa (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=305639.msg14895475#msg14895475), Demarco Benjamin (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=305639.msg14906898#msg14906898)<br><hr><br>When Trey exited his car, he was reassured when he saw a smile on Raymond's face.&nbsp; Raymond and his brother occasionally did business today and there was a healthy rivalry there was well, but so far it had been mostly friendly.&nbsp; Of course, that could change at any time, but it seemed that Raymond was more than happy to have Trey present at the bonfire and explained where he could find everything.&nbsp; <strong>"You know my brother,"</strong> he said with a slight smile, <strong>"He's already trying to think about who should race against who and things like that.&nbsp; I doubt he'll have any fun tonight, but that's his call."</strong>&nbsp; He shrugged his shoulders.&nbsp; Mark was always the one that thought about things a lot and didn't really stop to enjoy things.&nbsp; Trey could sometimes do the same thing, but Mark didn't leave him much to do so it wasn't like he had a lot to think about.&nbsp; Once Raymond had finished, Trey would make his way towards the cooler.<br><br>As he approached the cooler, he saw Raymond's younger sister hovering near them and he wasn't sure what to say at first.&nbsp; Sure, they had met, but it wasn't like they'd talked all that much.&nbsp; Still, he wasn't about to make an ass of himself, he hoped.&nbsp; So instead of standing there, staring, he just made his way over to the cooler and opened it up before finding a Budweiser and popping the top off of it.&nbsp; Taking a long sip, he would look around and could see plenty of people eating and drinking and laughing.&nbsp; The talk was, of course, mostly about cars and Race Wars and what they could expect tomorrow.&nbsp; He drowned out most of it easily enough, having heard so much talk about Race Wars in the family shop the last month or so that he was almost tired of it.&nbsp; That was a surprise given how excited he was for it, but it had still gotten to the point that even he had had enough.<br><br>Taking another sip, he would turn to say something to Nikki to find that she was gone.&nbsp; He looked around and spotted her easily, now standing next to her friend's car and seeming to look anywhere but at him.&nbsp; At least that's what he thought was happening, he could be wrong.&nbsp; For a moment, he was unsure what to do.&nbsp; He had actually gotten himself worked up enough to talk to her, but she had walked away from the situation, though he wasn't sure why.&nbsp; Taking a breath, he would decide to just go ahead and walk over.&nbsp; So that's what he did, well aware that Raymond's eyes were on him at the moment as he was approaching on his little sister.&nbsp; He had heard rumors that Raymond was very protective of her, so he hoped that his actions wouldn't be considered to be something that they weren't.&nbsp; He also expected someone to stop him, but no one did, so he felt pretty good by the time he got to her.<br><br><strong>"Hey Nikki, how you been?"</strong> he asked her, his relaxed voice a bit louder than normal in order to be heard over the music, <strong>"I heard a rumor that you were going to be driving tomorrow."</strong>&nbsp; A part of him felt excited for her.&nbsp; She was in sort of the same boat as him with a protective older brother that was finally, it seemed, starting to loosen up the reigns on her a bit.&nbsp; But before she could get a chance to reply, a voice rang out and Trey couldn't help but turn to look.&nbsp; He immediately recognized Tiny walking around, a lit joint in his hand, offering it to anyone that wanted to take a hit.&nbsp; Trey knew Tiny because his brother had done business with him a few times and they got along fairly well.&nbsp; He was a good guy, but Trey was well aware of his background and what he was really here to do.&nbsp; Still, that was mostly Mark's problem, so he didn't put too much thought into it, especially not tonight.<br><br>What he did think about was the joint in the man's hand.&nbsp; He didn't smoke much, but it was a party and he figured that it could be fun.&nbsp; So when Tiny made his way over to him, he would accept the joint with a respectful nod before taking a long hit off of it.&nbsp; It was so fat that it didn't do much damage, but he had filled his lungs and held the smoke in for probably a good fifteen seconds before he would finally let it out his nose, giving him the vague appearance of a dragon snorting smoke.&nbsp; He couldn't help but let out a few coughs as he did, but before he would hand it back to Tiny, he would actually offer it to Nikki.&nbsp; He wasn't sure if she smoked or not, but he figured that he could offer it and just see what happened.&nbsp; If she didn't want it, then it could just go back to Tiny.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: CROSSING THE LINE: Street Race Stories - Rave Wars(Pre-event)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Eliza</strong> on <strong>10-07-2019, 12:29:57</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name:</strong>&nbsp; Nicole “Nikki” Hasegawa (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=305639.msg14895475#msg14895475)<br><strong>Wearing:</strong>&nbsp; Pictured with Alpinestars shoes (https://m.fortnine.ca/media/catalog/product/cache/1/image/9df78eab33525d08d6e5fb8d27136e95/ProductImages/OG/2014-Alpinestars-Stella-Josey-Waterproof-Shoes-MCSS.jpg)<br><strong>Current Vehicle:</strong>&nbsp; 1994 Nissan GTR32<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong>&nbsp; June 17 | Minutes after midnight<br><strong>Location:</strong>&nbsp; Private Desert Bonfire and back to the Warehouse<br><strong>Activity:</strong>&nbsp; Talking with Trey, retreating back to the Warehouse<br><strong>Content Warning:</strong>&nbsp; Drug use<br><strong>Tagging:</strong>&nbsp; Travis McCarthy (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=305639.msg14898200#msg14898200), Demarco Benjamin (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=305639.msg14906898#msg14906898), Tiffany (NPC), Raymond (NPC), Open<br><hr><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/0/09/Nikkihasegawa01.jpg)</div>Even with Tiffany walking back over to him after talking to someone on his crew, Raymond was keeping watch on the scene unfolding. Another pair of headlights turned out to be a sweet Mustang pumping hip hop tunes from its speakers. He already knew from the driver coming out that this was one of many dealers who gave out the party drugs at Rave Wars. In the golden days, ecstasy was the gateway, but weed and similar joints soon took over as a decade passed in the 21st century. While he mostly drank beer like his mentors before him, never dabbling in cigarettes or similar fashions, Raymond tolerated Demarco Benjamin at his bonfire, as long as he didn't put his stash in his fire and smoke everyone out. He mostly just wanted to not be under the influence of such substances while he watched Mark's younger brother approach his little sister.<br><br>Nikki saw Tiny's entrance as well and being the advocate of a drug-free lifestyle, she shied away from the intimidating clouds of smoke, but found refuge with the approaching figure of Trey. It was unmistakable that he was Mark's brother, though the longer hair sort of hid those qualities. Nikki was more used to Mark's cleaner cuts, since he occasionally dropped by her father's shop for parts or advice on naturally-aspirating machines, mostly in tow of her big brother, who often sided with turbos. <br><br>Tiffany was unnerved by Raymond's crewmate, finding solace in approaching and starting a conversation with her ex. And likely the cause of their breakup was his stubbornness in finding a subject to focus on and not letting anything else distract him. It was quintessentially the meaning of "tunnel vision." Tiffany just leaned on the trunk of Raymond's car, distracting herself with selfies on Instagram while Raymond looked through the heat of the fire to find Trey slowly approaching Nikki and starting to speak with her.<br><br>Nikki caught his gaze and in a split-second, she saw him in his own way, give Trey his blessing and just for a little while, remove that invisible protective barrier that he always had when members of the opposite sex came into proximity of her. She took a big gulp of her IZZE and parted her hair as Trey spoke up. Seeing signs of nervousness in Trey made her relax and she pushed off the fender of her car to stand up straight and face him. <strong>“Hey Trey. I've been good. You?”</strong> she said and shot the question back at him. When hearing the rumor, she was quick to clarify things. <strong>“I'll be driving, but not to compete. I've never been a racer, just a really good driver. How about you? But I know a racing machine when I hear one. You gonna be cutting her loose on the tracks?”</strong><br><br>As if on cue, Tiny had approached the two of them, the joint still in his hand. There was a slight pause in their conversation that the dealer found it appropriate to share his blunt. Trey was the first to take a hit and took a long one, which made Nikki's face turn sour just thinking of the duration of smoke in his mouth and nasal passages. When he was done, he exhaled the smoke through his nostrils, much like a dragon. Although it looked cool, Nikki was quick to think of the adverse effects on him. The hesitant coughs were a sign that he was just <em>blowing smoke</em>, no pun intended, or putting on a show to either boost his ego or show off in front of Nikki. Trey then offered the blunt to her, but her decision was confident. She shook her head and made a gesture like she was actually trying to fan the smoke away from her and towards Tiny. <strong>“No thanks.”</strong><br><br>Nikki gazed over to Raymond and with his eyes, silently applauded her decision not to hit it. Even though she was here of her own free will, she was still under her brother's protection. She quickly sent Tiffany a text, saying she was going to head back to the Warehouse. With eyes that said sorry, mostly to Trey, she opened her car door, since her car was a right-hand drive Skyline, and turned over the engine. She kindly backed up from the circle of cars, minding not to hit the extra Mustang sitting just outside the circle. She made her way back to the desert roads and sped back to the warehouse where Rave Wars was still being held, the multi-colored spotlights letting anybody in the vicinity exactly where it was. Since her car was mostly stock, if anyone with a faster machine, Tiffany included, could very well catch up to her when she got to the outer perimeter of the abandoned airbase, where the venue of Race Wars was being held.<br><br>She'd parked just outside the back door and would get let in by the bouncer, though if either Trey or Tiny had followed her, the bouncer, who was a heavy-set Samoan guy, would only allow Trey in, since Mark was well known with the staff, sending Tiny around to the front door.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: CROSSING THE LINE: Street Race Stories - Rave Wars(Pre-event)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ron Don Volante</strong> on <strong>14-07-2019, 03:04:44</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name:</strong>&nbsp; Angelina “La Operadora” Calderon<br><strong>Wearing:</strong> A bad ass outift on her way to the Job. (https://i.imgur.com/vUUTbEF.png)<br><strong>Current Vehicle:</strong> Subaru WRX<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> Late afternoon <br><strong>Location:</strong> A car<br><strong>Activity:</strong> Being chased by cops.<br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> Violence.<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Open<br><hr><div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/yeOdQ5n.png)</div>Angelina was born and raised Catholic. Her mother had been devout and took her to the church every Sunday and then some. Bible readings, church events, and stories about saints and weeping Virgin Marys and so forth filled Angelina and her siblings head for years. All until life finally handed the Calderon family the strong impression that all those stories were just that: stories. By the time Angelina started running with the Byz Lats she didn’t believe one iota in God, angels, saints, or any of the rest of it. <br><br>Until the return of that white MR2. <br><br>The irony of Angelina not believing in her name sake creatures, certainly not in angels manifesting themselves into old school bad ass cars that swoop out of nowhere and save her ass, was not lost on her. All she could think as the car drove off the persistent piggie off of her before flashing its beams at her, was that an angel had finally decided she was worthy of salvation. <br><br>“Who the fuck…” Devone said as she turned around. “That’s not Liz and Linh. That’s…”<br><br>“The white boy from the gas station,” Angelina said, her eyes focused on the road. “Guess he was doing more than checking me out.” She knew what Angel Boy was telling her and she decided to take the advice. She reached under the dashboard and pressed a button she hadn’t expected to need before the race. The car rocketed forward. She took a hard right then another right.&nbsp; <br><br>“What’s going…” Devone said. <br><br>“And that’s the last out! It’s pandemonium here…” the announcer yelled from the radio. Another good bit of fortune. Angelina switched the radio off. “Now’s the time,” she said. She glanced at both her sides and her rearview. No pigs in proximity. She took another hard left to sweep into the stadium’s parking garage. Fans were streaming out tons of whom were screaming about the victory they had just witnessed. Almost all the cars were struggling to leave the lot while Angelina and Devone were going in. She finally found a parking spot. She opened the glove compartment and handed a baseball cap to Devone.<br><br>“You go left I go right. Get a ride to the meeting spot as soon as you can.”<br><br>“What about the car?”<br><br>“I’m on it. And this time I have someone I can trust to take care of it.” Angelina paused. “We good?”<br><br>“I hope so. Up until the five-oh coming the job was perfect,” Devone said as she put the cap on. “See you soon, girl. Good luck.” <br><br>“You too,” Angelina put on her cap and walked to one side of the garage while Devone went to the other. As Angelina left the garage, and right past a cop or two that didn't give her a second glance, she thought about that MR2 and it's driver. Angelina knew she'd meet her angel soon. After all, she knew enough to know that angels and destiny were intertwined. <br><br>And if this angel was a gorgeous guy with a sick car...well all the better.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: CROSSING THE LINE: Street Race Stories - Rave Wars(Pre-event)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>NaughtyKitty</strong> on <strong>14-07-2019, 06:42:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name:</strong>&nbsp; Molly Roth<br><strong>Wearing:</strong>&nbsp; White, linen pencil skirt ending just above the knee. Black silk blouse with the top three buttons open.&nbsp; Matching white linen suit jacket.&nbsp; Black suede knee high boots with stiletto heels. Hair pulled back with a black leather barrette.<br><strong>Current Vehicle:</strong> SR20DET swapped Datsun 2000 Roadster<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong>&nbsp; Late night, June 16, 2019<br><strong>Location:</strong>&nbsp; Warehouse and general vicinity<br><strong>Activity:</strong>&nbsp; Arriving<br><strong>Content Warning:</strong>&nbsp; N/A<br><strong>Tagging:</strong>&nbsp; Open<br><hr><div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/WfgVKmC.jpg)</div> Race Wars was the biggest event of the year on the West Coast.&nbsp; People came from all over to race, party and to spectate.&nbsp; Rave Wars kicked things off in the partying department.&nbsp; One of the big warehouses on the airbase had been converted specifically for the purpose.&nbsp; Granted, it was a much more controlled party than in years past....but there was still plenty of booze, bravado and far too much testosterone.&nbsp; That combination alway ended up in fist fights....and grudge races.&nbsp; Used to be a drag race... it these days the dual could mean anything from drifting to time attack to a race on the road course....to yes....a drag race.&nbsp; As with most sporting events, there was a definite set of tiers in place. The more money you had to spend or the more sponsorships you had, the higher the tier level.&nbsp; <br><br>Molly was on that top tier.&nbsp; Most racers rolled in with a crew and with the stated purpose of taking as much money from the other racers as possible.&nbsp; But those at the top went for more.&nbsp; Molly was going for more.&nbsp; She wanted to win the war...to prove she was the best there was.&nbsp; This year she was loaded for bear.&nbsp; She’d spent the last year swapping a built LS3 into her Nissan 350Z along with widening the body to accept a 315/335 set of Hoosier Racing slicks and adding a full Aero package.&nbsp; Every last part of the car that wasn’t necessary was removed and those that were necessary were weight reduced as much as possible.&nbsp; Once the car was up, running and tuned....it was all the seat time she could find to shake down and sort the car out.&nbsp; <br><br>And now here she was....the night before it all began.&nbsp; She had a crew of one. Her crew chief/mechanic, Paul West, has driven the Toter Home down with the race trailer earlier in the day to claim a spot in the paddock and get everything prepped and ready.&nbsp; Molly has driven the Datsun down from the office and arrived after the sun went down. She’d checked in with Paul to make sure everything was fine, then decided to check out Rave Wars.&nbsp; It probably would have made a bigger impression on the competition had she shown up in the Evora 400....but the car was still down.&nbsp; Roth was in the middle of converting the custom single turbo system she’d designed and built into a twin turbo setup.&nbsp; The single had simply had too much lag and the twin system would have smaller turbos, which would allow them to spook up faster.&nbsp; <br><br>If she could ever find the time to finish.<br><br>So instead she brought the Datsun.&nbsp; Not that 400whp wasn’t enough for a little 1900 lb car.&nbsp; Plus...it had plenty of OG street cred, being older than probably everyone in a 50 mile radius.&nbsp; So when she pulled up outside the warehouse and stepped out of the car, she knew there were a lot of eyes on her.&nbsp; Molly straightened her skirt and gently shut the door behind her.&nbsp; Her heels clicked on the concrete as she headed for the door....barely giving the door man a second look as she blew past him.<br><br>Inside the music was blaring, strobes and lasers flashing and swinging around in the smoke filled air.&nbsp; Molly stopped inside the door and took it all in....the hundreds of people gyrating to the music...till she spotted the bar.&nbsp; Heading that way, she pushed through the throng of people and waved to get the bartender’s attention.&nbsp; “Macallan, neat!” she yelled.&nbsp; The bartender nodded...and went off to get her scotch.&nbsp; Once he came back, she took the glass and turned around to look back through the crowd again....
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: CROSSING THE LINE: Street Race Stories - Rave Wars(Pre-event)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Writersblockade</strong> on <strong>15-07-2019, 03:49:04</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name:</strong>&nbsp; Riley "Rip" Thompson (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=305639.msg14909092#msg14909092)<br><strong>Wearing:</strong> Baggy jeans, open short sleeve tommy bahama-esque shirt, without the need to wear sunglasses to see it, fly ass sneakers&nbsp; <br><strong>Current Vehicle:</strong>Bringing his baby girl out for fun (https://i.pinimg.com/originals/4e/73/92/4e739218ccd83da7ec38826c41289adf.jpg)<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> June 17th -&nbsp; Zee night!<br><strong>Location:</strong> inside the party<br><strong>Activity:</strong>Getting his hustle on before he gets the party started!&nbsp; <br><strong>Content Warning:</strong>Family friendly!<br><strong>Tagging:</strong>Lindsay W, Open<br><hr><div class="floatleft">(https://nation.com.pk/digital_images/medium/2017-03-21/drake-breaks-ed-sheeran-s-young-record-on-spotify-1490118298-4185.jpg)</div><br>"Heeeeey, you know me! Besides, they already know how to lose money, right? The trick I need them to learn is to give a shit about the people they leave at home. Most of these ma-fuckas got kids, or wives...baby-mamas...grandmas. Everybody's got somebody that's left in the wind if shit goes bad out in the street. Piece of mind, girl. I'm selling piece of mind because everybody's gotta hustle somehow. And face it...I'm probably the most wholesome guy you know. I see dem dudes you be hanging out with!" he held up a hand as he took a few swallows of beer "Customers, yeah. I get it, but still. "<br><br>When she told him that she was there mostly for fun, he chuckled "Must be nice. I'm here cuz my ass is hungry. I got this need and that normal street shit sometimes don't cut it. Too much in the way, between cops and dumb ass drivers and pedestrians. But here? Ain't nothing but the speed out here. I'll get my taste and bow out, but I'm already thinking of next year. Looking around at what I'm missing and how I can get it. Shit's a process, y'know?" He talked to her, but it almost seemed like he was talking himself through it. Still getting used to the very idea of it. He would have told her it was his first race wars if she'd asked, but it was likely she'd be able to tell. Most people could normally sniff out new meat.<br><br>"Speaking of, I'm trying to get in good with my boss. Think you might be able to throw our radio spot on your show at a discount? I'm trying to convince him that there's a lot of money floating out there in that specific demographic. If I can convince him, I might be able to do this all on a grander scale. A guy can dream, right?" He laughed and took another pull from his beer "Just think it over. I don't need you to answer right now, but if there's a way to make it happen...well, you know me. I like to be proactive!"<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: CROSSING THE LINE: Street Race Stories - Rave Wars(Pre-event)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>xPeachyPuff</strong> on <strong>16-07-2019, 04:33:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://66.media.tumblr.com/2b024afb173f3f28db2e45a1e20392b0/tumblr_p7vnlmEbeP1ws2odco1_1280.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> <strong>Aubrey Clarke</strong> (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=305639.msg14905402#msg14905402)<br><strong>Wearing:</strong> A black, lacy bodysuit tucked into a pair of tight black jeans with a 'O' ring belt and gold jewellery/accessories. (https://i.pinimg.com/564x/e4/1d/b2/e41db296eed543184c2769068e506eae.jpg) A pair of black, peep-toe, stiletto pumps with red soles (https://i.pinimg.com/564x/68/30/a1/6830a15ad4abb6e9d0dd97483f73f6eb.jpg) and a small, black handbag with gold detailing. (https://i.pinimg.com/564x/e6/68/2d/e6682d5a357abbbd7f92647ef1e9f6bf.jpg)<br><strong>Current Vehicle:</strong> N/A<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> June 17th - Night Time<br><strong>Location:</strong> Main Room, Rave Wars Warehouse Party<br><strong>Activity:</strong> Bit of Banter<br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> N/A<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Diego Serrano<br><hr><br>The man opposite her seemed to pause at the somewhat racist jest she’d cracked – anything was joke-able in her eyes – and Aubrey cocked an eyebrow, tilting her head in a taunting fashion, an confident smirk at her lips. She raised her glass to have another sip, the condensation from the ice wetting her plump lips before the liquid contents inside, and she happily watched him, leaning onto her elbow nearest the bar. The exchange between the two of them was amusing, to say the least. <br><br><em>”Welcome to SoCal, English Princess.”</em> <br><br>Aubrey played along, delivering a low-effort mock curtsy back. <br><br>As he continued, her eyes widened a bit and she dropped her glass from her lips ever so slightly, taken aback by his impolite assumption in the form of a blunt jab. Her expression quickly changed from that of disbelief that someone was talking to her in such a way, to a wide grin and a crinkle of her eyes revealing the smile as genuine, clearly amused by his comments. <br><br>“Wow.” The scoff was all she could manage right away. Then she pressed her lips together to try to disguise her smile and raised both eyebrows approvingly, offering to share in his raised glass with her own; a toast to signify a damn good burn.&nbsp; <br><br>“It’s almost like you’ve had some experience with these types before.” The redhead took another sip of her drink, her doe-eyes scanning the club briefly from the tops of the glass before falling back on him.&nbsp; <br><br>“Well, sweetheart, it's not the Lambo-parading-posers I’m interested in.” <br><br>Aubrey stepped forward on her heels, closing the gap between them slightly. She passed the glass to her other hand, balancing it on the bar while her fingers toyed with the wet rim where her nude lip-gloss had left and imprint. She glanced him up and down once, her eyelashes fluttering flirtatiously. <br><br>“It’s what's on the inside that counts.” She pressed her spare index finger to the middle of his chest. “Right?” 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: CROSSING THE LINE: Street Race Stories - Rave Wars(Pre-event)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lynnette</strong> on <strong>19-07-2019, 21:20:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name:</strong> Lindsay Williams (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=305639.msg14944205#msg14944205)<br><strong>Wearing:</strong> Leather jacket, white blouse, dark-blue skinny jeans, sneakers<br><strong>Current Vehicle:</strong> 2003 Corvette C5 (https://i.imgur.com/ZfblWM0.png)<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong>&nbsp; June 17th, just past midnight<br><strong>Location:</strong>&nbsp; Entrance to the warehouse<br><strong>Activity:</strong>&nbsp; Arriving<br><strong>Content Warning:</strong>&nbsp; N/A<br><strong>Tagging:</strong>&nbsp; Riley Thompson, open<br><hr><div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/CTdHHZI.png)</div> <strong>"Eh, hang out with is a stretch,"</strong> Lindsay chuckled in a return, and had another swig of her beer. <strong>"Work is work, never gonna make it if you turn away every single face you don't like."</strong><br><br>Unsurprisingly, most of her yearly business for the dyno shop came from the prior month. It broke even and then some most months, but it was May and June that really brought out the big bucks. Either way, what came next solidified her suspicions it was his first time. She'd know, she'd been there for the last... Seven years now? Wow, time flew by. The first time was still the clearest in mind though. She'd won big on the first day and subsequently lost most of it during the next few. It was a part of the learning process, that's the way she saw it at least. <br><br><strong>"Everyone shows up ill prepared for their first time. Shit will break you never imagined would, down to the most obscure and unlikely. But, if you steer clear of the big groups, people are usually pretty helpful. Gotten more competitive the last few years granted, but it's not too hard to find parts or tools you need for a decent price. Friend of mine is doing short term rentals on a lot of tools down... You'll find it. Mig-welders, impact tools, whole nine yards. Saved my ass more than once."</strong> She let out another chuckle and had some more beer. Thinking about it, god how much shit had broken just the last few years. Springs had been her usual suspect, her wiring harness had caught fire... Twice, as well. Clutch had broken once, brakes several times... It wasn't easy. And then the boilovers that always ended up happening. That in particular happened to most though, given the heat of the desert. A hose clamp was all it took after all before the whole engine was covered with coolant. A good hawker could probably make a killing just selling bottles of coolant to competitors who forgot to bring some. Heck, she was sure there was several to be found. <br><br>Riley went on to ask about advertisements and such. She hummed along, giving the occasional nod when he explained his position. Truth be told, it was unlikely. Sure, she needed advertisers to keep the ship afloat, but there was a lot of factors to weigh. If she recommended something that made for a poor investment for her consumers, be it a bad product or a bad service, it could severely cripple both income and listener-relations for years. Still, she wasn't going to shoot it down completely.<br><br><strong>"Mmm, I'll think about it,"</strong> Lindsay mused in return. <strong>"No guarantees though. Keep in mind a lot of bureaucracy goes into these kinds of things. I have to think about what other advertisers will think, I have to know that the company is legit, all this kind of shit. No company would wanna be in the position of being recommended next to some major scam, ya'know? It's not that I don't trust ya, but I gotta think about my own livelihood as well. A lot easier to recommend some retailer over a company people trust with their hard-earned money."</strong>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: CROSSING THE LINE: Street Race Stories - Rave Wars(Pre-event)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Heartsink</strong> on <strong>20-07-2019, 20:37:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-u2v17_ieuUw/WI4Q_nAB9sI/AAAAAAAABzs/M88jPttK2zMJZIFce_PPf8re8JKD_R2fwCEw/s640/image1-5.JPG)</div><strong>Name:</strong>&nbsp; Diego Serrano (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=305639.msg14905847#msg14905847)<br><strong>Wearing:</strong> Black t-shirt, black jeans, red plaid shirt acting as jacket, fake gold chain around the neck<br><strong>Current Vehicle:</strong> N/A<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong>&nbsp; Nighttime<br><strong>Location:</strong>&nbsp; Warehouse<br><strong>Activity:</strong>&nbsp; Verbal jousting<br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> Foul language<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Aubrey Clarke<br><hr><br>The woman he was talking to turned out to be interesting as she seemed unaffected by his trash talk. Instead, she looked somewhat amused, which frustrated him slightly but also intrigued him. <br><br><span class="bbc_u"><em>"It's almost like you've had some experience with these types before."</em></span><br><br>Diego shrugged enigmatically as a response. <em>Most people at Race Wars are posers, you'll realize that sooner or later,</em> he thought. In his eyes, anyone with a super-car was inherently a poser, someone completely fake. He was somewhat glad they existed, though, as they were easy to spot, make fun of, and get rid of usually. <br><br><span class="bbc_u"><em>"Well, sweetheart, it's not the Lambo-parading-posers I'm interested in."</em></span>`<br><br><strong>"Oh?"</strong> Diego let out, raising an eyebrow. <br><br>She moved closer to him and he observed her fingers playing with her glass until she looked at him from top to bottom. <br><br><span class="bbc_u"><em>"It's what's on the inside that counts. Right?"</em></span><br><br>As she spoke, she extended her arm and index finger to the middle of Diego's chest, while his eyes followed the movement of her delicate finger. He was slightly taken aback by her behavior when he had been contentious towards her so far. <br><br><strong>"Is it, though?"</strong> he asked, before lifting his eyes up to observe her briefly until he turned his head towards the counter. <strong>"Digging someone is like digging a car, ain't it? You see the rims, the paint job, the head lights, all of that first,"</strong> he continued his analogy, observing his injured fist under the light and making it more visible to Aubrey by moving it in different angles in front of her. <strong>"Maybe there's some scratches on the bodywork that needs fixin' or some other... problem."</strong> He stopped looking at his fist and dived into her eyes again. <strong>"In any case, if you like the car so far, you hear it out, maybe a stock V6 does the job or you'd rather hear a turbo do its thing out there, or a supercharger even? Who knows? Then you take a peek inside. Is it comfy? Minimalist? Luxurious? Is it meant for what I intend to drive it for?"</strong> He took a big sip of his corona and then concluded. <strong>"We might have access to all that info with a car, but with people you're usually only left with the visuals and a glimpse of their sound with no way to verify authenticity. No warranty if you make a mistake either. At that point, what's on the inside doesn't count much."</strong> He leaned on towards her, his precedent serious expression transitioning to a soft, inviting smile. <strong>"So... Wanna have a test drive, to get a peek inside?"</strong>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: CROSSING THE LINE: Street Race Stories - Rave Wars(Pre-event)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Eliza</strong> on <strong>26-07-2019, 05:51:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name:</strong>&nbsp; Nicole “Nikki” Hasegawa (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=305639.msg14895475#msg14895475)<br><strong>Wearing:</strong>&nbsp; Pictured with Alpinestars shoes (https://m.fortnine.ca/media/catalog/product/cache/1/image/9df78eab33525d08d6e5fb8d27136e95/ProductImages/OG/2014-Alpinestars-Stella-Josey-Waterproof-Shoes-MCSS.jpg)<br><strong>Current Vehicle:</strong>&nbsp; 1994 Nissan GTR32<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong>&nbsp; June 16 | Sometime before midnight<br><strong>Location:</strong>&nbsp; Warehouse, Ground Floor bar to Hip Hop Floor<br><strong>Activity:</strong>&nbsp; Seeing a familiar face<br><strong>Content Warning:</strong>&nbsp; None<br><strong>Tagging:</strong>&nbsp; Molly Roth (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=305639.msg14966012#msg14966012), Tiffany (NPC), Open<br><hr><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/1/11/NikkiHasegawa02.jpg)</div>Nikki was showing her friend Tiffany around the place, since it was her first time ever attendiing the week-long street racing festival that was Race Wars. Seeing the many cars already parked outside and how much activity there was around cars and inside the very warehouse housing multiple floors of different music genres and different types of party-goers, it reminded her of visiting Daikoku Futo Parking Area in Tokyo, Japan, though in the middle of a desert, not a bustling city. Her exotic look had people waving at her and even guys who tried to stop her as she walked around the floor, being pulled by her escort Nikki. She was on the lookout for the best path to the stairs, since the ground floor was a more chilled sort of scene.<br><br>But before she ascend what looked to be the staircase, she spotted a familiar face at the bar. She didn't need clues to figure out that this woman stood out and it wasn't her beauty that was doing it. Molly was like a big sister to her and was less like an aunt, even though she was in good graces with her father. Something within Nikki told her that this chill scene wasn't here scene and someone was in some need of eurobeat, as if her mind was racing on tomorrow's competition.<br><br>Pulling Tiffany along, Nikki walked over to Molly, calling out to her when she was near, “Hey Miss Molly!” For a second there, she thought she sounded like when she was a teenager, hanging around ferrying tools to the mechanics and greeting her whenever she came around the garage. The two women embraced and Nikki turned around to introduce her friend. “Oh, Molly, this is my friend Tiffany, from Japan. It's her first time at Race Wars.”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: CROSSING THE LINE: Street Race Stories - Rave Wars(Pre-event)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>NaughtyKitty</strong> on <strong>27-07-2019, 04:16:44</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name:</strong>&nbsp; Molly Roth<br><strong>Wearing:</strong>&nbsp; White, linen pencil skirt ending just above the knee. Black silk blouse with the top three buttons open.&nbsp; Matching white linen suit jacket.&nbsp; Black suede knee high boots with stiletto heels. Hair pulled back with a black leather barrette.<br><strong>Current Vehicle:</strong> SR20DET swapped Datsun 2000 Roadster<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong>&nbsp; Late night, June 16, 2019<br><strong>Location:</strong>&nbsp; Warehouse and general vicinity<br><strong>Activity:</strong>&nbsp; Standing near the bar with her drink<br><strong>Content Warning:</strong>&nbsp; N/A<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Nikki Hasegawa, Tiffany, Open<br><hr><div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/WfgVKmC.jpg)</div>Drink in hand, the brunette surveyed the area surrounding.&nbsp; She couldn’t help but notice the couple just down the bar.&nbsp; He looked flustered and she looked to be enjoying herself.&nbsp; Roth focused in on the girl and realized just how pretty the redhead was.&nbsp; <em>Wow.....the things I’d like to do with her....</em><br><br>She swore inwardly, noticing the girl’s body language and that she was enjoying the verbal sparring....yep...she was definitely flirting.&nbsp; <em>Too bad</em>, she thought, <em>But....just damn!</em><br><br>Molly heard a familiar voice over the thumping of the music as she brought her glass up to her lips.&nbsp; She took a sip as a smile crossed her face.&nbsp; She put the glass down and reached out for the source of the voice, “Nikki!&nbsp; Oh my god....Sweety....I’m so glad to see you!”<br><br>She pulled the younger woman close and hugged her tight.&nbsp; Nikki Hasegawa was one of her favorite people in all of LA. Molly had been visiting her father’s shop ever since she’d moved to town.&nbsp; She still remembered a teenaged Nikki running around the shop and helping out.&nbsp; She was the closest thing she had to family here....Nikki was basically her little sister at this point.&nbsp; Still smiling, she kissed the top of the shorter woman’s head.&nbsp; “Is Ray here too?”<br><br>When Nikki introduced her friend, Molly couldn’t help but smile.&nbsp; Tiffany was beautiful......though obviously about the same age as Nikki.&nbsp; As cute as Tiffany was....Molly forced herself to stay in Big Sister Mode.&nbsp; Extending her hand, “It’s great to meet you.&nbsp; What do you think of Race Wars so far? Pretty crazy, huh?”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: CROSSING THE LINE: Street Race Stories - Rave Wars(Pre-event)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>xPeachyPuff</strong> on <strong>27-07-2019, 23:46:44</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://66.media.tumblr.com/2b024afb173f3f28db2e45a1e20392b0/tumblr_p7vnlmEbeP1ws2odco1_1280.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> <strong>Aubrey Clarke</strong> (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=305639.msg14905402#msg14905402)<br><strong>Wearing:</strong> A black, lacy bodysuit tucked into a pair of tight black jeans with a 'O' ring belt and gold jewellery/accessories. (https://i.pinimg.com/564x/e4/1d/b2/e41db296eed543184c2769068e506eae.jpg) A pair of black, peep-toe, stiletto pumps with red soles (https://i.pinimg.com/564x/68/30/a1/6830a15ad4abb6e9d0dd97483f73f6eb.jpg) and a small, black handbag with gold detailing. (https://i.pinimg.com/564x/e6/68/2d/e6682d5a357abbbd7f92647ef1e9f6bf.jpg)<br><strong>Current Vehicle:</strong> N/A<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong> June 17th - Night Time<br><strong>Location:</strong> Main Room, Rave Wars Warehouse Party<br><strong>Activity:</strong> Buying Drinks<br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> N/A<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Diego Serrano - OPEN<br><hr><br>Aubrey’s playful smile continued to curve the corner of her glossy lips as Janitor-Boy began his spiel regarding her statement. Her eyes flickered to his injured fist for a moment as he raised it, the club lights illuminating it in different colours at certain points, though just enough for her to make out the fresh wound marks of his knuckles, before her deep chocolate eyes flashed back to his once more. As he spoke, her finger that pressed to the centre of his chest drifted downwards a few inches, brushing against his torso flirtatiously before she withdrew her touch.&nbsp; <br><br>Bree didn’t draw back as he leaned forward to her and concluded his words with a proposition, a proposition that caused her eyebrows to raise, her chin to dip and her smile to grow, though this time an incredulous expression took a hold of her freckled features. <br><br>“Wow.” A scoffed chuckle left her. “How cute.” Her nose wrinkled along with the corners of her eyes as she mocked him, her tone playfully patronizing. “If you’re lucky, maybe another time.” <br><br>With that, Aubrey shot him a cheeky wink and lifted her own glass to her lips, downing the entire contents that remained, just under half the glass, before she placed it on the bar and turned her attention away from him, folding her arms and leaning forward against the surface once again. Test riding strangers was not on her nights to do list, though she wasn’t about to put her flirtations and banter under lock and key. That being said, Aubrey didn’t exactly have a goal for the night, other than not to get too wasted considering the event the next day that she planned to participate in.&nbsp; <br><br>“Another vodka-Redbull, please.” Aubrey didn’t both to glance back at the male who she’d previously been conversing with, though she still felt his presence there. “And a Corona. For the cleaning staff.” She cocked her head, gesturing in his direction as the bartender grinned and turned to fetch her order. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: CROSSING THE LINE: Street Race Stories - Rave Wars(Pre-event)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Eliza</strong> on <strong>09-08-2019, 11:44:07</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name:</strong>&nbsp; Nicole “Nikki” Hasegawa (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=305639.msg14895475#msg14895475)<br><strong>Wearing:</strong>&nbsp; Pictured with Alpinestars shoes (https://m.fortnine.ca/media/catalog/product/cache/1/image/9df78eab33525d08d6e5fb8d27136e95/ProductImages/OG/2014-Alpinestars-Stella-Josey-Waterproof-Shoes-MCSS.jpg)<br><strong>Current Vehicle:</strong>&nbsp; 1994 Nissan GTR32<br><strong>Date/Time:</strong>&nbsp; June 16 | Sometime before midnight<br><strong>Location:</strong>&nbsp; Warehouse, Ground Floor bar to Hip Hop Floor<br><strong>Activity:</strong>&nbsp; Seeing a familiar face<br><strong>Content Warning:</strong>&nbsp; None<br><strong>Tagging:</strong>&nbsp; Molly Roth (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=305639.msg14966012#msg14966012), Tiffany (NPC), Open<br><hr><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/1/11/NikkiHasegawa02.jpg)</div>Tiffany took Molly's hand enthusiastically and gave her a firm shake. “I haven't seen any racing yet, but I'm definitely looking forward to the cars and the hot weather,” she said after letting go of Molly's hand. “I'm guessing you race, too?”<br><br>“Don't let her outfit fool you, Tiff. Watch and see tomorrow, she's going to dominate the blacktop,” Nikki said. Being the family friend of the Hasegawa's, Nikki knew that she had seen Molly both in overalls and outfits for nights on the town. She easily dominated behind the wheel and walking in heels in a skirt. “But tonight's for fun only. Plus, my friend Konstantina is playing on the top floor. I didn't ask you before, Molly, do you like hip-hop?”<br><br>Before Nikki could get Molly's answer, she was pulled away from Molly with Tiffany on her other side, grabbing her hand. She resisted, seeing the glass in Molly's hand and dared not to grab her hand for fear of making a wet scene at the bar. We'll be upstairs, Molly. You're welcome to tag along!”
			</dd>
		</dl>
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