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21 Parsects; Rem (Vash and Dain joining)
Topic Started: May 21 2015, 10:41 AM (319 Views)
Rem
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The Super Namek
Quote:
 
Title:21 Parsects

Location: Ruins of Cauldron

Difficulty: Medium

Description: The Sponsor is ecstatic at how well you did in the qualifying round. He's offered to continue paying you to race his ship. This time you are racing against other pilots who did just as well as you in the last round, and everyone is vying for a chance to race in the championship. The competition is going to be much more heated, and a lot more dangerous. Watch out for the competition, they would love to retire you, permanently! (You get use of a corvette for this quest only).

Reward:
+600 zeni, +8 DP, +70 all stats, +8 Rp Credits
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<br><SELECT style="background-color: #83F52C; color: #000000; font-family: Lucida Calligraphy; font-size: 14px; width: 200px; "><br /><OPTION>Rem</OPTION><br /><OPTION>"NO CHANCE!"</OPTION><br /></div><br /><OPTION>Power Level: 707,000</OPTION></div>
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Rem
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The Super Namek
ooc- seeing as how vettes are 1 person and not 2 like i thought, ignore paryl being my copilot in previous quest.

Rem's sponsor ended up being rather impressed by his showing. Fourth place out of nearly 50 racers on his first official race was nothing to scoff at it seemed. After his patron handed over a credit chit with half the winnings for that round, Rem was invited to continue racing. Of course he agreed. He was here to make money so he could buy a new vessel to transport his people home, after all.

With all the business completed, the Namekian wandered over to a large viewscreen to see how the rest of the competition had fared. Running his eyes down the list, he noticed that Vash, in his current pseudonym had managed to place as well. Good... Good... A couple saiyans, a Keliouxan, a Kanassan and an Icosian who apparently had the backing of Siberius himself rounded out the top 7.

There were apparently going to be 12 racers in the next heat, with only the top 6 being allowed to continue to race in the actual Boonta Eve Classic. The five additional racers were the top 3 from last years race, and 2 additional racers from regional championships in other systems who had won their free slot in this round. The competition was going to be massively better than it had been, Rem realized. A quarter of the racers had beaten him in the last heat, and almost half the rest were champion racers. He figured that made him somewhere in the range of the 8th or 9th fastest if they went from the previous heat. Obviously he was going to have to do better than that.

He needed to talk with Vash... If they could find one another on the course, they could work together to eliminate at least a couple of their competitors. Having both of them place would give them a hell of an advantage going into the Boonta Classic...

-380 gtg back to work.
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<br><SELECT style="background-color: #83F52C; color: #000000; font-family: Lucida Calligraphy; font-size: 14px; width: 200px; "><br /><OPTION>Rem</OPTION><br /><OPTION>"NO CHANCE!"</OPTION><br /></div><br /><OPTION>Power Level: 707,000</OPTION></div>
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Rem
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The Super Namek
Rem was still standing over near the final scores when Vash walked over in his current disguise, another person in tow. It was a Saiyan, probably. Rem couldn't help but sniff, then wrinkle his nose a little as they approached. Vash proceeded to introduce the guy, someone he had met somewhere and they'd done something or other. Rem wasn't really paying attention. "Um, Vash... Let me talk to you for a second." He finally spoke up, unable to even pretend he was paying attention anymore. "Just... one second." Rem said to the saiyan, holding up a finger at him. "I need to ask him about something else entirely, its not about you, at all. Okay? Just one sec. yeah." Rem turned then, moving a dozen feet or so away with his old buddy.

"Sup?" Vash asked, looking back and smiling awkwardly at Dean, or Diane... What the hell was his name?

"The hells this?" Rem asked, crossing his arms. He was facing the Saiyan, and was forced to give that same 'we're totally not talking about you behind your back, except we are' smile.

"What?" Vash asked.

"Dude, a podmonkey?" Rem asked. "I hate those things. You can smell it, right? That smell? That's what spending the first 20 years of your life farting inside a space pod smells like. They ALL smell like that. We don't need a fart smelling pod monkey in our crew..."

"Dude..." Vash began, as if trying to figure out how to respond. "Dude... Not cool." Then he turned, and walked back over to Debbie.

"Damn it..." Rem muttered to himself.


326//706
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<br><SELECT style="background-color: #83F52C; color: #000000; font-family: Lucida Calligraphy; font-size: 14px; width: 200px; "><br /><OPTION>Rem</OPTION><br /><OPTION>"NO CHANCE!"</OPTION><br /></div><br /><OPTION>Power Level: 707,000</OPTION></div>
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Rem
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The Super Namek
Rem took a few moments to hide his annoyance, and then walked back over to the two. Vash was already talking about working together in the next round to try to make sure they all ended up placing high enough to move on. The real money started after this heat.

"Right," Rem said, interrupting. "I'm going and finding some of those bumpers... More than a couple of those sonsa bitches tried ramming me, and the bumpers, with metal plate backings, seemed to do the trick while ensuring no damage to the actual body of their own 'vettes, or any of the bits hanging off it. Going to talk to the sponsor and get 'em to hire some wrench rats to put em on I guess."

From there, the conversation escalated. The three began to hatch a few plans and tactics that might work if they found themselves near one another, with someone else in a position to pass or just vulnerable enough to be taken out without damage to themselves.

Rem came up with one really neat idea he wanted to try. "I'm going to find some really deep bumpers. Like, Long. I wanna attach em to either side of my rear thrusters. If, say, i'm in 5th and one of you are in 7th and going to get DQ'd, and theres a guy between us... I can get in front of him, slam the deceleration and essentially bounce the fucker. The force of the blow will send me forward, and I can regain speed, but it'll retard his progress and should be enough of an opening for the other one of us to pass him. Making sure the bumpers are deep enough will ensure that we don't wreck our thrusters or exhausts. Misjudging the angle or distance would suck." He finished.

Soon thereafter, the three of them departed the pilots lounge. They ended up in one of the random bars on Suicide Station that catered to the seedier elements. Rem, recently sober, made sure to drink cola and fruit juice.

385//1,091

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<br><SELECT style="background-color: #83F52C; color: #000000; font-family: Lucida Calligraphy; font-size: 14px; width: 200px; "><br /><OPTION>Rem</OPTION><br /><OPTION>"NO CHANCE!"</OPTION><br /></div><br /><OPTION>Power Level: 707,000</OPTION></div>
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Rem
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The Super Namek
With work crews fixing the ships up to the specs their drivers wanted, and the bars closing for the night; Rem and the others guys decided it was time to turn in. The Namekian almost made the mistake of heading for his old room, but gladly was sober enough to remember he was staying with Dentas in his guest room. He headed over that way, peeled off the face shit and hair he had to wear to keep from being recognized as a Namekian, and crawled into bed. Tomorrow, he was going to make some money... He had to. His people depended on him.

The next morning Rem rose early, and sighed when he saw Becky sitting in the living room waiting on him. "Big race day, eh Green?" She asked, a wicked twinkle in her eyes. He could tell she was interested, but Rem had a woman. Then again... she was on an asteroid, and stank pretty badly due to the lack of modern facilities. He could probably get away with it without much fuss... But no... He better not. Just keep it professional for now.

An hour and a half later, once more looking like your average Keliouxan citizen, the Namekian made his way back to the pilots lounge. About half the pilots were already there, with the majority of them looking nervous. Vash wasn't around yet, and when Rem searched for him mentally, realized the Demon was still asleep. Rem gave him a bit of a nudge, and then a bit MORE than just a nudge to wake his ass up. He'd be down in a few minutes, rem figured.

The Saiyan was there, and with a sigh Rem went over to him. He nodded once to the fellow, then began to study the board listing all the pilots, ship names, and sponsors. Time seemed to pass through molasses. Two hours eventually passed, and all the pilots were ordered to head to their ships. They were arranged in 4 staggered lines. Rem, having placed 4th the day previous, was in the 3rd line. Vash, the Saiyan, and a Kanassan were in the 4th and final line, having placed so far back the day previous. The first two lanes were full of the former champions and regional winners.

It looked like they were going to have their work cut out for them if they wanted to finish in the top six.

467//1558 (out of 4700)

(You guys finish it up)
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<br><SELECT style="background-color: #83F52C; color: #000000; font-family: Lucida Calligraphy; font-size: 14px; width: 200px; "><br /><OPTION>Rem</OPTION><br /><OPTION>"NO CHANCE!"</OPTION><br /></div><br /><OPTION>Power Level: 707,000</OPTION></div>
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Vash
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Gross...
Once the race had finished and Vash won over the appeal of the crew of the number 14 racer, enlisting himself as the primary driver for the team, Vash walked around the area somewhat aimlessly, trying to meet up with Rem. The task itself shouldn't have been too difficult, there were a few Namekians on suicide station, but the place wasn't exactly teeming with them. But, in his somewhat inebriated state, he was having some trouble locking on to his energy signature.

The demon was walking around, still in his racing gear, minus the helmet. His smile was stretching from ear to ear, beaming proudly at what he had just accomplished. This was supposed to be a goof, he wasn't taking any of this seriously. Hell, he was drunk through the first race, completely. And yet, somehow, through sheer stupidity and a bit of will, but mostly luck, he had emerged, not only alive and in one piece, but in a position to advance.

Suddenly, a familiar presence stopped him cold in his tracks and sobered him up completely. He almost couldn't believe his eyes. It's... It's him... The thought crashed into his mind like a head on collision. He actually came. And by some sort of weird twist of fate, he was even in the race it appeared.

Vash made his way through the crowd, pushing through the masses until he arrived at his destination, right next to the pesky Saiyan that had been visiting him in the astral realm on several occasions. All of them violent. It was the strangest thing. Just seeing the Saiyan's face made his head throb. He recalled their last encounter, where a vicious head butt was exhanged between the two. Thankfully, it was only in the astral realm, so no real damage had been done. But, the sheer force of the cranial connection had sent them both spiraling out of control. If it had been for real, he probably would have fractured his skull. It was weird how memories, even ones forged on an entirely different plane of existence, could instill real physical trauma once revisited.

Vash's eyes shot up to the leaderboard rankings, searching for the name Vegejor, but, it wasn't there. He must be using an alias or something, Vash deduced. He stood shoulder to shoulder with the Saiyan that came all this way looking for him. Was he looking for a fight? Was he seeking power? His true motives were unclear, and Vash wanted to get to the bottom of it.

"So... You showed up..." The demon whispered just loud enough for Vegejor, or whoever he happened to be, to hear.

"Excuse me?" The Saiyan asked with quite the puzzled expression on his face. "Do I know you?"

Vash turned and looked at him. He was about to say something like "don't play dumb," "you know exactly who I am," something tough and intimidating, but after he studied him a little more, he realized that this wasn't the Saiyan he thought it was. "Oh, shit..." Vash's face turned bright red with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I thought you were someone else. My bad." That's when he noticed Rem standing just under the rankings board.

Vash had a little change in his pocket, and felt like screwing with Rem a little bit. It was probably a stupid idea, but hey, Vash was enjoying his little vacation from near death experiences, a little fun couldn't hurt. "Well, listen, you wanna make a couple bucks?" Vash asked.

The Saiyans puzzled expression only grew worse. Damn Saiyans. But, he nodded. Vash instructed him to pretend to be friendly towards him, figuring Rem had a distaste for The entire Saiyan species. It was a stupid practical joke, but Vash couldn't help himself. He slipped the stranger a few credits and the pair made their way to the leaderboard to fuck with Rem a little bit before the next race began.

Wc 654/654/2212
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2015 ROLE PLAY OF THE YEAR WINNER!!
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Dain Sincara
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Writes like a Sumbitch
After barely making it too the loo to empty his stomach and resting his head for a bit on the surprisingly cool and refreshing porcelain bowl, Vegejor somehow found it in himself to get up and move away from his best friend at the moment.

With most of his stomach empty now and his Saiya-Jin blood proving to be quite good at removing the remaining toxins, he was already feeling quite a bit better as he went back into the open air.

“Never again…” He muttered though as he felt how his headache returned as he stepped back into the noise, but despite the dizziness he bravely fought his way through the crowd. He was a Saiya-Jin warrior after all, an elite and he was not going to let himself be backed into a corner just by some liquid. He was going to beat this, claim his reward and search for his target.

It all went relatively well, despite the fact that he was swaying with every step, until he came past a s certain stand. At first he did not notice it, but slowly the thick smell of burned grease and some sweetness he could not identify, was penetrating his nose.

Instantly his breathing stopped and he tried to remain strong, but it was already too late and his stomach turned on him once more.

`I am coming my friend. Please still be there and free!´ He thought desperately as he turned around and sprinted back towards the building which housed the familiar toilet. Green fluid was already leaking between the cracks of his fingers as he finally reached the house, janked open the door and just in time he was able to thrust his head so deeply into the toilet bowl, he could actually feel his hair getting wet.

All that came out of his mouth was just fluid and some green chunks he could not even remember eating. In all it was not so bad, but the smell trapped inside the bowl by his own massive head and hearing the echo of his bowels working their hardest to get it up in the first place, was enough that a moment later a second and a third wave spewed out of his mouth.

If he had worn socks he could have sworn he would have puked those out as well…

After it felt he was all done throwing up for now he was actually feeling a bit better and he slowly removed his head from the toilet. In the nearby sink he washed his face, letting the refreshing cool water do it´s job and washed away a few of the larger chunks from his hair.

Having learned his lesson though Vegejor did not return back to the streets imediately this time. Instead he drank a bit of the sour water coming from the faucet and than returned to his trusted toilet bowl. After locking the door behind him he slowly lowered his head and let it rest upon the cool porcelain as he closed his eyes. There he waited for his stomach to stop trying to be a ballet dancer.

Just for a few minutes, he decided he would rest. Just a few minutes…







When he finally woke up again he could tell it was already dark, as the artificial lights had jumped on and the light coming in through the tiny sealing window was too pale to be sunlight.

At first it annoyed him that he must have actually slept for quite some time, but as he got up he noticed that, aside from a bit of a dry throat, he was actually feeling much better. His headache seemed to be mostly gone and his stomach had settled in nicely.

As he looked in the mirror though he was still a bit pale and he noticed his hair still looked a bit green and chunky.

His hair he could fix though with a good scrub and the cold, but sour water, from the toilet sink actually helped him refresh a bit as well. For the moment he was actually feeling quite good and he after quenching his thirst a bit he went out into the street again.

It was quite a bit colder now that the sun was on the other side of whatever they where standing on and the docks were actually quite empty.

That was not unlike he had expected though and even the fact that the asteroid racer owner had moved on without a trace was not too his surprise. Dain did consider him an honorable man, but after the stunt he pulled he would probably also have tried to move off without saying goodbye.

Even feeling as horrible as he did though Dain had thought of that and had his scouter activated as he got out from the racer and moved towards the toilet.

“Sweets, I know you have followed all that, so help me out and tell me where I can find the racing owner and his beloved corvette.” Vegejor said as he pulled the folded up scouter from his pocket and activated it.

For a moment there was silence and than a female voice appeared on the other line, that he knew to be his ships AI.

“I told you that drinking is not good. I mean with my old race it was completely banned and even thinking about drinking was enough to warrant a demotion and three years in the brig.” She said, rambling on about the old race as she tended to do on every occasion, but eventually she seemed to catch herself and actually give him the information you need. “Ah… I am doing it again, ain´t I? My apologies Dain. Let´s see, my scouter's are still out of wack, but that hand held thing while weak and inaccurate seems to have caught it.” She said and than went silent for a moment, giving Dain the opportunity to poke back.

“So you mean that this antiquated, minimalistic and unsophisticated technology did a better job than you, pride of your fantastic race?” He said with a played taunt in his voice, even though he did not have to.

He knew from experience that his ship hated the condition she was in and felt truly ashamed that she was nothing more than a flying rust bucket at the moment.

“Just follow your scouter, I programmed it to lead you to him.” The icy voice of his ship could be heard through his scouter and than went silent as Vegejor knew she disconnected, like a true woman throwing a hissy fit.

Knowing his ship there was nothing more to say and unless he needed her again it was pointless to make small talk so he simply put his scouter, while disconnecting the call.

The man actually was not that far away and after just a few minutes Vegejor had found his home. For cauldron standards it was actually pretty sturdy and it showed that the man had more wealth than he had let to believe.

Still resenting the man for the alcohol he fed him and the fact that he had been tricked into flying something, Vegejor did not even bother using the door. With his bare hands he pried open the thick metal bars that where the gate and a small KI-Blast was enough to allow him entrance into the house.

“I guess you and I have something to talk about.” Vegejor said with a grin as he walked through the cloud of dust and entered the man´s home.

As he had hoped he found the middle aged men sitting petrified on the couch and apparently he had been watching some TV, clearly not expecting Vegejor to show up like that.

While dusting himself off Vegejor walked towards the man, grabbing a letter opening from the desk and sat down next to the man just as he seemed to regain some control. “Shhh, don´t bother. I am not here to kill you, I just want to talk about what happened today and find a way that never happens again.” Vegejor said with in his most bitter sweet voice as he pulled his arm around the man, careful to position the opener so that it would rest against the man´s neck, without piercing through the skin.

Regardless to say the talk did not last very long.

Just as he had left the owners house with a full bag of money in his hand and the promise he could represent him again, Vegejor could not believe his eyes.

Right in front of him he saw a familiar face, walking long with his arm in a camaraderie way over a Saiya-Jin he did not know.

`Found ya!´ Dain thought as he looked at the man again, confirming it was indeed the man he had fought in the gem world and told him to find him. It would have been hard to forget that face though after having slammed into it with full force and the aura that man gave off was still giving him chills. In a good way.

Now there was only the way to meet up with him. Normally Dain might have attacked straight away, but despite the late hour the place was still pretty crowded and he had been assured that if he killed people too openly he could be disqualified.

Instead he had a better idea. Silently gathering his power he loosened his muscles a bit and than moved at top speed.

Where one moment Vash´s hand had been resting calmly upon the stranger neck, for a moment there was only a blur and than Vegejor appeared, grin first, taking the man´s place. “I guess I found you my friend.” He spoke with great pleasure as his grin grew even wider as he looked directly at Vash. “So what are you doing here in this place, it is not exactly glamorous here.” He said friendly, keeping up the act for now.

He had found his target and with Vash´s arm on his shoulder there would be no surprise escape, so there was no rush to get into the fight just yet.

It was a good feeling and suddenly he understood why so many people liked being a hunter. He had tracked his target and found it, which was actually a pretty good feeling and now he could look forward to the fight. It had been so easy and clean, he was actually proud of himself. At least for being a Saiya-Jin he kept it clean and showed control.

The only cost was a poor man, lying in some dark and stinking alley. A small stream of blood had ran down the corner of his mouth, as he lay motionless in a puddle of something… moist… with his neck broken.

WC: 1.819/1.819/4.031
Death is the only real escape from living.
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Rem
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The Super Namek
**Status: We are still at 2212 words out of 4300, as Dain is not on Cauldron this week**
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<br><SELECT style="background-color: #83F52C; color: #000000; font-family: Lucida Calligraphy; font-size: 14px; width: 200px; "><br /><OPTION>Rem</OPTION><br /><OPTION>"NO CHANCE!"</OPTION><br /></div><br /><OPTION>Power Level: 707,000</OPTION></div>
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Rem
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The Super Namek
Sealed into the cockpit of his corvette, Rem checked his radar once again. It was only the 20th time in the last 5 minutes. Vash was still in the row behind him. Still waiting, just like Rem was, for the race to start. The two of them, and the Saiyan vash had apparently hired to help them out, had come up with a few plans and maneuvers they would try to swing the race in their favor at various points. Rem just hoped they had corvettes fast enough to keep up with everyone. He was assuming they were all on the same general level, in terms of how good their rides were. Afterall, they had beaten out nearly 50 other guys in the first race. That had to mean that in terms of quality, they were up there.

Finally, an announcers voice could be heard mumbling through the cockpit. It came over the in ship radio a second later. It went through some banal pleasantries before the 'start your engine' line. There were audible roars all around Rem, and his vehicle fairly shook from it. They weren't actually starting in space, where there would be no sound, but rather in one of the largest docks on Suicide Station, where the crowds and cameras would get great angles to see them. All through the course there would be cameras on probes, trying to get the best shots, but this would be the only time the actual fans could see the racers and their 'vettes up close and personal.

A red light mounted near the exit for the dock began to blink steadily. It blinked 10 times before pausing at Red for 5 full seconds, then pulsing once more. A yellow light blinked 2 seconds later. Corvettes revved their engines all around him, he joined in the RPM squealing fun for the hell of it. Two seconds later the yellow light was replaced by a solid green one.

Like the proverbial bats out of hell, 11 Corvettes slammed out of the chute. Rem's private radio cackled with laughter, and he couldn't help but smile. The corvette right beside Vash's hadn't moved. Rem didn't even have to ask. All's fair in love and asteroid racing.

Rem realized that he was falling behind the guys in his line a little bit, and focused on the race. He reached the sweet spot in his rpms, and shifted to the highest gear. He gained a few meters of distance back on them. Checking his radar, he saw that Vash had moved into position right behind him. "3 meters fore, 4 meters Port." Rem announced into the radio. "Draft and Drag." It was one of the first maneuvers they had come up with.

Vash settled in behind Rem for a few moments, reducing the drag on his ship by drafting behind the Namekians wake through space. "3,2,1, Mark." Rem announced, and then swerved tightly to the right, or starboard. Vash immediately shot forward, angling slightly to the port side, or left. He passed Rem with speed to spare, and then settled in BENEATH the corvette that had been 3 meters in front of and 4 meters to the left of Rem. The Namekian swerved back to port, and settled behind the corvette.

Vash's wake, beneath the ship, caused it some problems almost immediately. He wasn't as aerodynamic with the exhaust of vashs ship being channeled directly into the body of his vessel. Rem, right behind the guy now, took advantage. 12 seconds after he moved out of the way for Vash, the Namekian shot over and past his struggling competitor, coming back down a second later just as Vash rose beside him.

Side by side, the two of them cut a path through space- on towards the next competitors. By 'drafting' Rem, vash had managed to move from the 4th line, to the 3rd. By using their opponent's Draft, Rem had managed to also shift from his position losing ground in the 3rd line to just in front of it. They were now side by side, slightly ahead of the other pilots in Line 3. Line 2 wasn't too far ahead. If they kept up speed, teamwork, and their corvettes didnt have any mechanical failures, they might just be able to ensure they both finished in the top 6.

838//2396//3050
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<br><SELECT style="background-color: #83F52C; color: #000000; font-family: Lucida Calligraphy; font-size: 14px; width: 200px; "><br /><OPTION>Rem</OPTION><br /><OPTION>"NO CHANCE!"</OPTION><br /></div><br /><OPTION>Power Level: 707,000</OPTION></div>
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Vash
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Gross...
Through actual teamwork, Rem and Vash were actually in the race. A concept that at first seemed to be a stretch of the imagination was becoming a reality. They somehow had this undiscovered talent within them and were putting it to good use on the race track.

Their speeders blurred on the race way. After a bit of drafting expertise and some sure fire piloting manuevers, Vash turned his head to the left and made eye contact to Rem. They flashed each other a friendly smile. As far as their adventures and travels had taken them together over the years, the two warriors had never encountered something like this. Whenever they managed to find themselves in a problematic situation, it always seemed like strength got them through. But, there was no way that was going to be the case today. No, only sheer will, determination, and a bit of luck would see the pair through their newest trial.

As their grins disappeared, Vash turned his attention back to the race. With only the top six advancing, they sat in the third line back, waiting to make their move. Suddenly, a flap on the left side of Vash's cruiser burst into flame, some sort of over Heating malfunction his on board computer screamed. Smoke and sparks began to billow out from it, as the small square of metal hung on by a thread, flapping wildly at the intense speed.

The group of vehicles that headed up the front of the pack rose up an over a small asteroid, and then into a tight left turn. The smoke was starting to clog Vash's vision. Something had to be done about it, and the infernal racket the alarm system was making. Thinking quickly, he searched his cockpit for anything that could have been of any decent use. A small roll of duct tape... Probably melt from the heat. An air pump... No good here. A torch lighter? Yeah...

Vash managed to steady himself into a straight away, and made his move. It was going to be difficult. He had to manage the steering stick with his telekinetic powers, lean over the side of the vehicle, and somehow manage to weld the flap shut. It was his only hope. Vash kicked his boot off onto the accelerator and jumped onto the hood of his cruiser. Just as he leaned over the side, his vehicle caught up to the one ahead of him. With cat like reflexes, he pulled his head back, inches away from sure decapitation. Lucky for him though, he managed to jump a spot and slid into sixth place.

Vash lit the torch lighter with his right Hand and held it close to the wobbling flap. His left hand poured ki into the lighter, turning the flame bright blue. Sparks flew as he began to weld, a few struck him in the eye. His ship began to buck as his concentration lapsed, nearly throwing him from the hood. Jesus Vash, he cursed at himself. Get your shit together.

He acted quickly and somehow managed to finish off the weld, saving his craft. With an over the top display of aerobatics, he back flipped back into the drivers seat and regained control of the vessel as the drivers entered the final lap, he and Rem side by side and in a good position to make a final move and qualify.

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Rem
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The Super Namek
As soon as the Namekian had seen the smoke start rolling off of Vash's engine casing, he knew they were in trouble. Vash was in motion within seconds, climbing from the safety of his cockpit to deal with the situation. Rem had to do something, though. Already he was being forced to slightly back off his acceleration. Vash's ship had lost a little speed, and Rem assumed they weren't going to get it back. He was losing air pressure and his profile, standing there outside the cockpit, was causing an additional loss of aerdynamics.

"Give it a shot..." Rem decided, looking in front of him to where the next ship in line, a ship they had been overtaking quite handily, was now beginning to inch forward away from them once more. Rem reached out with his mind. His hand rose and pointed towards the ship, directing his mind as he tried to find... something. "THERE!" Rem exclaimed to himself as he clamped down on something. Opening his eyes, but not stopping his exertions, Rem realized he must have caught ahold of one of its aft exhaust ports. Rem scooted down in the seat a few inches so he could cradle the steering wheel between his knees. This accomplished, his other hand rose from the wheel and joined the other.

Now, rems mental powers weren't really limited by hand movements. His hands didn't control his mental powers. But as a focusing exercise, there was some sort of placebo effect involved. Rem doubled down on his efforts to concentrate, pulling back ever so slightly with his hands. The ship before them stopped accelerating away. Then, moments later, it began to fall behind once again. "Gotcha, you son of a bitch." Rem muttered through clenched teeth as he began to draw the ship back farther and farther.

Back, actually, was not what was going on. The ship was moving at a terrific clip across space. However, the pilot would know something was wrong with it by the fact that his acceleration was being retarded. Suddenly, the ship began to nearly vibrate within Rems mind as the pilot tried everything he could think to pull away from whatever was....

The exhaust muffler snapped off in the next instant, and the ship seemed to lose all forward momentum. Rem was actually forced to swerve to the right, and then back into formation with Vash just as the Demon hopped back into his cockpit and slammed the acceleration to the floor again.

Rem grinned back at Vash. With that racer out, they had just slipped into the 5th and 6th positions respectively, and were going to be moving on. Rem looked back to ensure that no one was coming up too fast and was going to pass them as they finished the final lap. There were a couple of racers getting close, but they were honestly more concerned with one another and were going to screw themselves out of any chance to place.

"We did it." Rem said over the headset mic that connected him to his good buddy. "We're going to the boonta eve classic!" Rem couldn't keep a wide smile off his face as they crossed the finish line.

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<br><SELECT style="background-color: #83F52C; color: #000000; font-family: Lucida Calligraphy; font-size: 14px; width: 200px; "><br /><OPTION>Rem</OPTION><br /><OPTION>"NO CHANCE!"</OPTION><br /></div><br /><OPTION>Power Level: 707,000</OPTION></div>
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