#royce fiala

[theonetheycallsagey]

Ignition Chapter 2: New Kids on the Block

The opening race! Who will come out on top? Who is this mystery driver coming from the crowd? Find out on this episode of Dragonba- er, I mean, Ignition!

Riley Currant and Sienna Umberon belong to @gruntnuker-rwby

Sapphire’s heart was about to beat out of her chest. Her hands gripped the steering wheel tighter. If they didn’t have to be ready on the pedals, her legs would’ve been bouncing with anticipation. Her eyes were transfixed on the skunk hybrid in front of her motioning for cars to line up. And behind that skunk hybrid, an empty city street under the lights of downtown ready for its players to take center stage. This was it. The crescendo, the beat drop that couldn’t even be rivaled by the ones she heard so frequently in clubs. It was exactly what Sapphire lived for.

The moment Royce’s arms dropped, Sapphire got her sweet release. A fleeting moment, but one she cherished nonetheless, as her suspense released into dopamine and adrenaline. Likewise, her Ford Focus RS felt that same rush as its 4-cylinder engine burst off the line. As Royce quickly disappeared out of view, she then shifted her priority to the car outside her passenger side window. The black Monte Carlo of Jynx Fushon was just beginning to poke its nose as they climbed through the gears. The 350 small block motor underneath the Chevy’s hood was putting each horsepower it produced to good use. As they continued down the initial straight, Sapphire’s rear view filled with the headlights of a Golf that was forced to fall in line after a poor start. And while she couldn’t see it, she knew that the RX-8 was fiercely keeping pace on the other side of Jynx. Sapphire kept her nose underneath the muscle car to hold onto the inside line for turn 1. But, Jynx didn’t drift up the track like she expected, instead remaining gripped to the street and keeping the two side by side. Now, Victoria was behind both of them, trying to pick a lane to apply pressure from.

Before they reached the next set of corners - a quick left-right flick one block over onto Odessa Avenue - Jynx's power started to pull him ahead. Sapphire groaned softly at the sight of taillights. Before Victoria could take advantage and follow Jynx past her, however, Sapphire sent her Focus through the cityscape chicane. The nimble hatchback had a much happier time going through the turns than her competitors. The gap to the Monte Carlo closed just as quickly as it formed. But, with Jynx on the apex, there was no opportunity for Sapphire to use her advantage and make a pass.

Facing the drivers next was a fast turn onto Summerwood Boulevard. Just outside the line of cones demarcating the track, a girl was sat in the back of a silver and black Chevrolet El Camino, with her phone out to record the action. First, she directed her camera on the lead as Sapphire tried to use the outside line to go the long way around, but to no avail. Then, she swiftly switched to Victoria defending a charging Cato. Just as she thought her filming job was done, though, the sound of an incoming V8 engine whipped her aim back to the street. As the Mustang flew through the turn past the girl, gaining ground on the others, she reached for a radio hooked to a belt loop on her denim shorts.

Back at the parking garage, everyone was abuzz with speculation at this new arrival. Questions kept arising like heat from the blacktop after a burnout, with no answers to appease them. Emotions ranged from bewilderment to concern to outrage. Who was this crowd missile? Why were they here? Were they looking for someone in particular? Everyone was looking to Royce for an explanation, but she had none to give.

“Yo boss, you’re seeing this right?” Royce’s radio hummed to life. “Whats going on? Who is that?”

“Harley, you’re like the 18th person to ask me that in the past two minutes. I have no idea,” she said back into the radio. The stress and frustration in her voice was a struggle to keep hidden. Meanwhile, the other three West Coast All-Stars were stuck watching the action from the sidelines. Solomon’s tablet displayed Sapphire’s onboard feed and the video Harley just messaged him. 

“C’mon, Sapph. Get around his ass!” Auburn yelled at the screen like a sports fan watching their hometown team.

“If she stays close and keeps biding her time, she’ll be fine. He’ll make a mistake long before she will. She’s got this,” Dash said.

“You guys are more worried about the race than the fact that there’s an intruder in it?” Solomon asked his teammates. He tried to keep his anxiety at bay and sound cool, but it still crept into his voice enough for his friends to recognize it. For his troubles, he received a hearty pat on the shoulder from Auburn. It took some effort to fake not feeling Auburn’s strength.

“She’s a big girl. She can handle it,” she said.

“That Mustang’s got no chance of catching up. Just some reject looking to cut the line and pull a fast one. So no, I’m not worried,” Dash added again with unwavering conviction.

“You should be.”

The trio all turned around to follow the trail of an unknown female voice. Stood behind them was the same biker Sapphire had taken a picture of before the race began. She faced them all with arms crossed over her black and red Icon biker jacket. Then, a pair of skeleton gloved hands moved to unfasten the helmet. The face revealed underneath had maroon shoulder length locks and red eyes that were staring down the All-Stars. The three of them exchanged glances and shrugs.

“Uhm, do we know you?” Auburn questioned.

“No, but you will,” the biker said.

“Ugh. The amount of corny ass lines I’ve heard from rookie nobodies,” Dash muttered while rolling his eyes so loudly it was a miracle the whole meet didn’t see it. The biker certainly took notice at his lack of care in keeping his words down.

“Watch your mouth, red. Name’s Riley Currant. I’m the leader of Garage 21,” she said icily at Dash.

“Never heard of it,” he scoffed.

“We’ve been going across the country beating the best each scene has to offer. New York, Chicago, Seattle. And now we’re finally at our last stop. LA, the origin of hot rodding and drag racing.”

“So, the Mustang. They’re with you?” Solomon asked the newcomer softly.

“Yup. That’s my babe. It was her idea.”

“Hmph. So you’re on a cute little road trip. Big deal. Why does that mean you get to just jump into a race you had no business even knowing about?” Dash said. Riley took one step toward him. She was the same height as Dash, so looking into his eyes as a smirk grew more and more across her lips was just that much easier. Dash furrowed his brow in turn.

“To get your attention,” she said. “We aren’t waiting. We wanna put the best teams on notice. And not gonna lie, when I heard you pull up in a Ferrari that sounded stock, I almost didn’t believe it was you.”

“How do you know about us?” Solomon jumped in again, inadvertently cutting his leader off before he could fire back with a comment defending his Italian baby.

“We got more reach than we thought,” Auburn nudged Solomon with her elbow, chuckling pridefully.

“Did you think we were gonna go into this blind? Besides, your influencer friend made it really easy to keep track of who’s who in this scene,” Riley said. Having heard bits and pieces of the conversation, Royce had joined the group at this point. She was eyeing the stranger cautiously, still demanding answers.

“Well if you’re as experienced as you say you are, then you should know this shit isn’t free to play. Barging in like this isn’t exactly how street racing works, sweetheart,” Dash said. With the grin still plastered on her face and without breaking eye contact, she withdrew a sizeable stack of cash from her pocket. She waved it in Dash’s face a little, prompting a swipe to knock it out of her hands that was too slow.

“You’re the organizer, right?” Riley addressed Royce. She nodded, still looking unsure as RIley handed her the wad of money. “We’re not looking for free rides. We’re just looking to make a name for ourselves. Just as we’ve done at every place we’ve stopped so far.”

“Oh you did that. But that’s not always a good thing,” Dash said, his words still armed defensively like daggers.

“Very ironic coming from you, silver spoon,” Riley said while desperately trying not to just laugh in his face. Meanwhile, Royce had been quietly counting the money during their back and forth. She had enough to cover her usual entrance fee plus a little extra. She stepped in between the two bickering redheads, waving them both off to shush them.

“She’s clear with me as far as money goes. Although next time, I’ll just text you when we get together,” Royce said. She stuffed the cash into her jacket pocket and in its place she pulled out a vape pen. One hit, a puff of smoke, the taste and scent of blueberry taking over. Her stress levels were finally coming down some. “Save me the anxiety, ok?”

The distance between Sapphire in second and Victoria in third had grown. It essentially split the race into two smaller battles. Cato was finding it difficult to get out of last. The RX-8 was doing good work keeping him behind, especially through the turns. If there was one benefit of being in the back, at least his attention could remain solely fixed on what’s in front of him. No reason to be glancing at his mirrors. Not like there was going to be a surprise fifth racer to defend from.

Wait, what?

Much to his surprise, a pair of Ford Mustang headlights were rapidly growing in his mirrors. By the time he noticed, it was too late to stop the charging blue oval. It breezed past him with enough straight line speed to make a defense almost impossible anyways. Now, the Mazda was next in their sights. As they neared, Victoria was unsure if she should even spend the energy on the tresspasser. She doesn’t count as an actual participant, right? But in the end, racer instinct kicked in. Nothing gets past. She threw a hard block on the Mustang. But, it could only stop their advance briefly. 

Back at the front, Sapphire was starting to get antsy. In her world, there were a lot more fun ways to get pinned down than being stuck in second place. But, that Monte Carlo was proving to be a nuisance to pass. In racing, catching someone is one thing, but getting around them was a whole different thing entirely. And if Sapphire didn’t know that before, she was certainly being reminded of that now. 

If she was feeling any kind of annoyance at her situation, however, she wasn’t showing it. Nothing was gonna shake her. She took a deep breath and instead of reaching for her shifter, she tapped the screen to the right of the steering wheel. On it was the radio tab left with the same playlist she boomed down the highway earlier on pause. The EDM made its return known with one subtle press of the play button. Jynx cocked an eyebrow at the mirrors he had been fixated on upon hearing the music.

Sapphire was all over his rear end. She first looked left. Then, she cut all the way to the right lane. Each move she took was countered by the Chevy, but the margin of error was shrinking. Every one of his safeguarding measures cut it closer and closer, looking more and more shaky. They began to approach a long right-hander that took them past the library, which had long been closed for the night. The turn tightened up on exit, meaning any passing here was going to be mere inches from ending in disaster. Upon entering the corner, Jynx’s car slid up just a little, leaving a gap just big enough to fit a Focus through. And right as the song’s buildup section was coming to an end-

“Got him!” The beat drop. Her eyes electrified. Her smile couldn’t be contained. She stomped on the gas pedal and gunned it toward the opening. It was a wild move, one that caused Jynx to stare outside his driver side window in near disbelief. She practically threw the car to his inside, but never once made any contact with the Monte Carlo. He was forced to listen to that beat drop as it passed him by. With that, Sapphire was now in the lead.

With the race well into its closing stages, Jynx had little time to waste in shifting to the offensive. He tried to put the power down on out the corner but Sapphire took his preferred racing line away. This halted his momentum for the moment, causing Jynx to growl under his breath. He barely had time to squint into a concentrated death stare at Sapphire before a glow from behind caught his eye.

“Heh, guess you don’t wanna lose that bet after all, Victoria,” Jynx said to himself. But, as the shine dimmed down and the front end came into focus, the invading Mustang made its presence known. “What the fuck? Who’re you??” he said louder in bewilderment. A blue car stuck behind him was a sight he welcomed, but with Sapphire in front of him, then..who was this? Likewise, Sapphire saw the fellow Ford slotted in line from behind Jynx.

“Party crasher, huh?” she said. Her voice did not express the surprise her eyes gave off at seeing this uninvited guest. There was no concern in her words, unlike her other competitors. There was no panic, no anger. Only a new thrill of someone new. “Ok, newbie. Better not miss your shot.”

As the now 3-way battle for the lead rushed toward the final turn, a left that would put them on a one-way track back to the parking garage, the Mustang suddenly darted out of Jynx’s slipstream and to his inside. Jynx moved down to try and squeeze them out of room, trying to force them to back out of it. But, the Mustang wouldn’t budge. With an impressive display of fearlessness, they kept on the throttle and turned Jynx’s move against him, practically powering him aside. The Chevy wiggled, forcing Jynx to give up the position as he had to let off the gas and recollect his car. With second now secured, all that was left was a last sprint to the finish line and a sporty blue hatchback. However, the battle for second cost both Jynx and the Ford too much time. Sapphire was able to streak across the finish line in first, securing another victory for the All-Stars.

“Yeah, baby! Yes!” Sapphire shouted in triumph. She eased on the brakes and gently brought the car back down to a leisurely, more speed limit friendly pace. The turn around and casual stroll back to the rest of her team was like a the drive to victory lane for her. And her teammates were the #1 fans to shower her with congratulations.

“That’s how it’s done!” Auburn said while pumping her fist. Sapphire gave her a quick nod of thanks as she got out the car. But, any further celebrating was cut short as her interest was peaked in something else - the mystery Mustang that had now pulled alongside her. Peering over the roof, she waited for the driver to reveal themselves. Her anticipation was first met by a pair of fox ears, both marked with several piercings, most notably one with a pentagram on it on the left ear. That was followed by long brown hair done in dreads with the sides shaved. And as she turned around to face the All-Stars, a pair of heterochromatic eyes, one a glimmering gold and the other an icy, metallic blue, peered back at her. Piercings dotted her face as well, including her nose, lips, and brow. The lighthearted smile she gave was a stark contrast to Sapphire’s confusion.

“Damn, you know if I had an even start I woulda had you!” Her voice was a bit deeper in pitch than an average female voice. Her words carried no kind of regret whatsoever for the race she had just broken into. As she stepped out away from the cars and toward LA’s established top racers, she revealed a busty chest hidden under a comfortable T-shirt and jacket.

“How’s the cheesy quote go? It doesn’t matter if you win by an inch or a mile?” Sapphire said. She flashed her trademark heartwarming smile, almost as if to the other girl’s nonchalance. She recognized the game being played. Auburn joined her side, staring down the fellow fox hybrid with equal parts defensiveness and curiosity. She seemed like someone Auburn could roll with. “Sooo who are you exactly?” Sapphire inquired.

“Oh, right! Name’s Sienna Umberon. Your favorite menace to society aannnnd-”. As she left her sentence on a cliffhanger, she made a gesture to the rear of her car. On the rear bumper, there was a sticker that said- “Fastest Fox in Town,” she finished. Auburn’s ears twitched slightly. 

“Wanna try that last part again?” she said, desperately trying yet still failing to keep her anger internal. Any interest she had in making a new hybrid friend had dissipated into the faintest scowl across her lips.

“What do you drive?” Sienna implored, almost in a tone of voice that was dying to egg Auburn on.

“Challenger Hellcat.”

“She’s our Hellfox,” Sapphire added.

“Hellfox, huh?” Sienna said. As the redhead Riley now joined her, arm wrapped around her shoulders, Sienna looked up in thought for a moment. “Where do I know that from? Oh yeah! You from Detroit by chance?” Auburn nodded. The Motor City was her hometown, born and raised, and where she first cut her teeth as a street racer. “Yeah, heard about you a lot when we passed through. Seem like the real deal. You had all the records up there.”

“Damn right,” Auburn said with a surge of confidence at the reminder of her hometown accolades. However, as she processed that last sentence again, that confidence quickly left her chest. Her fox ears shot straight up, and her face twisted with shock and outrage. “Wait. Had?!?”

“The sticker doesn’t lie,” Sienna tapped the front bumper teasingly like she was knocking on a door. “Riley and I built this thing to hurt Hellcats’ feelings.”

“I don’t know where you come off trying to step up to us like this. You snuck into a race just to have a shot at the champs, and guess what. You lost. So if you want another shot like that, work your way up the right way, then we’ll talk, ok? Back of the line,” Dash came in at last.

“Ooooooo, someone’s worried my degenerate ass is gonna whoop your ass,” Sienna said to him, her tail swaying as her sarcastically saccharine words were only interrupted by a snort of laughter.

“Worried? About you? Only thing I’m worried about with you is you trying to steal my watch.” His unflinching anger and commitment to the tough guy approach only caused Sienna to laugh louder.

“Yeah, this was the first impression I got from him too,” Riley said, joining in the laughter at Dash’s expense but much quieter.

“The first impression should be I’m above whatever hole you crawl out of that you call a home. If that makes you hate me, then I guess you can hate,” Dash said. Suddenly, Sienna broke away from Riley and marched forward towards the elite. The giggling was now gone. In its place were eyes of fire and a clenched fist poised to knock out the former shortstop. 

“I refuse to be lectured about ‘the right way’ by someone like you! You wanna talk shit to my Riley, then I’ll show you some hate!” But, an icy hand from behind promptly found her shoulder and stopped her in her tracks.

“Babe. Not here,” Riley said. Her calming touch instantly caused Sienna to untense her muscles. It was always a certain level of soothing to her, even when she didn’t want to be soothed. However, the blaze in her mismatching eyes did not fade one bit. After a moment of neither of them backing down, Sapphire also stuck a hand between them to aid in defusing the situation.

“We should go, guys. Things are winding down, and we don’t need to risk police catching the afterparty,” she said. Even as Dash and Sienna both took a step away from each other, the two refused to break the staring contest for another couple uneasy moments. So, Sapphire kept going, “It was fun getting to race you. Hope we get to do it again more evenly next time. And welcome to LA.”

“Yeah. Welcome,” Dash said with biting mockery.

“Oh don’t worry. You’ll be seeing a lot of us soon enough,” Riley said. The two factions separated to their camps and began to disembark from the meet. As they drove off into the southern California night, the cast of characters returned backstage after another performance. No doubt that the next act had been altered by this meeting.

[theonetheycallsagey]

Ignition Chapter 1: Party Time

The rush of every corner, the thrill of every race.. Is it more of a miracle that these racers can keep up with a city like Los Angeles? Or that Los Angeles can keep up with them?

So, this was originally a RWBY fanfiction I had worked on, but as my interest in RWBY has faded, I decided to reboot it with a fully original cast. Story takes place in a fictional and slightly fantasy Los Angeles. Huge thank you to the ones who support me and push me to get off my ass and actually write ( @wetsliceofbread ​ and @gruntnuker-rwby ​ especially for sharing this brainchild with me). Anyways, enjoy!

He gazed up at the sky through the car window. Orange and red skies were clinging onto their last moments before giving way to the black of night. Business owners just outside were closing up shop. Some were retreating home after a long day of getting pummeled by the southern California sun. But, nightfall wasn’t an end for Los Angeles. All it was instead was an opportunity for a new cast of characters to shine in the City of Angels. And at the heart of it all tonight sat the Clearview District, a place where people from all walks of life converged. Restaurants, fashion boutiques, nightclubs, and bars all mixed together. However, it also played as backdrop for something new to take shape in the city. A new scene, one that served as the perfect stage for these people of the night. It was also a scene that LAPD officials keen on gaining public favor promised to “put a stop to for the good of the city.”

Or at least, that’s what they kept saying. But currently, there wasn’t a single cop roaming the streets of the Clearview District.

The radio in the car softly crackled to life. Behind it, a male voice spoke softly yet calmly.

“I just notified R. Patrols have been rerouted. We are a go.” Another voice followed up, a female carrying a perky and excited tone.

“That’s our 21st century digital boy hard at work!”

“Let’s bust some ass!” A third voice, another female, chimed in, this one a tad deeper than the first. Finally, he reached for the radio. He had waited long enough to make his presence felt. 

“Time to remind this city who’s number 1. Let’s move All-Stars!” Every word he said oozed with arrogance, a swagger that was as resolute as it was painfully obvious to anyone who could hear him. Without another moment wasted, he turned the key and fired up the ignition.

The average driver on the freeway didn’t realize just how much they wanted a change in scenery from the sea of monochromatic sedans and pickup trucks. But they got exactly that in the form of a colorful convoy of four cars. On point was a sleek and graceful Ferrari 458 Italia clad in one of the prancing horse’s signature shades of red. Next in line was an orange Dodge Challenger Hellcat, adorned with black racing stripes and the word “HELLFOX” above the rear wheels. Then, a purple 1992 NSX marked with a Honda badge on the front and Japanese characters across the back windshield. And finally, bringing up the rear, a blue Ford Focus tricked out with a custom livery, blue underglow, and - as everyone else who was sharing the highway were quickly learning - a speaker system. As the quartet neared the Dawkins Drive exit, they took their opportunity to leave the freeway behind, forcing everyone else to return to the never-ending parade of the same old cars.

Halted by a red light at the bottom of the off ramp, the Ferrari driver leading the brigade watched as a blue Mitsubishi 3000GT stroll past. A lifted Dodge Ram went past a moment later in the opposite direction. Its tailgate was filled with a few people along with some traffic cones and “ROAD CLOSED” signs. He casually nudged the blinker switch to signal right turn and upon the light turning green, he led the way in pursuit of the Mitsubishi. A brief few blocks later, the group came across a parking garage that usually lay quiet and unsuspecting during the daytime hours. But, as evident by the groups of people excitedly chatting by the front gate and the tuned up cars entering it, it was the hottest spot LA’s nightlife had to offer tonight.

The commotion at the front gate turned its focus to the incoming squad as the Italian supercar led the way inside. The Focus brought the volume of their EDM playlist they were previously blasting down. The Hellcat’s engine rumbled lowly, as if it was itching to unleash its barely hidden power. Each side of the aisle they cruised down was decorated with a wide variety of vehicles. Japanese tuners, muscle cars, European coupes, sport bikes, trucks. Some were plastered with intricate vinyl paint jobs. Others kept a more modest look in hopes of being slept on. Some were equipped with personalized body kits. Many of them had their hoods up to put their engines on display. Everyone was there to show their trophy vehicles to the world.

After a moment of searching, the eye-catching 458 found a place for the team to park. Once stopped, the door swung open and a pair of pricey sneakers stepped out and met the concrete ground below. Red hair that nearly matched his car swooped above electric yellow eyes. His lean but athletic 5’10 build was hidden under a custom white and red baseball jersey. On the front were the words “Ospreay Industries” and on the back was a bold #1 underneath the last name that matched the company. He took one glance at the gold watch around his wrist before looking out at the crowd that viewed him pull in. His ego swelled in his chest.

“That entrance never gets old. The West Coast All-Stars have arrived.” Dash Ospreay spoke with the same cocky demeanor he displayed over the radio. This was only exacerbated by the by the trio of girls he caught scanning him from the corner of his eye. The smug look on his face could probably be seen from space. His train of thought, however, came crashing down thanks to a deafening roar from the Hellcat’s V8 engine that it had been begging to let loose.

“Ugh, Auburn! Auburn!” Dash tried to yell over the motor but to little avail. The muscle car’s driver ceased the barrage of horsepower and stepped out amidst mischievous cackling. She stood a few inches shorter than Dash at 5’7 with long, wavy reddish-brown hair and crimson eyes. She took a moment to adjust her MMA-style fingerless gloves as she got out. A leather jacket sat over a black tube top that left her toned midriff exposed. A chain belt was wrapped around her waist over torn up jeans that went down to black boots. However, perhaps her most notable physical trait was the pair of fox ears on her head and matching tail that swayed behind her.

“What’s that? Can’t hear ya, Bubblegum,” the fox hybrid Auburn Vulpes said with a snickering grin. She held up a hand to her ear playfully and shook her head like she couldn’t hear him. Dash could only groan and roll his eyes in response. By this point, the NSX had taken its place on the other side of her. The door was open and its pilot was still inside, a silhouette illuminated by the several screens that had taken over the dashboard. The boy had black hair that stopped just short of a purple pair of headphones around his neck. His eyes were hidden due to the glare off of his glasses. As he halfway turned to address the fox hybrid, his hands remained stuffed in his hoodie pockets. He also revealed a heavily modified tablet strapped to his arm.

“Auburn, I go through a lot of effort trying to keep the police off of us. Pretty sure every cop from here to Australia heard that,” Solomon Roxos said. He did much better to hide any signs of annoyance compared to Dash.

“That’s the best compliment you could ever give me,” Auburn replied, her grin only growing. Solomon could only shake his head and stifle a tiny chuckle as he brought his attention back to his tech. But, it was quickly yanked away again as the last member of the All-Stars had snuck up from behind him.

“Oh c’mon Technomancer! You’ve got this all under control, so why not have a little fun now that we’re here?” The initial surprise caused Solomon to jump slightly, enough to knock his headphones off his neck, although he did catch them before they hit the ground. He’d never allow them to fall. Once recollected, he faced the girl, who was sporting a genuine gleaming smile back at him. Her long, straight hair was streaked with blue and black. Her skin tone was a beautiful caramel tone. Long legs brought her even an inch taller than Dash. She had on a short blue skirt, gray blouse, blue tie, and black knee high boots.

“Sapphire,” Solomon started but almost immediately trailed off, unable to his finish his thought. No one could really stay mad at Sapphire Hyacinth for long. 

“Whaaaat? It’s a party, isn’t it? Or at least it is now that we’re here,” she giggled. While Auburn folded her arms across her ample chest and nodded in agreement, Solomon seemed to be in no rush leaving his crew’s designated spot to mingle with the “partiers”. 

“Someone should let Royce know we’re here,” he said shyly in an attempt to dodge the subject.

“Right. I’ll go find her,” Dash volunteered.

“Wait, I’m coming too! I gotta see around this meet!” Sapphire said.

“Gonna hold me up while you get pics for your instagram?”

“Nooooooo.” Her smile grew after a moment like she couldn’t hide it any longer. “Ok maybe.” The redheaded leader wrapped an arm around her shoulders as they started their walk through the heart of the meet. Both of their eyes wandered around at the vibrant array of cars surrounding them. A sly smirk crept across Sapphire’s countenance the more she looked around. In a moment’s notice, she whipped out her phone and bolted away from Dash.

“Sapph!” he called out. But it was too late. She already had made her way toward a Honda Civic EK9. The owner obliged the black and blue haired influencer’s request, leaning against the front of their treasured car and allowing Sapphire to get a couple of quick shots. An exchange of compliments and pleasant small talk was cut short though as she looked over her shoulder to see Dash walking away to continue his mission.

“All-Star wait up!” she said. Dash tilted his head a little to hide the tiny smile he gave himself. It was Sapphire’s nickname for Dash that ended up lending to their team name in the first place. Sapphire jogged to catch up with him, her long legs making the stride easy.

“I’m trying to find Royce first. Get business done, then you’ll have plenty of time to play around,” Dash told her. And almost as if on cue, they sighted a black Nissan Silvia S13 with a masterfully painted livery. Every inch of the car, every little detail, seemed treated with precise care and passionate love. Purple stripes flanked a white one down the middle of the hood. A floral design overlaid with purple tribal markings shot down the side of the car toward a pinstripe ending on the trunk. Once they circled around, they could see that trunk was currently popped open with a girl leaning against it. She possessed green eyes and two-tone hair that split right down the middle, one half black and the other a silvery white. She wore a black sleeveless top with multicolored paint splatter decals on the chest under a bomber jacket, and leggings that hugged her legs all the way down to a pair of Converse on her feet.

“Heyyy Royce!” Sapphire greeted her before aiming her camera at her. Royce Fiala barely had time to smile back. She reached one hand down to rummage through the trunk. The sound of spray cans rattling as they’re being strewn around can be heard before she pulled out and put on a gas mask with purple LEDs around the filters. As she stood up and struck a more serious pose for the photographer, she revealed a skunk tail behind her. Sapphire took the picture, allowing the skunk hybrid to relax once again.

“Make sure you tag White Stripe,” she said.

“Always do. Gotta show my favorite paint booth some love,” Sapphire answered. Not only was Royce the organizer for LA’s racing scene, she was also an artist of many different mediums. Although usually her artwork came back down to her two favorites: cars and graffiti. After a nod of gratitude to Sapphire, she shifted to the uncharacteristically quiet Ospreay.

“What, the illustrious and acclaimed heir to Ospreay Industries has nothing to say?”

“I’m just here as always to remind you and everyone else why I wear this number 1 on my back. I’m here to lead the best team on your circuit and look damn good doing it. I’m not here for the likes and followers.” Royce wanted to argue him, but she couldn’t. The West Coast All-Stars had sat atop the scene’s leaderboards for months now. Sapphire stuck her tongue out at him, internally praying he wouldn’t press any further before a slight nudge from Royce interrupted her thought.

“Probably just deleted all his socials cause he got tired of seeing all the bad press of his family’s company on his feed,” Royce whispered to her just loud enough for Dash to hear. Sapphire kept her lips pursed shut, trying not to react in any way, even clasping a hand over her mouth to aid her. Dash stood there with arms crossed, attempting and failing to hide the fact that he was fuming.

“Sounds like someone’s just jealous I can afford gorgeous supercars with ease while you struggle to get your little paint booth off-”

“Dash, behave!” Sapphire snapped to quiet him. Both the other parties involved stirred a little. Especially Dash, whose startlement was easily read across his face.

“Just shut up and pay me,” Royce said. “Not like you can’t afford it.” Quietly, Dash pulled out a stack of bills and handed it to the artist with a bit more force than what was necessary. After a quick flip through to mentally count what she deemed was enough money, she barely glanced above the wad of cash, Royce once again glanced up confront Dash once more. “This better be race winnings and not daddy’s blood money.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. Besides, that ‘blood money’ does a lot to help you out. Keeps the cops off our trail and lets them buy something nice for their wives,” Dash reassured.

“Right. Had to remind me of the reason we keep you around,” Royce retorted. By this point, Sapphire had ceased sitting around awkwardly, mentally pleading for this to stop, and decided to take action by standing between the two of them. Royce took this as her cue to resume having a normal conversation as opposed to verbal jabs. “So, which one of you is racing tonight?”

“You already know, girl!” Sapphire giggled. “Dash promised this race to me tonight. I’ve been wanting something different besides the drift events. So I got the race setup in today, along with a new set of tires from Harley. Speaking of which, where are your girls?”

“Setting up the track. Should be done any minute now.”

“Who’s racing tonight?” Dash reentered the chat once again. “Who needs to know that if you’re coming for the kings-”. A swift yet subtle elbow to the side cut Dash off. Sapphire rolled her eyes and Dash took a second to correct himself. “And queens. You better not miss.”

“Jynx signed up in his Monte Carlo. Got a couple others I’m not too familiar with. One chick, I think her name was Victoria? And some new guy Kato. I don’t know, we’ll see how they do.” Sapphire nodded, taking her words in but clearly not showing much concern about them.  “You don’t seem too worried about it though,” Royce went on.

“Nope!” Sapphire said before Dash could have any chance to come back with another obnoxious comment. “Auburn and Sol are doing the final tuning right now. So that means-” She pivoted to once again inspect the legion of machines that lined the parking garage walls with a glimmer in her eye. “I can play.” She strut her way toward a different kind of inspiration for her socials, this one only coming with two wheels. A crimson Yamaha R6, with its driver leaned next to it, their face concealed under a matching helmet.

“May I?” Sapphire asked them with phone out. The biker quietly nodded and stood by the handlebars, allowing the custom painted fairings to be front and center. Then, they threw one leg up onto the bike and pointed a peace sign at the camera. “Oooooh a bit of sexy, a bit of feisty, I like it!” Sapphire said while nabbing a few photos. Meanwhile, Dash had returned back to his other two team members. Auburn was under the hood of the Focus doing some slight adjusting, while Solomon was in its driver seat tapping on his tablet screen. 

“Any update?” Dash asked, snatching Solomon away from his task. Over his shoulder was his laptop opened in the passenger seat. The monitor exhibited a series of data points graphed neatly onto tuning sheets.

“Just making sure the route’s finalized in her GPS and putting the last touches on- ,” 

“We’re set. She’s ready to go,” Auburn said definitively, both cutting Solomon off and finally acknowledging Dash before shutting the hood. After a moment to register, Solomon hastily unplugged his laptop and gathered his stuff to exit the car. There was never any shaking Auburn. If she said ready, then it was ready. By this point, Sapphire had finally rejoined the crew, scrolling through the large jackpot of pictures she had spent the night thus far scoring as she walked.

“So if I lose, I just blame the tune right?” she said.

“You even remotely think you’re gonna lose?” Auburn asked back. She got Sapphire’s trademark smile back. They both already knew the answer to that question. The duo shared a snicker and a fist bump before Sapphire climbed into her glossy blue chariot. The 4-cylinder engine fired to life and slowly started rolling its way out the garage. As she drove out, on each side of her, the majority of the crowd was filing out with her. Two cars were already lined up on the street: a red and black Mazda RX-8 and a yellow Volkswagen Mk4 Golf. In her mirrors, she can see the headlights of a black 1980s Chevrolet Monte Carlo. Grinning to herself, Sapphire stopped at the curb, allowing the muscle car to pull alongside her. The window of the Chevy rolled down to reveal a dark-skinned man with magenta eyes and dreads bundled into a ponytail looking back at her.

“Champion’s privilege, Jynx. I make my entrance last.” she told him.

“You know, I bet that girl Victoria if I can beat her Mazda, that I’m getting some from her tonight? I can make it a 2-for-1 special when I win if you want in,” Jynx said back with such confidence it would make the guys who hit on Sapphire at the club think that was a bit much. “Get you to stop playing with Richie RIch’s toys and show you a real smooth ride.”

“That’s your best shot at flirting?” Sapphire scoffed playfully and rolled her eyes. “By the way, some girls prefer it rough.” The sneer now knocked off of us his face, she let the Monte Carlo take its place on the grid before she did the same. Two onlookers equipped with spray cans provided by Royce painted a makeshift start/finish line just before the four lined up front bumpers.

“You got this, Sapph!” Sapphire’s attention darted to her left to see Auburn cheering her on loud enough to be heard through the window. The rest of her squad was on the sidewalk with a front row seat for the start of the action.

“Make the All-Stars proud,” Dash continued. She nodded and took a deep breath. All of her energy refocused to what was in front of the windshield. Royce, decorated with her gas mask once more, took her place in between the two middle cars. She momentarily crouched down and motioned for Kato’s Golf to creep forward a few inches. Once she deemed it satisfactory, she held up her hand and stood back up. One by one, she pointed to each of the combatants, and when each of them responded affirmatively, it was decided.

“Ready.”

Sapphire gripped her steering wheel just a little bit tighter. A couple of steps on the gas pedal to rev the engine. The other engines also grew louder, especially Jynx’s.

“Set.”

Each second that ticked by felt ten times longer. Each car inched forward, begging to be free from their neutral gear bondage. Two steps forward from Royce. Then, both hands raised up. They seemed to be there for what felt like eternity. So long the drivers were amazed she could hold them up for so long, despite it only being a few seconds in real world time. Then, the explosion. Her hands dropped.

“Go!”

A symphonious cacophony of hundreds of horsepower filled the air to the brim. Tires squealing for grip. Engines hitting high revs before their drivers start shifting through the low gears. The eruption of applause from the now deafened crowd. It all came together in a uniquely beautiful noise, one Royce reveled in as the four race warriors roared past her, leaving her in a slight layer of tire smoke.

“Here they come!” she yelled into a radio as she spun around to watch them go. From the crowd’s point of view, it appeared the Monte Carlo used the most of its power and got the best jump, giving Jynx a slight edge off the line. Sapphire was trying to hold serve on driver side left as she had the inside line for the first corner, a 90 degree left hander onto Rosegold Street. Victoria’s RX-8 on the other side of the lineup was not too far off of Sapphire’s Focus, and the Golf slotted into 4th after a little laggy start.

“Damn that never gets old!” Auburn laughed. Dash nodded in agreement, a childlike smile plastered across his face as well. He had already taken his place of watching Sapphire via the onboard feed transmitting to Solomon’s tablet. As Royce walked off the street and Auburn began watching over the tech expert’s other shoulder, however, everyone’s attention was violently brought back to the road at an unfamiliar sound. An approaching 5 liter V8 Coyote engine. A blue Ford Mustang barreled toward the mass of spectators then blurred past them, hurdling in pursuit of the race.

“Who’s that??” Dash barked with arms outstretched in a mixture of confusion and frustration. Everyone mirrored his uncertainty. Only one thing could be certain though. Whoever this new challenger was, the other racers better be prepared.

[theonetheycallsagey]

Forge Your Path

I’m really excited, but at the same time very nervous about this one for three reasons. One, I’m not used to writing in a first person POV. Two, it’s more fairy tale-ish than what I’m used to writing. And three, it’s introducing with a new team! But anyways, here’s the story of Harley Onyx, and the beginnings of Team RGHL!

I grew up outside kingdom walls. Not in Menagerie either, I'm not a faunus, even though my dad always said I had the drive of a ram. I lived south of Vale in a small village that most people don't even know exists. Some tell about it through stories, but not many actually believe it. It just didn't make sense. Many had tried before to expand this far away from the safety of Vale, but they all failed, even Mountain Glenn. So, what would keep some shabby group from falling to the Grimm like the rest of them?

Well, there's a reason why my village is called The Forge.

See, we weren't the first to try and live out here. When they tried to extend past the mountains, the miners came first, all with ambitions to make it big and find the first dust reserves in the "new world." But, an accident involving a huge pocket of fire dust ended up killing any hopes of being the next Schnee. When the wave of families looking to settle came next, what they came upon was truly an astonishing sight. A flame that could never be extinguished, raging uncontrollably from right beyond the heart of the mountain chain.

But, rather than move away and start somewhere else, the wanderers used the fire as the ultimate fuel. Being a group of experienced craftsmen and blacksmiths, they saw this as the perfect opportunity to play to their strengths and carve out a new beginning. They took whatever metal they had with them for supplies and built around the fire. After countless days of slaving over the fire, bending and warping metal, they had eventually housed it and turned it into one big forge. This served as a central hub for a village grow around, and when they found vast ore deposits in the mountains, the forge itself began to grow as well. It eventually evolved into a large workshop, with the men of the village constantly working in it.

Now, they knew that no matter what they accomplished, it wouldn't mean anything if the Grimm attacked. They needed to have some sort of defense against the creatures of darkness. So, they put their skills to good use and crafted some of the finest weapons made by human hands. These had an attention to detail that the factories in the kingdoms couldn't even compare to. Each one was specifically made for its wielder, a bond built through heat and hearth.

Sounds like a fairy tale, huh? Yeah, I heard Remnant has a knack for stuff like that. But it's true. I should know. I lived there.

You wouldn't be able to tell though. I was always interested in modern life inside the kingdoms, especially Vale. I dressed differently than the other kids in the village. I talked differently. I acted differently. I always saw pictures of the cars that ran through the downtown areas and thought they were amazing. I asked my dad how cool it would be if I ever got the chance to work on those. He would just smile and shake his head at me. But, for as much as I thought about life somewhere else, my heart always belonged to The Forge.

I've always been a mischievous little firecracker, and my parents quickly realized that there was only one place that could tame me: the workshop. It was like a playground for me when I was a kid. I would constantly be rummaging through my father's toolboxes like it was a toy chest. While he would be busy maintaining the machines that controlled the flame as Chief Blacksmith, I would be building whatever contraptions my imagination could come up with. I moved to the rhythm of the Forge, a constant beat of hammers meeting metal. It meant hard work was in the air. I felt like I was a part of that, and it was a part of me.

But, just because we were able to defend from the Grimm, it didn’t stop them from coming to tear us apart. I remember one attack when I was about 11 years old, when it seemed like the Grimm came in 3 times the numbers they usually do. My father stood guard at the gates of the workshop, protecting the families who couldn't fight for themselves, myself and my mother included. It was honestly pretty calm from inside, until a rumble came from what sounded like mere feet from beyond the door. Suddenly, a harsh impact buckled the door, and another blew it off the hinges completely, giving way for a Beowolf to creep in.

"Mom? Where's Dad?" I asked my mother with a wavering voice, but all she could do was hold me tight. I looked around, and everyone was matching my fear and uncertainty. These people don't deserve this fate. No one does.

Against my mom's wishes, I broke free from her grasp and made my way through the crowd. I didn't know where I was going or what I was going to do, but I knew I had to do something! I reached into one of the drawers that the crowd shuffled me toward and grabbed a black gem, one of many found during supply hunting. My terrified orange eyes shined through its dark color, almost blending into the illuminating flame. I turned to see the Grimm closing in on a frightened family. I saw my family in their place. Acting on pure adrenaline at this point, I threw the gem at the Beowolf's head.

Its attention drew to me as the gem bounced between its eyes. It bellowed a menacing roar. I think my mom yelled my name, but I couldn't remember. None of my senses were working. Suddenly, the beast charged forward. I closed my eyes.

The only thing I had braced for was hearing a thud as the Beowolf collapsed with a bullet in the back of the head. On the other side of it was my father, shotgun in one hand with his other covered in blood over a gaping wound. He didn't say a word. He just staggered to me and held me until it seemed like all the commotion outside had stopped. The Grimm had done their damage, but we survived. That was clear, because that night, the never-ending rhythm of the forge continued, business as usual.

That night, I caught up with my father after my mother bandaged him up. It was weird seeing him in bed listening to the beat instead of taking part in it. I didn't know what to say at first. All I could do was hug him before finally choking out of an apology for acting so stupidly. But, he met me with a soft smile.

"Hush, sweetheart. You saved lives today. I'm so proud of you," he said. He looked off into the distance and breathed a heavy sigh. "I didn't think this day would come this quickly."

"Huh? What do you mean, Dad?" I said.

"You will leave me and your mother one day. You will leave the Forge." I couldn't believe what he just said. I was so loyal to my home and the people I had grown up with that I took leaving as an insult. That was, until he continued on.

"You will share your bravery with the world."

I had no idea what that meant at first. But, my friends heard about what I did against the Beowolf that day, and they started telling me stories. Ones about these people called huntsmen and huntresses, and how they go around Remnant protecting people who can't protect themselves against the Grimm. I was honestly amazed that people like this existed. They sounded incredible.

The thought of becoming a huntress persisted in the back of mind for years, but I was always scared of leaving home. This small pocket of land no one knew existed was all I knew. But, this small pocket of land no one knew existed was all that knew of me, and I wanted to see the world and change that. So, when I became old enough, I told my dad my intentions of becoming a huntress.

He heard the ambition in my voice and saw the excitement in my eyes and could only respond with a solemn nod and that smile he'd always give me. He led me into the workshop, and after digging through tools, he grabbed his trusted wrench. It was used on the machinery that maintained the fire, and it was large enough to where it could fit over one's shoulders and usually required first-time wielders two hands to hold.

But, this one looked different. The edges were sharper. It felt lighter in my hands. The other end look more fashioned to grip like a handle. Then it hit me. My father fashioned his favorite wrench to be my first huntress weapon. It was an axe!

I was astounded when I held it in my hands the first time. I gave it a haphazard swing before my father swiftly intervened. He then clicked a button on it, and suddenly the wrench transformed. In my hands was now a lever-action shotgun, with the ram horns symbolizing The Forge brandished on the side of it. I glanced up at my father, and I saw the same look in his eyes that I saw that night after the attack, one that carried as close to tears as someone as hardened as my dad could be. I could barely muster out a thank you as I hugged him before he left me to fiddle with my new toy.

The next day, after my last home cooked meal, I told my mom goodbye. It was hard turning back and seeing her cry as my dad and I walked off towards the mountains. It took us several hours to hike to the nearest place where a ship could pick me up, and we spent the whole time sharing stories that we had never told each other before. We spent that night in a lodge, and then a ship came early next morning to bring me into Vale.

I looked my dad in the eyes, and for the first and only time in my life I noticed a tear fall down his face. I gave him one last hug and vowed to make him proud and tell him about all the places I've seen the next time I come home to visit. Then, with my weapon on my back, I climbed onto the ship, and it took me to places I had never imagined seeing. I spent the whole trip with eyes glued to the window. The views were breathtaking all the way to Beacon, and seeing the campus was like a whole another world to me.

I stepped off and took my first steps outside of my village, alongside hundreds of other prospective huntsmen and huntresses with the same goals as me. This was going to be my home? Look at all the people. There's no way I can do this. I froze in my place, half terrified and half stunned at the beauty and enormity of it all. Part of me wanted to just turn around and go home, but my feet subconsciously kept moving forward. To the beat of hammers meeting metal.

Harley turned to the three girls she called teammates and all of them were too astounded to speak. Each of them were clad in their pajamas, and they had gathered around to tell stories in what Harley was quick to call a slumber party.

"Harley," Lotus said, finally speaking up after several moments of silence. "That can't be true. Are you just messing with us?"

"No, there's no way," team leader Royce said, her skunk tail wagging slightly. "She can't be making this up. It's too crazy. No one would think of this." Harley nodded and gave Royce a playful nudge.

"I'm no liar, Royce. You know that," she responded with a giggle. "So, who's next?" The fourth girl in the room, one with frost blue hair tied into a ponytail and a metal headband reminiscent of a medieval knight's headwear, spoke up, a hint of a British accent traceable in her voice.

"I suppose I'll go next."