S H I F T - O//A

[ShiftingEdge]

S H I F T
A Racing/Crime RP

Created by 4LDangerRanger
Images from Google
Semi-Literate
Profiles | OoC

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Table of Contents

Story
Roles
Profiles
Rules
Racing
Race Results
Info

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Story

It's been fifteen years since Aislin last sped away from the final scene in Texas with a warning never to return and a promise that her identify would be safe. The young woman found it hard at first, but in time was able to leave the underground and street racing scene behind. She started a family, opened a small garage, and was living the life of your average middle class worker. All was well until a 2014 Dodge Challenger rolled into the lot one day. Aislin knew right away that the car was bugged and that the man dressed in a black suit who was stepping out of the driver's door had nothing but bad news.

Information had been leaked and stollen. It seemed that all of the effort in the past to keep everything locked up after the CIA had stepped in last time only lasted so long. They needed help again. The agents were met with nothing but a door, slamming in their face upon finishing their story. Aislin would have no part. But two eager and younger racers had caught the conversation and were willing to take on the challenge.

The target is a group known as Origo, stating that they are the original and only crime faction worth mention. They are beyond drugs and guns. This group deals heavily in human trafficking, hacking on an international level, and more. The CIA has tried to infiltrate the group, but have lost too many agents. They need individuals who know the game, have backgrounds that aren't spotless, and can gain the trust of Origo's inner circle. To do so, they've posed as a rival faction called LA, not giving any detail as to just what LA stands for. They've also brought on six men and women to fill the group who have alredy been profiled, interviewed, and briefed. Win the races, find the merchandise, set up the arests, and get out alive.

And they're going in tonight.

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Roles

LA Roles:
Leader: 4LDangerRanger
Second in Command: Dhaunolil Auvryndar
Mechanic: FrankPanda
Racer: Specializes in Drag Racing Open
Racer: TexicanCookie
Racer: KatieRose
Racer: Specializes in Rally/Off Road Open
Organizer: .Noir.

Origo Roles
Leader: 4LDangerRanger
Second in Command: TexicanCookie
Mechanic: Open
Racer: Dhaunolil Auvryndar
Racer: Specializes in Dift Racing Open
Racer: Specializes in Road Courses Open
Racer: Specializes in Rally/Off Road Open
Organizer: Kimidoll07
*If you want to play another role, run it by me in a PM.

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Profiles

Please send me a reserve first, especially if you aren't sure you'll be able to get your profile in right away. I will hold reserves for 24 hours. If you do not send me a profile after that, the slot re-opens.

Please use real images, no anime/art/etc.

[align=center][img]100X100 URL PIC HERE[/img]
[size=11][color=white]x[/color][color=COLOR1]✔[/color] Full Name
[color=white]x[/color][color=COLOR1]✔[/color] Age (Between 21 and 35)
[color=white]x[/color][color=COLOR2]✔[/color] Gender
[color=white]x[/color][color=COLOR1]✔[/color] Vehicle Year, Make, and Model
[color=white]x[/color][color=COLOR2]✔[/color] Faction Name
[color=white]x[/color][color=COLOR1]✔[/color] Username
[/size][/align]

The profile skeleton for both groups is the same and can be found below:

[size=11][color=COLOR1]✔[/color] Full Name
[color=COLOR1]✔[/color] Nickname
[color=COLOR1]✔[/color] Age (Between 21 and 35)
[color=COLOR1]✔[/color] Gender
[color=COLOR1]✔[/color] Vehicle (Link to the image here)
[color=COLOR1]✔[/color] Role
[color=COLOR1]✔[/color] Faction
[color=COLOR1]✔[/color] Image (Link it here)

[color=COLOR1][b]Biography[b][/color] Tell us about your character's past, how they got into racing, how they got into trouble, and why they're here today.

[color=COLOR1][b]Personality[b][/color] Give us more than just traits. What makes your character who they are?

[color=COLOR1]✔[/color] Username

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Rules

01. Follow the Gaia ToS.
02. If you have a problem or a question, ask me. Whether it's in the OoC or in a PM, let me know.
03. Please, please be active. I understand everyone has work, school, a family, etc. But, if you're holding up the plot or others, it's no beuno. If you're going to be away, tell me as soon as you know.
04. I will remove profiles that are inactive. you will become inactive by not posting for one week.
05. No supercars. You can't have a Ferrari Enzo, your Mustang can't have 1000bhp, etc. I know this is fiction, but I'd like some realism here.
06. Vehicles can be stock or modified, but again keep modifications realistic.
07. PM all Reserves and Profiles to me. Title them both Manual with [R] for Reserve and [P] for profile in the subject line.
08. I have the right to add rules as needed. I will add them in red font.

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Racing

There will be six main races over the course of the RP. Each of these will be done in three posts per person and with dice rolls.
Each person will post three times describing the race as they go. For example, in the first post the cars leave the line and the race begins. In the second post most of the race is happening. Things can go wrong here. Missed turns, mechanical failures, etc. The third post is the end, You cross the finish line and hopefully are in one piece. Each post you will role one ten-sided die. The person whose total is closest to 30 wins that race.

Sometimes the races will be one on one, two on two, or both teams all at once. This will change throughout the RP.

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Race Results

Race One:
Race Two:
Race Three:
Race Four:
Race Five:
Race Six:

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Info

Anything you need to know including plot updates will be listed here.

01. Current location is Austin Texas. It's late spring, and the weather is warming towards summer hights.

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OPEN

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Rinnoa Fairfield
Leader of the LA Team

xxxRinnoa sat on the front fender of her 01' Bullitt Mustang with a framed picture in her hand. There were two photos in the frame. The top one pictured her boss Aislin with an old Ford Escort that had come from Europe. The one on the bottom showed a red headed woman sticking her tongue out at the camera while pulling down her eyelid. Some random crazy woman? Rinnoa would never know for sure. But what she did know is that somehow these two images connected her boss to the whole mess that she and the others of the LA team were about to dive head first into.

xxxLifting off the fender, Rinnoa places the picture back onto a small make shift shelf in the garage where it always sat. For now the room was quiet. Everyone was set to meet in the garage at 3:00 to meet with the CIA agent who would give everyone the final details. They would be racing and trying to infiltrate the Origo group within a few days. Rinnoa had questions, but for now she was content in taking in the scene of the garage. It was nice. The floor was epoxy coated grey with flecks of black and blue. The walls were finished, decorated with old racing posters, pictures, awards, and certificates that the mechanics had earned over the years. There was a small bar with six stools, a fridge, and a small sink in the far corner. All wrapped together in a climate controlled room large enough for four cars side by side.

xxxThe wall clock made little noise as the minute hand lined up with the 9. It was 2:45 now, and everyone was sure to be showing up soon.

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Aiden Varelli II
Leader of Origo

xxxIt was mid afternoon, the sun was warm, the pool water was cool, and the view was spectacular. Aiden lazily rolled his head to the side, admiring the woman in the pool beside him. He didn't know her name and he probably would never see her again after that night, but it really wasn't a great loss. Fake tits though. When were they going to learn? Drawing his arms from the water, Aiden lazily rested them around the shoulder of the woman beside him, watching droplets of water roll down her neck and shoulder from behind dark shades. This was the life.

xxx"I'm sorry to ruin the moment, brother." The voice was both sweeet and cunning at the same time. It could only belong to one person, Isabella, his sister. Aiden nodding his head forward so that his glasses would slip just far enough down his nose to view his sister. She was looking fine today, not that he was the kind of creep to sexualize his own sister. No, he was just a normal creep.
xxx"Never. You only bring me good news, Isabella." Aiden replied as he watched his sister come to a stop behind him on the pool deck.
xxx"The rival group has accepted the offer. We're in for six races, and the team is going to arrive within an hour. I'll bring them up to speed, and we'll go from there." Isabella said before leaning down to kiss her brother's cheek. "Ciao fratello." And with that she was off.
xxxAiden took a moment to stretch before pushing his shades back up his nose. "Seems our day has been cut short. See yourself out."

xxxTwenty minutes later Aiden was dressed and lounging in thought in the conference room. A glass of scotch aided his thoughts, or so he liked to say. There he would remain until his crew arrived to be briefed. Then it would be a walk in the park, and complete control of the black market of southwest united states would be his. Perhaps even more.

[TexicanCookie]

((Will pretty up later))

"Y Volver...volver...voooooollllvveeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeer, a tuuus braaazos otra veeeeez!" Santos voice wasn't even that out of tone. Of course it wasn't, singing and dancing were in his blood, but not as much as his ride.

What you'd think would be hip-hop or pop or rock coming out of the GTO car was instead a slew of Vicente Fernandez and different Mexican Regional, and much like the stereotype went, it was goddamned loud.

The black GTO pulled into the garage, parking meticulously off to the side. From it, the legendary troublemaker from west Tejas emerged, Santos Javier Arango pulled up, making sure not to slam his door too hard. He looked down at his hand, a little address scribbled on the palm and he could almost hear his mother:

"No te andes rayando! Que queires ser un malandrin marihuano bueno para nada?" Yes. Mom, because anyone that had a tattoo, was clearly a junkie or a criminal. Oh, he was dreading going back home for his Mom to find the tat on his arm. Oh he was sure that'd be fun. One slipper flying towards him, the other already in her hand as she'd pelt him with it various times, and though it did not hurt because he had grown some muscle, it'd be painful to hear her sob about how her child was now a criminal or at least listening to her lecture would make him cringe.

Santos pushed the thoughts out of his mind with a roll of his eyes, and knocked on the garage door with his knuckle, he awaited for anyone to show up. Whether it'd be los Federales, or anyone else, he wasn't sure. What he was sure, was that if he didn't show up, he'd be thrown in jail for a very...very...very....long time.

[.N.o.i.r.]

San Francisco:
30 hours ago

"Your roots are showing through" a voice piped up from the door to his apartment. "I'll see to it tonight" Ira retorted as he finished packing a small duffel bag and slung it over his shoulder. "we good to go then?" he asked as he looked back to the partner who nodded and spun the car keys on his finger "Fantastic" he smiled as he crossed the room at pace and planting a big wet one on the man's cheek made his way down the apartment stairs and sat the bag back down at the tail end of the 2002 Nissan Altima. "this is foolish" the man Ira had just kissed said still standing where he had been shouting after the man dressed in a black t-shirt and waistcoat. "Why don't you just leave this one you do this and the feds are going to be all over your a**" Ira shrugged and held out his hands for the keys which were intentionally thrown short. "Breaking into a hotel room used by the company is a one way trip to supermax" the other man announced as Ira tossed his bag into a fully loaded trunk and slammed the lid. "It's the only way" he called back as he slipped into the car starting the engine.


Twenty minutes later

The pick scraped the last pin into place as the lock on the hotel door clicked. Slowly Ira pushed it open and slipped inside. Shutting the door quietly behind himself Ira set to work. He set to work quickly, the usual hiding places would never be enough for what he was after and set about searching the room for improvised hiding places, on his rounds he found three pistols several sets of zip ties and a key card, pocketing the key card he stowed the weapons in his bag and continued. Unable to find what he was after he opened up the bag once more and pulling out a small plastic box made his way to the computer desk and turning the keyboard over quickly removed the back and with a couple of clips attached a key logger. Two more bugs and he was done.

Voices in the corridor approaching and stopping outside the room, biting his lower lip Ira grabbed the dresser and shoved it against the bedroom door and began pulling out draws and the likes tipping over chairs to make it look like a ransacking as opposed to a sneak and peek. Pushing the sliding balcony door open Ira grabbed the king size mattress off the bed and tossed it over the railing and into the pool below following it himself kicking his feet up as he jumped landing in the shallow water on the mattress on his back. It wasn't far to his car from the pool just over the wall, landing on top of the Altima he slipped down and stopped he had a passenger. The owner of the field office he had just ransacked. "you are as good as they say then" Ira shrugged and walked around the car and into the driver seat. "I have no idea what you're talking about if you could excuse me I'm a little wet"
"You'll dry off in texas"
Ira raised his head a little. "And why would I go to texas"
"Consider it a trial run, you do this a little slip up may get overlooked were your file to ever cross certain people's desks again" Ira grunted. "I'll take that as a yes then shall I?" The dirty peroxide blonde nodded "Good, I'll leave these here with you, standard package, brief, a rundown of who you'll be working with all good at what they do but none of them agency, you'll be posing as a street racing team your job is to take down a gang called Origo, have fun playing babysitter" The agent climbed out the passenger seat of the Altima and shut the door leaving the dossier on the seat. Starting the engine Ira was signalled to wind his window down "One last thing, just so you're aware, if you don't do this or you ******** it up you won't be on permanent suspension we will burn you" Ira glared at the operative "You wouldn't" he hissed as Ira moved to climb out the car, "I would, in fact I think I will, it looks more convincing if you are and you're running around with a crew of street thugs" Ira's fist balled and made contact with the face of the man threatening him as he reached for his phone, "Yeah, I found him, turns out he was working with the Cajun, burn him" The words reached Ira's ears and he turned launching himself at the other operative tackling him to the ground fist after fish raining down on his face until it was little more than a messy pulp. The operative spat some blood to one side, "Everything you need it already at your apartment, You don't go we do worse" He pushed himself up and set off gripping his ribs and hobbling away a trail of blood left behind him.

Climbing back into the car Ira started the engine and set off back to the apartment. The Op had been right, a rather generous delivery had been dropped off for him, a few weapons a case of plastique, tools added to his packed up apartment which was very little as it was and on the breakfast bar a silver briefcase containing $100 bills packed out and labelled expenses with an apple on top. grabbing the apple Ira pulled a small curved knife from the under side of his belt and sliced a portion off and took a bite.


It took him a good forty minutes to load the piece of s**t Altima and shoving the cash on the passenger seat pulled out from the complex car park and set off south.



San Fran - LA - Phoenix - Tucson - Las Cruces - El Paso - Fort Stockton - Austin.
Total Drive time: 28 hours including stops.

He pulled up in front of the garage, his radio had stopped working some where just past Tucson and he ad resorted to buying a portable, something that would be found in a kitchen or a garage, it was currently tuned to the local rock radio and playing Social Distortions Ring of Fire. Killing the engine he forgot to wind up the windows not that the radio was stupidly loud. Behind him a black sedan rolled on past, visual confirmation that Ira had arrived at the garage instead of getting some poor schmuck to deliver the bug they had planted in the money and skipped town. Stepping out the car he pulled on a large pair of black sunglasses and made his way towards the man knocking on the Garage door. "Tu eras Santos? Ira es mi nombre." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a key tossing it to the man. "Estoy aquí para ayudar"

[TexicanCookie]

There was no reply, there was nobody showing up at the door. Made Santos do a double take on the numbers scribbled on his palm and then at the number up on the garage. It was the correct number so que chingados was wrong?

There was another car announcing itself. An Altima, could of been the garage owner, or just someone coming to drop off their POS sedan.

Chavi turned on his heel, his eyes attracted by the music coming from the car, and there was some rough looking guero. His lips turned upwards slightly, and again he could hear his mother's voice.

Que clase de musica es esa? Esa es musica de locos! Estas loco? Deja te doy unos buenos a ver si se te endereza el cerebro! She had said that when he brought home a Misfits CD one time.So the next day he bought a Molotov Album that covered the same song, same lyrics, but in spanish and with a Norteno beat. And she liked it. What.

El Guero was coming over to Santos now. Santos leered at him trying to decide if he was supposed to trust him or if he was just there for something else.

The guy smelled as rough as he looked. Sweat, and coffee, and his eyes looked somewhat lacking of sleep.

He was a little surprised when the guy spoke spanish and didn't sound like an awkward college spanish student, but rather like someone who knew what he was saying.

"Sip, ese so you, el mero mero Santos Javier Arango pa' ayudarle," He caught the key in his hand and looked at it with just as much suspicious. Now that the guerito was closer he noticed the blood on his otherwise nice-ish clothes. Well nicer than his tee and jeans. The man at least seemed to have a sense of style. "y usted quien es Ira? A que viene ayudar? Es parte del...." He lifted his fingers and did quotations. "el equipo? O usted esta con los federales cabrones?"


((OOC: Translations/approximations: 1) Que Chingados=What the ******** 2) Guero=Blondie/Person with blonde hair/Person with light complexion/person with blue/blonde hair both or just one. 3) Santos' mom saying in Italics=What kind of music is that? that's crazy people music. Are you crazy? Let me give you a couple good ones see if I can straighten out your brain.
4) Yes, the very very same Santos Javier Arango at your service. And who are you Ira? What are you here to help with? Are you part of the team or are you with those ******** Feds?))