West Coast Speed

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Zac

[REDACTED]
Original poster
FOLKLORE MEMBER
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Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
Genres
Fantacy, Scifi, Modern, Magical, Horror, Romance, Furry, Military, Zombie, Apocalypse, Post-Apoc, Action, Racing, Cars, Technology, Alt Universe.
Paul let out a long, low groan, his hand reaching over and slapping the snooze button on his alarm, he rolled off of his stomach, facing belly up and fumbling his hand around the alarm, pulling it off the nightstand that sat to the left of his bed, letting out a yawn, his sleepy half-lidded eyes looking at the time that read 6:00 A.M. "Time to get up." He muttered, swinging his legs out of bed and sitting up. Paul ran his fingers through his ruffled hair, a usual routine to make an internal decision of whether or not he could skip having to comb out his hair. To his luck he wasn't as lucky which was no surprise. Pushing himself out of bed and onto his feet, he made his way out of the room and flipped on the bathroom light, closing and locking the door. Paul stripped off his boxers and stretched out his long arms, a groan of relief broiling in his chest, his limbs having a good loose feeling after his stretch, he got the shower started and continued with his normal routine.

Once he was dressed and smelled fresh of Old Spice he approached the key rack in his kitchen "Hmm.... I'm feeling.... Let's go sideways." He pondered to himself, grabbing the keys to his 240sx, his first car, and surprisingly his favorite, the other car's at his disposal were much more elite when it came to performance, but for some odd reason Paul couldn't stop driving his first. Once making his way to the garage he pressed the remote control and the car's lights flashed, the locks unlocking and allowing him to pop open the door, slipping into the seat and buckling in, he pressed the last buckle into the five point camel lock racing harness. Plugging his phone into the aux cord and tapping onto a play list, the two fourteen inch subs in the back vibrating the car with the loud bass from the song. Pushing in the clutch and turning the key the car came to life, the low hum from the exhaust followed by a full blown scream as the tires pushed smoke onto the street once thrown into first gear and headed for the garage.

Paul came down the last turn completely sideways, the speakers blaring and the car screaming as the tires kicked up a cloud of thick white smoke, the turn nice and long to allow the ninety mile per our car to be sideways nice and long, once out of the bend Paul pushed in the clutch and punched into fourth, his feet and hands working at lightening speed to push the car's tires to catch traction, the next hairpin turn was usually one he didn't throw the car around on, but this time he pulled the hand brake up and dumped the clutch pushing the car around the corner completely sideways, the speedometer reading one hundred before he let out of the pedal and down shifted, the car fish tailing before he pulled into the parking lot where the large garage stood in the lot.

Paul pushed open the door to the garage, seeing the 2015 Nissan GT-R he had just purchased, Paul flipped on the lights and when he looked to his right, he stopped in thought, staring at the car that was what seemed to haunt him every day when making his way into the garage. His Dad's 1970 Dodge Charger R/T. Paul hadn't touched it since the day his father passed away. It was a project his Dad had always promised to finish with him, the frame had no fenders, only doors and roof, and glass, the picture of his dad rested on the stripped dash. Paul couldn't help but let a shaky breath leave his lips before he pushed himself to make his way to the brand new car.
 
Meanwhile, Giselle had already gotten up, as she normally awakens early in order to hone her skills in Martial Arts, as it is her way of achieving Zen and Peace. Its been two years since she's graduated High School, but she has since been focusing on Racing. While she almost never raced for pink slips, mainly because she loves the Skyline that her Father had given her. Although seemingly tough due to her physique and capability in Martial Arts, Giselle was actually timid and soft-hearted, very sensitive as well. Even then, she wasn't exactly afraid of giving someone a beating. However, her Skyline was the one that did most of the talking. Within the past two years, she has put at least $100,000 into the Car, 75% of which went into Premium Engine parts while the other 40% went into other Upgrades, such as a decked out interior, vinyl decal amongst others. Although young, Giselle was very known within the Street Racing World for her skill in Drift Racing, which has earned her the name 'Drift Queen', or DQ. Could she match up with the Drift Racers up in Tokyo? Maybe... But even she doesn't know if she is that good, because the Nissan Skyline isn't exactly the best choice for drifting. Giselle was also thinking about purchasing another car, namely a 2010 Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution X, but was still looking to put a bit more into her Skyline.

After she was done training, Giselle headed over to the Garage and began examining her Car, as she did so, Paul pulled into the Garage with his brand new 2015 Nissan GT-R. However, could it beat her Skyline?
 
Paul sighed and climbed into the GT-R, it sat all weekend in the garage, it's parts being awaited, and scheduled to arrive today. He pushed in the clutch and the push to start ignition, the car humming to life, he pushed the gear into reverse and let it sit on the car lift, just in the right areas, not even having to look twice. Once shutting off the car, he popped open the door and closed it behind him, pressing the lift button to bring the car in the air. "I hate to do this to ya beautiful." He spoke to the car before he let off the lift button. "Need to be torn down. I'll be gentle." He continued as he rolled over his table of tools and started to drop the transmission, over the next four hours he had finally dropped the entire suspension, as well as the transmission, front and rear end, and had them all wrapped up and ready to be sold "Easiest money in the world." He said to himself."

Once the delivery truck came, the big burly men started carrying in loads of parts. "Ok... And that will be... Hundred and seventy five grand." The man said holding out the device for Paul to sign, which he did as well as his fingerprint "And you guys know who to ask if you need someone to kick ass in Tokyo." He said pointing his head to Giselle "As long as the flight is paid. She'll get rid of that mob. But she doesn't go without me." "Right. We'll tell Mr. Xion." He said tipping his hat and making his way out. Paul turned around and looked at all the parts. A brand new turbo system, a large turbo to be exact, intercooler, speed clutch, and the most intricate adjustable suspension and transmission to cross his finger tips. Sadly. Installing would take much longer.

Paul dumped his money into every car he bought. And it was somewhat a down fall, he could buy a nice house, could not live in a duplex, could actually settle down... But for him it was ride or die... And he was going to ride until the second option was brought to him without a choice.
 
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Giselle looked over when she heard Paul talking about her. Really, she wasn't looking to go down to Tokyo to smoke the Racers down there, she was just wondering if she had the skill to match up to them, being very well aware of the fact that they do have a 'Drift King' down there. Street Racing itself was big in Japan and didn't really have to worry about the Police as much as they would in the States. What Giselle also took note on was how Paul was investing money into Multiple Cars, something she herself didn't do. Besides Food, Housing, and supporting her Retired Parents, Giselle dumped most of her Money into her Skyline, which has been her pride and joy for the past two years. When she saw him upgrading his new GT-R, she wondered if it could match up to her Skyline, which she's kept well maintained. She also wasn't really one for talking either. If she really wanted, she could race for pink slips, but that wasn't something she was willing to do. In total, she invested around $150,000 into the Skyline, of which 100,000 was under the hood, because what was the point of having a nice looking car if it ran like a piece of shit? Because she would much rather have her Skyline look like a total piece of shit and have an amazing Engine rather then having it look brand new and having a terrible engine.

Racing was her life. When it came to Drag Racing, she was pretty sure that she was second behind Paul, but she was unmatched and unparalleled when it came to drifting. At least her parents supported her in her endeavor, because not very many people would. If she really wanted, she could drop Street Racing and go make it big in the Mixed Martial Arts world, but hasn't.
 
Paul looked over to Giselle "You are eyeing this car like you're sizing up for a fight." He stated the car now being lowered to the floor somewhat, the frame just above the floor, he had already dismounted the engine mounts and got all of the engine stripped away so it could be worked on, once he brought the lift over he attached it to the ring that he mounted to the side of the engine and started to crank it up until he finally let the engine back down onto the rack that held it so it could be worked on from all angles. Paul started to unbox all of the parts, new pistons, new heads, new clutch, everything in the engine was being replaced. Once Paul had the entire engine stripped down he started to fine tune the entire engine, when it came to the last nano-meter he tried his best to be a perfectionist when tuning the car he wished to race. He finally was able to get all of his calculations done, switching between working on the suspension of the car, the exhaust kit, all and all he was able to rotate around to get a good amount of the car done before he was wheeling the engine into the dyno room "Come on. Let's see how much we can push." he said waving her over, now hooking up the brand new completely aftermarket engine to the dyno.

Paul awaited Giselle "You know... When you wanted to put that skyline into a rear wheel so you could drift it, I thought that if you dumped the power out of the all wheel and pushed it in the back you would be torquing your suspension. Have you been looking at that when you throw it around corner's? You know that wishbone can only push so much power through it."
 
"Rear-Wheel Drive is the best for Drifting. Unless you're a boss, then you can't really drift with Front-Wheel Drive. All-Wheel Drive is debatable though." She replied when he pointed out at what she did to her Skyline. There were plenty of Upgrades that she was planning to get for her Car, but because she practically fully upgraded the Internals (Engine, Intake, Exhaust, Gearbox, Flywheel, Nitrous System, Suspension), she was thinking about getting a Carbon Fiber Body Kit for her Car in order to reduce the weight because she didn't want to strip the interior. Giselle didn't worry much about the Tires because she was always equipped with the best quality tires. After checking out the now-stripped GT-R, Giselle helped him with lowering the Engine into the hood. "So why so many cars, why not just stick with one, like me?"
 
"Because..." He said now lifting the car up and letting the usual routine take place in which they work on a car together, him asking for a hand every now and again. Paul couldn't answer the question. He kept pondering over it, there had to be a reason. Other than he liked cars. Other than he loved working on them. Pushing the thought out he started to set up the suspension. New brake discs now being fitted with a normal pace of speed. He was working at a steady pace, but somewhat slow, a little below average for himself, the question dwelling in his head. "I..." He shook his head and reached over grabbing a ratchet, pacing back over to the car and starting to align the camber and toe on each side, his clipboard and calculator constantly being at his side, it was the only way his calculations could be made perfect. Paul, still avoiding the question, slowly lowered the car, swapping in the new rear end and now assembling the front in, adjusting the axle and anything else in question, shocks all of the minor details most people would only go over if they were readying for the twenty four hours of Le Mans. Paul made his way over to the small stand that held the transmission, the case being opened. Paul was very careful with handling the parts in the transmission as careful as his hands could work in the casing.

Finally after another couple of hours, by the mark of three, he rolled out from under the car and sat up. He had figured she would still be looking for an answer, as usually they had more than one conversation subject when working on a car together, which they did often, and this time it was simply asking for tools, and silence. Paul stood up and looked at the project car, it may have looked done, but it was far from it, the worst part of a new car, testing, problems, hiccups. Which were always a long project that was arduous to say the least. Taking a seat on a shop stool he finally shrugged his shoulders "Giselle... I have no idea... I.. I don't know if it's because I am avoiding something or..." Paul's eyes fell on the frame of the 1970 Dodge Charger that had sat in the garage, not touched since the day his father passed away, nine and a half yeas ago.... His eyes remained on the frame, the black scratched up door's and roof, the dust painted glass, and the very car that stared directly back at Paul... With an leery and incredibly intense silence fell upon the entire garage.

"Dad?" Paul asked heading out of the house and into the small garage that held the black car that the twelve year old was so fond of. Once Paul made his way into the garage, he saw his father sitting on the stool, the oxygen tank hooked up to his mouth and the fifty year old man turning around and smiling to his son, the final stages of cancer falling upon the father, who knew his time was very close, and his time as a father, which was his greatest and most beautiful time of life, was running out as well. "Hey buddy." He said smiling to the boy who came to him with a water "Here... I got you a water." "Thanks bub." Paul looked at the car and then back to his dad "Dad..." Paul said looking up at his Dad, the young boy knew his dad was close, but he simply didn't want to admit it... He was in a bit of denial, and even more so, he was afraid of what would happen when his father was gone.. Who would be his male figure? "What's up bubba?" his hoarse and strained voice just enough to form the sentences he spoke "Aren't you going to miss the car? And... All your other things you made?" Paul asked, trying not to say the word that he so didn't want to speak "Son... These are all materials... But you are the greatest thing I have ever created, and I never want you to forget that." He said wrapping his arm around the boys shoulders and smiling down at him, drawing another breath from his oxygen mask "W... What about the car... W... We never got to finish it." Paul said, now tears rising to his eyes "Son... The car is a family heirloom, I was suppose to be the one to build it back, and pass it on... But now... Now that I can't do that... You need to... No matter how much you fear the fact that it has many tales of yourself and I..." His father said with a soft kiss on the forehead "Go on inside. I will be there in a little bit." Paul had followed his Dad's request and once his father never came out, he came back to find him sitting still, in his shop chair, his body lifeless, his eyes closed, and his passing now inevitable. A slip of paper sitting next to his father that read 'When you are ready... Open the glove box.' which was the last act his father performed, before his life on earth was terminated.
 
Giselle was a little concerned for Paul. She then started wondering when Tyrese would show up. After a few more minutes and the awkward moment of silence, she went back to working on her own car. While examining her Engine, the painful memories of High School started flooding into her mind in a rapid matter. She started remembering all the malicious comments and even death threats that were directed towards her. What was everyone's motives for bullying her? What did she do that was so wrong. Was she too beautiful? Too Independent? Obviously Jealousy played a role. But what else? For most of the girls who bullied her, she semi-understood, but for the boys where she ended up enduring sexual harassment as well. Although neither Paul nor Tyrese knew, Giselle did take a life when she was seventeen, but she had no qualms or regrets because she didn't even get charged with Manslaughter or even Murder.

"Whore"
"Bitch."
"Skank."
"Slut."
"Chink."
"Go back to Korea, you fake-looking bitch."
"Weak."
"Spoiled little bitch."
"Even my Grandma's hotter then you and she's dead."


She then recalled that fateful night. While sitting at home alone, one of her classmates broke into her house and attempted to rape her. Before he could even try to force her to perform any sexual act or any of the sort and despite being held down and almost getting her pants ripped off, she pulled out a Handgun which was hidden in the Couch and shot her would-be rapist in the throat, killing him instantly before calling 911. Because it was an act of Self-Defense, she was found Not Guilty by the Grand Jury and Innocent of all charges. She even won the Wrongful Death Lawsuit that was filed against her. As she heard the Gunshot via Flashback, she dropped the Wrench that was in her hand.
 
Tyrese yanked the wheel around the corner and slapped the gear down, the 1970 Pontiac Firebird was a gentle and obedient creature, but the engine and the tires squealing called for much more, making it a vicious monster to any who were trashed by it in a quarter mile. Only ten second car's are what the dark skinned man drove, car's that got from point A to point B in the shortest amount of time possible. Ty was just another racer that had a bit more than a skill for driving a car... He could drive any car, for any purpose, making him the second hand man when they had to jump those semi's to get some nice extra cash. Ty had the music pumping in the back of the cockpit, the three fifteen inch sub's made by Kicker packed a hell of a punch when they were turned up to the max, hell they could probably break the glass. When Ty got the car it was a hunk of shit, even that is sugar coating with a cherry on top to describe the condition he had it. The interior was so bad that at one point he had a bucket seat... He had to sit on a fucking... Bucket. To drive his damn car. But now he had the high life, decked out interior, replacing all the silver inlays and lining with neon lights that were adjustable in color and could have patterns, the inside looked somewhat of a futuristic classic muscle brought back from the past. Ty didn't push as much under the hood as he wanted though, nor did he have the dough to roll out new parts yet. Paul had offered so many times to do it, but Ty had been trying to get his friend to do what he needed to do. Work on his Dad's charger. Ty didn't know if Paul was afraid of it, or afraid of the memories... There was a damn curse behind that car though, that was for sure. Never had Ty been so intimidated by a car, the way it looked even stripped to the bone, he couldn't understand why it looked so evil, so harsh, yet still be a car. Ty caught himself slipping when he yanked the wheel to the left kicking the back tires into a free spin to allow him to swing the car between two car's crossing paths, coming within inches of sandwiching him. Ty smiled bobbled his head back and forth "Hahhaaaaa Still too sli-!" the car's front tires soared a couple of feet in the air when he had forgotten the speed bump at the back entrance to the garage and his head nearly hit the steering wheel.

Once clicking the button and opening a garage door, Ty rolled his car into the garage, sticking it in neutral and revving the engine, letting the raw six hundred horsepower make itself known before he killed the engine and hopped out of the car. "Lookin good baby girl." Ty said smiling to Giselle, he was usually a light heart'd banter with her, he saw it as she was bullied so much she needed some good self esteem to back her up, even though he wouldn't do that for anyone else, Giselle was like a sister "Yo man. We gotta talk." Ty stated pointing a finger to Paul.

-Paul-

When Paul heard the loud pumping bass of Tyrese's car he snapped out of the memory from his father and himself. Looking over to Giselle, Everyone's so on edge... he thought to himself, not able to comprehend if they all needed some group therapy or something. He knew Giselle was still a bit down in the dumps from the past couple of days, they had to work so hard to slip back underground that it put a tole of stress on all of them. When Ty revved his engine Paul let a grin form on his face and his head shake side to side "Better watch out, she might kick your ass." Paul said when he talked to Giselle "She's like my sister dawg she aint gonna hurt me. But hey... We gotta talk." Paul looked to Tyrese a bit confused.


"Yo man... On some real shit... Ya need to finish that car." Ty said pointing to the black frame that sat in the corner.
"I don't see the point behind it. It's sat there for what? Eight years?" Paul had made a pretty terrible excuse, and soon to follow was obvious.
"Man... That's why it needs to be done... What are you afraid of?"
"Hey fuck you, I'm not afraid of shit." Paul said putting down the wrench he had in his hand.
"Then either you pull the cover off that thing or I do."
"Hey... Don't you touch that car." Paul said now walking across to Ty who now made his way to the car reaching for the cover that was draped over the top and the back, Paul gripped his wrist and Ty pushed him back "Come on man! Ya Dad woulda wanted you to see whatever is in there!" "Not until I was ready." "Who says you aren't?" "Me" "Who says you're not in denial." Ty spoke looking eye to eye with his best friend, the two silent and the car sitting behind them.
 
Giselle took note of the boys bickering, but since it didn't come to pushing and shoving. She didn't really worry. She picked up the wrench that she had dropped earlier before looking over at the covered up Dodge Charger before setting it in the toolbox to go out and talk to Tyrese and Paul. Even she was curious with what was under the covers. "Paul, its been there since Middle School. I think its time we take a look at what's underneath." She said with her arms folded, siding with Tyrese.

(Sorry, Writer's Block)
 
Ty turned around and looked to Giselle "See?! Paul it's been there for ever. Come on man.." Ty was really fed up with the old car sitting there for so long and having no one touch it, or do anything with it. He knew it wasn't his business but when it came to the things that were a family subject, he had the biggest say, he never had a family, this group was his family. The only family he ever had. Ty stared right at Paul. What was he so afraid of? Other then the car lookin' like one mean son of a bitch... Ty just wanted to know, why was it such a big thing, was he actually afraid? Ty let a long drawn breath out from his nostrils before turning around, shaking his head ever so slightly to the position they were in, putting his forehead against the red Snap-On tool chest, the gloss paint faded and scratched from the labor's of working on car's. "Paul we gotta job comin' up breh. One that you need to be focused on."

Paul looked to Giselle, when did she ever even notice the car? Why did that even matter? Who cared if it was there? Paul turned around and looked back to Ty, biting the inside of his lip a bit to ease some stress that was now creeping up into his mind and state of domineer. All Paul could keep picturing was the slip of paper, the slip of paper that his father had made sure was seen, just for Paul's eyes. There had to be a purpose right? Not just something like a life guidance. Not something light, this was going to be something heavy... Something that stayed locked up in that glove box for eight years or more. Paul let his fingers rest around the hem of the cover, his shaky breath drawing in once he pulled the cover passed the engine bay, all Paul saw was the same view, except from his twelve year old self, how many times he walked passed, looked at it, always wanting to get inside the car, and now... It was like he wanted nothing to do with it, there was something leery, something cold that made this simple car a fear that struck in him like no other. There's things that Paul has heard people describe, how they simply are in an area or they simply see an object and it makes them fear something, some say it's because they don't know the intentions. Paul pulled back the rest of the cover, snatching it off and looking at the back end, he was wrong, the entire back end was in tact, had all the fender's, he had just not seen it in so long. He didn't remember. Paul took in a deep breath, his hand running down the driver's side of the car, walking around the front, the silence enough to let Paul think.

Ty didn't know if he was supposed to be staring as much as he was, and he actually somewhat regretted the fact that the cover was off of the car. Even with all the shit he went through growing up, nothing ever phased him, but now that the cover was off that frame, it game him the oddest tickle down his spine that he hadn't felt in a long time, if ever at that.

The silence was broken when Paul pushed in the button on the handle. Popping open the door he let his eyes take a look over the stripped interior, the metal lining made to hold a seat or two, and that's it, but usually it was a lone rider, no one but the driver... Because no one else wanted to feel nine-hundred horsepower pushing them into the seat. Grabbing the picture of him and his father, he looked at the note that was taped to the back of it, as well as the key to the glove box 'When you're ready'. Paul's hands gripped at the glove box that had been sitting in the floor of the car for years, the car was stripped of it's glove box because it was doing a quarter mile in nine seconds flat, every last bit of weight was reduced, at least those were the stories his Dad always told him. Now sliding the key in and turning it, the front of the box opened, showing an envelope, a manila folder, filled with papers. Retrieving them Paul looked through the information.

"Paul.... Are those police records?" Ty asked now slightly pushing off the bench.
"Y... yeah..." Paul said reaching into the box and pulling out a bunch of cassette's "L.A.P.D. Interrogation 5/15/95 W.C.S. Scott Klein Parker.... L.A.P.D. Interrogation 5/16/95 W.C.S. Scott Klein Parker." Paul kept sifting through all of the cassettes reading them off, name by name, all of them being different names that he hadn't heard of before. Once he put them down he flipped open the file and his eyes rested on the car that he now was propped up against. The next page entailed a full report on the owner, and the crimes the car was involved in. Which was over ten pages long.
 
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