she was the fastest thing around ( open )

[leatherboots]

WHO: rupert hentzau, his brand new bad idea, and you
WHERE: jeopardy
WHEN: second half of august
WHAT: watch a victorian jock evolve into a boy racer before your very eyes
WARNINGS: something naughty will probably happen at some point make outs, bad language, drug references, a car crash

start your engine (if you can) ( open )
car status: brand new (but not for long)

Jeopardy | What's even the point in having ill-gotten gains if you can't spend it all? The sudden influx of shiny American dollars was burning a hole in Rupert's pocket and he was certainly overdue buying something stupid. And so he had picked a Mustang because he liked the name and a G5 because the sound of the engine promised him adventure, and that was the better part of his illicit money gone.

He'd insisted on no questions asked (because the nature of the money demanded silence) which had somehow extended to nobody bothering to check his license. Which was a damn good thing, considering Rupert technically didn't have one. And somehow, one hour after meeting his questionless car-selling contact, Rupert was driving (haphazardly) away with a brand new car.

Getting the car back to Jeopardy 001 was harder than he'd thought. The rules of the road were something that Rupert only vaguely knew of from his brief foray into Bluetube, but the understanding was largely lost on him. But by some miracle - and mostly avoiding traffic cops, cameras, pedestrians and other cars - Rupert rolls up the government-assigned imPort street with his brand new toy. It's a miracle really, not that Rupert has anytime to congratulate himself as he parks the beast half on/half off the kerb outside 001.

What a lark. He punches the horn experimentally, delighted with the angry urgency of the barked reply, and sets the windscreen wipers going just for the hell of it. He tunes the radio to something smooth and jazzy, throwing the volume knob so farto the right that the brassy swell of noise rumbles through the whole chassis (and the street beyond). Just because the car is stationary doesn't mean that Rupert still can't be a bloody nuisance with it.

be fast or be last ( closed to cassidy )
car status: car-length scrape (shrubbery), dented right wingmirror (post box)

Maurtia Falls | Portalling the Mustang over to Maurtia Falls feels like a terrible idea, even for someone as terrible as Rupert. So he thumbs a quick text to his chaos twin, parks the Mustang in a desolate patch of desert outside of town, and neatly tears himself a portal over to Maurtia Falls 002.

Stepping out into the relative coolness of Pennsylvanian street, Rupert dusts a little of the desert off his shirt as he waits for Cassidy to come to the door.

"Hello," Rupert says cheerfully, pulling a pair of obscenely overpriced sunglasses from his face to squint up at the other man with a grin of satisfaction. "Father's bought a new toy. Would you like to play?"

full throttle ( open )
car status: dusty, dented

Jeopardy | In time, Rupert learns how to tame his new creature. A voracious and powerful need to excel drives him to learn everything there is to know about the car, from black-magic-and-science engineering behind the hood to the way the vibrations should feel just so as it moves through the gears. It was a project of sorts, a whirlwind of devouring car-nerd driving blogs at 2am and many, many roadside failures.

He hadn't expected the car to feel so alive; the Mustang is as willful as it's namesake and Rupert's more than a bit in love with it. Encased by black leather and glass, sprawling low behind the wheel, he isn't entirely sure he's the one driving this creature. The car doesn't pull away so much as prowl, a predator on the roads, muzzled only by the fact that Rupert is yet to unleash the engine's true potential.

But he knows it's there. It's what drives him to seek out another taste of that heart-stopping delight as the car roars and plunges forwards with barely restrained power. Taking the Mustang out to the desert surrounding Jeopardy - late at night, early in the morning, whenever Rupert feels a burning need to stretch his (and the car's) legs - has become part of his everyday adventures. It's addictive, and Rupert's quite sure that if he turns the wheel just a little harder with every turn that he could very well spin the car over and kill himself. Not that that stops him, exactly. The intoxicating hit of equal parts fear and primal joy as the Mustang greedily leans into every dusty desert doughnut is just too exciting. There are definitely worse ways to die.

( existing cr, feel free to assume that rupert has invited your character out for a ride! new cr, tell this young hooligan to cut it out (or join in) )

now for something completely different ( closed to cecelia )
some fancy deisgner clothes outlet (car status: grateful for a rest)

De Chima| Rupert doesn't spend all of his free time trying to kill himself in the Nevada desert. After all, there's still a considerable amount of ill-gotten gains burning multiple holes in his pocket. The Masked Man costume had been his only other purchase - other than the monstrous Mustang, of course - and it seemed a shame to just have that kind of money lying around.

Briskly portalling over to the designer boutiques of De Chima, Rupert busies himself with exploring the racks of clothes. This particular shop is painfully minimalist in a way Rupert doesn't understand, dotted with strange abstract art installations and mannequins wearing clothes that seem to be made more of rips than fabric. It isn't Rupert's style - far from the monotone elegance that he often opts for - but he's distracted by a smooth leather jacket that most certainly has his name on --

A short scream and a prolonged crash. It's nearby, a little too close for comfort, and Rupert idly wonders if this is another bizarre attack of some sort, the kind that seems to happen so regularly in this world. Aliens, perhaps. Cryptids. Robots. It honestly could be anything.

Coolly curious, he leans around a rack of artfully torn jeans in search of the source.

wildcard
build your own

( come at me with a starter of your own or hit me up on plurk fizzier for something else! It doesn't have to be car-related, I promise. )

Comments

Start Your Engine If You Can

[hatestrashcans]

Marco hadn't spent a lot of time in Jeopardy yet, so that was where he was headed that afternoon. Besides, a whole town that just sprung out of nowhere but that everybody insisted already existed? That was exactly the brand of weird, creepy, and awesome that Marco was used to in his life and it was a good distraction from the rest of his life (which was, honestly, a series of distractions strung together if he was honest).

He'd Ported in and then flown around. Once he was finished snooping- er, happening to see things through windows, Marco landed behind the imPort housing building and demorphed, sticking himself in what passed for normal clothes (though he couldn't get used to skinny jeans. They were weird).

And then he saw it. A wonderful, shiny new Mustang. And... somebody using it like it were a Honda Civic. Marco winced.

"Hey!" He raised an arm in greeting, "Sweet car."

[leatherboots]

He sees rather than hears Marco, what with the radio booming smooth jazz for all the neighbourhood to hear. But on spotting that cheery arm wave Rupert quickly twists the volume knob down to a moderate bellow. He grins breezily at Marco's approach despite having absolutely no idea what he's just said.

"So sorry," He shouts over the music with a grin as he leans an elbow out of the window. "Can't hear you over the sound of how fucking wonderful this beast is."

[hatestrashcans]

"That is completely understandable," Marco responds, walking up to the car and circling it with an impressed whistle, "Should probably turn the wipers off, though." What? Marco had owned some nice cars in his year of wealth, and while he was extremely fond of his toys, he was also nerdy enough that he did things like read the manuals.

"And what are you playing on that radio? You want to get the full experience, pick something with some bass to it! This is like music my grandpa would play!" Not that Marco had known his grandpa, but that wasn't the point.

[leatherboots]

The wipers - of course. He hesitates a moment before finding the wiper lever and deftly flicking them off with a hum of satisfaction (see? He's getting the hang of this already) before turning back to Marco with a grin.

"Considering when I was born, I should think I'm old enough to be your great grandfather, actually," Rupert cheerfully points out. He's actually rather fond of this music with all its expressive, soaring musicality. The soulful - almost human - trumpet song spoke to him on a level Rupert hadn't really expected.

Still, he's open to experimentation. And Marco's blatant admiration of the car was definitely earning him Rupert Points. He beckons the younger boy inside, indicating the empty passenger seat.

"Come on, then. Find me some more appropriate music."

start your engine

[femalething]

With her new status to the city still, Maureen finds herself wandering the streets at all hours of the day. And night- though she tries to do that less. Not that she feels unsafe (ok, maybe a little)- but more because she really has yet to make friends here and who the hell is she going to call if she's stuck in a pinch?

It's early evening, on her way back to 004 from her job, that she hears the swell of music- and the beckoning she feels at such a call. Someone's having a good time, and she could honestly use a good time right now. Instead of heading to her place, she followed the siren call of a sound system that was pushing its limit- only to stop and see what exactly she was working with.

Someone doesn't know or care to know how to park- and though they seem to be using every button and knob on the car, that still doesn't stop her. Her eyes have all but lit up at the sight of the car- a longing for her motorcycle swells in her chest. She takes a deep breath, smooths out her leather leggings, and starts to cross the street with an extra sway to her hip.

"Testing out all the gadgets? Or are you trying to piss off as many neighbors as you can?"

She doesn't ask him until she's close enough that she doesn't have to yell quite as loud to be heard or acknowledged.

[leatherboots]

By the time Maureen finds Rupert and his toy, Rupert himself is busy with the car manual, spreading the weighty little book out over his lap as he thumbs idly through the (mostly incomprehensible) pages. He's worked his way through the more mysterious buttons already. The headlights are on full beam, cutting twin beams of dramatic laser-sharp acidic white down the street, and the air conditioning roars at full strength beneath the soulful jazz radio turned all the way up to 11.

He glances up at the voice and, on spotting Maureen's approach, he snaps the manual shut with a dramatic clap. Those leather leggings deserve his full attention.

"Upset all my dear neighbours? Perish the thought," He replies with an indulgently malevolent grin. "Why? Don't tell me you're a neighbour, are you? I'm sure I'd recognise a face like yours..."

[femalething]

"They put me up in 004," Maureen replies easily, grinning from ear to ear. She leans over to rest her arms on his open window, one eyebrow raised. "I've only been here a couple weeks."

The blast of the air that she can feel now that she's close enough is nice- and he's easy on the eyes himself. "Still meeting the neighbors and all that."

She reaches out her hand, still resting her elbow on the windowsill. "I'm Maureen."

full throttle

[stlg13bomber]

[OOC: Let me know if any of this doesn't work.]

Carter hadn't expected to get a call from the man he'd gone on the surprise date with, let alone for something that back in his day counted as...well, suggestive, if nothing else. Get in the car together, drive out to somewhere secluded, and then Something happens. He'd been a bit nervous, to be honest.

Then he saw the car and Rupert's intentions with the car, and any nervousness that there might be dating involved went out the window. He leaned his head out the window like an excited dog, letting the hot wind whip past his face as Rupert threw the car into exhilarating whirls and spirals. Really, the only way this could get better is if the car was a person like Knock Out, and that was just asking for too much.

[leatherboots]

( it's perfect! )

Thank God for other time-displaced imPorts. Even though Carter actually knew what a car was, Rupert didn't mind being quite so ignorant of technology around the other man. It was all a learning curve, one way or another, but what a hell of a learning curve the Mustang was.

Carter's enthusiasm was infectious, too. Rupert whoops jubilantly as he puts the car through its paces, kicking up tall clouds of billowing dust as steering wheel and tyres alike go in to ridiculous spins. Every overblown circle has him wondering if perhaps, maybe, this might be the one where the car throws itself bodily over itself and dash them both on the hot desert rocks. Rupert's sure he isn't quite in control, but honestly? If he were in control it wouldn't be half as fun.

"Hang on!" He shouts over the snarling engine as he swerves them out of the latest curve, before stamping on the gas pedal with savage delight. Enough of the spins. Time to see just how fast the Mustang is on a straight line.

[stlg13bomber]

"Yeah, BOY!" Carter lets out a giddy roller-coaster shriek as the car careens in an arc. His fingers are latched onto the door, anywhere they can find purchase, and his feet are braced against the acceleration. They'd had cars in his day but they weren't like this car, and they definitely never let Carter ride around in one of the fancy ones going as fast as physically possible.

"Let 'er rip, Rupert!"

(If this was what dating boys instead of girls was like? He needed to date more boys.)

ya bois

[crassidy]

Cassidy's not entirely sure what to expect when he first hears from Rupert, but he knows hanging out with his pals will be hilarious and terrible no matter what, so he's perfectly eager to throw aside any and all other plans for the day and agree to whatever's in store.

When Rupert does show up, Cass bounds out the front door eagerly, like a kid who's just been invited out to play, umbrella slung jauntily over his shoulder and his grin wide.

"Holy shite, yes! What is it? Yes. Whatever it is."

THE boys

[leatherboots]

"Prepared for all eventualities, I see," He notes, nodding emphatically at the umbrella slung so very jauntily over Cassidy's shoulder and assuming that he must be expecting rain. He lifts a hand to dramatically peel away a layer of space with that awful tearing sound of the fabric of reality falling apart in Rupert's fingers, revealing a door-shaped portal to the dusty country expanses outside of Jeopardy.

Rupert bows dramatically with a completely unnecessary flourish, and announces:

"After you, sir! Your carriage awaits."

[crassidy]

"'Course I am," he says jovially, assuming Rupert is totally just joking around. Because Rupert knows, right? He must know by now, Cassidy can't remember if he's actually told him or not but everyone finds out one way or another. It's not a secret.

Not like it matters, he's more focused on getting to that waiting carriage, ducking his head in an appreciative bow and a polite; "Why thank yeh, good sir." Before stepping into the open door. Portal. Thing.

Sure, some vampires might think it unwise to step into a bright desert setting with only an umbrella for back up, and sure, those portals make him wanna barf, but he's still way too excited to let those be concerns.

[fremde]

Jonas, in the interest of avoiding any possible interaction with his flatmates, waits for Rupert outside by the curb. He's not sure what to expect, really. A couple years ago, speeding around in a Mustang would have been the height of excitement in his life. Now, he's not sure he's capable of even faking enough interest to satisfy Rupert's expectations.

Nevertheless, he'll go along for the ride.

The overwhelming heat and humidity of the Pennsylvanian summer necessitate that Jonas leave behind his usual protective layers. Forced to venture out in just cuffed jeans and a t-shirt, the only way to conceal the scar at his throat is a loosely-tied handkerchief. It's not an effective cover, but enough that Rupert can pretend he doesn't notice the old wound. Enough to excuse him from asking.

[leatherboots]

Rupert's had plenty of practice with portalling into this particular imPort street. He nails the destination on his first try, even managing to aim the door to appear just outside the right house. Still, the awful, ugly sound of slowly ripping fabric - as Rupert quite literally tears the fabric of reality - is just as horrifying as usual as he forces all the laws and concepts of spatial physics to bend to his will.

On the other side of the perfectly rectangular door-sized portal is Rupert, dressed in his beloved 'ImpILF' t-shirt, cheerfully waving at (the faintly miserable-looking) Jonas sat on the kerb.

"Hello, you," He says warmly from the other side. "Ready for an adventure?"

[fremde]

Jonas likely has a much less dramatic reaction to the appearance of a portal than most would convey. That's not the weird thing. It's the sound that alarms him, quite different from the unnerving silence of a wormhole. Once his eyes register the portal opening up before him, he begins to relax. His wide eyes blink once. His shoulders drop an inch.

"As ready as I'll ever be," he replies, sticking to his native tongue, though he's meant to be practicing English. He picks himself up and steps forward to join Rupert, as if there's nothing strange at all about crossing hundreds of miles with a few steps.

launches myself off stairs 20 yrs late with starbux

[adamantlyardent]

[gods. sometimes a girl just wants to go places, you know? and then she goes to a place and it's just...congested with people and it's noisy and smelly and who designed these malls to have the most maddening acoustics imaginable?!

Cecelia's quickly turned a thoughtful outing into a life-or-death mission to navigate this hell-mall, purchase the skirt she wants, and get the hell out of here without wasting any time. hell, she's even glaring icily at the kiosk vendors' general directions! that's what Darin said to do, right? threaten them with potential violence? that sounds right.

whatever.

skirt acquired. time to get out of here!

to the escalators she goes, trying to thread so many needles and bustle past gobs of loiterers and shoppers with zero sense of urgency. the real suffering is getting caught behind some harmless but woefully slow old folks just here to stretch their muscles and have a good time. on her time, gods! maybe the other side will have better luck.

not really: the other side is full of rowdy teens, the worst thing in the world. she fields calls for her attention by painted a very disgusted look on her face as she makes a bee line for the escalator, gingerly stepping on the latest step before feeling a hand brush her shoulder.]

Get! Off of meeeeeeEEAA--!

[she spun back too hard! wobbling! falling!!]

perfection

[leatherboots]

[ It's funny, how one's perspective on the world changes when one has the power of portals. Nowhere is too far, nothing is off limits. Silly concepts like space and gravity and the time it takes to go from one place to the other with your boring feet simply do not apply.

Rupert sees the red-headed girl's perilous wobble and in an instant he knows what's about to happen. And were he some mere mortal then what happens next would be impossible! But luckily for everyone involved, Rupert is not a mere mortal. He's a charming, dashing, heroic imPort with the power to literally sweep red-headed girls off their feet an escalator with a well-timed portal.

The noise is awful - a physically sickening noise of tearing fabric as Rupert quickly wrenches away a layer of reality, creating a neat little space in mid-air that's just about big enough to be able to lean in and catch Cecelia in a firm embrace before she hits the rest of the escalator steps. The momentum sends them both barreling back in to his side of the portal, landing them in a tangle in a rack of fancy coats. A softer landing than an escalator, at least. ]

[adamantlyardent]

[what Cecelia expected is not what she got, and after her squeaky cry of fear, she finds herself extremely discombobulated, accosted by sounds and shapes that leave her racing mind helpless to discern so quickly, and down she goes, plopping into this new segment of the mall bound by another body.]

Ah-! Oh! What!

[and various other confused exclamations of the sort. she is confused to find she can't actually flail? and she's doubly perplexed when she is able to see there's a very handsome face before hers.

with a new squeak, she pushes away, flopping back against the parallel rack, bolstered by hangers, as she slumps and gawks back at him.

brain. processing. please hold.]

2 fast 2 furious

[hellogoodhigh]

Being in a car like this? Is not exactly something he's used to. When he's not in a bus or the family Rolls (thank you, Five), he's usually hitched rides in Diego's old beat-up sedan. More recently, he's had Ben's motorcycle to ride bitch on, but that speed is nothing compared to being in the passanger seat of a Mustang pushing 120.

Which is to say, Klaus is terrified.

He's clinging to the seat like it's the only thing holding him together, and when Rupert takes a turn, he all but yelps.
"Hey, hey! Take it easy, Rupes, I'd prefer not talking to your ghost-!"

[leatherboots]

It isn't that Rupert enjoys Klaus's fear, far from it, but he certainly enjoys the challenge of trying to make Klaus enjoy it as much as he does. He lets off the gas just a little as they throw themselves into a swerving, swooping corner to nowhere, sending up a cloud of red dust as Rupert laughs delightedly.

"You've spent too long with ghosts, dear Klaus!" He declares over the roaring engine. "Live a little!"

Because what's life if you're not actively trying to kill yourself by doing something incredibly dangerous? Rupert's not felt this alive in years.

[hellogoodhigh]

Live a little, the man says, like he hasn't spent the last twelve years-
Okay, no, he hasn't been living it to the fullest, he's been living it in drug induced haze. All the same, he'd rather not end up in the back of an ambulance getting jolted back to life. Again.

And yet, the adrenaline in his blood is intoxicating, his hands grasping to the sides slowly loosening as he feels his heart starting to go a mile a minute. It reminds him of being on uppers, of being all pinpricks and sudden needs and flushed skin.

They take a corner too fast and Klaus actually 'whoops' in excitement, finally letting go.
"You know!" He calls over the roar of the engine. "When you asked me for a car ride I wasn't expecting racing in the desert!"

pushing peter into oncoming traffic shenanigans

[mofi]

[ Murphy is still trying to get used to this porting system; this will be his second time going through one. He's in De Chima one second and the next Murphy is stepping into Nonah. When Murphy has moved out of the way, his gaze bounces from one person to the next. He's looking for the kid with the frog face. ]

Hey. [ Casually, Murphy raises his hand to flag Peter's attention. The first thing he notices is that Peter is a few inches shorter than him. It has Murphy smirking. The distance between them closes as Murphy approaches, stopping just out of arms' length. ]

So [ , Murphy starts to say, ] what are you going to do?

[made_up_names]

[ FROG FACE. That's so rude. But here he is anyway, brightening when he sees Murphy, even if he does have to look up just a little. Look, he's not the world's tallest dude and he never will be. ]

I, uh. I was hoping I'd have it figured out by the time you turned up, but I'm still not sure.

[mofi]

[ A frog face that is cute. Murphy thinks you're cute, Peter. ]

I'm sure we can think of something. [ He walks around Peter and motions with his head to follow him. ] Maybe jump off a roof of one of these buildings? [ There are lots of them to choose from, Murphy points out the tallest one in their vicinity. ] Or is that too tall?