Board Thread:Fanmade/@comment-26912075-20180826001644/@comment-26912075-20180910191718

Just then, a procession of officers marched down the tented streets and began to examine the area, conducting searches of racer's tents and belongings, as well as referring to the paperwork in order to pick out determined suspects. Several moans of grievance could be heard as racers were discharged from the race and occasionally arrested through possession of illegal substances and other illegal activities. Screams could be heard in the distance as the police sacked another man to the ground and put him under arrest. They began to close in Guidata, Bradmante, and the other's position as they routinely checked every tent still standing.

-

Meanwhile, in a wooden tower overlooking the camping grounds, Steven Steel sulked as reports continually attempted to barge through the doors and grieving and complaining family members of the deceased consistently sent in letters of rebuking and sorrow. Steel collapsed into his arms on his desk as he bashed it continuously with his feet and fist. "Damn it! Everything was supposed to go perfectly! The weather was fine, the registrations went well. What went wrong?" Steven complained as he jumped up from his desk, his chair making an ear-piercing scratching noise as he forced it back unnaturally quick. He went to the window and looked at the investigation and search tactics being employed by the police, who had temporarily taken over the race area in order to find the culprit of the gunshot. Steel was sweating profusely under the summer heat and attempted to get breeze from the window, but there was hardly any to be found, leading to his increasing frustration. "I'm going to get in trouble for this... The race is ruined. Its reputation is tarnished by the incident and by the scoundrels that keep turning up through this investigation!" Steel looked back to the room and slumped backward in his chair, becoming nearly catatonic as his head lay only supported by his hand. "It's over for me, isn't it? sigh  This is the end of the dream. At least God had the courtesy of allowing me to see the opening." Steel shook his head and breathed in, overcome by a feeling of homelessness and lying fried by the heat. He loosened his collar and sat back. He heard a thumping sound in his room. He looked to see a young girl with a track of cold wine. Steel motioned to her, and she placed it on the table. "Thank you for this. I'm surprised the racers haven't left because of this blasted heat. They're going to die of heatstroke at this rate. Fueh." Steel opened his eyes and looked at her once again, shaking his head. "Excuse me, my manners seem to have disappeared for a short while. Forgive me."

"You mustn't give up. Not yet."

"Hm?" Steel let out under the rolls of his fiery breath as he looked up at the girl.

She looked to the window, at the train and press and racers. "Look at all you have accomplished with your life. From what destitution have you cast away? If you give up now, what'll be left of all your struggles?"

Steel looked confused at her. "How do you...?"

"I hear you talk about it all the time. Always drunkenly complaining to your noble allies what you have been through and how you have built yourself back up. That's why you shouldn't give up... not yet." She said, smiling, as she took the tray from under Steel's glass and began to exit the room.

"Wait..." Steel said as he reached out his hand towards the girl, who turns around in question. "What is your name, fair lady?"

She smiled as she looked at the man. "Lucy." She quickly exited the room as Steel was left blank. He picked up his glass as he returned to the window, one hand behind his back.

"Lucy, eh?" Steel said as he sipped from his glass and peered into the brown liquid within, seeing his own reflection and recalling the past. He smiled slightly as he looked at the grounds, confidence returning to his eyes. "I'll remember that."

-

Meanwhile, in a train car barreling towards the Pacific, a man slowly entered a darkened room, filled with extravagant furniture and a single purple curtain. "Mr. President." He said saluting. "We will arrive at our destination in due time. The mayor is expecting you there."

From behind the curtain, a figure waves his hand, and the man bowed and exited the room. The figure looked at a window brimming with light that glistened off his golden hair. "Good. If those reports are true, then I will have to watch this race even more closely." He said, downing a shot of red wine, smiling for an unknown reason, confident of something to come.