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Realistic or Modern Shut up and drive. (Main)

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teluhtubby

Three Thousand Club
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Finnie
Interactions: Open

Finnie. She’s the leader of the infamous racing gang. People don’t know much about her, but normally she keeps a low profile. Of course, Finnie isn’t her real name. Not even those in her gang know it, which seems weird, but she keeps precautionary measures. What makes other question the gang, is that she’s a girl leading it. Honestly, Finnie doesn’t care.

Currently, she’s at the back of their hideout, washing her favorite car, her Honda Civic Type R. It has always been her dream car and always will be, even though she has one now. She loves her cars, just as much as her gang members. She’ll do anything to protect them.

She carefully whipped a sponge on the black, smooth surface. Her music blasting loudly in her ears from her AirPods. She had her blonde hair up in a neat ponytail and was quietly humming. She wore a black t-shirt and white shorts. She knew it was only a matter of time until a new race would come upon them. But for now, she’s waiting it out. At least until one of her members get reached out to from other gangs, or herself.

George
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Interactions: Open

George, the mother-guy of the group. People adore him, and he’s very confident and knows it. George wouldn’t even be where he is now, if it wasn’t for Finnie. She was like the sister he never had, to George.

Right now, he just pulled up at the hideout with two large bags in his hands. He just got some food from his house that he made recently for everyone. It’s the thought that counts, honestly; that’s how he puts it, anyway. He’s wearing a large baby blue sweater and black jeans. George usually always wears larger clothing because he’s self-conscious of his body. But not everyone needs to know that.

George opens the door and groans as he places the heavy bags on a small table by the door. “I’m back!” He shouts and walks inside more, stretching his arms slightly.
 
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A clang of metal on concrete rang out through the shop-level of the compound. Jess cursed as her favorite ratchet landed just out of reach.

"Fucker", came the disgruntled murmur from under the chassis of her '76 chevy pickup.

Jessica had busted a U-joint the last time she'd went off-roading, and her front-end differential had been effectively useless since then. The blonde grease monkey had been installing a new one and had been too impatient to put the truck up on a lift. It didn't help that she was just a little hung over from the night prior. Laying on her back along the underside of a hot vehicle didn't make things any better.

She rubbed a greasy hand across her face to push sweat from her brow. A black streak was left with the absent-minded motion.

The familiar noise of the shop door bade Jess to look across the room. She was always paranoid of cops or other people that shouldn't be in the shop just walking into the place. In her own opinion, the group was way to brazen about their illegal activities. and it was only a matter of time before a police unit came kicking that door down.

"I'm back"

It was George. Relaxing, Jess went back to what she was doing. To be honest, she hadn't even noticed he'd left. And the pounding in her head didn't exactly excite her into the premise of a conversation. Scooting over a bit, Jessica stretched out to finger over her ratchet.
 
A pile of books sat atop Kamila's little workbench that she claimed in the hideout. As much as she wanted to be working on cars right now, she was stuck with homework. The youngest member of the gang was in her last year of high school but being in the gang meant that her homework got overworked most of the time. But this time, she had to get it done, her teachers were on her case about submitting assignments. The work was unavoidable.

She tried to work through math problems but she was getting nowhere. "Who needs this stuff anyway?" She muttered to herself as she restarted on a question. But luckily her saving grace came through the door. George, and with food too, thank god.

Taking her math homework with her, she practically ran to George. Firstly, there is no way she's passing up food. Secondly, maybe George would have some sort of idea of how the hell to answer her homework. "Took you long enough." She sarcastically said as she opened the bag and tried to take a peek inside. She wanted to know what sort of dish George made, but even if it tasted like crap, she'd probably eat it anyway.

"Oh, by the way, you have any clue how to do this? I figured you got a full high school education." She joked as she placed the piece of paper on the table for him to take a look at. It was filled with algebra equations. Some of the blanks were filled in with answers, but Kami didn't even know if they were the correct answers. Then the rest of the complicated-looking questions were left blank.

If George looked back at Kami now, he'd find that she had taken something out of the bags. It looked like she was inspecting it, almost considering if she should just steal this and run, it was probably delicious after all.

Interactions: George ( teluhtubby teluhtubby )
 
A small rumble could be heard as Jupiter pulled up in the back of the hideout. The smooth hum of the Cruiser's motor turned off and Jupiter clicked the bike stand out and hopped off in one smooth motion. His hair looked very windswept, but he paid no mind to this.

He de-attached a basket that he had added onto the back of his bike- he added this feature because he found it useful, especially since he would come back to the hideout with books of poetry and copies of sheet music from the local library. However spaced-out he could be sometimes, he also sure could be practical.

Jupiter stopped on his way inside and watched Finnie washing her car. He almost smiled; he found her love of her vehicles both commendable yet odd. Retrospect being 20/20, he realized that he too loved his bikes in the same way. He looked around in his basket of literature and found what he was looking for.


"Hey." he mumbled. Jupiter figured that he was being too quiet for Finnie to hear over the sound of her music. Also, he did tend to mumble a lot. "Hey, Finnie. I got you something." he said a little louder.
 





















  • groggy








mood

filler

outfit

filler

tags






CLANG!

"So...loud," Denji mumbled, his head turning over to see Jess grab her ratchet wrench. It seemed that he'd fallen asleep on his creeper for the third night (read: day) in a row.

Working on the AE86 might have been hard, but the 370Z was somehow harder. In his old crew (which was really his father's old crew), they had a dedicated mechanic to teach him how to mod his car but this group was still young. Though Kamila was a great friend, she was bogged down by school and Jess was...intimidating. He respected her experience and blunt attitude as it was something that some of the other members were lacking. Granted, he one of the youngest members but he could distinguish expertise from pure enthusiasm.

"Guess it's time to get back to work," he yawned, wheeling himself over to his toolbox.




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