OoC: Title courtesy of Ranny :3. Couldn’t wait to get this one up today. For any and all modern-ish characters who wish to meet my newest character, the talking car, R.A.I.V.E.
“What the hell are you and what the hell is going on?!”
Pitch black car tires peeled themselves on the road as the chrome rims spun their dizzying revolutions. The rev of the engine and screech of the tires echoed throughout the brightly lit streets. The blond-haired girl in the passenger’s seat fumbled with the seatbelt buckle as the car skidded wide, turning to take another route while just barely avoiding traffic. The touch-screen to the right of the steering wheel flashed, the red line on it pulsed as a calm, male voice filled the passenger’s ears.
“I am the Revolutionary Artificial Intelligent Vehicle Enhancement, but you may call me RAIVE.”
The girl blinked as RAIVE continued to explain, pulling up various black and white photos of the girl’s father shaking hands and meeting with shady looking men, along with photos of newspaper clippings which all had the words ‘F.B.I. Director’ in the headlines.
“Your father was involved in certain negotiations with an unknown group, which quickly turned to games of blackmail.”
The car tires left their marks on the road as RAIVE skidded haphazardly around another corner, missing an oncoming car by mere millimeters as it screeched to a halt, the driver surprised at the reckless exotic that had just sped by as if nothing had happened.
“I have been assigned to transport you to the airport as fast and as safely as possible.”
“You call this ‘safely’?!” she protested, her whole body moving and jerking as RAIVE kept narrowly swerving to avoid oncoming traffic before getting back unto the correct lane. As if RAIVE was ignoring her latest protest, it revved the engine accelerating to speeds where anything outside the window became passing blurs. Before the girl could protest again, the screen flashed, bringing up a real-time overhead video of their current location, showing a shimmering black car behind them, struggling to keep up.
The red line pulsed again, “We are being followed. I cannot allow them to realize our destination.”
As soon as RAIVE finished speaking, long lines of words started appearing on the screen, the AI apparently scrolling through a seemingly long list. The Director’s daughter blinked at the screen in astonishment as her hands held on tightly to the seatbelt that rested across her chest.
“Yes. I have my own collection.” RAIVE responded calmly, “Now, please, secure yourself.”
Come on out in this light
“Entering Blaze Pursuit Mode in five, four, three …”
Satellites can’t see what’s inside
Scratching and squeaking sounds were heard all around the body of the car as the nanotechnology kicked into action, covering up any drag-increasing areas as well as building spoiler completely out of nanites at the back of the car. A soft whirring sound filled the interior as RAIVE dropped to barely an inch off the ground. The noise from the engine increased, along with the volume of the music in an attempt to drown it out.
Unlock the door; it won’t save you anymore
The engine seemingly cried out in protest as the car blurred along the brightly lit highway, speeding past other drivers at break-neck speed. As RAIVE rounded a large corner the runway lights of the airport came into view. At that same time, the computer pulled up another live-feed video, showing the satellite’s inability to keep up with the car and more importantly, the absence of any pursuer.
Governments can’t fight what’s inside.
“Maybe you could slow down, now?!” she shouted over the music and noise.
Show some signs of life
RAIVE began pulling up maps of the area on the screen, pointing out their location and current speed along with their destination.
“There is a lake less than a kilometer from our current location. Straight across it is our destination.”
Come on down from these heights
“How long can you hold your breath?”
There was a sound of escaping air below the car as RAIVE suddenly lifted off the road and over the highway’s railing which was supposed to keep cars from plunging to the lake below.
Others bled to give you the right.
The Director’s daughter began screaming at the top of her lungs as the surface of the placid lake moved up rapidly to meet them.
Understand the choice, they don’t even hear your voice
“Your screeching is causing my interior audio sensors to vibrate,” RAIVE protested calmly, awaiting the precise moment when the spinning wheels hit the water.
But governments can’t fight what’s inside
The water splashed all around them as the car hung halfway below the surface before resurfacing again, RAIVE releasing another jet of air below as the wheels began to spin rapidly. It was not until they were halfway across the lake that the woman realized what had happened, her screaming slowly dying down. The screen blinked green, showing her a model of her body, her decreasing heart-rate and a small bar that moved over the model.
“Are you okay? It appears that the trip downward did not hurt you physically.”
With tears in her eyes, she nodded silently before covering her face with both hands. RAIVE continued to talk.
Show some signs of life
“I apologize. Please know that I do not wish to harm you in any way. My primary objective is the protection and preservation of life. If I knew your body was unable to withstand the shock of that jump, I would not have done it.”
And come down and put your heart in this fight
Revving the engine, the supercar rolled easily up onto the shore as the nanites began working again, breaking apart the spoiler and lifting the car, returning it to its original state. RAIVE reached the gates to the runway, and a second after, the waiting plane.
Ah, come on and make your stand tonight.
RAIVE slowed to a stop and opened the passenger door as a number of FBI agents made their way over swiftly, helping the Director’s daughter out of the car.
“You are now in the hands of the FBI.” A number of windows flashed on the touch-screen as RAIVE accessed the organization’s database, “They will be escorting you to Tokyo.”
The door closed automatically as the rear wheels started spinning on one spot, screeching and letting out clouds of smoke.
“Take care of yourself.”
The engine and tires screamed as the car spun suddenly, racing its way back to the entrance.
Cool air screamed, sliding roughly against what exposed olive skin there was, tugging roughly at the tight fitting leather apparel, its resistance immense. But his perfect form cut through the air, lights of the runway flashing brightly off of the plate glass visor that composed well over half of the specialty motorcycle helmet. A loud whirring noise emanated from the meeting of the nano-tire wheels against the rough asphalt, indicating once again that this world was still so rustic as to employ such an environmentally hazardous material. Exhausted could be smelled upon the air, albeit they did use mostly gasoline powered airplanes… The fact that they still used airplanes was cause enough for him to chuckle.
Ahead, raced his objective. Slick as oil, the strange yellow light of this landing strip blazing their yellow reflection upon it. It was going somewhere around 80 miles per hour; it was hard to tell with his visor on that exact speed of it, it hardly made a noise. It just raced ahead, tempting him, its swiftness speaking to the Angel, tempting him, practically challenging his superior racing abilities and off planet technology. His breath came in deeper draws, the cold lakeside air stinging his nostrils, heart thumping at a faster tempo than before. His hand pulled back the handle further in a swift motion, accelerating to 90.23 mph, he looked down at the speedometer, it read 91, he would have to get it recalibrated. He was getting closer to the black car, closer to the rush of winning against such a speedy looking demon.
It was only a few minuets ago that the Angel of Mysteries had stepped off of his private jet. He had arranged through the syndicate to come to this isolated planet for a while, they had smuggled him easily in, along with his bike and car, to some isolated place called Wisconsin. He had hated it… So, he took a jet rise searching for adventure and he had found it.
Black silk strands wavered around a tanned face, tresses caressing the broad line of his handsome jaw lightly. His sleek athletic build was not adorned in its usual expensive suit, no, on this day he wore fun clothing. Tight, thick leather that fit snuggly against his skin, a special back with zippered slats that could allow his wings to either be out, or discretely tucked away, in between a holder for his sword. His arm held the helmet especially made for him, the field of vision expanded to all that is possible for him to see, visually. But for some reason, he always felt it took something away from him…
A booted foot met heavily with the metal stair that led from the exit/entry portal of the high class plane, the cold air seeping through the seams and cracks of his attire, bringing to life the drowsy skin, chilling the duller and relaxation enjoyed while traveling, sparking something deep inside the man. A squeal caught his ears, a sound both familiar and different; it was the sound of an actual tire against asphalt. And to the right, a sleek black car revved its engine, peeling away as some girl stepped away from it.
The next thing Raziel had known, he was upon his motorcycle, revving the powerful hydrogen powered engine, the bike humming erratically under him, back tire sliding back and forth for one second before he short forward like a beam of light, it had a one minuet, thirty-four and fourteen hundredths seconds head start, going approximately 77 miles upon its passing him.
And now he was riding its tail, inching forward and to the side.
The bike edged slowly closer, expertly matching the speed at which the super-car steadily accelerated to. RAIVE had difficulty understanding the being on the bike; scanning the person completely revealed that he wasn't exactly human, and the bike itself was hydrogen-powered, powerful enough to reach up to RAIVE from stationary in a few seconds. The person did not seem to want to harm the car, or anything other than matching the speed.
Perhaps the man wanted to race? RAIVE did not understand thoroughly, but as long as the person did not cause harm to anyone or anything, the car decided to entertain him. It sped unto the street, narrowly maneuvering through a maze of traffic as soon as it left the runway. If the motorcyclist wanted to race, he would have to do it illegally. RAIVE began searching out gatherings of a specific kind in the city through its satellite linkup. There were a few, but the closest was just off the highway.
RAIVE smashed through a red light, skidding gracefully to avoid the oncoming vehicles as the rubber screeched on the highway. Paying no attention to the man on the exquisite motorbike, the touch-screen flashed, highlighting another song: "Jimi Hendrix - Fire".
Now dig this baby!
As soon as the music started, scratching sounds resounded throughout the interior of the car as the nanites on the body got to work, changing the colour of the whole thing from metallic black to a shimmering silver.
You don't care for me,
I don't care about that.
RAIVE haphazardly swerved unto a shoulder, taking a side-road downwards, off the highway. As it rolled downwards, the massive group of people below came into view. They stood under the highway, along with numerous rainbow-coloured cars that seemed to have had experience with tearing up the streets with their speed and style.
You got a new fool,
Hah, I like him like that.
It was noisy. All of the cars were revving their engines at the starting line, some shooting flames out of their exhaust, forcing people who gathered around to yelp and back away. The people themselves were noisy, running numerous bets on who would win and who would lose, or who would come in second or third.
I have only one burning desire,
Let me stand next to your fire.
A hush fell over the crowd as RAIVE rolled calmly up to the starting line. The drivers of the other cars stopped showing off as all heads turned to face the silver exotic with thick-tinted windows.
Hey, let me stand next to your fire,
Let me stand next to your fire! Oh, let me stand baby,
Let me stand next to your fire! Let me stand,
Let me stand next to your fire! Yeah baby.
Even the organizer of the race was stunned, taking a few moments to walk over to the car and knock on the window. For a second, the man grimaced, thinking that he had knocked too hard. However, the window did not go down. After another set of silent moments passed, the man shouted at the window.
"Are you here to race?!"
Listen here baby,
Stop acting so crazy!
RAIVE did not respond with voices, but instead, it revved the engine hard and loud, making the car's body shake vigorously. The man stumbled back as he looked in amazement at the shaking vehicle.
You say your mom ain't home,
It ain't my concern.
"I...I'll t-take that as a 'yes'." he stuttered, turning his head to the sound of another engine. The biker from the airport had reached the gathering. Whether he would race or not meant nothing right now, RAIVE was already at the starting line.
Just don't play with me,
and you won't get burned.
I have only one itching desire,
Let me stand next to your fire.
The yellowed lighting of hundreds of archaic looking motor vehicles shone brightly through the dark atmosphere of the inner city, the smell of their exhaust permeating the whole place, overlaying the smell of fire and the thick stench of burning rubber, each scent burned acidic in his olfactory. He peered sideways at the thickly tinted windows that seemed an extension of the rest of the car’s body, electric oculars trying in vain to peer in. He wished for a moment that he had inherited his parents’ telepathy, but then, the mystery driver pulled ahead, ramming their way through a red light, skidding elegantly out of the way of other vehicles. Damien accelerated, leaning heavily to the right, nuzzling against the side of a red SUV that spun sporadically, trying to avoid him, the metal that shone like crimson danced closer and closer spiraling inward.
A singe reverberating boom sounded, a fast as the crack of a whip. Speeding lead barreled into the tank of the green Mitsubishi, saffron blooming with the meeting of metallic spark and gasoline. The rear of the red SUV met with the front of a Lincoln. The crash of metal, glass, and fiberglass rang briefly before being swallowed by the drowning noise of the city. The gentle tinkling of glass across concrete followed, the light peal of thousands of bells, thousands of jewels breaking and cascading every which way. A single shard bounced upward, the waves of the break making the clear mineral appear as if it were frosted, the red of taillights reflected off its side. Whirling black collided with it, smashing it down, grinding it with a minuscule crunch that was lost in the heavy whirr of the complex hydrogen engine and the buzz of nanites meeting the ground, and their death, and being recreated. Its dust melting as the growing fire consumed the air around it, pooling in the cracks of the asphalt, singed by the blossoming of the flames as they erupted from the Mitsubishi and fed from the other two cars.
The dancing orange was reflected upon the back of the Angel’s helm, its heat grasping futilely at the leather which enclosed his night colored wings. The coolness of the dark streets embraced him, left hand pulling back the throttle further and further, while the right dropped the pistol back into its holster, the sleek bike slicing through the air. His avoidance of an accident had not only cost three or more people their lives, but him a few precious moments. The mystery car had a very considerable lead, and it appeared as if it was changing color. The front of the vehicle passing under a street light, a shining silver fading into black, that seemed as if it were receding. In a matter of seconds, 3.13 seconds to be exact, the whole body was the color of new steel. It turned off of the highway, weaving its ways through the side streets, its lead still considerable. It sped down a hill, and stopped at what appeared to be a street race.
A fervent grin spread its way, lupine in nature, across the Greco-Roman’s well shaped lips, pulling up next to his mystery car as a man walked away from it. Damien turned his head toward him, nodding twice before the Organizer had a chance to ask him if he was going to participate, revving the powerful engine of the motorcycle twice before peering down the line. He was the only one on a bike.
Everyone was silent, now. The two newcomers had completely outclassed the rest. The only noise that resounded in the atmosphere was the revving of engines. The other drivers' faces had lost their look of confidence, all drowned in the noise of two extremely powerful engines. The biker and the supercar were side by side, now. It probably felt as if the rest of racers didn't exist, only two of them and the road ahead did.
Probably felt that way to the biker, but RAIVE couldn't feel.
The organizer of the street race walked calmly in front of the starting line. He raised his arms into the air, signifying that he was about to let everything go. All the vehicles revved their engines loudly, none of the racers backed down. At this sight, the crowd began cheering them on, but most of the girls eyed the man on the bike, but all he seemed to care about was the race. His eyes were fixed on the road ahead which teemed with civilian traffic.
"Alright, listen up!" The organizer shouted, the noise died down, "You go through those intersections up ahead and stick to this road until you meet the turn-off onto the highway. When you get up there, you go one lap right around and then come back here. That's it."
The drivers nodded, RAIVE revved his engine hard in response.
The ruckus rose again. RAIVE sent it out to all of his four wheels, making them all spin at the same time, filling the air with the smell of burnt rubber and smoke.
The organizer dropped his hands. What happened next was inevitable; the rest of the vehicles were left at the starting line, the biker and the supercar taking the lead.
OOC: Sorry the post is so short for the wait. ^_^ Also, I am not sure if you wanna do the normal BA writing style or whatever, so I did not write in RAIVE's reaction. But, if we are doing that, be free to do so with Damien, and I will do so in the future. =D
BIC: As soon as the driver dropped his hands, the exact same moment the man’s hands started their descent, the booted feet of an Angel lifted from the ground, the hard black material reflecting the glare of the other vehicles as they shot to rest themselves surely upon the plates built into the side of the cycle. The Angel’s leather clad hand adeptly pulled the throttle back, releasing the brakes in the same moment, leaning his lithe body forward, the helmet ramming through the air with a dull whistle.
The steady purr of the bike’s engine, and the growling hum of his tires meeting asphalt were all that filled Damien’s hearing, his eyes tracing the drawl geography of the undercity, the broken down buildings and various onramps, it took him a moment, paying too much attention to what was directly in front of him that it was moments later that he realized that the mystery car, his obsession of current, was at his side, and nearly pulling ahead of him, his ears then filtered in the louder sound of its larger engine and tires. This aggravated him, immensely; the damned helmet was keeping him from taking in everything, hindering his senses.
Full dark lips pulled back in aggravation, as one hand left the handle bar, tugging at the straps that kept the protective helm upon his head, ripping at them, succeeding in loosening them enough so that he could grab the bottom rim, and wrench the thing off of his head, throwing it violently off of him, and in the direction of the Super Car, caring not if it hit the immaculate now silver body, hoping a little in his heart of hearts that the driver would be crash and die, and the heart of that heart knowing that if this car and its driver were worth the effort, they would dodge the helmet.
A wicked smile spread its way across his olive toned face, brilliant white teeth baring themselves to the gruesome wind that ripped across his skin, his mouth going instantly dry. But the Angel of Mysteries cared not, the troublesome helmet no longer inhibited him any longer, although it had been designed to not hinder him at all and had cost a pretty penny. It pleased him enough to be going fast, coming near where things would get interesting, whipping around a red sedan causing it to stop in its tracks, with the wind blowing through his raven ponytail. He just hoped that the car could keep up with him.