"Drive faster, not slower, Manlius! Boylius would be a better name with how you handle that tiny fucking spear!" Vol's loud jeers carried an incredible distance, prompting roars from the surrounding spectators as the race continued.
Mina giggled again, as she had so many times since they'd returned to the lower track to watch a few races before hers. While her expression had been one of worry and anxiety at the start of the first race, she'd been swept away by Vol's boundless enthusiasm, which seemed to last exactly until the older woman lost interest, at which point the sentiment changed into something else entirely.
"How'd this fucking idiot even find the track?" Vol exclaimed, gesturing to Manlius Flavinius Macro, whose car was in seventh place out of ten racers. "Urgh, I can't believe I bet on him," she grumbled as she sat back down.
"How much was your wager?" Mina asked.
"I don't remember, it was a while ago. I got into an argument and threw a bunch of marks at the bookmakers."
"An argument?" Carl repeated, already bracing himself to laugh. It's like everything she does is totally in the moment based on whatever she feels like doing. Doesn't even care what anyone else thinks or does in response. Except us, I guess, since we're hanging out today. Kinda lucky in—
"He propositioned me, but his calves were disgusting. Urgh, so gross." Vol made a face like she was gagging. "Was like he was walking around on a pair of old sausages."
Carl took a long blink. "What."
"Yes, I believe I'd echo that sentiment," Mina said.
Vol, sitting on the opposite side of Mina from Carl and leaning in to talk over the noise of the crowd, raised her left leg a little and rolled up her pant leg. "This," she said, pointing to her bronzed, sculpted calf, "is a calf muscle. A fucking great one, if I'm gonna be honest. Calves are part of your leg."
"I know what a freaking calf muscle is."
"Then what more's there to say?" Vol asked as she rolled her pant leg back down. She glanced out at the track. "Urgh, lower track's worse than I expected," she grumbled. "Mina, you could win this with your eyes closed."
"But if you could return, just for a moment, to your previous comment," Mina said, appearing both confused and amazed, "am I to understand that your—"
"I like good legs," Vol said firmly.
"And had this gentleman possessed…more enticing calves…"
"Could've taken me even longer to get back here before the races."
Can't tell if she's joking or not. But it's Vol, so… The more ridiculous thing is if she's not joking, so that's probably the case.
"I see," said Mina. She gave Carl a look. "Well…"
"I'm joking, obviously," Vol said.
"Oh!" Mina gave a relieved sigh and started to laugh a little. "I'd thought—"
"He was ugly too, so the calves weren't as much of a decider."
Carl started to laugh. There it is.
"The other bookmaker, though, had some great legs," Vol said in a wistful voice. "She was wearing a battle skirt and obviously still keeps up with her training. She said she wasn't interested, otherwise I would've—"
"Vol." Carl gave her a stern look as the conversation veered off into what he expected was going to be explicit detail.
"I'm quite capable of listening to what Vol was planning," Mina said, showing a cute frown.
"We'll keep it between us girls, then," Vol said before she leaned in and started whispering into Mina's ear.
"Oh my!" Mina said after a moment. "You'd have asked her to dinner?" She gave Carl an outraged look. "How scandalous!" She started to giggle almost immediately.
"Pretty sure that's not what she said," Carl grumbled.
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"Yeah, yeah, yeah!" Vol shouted through her cupped hands, hopping up and down. "Go, Festa! Yes!"
"Yay, Festa!" Mina shouted while clapping, having gotten caught up in Vol's excitement.
Caerellia Festa's car crossed the finish line, and she pumped her big club in the air to rile up the crowd.
"That one was exciting," Vol called when she took her seat again and stretched her legs out to the side, having somehow managed to encourage the group of four sitting to her right to vacate their seats so she could recline and lean the back of her head on Mina's shoulder when she wasn't on her feet cheering.
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"Yes, it seemed that Festa had put considerable efforts into her driving technique," Mina agreed. She looked down to check her watch. "Carl, I believe it's approaching the time when I'm expected to prepare my steamcar." She looked up at him, her forehead faintly crinkling with anxiety.
"Okay, better get down there then," Carl said. He pushed himself to his feet.
"I'm coming too!" Vol said.
"I'm only permitted a single mechanic in—"
"Nah, I'll be your physician, obviously," Vol cut in. "Let's go!"
"You're capable of—"
"Nah, but how the fuck're they gonna know?"
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"You're gonna do great, Mina," Carl said. He gave her hair another ruffle for good measure.
"Got your number one admirer right here," Vol added from the side, gesturing to herself.
Mina shifted nervously on her feet.
"Gonna have to celebrate after!" Vol said, the look in her eyes indicating that she was probably thinking about that in some detail already.
"You can do this," Carl said, once more reaching Dad Mode Four in order to provide a little extra reassurance.
The blonde girl took in a deep breath and let it out. "Yes. Yes, I surely can," she said, nodding to herself.
"It's just driving," Carl added.
"Yes, it's merely driving about," Mina agreed.
"DRIVERS TO YOUR CARS! CLEAR TRACK!" shouted the announcer.
"Whose track is this?" Carl asked.
Mina's brow furrowed. "Once I've triumphed in this race, the track will be mine."
Carl squeezed her shoulder. "I'll be right over here."
"I REPEAT, CLEAR TRACK!" the announcer yelled.
"WAIT UNTIL WE'RE FUCKING DONE!" Vol shouted back, generating a small bout of laughs and boos from the nearest spectators.
"I'll do my utmost," Mina said. She darted forward and gave him a quick hug, then moved back and sat in the driver's seat of her car. She waved before closing her door.
"Okay, but now we need to move," Vol said, gesturing back to the area where the other mechanics and hangers-on were standing around next to the track.
Carl reluctantly followed her while feeling like he could've been doing something more to help out but simultaneously being unable to think of what it might be. Just ten laps. Not that hard. She's already done hundreds over the past couple days. He crossed his arms as he kept his eyes on Mina's car in its position in the middle of the pack of nine other cars.
"Relax," said Vol. "In a little while she'll be jumping out of her car, lost in the feeling of her first victory, and she'll be thinking only of how best to celebrate."
Carl sighed. "Yeah, you're probably right."
She patted him on the shoulder. "Trust me, it's my city. Isn't it exciting being here for Her Majesty's first race before she gets too fucking famous to even spend time with? I'm gonna go talk to the other mechanics for a while. Can't pass up a chance like this." She set off towards the cluster of people milling about. "Hey, losers!" she called out as she approached.
Carl chuckled despite himself. I really should relax, I guess. Her car's pretty sturdy, and she's fast enough that she can probably finish all her laps before anyone else is even halfway done. Though the safer way would be—
"DRIVERS, READY!" boomed the announcer.
Carl scanned the other cars. To a one, they were open-topped. A few of the cars had the driver's seat on the right side. A number had armor plating in various places, most notably around the driver's seat. Some drivers wore armor, a couple even wearing helmets in addition, while some others didn't even have shirts.
"ONE!" The crowd shouted along.
"TWO!" A bare-chested man to the side of the starting line waved his big flag from side to side.
"THREE!" The man with the flag raised it in the air, the drivers took off, and the crowd roared.
Unlike real racing, which Carl was only vaguely familiar with and did not watch regularly or even semi-regularly, this race began much more slowly. The cars bounced and jostled each other as the drivers struggled for advantage while also struggling to even reach speeds that were the legal limit to drive on highways in the real world. They didn't seem to be accelerating too far past that point, either, which had also been the case in previous races they watched. The track wasn't small, but it also wasn't huge; it still took some time for them to reach the first turn.
Carl's fingers dug into his arm. Mina's blue car had been rammed into a number of times, but she seemed unfazed, continuing to veer towards the outside of the track despite everyone else gravitating towards the inside. Once she was free of the pack, she made her move.
Halfway around the first curve, Mina's car began to accelerate. She swung around the track, taking the handicap of a longer path in exchange for the freedom of movement. Seconds later, she'd assumed a clear lead over the rest of the cars and swerved back to the center lane.
"GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO MINA!" Carl bellowed.
Nobody cheered louder than Carl Weathers.
Mina's lead continued to grow swiftly, and she passed by his spot shortly thereafter, her face frozen in concentration. She zipped across the start line to complete her first lap, and the crowd erupted into a cacophony of noise.
"—so fast!" the announcer yelled once Carl stopped ignoring him. "I've never witnessed anything like it. Truly we've been blessed on this day, victory-seekers! Is a new legend about to be born? Will the mysterious Mina find a new victory by shrugging off the strikes of her opponents and simply driving around them? We'll see what happens once the drivers bring their weapons to bear after the customary first lap of peace is completed!"
She reached the rear edge of the pack of cars once more as they neared the starting line, weaving back and forth in an attempt to find a gap her car would fit through. She found it just after crossing the line again and the weapons began to come out.
"Mina suffers a direct stab to her front tire by the spear of Memmia Fima! It seems to have had no effect! Do I dare believe my eyes? She must be favored by Sateus on this day, fellow victory-seekers!"
Carl had both hands in the air and was cheering as loudly as he could.
Mina sped up and rammed into another car as it entered the curve, and it fishtailed wildly, with the driver losing control of his car after a moment and skidding off the track.
"Servius Caesulenus Praetextus is the first to fall on this day! His admirers from D-four who thought his points in—"
"Carl," Vol interrupted, slapping him on the arm. "Mina's not gonna win."