(3018-01-12) Deal of a Lifetime
Summary: Zee has a strange encounter before the main racing event in Salian City
Date: IC Date

Not long until the big race in Salian City, all the top pros will be there and amongst the positions will be a few of the up and comers that have qualified. A few familiar faces, a few recognizable faces, media, fans with enough leisure saved up to be in the action area near the pits. All in all, there is that build around the track, that buzz of a big race coming. Not the level it will be at in a few days when the area is packed, but that humming drone of build up days before the big race. Amidst it all is a man in a bowler looking formal. Or non-descript business attire, not sticking out so much as looking non assuming (http://www.heavemedia.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/Jacques-dutronc_120419_1288022041.jpg +roll perception). Hands in pockets, he's simply observing as if waiting for someone. If Zee is about, he will take notice in her and begin to cross over grounds in her direction.

- Zee rolls her Perception (3D+0) for a total of 11 (Wild Die: 3), perhaps enough for a Moderate task.

She recognizes this man as the mysterious figure that had spoken with Axe during the qualifying heats.

Zee is here. Where else would she be? The thrill of the race is at hand, the race isn't today but there were others at the track and she was there to meet with a few people. When she looks around, because she always looks around, looking at the faces and places, she catches the familiar figure. She can't identify him exactly, not by name, but he did look familiar. Her expression settles into a guarded smirk and her posture stiffens a little as it's confirmed that he was approaching her.

As he moves, hands settle in pockets, as if casual. Though they come out, with a small cylinder, some vapor device that he uses to inhale a little, sending out smoke. A few puffs and they go back into his pocket just before he nears her. "Ms. Z," he greets, with a smile but the tone of his voice bends towards stoic and business. The name left vague, either her track name, or acknowledging he knows her last name in there. "I was hoping to catch you here, could I have a moment of your time?" Said with the tonality of nearly a demand for that moment, but not quite. Whatever he's on about, there's not clear indication he could enforce any such moment of time, even if he seems to want it, that falls under her dominion. A slight look off towards the pits, specifically the pit row garage her crew will station for the upcoming race as he waits. <English>

Of course curiosity gets the better of her, even if she's not too keen on speaking with /anyone/ at the moment. A scowl replaces the smirk and she shoves her hands into her pockets. "What's with all of the intrigue and mystery? Just spit out what you gotta say or quit wasting my time." She's surly, but why not? What else does she have to lose? Having been secluding herself from the crowds anyway, it's a convenient place to talk at the moment. There's no one else within ear shot at least. <English>

"Its not that easy," he returns firmly, about just spitting it out. Hands into pockets of his dark coat once more and he pulls out a small square device. "Put your wrist over this," clearly meaning the one with the OED, "It won't take anything, but we'll be sure to have five minutes." Not quite explanitive in that, but a start towards the mystery and intrigue, "I simply have an offer for you, take it or leave it, but the details are best left .. between us Ms. Z." Indicating he'll give more info but that necessity of his device interacting with her OED for some reason seems parcel to him being more giving. <English>

Now, OEDs can tell a lot, they are even health meters they are basically a computer for a body and a bank and pretty much everything imaginable. Even blood alcohol levels. At the moment that much is a moot point but the bigger concern is getting herself involved in more clandestine activities and getting sent to Jupiter. Much as she hated her life right now, she didn't want to go off planet, and so she hesitates. "What does this have to do with Axe Anderson?" The name is said with absolutely zero emotion and after a moment she just holds out her OED. "Fine." <English>

A slight brow raise form the man, though his features hold that look of indifference. "Nothing and everything," he explains as to the relation to Anderson. "No harm, its a personal EMP," he explains as she holds out her OED, and only after he pushes a button that causes a sequence of lights to flash on the surface of his device. Blue, green, and gold in some pattern. When it flashes two grin dots is when he gave the explanation. "I don't know or care about your relationship to Mr. Anderson. I'm here to offer you an invitation to a race next month. Off the record, we can't have your OED recording any of this." He holds up the small EMP device and pockets it, "Just a minor safety precation." For potential recordings it seems. "As you were," he considers, "Involved with his processing and reform to come, which has taken him out of this race." He turns to look more directly towards the track, "And your recent qualifying run, we thought it prudent to extend his invitation to you." <English>

"So you're telling me you can tell me something off the record without the OED recording it, and the discrepancy won't be noticed?" Zee shrugs, taking him for his word for now as she watches. "There is no relationship with Mr. Anderson." The words are said as if they are an expletive. Still, she falls silent to listen. At the mention to a race the following month she narrows her eyes slightly. "So if this is an off the record invitation, for an off the circuit race, I can imagine it's illegal to participate. You call it an invitation. Does that mean I can say no? If I say yes.." she tilts her chin. "What's in it for me?" <English>

"They system gets enough glitches all the time, they can't track down everyone," indicates the man. Maybe to suggest once or twice is fine, but if she got in the habbit of trying to turn it off, it might be noticed. That and he doesn't know if she has her OED recording or not, he just doesn't want any communications coming or going to her device while they talk. "You can say no, it is an honest invitation Ms. Z." He assures, turning back to look at her directly now, forgeting the track here. "It is illegal, we have removed some of the safety protocols of this track, the hazards are more," another consideration for the right word, "Real." Hands comfortable in pockets, he's not one that needs to move or fidget when talking, his body perfectly still. "It can be lucrative, what's it in for you depends what you want. A month off planet for leasiure, or some other allowance you'd prefer." The sort of thing that takes a little saving to reach. <English>

For someone with a death wish, the invitation was like a gift wrapped gun with a bullet in it. With her name on it. A fancy game of Russian roulette except doing a sport she loved. Looking at him, considering, she questions. "So what is the downside then?" Of course with the chances she already took it was apparent that she thrived on the thrill of danger. It sounded all too inviting and despite herself, she w as actually considering it. "Will it be televised from a remote location with names hidden to protect us?" The drivers that is. "I'd want it televised." Not her call, but still a preference. "How long do I have to decide what I want as my prize when I win it?" <English>

"Death of course," he offers, "With protocol removed, that is the risk." Injuries can be healed of course, modern medicine but usually one doesn't recover from death. He states it as simple fact. "It is televised via closed circuit relay. We have a few leisure resorts that are, off the record. Your identity will be protected if that is your preference, some of the riders prefer the patrons know who is riding. They find it easier to help on the regular circuit. The spoils of war Ms. Z." Meaning the tit-for-tat exchanges, as no sponsorships exist in the modern era, but there is some leverage of fame and some riders in this off the record circuit might use it to their advantage somehow, between the lines of his words. "We prefer to negotiate prize up front, to assure its mutually exclusive. Flat rate for racing up front, if you win you'llhave time to claim the prize you prefer within limits." <English>

"I'm too fast for Death to catch up with me." The words are murmured flatly with no inflection of tone. "I don't care who knows I'm riding at the race and the patrons there. They can bet on me all they want. Or not." So it was decision time. If Zee wanted to do it, she had to name the prize. Was there anything she wanted so badly? Something comes to mind though and she tilts her head. "I accept the invitation. I want in. You give out my name to whoever you want except the SPA. A man in their named Andrew Giordano will be the recipient of what I am going to ask for. I don't want a month of leisure, but I want 10 days for 3 people. That makes the amount of days 30 if added. Him, his daughter and a guest of choice, all expense paid trip to a destination of his choosing, likely an amusement area for his child. I would like him to have spending credits for the duration and an extra allowance for gambling and other vices during the time. Are you agreeable to this prize?" <English>

"Limited knowledge, no one outside of our patrons has access to our information," he indicates, "A patron can lose their privledges if they leak information." A secondary precaution, it was off grid, most likely a lot of illicit activity. Part of continued participation for patrons was that trust and security of such a sin city. "That can be arranged yes, three individuals, spending for the 10 days, other vices as desired. Its yours to give away Ms. Zee." A hand comes out of the pocket with that small EMP again, and he pushes a few buttons, it flashes some colors. "Two minutes left." Simply indicating. "The race is on the moon of Memes," a smaller moon of Saturn, only known for maybe a mining colony or two at present. "We will send you the details and arrange for your bike to be transported." He puts the device away again, "Anything you wish to know further?" As in, that prize is acceptable, and he's assuming she's riding in this race coming up. <English>

Listening to the further information, Zee accepts it with as much solemnity as the invitation requires. "I trust you to keep things on the up and up with this. Since the prize is acceptable, I have one more request to add in addition to the one already requested. When I win, I want the prize presented to him in such a way that he has no idea where it came from, other than he is a recipient of a prize, a drawing or sweepstakes. It is to remain anonymous." Her hand is not offered over to seal it with a handshake. This man, she figured instinctively, was not the sort of man who closed deals with handshakes. Actions and deeds maybe. "You have my information. I'll be there when the time comes and I'll put on a hell of a good show for you and your patrons. Count on it." <English>

A slight pause, even for the stoic man, he gives a slow nod. "Fair enough. Sometimes we create our own ghosts." That could be taken a number of different ways and it seems like the man is not interested in explaning. "I am counting on it. Good day Ms. Z. Best of luck in your race here." Its more as if the words are simply given, best of luck, as if he doesn't prescrive to luck or random fate or chance. That or he's just not concerned with it. No hand offered, the words and exchange seem deal enough. Trust given to her to show up, trust in him to deliver payment and prize. Not even a curt nod after his words he takes his eyes from her and looks off towards other garages and sections of the pit, his feet move to take him there. <English>

Watching him go, Zee starts her mind working, trying to clear through the fog. A month. 30 days to get her affairs in order and clear out her apartment. If she had considered how her life would end, it wouldn't have been on a race track at all. Her lips twist in a little smile and she tilts her head back a little, towards the heavens. "Mama's coming." With that said, she heads off to do all the things that are now adding to the list in her head, and she pulls up her OED to take a few non-descript notes in list form. <English>

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