Part 1:
Boredom and a bad day

Rheanon was not having a good day. Technically it had been a very bad series of months, but today had come a close second in her series of bad times. For the precursor turned elfin-human, the city of Kras had become her least favorite place.

Hence the reason she was going to try and drink herself into oblivion and not care about the next few hours.

The mostly blue-tinted white hair fluttered out behind her, a testament to her swift walk. Only the most observant would have seen the violet-black strands hidden within the white. As she made her way to one of the more… reputable bars, Rhea reflected on the past three months in the city that she had come to dislike with such fervor.

The fight she’d had with her teammates still topped her list of bad days, and the part she found most irritating was that she still had no idea what had sparked the argument. It had just been a simple discussion, that had led to shouting and anger. The result had been Rhea deciding to vacate the premises for a few weeks and allowing everyone time to cool off.

Second on the list was the sabotaging of her car, a much pampered, heavily modified Road Blade that had taken her ages to fit to her specifications. After leaving the Garage where her friends were, she’d gone out and won a few drag races to cool her head. So she’d won two weeks straight. But because she had needed the money for the part to repair her car, she’d been forced to take a job at the E-5 garage.

That was the third thing. Working with Miico, Kush, Tere, and Thai pushed her patience to the limit. And that was a feat in itself, since Rhea had more patience than most of her friends put together. But she was also a Wastelander and a mechanic in her own right, with more experience than the four.

When she walked into the bar, she took a swift look around, checking out people and the state of the bar. Leather covered seats in the booths and barstools raised her estimation of the place up a notch, and she headed right for the bar. Sliding onto a stool she order one of the cheaper drinks in the bar. After handing over the money Rhea frowned at the bottle that was placed before her, orange eyes not seeing it

‘I’m running low on money,’ she mused. ‘And I have yet to be paid….’

The bartender took one look at her glaring orange eyes and took himself off to the other end of the bar. Rheanon nodded grimly, a little pleased, opened the bottle and took a drink.

With a grimace, she placed the bottle back down and reached for the canteen of water at her side.

- - -

Razer was bored. There was no doubt about it. The next race wasn’t for another two weeks, and even toying with Jak and his friends held no interest. It didn’t help that it had only been a week since the veteran racer had heard about Erol’s death Truthfully, not much held an interest for him beyond finding the bottom of the bottle and the oblivion of sleep.

When the bar door swung open and the young woman walked through, he half turned to watch her. The girl’s eyes were a burning angry orange, glittering dangerously from under almost invisible blue-white brows. Her hair was the same shade of blue-white, but Razer noticed idly that strands of purple-tinted black were also in evidence.

The green-eyed man took a drag an his almost-spent cigarette, trying to recall where he had seen her before.

Ah yes, that was right… She was part of Jak’s team. The girl had never spoken to him directly, but he had seen her lurking just out of range, as though she might have wanted to say something, but was too timid.

From the flicker of fire in her eyes and the tense way she walked, Razer assumed that she’d been having a rough day. A fight perhaps. She certainly had the look of the spurned.

She slid onto a stool near him, apparently not noticing her teams greatest rival, and ordered a particularly bad drink. His brows raised, impressed that she had even been able to take a drink, and he almost chuckled at the expression she made, and reached for something at her side.

Razer tilted his head slightly, studying the girl. His boredom might have just come to an end with her arrival.

“You really should try for some of the more expensive stuff,” he commented.

- - -

Rhea jerked slightly, surprised that someone was talking to her. She tilted her head fractionally to the right, and saw a glass of an amber liquid pushed in her direction.

Following the glass back to the original owner, her eyes widened fractionally as she saw just who was sitting near her. Razer, Mizo’s prized racer was offering her a drink. She saw a shadow of a smirk cross his lips as she accepted the glass.

“Ah… Thank you,” she murmured.

The green-eyed man signaled the barkeep for another drink, while Rhea lifted the glass to her lips and took a drink. She found herself admitting that it did taste much better than what was in the bottle. At the same time she was wary of the gift, and the racer. After all, Krew had gotten her friends with poisoned wine.

Then again, Razer should have known nothing at all about that. She hoped at least. If he did, things could suddenly become very problematic.

‘Still, why would he know?’ she asked herself. ‘No one on the team has said anything about the poison, and I’m doubting that Mizo tells his subordinates everything he does…’

She took another drink and turned her thoughts away from her friends and their fate. Rather rebelliously, her mind returned to the problem that had made her want to drink in the first place.

‘Forget them,’ she decided. ‘It’s not my fault, and it’s not my problem. The useless idiots can take care of themselves without my help.’

She was pulled out of her thoughts by a minor scuffle to her left, and sharp voices raised in anger. Irritated, she twisted about on her seat and cleared her throat pointedly. Once the duo was looking at her she gave a razor-thin smile and spoke.

“Do you mind?” even her voice was soft, dangerously so. “Some people are here to enjoy a quiet drink. Take your argument somewhere else.”

Her orange eyes flickered a silent warning. The pair swiftly took themselves out of the bar.

- - -

Razer raised an eyebrow at the girl as she turned back to face the bar.

There had been such ice in her voice it was a wonder that the rapidly fleeing pair hadn’t frozen to death on the spot. Still, it would take more than that to deter him.

“That was not very nice,” he said. “Honest, but unpleasant.”

The burning orange eyes focused on him for a moment, losing some of their fire as she shrugged.

“I’m not exactly in the best of mood,” was the tart reply. “Otherwise I might have tried being more tactful.”

The fire faded into thoughtfulness as the girl took another sip of the amber liquid.

“Maybe. I enjoy peace and quiet, since I get it so rarely. This place is built for the ambience too.”

She was more and more intriguing, Razer mused. The rapid switch from annoyance to calmness was as fascinating as the shifting colors of her hair.

“Likewise,” his voice was amiable. “Oh but where are my manners? My name is Razer. And you are?”

There was a flicker of swiftly hidden emotion in her eyes. Distrust maybe? Or fear..?

“Rheanon,” she said after a long moment. “Or, Rhea if you’d prefer.”

- - -

The precursor-turned-human was wary. This was her teams enemy, a rival racer. Getting too familiar with him might get her into trouble. They both stood out, her with her light-and-dark eco-esque hair couple with her orange eyes, him with his dangerous and deadly reputation… and his track record on the race tracks.

Thinking about the races brought her mind stubbornly back to what had driven her away from E-5 and the reason why she wanted to drink herself under. A faint frown crossed her face.

“Rheanon,” Razer had elected for her full name. “That is an odd name. Foreign, even to me.”

He chuckled, took a drink and tapped an unlit cigarette against the glass.

“None of my business I suppose.”

Inwardly Rhea gave a sigh of relief. Perhaps the night would end better than the day had.

“Still,” Razer had to smile as the girl flinched. “May I ask what has you so upset tonight Rheanon? It is written all over your face.”

He lifted the cigarette to his mouth, lit it, and inhaled. The smoke that streamed from between his lips when he exhaled hung in the air like words that could never be taken back; like a thousand insults or a hundred apologies; like a fight between lovers or a battle for humanity. He loved the smell and smirked slightly when he caught it.

Rhea considered him out of the corner of her eye, then gave a mental shrug. He seemed sincere enough…

She ran a slim hand through her hair, and let out a soft, but irritated sigh.

“Just…. A problem  where I work. They deiced to blame it on me,” despite her attempts at control, a hard edge crept into her voice. “I wasn’t near that car when it exploded. Wasn’t even in the garage. I was sent out to attempt to barter parts from a nearby store..”

She shook her head and swirled the amber liquid in the glass, before setting it down on the bar with a soft clink. Rhea gave another sigh, this one tinged with disgust.

“If I wasn’t so low on money I’d quit,” she grumbled under her breath. “Stupid hazing jackasses…”

Razer took another drag on his cigarette, exhaled and was silent for a long moment.

“You know, I am quite bored at the moment,” he watched her out of the corner of one vibrantly green eye, “Is there a chance you might be able to.. Say, introduce me to these colleagues of yours? I am certain they would help me pass the time.”

It had been a good long while since he’d been able to use his beloved butterfly knife, and while he would draw it on whoever Mizo ordered him to, he preferred to limit his physical attacks to the more careless individuals of the city. Lesser criminals who thought they were the next best thing, men hazing young men --or women in this case-- when the person in question clearly didn’t want the attention, and the occasional fellow racer who trod to heavily on his nerves.

Apparently there were some mechanics that were treating a young woman very badly, and they would do to alleviate his boredom.

Razer wasn’t a bad person, not by a long shot, but he was a criminal. And if he could use his status in the painfully-public crime world of Kras, so be it. The contact of his gloved fist against skin had always served to cheer him up in the past, why not now?

He didn’t miss the flash of suspicion that crossed Rheanon’s orange eyes as he tilted his head from side to side, popping his neck.

“Unless of course, you have a problem with going into work tomorrow to meet a myriad of rearranged faces.”

Rhea coughed slightly, to hide the chuckle that threatened to slip out as she considered the offer.

‘I can’t do anything to them… the job pays for the parts to repair the car. He can though.’ she frowned slightly in thought. ‘Even if it’s only because he’s bored… it is a nice sentiment.’

She traced the rim of the glass, a faint smirk replacing the frown.

‘It would serve them right…’

The thoughts swam around in her head, and as she weighed the pros and cons, the balance within her shifted subtly. The purple-black strands of hair slowly started to increase in appearance as she made her decision.

“Miico, Tere, Kush, and Thai…” she tapped her lip in thought. Where would they be at this time of night…? Ah, right… “Knowing them they’ve probably abandoned the E-5 Garage by now…. They do as little as possible and get away as early as they can. More likely than not, they’re down by the docks at the drag races. Probably racing with the cars they were supposed to have repaired.”

‘And at this point they’re probably drunk off their sorry asses and losing pitifully,’ her thoughts were filled with derisive scorn. ‘They’ll never be true racers.’

Rhea was startled to see Razer’s eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline.

“E-5?” He asked. “You’re talking about the E-5 Idiots?”

He rolled his green eyes and gave a light chuckle, running his freehand over his face as the sound ricocheted behind his lips.

“I’ve had Shiv over there three times in the last six months to re-educate them for trying to sell my team faulty parts!”
He laughed outright, but the sound was short-lived, and within a few seconds he was silent again, turning around and bracing his feet on the floor impropriation to stand.

“That was bad enough, but to treat a lady so…” he clicked his tongue in disapproval. “Honestly, I wonder why some of them are still alive.”

Rhea gave a faint smile of agreement. The dark-haired man stood, then spun lightly on one heel --almost like a dancer-- and extended one hand to the girl. The startlement on her face widened his already dangerous smile.

“Would you like to come watch? I am certain you could find a nice spot where they will not see you.”

The smile was dark, but genuine, and after a few moments of thought, a slight, but wicked grin slid across Rhea’s face in response.

“I think I shall,” she replied, accepting the offered hand.

She did not expect his grip to tighten or to be pulled off her stool, spun around and pulled tight to the other racer. He grinned down at her in a fiendish manner, pleased by her surprise.

“Let’s go re-arrange some ugly face then.”

He still held tight to her hand, and as he pulled back, Rheanon was tugged along behind and they left the Bar.