Post by Julie MacLelland on Aug 15, 2010 1:37:07 GMT -5
It was probably the strangest phenomenon to hit the desert highway that fateful summer. One soft, yet tough hand at twelve on the wheel, one astride the panda bear stick as it shifted into fourth gear, the driver leaned on the gas as though her bare foot was made of lead. Her orange hi-tops rested beneath her long, shapely, denim shorts-covered legs as she sped along at nearly 250 - and she wasn't slowing down. The desert was a blur as it whizzed past her, the top of her '60 'Vette down and her long, brown hair flying behind her. A grin on her face, her eyes sparkled behind dark shades that kept the blazing sun from blinding her. She would have been totally nude, for even someone used to hundred-degree weather didn't mind shedding as much as possible to escape it every once in a while, but that was frowned upon in cities and she hadn't felt like stopping to strip once she'd left the so-called 'civilized' world for the open road.
The Irish sounds of ''Dulaman'' poured out from the Infinity speakers Julie had installed to give her car surround sound, not rock n' roll as one might have expected from a classic car enthusiast, but there was no dog in sight. She'd left Tiponi in the care of her mother, who was helping her out by driving the U-Haul carrying all her stuff; carrying the gorgeous chocolate lab as well meant Julie's baby girl wouldn't be bouncing around in the car as it careened down the highway and she wouldn't have to wait around for Julie to get things done. That was, of course, the whole point of this trip: to get things done by the time her mother showed up in Pasadena. She'd get her accounts transferred over to the bank nearest her home there, pick up her California state driver's license and plates, make sure her mail was being forwarded properly and pick up anything she might need from the Post Office, get her tabs sent to her mail box at the new place, and then get something to eat - all of which would probably consume the two extra hours her mother would spend driving into town. It was a seven-hour trip altogether, but only about three hours the way Julie drove.
The beautiful hot-roddin' chick had left the reservation at around seven that morning; glancing at the electric clock on her dash, she noted as she returned her very pretty green eyes to the road that it was almost 10:30a, and that made her grin broaden a bit. She loved how fast her baby was, and she patted the dash as though she were saying hello to Tiponi. She'd have plenty of time to get some stuff done before her mother showed up, including finding the place. It was hers now, but she'd only seen a live virtual tour of the place; that seemed to be the thing to do of late, and because it was live and she was stubborn enough to tell the realtor where to point the lens or not buy the property, she'd seen pretty much everything there was to see. Now that the title was firmly in her hands, all she had to do was put it into a safety deposit box at the bank - but first, she had to get there. Fortunately, the city was coming up in the distance and she took her foot off the gas. She didn't see the need to hit the brakes yet, as cruisin' along at over two hundred miles an hour would give her a lot of leeway. It'd be a good ten minutes before she actually reached the city at the rate she was going, and she might as well avoid a ticket her first time in Pasadena. So she let herself coast down the road, the engine roaring as almost as loudly as Altan; she refused to turn down her music until she reached the city limits. It was her music and she'd listen to it as lout as she damn well pleased.
She passed a sign that read PASADENA - 5 MILES at about 220, but she didn't step on the brake until about two miles outside the town. She started seeing more frequent traffic not long after that, and she was down to seventy by the time signs on the buildings could be read. The speed limit changed just before reaching the city itself, of course, so she shifted down and slowed as she came up to the WELCOME TO PASADENA sign. The traffic was a bit heavy at the moment, but not as heavy as it probably had been earlier that morning. It wasn't quite the lunch hour, either, so there was plenty of room to drive. Time to see about things...
Julie had finally decided to quit torturing those around her with her beautiful Irish cassette. Well...actually, the tape had ended and she hadn't decided which one she wanted to replace it with yet. She now pulled up in the somewhat peaceful near-silence before her equally beautiful new home. She surveyed it for a moment before pulling around the semi-circular drive and backing into the garage, noting that the remote for it was on the floor just inside. Once she'd shut off the v12 and pocketed the keys, she retrieved the remote from the garage and the keys from between the branches of one of the bushes. The realtor hadn't understood the necessity of the keys' location, but the fact was that people were a lot likely to look under a rug or flower pot than in some bush out in the front garden. Julie was not a stupid girl.
The entry way was small, but there was a closet immediately before her and the living room was off to her left. Closing and locking the door behind her, she stepped into the living room and took a look around. Once she'd gone through the entire house, she stood out on the patio and took in the fresh Pasadena air. It was just like the schematic and the tour she'd seen. She liked it; it had a lot of room and her bedroom was hidden well away from any prying eyes. Besides that, the garage opened directly into the living room. She even had a place for her snow globe and magazine collections, a small room just off the dining room. She should get a computer and put that in there as well; she'd mostly used library computers and a one-terabyte external hard drive for anything she needed - mostly programs like Word and Excel. She wasn't too computer-savvy, but she did see their use on occasion. So yeah. She'd probably get a laptop, though, as she didn't like the idea of having such an expensive piece of equipment be so damn hard to move about. Besides, a laptop she could take anywhere. The only problem was that most computers came with built-in internet access nowadays, and she wasn't about to put herself out there for just anyone to see (yeah, she was old-school). But she'd ask innocently how it was connected and figure out how to prevent unwanted access from that.
For now, she walked back out to the front just in time to see the furniture being delivered. She'd timed this perfectly, it seemed; awesome.
After a long conversation with her mother, the old woman had insisted upon staying in a hotel. Fortunately, Tiponi had enjoyed the trip but was all too happy to see her best friend in the whole wide world once more: Julie, of course. So, at around six, she and her mother headed out to this Irish pub the old woman had spotted on the way in. Her mother also insisted on paying her own way for the evening and on the morrow, and then she'd be heading back to the reservation. But Julie was grateful for the company and the pair spent a couple of hours at that pub, just talking and eating. Her mother had a pint of Guinness and a couple of Millers, but Julie had never much been one for alcohol. When she finally got her mother into a hotel, they hugged one last time and she bid her mother farewell. Julie promised she'd call once she got a LAN line set up, and that she'd write occasionally (even if it was by snail mail). Her mother laughed at that, and then the pair were parted once more.
Deciding to explore the town a bit before she retired, she took Tiponi with her in the 'Vette and headed out on the town. Pasadena was a beautiful Californian city with its own cultures and subcultures, but if there was one thing it had that Prescitt* did not, it was an old-school race base - a place where racers used old-school methods to avoid the technological tracking of the modern era. It was the main reason she had chosen this place; she knew the signs and signals, and she knew how to find races where others would find only questions or the odd sound of a distant engine roaring somewhere in the night.
She found several hot spots (places where racers gathered late at night to discuss races, cars, and whatever else), but finally decided that it was time to start getting moved in. She could get some of the stuff in herself tonight, but she'd hire moving men tomorrow to help her get the rest in. She'd spotted the U-Haul satellite station here in town, so it wouldn't be a problem; she had the truck until 6p tomorrow night anyway, so that was plenty of time to unload and arrange. Her '62 Panhead and a '67 Firebird she'd won three days previous in a race would also be delivered tomorrow, the latter a car she intended to soup up much as she had her baby. That'd fetch her a lot of money she she was done, though it was mostly for the joy of modding and reselling it so she could buy yet another 'project' that appealed to her. She probably wouldn't be racing it. She'd gotten the car for free, but that didn't mean she wouldn't show it some love before she sent it off to learn to fly with someone else.
The garage door was just closing when she heard voices nearby. She'd moved onto a small piece of land with a huge backyard headed by a patio, but there were neighbors about fifty feet away. That was another reason she hadn't bothered switching cassettes when she'd finally showed up here for the first time. She'd turn the volume down tomorrow morning when she took off for a couple more errands. But for now, she wondered only briefly who it was that was outside talking at that present moment in time. But she'd make nice with the neighbors only if they made the first move; she wasn't here to make friends. She was here to race. That's why she gave most of her attention to Tiponi as she headed back toward the small, enclosed porch.
But though Tiponi was Julie's friend above all else, she was also an excellent guard dog. Julie had learned to listen to Tiponi when she was on about something, and the dog had now stopped to cock her head at a stranger walking casually up the drive in the evening light. She growled lightly, prompting Julie to put a hand on her head to steady her. Tiponi was nothing if not obedient, guard dog and friend or not.
“Can I help you with something?” the presently out-of-work mechanic asked of the stranger.
*((Some words are spelled in my posts as my character pronounces them. Prescitt is the locals' pronunciation of Prescott, Arizona.))
The Irish sounds of ''Dulaman'' poured out from the Infinity speakers Julie had installed to give her car surround sound, not rock n' roll as one might have expected from a classic car enthusiast, but there was no dog in sight. She'd left Tiponi in the care of her mother, who was helping her out by driving the U-Haul carrying all her stuff; carrying the gorgeous chocolate lab as well meant Julie's baby girl wouldn't be bouncing around in the car as it careened down the highway and she wouldn't have to wait around for Julie to get things done. That was, of course, the whole point of this trip: to get things done by the time her mother showed up in Pasadena. She'd get her accounts transferred over to the bank nearest her home there, pick up her California state driver's license and plates, make sure her mail was being forwarded properly and pick up anything she might need from the Post Office, get her tabs sent to her mail box at the new place, and then get something to eat - all of which would probably consume the two extra hours her mother would spend driving into town. It was a seven-hour trip altogether, but only about three hours the way Julie drove.
The beautiful hot-roddin' chick had left the reservation at around seven that morning; glancing at the electric clock on her dash, she noted as she returned her very pretty green eyes to the road that it was almost 10:30a, and that made her grin broaden a bit. She loved how fast her baby was, and she patted the dash as though she were saying hello to Tiponi. She'd have plenty of time to get some stuff done before her mother showed up, including finding the place. It was hers now, but she'd only seen a live virtual tour of the place; that seemed to be the thing to do of late, and because it was live and she was stubborn enough to tell the realtor where to point the lens or not buy the property, she'd seen pretty much everything there was to see. Now that the title was firmly in her hands, all she had to do was put it into a safety deposit box at the bank - but first, she had to get there. Fortunately, the city was coming up in the distance and she took her foot off the gas. She didn't see the need to hit the brakes yet, as cruisin' along at over two hundred miles an hour would give her a lot of leeway. It'd be a good ten minutes before she actually reached the city at the rate she was going, and she might as well avoid a ticket her first time in Pasadena. So she let herself coast down the road, the engine roaring as almost as loudly as Altan; she refused to turn down her music until she reached the city limits. It was her music and she'd listen to it as lout as she damn well pleased.
She passed a sign that read PASADENA - 5 MILES at about 220, but she didn't step on the brake until about two miles outside the town. She started seeing more frequent traffic not long after that, and she was down to seventy by the time signs on the buildings could be read. The speed limit changed just before reaching the city itself, of course, so she shifted down and slowed as she came up to the WELCOME TO PASADENA sign. The traffic was a bit heavy at the moment, but not as heavy as it probably had been earlier that morning. It wasn't quite the lunch hour, either, so there was plenty of room to drive. Time to see about things...
Julie had finally decided to quit torturing those around her with her beautiful Irish cassette. Well...actually, the tape had ended and she hadn't decided which one she wanted to replace it with yet. She now pulled up in the somewhat peaceful near-silence before her equally beautiful new home. She surveyed it for a moment before pulling around the semi-circular drive and backing into the garage, noting that the remote for it was on the floor just inside. Once she'd shut off the v12 and pocketed the keys, she retrieved the remote from the garage and the keys from between the branches of one of the bushes. The realtor hadn't understood the necessity of the keys' location, but the fact was that people were a lot likely to look under a rug or flower pot than in some bush out in the front garden. Julie was not a stupid girl.
The entry way was small, but there was a closet immediately before her and the living room was off to her left. Closing and locking the door behind her, she stepped into the living room and took a look around. Once she'd gone through the entire house, she stood out on the patio and took in the fresh Pasadena air. It was just like the schematic and the tour she'd seen. She liked it; it had a lot of room and her bedroom was hidden well away from any prying eyes. Besides that, the garage opened directly into the living room. She even had a place for her snow globe and magazine collections, a small room just off the dining room. She should get a computer and put that in there as well; she'd mostly used library computers and a one-terabyte external hard drive for anything she needed - mostly programs like Word and Excel. She wasn't too computer-savvy, but she did see their use on occasion. So yeah. She'd probably get a laptop, though, as she didn't like the idea of having such an expensive piece of equipment be so damn hard to move about. Besides, a laptop she could take anywhere. The only problem was that most computers came with built-in internet access nowadays, and she wasn't about to put herself out there for just anyone to see (yeah, she was old-school). But she'd ask innocently how it was connected and figure out how to prevent unwanted access from that.
For now, she walked back out to the front just in time to see the furniture being delivered. She'd timed this perfectly, it seemed; awesome.
After a long conversation with her mother, the old woman had insisted upon staying in a hotel. Fortunately, Tiponi had enjoyed the trip but was all too happy to see her best friend in the whole wide world once more: Julie, of course. So, at around six, she and her mother headed out to this Irish pub the old woman had spotted on the way in. Her mother also insisted on paying her own way for the evening and on the morrow, and then she'd be heading back to the reservation. But Julie was grateful for the company and the pair spent a couple of hours at that pub, just talking and eating. Her mother had a pint of Guinness and a couple of Millers, but Julie had never much been one for alcohol. When she finally got her mother into a hotel, they hugged one last time and she bid her mother farewell. Julie promised she'd call once she got a LAN line set up, and that she'd write occasionally (even if it was by snail mail). Her mother laughed at that, and then the pair were parted once more.
Deciding to explore the town a bit before she retired, she took Tiponi with her in the 'Vette and headed out on the town. Pasadena was a beautiful Californian city with its own cultures and subcultures, but if there was one thing it had that Prescitt* did not, it was an old-school race base - a place where racers used old-school methods to avoid the technological tracking of the modern era. It was the main reason she had chosen this place; she knew the signs and signals, and she knew how to find races where others would find only questions or the odd sound of a distant engine roaring somewhere in the night.
She found several hot spots (places where racers gathered late at night to discuss races, cars, and whatever else), but finally decided that it was time to start getting moved in. She could get some of the stuff in herself tonight, but she'd hire moving men tomorrow to help her get the rest in. She'd spotted the U-Haul satellite station here in town, so it wouldn't be a problem; she had the truck until 6p tomorrow night anyway, so that was plenty of time to unload and arrange. Her '62 Panhead and a '67 Firebird she'd won three days previous in a race would also be delivered tomorrow, the latter a car she intended to soup up much as she had her baby. That'd fetch her a lot of money she she was done, though it was mostly for the joy of modding and reselling it so she could buy yet another 'project' that appealed to her. She probably wouldn't be racing it. She'd gotten the car for free, but that didn't mean she wouldn't show it some love before she sent it off to learn to fly with someone else.
The garage door was just closing when she heard voices nearby. She'd moved onto a small piece of land with a huge backyard headed by a patio, but there were neighbors about fifty feet away. That was another reason she hadn't bothered switching cassettes when she'd finally showed up here for the first time. She'd turn the volume down tomorrow morning when she took off for a couple more errands. But for now, she wondered only briefly who it was that was outside talking at that present moment in time. But she'd make nice with the neighbors only if they made the first move; she wasn't here to make friends. She was here to race. That's why she gave most of her attention to Tiponi as she headed back toward the small, enclosed porch.
But though Tiponi was Julie's friend above all else, she was also an excellent guard dog. Julie had learned to listen to Tiponi when she was on about something, and the dog had now stopped to cock her head at a stranger walking casually up the drive in the evening light. She growled lightly, prompting Julie to put a hand on her head to steady her. Tiponi was nothing if not obedient, guard dog and friend or not.
“Can I help you with something?” the presently out-of-work mechanic asked of the stranger.
*((Some words are spelled in my posts as my character pronounces them. Prescitt is the locals' pronunciation of Prescott, Arizona.))
