Author's Notes: Part Two of "I Shouldn't Write at 7am without Sleep: the Novel" This entire chapter just accounts for things like the race structure, why certain characters are racing and some backstory, but it's mostly everyone taking hits at Rusty and Sofia because everyone already wants to at this point.
Also, this is a wall of text, and I'm so sorry. Combined with the previous chapter, it would've been 9 pages of content, so I just went ahead and split the two up. Language warning still in effect.
"This is Control, this is Control! All racers to the main hall! I repeat, all racers to the main hall!"
By now, the trains that were racing had all found their partners. Surprisingly, Canuck managed to get Flat-top to agree to a partnership, and despite everyone's hesitance to allow it, Rocky 2 agreed to race with Princey despite Ashley begging him last-minute to pick her instead so she could help get Sofia and Cassie out of the races. Now the trains were heading to the main hall later in the evening. Everyone knew what this was about: now that the teams were decided, it was time to decide the heats.
The structure of Apollo Victoria's races have changed over time, for various reasons from safety to including as many as possible. In recent time, the yard had agreed on a 2-by-x format; two deciding heats with open track slots ranging from 4-8. Since AV hasn't had as many racers competing in the past few decades, there wasn't a need for so many slots open (some years had as many as 12 slots open, and up to 3 heats to compete in!), but as the yard had opened their gates to international trains and the decrease in rail transport as a major form of mobility, the number had decreased and increased based on who was able to compete and show up. This year the open number of tracks for each heat was six, able to account for all engines that were racing and their partners.
"Can't wait to see what kind of disaster this year's gonna be" Rocky 2 whispered to Volta as they made their way to the hall. She, along with Joule and Buffy, were going to compete with their prior partners from the year before.
"Tell me about it," the freezer truck murmured between them. "Can't say I'm surprised about the smoker getting bumped out of having a partner by the 3rd-classer, but we've even got new coaches racing and the Canadian and British trains have partners. Manufacturer forbid this race even makes it out of the arena."
"I'm sure it won't be that bad!" Joule grinned, having taken hold of Volta's other hand and swinging it back and forth in joy. "We even have Wrench racing this year after all! It'll be just like that race at the Mannheim station 3 years ago!"
Rocky 2 blinked in surprise. "Really? Wrenchie, you race too?"
Wrench nodded, flanking Joule's other side as Joule clasped her hand as well. "On occasion. I was supposed to be Electra's partner last year, but I was still suffering from a technical problem I'd been dealing with for a few months before then. I pulled out thanks to a headache made worse by it, so that's pretty much why Electra took to inviting Pearl to race. We got it fixed afterwards, but I had to miss a few more races before I could return to the tracks."
"Ohhh, no wonder Electra didn't just ask you to race then," the boxcar nodded as they entered the hall. Inside, most of the racers were already present. Princey stood with the Nationals, laughing uproariously while the others stood trying hard not to just walk away rudely. Greaseball and Dinah stood nearby with Buffy and Flat-top, chattering and gossiping away. Over to the side, Snooky and Yana were idly talking to their engines, and not too far away Sofia and Cassie talked amongst themselves. Rusty sat alone on a bench near them, not really focused on anything. Poor dude, Rocky 2 thought to himself, dude's stuck in a grave he dug for himself, and now he's suffering.
"Looks like everyone's here?" Volta looked around, raising an eyebrow as she glanced over the crowd.
"Not quite," a voice spoke quietly behind them, making Rocky 2 flinch out of surprise. They turned to find Electra behind them, the scent of a clean shower run still wafting off him. "I ran a little late, I assume?"
"Only a little," Joule mewed, rolling to his side. "We just got here."
"About time, too!" Ruhrgold called out to them, beckoning them over with a wave of his hand. "We were wondering when you'd be here, e-lok."
"My apologies," the electric engine replied as the groups convened together into one. "I'm sure Control is still going over the list for now?"
"I imagine so," Espresso mused. "The race structure will work this year, but with Turnov out of the races, there's an extra slot open for anyone should we have another late entry come in."
Greaseball scoffed, his arms crossed as he shuffled his wheels. "I doubt it. Only free engine we have is Poppa, and there ain't no way he'd repeat the stunt he pulled last year."
"No kiddin'," Rocky 2 sighed. "Thought we were gonna have to run a funeral train here for the old guy!"
"Control's mentioned locking out the extra slot so we won't have to worry about a late entry," Hashamoto told them, looking out towards the doors of the main hall. "Apparently Poppa's entrance in was something of a paperwork nightmare to account for when everything was said and done, and his over-exertion only made things worse."
"Don't forget having to allow Mr. Champion over there in for the final," Flat-top grimaced, nodding ever-so-lightly towards the rusted steamer sitting alone by his new companions.
"That too. Clearly letting him race after all was more trouble than it was worth."
"Well, it was only fair," Dinah chided them, still bitter over Ashley's forced loss of partner. "Even if Control's a stingy man, Poppa had every right to name Rusty as his replacement… He only got hurt because someone decided to cheat." She gave a pointed look to Greaseball, whose eyes narrowed, before he cleared his throat.
"And even that added more paperwork to the problem," Wrench added.
Canuck whistled, still very new to the drama that the yard had been facing. "I can see why everyone was so against having him race in the first place.."
Joule flicked a lock of hair back behind her shoulder. "Well, he's a steamer of course! He should've lost to Electra in the final!"
"That was then, my dear dynamite child," Electra cooed, "but this is now. And there's much more to contend with."
"I sure hope that repair garage is ready for an influx of work, Wrench," Buffy sneered, trying hard to keep her temper down after her earlier outburst. "Cuz I'm ready to tear some trains apart."
"You and I both, buffet." Wrench looked at a watch upon her wrist. The time was six after 8'o'clock, pretty late in the afternoon. She had to finish prepping the other repair trucks for the day of the finals. Rather than working shifts like they normally would, any medical truck that wasn't on a run or racing was called to serve or be on call for the duration of the races; an all-day job that meant inspecting every racer, every partner, doing last-minute checks, and full repairs following races. it'd be a tough job, and Wrench hoped that the others would be able to take on the full load without her.
"So when's this guy gonna tell us what's going on?" León called out to the bigger group, the Spaniard shifting on his wheels as he grew impatient. "I'm ready to take my girl out for a run before the games get going!"
"Simmer down, Mr. Matador," Flat-top yelled back. "We're just as ready to race as everyone else is! You'll get beat soon enough!"
"Now hold on!" Yana stomped her foot. "Don't count your chickens before they hatch! The race can go in anyone's favor-"
"And it'll be in mine when the time comes!" The Spaniard laughed uproariously, making the library car sigh exasperatedly.
"Gettin' mighty full of yourself, huh?" Espresso nodded to the engine. "Let me guess.. You've raced maybe once in your life? Twice?"
"I'm a four-time champion of my country, Italian. You'd do well to remember that since you've not won once since coming here!"
Espresso's eyes narrowed as he became incensed, but Buffy quickly held him back. "At least he knew how to fill out the paperwork," she snarked back. "I hear someone forgot to put their name on last year's entry form, ain't that right?"
"At least he's got a coach that can move fast." The comment was made just loud enough to catch Buffy's attention. But the moment she heard it, Buffy's attention was turned to the coach that made it, and it became Espresso's turn to hold her back. But Cassie only grinned vilely at the coach, as smoke emanated from one of many cigarettes she had smoked while being in the hall. "Well, it's only the truth. If you wouldn't snack so much, then maybe your engine would be able to pull a lead place with you behind him."
"Ooooohh, come here and say that to my face, you stale-scented hag!"
The lounge car laughed bitterly as she made several strides towards the coach, who Espresso and Bobo struggled to keep under control. "Gladly! Bitch and moan all you want, but we all know who's going to win this year-"
Joule sped over from her place beside Electra, but was quickly held back by Ruhrgold as she struggled to climb over his broad shoulders. "Please, the Diesel has more of a chance of snatching you up from hell itself than Rusty does of winning!"
"Oh, I'm sure he'd love to get his hands on lil' ol' me-"
"Hey Rusty," Rocky 2 called out, looking towards him with a smirk on his face, "how about you come leash up this rabid mutt of yours? It needs to go back to the pound where it belongs!" Rusty looked up at the boxcar, but only waved him off. "Hey! I'm talkin' to you, dude!"
"Don't listen to them, Rusty," Sofia rolled to him, taking a seat beside him on the bench, "they're only looking to get a reaction from you."
"Well hell, is he so henpecked that he can't even get up and defend himself?!" Greaseball asked Dinah, still irritated by how the steamer had been acting. "I don't know how you put up with him, I swear to Manufacturer."
"Honestly, it's your guess as much as mine," Dinah sighed, rolling away from the group and taking a seat on a bench far opposite of Rusty and Sofia.
"Well, I guess it's a good thing after all that Pearl no longer has to deal with him!" Hashamoto snidely remarked, occasionally gauging whether they got a reaction or not. "It's quite sad when you can't even be arsed to defend yourself. Such a shame, I'm sure."
"Yeah, I bet Pearl's loving the attention she's getting from everyone," Bobo continued, despite Cassie glaring him down with the intensity of molten lava. "Maybe she's even getting calls from engines all around the country!"
"Sure, then everyone can see just how much of a tart she is!" This time, Sofia joined in, yelling it out loud enough for anyone to hear outside. "Rusty's better off without her, aren't you babe?" She looked eagerly to Rusty, who only looked away from the group towards the doors to the hall.
"Oh, well lah-dee-dah! I guess you two 'ave made it official," Flat-top hollered out, holding his arms up towards the ceiling. "Guess what, guys?! Rusty and Sofia are a couple now! Now everything's hunky-dory again!" The brick truck made loud smooching noises as he and Rocky 2 jeered and laughed, but it only served to make the steamer even more frustrated as he tried to ignore them.
"This is stupid," Dinah said to herself looking over the scene, but she looked towards Greaseball as she noticed him moving away from the group. His hand was on his head, him shaking his head as if something was loose.
"Well at least I can entertain him properly," Sofia called back, still riled up by the freight trucks' horseplay. "Everything's more exciting with a working-class girl!"
"Oh sure, if catching diseases is your form of entertainment," Volta spat back, trying really hard not to get too caught up in the fighting.
"And at least people like to ride with me! Rather than you nasty freight cars!"
"That's enough." Rusty snapped and turned back to face Sofia, and his words were sharp, catching Sofia off-guard. "Just keep quiet until Control gets back."
"Oh, he finally says something!" Rocky 2 threw his arms up in exaggerated relief. "Can you speak a little louder for us in the back to hear?!"
But Cassie grinned even wider, clearly enjoying the moment. "He said you're a fucking moron, boxcar-"
"Shut up and get over here!" Rusty yelled at Cassie, who only took a hit from her cigarette and turned back to the two. Rusty rubbed his temples, as fiercely pounding as they were. "Can't you two keep your mouth shut for a day? I'll be lucky if I make it out of this damn hall thanks to you two!"
"Well, they started it," Cassie replied back, cranky that her fun was cut short. "Cool your jets, Rusty. The races will be started soon enough, anyway."
"I know that." He didn't have to think hard on it, anyway. It was only the day before the races, after all. There wasn't any more time to think about it. And sure enough, he and Sofia had barely gotten any practice in.. Not that Sofia was even minding about the practice. She spent more time and concentration trying to talk to Rusty rather than actually trying to practice, which made Rusty think that they might actually be taken out in whichever heat they raced in.
The speakers above them blared into activity. "This is Control, this is Control-"
"We're already here, Control!" Greaseball yelled out, turning towards the large speakers that hung above the center of the hall. He was thankful for the interruption of the commotion, as his own head was throbbing at the moment. "Just tell us what we need to know and we'll get back to our units!"
"Keep your pants on, Greaseball, I'm getting there," Control replied back. "Obviously by now, everyone's aware of the race structure. We use a two-heat system here, with one final race to determine everything. We've got six slots open in each heat, with an open slot due to a lack of active engines. From each heat, top two racers will advance to the final; in the event of an advancing racer pulling out, those who placed behind them will advance to the next spot. Naming replacements will not be allowed this year, as we all saw how great that worked out last year."
Well it's not like I wanted that to happen, Rusty bitterly mused to himself. Control sure is taking his sweet time with this meeting..
"Before I call out track listings, I want to make sure everyone is aware of the tracks at the moment. They are fixed, according to county officials, but they will not let us practice on them in the morning, so for last-minute practice, the practice tracks are all we have open. Track listings will be posted outside on the clock tower message board, garage message board, and main hall message board. Any objections?"
Murmurs floated up from the crowd, but comments and complaints were kept to themselves; any longer here and it was more likely that someone would be torn to shreds.
"Good. Now, pay attention, because this is how you'll be allotted your turns on the practice tracks..."
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