Slaglands

context

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Context

This document details context for GASLANDS and SLAGLANDS. Gaslands is tabletop miniature game. SLAGLANDS is our homebrew local in-fiction gaslands league set in the ruins of St. Louis, Missouri. In this document is:

  • The lore of Gaslands and its sponsors, taken from the Gaslands rulebook
  • The lore of our local Slaglands clubs, each of which represents a sponsor in our league.
  • The lore of each individual vehicle/driver in our local league.

When creating lore for a local Slaglands club, it can reference organizations, businesses, or people in St. Louis. For example the Metro Transit Co-op is based on the St. Louis Metro mass transit system, and Rebar customs is on Reevis Barracks road, a real place in the greater St. Louis area. This should be paired with and themed to the corresponding Gaslands sponsors. In this case Metro Transit Co-op is loosely similar to Gaslands Elite Tours, and Rebar Customs is the Slaglands version of Verney. This isn’t required, though — for example see the Japanese Culture Appreciation Society, a parody of obsessive anime fans.

The tone is tongue-in-cheek, but not over-the-top-absurd. For example Temple Valencia drives and orange car, and her name references oranges (the fruit). MFP Biggalo is a fan obsessed with Mad Max movie franchise. But none of the vehicles are cartoonishly absurd.

Using Puns or references as driver names is acceptable, but should be used with constraint.

Some other driver references for an idea:

  • Viceroy is based on Miami vice - it’s the type of car one of the main characters drove, and the Viceroy’s driver’s name is derived from the names of the main characters on that show
  • Defender is based on the Viper TV show.
  • The driver of Sandstorm is a real person and the idea of a baja porsche is something he created
  • Arfling is a reference to Star Fox and the Arwing, including the name of the engineer and the idea of the “G-Diffusion system.”

GASLANDS

This section contains the canonical Gaslands setting from the Gaslands Refueled rulebook.

Gaslands Timeline

The year is 2018. Earth has been under Martian occupation for 19 years. The war left much of Earth destroyed and its population enslaved by the corporations of Mars and their relentless efficienc .

Earth is a ghetto. All money goes to Mars. While some resent those that betray their fellows to work for the Martian corporations, many simply cannot afford ideals.

The Internet is gone, but television continues under the global control of The Network: a nest of greedy and traitorous Martian collaborators. The Network’s executive producer and chief anchor man, David Logan, is responsible for its line-up of ultra-violent blood sports and gas-guzzling death games.

The jewel in The Network’s crown is Gaslands: broadcasting amateur and professional death races from across the world as teams battle for a place in the prime-time international final

This spring Logan is offering a prize unique in the ten-year history of Gaslands. A one-way ticket to Mars. Escape from the broken and crumbling Earth to make a new life in that haven of the rich and happy.

The deadliest death races! The wildest half-time extravaganzas! The craziest audience participation! Everywhere David Logan’s executive intervention can be felt. His vision is simple. This year must be the most spectacular Gaslands season yet. Gaslands. Every Tuesday and Saturday night, 21:00 Central Mars Time.

Gaslands Sponsors

RUTHERFORD

Grant Rutherford is the son of a militaristic, American, oil baron. He is aggressive, rich, and uncompromising. His beaming face, beneath his trademark cream Stetson, adorns billboard advertisements for his high-quality and high-priced Rutherford brand weaponry. Teams sponsored by Rutherford gain access to military surplus, missile launchers, tanks, helicopters, and as much ammo as they can carry. After his team won in 2016, he was only too happy to kiss the Earth goodbye and now runs his company from his, highly exclusive, Martian office.

MIYAZAKI

Yuri Miyazaki grew up in the rubble of Tokyo, fighting her way to the top of the speedway circuit with incredible feats of daring and vehicular agility. She has a small fleet of elite couriers who run jobs for the wealthiest or most desperate clients. It is whispered that she also runs guns for the Pro-Earth Resistance, but no one who spreads that rumour lives long enough to spread it far. Miyazaki’s drivers are unsurpassed in their skill and finesse.

MISHKIN

Andre Mishkin is not a natural sportsman. However, the brilliant Russian engineer and inventor proved in 2010 that technology is just as solid an answer as skill or ferocity on the track. From his research and development facility on Mars he continues to send designs for unusual and devastating weapons and sleek, hi-tech vehicles to Earth for field-testing by the teams he sponsors.

IDRIS

Yandi Idris was an addict. From the first time the hot and sweet fumes of a singing petrol engine filled his nose he could find no other joy. He said that the first time he pressed that nitro-oxide button was like touching the face of God. Mystical, irrational, and dangerous, the Cult of Speed spread like wildfire after Idris’ meteoric rise during the 2012 Gaslands season. He crossed the final finishing line in a ball of fire and his body was never found. His fanatical followers say that at 201mph you can hear his sonorous voice on the rushing head wind.

SLIME

Slime rules a wild and feral city in the Australian wastes known as Anarchy. Young people crawled out of the wreckage of the scorched earth in their thousands to rally round her ragged banner. The wild-eyed and whooping joyful gangs of Anarchy are led by Slime’s henchwomen, the Chooks, who seek fame and adoration from the global Gaslands audience.

THE WARDEN

Warden Cadeila is proud to live in São Paulo, a shining hub of humanity and relatively untouched by the war. The São Paulo People’s Penitentiary has produced three of Gaslands’ top ten teams in the past decade, and the Warden continues to grant her prisoners a chance at freedom as long as the Gaslands franchise continues to deliver the sponsorship deals. The deal isn’t great for the damned souls who are welded into the Warden’s solid steel “coffin cars”, but it’s better than the alternative.

SCARLETT

Gaslands is able to support a vast ecosystem of villainous and scurvy raiders, picking off richer teams as their rigs roll from one televised race to the next. Many of these self-styled pirate crews have gained renown, but none have rivalled the infamy or showmanship of Scarlett Annie. A dashing and flamboyant buccaneer, her cult following is likely more to do with her canny association with the long-running “Death Valley Death Run” documentary TV series than any particular skill at dust bowl piracy.

HIGHWAY PATROL

Along the Wrecked and broken highways, where law is another word for vengeance, and justice is a forgotten memory; a handful of souls still cling to a dream of order. Perhaps they do it for the glory. Maybe they even get a kick out of it. They are unsanctioned, unloved and unpaid. Their only power: a badge of bronze. Their only weapon: 600 horsepower of fuel-injected steel. The Highway Patrol are the last law in a world gone crazy.

VERNEY

Many have taken the bent deal offered by Warden Cadeila but only one has ever earned their freedom. As skilled an engineer as he is a driver, the newly-freed Verney now specialised in building unique Frankenstein’s monsters of vehicles for anyone who can afford his high-quality customs.

MAXXINE

Maxxine is the current grease-smeared face of The Black Swans. While many might assume art to have been the last thing to survive the Martian bombs, The Black Swans dance their mechanised masque for a hypnotised audience. It’s ballet, but the dancers weigh 4,000 pounds and are dripping in engine oil.

THE ORDER OF THE INFERNO

Yandi Idris is not dead. He cannot die. He rides on in the living flame. His voice can be heard in the roar of the road and the screams of superheated metal. Yandi is free, and we can be too. He has shown us the path. Only by knowing the flames can we know true freedom. Buy your copy of “Freedom in The Flames” today to find out more. Available from Order of the Inferno stalls at all major trading outposts.

BEVERLY, THE DEVIL ON THE HIGHWAY

The low growling of the starting grid was suddenly eclipsed by an ear-splitting, dizzying sound. Eyeball-shakingly loud, the shrill screeching was suffocating. A single car drifted forward into the pack, windows like onyx, bumper corroded. The sound changed timbre, dropping suddenly to a sub-audible throb that tightened chests and shattered headlamps. Despite the harsh desert sun, frost began to form on windshields. Beverly was a stupid story told to scare children. She wasn’t real.

RUSTY’S BOOTLEGGERS

Zeke Rusty and his boys been wall to wall and treetop-tall since before the world went to hell, running moonshine past Smokey back since before the big red one fell. Their stills are volatile, their delivery vehicles are ramshackle, but they still run liquor that grandpappy would be proud of… though none the boys can remember just how he liked it right now. Damn that gin.

GASLANDS ELITE TOURS

So, you want to see the action in the Gaslands Arena, but the stands just aren’t close enough? Well have we got a deal for you. For a small fee (and the signing of a few inconsequential waivers,) you can witness the spectacle for yourself, INSIDE THE ARENA. Who knows, you might even get lucky and find yourself riding in the winning vehicle. Call now to book passage.

LOCUS

Locus speaks rarely and moves constantly. A ghost of the pre-war special forces community, she emerged from the wreckage of the occupation with a doctrine unlike anything the Gaslands circuit had seen: every engagement a calculated geometry, every skid and slide a firing solution. Her teams practice their maneuvers obsessively — a drift is not a loss of control but a deliberate arc, placing each gun exactly where it needs to be.

SLAGLANDS Clubs

Arch Rivals

  • Sponsor: Locus

The drivers of Arch Rivals will tell you, at length, that most racers think about driving and shooting as two separate problems. This is, they will explain, why most racers lose. The Arch Rivals have developed a unified theory of vehicular combat — equal parts drift mechanics, ballistic geometry, and what their more insufferable members describe as “the mathematics of the inevitable.”

Nobody on the circuit fully understands the theory. Nobody wants to sit through the explanation again. The results, however, are difficult to dismiss. Opponents who’ve raced against them describe the experience as being outmaneuvered by someone who already knew what you were going to do and found it mildly disappointing.

The Gateway Arch, they will note, is a weighted catenary curve — not a parabola, as commonly assumed. They will note this unprompted. They will note it more than once.

Bass Pro Buccaneers

  • Sponsor: Scarlett

Nobody planned this.

The survivors camped along the Mississippi River had boats, they had guns, and they had a truly unreasonable quantity of fishing equipment left over from before the war. When the Slaglands circuit came to their stretch of river they did what any reasonable group of armed people with boats would do — they put wheels on the boats and entered.

The Bass Pro Buccaneers have not significantly reconsidered this decision since.

Their approach to vehicular combat is straightforward to the point of being offensive to anyone who has put serious thought into the discipline. They ram. They board. They shoot. They occasionally deploy a gaff hook in a manner that is difficult to explain after the fact and harder to defend against in the moment. The Molotov cocktails are not a tactical choice so much as a consequence of having a lot of glass bottles and strong opinions.

The boats were not designed for any of this. The trucks they ram were. The Buccaneers find the gap between these two facts to be someone else’s problem.

Their win rate is not impressive. Their survival rate is not impressive. Their entertainment value, however, has never been questioned, which may explain why they keep getting invited back.

JB Old Guard

  • Sponsor: Rutherford

Jefferson Barracks has stood on the western bank of the Mississippi since 1826. It has outlasted the armies that built it, the wars that defined it, and apparently, the Martian occupation that ended everything else. The JB Old Guard intend to keep it that way.

They don’t talk much about how they came together. Veterans, mostly, with a handful of civilians who showed up one day and never left. They found the Barracks in reasonable shape, the cemetery intact, and made a decision that someone needed to stay. Nobody appointed them. Nobody needed to.

Rutherford’s sponsorship money goes directly into maintenance — groundskeeping equipment, headstone restoration, fence repair. The racing is a means to an end. The Old Guard are not unaware of the irony of funding a memorial to fallen soldiers by participating in televised vehicular combat. They have collectively decided not to think about it too hard.

On the circuit they are methodical, disciplined, and extremely well armed. Rutherford’s hardware tends toward the heavy end and the Old Guard use it without showmanship or ceremony. They are not here to entertain.

Japanese Culture Appreciation Society

  • Sponsor: Miyazaki

The nation of Japan has a long and storied history, and has its people have developed a rich and interesting culture. The Japanese Culture Appreciation Society celebrates that storied culture… as view through the lens of mainstream anime.

The JCAS - or as it’s referred to by many other teams, the Jackasses - have declared that it is time to start their Tournament Arc. They’re extremely proud of the collection of highly modified JDM cars.

The cars are quite well engineered, but none of them are actually Japanese. Not that their drivers can tell the difference. They leap behind the wheels, brandishing their mall-ninja cutlery and blast off from the start line with a cry of ‘Nippon steel!’

The JCAS would be the laughing stock of the Slaglands circuit, nothing but a running joke, except for the fact that they are extremely competent drivers.

The Team:

LA Gunk

  • Sponsor: Slime

Just south of the muckflow that used to be the Meramec River the rowdy drivers of LA1 Gunk practice the lost art of mud runnin’.

They converge on the swampy morass by the dozens, competing to see who ‘haul ass’ the firstest or perfect the sickest trick without suffering the indignity of needing a tow back to solid land.

When the muckflow’s dry the drivers of LA Gunk turn their attention northward, entering into the local Gaslands competitions to get their adrenaline fix. With their unique type of hijinks, LA Gunk typically aims less for victory and more for entertainment. Their own, that is.

And the spectators eat it up.

The Team:

Lemp Mansion Coachmen

  • Sponsor: Acolytes of Beverly, the Devil on the Highway

The Lemp Mansion has stood on De Menil Place since 1868. It has survived Prohibition, abandonment, decades of neglect, and the kind of accumulated sorrow that seeps into walls and doesn’t leave. The Coachmen have been based out of it since before anyone thought to ask permission, and nobody has successfully asked them to leave.

Strange things happen around their vehicles. Frost on windshields on warm nights. Headlamps shattering without impact. A low vibration felt in the chest before they arrive that has no mechanical explanation. The Coachmen don’t bring this up. They don’t need to.

What they will tell you, quietly and without elaboration, is that they are never entirely alone on the track. Something moves between their cars — present here, then there, then somewhere else entirely — and whatever it is has never once shown up when expected or failed to show up when needed.

They find this reassuring. Most people find this worse.

Metro Transit Co-op

  • Sponsor: Gaslands Elite Tours

The St. Louis area wastes have become far to dangerous for the average survivor. Between the acid pits, radiation storms, and auto gangs travel has become virtually impossible for small groups… let alone individuals.

Enter the Metro Transit Co-op. Built from the scavenged remains of St. Louis’ old mass transit systems, the MTC offers a simple solution: join up with a group of like-minded travelers and help defend the bus as it races across the wastelands.

The MTC is primarily bring-your-own-gun. Riders are welcome to arrive unarmed but will be required to rent a firearm at time of embarkment. For a modest fee, of course.

The Team:

Rebar Customs

  • Sponsor: Verney

Located off Rebar Road1, Rebar Customs is one of the Slaglands’ premiere automotive garages. Their builds may look kludged together but Rebar is known for premium builds at premium costs.

While their rides are solid, their weapons lean towards the unorthodox. Rebar can service your standard caliber firearms but they specialized in deployed munitions, either dropping from rear mounts or more terrifyingly using their patented FWOOMP launchers. It’s not uncommon to find prices on standard armaments are inflated just to ‘encourage’ their proprietary system’s usage.

John Scudder, one of Rebar’s lead engineers, heads their factory team himself. He and his fellow racers’ vehicles are constantly redesigned as various power plants and weapon systems are tested for reliability in high intensity conditions.

The Team:

StL JOCs

  • Sponsor: Warden

Jeep has always been a lifestyle brand. Even in the wastelands its aficionados will obsessively track down any abandoned wrecks to salvage for repair parts or - if they’re lucky enough to find one sufficiently intact - add a new vehicle to their fleet.

The “Jocks” as they’re called have all bought into the pre-war brand lifestyle. Each jeep is kept immaculately clean (by wasteland standards) and sports a row of rubber ducks (or facsimiles thereof) on their dashboard. If you know, you know.

Unfortunately late model Jeeps were never built as well as the line’s military roots would imply. Yet the Jocks would never consider driving them like anything other than battle tested all terrain combat vehicles. A Jeep doesn’t need armor. Its driver doesn’t need to worry about their safety — the Jeep is the toughest vehicle around!

That thought is firmly intrenched in each drivers’ mind as they inevitably drive their not-a-military-vehicle into collisions, often with explosive results.

The Jocks would like to remind you that, as the printed disclaimer on their pamphlet clearly states, the St. Louis Jeep Owners’ Club is certifiably Not A Cult.

The Team:

The Charred

  • Sponsor: Order of the Inferno

The Cahokia Hallowed Ardent Revival started as a joke. Three drivers, a campfire on top of a thousand year old mound, and someone’s dog-eared copy of Freedom in the Flames.

The joke got out of hand. People showed up. More people showed up. Someone built a structure. Someone else established a doctrine. At some point the fires became permanent and the racing became liturgical and the founding members looked at each other and decided the most profitable thing to do was commit to the bit entirely.

The sincerity of the congregation is real, which is either the most St. Louis thing imaginable or a reasonable response to the apocalypse. Probably both.

They maintain a sacred flame on the great mound above the eastern floodplain — lit, according to their doctrine, in an unbroken line from the fires the ancient priests tended a thousand years before. Whether this is historically accurate is a question the Charred find both irrelevant and offensive.

CHAR’s racing division, the Righteous Enflamed Devotees, fields their vehicles in the Slaglands circuit as a living demonstration of the faith. That the acronym works out the way it does is either a divine sign or a fortunate coincidence. The founding members have strong opinions about which, none of which they will share publicly.

They have not yet achieved the speed required for transcendence. They are getting closer. The repair bills are extraordinary.

Unaffiliated

Volunteer Highway Patrol

  • Sponsor: Highway Patrol

Most drivers join the Volunteer Highway Patrol for one of two reasons — either they want to keep the people of the greater St. Louis area safer, or they weren’t accepted by any other team and want a chance to take their anger out on the teams they were rejected from.

Primarily the latter.

The VHP have earned the moniker as the ‘fun police’ among their fellow teams for their penchant to show up and try and shut down anyone who - in their mind - gets out of hand. They’ve eared a small but devoted fan base… of bullies and other fans of intimidation and oppression.

The Team:

SLAGLANDS Participants

Arfling

It took months for John Tanaka, one of Rebar’s chief engineers, to put together a prototype that could get close to Pepe Coney’s vision. Dubbed the G-Diffusion system, the network of ailerons an maneuverability jets would spin the car unexpectedly and propel it in short powerful bursts until gravity eventually reasserted itself.

Getting the vehicle, dubbed the Arfling, into the air was more difficult. John and Pepe settled on a more mundane approach — drive the vehicle as hard and as fast as possible until the inevitable loss of control sent it airborne, then trigger the G-Diffusion system and let her soar.

It was reckless. It was dangerous. And it was expensive. Too expensive.

Pepe agreed to drive the Arfling as a member of Rebar Customs’ racing team and direct most of his share of any winnings to cover the cost of the build.

The G-Diffusion system has won more than one Death Race at this point, but Pepe still has a long way to go to cover his debt. He doesn’t mind, though. Not as long as he gets to do a barrel roll.

Big Red

The first place John Scudder’s creations are battle tested are on his own Big Red. From the FWOOMP launcher system to the newer radio controlled bomb cars, John firmly believes the best way to judge a weapon design is by the explosion it causes when it hits its mark.

Bully

In an organization like StL JOCs, being the Sergeant-at-Arms means running the whole show. That means Jacques ‘the Jock’ Peter’son calls the shots.

Jacques and the Bully are a menace. The withering gunfire it puts down range is just a preamble to the fender-to-fender reckoning that this beefy boy brings to the badlands.

Camino Rey

Vehicle profile unavailable.

Erikenstein (PH)

Vehicle profile unavailable.

Felina

There’s not much to say about the Felina. The Pontiac Aztek has never nor will it ever be an iconic roadster.

Marty picked this one up out of Albuquerque, cheap, from the estate of a previous owner whose reputation turned out to be considerably more complicated than his neighbors had assumed. Among the effects was an M60 secreted away in the trunk of a totalled 1977 Cadillac DeVille. Marty had the gun turret-mounted on the Aztek, a process that cost considerably more than either car was worth.

The result is a vehicle that remains unglamorous from every angle, which is convenient because every angle is now also a firing solution.

Jank

What began as a Jeep Wrangler has, through a series of questionable modifications, become something else entirely.

Jank does not share the JOCs’ relationship with cleanliness or presentation. It is a working vehicle in the most literal sense — battered, practical, and completely unbothered by the aesthetic standards of its teammates. It shows up. It performs. It leaves a mess.

Kawaii Uguu

Nobody disputes that the Kawaii Uguu is the best looking car on the JCAS roster. The purple metallic finish is immaculate. The wrap is professionally executed. The anime girl across the door panels is rendered in crisp, expressive linework that any fan would immediately recognize as high quality stock art from a character who does not exist in any series.

The driver knows every detail of her backstory anyway.

The Korean text on the side panel is assumed by the driver to be Japanese and is described to anyone who asks as “adding authenticity.” Nobody has corrected them. The rest of the JCAS wouldn’t know the difference either.

On the track the Kawaii Uguu is fast, precise, and driven with the quiet intensity of someone who has decided they are the main character and is waiting for everyone else to realize it.

They are still waiting.

Kingfisher

A self-avowed naturalist, Dr. Sylvester Grindstone operates a small nature reserve and garden in the southern reaches of the Slaglands. It’s a noble effort, but one constantly hindered both by the terrible environments left behind after the Martian war and the rarity of tools and materials necessary to maintain pre-war flora and fauna.

Though a pacifist by nature, Dr. Grindstone knew there was only one profession where it was possible to secure the funds to continue his passion project - the Slaglands death races.

Dr. Grindstone has a particular fondness for birds, and it was one species in particular inspired his vehicle choice. Eschewing any high caliber weaponry for a harpoon, the Kingfisher draws in its targets to be crushed beneath its weighty wheels.

The hope is that a crushed engine block would put an opponent out of the race non-lethally. But if he did happen to drive over a vehicle cabin and crush it’s occupants, then resulting wreckage would likely hide the bodies of those crushed inside from the doctor’s conscious.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Limelight

The high-tech Limelight is as performant as it is controversial. The glowing power pack over the engine compartment has raised a number of questions about just what’s under the hood and how safe it actually is.

Driver Mia Biscotti deflects such questions with the usual answers: “Italian engineering” to the former and “What’s ‘safe’ about a death race?” to the latter.

Technically correct. The best kind of correct.

MFP Biggalo

Some people are born to drive. Addicted to the smells of fuel and burnt rubber. Able to guide metal behemoths in a ballet of speed and destruction. A true road warrior.

Others grow up obsessing over cult movies to the point they’ve convinced themselves that they’ll be the one to finally tame the SLAGLands highways.

They’d trade their dream of the legendary V8 Interceptor for the reality of an affordable aftermarket panel van. They’d splurge on their quintessential paint job and then run out of budget and only afford half a lift kit.

MFP Biggalo is convinced he’s going to bring civility to the wastelands one street at a time.

He’ll be lucky to survive his first death race.

Matador

Dustin Debris is at odds with his team. Eschewing the typical junk-launchers and deployed munitions Rebar Customs favors, Dustin insists on arming his car with traditional high caliber weaponry to provide much needed long-range cover for his teammates. The only reason John Scudder hasn’t ‘upgraded’ the Matador behind Dustin’s back is that Dustin has proved his point in multiple events now.

Though he generally keeps his distance, Dustin is a reckless driver. He pushes the Matador to its limits and isn’t afraid to risk is own car in taking big swings. This high risk driving style does come at a cost… reflected in the car’s repair bills.

Dustin’s even managed to shatter an axle lately, necessitating a last-minute call to Limelight to sub in during one of Rebar’s recent events.

For Dustin’s sake, he better make sure his performance continues to justify his excessive repair bills.

Maxi Taxi

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McFlyboy

Very little needs to be said about Prof Auburn’s modified DeLorean. Mostly because very little is known about it.

Cars aren’t supposed to fly, yet somehow this contraption manages to cruise above its competition in the wastelands leaving trails of flame in its wake.

Flux capacitor? Mr. Fusion? 1.21 Gigawatts?

Meaningless technobabble, or the keys to his vehicle’s flight?

Prowler

  • Photo: “prowler.jpg”
  • Driver: Temple Valencia
  • Teams: Unaffiliated

A number of motor gangs have laid claim to various locals and stretches of highway, charging tolls or outright barring access for their own amusement and/or profit.

Temple “Orange Crush” Valencia’s Prowler has earned itself a reputation as a blockade runner, slipping patrols and avoiding roadblocks with an uncanny ability. Its front mounted machine guns are often used to fire warning shots, scattering unprepared road warriors as the Prowler darts from cover. Deployed smoke bombs cover Prowler’s escape as it either hides from or outpaces any pursers.

Despite repeated recruitment efforts, Temple has yet to sign on with any of the sanctioned Slaglands racing teams. The working assumption is that the money not yet good enough, but some rumors tie Prowler to the anti-Mars resistance.

But of course, as the Gaslands-sponsored PR representatives will tell you, there’s no such thing as the Resistance. Gaslands has nothing to hide. Mars is most certainly not a lie.

Sakura Blossom

The Sakura Blossom is not what you expect from a JCAS vehicle. Pink, purposeful, dressed in proper racing livery. It looks like it took the racing seriously before it took anything else seriously, which is either a coincidence or the result of extremely careful research.

It was extremely careful research.

The driver has opinions about everything — lap times, tire compounds, racing lines, the correct way to hold a katana, the under-appreciated narrative complexity of a particular episode involving a demon whose name they will absolutely spell out for you. The other JCAS drivers find this exhausting. The lap times make it difficult to say so directly.

The mall-ninja tanto displayed on the dashboard is, they insist, purely ceremonial. It has a price tag on it from a store in a shopping mall. The store has since closed.

Sandstorm

A version of Tomek’s original Porsche 928 ‘Surfari’ rebuilt for the combat arena of Slaglands, Sandstorm upgrades the rally car into a all terrain vehicular weapon.

Corralling a jet engine with a rally-tuned suspension, Sandstorm handles like wild animal. Which is exactly LA Gunk’s style.

Travis Utah

Travis Utah is a legend. Travis Utah is a myth. Travis Utah is a ghost. A driver. A mystery. A stuntman. A hero. A savior. His stoic silence is both calming and exhilarating.

If there’s a bike that needs driving, Travis will be there.

If there’s a dare to be made, Travis will take it.

If there’s a jump that needs jumping, Travis will… attempt it.

We are all Travis Utah.

Unnamed Bus (PH)

Vehicle profile unavailable.

Unnamed Limo (PH)

Vehicle profile unavailable.

Viceroy

Oozing style like a white suit over penny loafers, Crocket Tubbs’s first, last, and only concern is cool.

A high tech gun that is unreliable at best. A slick white paint job that requires hours of maintenance to keep it looking clean. Tubbs shows up “dressed” to impressed.

Once in a while he actually does.

Viper Defender

When the Metro City Police Department shuttered the woefully over-budget Viper Project, team engineer Julian Wilkes and driver Joe Astor were left without a job. Rather than seeing their pride and joy rust in storage, the duo stole the Viper Defender and fled, eventually settling down somewhere in the greater St. Louis area.

From there they decided to consider their crusade against crime. Or more specifically, vehicular crime. Identifying the ridiculously dangerous death races of the Slaglands series as the biggest offenders, Astor and Wilkes helped found the Volunteer Highway Patrol in an attempt to curb the event’s effect on civilians and infrastructure.

Wasabi Slider

Nobody on the JCAS is entirely sure what to make of their quietest member. He introduced himself as Ken Kaneki, which everyone assumed was another made up anime name, and has never corrected them. His car is the most visually restrained on the team — flat green, a racing number, a checkerboard flash on the door. The interior is orange. He chose that specifically.

The exposed engine is a different matter. The Wasabi Slider runs on an electric motor, which requires no air intake. This has not stopped someone from fitting it with an enormous chrome engine block and an intake manifold that feeds exactly nothing. It is beautifully engineered. It is completely nonfunctional. Ken has never commented on it.

He is, statistically, the best driver on the team. Nobody has connected these two facts.

Footnotes

  1. “Lower Arnold” for the uninitiated ↩ ↩2

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