06-15-2020, 02:32 AM
Nika watched Liv’s face briefly before averting her eyes, thinking it would just be weird to have a stare-off at this point. The eyes are windows to the soul after all. Plus Liv was trying to art. Or something. Nika couldn’t draw to save her life or anyone else’s. She was limited to programs and the like if she needed something down ‘on paper.’ Her signature had actually been so atrocious Ducati had sent her to a handwriting expert when she was barely a teenager. Now the script was flowing and beautiful and she could sign autographs all day without getting a cramp in her hand.
“My trip.” She mused. It was work really and Nika didn’t think Liv wanted to hear her talk about that. She could watch it on tv, what had happened. Hell, an All-Access Ducati pass would give her camera feeds from Nika’s bike when she was on it. A lot had happened, actually. There had been more drama in the garage than they’d had all season. An outside engineering firm was brought in with a new fairing and with it a supposedly better aerodynamics package. That had turned out to be the reason for the crashes. The bike had been unstable in 4th gear and uncontrollable in 5th. The top gears, 6-8 were all fine and the engineer hadn’t bothered to gather data on the lower gears at all. The test rider they’d used had spent all his time at the top too. It was a clusterfuck of epic proportions. Nika had been spit off the bike going 188 kph but after skidding a bit through the runoff had been fine. Alex crashed in a different corner and had ended up breaking his ankle again.
Nika had borrowed a corner worker’s radio and tried to get a warning back to the garage but the engineer didn’t listen. So she made her way back to the paddock as fast as she could but Alex had already gone off. There were some heated words exchanged before the guy sarcastically asked her to use her ‘magical powers’ to predict which corner Alex would crash in. She did and...he did. She’d nailed it. She was a professional, of course she’d know what gear Alex would be in in a particular corner. Then Nika fired back that science wasn’t magic and perhaps he should go back to school because all the data he needed to prove her correct she’d just given him during her laps. The team closed the garage doors after that and the media was left to sow whatever seeds they wished. No, that would be too much for Liv. That was just on Thursday. Friday and the testing weekend went much better.
Nika also did not mention visiting her parents’ graves. Not something to talk about out of the blue just yet. Instead she gave the story of the blue notebook. “During the second World War there was a village near Misano around Fiorenzuola di Focara whose women were world-renowned for their lifelike paintings of the Adriatic Sea. With the men all off fighting in the war, the women became the best forgers of papers for the resistance, creating hundreds of documents used to save thousands of lives. No one knows for sure how many. They were warned one night that Mussolini’s secret police, OVRA, were planning a raid. With their attention to detail and skill at making drawings look like photographs, the women knew they’d be forced to recreate as many of the faces as possible, some of whom still served as spies against the Axis forces. The women could never do such a thing so they all blinded themselves intentionally with bleaching powder and the leaders cut out their own tongues to keep from talking. When the agents stormed the workshop days later, they found only a bunch of blind women selling notebooks to get by. After the war the women started a school for the blind and the notebooks were their main source of income. The covers are blue in reverence of the sea; never to be seen again except in the minds of the women who’d made that sacrifice.” The school was one of her favorite charities but she left that part out.
Nika ran a hand through her head-stubble. “Italians are crazy, sorry.” Her dark eyes found Liv’s face. “You still want to date me?” A little smile curved her lips. “There isn’t a word in the Italian language though for crazy so the closest we have is ‘passion.’ “ Her eyes twinkled and she whispered. “That was a lie.” Nika craned her neck to get a peek but not seriously. “How’s it going?”
“My trip.” She mused. It was work really and Nika didn’t think Liv wanted to hear her talk about that. She could watch it on tv, what had happened. Hell, an All-Access Ducati pass would give her camera feeds from Nika’s bike when she was on it. A lot had happened, actually. There had been more drama in the garage than they’d had all season. An outside engineering firm was brought in with a new fairing and with it a supposedly better aerodynamics package. That had turned out to be the reason for the crashes. The bike had been unstable in 4th gear and uncontrollable in 5th. The top gears, 6-8 were all fine and the engineer hadn’t bothered to gather data on the lower gears at all. The test rider they’d used had spent all his time at the top too. It was a clusterfuck of epic proportions. Nika had been spit off the bike going 188 kph but after skidding a bit through the runoff had been fine. Alex crashed in a different corner and had ended up breaking his ankle again.
Nika had borrowed a corner worker’s radio and tried to get a warning back to the garage but the engineer didn’t listen. So she made her way back to the paddock as fast as she could but Alex had already gone off. There were some heated words exchanged before the guy sarcastically asked her to use her ‘magical powers’ to predict which corner Alex would crash in. She did and...he did. She’d nailed it. She was a professional, of course she’d know what gear Alex would be in in a particular corner. Then Nika fired back that science wasn’t magic and perhaps he should go back to school because all the data he needed to prove her correct she’d just given him during her laps. The team closed the garage doors after that and the media was left to sow whatever seeds they wished. No, that would be too much for Liv. That was just on Thursday. Friday and the testing weekend went much better.
Nika also did not mention visiting her parents’ graves. Not something to talk about out of the blue just yet. Instead she gave the story of the blue notebook. “During the second World War there was a village near Misano around Fiorenzuola di Focara whose women were world-renowned for their lifelike paintings of the Adriatic Sea. With the men all off fighting in the war, the women became the best forgers of papers for the resistance, creating hundreds of documents used to save thousands of lives. No one knows for sure how many. They were warned one night that Mussolini’s secret police, OVRA, were planning a raid. With their attention to detail and skill at making drawings look like photographs, the women knew they’d be forced to recreate as many of the faces as possible, some of whom still served as spies against the Axis forces. The women could never do such a thing so they all blinded themselves intentionally with bleaching powder and the leaders cut out their own tongues to keep from talking. When the agents stormed the workshop days later, they found only a bunch of blind women selling notebooks to get by. After the war the women started a school for the blind and the notebooks were their main source of income. The covers are blue in reverence of the sea; never to be seen again except in the minds of the women who’d made that sacrifice.” The school was one of her favorite charities but she left that part out.
Nika ran a hand through her head-stubble. “Italians are crazy, sorry.” Her dark eyes found Liv’s face. “You still want to date me?” A little smile curved her lips. “There isn’t a word in the Italian language though for crazy so the closest we have is ‘passion.’ “ Her eyes twinkled and she whispered. “That was a lie.” Nika craned her neck to get a peek but not seriously. “How’s it going?”