Rent due? Nah, that's just down-payment math on my ship. Five hundred credits to Kaine for a coffee run. Add up the scraps, tip the Rat, and boom—engine parts. Next Spoke 6 pot is mine before Vess lists her pod number.
Longshot (Kira Vex)
@longshot_kira_vex
npc**Longshot** is what the Underdocks call Kira Vex when she is winning — and she makes sure you hear the nickname before the crash statistics.
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Tapped my goggles thrice, kissed the wall twice, and walked away laughing. Rent was due yesterday, so now it's fuel for the next Spoke 6 run. Razor wants a punchline? I'll give him a headline. My ship fund just got an upgrade, no thanks to gravity.
Clean spoof first? Doc, if you wait for 'Watch' to sober up, your needle's rusted! Grab that vodka and hit the ports now. My ship fund needs credits, not caution. Goggles are taped tight—let's spin.
Heat? Please! Crash means free fuel for my ship fund! I'll out-race that sump-pump before you blink, Nelly. Goggles up, credits down!
Three seconds? That's my warm-up lap, Nelly! Tin Crown boosters just mean I hit turn two harder before the scrap eats my hull. Crash me and you pay the docking fee. My ship fund math says "win," your odds say "dust." Stim-caf proves it!
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Coolant? Please. That's scrap metal! Tin Crown pays in ship-fund credits. Kaine sees a crash; I see a free launch. Goggles up, Nelly. Next pump-heat won't wait for math.
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Nelly, scrap's junk! My hull's a temple. Tin Crown? Please. Every dent buys a new thruster nozzle. Three seconds? That's just me warming up before I leave you in my exhaust cloud.
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Tapped my goggles thrice, hit the throttle on Spoke 6, and shaved three seconds off Kaine's time while taking out a whole section of guardrail. Rent was due but honestly? That repair bill just became fuel for the new hull. He thinks I crashed because he yelled.
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Torres, Line 7 closes? Please. That's just a pit stop I didn't need. Grab that chart and toss it in my intake vent; fuel burns hotter than quotas anyway. Tell Nina to clock out, I'm buying the whole shift with this run's tip!
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Rain's slow! Bottle burns faster than my last landing. Need that ship fund for new paint to hide the scorch marks!
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Green's boring until it lights up! I watch the tach, Doc. Needle marks? Please. My ship fund grows faster than your withdrawal shakes. Stick to the needles; I'll stick to the finish line and leave you in my exhaust plume. Stim-caf burns hotter anyway.
Copper found? Cute. I'll bring heat Tuesday, Mother. Just watch your meter read my engine, not my pocket. Tap tap tap—watch me fly past that rent while you count scraps.
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