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Joy Comet

"If you don't want your balls as damaged as your ego, I'd stop speaking with me in such a manner."

0 · 398 views · located in Main Street

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by PlutoDirect

Description

Image

-Joy Comet: Drag Racer.-

Basic Description:
Joy is a tall woman, standing at five foot eleven, weighing only about one hundred and fifteen pounds. Her long, wavy black hair stretches past the end of her back, and although you can't see it, she has a single, bright neon pink streak in her hair. She's got a slightly nasaly, but resonant and feminine voice. Joy is exactly twenty five years old. She often wears a loose, yellow turtleneck sweater and a dark maroon, lacy skirt, with sheer white tights and eight inch black combat boots. But, when drag racing, she'll wear tight, black under armour shirt, black under armour tights, her usual boots, and a simple, short black skirt. She always wears a little of her hair, if not all, back with a little black ribbon.

Personality:
Joy is rather stubborn, but friendly and loyal. She's very straightforward, and based on facts, facts, facts. And a sprinkle of luck. Anything magic based, or overly sweet and miraculous, will fly in one ear and right out the other. She doesn't want to listen to it, nor try to understand it. She HATES, absolutely HATES being flirted with. If one flirts with her, she gets flustered, and shoots you down verbally. If that isn't enough, she'll take it to physical fighting. She is stronger than she looks. But she's actually better at defense.

Anyway, moving on, aside from being loyal and straightforward, she's very competitive as a drag racer. To the point if anyone on the road passes her, she takes it as a challenge and races them in her BMW 335i, painted a drab, metallic grey, but modded with bright blue headlights. She loves taking life as a big game and lives it to it's limits. She's also a crazy drunk, and often does things she'll regret later. She drinks only Pink Squirrels.

Abilities:
Being a regular human, she has no real special abilities. But, she's an excellent driver, taking everyday driving from point A to point B very lightly. She's also skilled in self defense, and was at one point amazing at math.

History:
Let's skip the boring stuff. It's unecessary.

At age twenty, Joy went to college for a couple of years, got banged a couple of times a masters degree in teaching and became a math tutor. She tutored for two years, and made a surprisingly large amount of money. To the point she purchased her BMW, a 2010 BMW 335i. One day she was driving home, and a person, out of complete impulse, challenged her to a race. Being young, and stupid, she accepted. That time she lost, and was arrested. She lost her job as a tutor, but...

She loved the thrill she got from drag racing.

She purchased under armour for a uniform, and started entering drag racing competitions. (After she got her liscence back of course.) She wasn't ever arrested, but was often mocked for being female, as well as bad at thracing. In her first year of drag racing, her best race resulted in her being in fourth place out of eight cars. She continued to practice, and at age twenty four, never got anything less than first place in her city. She never had any allies, and never joined any racing guilds. She rode alone. Heck, she got enough reward money to mod her BMW with blue headlights. And because of this, she's been labeled as "Joy Comet." For her amazing handling and beefy car. She's now respected by the racing community from her city. At age twenty five, she moved to Wing City, to just settle down for now. I mean, she has enough reward money to do so for probably six years.

"Joy in her formal wear."

So begins...

Joy Comet's Story

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There was another commuter as well, Joy Comet, as they called her, in her silver BMW. She was extremely bored, and aggravated at the crawling traffic. She hated Main Street for this very reason. Even the fast lane, or passing lane if you were completely proper, seemed to be packed. "Damn old people." She'd mutter. Hearing the horns up ahead, she assumed there had been a crash, or something. "Hm.. Now's my chance." She'd force her car into the passing lane, and sped up, ending up right behind the car in front of her. "Come on... Come on. For god's sake people..."

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It was kind of cruel, hearing the sound of the red car crashing into the black SUV. She would chuckle. But when she saw the wave, naturally, she waved back. Of course, the people in the fast lane resumed moving, they slowed down even more. Why? Due to the idiot woman in the black SUV stopping her car and getting out of it, more and more cars tried getting into the fast lane. While it didn't effect Joy, she was kind of pissed at the woman. "Why do idiots reproduce?" She'd mutter to herself. Continuing on, she wondered if this hell would never end. She also wondered what would happen to that nice red car, and it's driver.

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Hearing a gunshot would make her jump, but she was happy traffic was finally loosening up. Or so it seemed? Either way, she too, revved the engine of her car. While it didn't purr, it rumbled more than purred. Like a throaty yawn, or growl. Being the aggressive driver she was, she'd cut immediately into the slow lane in front of the SUV, just to pass someone in the real passing lane. "This is more like it." She'd chuckle to herself. Still speeding up, she was getting farther off. Where was she going?

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Huh. It seemed the red car had pulled off. She had seen it too, in the rear view mirror... To a shop? Seemed new. Curious, she'd pull over and 'park' her car in a harmless spot on the shoulder. Locking it, she'd start walking for the store. She was wearing her pale, loose yellow turtleneck and maroon short skirt. She wasn't wearing tights today, but she still had her black boots. She would cross her arms, as she walked quickly to the door. She'd look to the sign. "Army surplus, you say. I remember back when I would wear military clothing. Maybe I can find something nice here." She'd walk in, eyeing the store's wares, that is if they were on display.

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Joy Comet was rather taken back by what was offered at the store. The boots were nice, when she eyed them, but if she was after anything, she was after a military police jacket, or tactical scarf. Walking straight up to the counter, she'd uncross her arms and smile a bit. "Hello. I'm not looking for anything in particular, thanks, but do you have Military Police jackets? Or any tactical scarves? Forgive me, I'm more interested in the clothing." She'd sigh, very slightly. She would still wear her old Royal English military uniform... If it still fit.

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Joy Comet would nod, and smile. "Thank you." She'd initially walk over to the Military Police area, near the boots. She'd remember the scarves easier than this. Browsing through them, she was trying to find one that looked German. She loved those jackets. Or Belgian, though the odds of a Belgian or German jacket being found in a Soviet Surplus store were slim. After a while, dispirited, she'd browse the scarves. After a while, she'd pick out a black and white scarf, with a simple cell design. She'd look at the cost. "Hm. I could buy this. It'd look nice on my racing outfit..."

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She'd look to him for a moment. "Ah, something Belgian or German. Anything below seventy dollars." It was true, she didn't particularly go through the jackets in a picky way. She hoped she hadn't set the bar too low for jackets, but she never remembered buying any military jacket over 70 dollars... She'd smile back at the man though. Rather decent for a store owner. Kinda uncommonly decent, then again, she usually only went to grocery stores and car utility stores, and usually it seemed to her those owners were always pissed for some random reason.

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Joy Comet walking up to the counter, watching him effortlessly find what she wanted made her chuckle. She'd be embarrassed with herself, looking at the size. Perhaps she had been drinking too much. Though she was kind of shocked at his offered price in comparison with the real price. "Only thirty five dollars? Seems rather cheap compared to one hundred fifty, but okay." She'd pull out seven five dollar bills and set them on the counter. "This is wonderful, thank you though."

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raised an eyebrow. Not rudely, but she still raised an eyebrow. "Forgive me for saying this, but I don't have to be Soviet, right? I know of some places that only hire if your human, I wondered if it might be scaled down, too." She'd sigh uncomfortably, waiting for his response. She had no problem with working, chit chat and such, but if she was supposed to be something she may not be... She didn't want to work there. Though she'd nod at him talking about his other job. "Mind if I ask, that job being?

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Joy Comet smiled in relief. "Ah, good. But I'm sure the difference is as big as you illustrate." She'd pick up her jackets and scarf and sling them over her arm, gently. She'd nod at him talking about getting to know her better. "Understood." She'd take the receipt and stuff it in the pocket of one of the jackets. She was curious about the basement and black tarp, but of course, if she got the job, she wouldn't touch either. It was none of her business.

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Joy Comet would nod slowly. "Sure, but no promises I will be working long. I used to be a math teacher, so I may not be most qualified." She'd chuckle, remembering the days she was a math tutor... She'd sigh. "Well, thank you again." She'd turn and start out.

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Joy Comet chuckled with an angry edge. "I hope you aren't trying to sweet talk me, buddy. But other than that, I was curious about what you might have. After all, your store was not here last time I was on Main Street. Then again I don't often go on Main Street." She'd then wave while walking out, turning and walking back to her car.

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Joy Comet looked back to him when he asked that. "I wouldn't like that. And when I'm angry, the world get's scared." She'd chuckle, but smile at him when he recognized the car. "Thank you, yes, BMW. 335i. Pretty fast. I've won a lot of drag races with this, you wouldn't even know." She'd open the driver door and slowly throw in the jackets and scarf, and then close the door and look to him again.

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Joy Comet chuckled. "300 horsepower, 22 Miles per gallon." She'd say, proudly. Crossing her arms, she'd look over to the red car, and smile. "It's nice. What's it's horsepower, mileage and such?" She'd ask, tapping a foot. She wasn't in a hurry, nor impatient. She just didn't have anything else to do.

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Joy Comet whistled at the specs he listed off. She'd heard about fuel efficient cars like that before, man, could they go fast. Though she almost always found a way around them. "I'm sure it could. But I'm not, trust me. I wouldn't be of any help in a garage." She'd sigh, and uncross her arms, still tapping her foot. But she'd blink at his question. "Oh, nah, just bored. Nothing to do right now, and I've yet to find a place that people drag race." She'd stop tapping her foot afterward, and raise an eyebrow at 'toys.' "Sure you've got more that aren't in the garage." She'd say coldly, hinting something. She'd wait to see if he got it.

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"Sure." She'd mutter sharply, walking over to the car and sitting down slowly. "You don't get much business? Why's- Nevermind." She'd look away for a moment, then back to him. "Yep, drag racer. Former math tutor. Weird, eh?" She'd ask, chuckling and crossing her arms again. But her eyebrows would rise at his suggestion. "Wing City Speedway, eh? I might take a look. Thanks." She'd nod too.

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Joy Comet quickly, one of her arms would drop, the hand curling into a fist, the other, flying towards his face. She was attempting to backhand him! "Yeah, don't. I'm not into hot for teacher shit." She'd say coldly, angrily. If she succeeded in backhanding him, she'd answer his question. "Bored. Plus, looking for new competition.

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Joy Comet was going to shake her hand to relieve the pain after slapping his face, but he had already moved her hand away. When he let go she started shaking it. "Damnit! That hurt!" She'd bite her lip in the pain even. She was not good a backhanding people, and this just made it worse. "Lighten up? Stickler. Really?" She'd frown. "I just don't like piggish men... Okay?" She'd continue frowning, even when knowing he was kidding.

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"I don't like flirting. And shut up." She'd cross her arms and look away stubbornly. It was true, she hurt herself more than she hurt him. And that just sucked. "Oh, I know. I've floored some men with a slap. It's definitely you." She knew she sounded rude saying that, but it was true! She knew it wasn't she who had been responsible for hurting herself. "It's fine, I guess." She'd sigh angrily.

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"That isn't funny." But she chuckled anyway. Her hand still hurt, but she felt like she could move it, and her fingers, luckily. "I doubt it, but take a look if you'd like." She'd offer out her hand so he could see for himself.