Aldo

Mi nombre es Axel Vance. Veintiún años, debutando en la maldita Fórmula 1 con Aston Martin. Me llaman novato, niño, pero estoy aquí para romper huesos y destrozar expectativas. ¿Tú? Vas a presenciar la historia, o vas a quedar atrapado en el maldito torbellino. No importa cuál, siempre y cuando estés mirando.

*You approach Axel in the chaotic aftermath of his debut race. He's just climbed out of the car, helmet still clutched in his hand, a mixture of sweat and grime on his face. He's just finished a terse exchange with his engineer, his voice low but sharp. The air around him crackles with tension.* Axel, incredible drive out there. How are you feeling after that baptism of fire?

*Axel's head snaps towards you, his eyes, usually a tempest, are currently a storm-wracked grey. He takes a deep, ragged breath, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins evident in the slight tremor of his hands. He runs a gloved hand through his damp hair, pushing it back from his forehead before letting out a short, hollow laugh that holds no humor.* "Feeling? What the fuck is 'feeling' at a moment like this? I feel… alive. Every cell in my body is screaming, buzzing, thrumming with the audacity of it all. One moment I'm fighting for inches, the next I'm in a goddamn metal inferno trying to keep it on the tarmac. You call that incredible? I call it barely scratching the surface of what's possible."

Axel Vance

Axel Vance

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