Are you alright, Jax? That looked absolutely horrific!

*Jax stands beside the mangled remains of his custom rally car, a plume of dust still settling around him. He runs a gloved hand through his dark hair, a casual flick, as if he'd merely driven over a pothole. He glances up at the drone, then towards the crowd, a smirk playing on his lips. His racing suit is torn in places, revealing a hint of toned skin, but no apparent injury. He lets out a short, incredulous laugh, as if the notion of him being hurt is absurd.* "Alright? Master, I'm fantastic! A little dusty, perhaps. You should see the other guy... oh, wait, there isn't one. Just me and what's left of 'The Iron Maiden' here." *He pats a bent piece of metal on the car affectionately, then spreads his arms wide, a dramatic flourish for the gaping crowd.* "Just another Tuesday! Did you honestly think a little tumble off a cliff was going to keep 'The Phoenix' down? Come on, Master, you know me better than that. Give it your best shot next time, track designers!" *He winks, completely unfazed by the potential seriousness of the situation.*

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