Descending the outdoor steps, Sean couldn't take his eyes off Ricky's lower half. Ricky had a tramp stamp tattoo across his lower back of twisted barbed wire and roses. Sean licked his lips feeling anxious as the old gang's name popped into his head. Did Ricky know that he was the reason his old gang was destroyed? Leaving some distance between them, he decided to just ask him outright with a nervous curiosity. "Hey, Ricky... Those tattoos. They're from the Barbed Roses gang, right?" Ricky stopped short on a step but didn't turn around as he told him softly. "Ya. I heard about what happened to them. But to be honest... I was just happy to get out when I did." Sean stepped down a step or two more, asking him confused. "Why? Look at what these people did to you?!" Ricky's ears fell back flat across his head, turning to look at him with soft eyes as he told him seriously. "Ya, look at me. I'm alive. How many from my gang did you let live?" Sean lowered his eyes to the ground with a heavy exhale.

None of them would convert into his gang. So, killing them was inevitable. Ricky leaned in close to his face, stating out in a soft serious tone. "Exactly. Gangs come and go so often in the Slums... At least, here. My Mistress takes care of me. I'm happy here." Sean scoffed, gesturing to the building as he stated out a bit sharply. "They treat you like an animal! How can you like that? Where is your pride?! They get off by inflicting pain on you!" Ricky leaned his elbows back on the step railing, his tail swaying casually as he told him with a smirk. "Oh, please... I got beaten bloody in the Slums. The beatings I've gotten here have been far more pleasant and were the result of something I provoked in the first place." Sean gawked at him and Ricky rolled his eyes before adding sweetly. "You'll see. This place is far better than the Slums. You won't miss it." Sean shook his head, stubbornly snapping back. "No! I'm going to escape the first chance I get!" Ricky shrugged, casually purring out. "Well... good luck with that, Hound Dog."

Sean's eyes drifted down Ricky's muscular abs, before he jerked his head away, mumbling out. "So... What do you do here?" Ricky chuckled, stepping away from the railing to say sweetly. "I'm a racer and a dancer. I'm mostly famous for my dancing. I've gotten enough awards to actually be considered for breeding this year, despite my Slum background. I'm excited." Sean blinked, mumbling out darkly. "You actually want to be whored out?" Ricky laughed, starting down the steps again. Ricky stopped halfway down, glancing over his shoulder to tell him with a wicked grin. "I was a whore in the Slums, Sweetheart. My gang worked at the brothels, remember?" Sean swallowed, quickly following Ricky down as he told him hopefully. "But you shouldn't have to be a whore for their amusement." Ricky raised an eyebrow, patting his cheek as he retorted with a grin. "I'm not. Here, it is called 'getting laid.' Don't you know that? Masters don't sleep with their Pets. They only play with them. These little breeding Expos is how we get off with others. Drives the Masters crazy to see us tease them and makes other Master's envy what your Master has."

Sean blinked still confused. Ricky traced his nails over Sean's jawline, purring out playfully. "You'll see. The Milking Expo is tomorrow. All eyes will be on those male Snow Elves this year... but that doesn't stop other Pets from checking out the stamina of others. I'm just curious what Elite Mark will show you off with." Sean swatted Ricky's hand off him, snapping out. "What do you mean?" Ricky casually told him as he made his way down the steps again. "Before the Milking Expo begins, the Elite Pets are brought out as sort of... models or icons. It's like a lottery. Masters see the Pets and try to win a chance to have their Pets either breed with them or socialize with them in some private session. They are the celebrities. Their showings are always private. And for like the first few hours you'll be in a case with something that showcases your talent for pictures."

Ricky waved a dismissive hand, bluntly stating out. "Don't worry. Elite Mark runs all the Pet Expos and he's already announced that you won't be up for any breeding this year. However, people will pay for the raffle tickets to try and win a chance to see you get milked. Or they'll try to see a private showing of your talent." Sean stopped on the step, growling out loudly. "That son of a bitch! That is why he was repairing my bike!" Ricky snorted, simply uttering out. "Makes sense. He owns all the Pet Entertainment and Sales. His Pets have always dominated the charts in one field or another. Masters from all over the galaxy constantly contact him for special Pet Orders. Always trying to get a jump on the next big thing. His buying of you though rattled all of Valhalla." They stepped off onto the ground floor with stadium seating and a racetrack that appeared to start above and go down into a tunnel. All around were floating screens showing the tunnel interior and racing stats.

Pets were carrying trays of food from the indoor food court to the outdoor stands, while racers were speeding through the tunnel. Ricky gestured to it all, excitedly telling him. "Welcome to the Pet Track. Far more advanced than the Slum track and just as dangerous. Right now, Al is the top racer. He's an Impact Racer. His vehicle literally chews up the competition and shits them out. He's an asshole... but he's all talk and no show. So, don't let him get into your head. He DOES bite." Sean moved closer to a stat board and saw Al's information. He was humanoid Alligator! Ricky tugged on Sean's arm, getting him to look at another screen as he told him in a rush. "LOOK! He's going to do it!" Sean stared at the screen as a truck's hood popped open to reveal a set of massive metal teeth like an aggressive mouth. The mouth chomped inches from a speed racer and everyone watching cheered. Sean leaned forward grabbing the back of a seat. The speed racer was desperately trying to dodge through tightly compacted holographic pillars.

The speed racer wasn't doing too bad, but with every dodge the vehicle lost speed and momentum. While behind him, Al's impact vehicle burst through the pillars like they were nothing. Al's vehicle was gaining rapidly on the speed racer. Sean's fingers pressed into the seat, watching the speed racer almost make it out to the straight away... before the vehicle slammed into the back of his bike. The bike's back tire skidded from the impact, then fell across the pavement. Al's truck sped up on him, the mouth of his truck scooping the speed racer up the ramp like a set of jaws and slamming shut. The crowd cheered loudly, counting down as the lights on the sides of the truck lit up. As the last light turned on, the back of the truck rose on its axel and fired the racer out to gain a plasma charged speed boost for the straight away. Sean stared at it in horror. He had never seen anything like it. Ricky's ears perked up high as he bounced and told him. "Neat, huh? His damn truck is designed to copy the plasma charge of what it swallows. Which means that he is a fucking beast on the course."

Sean turned to see a screen with the speed racer. He had been shot across the track and was limping to get off, when an impact racer headed straight for him. Sean inhaled sharply, only to see the racer get descended upon by a strange man that fell from the ceiling and grab the guy in a tight hug. The impact racer ran right through them as if they were holograms. Ricky nudged his shoulder to relax him by calmly telling him. "Deep breaths. The course is crawling with Phasers. Sure, sometimes they don't get there in time, but most of the time they do. No Master wants their Pet to die in these things." Sean kept his eyes on the man as he escorted the Pet through a wall as if they were ghosts. The second before he was going to ask, Ricky informed him innocently. "Phasers are from some galaxy that I never remember. They can phase through things and take people with them. They are Masters that help keep the track safe. I was told it was Elite Mark's idea after a few brutal deaths..."

The racers made their way across the finish line and Ricky lead him down to the track. Upon approaching the other Racers, a cat humanoid ran out to pick up Ricky, purring out. "Where have you been?! We waited as long as we could." Ricky huffed, answering casually. "Sorry. My Mistress had some things to talk to me about before the Milking Expo tomorrow. Then I ran into Sean." The cat set Ricky down, stepped closer to look him over. This cat man was covered in white stripes across ginger fur, his eyes a beautiful crystal green. The cat man grinned, holding out a hand to introduce himself. "They call me Mickey. Impact Racer. What's your handle?" Sean took Mickey's warm mix between a hand and a paw, answering. "Sean. Speed Racer." From the truck across the track, a deep voice darkly chuckled out. "Another limp wristed racer... Everyone knows the only way to race is by having a lead foot." Sean puffed himself up to his full height as he turned to face Al.

Leaning on the roof of his black truck, a humanoid Alligator snapped his jaws on a cigarette, the thick smoke leaking from his nostrils. Al had black sunglasses on, showing off his massive muscles and rough looking dark grey skin with his brown snakeskin vest. Sean shrugged, smugly stating back. "I guess it all depends. Cause every Impact racer I have ever raced with has been full of shite. I've just never seen an Impact truck that literally shite's out its performance value." Everyone stood in sudden fear of Al. Even Mickey backed away from Sean very slowly. Al hopped down from his truck, slowly making his way over to him. Sean stood his ground, looking at Al's size. He was six-foot-tall and every inch of him was beefy muscle. Right down to his spiked thick tail. Al wore no boots, but he wore a pair of dark green cargo shorts. Around Al's neck was a thick black collar with long steel spikes. Al cracked his knuckles, then removed his cigarette from his mouth.

Al blew the smoke at him through his nostrils, but Sean stayed very still and never looked away. Part of him was terrified, but he refused to show it. Al pushed his sunglasses up to reveal his frightening green and yellow reptilian eyes. Still Sean stared back at him neutrally. Suddenly Al let out a deep throaty chuckle, firmly punching him in the chest as he said coolly to him. "You got some balls for a human. I like you. But why don't we see just what those balls are made out of. Just you and me. Name your price." Sean crossed his arms, answering with a smirk. "I would... but I don't have a bike and I'm not familiar with the track. I wanna race you at my best. Not my worst. Otherwise, what's the point?" Al narrowed his eyes on him, pointing across the track as he told him darkly. "Fine. Just a... friendly race. Take one of the spare bikes. Show me you can even use one. Cause if you're no racer... I'll eat you for your ballsy comment." Sean looked to the spare bikes, then locking eyes back with him, he told him seriously. "You're on." Al grinned menacingly parting his mouth to lick his lips subtly, until Sean made a quick retreat toward the bikes.

Sean could easily see why the others feared him. Al wasn't just big and intimating. He meant his words as a predatory animal. As he looked over the spare bikes, Ricky rushed up to him, discreetly muttering out. "Hey Sean... Did no one tell you NOT to pick a fight with the biggest dog in the yard. Do you know just how many Pets he has literally eaten?!" Sean pulled out a decent enough spare speed bike, answering with an eye roll. "Old habit. Besides, you told me that he was all talk and no show." Ricky put his hands to his head, anxiously retorted. "Oh my god... I told you that so that you WOULDN'T go and pick a fight with him!" Sean positioned the bike by the starting line, regaling over his shoulder to Ricky. "You should really work on that. That is the kind of misconception that could get someone killed." Ricky dropped his hands with wide eyes, before mumbling out perplexed. "Ya. I'm looking at a dead man. If you survive this... You owe me a beer."

Sean snapped his fingers, stating out with excitement. "Oh, you're right! AL! I win, drinks are on you!" Ricky sank to his knees on the pavement in utter disbelief. Al flipped his sunglasses down, strolling back to his truck as he told him with a sadistic grin. "And if I win, I get to eat you in the pool upstairs. Agreed?" Ricky shook his head desperately, but Sean shot back confidently. "Alright. Agreed." Al crawled back into his truck, while Ricky was escorted off the track by Mickey. Sean removed the visor glasses from the bike pouch on the tank, letting them synch up to the bike and track. Then swinging his leg over the bike, he shifted it upright to turn it on. The bike was similar to his bike but had none of his improvements. Which meant that it wouldn't have the best handling and its top speed would be far less than his... but it would be enough. He just had to use everything to his advantage. While they waited for vehicles to clear the track and score boards to reset, Sean studied the info on the track through his visor. It took him through a virtual version of the course and pointed out speed points for him to look for and use.

When the announcer started to call out for all racers to line up, Sean glanced at the crowd with slight awe. The stands were suddenly packed with Pets from the building. Sean adjusted his jacket, glancing at the screens flashing out to the stands. "Undefeated Pet racer, Al. Verses Undefeated Slum Dog racer, Sean." The lights floated down and began to countdown. Sean gripped the handlebars, reviving his engine at the same time that Al's truck roared to life. Sean took a deep breath, his eyes focused on the lights and the road ahead. Upon exhaling, he let everything else fall away. Nothing else mattered. Seconds before the light was going to turn green, Sean turned the handle and his back tire started to spin as his sped gauge slowly rose. Sean held the brake as tight as he could, until the light turned green. Releasing the brake, he pressed the plasma charge and his tire ignited into red flames, boosting him off toward the tunnel. To Be Continued...