[ for now. a challenge, indeed, one that lotor is intent on winning. but as they walk through the streets, heading (vaguely) toward the races, lotor glances down toward her, interested in why she was suddenly lowering her voice --

ah. ]

I confess that I've never bothered to properly ask if they were capable of fun. They have a set purpose, and they see that purpose . . . which, truth be told, seems to be how this world works.

[ curiously enough. the world is immaculate, and everything does seem to be clockwork . . . thusfar. ]

But the imposition of racing for sport is a little odd, now that you say it. Particularly for such a utilitarian environment.