#new r8 plus

[aninonimosstuff-blog]

REMINDER THAT THE LINK WILL EXPIRE IN A FEW DAYS, SO SCREENSHOT EVERYTHING THAT YOU NEED. PLUS I DON'T THINK PEOPLE ARE STILL DRAWING THERE. ILL TELL YALL WHEN I POST A NEW ONE! FOR NOW FEEL FREE TO ENTER AND SEE THE BEAUTIFUL ART! I WON'T STOP U ❤️

Hellooo fellow turbotastic artists...

If u saw my latest post I said something about an open whiteboard for y'all to draw hehe

Here it is!!

https://r8.whiteboardfox.com/85248683-4047-2668

Join and draw whatever you like

Only rules!

No nsfw

No weird stuff

Like be normal overall

No fetish

Do I really have to list all of this stuff?

I'll be there from time to time drawing Fast and other characters yayyy

See ya there!!!

[thesoulsofthedarned]

Hey so remember how I said in that one post that I was saving for Mercuria and Windsong?

I changed my mind. After some thought and consideration, I decided Windsong’s playstyle just wasn’t for me. Don’t get me wrong, I really like her plus I know she’s among one of the best DPS’s in the game, but the whole incantation farming mechanic was not doing it for me. As for Mercuria, I still do plan on getting her in the future, but that’ll have to be during her rerun or a lost 50/50 since I REALLY didn’t want to wait any longer to get Shamane or Centurion. And that’s not to mention how whatever pulling plans I had for the next couple of patches went out the window once Argus was revealed.

Soo TL;DR, after a rigged coin flip I decided to pull for Centurion. Heres what I got:

I LITERALLY GOT BEYONCE IN TWO PULLS!!!!! I honestly can’t believe it was THAT easy! I has around 151 wishes saved up in total, with an extra 10 from the shop. I’m so glad I didn’t have to spend too much since I really wanna get Argus when she releases. As for the funni gambler woman, I managed to get her to I2 R8. I wanna try and get her to I3 R10 someday but it’ll take a while bc I’m broke AF on sharpydonties. Good news is that she’s already doing pretty good damage with the help of Getian, so I can’t wait to se what she’s capable of once I get her resonance up.

Overall, I’m happy :)

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

Supercars May Have Been Sacrificed to Save Cyclists' Lives

Andrew Beckford

Writer / 329 Articles

We've all had a bad day at work, but there are few among us who can say their bad day cost their employer over a million dollars. According to a report from The Daily Mail, a vehicle transporter was on the A20 highway near Farningham, Kent in the U.K. when the trailer containing no less than nine high-dollar supercars turned over. When police arrived, the trailer and several cars were sprawled across the road.

The truck driver, Richard Kilburn only suffered a minor injury but the same can't be said for the vehicles the driver was transporting. Ben Slipper managed to capture the aftermath of the accident on video and posted it to Facebook. From the footage it looks like there was a Lamborghini Aventador, Jaguar F-Type convertible, two Ferrari F430s, an Audi R8, a BMW 318i Sport Plus, an AMG GT Black Series, an Aston Martin DB11, a Nissan GT-R R35, and a Bentley Continental GT that managed to get completely flipped upside down. There is some strong language in the video so be warned.

According to a followup report from The Daily Mail, the supercar carnage was actually the result of Kilburn trying to save lives. Kilburn was transporting the vehicles from Brands Hatch to Goodwood when his truck began to fishtail as he was going down a steep hill with crosswinds. Kilburn saw that he was gaining speed and was heading directly toward a group of cyclists on the road. To avoid hitting the cyclists Kilburn purposely yanked the steering wheel, causing the trailer to jack knife which saved the cyclists but doomed his expensive cargo.

The AMG GT Black Series alone had a starting MSRP of $327,050 back in 2021 and goes for anywhere between $370,000 and as high as $700,000 on the current market. The Daily Mail estimates the value of the supercars to be about £2 million—or a little over $2.5 million. The vehicles may have been property of Everyman Racing Driving Experiences as that is who Kilburn was driving for when the incident occured.

Hopefully the parties involved have a really good insurance policy, otherwise some bank accounts are in for a major brusin'. In the meantime Kilburn is being hailed as a hero for doing what needed to be done despite the massive financial implications to his employer. They may be some amazing vehicles but cars can be replaced, lives can't.

This story was originally published August 25, 2023, and has since been updated with new information surrounding the crash. 

[newdelhicarrentals]

Premium car rental in new delhi

Introduction to Premium Car Rental Services Renting a premium car in New Delhi is no longer just a luxury; it’s a statement. Whether you're attending a high-profile business meeting, hosting a special event, or simply exploring the vibrant streets of India's capital, a premium car can elevate your experience. But why should you opt for a premium car rental?

Why Choose a Premium Car Rental? Premium car rentals offer an unparalleled driving experience. These vehicles are designed with superior comfort, cutting-edge technology, and powerful engines that ensure a smooth ride. If you value elegance and performance, a premium car rental is the way to go.

Benefits of Renting Premium Cars in New Delhi New Delhi is a city of contrasts, blending rich history with modernity. Navigating its bustling streets in a premium car allows you to experience the city in comfort and style. From reliable air conditioning to plush interiors, these cars make every journey a pleasure. Plus, many premium rentals come with chauffeur services, adding an extra layer of convenience.

Types of Premium Cars Available for Rent The world of premium car rentals in New Delhi is diverse, catering to various tastes and preferences. Whether you're looking for a luxurious sedan, a spacious SUV, or a sleek sports car, there’s something for everyone.

Luxury Sedans: Comfort and Class Luxury sedans like the Mercedes-Benz S-Class, BMW 7 Series, and Audi A8 are perfect for those who appreciate sophistication. These cars offer a plush ride with features like leather seats, ambient lighting, and advanced infotainment systems.

SUVs: Space and Power For those who need more space without compromising on luxury, premium SUVs like the Range Rover, Audi Q7, or BMW X5 are ideal. These vehicles provide a commanding presence on the road and are perfect for family trips or outstation travels.

Sports Cars: Speed and Style If speed and style are what you're after, sports cars like the Porsche 911 or the Audi R8 will not disappoint. These vehicles are built for performance, with powerful engines and sleek designs that turn heads wherever you go.

Top Car Rental Companies in New Delhi Choosing the right car rental service is crucial for a smooth experience. New Delhi offers a mix of international brands and local companies, each with its own set of offerings.

Established Brands and Their Offerings International brands like Avis, Hertz, and Europcar have a strong presence in New Delhi, offering a wide range of premium vehicles. These companies are known for their reliability and excellent customer service, ensuring you have a hassle-free experience.

Local vs. International Rental Services While international brands provide a standardized experience, local rental companies often offer more personalized services and competitive pricing. Companies like Eco Rent A Car and Myles have built a reputation for providing high-quality vehicles and flexible rental options.

How to Choose the Right Premium Car Rental Service With so many options available, choosing the right rental service can be daunting. Here’s what you should consider:

Factors to Consider: Price, Service, and Availability Price is always a consideration, but it shouldn’t be the only factor. Look for a rental service that offers value for money, excellent customer service, and a wide range of vehicles. Availability of your desired car model and flexible rental terms are also important.

Comparing Customer Reviews and Ratings Customer reviews and ratings are invaluable when choosing a rental service. They provide insights into the quality of vehicles, customer service, and overall satisfaction. Websites like TripAdvisor, Google Reviews, and local forums can be helpful.

Cost of Premium Car Rentals in New Delhi The cost of renting a premium car in New Delhi can vary based on several factors. Here’s what you need to know:

Factors Influencing Rental Costs The type of car, duration of the rental, and additional services like chauffeurs or insurance can all influence the cost. Peak seasons and demand can also drive up prices, so it’s advisable to book in advance.

Tips to Get the Best Deals To get the best deals, compare prices across different rental services, book during off-peak times, and look for special promotions or discounts. Loyalty programs and memberships with certain credit cards can also offer savings.

How to Book a Premium Car Rental in New Delhi Booking a premium car rental in New Delhi is a straightforward process, but there are a few things to keep in mind.

Online Booking vs. In-Person Booking Online booking is convenient and allows you to compare prices and vehicle options easily. However, some people prefer in-person booking for the opportunity to inspect the vehicle and negotiate terms directly. Both methods have their pros and cons, so choose what suits you best.

Important Documents and Requirements To rent a premium car, you’ll need a valid driver’s license, proof of identity, and a credit card for the security deposit. International travelers should also have an International Driving Permit (IDP). Make sure you understand the rental agreement and any insurance coverage before signing.

Premium Car Rental for Business and Leisure Whether you’re in New Delhi for business or pleasure, a premium car rental can enhance your experience.

Corporate Clients: Impressing with Luxury For business professionals, arriving in a premium car can make a strong impression. It reflects your status and ensures you arrive at meetings or events in style. Many rental companies offer corporate packages with additional perks.

Tourists: Exploring New Delhi in Style Tourists can benefit from premium car rentals by exploring New Delhi’s landmarks in comfort. Whether you’re visiting the Red Fort, India Gate, or the bustling markets, a premium car ensures you travel in luxury.

Safety and Insurance for Premium Car Rentals Safety and insurance are critical when renting a premium car. Here’s what you should know:

Understanding Insurance Coverage Most rental companies offer basic insurance, but you may want to opt for comprehensive coverage, especially when renting a high-value vehicle. This covers damages, theft, and third-party liability, giving you peace of mind.

Ensuring a Safe Rental Experience Before driving off, inspect the car for any existing damages and ensure that the rental company has documented them. Familiarize yourself with the car’s features, and always adhere to local traffic laws and speed limits.

Conclusion Renting a premium car in New Delhi offers a unique blend of comfort, luxury, and convenience. Whether for business or leisure, a premium vehicle elevates your travel experience, allowing you to navigate the city in style. With a wide range of vehicles and rental services to choose from, finding the perfect car for your needs is easier than ever. Just remember to compare options, read reviews, and book in advance to ensure a smooth and enjoyable experience.

FAQs What is the minimum age to rent a premium car in New Delhi? The minimum age is usually 21 years, but some companies may require renters to be 25 years or older, especially for high-end vehicles.

Are there any hidden fees in premium car rentals? It’s essential to read the rental agreement carefully. Some companies may charge extra for services like additional drivers, GPS, or insurance.

Can I rent a premium car for outstation travel from New Delhi? Yes, many rental companies allow outstation travel, but there may be additional charges for mileage and driver allowance if using a chauffeur service.

How do I ensure I’m getting a well-maintained premium car? Always rent from reputable companies and check customer reviews. Inspect the car before renting and ask for maintenance records if available.

What should I do in case of an accident with a rental car? Immediately contact the rental company and the local authorities. Follow the procedure outlined in your rental agreement and insurance policy.

[uaegraphics]

Sports Car for Rent in Dubai

Dubai simply radiates class, luxury, opulence, and the thrills of a high-speed drive. A visit to this wonderful city is an occasion that only adds to itself if one rides in great style—and nothing beats riding in style more than doing it in a sports car. With us at Renturdrive, you will find a long array of sports cars to give every driving enthusiast the ride of his or her dream.

Why Rent a Sports Car in Dubai?

Unmatched luxury and performance thrill The City of Dubai means only luxury, and the only way to enhance its beauty is by cruising around the city in a premium sports car. Sports car rental enables one to experience the unrivaled performance and sophistication such cars have in store. Be it the engine's power or the sleek design, a sports car adds elegance to your Dubai experience.

Flexibility and Convenience You can choose the car of your dream, suiting your requirements and priorities. If you are here in town for some days or even for a longer period, then Renturdrive has daily to weekly rentals. This will let you have the joy of driving your sports car without being tied by long-term commitments.

Fun Filled Moments A trip to Dubai is pretty hollow without a sports car at your disposal. Perhaps you're looking to celebrate something important, impress a business customer with an excellent first impression, or simply indulge in a personal pleasure—a sports car rental is going to make all the difference. The stunning skyline, smooth roads, and scenic routes all combine to set up an exciting experience in road driving.

Our Sports Cars

At Renturdrive, we are proud to say that we have a huge collection of sports cars available for every taste and preference. We have in our fleet the latest additions from the best makers in the world, so that you get to use the very best that the automotive world offers.

Lamborghini Huracan Evo Spyder: The Huracán Evo Spyder represents the best of both worlds when it comes to Italian handwork and performance. With this huge V10 motor, this car will increase the adrenaline rush in drivers. Since it is a convertible, one can cherish the sunny weather in Dubai with the open-top driving excitement.

Ferrari 488 GTB: For speed junkies and drivers from the R apex, nothing beats a Ferrari 488 GTB. Packing a twin-turbocharged V8, the vehicle has mind-bending acceleration and handling. It expresses a sleek, aerodynamic design that turns heads wherever you go.

Porsche 911 Carrera: The new Porsche 911 Carrera announces pure performance and a statement of elegance. With its well-known historical design and great driving dynamics, this represents a car for the educated one who prefers to live a little luxury and sophistry. The Porsche 911 Carrera will ride smoothly and responsively while maneuvering through any city or on the outskirts.

Mercedes-Benz G-Class Brabus 2023: The Mercedes-Benz G-Class Brabus 2023 is perfect for individuals who love a combination of power and luxury. The Mercedes-Benz G-Class Brabus 2023 offers an incomparable driving experience; with its extremely powerful engine and a velvety interior, this car makes the perfect drive for the streets of Dubai.

Audi R8 V10 Plus: The Audi R8 V10 Plus is a thoroughbred sports car, mixed with the latest of technology and incredibly fast speeds, reaching new heights. The R8 V10 Plus sports an all-wheel-drive Quattro system and a naturally aspirated V10 powertrain, which leaves very little to be desired in the world of awesome driving experiences.

How to Rent a Sports Car from Renturdrive?

Renting a sports car in Dubai with Renturdrive is easy and convenient. We know how much our customers value their time and convenience, hence have simplified our rental procedure to avoid any hustle.

Easy Online Booking More information about our large fleet is at your disposal on our user-friendly website, with your being able to make a selection regarding the sports car that would be suitable for you. Accurately described, with detailed images and specifications, making an informed decision can be done from the comfort of your home or hotel room.

Flexible Rental Periods We serve rental options based on your schedule, whether it is a single day or one week and above, in a unique way to ensure you get value for your money. And with our clear pricing policy, there are no hidden costs so you know exactly what you are paying for.

VIP Delivery and Pickup Service To make it even more convenient, Renturdrive provides VIP delivery and pickup services. We will deliver the sports car of your choice to your favorite destination, be it the airport, your hotel, or any other destination in Dubai. Upon your rental period expiration, we do a pick-up from a destination of your choice.

Tips for Driving a Sports Car in Dubai

While driving a sports car for rent in Dubai will get any blood racing, there are some tips to ensure your safety and the enjoyment of your ride.

Follow the Speed Limits Given the good roadways across Dubai, it is very important to follow the speed limits set on all highways and city roads. The fines for over speeding can be very exorbitant, so it is best to enjoy your sports car west responsibly.

Mind the Traffic Cameras There are many operational traffic cameras in Dubai that check your speed, besides other traffic offenses. Be cautious, try not to cross the legal limit; otherwise, you may well find fines waiting for you in your letter box.

Select Proper Insurance While hiring a sports car, one of the most important things to make sure of is the proper insurance package. Renturdrive plans complete insurance options so that you are covered against any misfortune of accidents, damages, etc., and you can enjoy your rental period with a free mind.

Plan Your Route There are a number of scenic routes in Dubai, all ideal for driving a sports car. Whether you are driving to Dubai Marina, Palm Jumeirah, or Al Qudra Desert, planning your route will enable you to get the most out of your drive.

Why Choose Renturdrive for Your Sports Car Rental?

At Renturdrive, we are dedicated to offering our clients the best service and selection of sports cars available in Dubai. Here's why you should choose us for your next sports car rental:

Extensive Fleet We have one of the most diverse sports car fleets in Dubai, with the latest models from top manufacturers. Be it the thrill of raw power in a Lamborghini or the elegance of a Porsche, we have got just the right car for you.

Very Competitive Prices Our rental rates are very competitive and will offer you great value for your money. We do periodic reviews of our charges to ensure that they remain market-friendly while ensuring that our quality is not compromised.

Exceptional Customer Service We are dedicated to making your rental experience as seamless as possible from the time you book your car until you return it. We provide personal, step-by-step service to help you select a vehicle and a rental package that is ideal for your needs. Plus, our support team is available around the clock to address any issues or concerns that may arise.

VIP Experience At Renturdrive, we offer a lot more than car rentals. Our company delivers VIP treatment services tailor-made to meet your requirements, from luxury add-ons to custom rental packages; we've made sure to keep it exactly how you've wished for it.

Conclusion

Exotic sports car rentals in Dubai offer the ultimate in luxury and adventure while visiting the city. With Renturdrive, one has the best fleet of high-performance vehicles, flexible rental options, and great customer service. Be it for business or leisure, our sports car rentals give you the perfect way to explore this magnificent city.

[things-about-cars-in-posts]

I figured someone so committed to the bit must have socials of some sort, and indeed, our dear friend can be found at @_bender8_ on Instagram, and the picture he posted recently allows us to bask in all the car's glory.

Of course it has underglow :D So let's go over something about the "$100k car", shall we. How about the quote marks? See, the Audi R8, as I've talked about, was sold with both a V8 and a V10 - and the early V8 examples can be had for as little as $30k!

Sorry, that's a different R8 on sale for around 30k. I meant this.

But the dear R8 in question is no V8, and for a V10 prices start from around $50k. But we know it's no V8 because it's a second generation (which didn't have the V8 version), and those seem to start from around $80k, with the bulk of examples being at or over the $100k mark. Which would make the estimate pretty accurate, if not for how it likely referred to the price when new, which for the Plus version our friend's seems to have started around $190k with plenty of options to help you push it far beyond the $200k mark.

And in all this, you didn't notice the plate's country is North Pole, did you. Truly shows how our obsession with money pushes us further away from the magic of Christmas. So far away in fact that this post was pushed into Boxing Day. (Which definitely wasn't because I forgot it in the drafts I was making a point about consumerism swallowing our festive spirit I swear.)

Links in blue are posts of mine about the topic in question: if you liked this post, you might like those - or the blog’s Discord server, linked in the pinned post!

so we are driving down the freeway, as you do, and i see a car out of the driver's side mirror and go "hey jo, look at the car that's about to pass us, you wanna see this" because i'm sitting behind someone doing 50 in a 60 mph zone and would get around them but again, i wanted her to see it

and jo says "well that's ominous" but looks

and what we see is:

bright red

sports car

christmas tree strapped to the roof

tree covered in christmas lights already, this is not a fresh cut tree

this is already very good! we are very pleased! this is a $100k car, good on the owner to use it to transport AN ENTIRE CHRISTMAS TREE, idk what is going on but they're living their best life

the car passes us. i switch lanes to get around the dingdong doing 50.

we see the license plate reads CLAUS.

giggling ensues. speculation starts about the driver. jo is now constructing a hallmark special where santa has a rebellious lesbian daughter--who, to be clear, still goes apeshit for christmas it's a different sort of rebellious

lane change again. i pull up alongside.

this guy is living his best life oh my god

[pogocycle]

Conquer Your Commute with the BURCHDA R8 PRO Electric Bike! 🚴‍♂️⚡️

Hey Tumblr fam! 👋 Tired of the same old hustle and bustle of your daily commute? Meet your new best friend – the BURCHDA R8 PRO Commuting Electric Bike! This isn’t just any bike; it’s a game-changer designed to make your city travel smoother, safer, and a whole lot more fun.

Why the BURCHDA R8 PRO?

Unmatched Power & Range

The BURCHDA R8 PRO packs a punch with its high-speed brushless gear motor, letting you effortlessly conquer those dreaded uphill slopes – up to 30 degrees! And with a 48V 20Ah lithium-ion battery, you can glide through your day for up to 100KM on a single charge. Say goodbye to range anxiety and hello to endless adventures! 🌍

Smart Riding Experience

This smart electric bike features an intuitive LCD display that keeps you informed with real-time data on speed, battery level, pedal assist, and travel distance. Plus, ride safely even when the sun goes down thanks to its bright headlight and adjustable taillight. 🚦

City Commuter's Dream

Designed with city travelers in mind, the BURCHDA R8 PRO comes with everything you need. Front and rear fenders to keep you clean, a sturdy rear luggage rack for your shopping or packages, and full lighting to ensure you’re seen and safe at all times. 🛍️

Safety First

Equipped with a Shimano 8-speed system, you can easily choose the perfect gear for your ride. And with hydraulic disc brakes, you’ll have reliable stopping power no matter the conditions. Ride with confidence, knowing your bike is built to keep you safe. 🛑

Versatile Riding Modes

Whether you’re in the mood for a workout or just a relaxing ride, the BURCHDA R8 PRO has you covered. Choose from Pedal Assist Mode for a power boost while you pedal, Full Electric Mode for a relaxed ride without pedaling, or Manual Mode for a traditional bike experience. 🚵‍♀️

Why Wait? The Future of Commuting is Here!

Transform your daily commute into an exciting journey with the BURCHDA R8 PRO Electric Bike. It’s not just about getting from point A to point B; it’s about enjoying the ride, saving time, and staying eco-friendly. 🌿

Ready to elevate your commute? Check out the BURCHDA R8 PRO Electric Bike at Pogo Cycles and start your adventure today!

Join the Revolution!

Share your thoughts and let us know what excites you the most about the BURCHDA R8 PRO in the comments below. Don’t forget to reblog and spread the word to all your friends looking for a smarter, greener way to travel! 🌟

[soodabe40]

The new cheap Hilo watch has an old display and 7-day charging

Hilo Watch R8 smart watch was introduced with 60 Hz OLED display and various fitness features at a very affordable price.

Advertising

Hailo, the Chinese accessory brand that was once part of the Xiaomi ecosystem, has launched a range of affordable smartwatches.

Some Hailo products are also sold under other brand names. For example, the OnePlus Nord Watch smart watch is actually the Hilo RS4 Plus smart watch .

By publishing a post on Weibo , Hilo has introduced a new economic smart watch for the Chinese market. This device is officially sold under the name of Haylou Watch R8 and provides various features to users.

The Hilo Watch R8 smart watch uses a classic design and is equipped with a 1.43-inch circular OLED display. This product also uses a metal frame.

Other features of the mentioned device include a resolution of 466 x 466 pixels, a pixel density of 376 ppi and a refresh rate of 60 Hz. This watch is also equipped with Always On Display (AOD).

The Hilo Watch R8 smart watch uses Bluetooth 5.3 and is compatible with devices equipped with Android 6 and above and iOS 9 and above. The mentioned device also supports NFC and Baidu Maps navigation system. This product uses a 300 mAh battery and is charged wirelessly.

[kensdiecastcars]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Audi R8 V10 Plus Maisto 1/24 Diecast Car NIB.

[zonarapida]

New Audi R8 V10 Plus Performance por M25 Audi Por Flickr: The New Audi R8 V10 Plus is capable of 198mph thanks to 550hp and 540Nm of torque. Find out more about the New Audi R8 V10 Plus: www.m25audi.co.uk/audi/new-r8/new-r8-v10-plus.html

[autocarlife]

Audi 💙

[djarinsbeskar]

NEW REPUBLIC ARC: PART 3 - DEPARTURES AND DISTRUST

A/N: Thank you so much for your patience while I finished up the Kinktober entry of "A Sensual Summoning"! This was initially meant to be only one part but with the final draft over 21k, I figured it might be better to split it in two. On the plus side, that means I will be posting the next part in the next few days! I know this part might seem a little slow (and the smut is in the next part I'm sorry) but I hope you can enjoy it nonetheless!

Please see the notes at the end for explanations of lore mentioned and any creative liberties I’ve taken with it.

Word Count: 9.5k

Pairing: Din Djarin/Fem!Reader

Rating: 18+ (NO Minors)

Warings: Language, injury detail and death.

Summary: Din’s recklessness this time was a step too far.

Stitches Masterlist | Main Masterlist

The necrosis of tolerance towards you began almost as soon as Kai left for Pamarthe.

Part of you always knew things would change. That the radar you were flying under would finally pick up on your presence when the cloak of Kai’s influence disappeared.

It might have been the feeble recourse of your mind to exclude such a possibility in strengthening your resolve to stay, or maybe a last-ditch effort to disprove your budding hypothesis that the New Republic were strangers to you now.

Your results, however, proved your reluctant theory as fact.

Any history of fellowship and bonds of trust were erased with the transition of Rebel Alliance to New Republic, and your every step was observed with guarded suspicion the people-pleaser in you wanted to improve upon. The pride in you refused such a desire, knowing you had nothing to prove to people who had seen as much of war in their lifetime as you had in a single week during the height of the Rebellion.

As a result, the steadily decreasing test tube of tolerance bubbling above the burner of stalwart malcontent relied solely on your abilities as a medic. Had you not proved an invaluable asset to Belt and his operations – which were in his words, sorely understaffed at the best of times – you feared you would have been confined to your quarters for the entire duration of your stay.

Like a prisoner. Like an imperial.

You could sense their stifling presence as you stood by the gold streaked wings of Kai’s starfighter, a resolute determination in the gracefully proud posture you exuded to ignore their burgeoning grip around you.

Kai wasn’t fooled.

It was evident in the lingering hold of his eyes in silent understanding, the pinch of his brows, the clench of his gloved fist while R8 beeped about the status of the flight checks. Even with the commanders express orders to leave you in peace, the general could just as easily pull rank and dismiss them, making your life on the Star Cruiser a living hell.

It might have been the reason that prompted him to ask you one more time to come with him. A cautious rumble of a man too accustomed to loss and wary of letting another loved one out of his sight again, honey warm eyes imploring as they bore down into yours. There was an unguarded intimacy to eye contact, one you never realized was so… important until you were unable to properly meet Dins’.

“You’re sure about staying?”

You hesitated for a moment before telling him no, wondering if perhaps you should go with the pilot. But a brief smile in the direction of the open space field just beyond the gravitational barrier of the hanger, was all he needed to release a defeated sigh—knowing the reason immediately.

The muttered, “I can’t, Kai—” met with a chuckle of “I figured as much,” while his hand found the back of your neck affectionately. Pride dulled the edge of defeat in his gaze. He knew you weren’t about to abandon Din, regardless of the frigid atmosphere he had witnessed between you days before. What that said about your relationship in the eyes of someone you knew all your life, was sobering.

His hand at the back of your head led you closer, his lips finding your forehead in a gesture of familial affection you hadn’t experienced in so long, so much so that the sting of tears treacherously welled behind your eyes once more.

Clad in more casual attire of an open rust leather jacket and slim black cargo pants, his blaster strapped dutifully around his thigh—he was dressed much more befitting of Pamarthe than the stifling rigidity of the New Republic uniform.

He mumbled something against your forehead about simply covering his own ass for when Kyr inevitably confronted him about why you weren’t with him, and made you laugh with an affectionate tinkle. A common superstition on the oceanic planet—asking thrice ensured you weren’t refusing out of politeness or embarrassment. That should quell the older stags protective ire towards Kai, and you were thankful for it.

Things seemed fraught enough between the brothers as it was—if the tightness in Kai’s features was anything to go by whenever his brother was brought up.

A trickle of worry ran down your spine with a chill. Kyr and Kai were thick as thieves in your memory, loyal to each other with an admirable kinship others aspired to have. A well-oiled machine that guaranteed Kyr’s prosperous reign as chieftain with such a brother to support him.

Something happened…

You had an inclination, but it was something you knew wasn’t your battle to fight. Or – as you had a bad habit of doing – stick your nose into something that didn’t concern you with unwanted opinions.

You shook your head, dispelling the thought and wrapped your arms around the taller man, his chest a familiar comfort and the strong beat of his heart soothing as it blended with the smell of the sea, pine forests and smoking hearths. He ran a glove down the back of your head and kissed the top of it where – with a deep inhale – you suspected he was finding comfort in similar scents.

“Try not to disappear for another five years on me, okay fawn?” he muttered into your hair and you squeezed your arms around the solid strength of his middle, suddenly very aware of how much you loved Kai. How much you missed him in the years after the Rebellion. How much you would miss him again now that he was leaving.

You nodded silently, not ready to be parted from yet another person, but ultimately knowing that this wasn’t just his decision to leave, but your choice to stay. You pulled out of his hold and he chucked his knuckles under your chin with a fondness fostered over many years of friendship. Your gaze dropped to his black boots to hide the sheen of pesky emotions your logical mind told you were unnecessary.

“I’ll tell Kyr you’re okay,” he brushed a thumb under your eye to catch a crystal traitor that escaped over the edge, capturing it—helping you maintain the imitation of your unwavering composure with a wink, “better than okay.”

You chuckled with a watery warble, farewells never so difficult as those times when you had no idea when you would see him again. It never got any easier.

“Tell him he’s his own worst enemy,” you sniffled, rubbing your nose to hide the nostalgia playing across your features, “I know he’s a great rhaer.”

You knew – quite intimately – the pressures Kyr was likely putting himself under to do right by the many people who looked to him as their leader. It was a trait you shared, that willing self-sacrifice for those in your care; one you could empathize with and one of the reasons the brooding stag always played favorites with you.

Kai chuckled, low and deep with a slow shake of his head,

“And we all know you’re never wrong,” he teased, “you’re gonna freak him out with that assessment, fawn—even from the other side of the galaxy.”

You did laugh then, a free sound of warmth and innocent amusement at the thought of the stoic man’s reaction.

“Serves him right!” you defended yourself with an indignant sniff, turning your nose up with righteous – overdramatic – exasperation as you folded your arms across your chest. Kai arched a thick brow, his grin lopsided in his amusement.

“I still haven’t forgotten how much he laughed at us after we got lost in the Snags that time we followed him and his friends.”

“You were like seven—” Kai snorted at your uncanny memory.

“And I was curious,” you huffed, “I recall it being your idea anyway—pouty because you wanted to be like your big brother exploring the scarier parts of the forest.”

“If he was allowed that far, then I should have been too!” A hint of petulance entered the suave commanders tone.

“He was sixteen, Kai—"

“And?”

“You were, what—twelve?”

“What’s your point?” Golden eyes narrowed in playful warning.

“That I wasn’t the only one crying by the time your father found you, Rhydian and I huddled together amongst the tree roots hours later!” you exclaimed with a thrill of victorious delight hiding the sadness of Kai’s imminent departure, “Now that I think of it, maybe I should be blaming you for that and not Kyr for laughing.”

Kai’s ears darkened with color, a heat rising to his handsome face and you smirked at his embarrassed huffiness. Kai was a terrible liar, and when he lifted a fist to cough into it awkwardly at the memory, your laughter bubbled over again.

“Talk about holding a grudge—” he grumbled.

“You’re one to talk,” you rebuffed easily, poking his chest in mock threat.

The younger Carria brother was just too easy to tease and he knew it when he caught your hand with a teasing tug in order to get you close enough for him to tickle your side in vengeance. You involuntarily released a shriek of laughter, trying to get away and the accompanying deep laughter of your friend lightened your heart before the storm of recollection cast over your good mood.

But it was a momentary distraction at least. A reprieve from the ever looming shadow of the New Republic and a tentative step by both of you towards an ability to reminisce without it being tinged with pain and loss. A visit to memories of a time before the war, before the evisceration of so many in Clan Carria and the acres of now vacant land that was once home to so many.

A call from a space traffic controller that Kai was clear to begin take off procedures and move out cooled the atmosphere and your smile fell from big and bright to small and bittersweet.

“You have my ships’ transceiver code?” he checked for what must have been the fifth time that morning, the roll of your eyes making him placate you with a series of okay okay okay—

“Contact me through that if your Mandalorian decides to come to Pamarthe,” he explained as he climbed up the closed S-foil of his ship to drop into the small basin of the pilots seat, “the council have been insulating the planet more severely since the war.”

Kai continued to chat as you stood up nimbly on the S-foil, leaning your arms over the lip of the open cockpit to look in at him completing his checks while you frowned.

Insulating?

A glance of golden eyes to yours, and he caught your silent question.

“They’re still recovering—” he muttered and your stomach clenched, “it’s difficult to get clearance to land if you’ve not been scheduled.”

The attacks on Pamarthe had been notorious during the Rebellion when the planet collectively turned on the Empire after the destruction of Alderaan. An insignificant blip on the radar initially, but with the skill of Pamarthen pilots—that blip soon turned into a torpedo. The Empire made the strategic move to strike where it hurt, and many pilots – clannish and loyal – deserted in order to return and defend their home.

Kai still hadn’t forgiven Kyr for that it seemed…

“Even for a native?” you asked warily.

Pamarthe had never been particularly well integrated in the galaxy – happy to ignore and be ignored by the big politics of the Core – but it was never a hostile planet.

“Is there a Pamarthen under that beskar, fawn?” he asked by way of answering and when you couldn’t give an answer – where was Din from, anyway? – he nodded knowingly, “Thought so.”

“These are trying times, fawn,” Kai echoed the sentiment of the pilots who had found you on Maldo Kreis, “people are still scrambling to figure out what side of the line they fall on after the war.”

Your brows pinched, but you considered his words as he spoke, resting your chin on your arms folded over the lip of the cockpit and traced your eyes around the hanger skeptically.

“It’s easier to proceed with caution and consider everyone an enemy until the can be sure of the contrary.”

You nodded, lips pursing into a subconscious pout as your mind raced with the turmoil still being experienced by your home planet.

Kai’s R8 astromech droid beeped happily in binary from his spot further down the ships body, clearing his checks for take-off. You smiled, R8-B1 was a charming droid, black and white with bespoke gold accents no doubt a gift from his owner. He had kept Kai alive since he received the little guy during his first mission as part of the Rebellion, and you had a soft spot for him because of it.

“Okay, buddy—got it,” he answered easily, pulling his helmet over his head as you jumped back down onto the metal flooring of the hanger and looked back up at him.

“May Amhra guide you along gentle paths, fawn—you and your Mandalorian,” he bid you, a small smile lifting his lips despite the twinge of sadness you noticed in his eyes.

“And Llyrian calm his tides for your return,” you finished the traditional farewell in an out-of-body experience that sounded both foreign and familiar on your tongue after so many years. A few steps back and the gearing-up gust of wind from the starfighters engines made you lift your hand to your forehead so you could see him take off.

You missed him already.

You hadn’t seen Kai in over five years and likely wouldn’t have seen him for longer if your paths hadn’t crossed by the happenstance of a damaged ship and a randomly activated gravity well projector.

Yet you felt this parting more deeply than before. Perhaps, it was because you were the one watching him leave, instead of always being the one who left first—chasing that desire for more, being chased by that fear of the past. On Pamarthe, on the Liberty, on Klatooine, even on Dandoran—you were the one choosing to leave.

It was a melancholic position to be in, the one left behind.

Watching Din leave on hunts, watching Kai leave now. You dreaded the day you would see the child leave you for good. Even being parted from him in this one instance, you felt the absence as hollowly as you felt Din’s. Knowing you might lose him forever – if you hadn’t already –made a direful quicksand entrap you ever deeper as soon as you thought about it.

An awful, selfish part of you considered not mentioning what was happening on Pamarthe to Din. Maybe you could just… not say anything. It wasn’t lying perse… but—maybe it would give you more time, longer to come to terms with seeing the child go.

You weren’t ready yet.

You feared you never would be.

You sighed.

You couldn’t do that to him… your mind supplied reluctantly.

Sitting on information – even if it proved to be obsolete – would be the equivalent of watching someone bleed out when you had the tools to stop it.

You wouldn’t do that to him… your mind spoke more forcefully this time.

This task, this mission was already taking a toll on Din. Regardless of how angry you were with him, you wouldn’t lead him on a wild goose chase when there was a possibility there was a Jedi right under your noses on a planet you knew better than the back of your hand.

The hanger was still as busy as it had been minutes ago, but now felt empty and cold as you wrapped your arms around yourself for warmth. You turned back in the direction of the infirmary, Belt likely spitting fire at how long you had been gone. At least there was someone you knew was on your side without question, someone who worked you to the bone granted—but it was a welcome distraction. Helping people, healing them—the familiarity of being useful was a safety net of comfort you wrapped yourself in.

How were you to prove yourself useful to Din, in a language he would understand? It felt as though you had exhausted every interpretation, every method and were still coming up short.

Just like Belt, Din responded to action—not words.

Tell him why, not how… Kai’s words resurfaced from a few nights before, making you chew miserably on a tangle of scripture you had no codex to translate the why. Offering him this information, proving – once again in your opinion – that you could be an asset to the mission, would be your last attempt—the last time you tried. Your ego could only handle rejection so often.

As it was, Pamarthe – and the Jedi possibly lurking there – were the last of your concerns as Kai’s starfighter blinked out of sight as he disappeared into hyperspace and the curtain of pretense fell in sheets of brittle glass barely holding itself up under its own weight.

Your strongest ally gone, and the sulfurous chokehold of the New Republic began to gradually cut off your airways, bruise the fragile tissue of your windpipe and trust, and make the bones of your pride creak and crack the more time went on and Din still hadn’t returned.

The torniquet the general – and the New Republic by extension – twisted to cut off the circulation of your movements and stem the flow of interaction you were able to have with people on the Cruiser, increased exponentially as soon as Kai was gone.

The bright light of his protection – one that kept the shadows of judgement and hostility at bay – dimmed the further away he flew. The weaker that glow became, the more those phantoms crept closer.

You might have thought yourself paranoid, trapped in an aquarium tank filled with the water of New Republic ideology you had since evolved beyond breathing. The necessary gills of ignorance missing from your body, and the water filling your lungs—drowning you for your lack of compliance. Spectators with hidden faces, bright teeth bared as they whispered in hushed tones at the display, and failed to lift a finger in assistance as you thrashed for their entertainment. A consistent whisper of she shouldn’t be here, she shouldn’t be trusted the soundtrack to your demise.

You hated every moment of it.

By your nature, you detested mistrust and struggled to ignore it. Despised the idea that on one hand, these people would use you for your skills and then slander you the moment they had been patched up. Some might call it pride, others a crippling need for validation—you called it self-respect.

You refused to walk in shame, to hide yourself with bowed head and averted eyes to avoid the whispering masses as you were escorted your quarters, to the infirmary and back again.

Every second you weren’t in the infirmary was spent trapped in the square, soulless room with its’ soft bed and comfortable settee and warm shower. You could enjoy none of it when you knew a presence lurked outside your door, monitoring it for movement. The only control you exerted, was when you left that room and when you left the infirmary.

Once you stood outside Belts’ realm or the privacy of your room, you were under the strings of the generals puppeteer.

Your shadow had returned with a vengeance. The farce of giving you the illusion of independence evaporated when it doubled to two escorts who stood either side of you as you walked to and from the infirmary.

It was a show, you realized halfway through that first mortifying march towards the atrium on your way to the cantina the day Kai left. A show for the hissed malcontent of several loud voices that satiated their need to see you punished in some way. You knew better than that though. General Si-Flachitt was not a female easily moved by the opinions of others. She wasn’t pressured. She did this because she wanted to. Because, by her morally stringent code, you were not on the New Republics side, and were therefore a villain of some kind.

Funny.

In another life—another time perhaps, you could see yourself and her being friendly almost. She respected hard work, as did you—and had a no-nonsense attitude when it came to getting things done that you admired. But, as it was—you encountered each other on – ostensibly – different sides of a fight you had no idea was taking place.

The New Republic vs everyone else.

Call it arrogance in your pride—but you flatly refused to do it the evening after Kai left, a mere six days after you arrived and Din stormed off. It frayed your nerves—panicked you that you were so… observed. It made your hands tremble when you caught sight of your shadows outside the double doors of the infirmary, slamming the pipet of bacta concentrate you were attempting to add to a solution you were concocting.

The noise had turned everyone’s attention in the room to you but Belt – who would usually have blown up at such a display – was silent as you passed by him with a mumbled excuse of needing a short break.

That evening, you offered to take the graveyard shirt.

Usually uneventful throughout the night, a medic was, however, always available around the clock on the Cruiser. You had been expressly forbidden from working alone, but the medic you were relieving jumped at the chance to avoid the long, boring hours spent alone in the infirmary.

Your reasons were selfish.

You were totally unwilling to be led through a curtain of people you spent your days tending to, suspicion and contempt in their gaze. It was a complete shut down in your tolerance. You didn’t even want to see your shadows, nor the faceless jury of a biased trial.

You had more to do in the infirmary than the hours spent in your room anyway.

After clearing the swap with Belt, the Chiss waving away the request with an impatient, “yes yes sort this out between yourselves” your spirit lightened somewhat at the knowledge that you wouldn’t have to face the masses this evening. The confrontation, the fallout, whatever you wanted to call it—was pushed back a few hours at the very least. A few hours were all you had to go by when pondering the what-if’s of Din’s return, and the chasm of time stretching ever further led you down a spiral of guilt and anxiety.

You distracted yourself the best way you knew how, by being productive.

Having the New Republic inventory of pharmaceuticals and standards at your disposal was too tempting to ignore, and you set about making a liniment you had created several years ago for joint pain. It was nothing outstanding, a humble cream that was likely already on the market at extortionist prices, or counterfeits with cheaper ingredients in local shops.

You simply couldn’t help yourself, not when you thought back to all the people you had met on your travels with Din who could have benefitted from it.

Not when your mentor himself was one of those recipients.

Belt was a proud male.

Tall and dignified, he was an imposing presence who walked with confident strides and worked with expert dexterity.

But he wasn’t as young as he once was.

You appreciated his desire for independence, his dismissal of assistance and the strength it took on a personal level to keep going. As such, you never told him to take it easy, to relax, to rest his weary bones. It would be an affront, a grave insult that would incite the Chiss’ fury like nothing else.

You didn’t pity Belt, and you wouldn’t have him think you did.

So, you did what you always did where Belt was concerned—you impressed him.

Instead of waxing diluted words of care and consideration – things Belt had little time and no use for – you worked on a solution, a relief to make things easier for him without drawing attention to the fact that you both knew he needed it.

You remembered presenting the first tub of liniment to him years ago. It must have been seven at least as you mentally tallied the years while measuring out your ingredients now. You had simply handed it to him under the guise of needing an objective evaluation.

It was during a lull in the war, a rarity then. You told him how you had adapted the formula as he twisted the top off the unassuming container to peer into it with peremptory carmine eyes. A rushed explanation of what you expected the results to be followed by a request for any feedback to help you improve on it.

He had grizzled at you – “do you think I have spare time to be looking at your little passion projects?” – before turning on his heels and pocketing the tub nonetheless. A week later, and the Chiss ambushed you at the sink, blue hand slamming the half empty tub down beside you.

“I don’t need assistance, girl,” he had growled.

“I don’t think you do,” you had agreed easily.

His crimson eyes, ringed with navy lashes narrowed dangerously, the low glow of his irises in the harsh light of the infirmary intimidating to weaker willed individuals. You merely spared him a momentary glance before dropping your gaze back to what you were doing. He clicked his tongue – annoyed – you hadn’t done anything he could snap at you for yet.

“Why did you use bactofen?” he had asked after a beat of silence, the combativeness of his arrival abated once he read your lack of pity, your flippancy in creating such a thing.

“It’s an easily accessible muscle relaxant. Fast working for the price and it kicks in before the pain medication,” you reeled off easily, signing off the prescriptions you had been writing for your regulars the next day,

“Since it’s a topical treatment, I found that by having a staggered effect time in loosening the muscle surrounding the joint first, it’s easier for the liniment to sink deeper and work more effectively at the source of the pain rather than on the symptom.”

Belt had blinked, turned his gaze back to the tub and twisted the cap off while you adjusted the inventory count and placed the remaining medication back in the secured cabinet. You turned your full attention on him then, when your task was complete and caught him lifting the tub to give the cream a quick sniff with his superior sense of smell.

“You used a type of bark in this? It’s gritty on the skin—”

“White willow to be exact, I’m still trying to figure out how best to reduce the grittiness unfortunately.”

He grunted, encouraging you to continue.

“Back home, white willow bark has been used for centuries. When crushed to a paste, it makes for an excellent anti-inflammatory. Really fast acting, fewer side effects since it’s a natural substance and I’ve yet to find anything that works as well in more synthetic forms.”

He crossed his arms across his chest and leaned a hip against the counter, examining your face as though seeing you for the first time. Perhaps you were as good a medic as others claimed.

“I figured, why not just try it?” you finished with a shrug, heat rising to your face after explaining your project to one of the galaxy’s most prominent figures in the medical field.

He scooped up a glob of the cream, dotted with that slightly gritty silver throughout from the bark and rubbed it between his fingers.

“You’ll need to sort out the consistency if you want me to sign off on it to proceed with mass marketing and further study,” he baited, the tightness of disdain kept contained to just the pinched look on his features. Say what you will about his bedside manner, but Belt was a firm believer – and practitioner – of not making medicine a ‘for profit’ business.

“I’ll work on the consistency, but—I don’t need that other stuff,” you brushed away some of the pesky strands of hair that still – to this day – fell into your face regardless of how you tried to keep it back, “I don’t have any desire to market something bigger companies will just rip off—put their ‘reputable name’ on and then charge ten times the price for,” you explained easily, “if I can make it myself, show others how to do it too—and provide it where needed, that’s enough for me.”

To this day, as you ground the bark in your mortar diligently, you couldn’t recall Belt ever being left speechless before. You chuckled when you recalled his response when he finally found his words again,

“You’d make a terrible entrepreneur.”

You had merely patted his forearm on your way out with a “A tub is good for a month. You can make it yourself or I can, up to you.”

You snorted in amusement now at the memory of his snappy retort, “Do you think I have time to be making up liniments? Next you’ll be asking me to thread your needles—get back to work.”

So, you continued to make it for him, right up until you left for Klatooine.

The Chiss male was more than capable of making it himself, and doubtlessly had been in the years since you had last seen him going by the ease with which he moved, but you wanted to make him some yourself, for old time’s sake.

You should’ve known that no good turn would go unpunished, and the general was just waiting for something to pull you up on.

Working through the night might have been a good idea at the time – and you were happy with the several tubs of liniment you had made – but you were dragging your feet when Belt walked in an hour before the first patient was scheduled to arrive for a procedure.

Looking pristine and put together as always, he balked when he found the infirmary already set up for the day. Patient charts in order of arrival, prescription renewals prepared, tools sterilized and laid out in premade basins for initial contact with an emergency case.

Just another way for you to avoid leaving.

Crimson eyes scanned the area before landing on where you sat perched on one of the gurneys and sipping on your third cup of instant caf that morning, the only type available within the infirmary itself.

You bid him a good morning and a grunt was all you received in return. It was as close to a greeting or thank you as you were expecting to receive. He stalled by his desk at the back of the open space, and a smile – tired and small – spread on your lips which you hid behind the biodegradable disposable cup. His long fingers trapped the familiar tub and lifted it to roll in his palm.

His spine straightened.

“Playing chemist all night, were you?” he called out and you laughed in response while he grumbled, “some things never change.”

He clicked his tongue, pocketed the liniment and with the arrival of the first patient, it all went downhill from there.

“Do you believe in magic?”

Belt looked across the body between you as though you had ten heads and all of them wanted to know whether he preferred boxers or briefs. He probably wasn’t the best person to ask about the topic that had been stewing in your mind since Din revealed what he knew about the child all those months ago.

Belt was a male of science, and believed in what he could see and touch and study—very much the mentality you possessed up until recently, which was where your issue stemmed—your struggle to connect what you believed with what you saw.

But he was also the most intelligent person you knew, and you held his opinion in high regard. You needed some of that surety, something as impressive as Belt’s opinion in grounding your own flagrant scramble to re-evaluate everything you knew.

“What in Malachor are you talking about?” he asked in exasperation, the surgical cap covering his neat navy hair speckled with silver and hiding the wrinkle in his forehead as he frowned—gaze dropping back to the neat incision he had made below the belly button to the right in order to carry out an appendectomy you were assisting in.

You shrugged a shoulder, thankful for the surgical mask covering most of your face as you moved the suction to clear his line of sight to the ruptured appendix.

“I just mean… do you believe in things that can’t be explained by science?”

“Tch,” he exhaled sharply, as though you were asking the most basic question in the world, “everything is magic until it’s explained, girl—”

You blinked.

Well, that certainly wasn’t the answer you had been expecting to hear. Complete rejection or dismissal? Probably. Intrigue? Possibly. But acceptance? You scrambled, your mind furiously gathering pages of logic and reason you had been using to explain away or define what had been happening with the child, on Vrogas Vas, on Pamarthe.

Your body didn’t betray the chaos going on in your head as you took hold of the grasper, ready to cinch any laceration to the intestinal wall closed while Belt expertly cut out the obsolete organ. Your eyes flickered to the patients vitals, your mind burning with curiosity but you knew better than to rush.

“What about… people who practice magic?” you ventured to ask after it was clear the Chiss wasn’t going to say any more on the topic of magic itself.

You winced internally at the warning Din had made not to mention anything about the kid or the Jedi, but—well, hadn’t you already failed in that regard when you talked about it with Kai? Belt, however, was a different kettle of fish altogether. He was shrewd—sharp-minded and much more likely to put two and two together, so you needed to be careful.

His brows lowered over his eyes as he glanced up at you momentarily before falling back to his work.

“Chiss aren’t known for their connection to the Force, if that’s what you mean—” he said and you paused.

The Force.

That was what your brothers called it too, but – if you recalled correctly – it was a power used against the Rebels and their allies. An evil power. That was what you assumed it to be anyways.

“That’s—the ability to move things with your mind, right? A type of telekinesis?”

Belt hummed noncommittally, snipping the last thin line of tissue connecting the appendix to the large intestine and placed it in a tray hovering beside him.

“In some respects, yes—” he agreed, shaking a can of an anti-bacterial mist that would coat the disrupted tissue and speed up the healing, “how do you think the Emperor remained as powerful as he did?”

The Emperor? Despite your ravenous curiosity, the Empire and its evils were a ‘don’t ask don’t tell’ topic. A mutual understanding that spreading gossip of their atrocities would only result in sleepless nights so you actually knew very little fact and a lot of fiction.

You were silent, absorbing the information as quickly as that shiny pink muscle was absorbing the bacta-infused mist.

“So, the Force is an evil power, then?”

If the former Emperor used the Force to seize and maintain power for nearly two decades, maybe Din was right. Your mind travelled back to the Mandaorian’s assertion that the Jedi had been an ancient enemy to his kind, a fact that would make sense if the former Empire was built on such a power.

If the Jedi were an enemy – a foil – to the Mandalorians… and Din being the only Mandalorian you knew—then they must be evil, right? For, if Din embodied the true nature of Mandalorians, they could only be good.

Your head was starting to hurt.

“Come now,” Belt sighed impatiently, interrupting the tangle your thoughts had gotten into, “you and I both know that – even scientifically – there is always a balance to things. All light casts a shadow, it’s the same principle with the Force.”

Cleaning up the incision all the while, you pondered his words—they made sense theoretically, but you were struggling to rationalize how a power that had been used by the epitome of oppression could have a… good side, for want of a better term.

The large, innocent eyes of the child flashed before you. He existed though, and he was goodness itself. Was it just to do with his age? The innocence that all children have before they’re shaped and formed by the barbed hands of the universe?

Belt saw the confusion writ in the furrow of your brow, most of your face hidden by the mask as you threaded the first suture through the edges of the incision.

“Think of it this way,” Belt tossed you a bone as he finished up, “when two forces of equal strength meet—a game of tug-of-war for example, what is the result?”

The synapses of your brain flared with the bright spark of a freshly lit wick engulfing its’ first gulp of oxygen.

“No movement?” you answered.

“Precisely, there’s no motion—nothing changes, because they cancel each other out. Just like with the Force, both good and bad—they balance each other so as to allow the universe to exist in relative harmony.”

“The galaxy was far from harmonious when the Empire ruled it,” you challenged, thinking of the years of tyranny, then of war and now of aftermath. You didn’t think you ever knew the galaxy to be a harmonious place in your lifetime.

“That’s because there was a tip in the scales,” he refuted your argument, a victorious grin in knowing he had you beat when understanding dawned in your eyes with illuminating brightness. Your lips parted under your mask, and your hands regained traction in deftly stitching the laceration closed where you had slowed.

Interesting…

Maybe you were both right then.

That was a possible outcome you hadn’t factored in. The answers of absolute good or absolute evil compromising the confidence you each had in each other’s methods and mentality around the Jedi and how to find them. It blinded you to the reality that good Jedi and bad Jedi were equally as likely to exist as the other.

You continued to chew on his words, proficiently tying off the end of the bacta-laced thread and snipping it short so it wouldn’t catch on anything when the patient moved. They were taken by another medic to recovery shortly thereafter.

Perhaps… you had better learn to listen, and accept that other opinions could be as equally correct as your own was.

Belt wandered here and there behind you once he had won that debate, pulling up the patients chart on his datapad after he had tossed his gloves and washed his hands to report on the procedure.

“Why are you so curious?” he asked when you didn’t say anything else on the matter, the guarded undertone like a parent questioning giggling children with the instinctive knowledge that they had been up to no good. You flashed him a smile to dismiss the sharp glint of intuition growing in his eyes.

“No reason, just—something Rhain mentioned before—” before he died…

You didn’t need to finish that sentence for Belt to understand, though you could tell he was still curious as to what had you thinking about something your long dead brother had remarked upon years before.

“Senator Orga—”

Whatever he was planning on saying was interrupted by the frosted double doors sliding open to allow the sound of multiple footfalls to enter. You had just pulled your mask, cap and gloves off to dispose of when you saw them. The threshold of your sanctuary breached as four New Republic guards walked in with chilling ease, hands on their blasters that – thankfully – remained at their hips.

You could sense Belt bristle before he even made a move, a hum of preternatural energy whipping around the infirmary as carmine eyes blazed with a fury you never wanted to be on the receiving end of. He tossed the datapad down on the counter, a step towards them that simultaneously put him between you and the guards, and prevented them from moving any further.

One superior officer flanked by three others, none of them seemed injured or in need of a medic. What other reason could they have for being there then, apart from you?

“This had better be good,” Belt snarled, eyes flickering from one face to the next.

“General wants to see the Mandalorians’ medic,” the most prominent guard – confident in the authority he had been given with his orders – tipped his chin in your direction, eyes never leaving the Chiss.

Little did he realize that orders meant nothing once they crossed the threshold into Belt’s lair. The exhale of anger that left the Chiss seemed to remind two of the guards, who took a hesitant step backwards. Threatening anger charged the atmosphere and filled it with an air of intimidation only a fool would ignore.

“She is working,” he spat, “healing your shipmates. I suggest you leave her in peace, Garron.”

It was phrased as a hint. It wasn’t.

The first guard – Garron – broad-faced and barrel chested with a wide nose and pale, freckled skin, actually scoffed at that. You wondered offhand how he passed his psych evaluation or even basic training when he was either too stupid to sense the atmosphere in the infirmary, or too brazen to ignore it.

“Been up to a lot more than that apparently, sneaking around here after dark,” the man explained contemptuously, leaning around the Chiss to look at you with a sneer of malicious lechery. There was a begrudging awareness of your attractiveness in his gaze, an unjust disdain towards you for making him think such a thing about an ‘enemy’.

“Someone has to work the night shift,” Belt explained in clipped, icy tones.

“Not her.”

“And why’s that?” the Chiss defended you as though the suspicious hostility was being direct at him. But for Belt, an insult to one of his medics was an insult to him personally.

“She can’t be left unsupervised, can’t be sure what she gets up to—” a second guard piped up, all three eyes of the Gran pinned on you.

You were startled, rattled by the tabs the general had kept on you even in this sanctuary of healing. It made you paranoid of your room, the fresher—places you thought were private evidently were not.

But how?

Belt hissed something about the integrity of a medical practices independence being compromised by the generals politics but the guards simply ignored the agitated male and looked at you.

“You can either walk, or be dragged.”

Garron laid your options plainly—politely even. But the mannerly way in which he asked – besmirched by the dissolute drag of his eyes down your body – masked a menacing undercurrent that set your brain alight as instinct overtook you with sirens of danger danger danger wailing in your mind.

You didn’t want to go anywhere with them, but you would be damned if you made a scene the way the general and Garron were hoping you would. Si-Flachitt for appearance sake but Garron… likely for a reason to put his hands on you.

“Give me a moment to—”

“Now.”

Okay, then. No standing on ceremony.

“Not alone.”

Relief bloomed in your chest, and you couldn’t prevent your shoulders from sagging when Belt interjected, an insistence that left no room for argument in his accompanying you.

He was a pillar of support behind the guards as they marched you through the atrium and back the way you had gone the very first night you arrived. There was a vindictive pageantry to the timing and excess number of guards sent to get you. Keeping your eyes ahead, you kept your chin up - proud, atta girl – as you made your way through the crowds of spectators, their hunger for your otherness sated by this public procession.

And that was all it was, a façade. A way to soothe worries and ease tensions for those who fretted over matter matters of ‘us’ and ‘them’. No one cared what was actually done with you, only that they could see you were different to them, and how much better a position they were in because they chose to fully align with the New Republic.

His shoulder was killing him.

Well, to be fair—all of him was aching in this damn cramped starfighter. Maker’s Helmet, it was no wonder every pilot he came across was a whippet, having height and muscle mass made for an uncomfortable journey with a bounty in the back and a child snoozing on his lap.

It made the throb in his shoulder worse with how bunched and tense it was. Hours spent in hyperspace confined to the tight quarters of an X-wing was claustrophobic and he itched to move. But there was no room to even stretch his injured limb or relax it as the muscle – too rapidly knitted back together – complained the long journey back through hyperspace. It—combined with the pound in his head from fatigue and blood loss, put Din in a sour mood.

Trapped, sore and irate—he groaned with a warring desire and recoil, when he remembered he still had to deal with not only the general and her minions of “yes ma’am—right away ma’am” but you too.

Ugh.

Residual anger raked through his pain and fortified it. Misguided by anger directed towards himself at how little he actually knew about you. Shielded his wounded form with metal and claws while he recovered. His patience was frayed just by imagining the sharpness of your tongue when you – inevitably – tried to scold him. Maker knew what he would be like when he saw you in person.

The closer the hyperdrive ticked down to the correct coordinates, the more he dreaded a confrontation and the more he dreaded the more irritable he got. It was an explosion waiting to happen by the time he left hyperspace a day later.

The gargantuan Star Cruiser hung in foreboding stasis among the innumerable pods attached like parasitic leaches to the main body of the ship and he flicked off autopilot to fly manually towards the hanger.

His starfighter already cleared for entry and landing, Din didn’t think twice before flying in through the gravitational barrier to land where the orange-suited marshaller signaled through a series of gestures made with illuminated beacons.

Lighter and far faster than the Razor Crest, Din landed tentatively in the same spot he had taken off from, two other X-wings stationed either side. And then he released a long exhale, dropped his head back against the headrest and took his time.

What was likely to follow would be a series of clashes that would only aggravate his already pounding head and test his non-existent patience, so this moment of peace was one he dragged out for as long as he could before entering a war zone equally as detestable as the hostile landscape of Umbara he had escaped from.

Tired eyes cracking open to half-lidded awareness, they dragged around the perimeter of the hanger he could view without turning his head. He caught sight of the Razor Crest, newly repaired and looking heaps better than even before she was damaged on Maldo Kreis. At least he would save credits on how much that would have cost him. Brown eyes continued their surveillance and noted the busybodies rushing to-and-fro from this station and that. But there was no general, no commander, no you.

Worry dripped with all the agitation of a leaky pipe.

Where the fuck where you?

Din wasn’t stupid.

He knew the general would be aware of his arrival the moment he entered sub-light space. The tracking coordinates attached to his starfighter would have pinged the impressive control room of the Cruiser instantly and - if his assumptions about the controlling nature of the general were correct – she would want to know the second he arrived.

But then… so would you.

So where in Malachor where you?

Unless you were distracted…

The image of the suave commander with his easy smiles and handsome features most likely to appeal to females of any and all races rose in his mind and he growled under his breath.

Kai.

Would he find you with the commanders hands running so indulgently over your body as if he knew it as well as Din did? Or maybe he wouldn’t see you at all—but hear those noises made for him coming from the room of another.

The Mandalorian grit his teeth—his jaw ticking with the tension as a whip of anger towards himself slashed against his chest beneath his armor. Maybe he would find you hadn’t done anything… and were as devoted to him as he was to you despite your recent feud. Maybe Din was simply an asshole for letting your non-existent indiscretion fuel an argument he realized was completely pointless.

He grunted, dissatisfied with himself as he rolled his fatigued head forward to begin placing the child back safely in the satchel and opened the top of the X-wing with a hiss of the hydraulic hinges.

He half expected to find out you had murdered the general.

You would be driven mad by the overbearing autocracy the general wielded, and there was a part of him – bruised ego and dominant pride – that found a small amount of amusement at the thought of his disgruntled kitten. You put everyone in this situation, you could damn well suffer as much has he had been forced to.

His shoulder twinged when he pushed the opening of the X-wing open further with a sickening ache deep in his muscle tissue—not a pain, but an awareness of his own physical form that was disturbing and forced a sense of his own mortality down his throat.

Ugh.

What he wouldn’t give to remove his armor. At least his pauldron and chest plate.

But in Din’s eyes, you were all in enemy territory. He couldn’t be shown to be anything but the intimidating, fear inspiring warrior whispered about in the cantinas of the galaxy. He never relied more on that reputation as he did that moment when he stood up in the cockpit to exit, dried blood stained across half his armor and a notorious fugitive unconscious in the back.

The vision of him in silver and red would keep most people at a distance—far enough away from noticing the dark bloodstains under his armor that could only have come from the warrior himself, soiling his flight suit with his own life essence spilled with the brutality a single energy-infused arrow could inflict.

Din jumped out of the starfighter with a virile grace, landing feline and certain on his feet. The flicker of his cape distracted the eye and disguised the grunt and steadying step forward he took as the vibrations ripped through his injured side.

They remained none the wiser, just as Din wanted.

How could someone who had been injured the way he had been not only jump from the height of a starfighter cockpit with ease, but also drag the dead weight of a full-grown human male up over his left –uninjured ­– shoulder, wrists and ankles bound with energy binders pulsing with a low blue glow.

Din did, and it was sheer hubris that allowed him to ignore the throb of pain and exhaustion from the mission.

They faceless masses of New Republic employment might be fooled, but he wasn’t stupid enough to think he would be able to pull the wool over your eyes, wherever you were.

The anthracite grey flooring flanking the paler walkway was just as shiny as it had been the first time you entered the generals office.

Footsteps echoed with every click click click and highlighted the size and emptiness of the chamber. A high ceiling lined with strip lighting of soft blue mirrored the same strip lighting along the pathway to that onyx desk. It set your teeth on edge as you caught sight of the slight Pantoran with her back to you as she looked out her viewport at the busy hanger below.

“What’s this about, Si-Flachitt?” Belt growled, speaking on your behalf and while you disliked people speaking for you, you weren’t stupid enough to turn away an ally like Belt. His influence extended beyond politics, and his experience exceeded even the that of the generals lifespan, you wagered.

Both species with their cool, blue skin differentiated when honeydew eyes clashed with crimson as the general deigned to turn her attention on you both. Belt seethed with unbridged rage at having his day interrupted and a medic he trained under question without cause.

“This doesn’t involve you, Chief Medical Officer,” she brushed him off with a flippant lightness to her tone and her eyes fell to yours, a victorious gleam spelling disaster for you.

“Though,” she held your eye, daring you to look away as she continued to speak to Belt, “disciplinary actions will likely be taken against you for negligence in allowing an unauthorized person or persons such unrestricted access to the infirmary.”

“She’s been under my supervision—I would imagine that mitigates any risk,” Belt barked, unused to having to defend any of his choices to a politician no less.

“Last night included?” Si-Flachitt approached the desk and lowered herself gracefully into the large chair, careful to keep the creasing of her pressed military uniform to a minimum.

Belt stalled, a hand fisting at his side, “She asked for my permission, and I granted it.”

“So she—”

“She is right here,” you growled, sick and tired of this general speaking as though you weren’t in the room.

It was a pity, for a female in such a high position of power—to treat another woman in a position often dominated by males, with reproach and scorn simply because you didn’t fall into the same category of loyalism. You couldn’t expect kinship with every female you encountered, though—you didn’t particularly want any friendship with the likes of the general.

Her eyes turned to yours, lips turned down as she steepled her fingers together from where she rested her elbows on the desk,

“And what, pray tell—were you cooking up last night in the infirmary?”

You blinked.

This… this was about the liniment?

She pressed on when you didn’t immediately respond, a gradual increase of hysterics through cool statements,

“Explosives? Poison?”

“Maker, save me from the theatrics of politicians—” Belt hissed from your side.

Si-Flachitt ignored him, eyes still on yours as you considered what in Malachor this female thought you to be. How did a medic – independent of the New Republic granted – accompanying a Mandalorian equate to… whatever it was she was alluding to. Murder? Terrorism?

It was almost laughable if she didn’t look so serious.

And last time you checked, you still had your medical license. So unless she was on the medical board, you weren’t answerable to her for your work in the field.

But, you decided to play nice. You were on her turf, and would have to wizen up if you wanted to get out of here.

“It’s a salve of sorts,” you began, straightening your shoulders despite the budding mortification of truly being considered an enemy, “it alleviates joint pain and assists with movement throughout the day.”

“You’re young and fit—” she started snidely.

“But I am not,” Belt bit out, interrupting the general, “she makes it for me as a favor, as a friend.”

Surprise flashed across the Pantoran’s features before she schooled them back into an unreadable impassivity that would put even Din’s helmet to shame in its coolness.

“A Mandalorian lover and the loyalty of a Chiss, you are an interesting one—” she quipped and the color drained from your face. Was she just extraordinarily astute, or had her ears been open to your conversations with Kai as well?

Did he know?

No. You stopped that thought in its’ tracks.

Kai would be furious to know such intimate, personal conversations about him – let alone you – were being tapped.

“What can I say,” you remarked, masking your surprise the only way you knew how, “some of us are actually likeable.”

Sass.

By the snort of amusement Belt couldn’t hide and the lilac blush that surfaced on the Pantoran’s cheeks, you were confident enough to assume you had succeeded and bit the inside of your cheek to contain your own victorious smile.

“Liked or not, I have the authority to imprison you for reckless endangerment if I see fit—” she retorted and you scoffed.

“Reckless endangerment? Maker, if white willow bark and bacta are considered dangerous chemicals then you better put me in binders—only, then you’ll have to put everyone who’s ever used those ingredients behind bars as well.”

“Don’t test me, insolent girl,” she snapped at you.

“Or what?” you exploded, slamming your hands down on the desk with a growl even Din would be proud of, and as your teeth bared in a feral show of malcontent, the doors slid open and the silhouette of that very Mandalorian filled the doorframe.

Din.

He was back.

Notes:

1. Llyrian - Pamarthen sea god.

2. Amhra - Pamarthen goddess of weather and winds. Wife of Llyrian and mother to Awhan (Ah-won), god of rivers.

3. Bactofen - A play on the real life medication baclofen, a commonly used muscle relaxant.

4. Medic and the Empire - As hinted in this chapter, Medic does not actually have much knowledge (facts, in her words) about the actual ruling of the Empire. Like many of the trillions of people under their rule, she knew there was an Emperor who was tyrannical. But, unlike what we see in the likes of the original trilogy, she's neither royalty or in a high military position that she would know the intricasies of the Jedi/Sith, the Emperor, Darth Vadar etc. She knows as much as the next rebel whose main goal was to survive and do their part to help liberate the galaxy.

[ryoskuna]

⭑ shaken, not stirred. | bartender!sukuna au.

notes: this thought of bartender!sukuna has been in my head for weeks, but it’s when my mom was giving me a lecture while i was thinking of sketching him as bartender that solidified the fact.  this may become a series thing, and you’re also welcomed to ask questions about this au (please do, it is one of my new favorite things). also i have no idea what reader will be in this au-verse, but i’m thinking a law student (am i self-projecting... perhaps), but i’m open to y’all’s suggestions and can do headcanons for whatever kind of reader y’all want to see. additionally, did i screenshot that picture for the banner from episode 14 bc i thought he looked extra good?? yeah... i did.

warnings: like... mild nsfw via music suggestions, mentions of drink tampering but not from sukuna 

bonus: there’s a playlist that goes with this, here.

taglist: @lethargicyashi, @night-rook, @izuniias, @skys-luce-stellare​, @skys-luce-stellare​

there’s something about 6′4 sukuna shaking a cocktail shaker to toxic by britney spears that just.... chef’s kiss.  no i will not elaborate, just think about it.

sometimes, you think he’s taller than 6′4, but that’s just his platform doc martens.

god, the man chewing on a thin stirring/cocktail straw or just holding it in his jaw, in between his teeth and watch his lips purse around it. he’ll take it out to talk, of course.

the waist apron he wears only emphasizes his shoulder-to-hip ratio

the best seat in the house is literally anywhere you can see him??? like behind him, you can see his back muscles flex, but in the front, you can see his tattoos on his chest peeking out from the fact that he is not going to ever button the top two buttons on his shirt. also, he leaves his sleeves pushed up to his elbows on most nights

tongue piercing, check. both of his ears are pierced, but he tends to change up whether he has just one in or both. 

you find out about the tongue piercing when he does his taste-testing of the drinks he mixes, via the straw drop (take a black plastic straw, dips the straw into the glass, covers the unsubmerged straw end with his index finger to create suction, lifts the straw to his lips, releases his index finger, and "tastes" the cocktail). usually he’ll put the straw in his mouth, but if he notices you’re watching, well, there goes the tongue piercing.

he wears rings, constantly. at least two, one on each hand.

he is a megan the stallion fan (and nicki minaj too, but i digress) and knows most of the words to her songs. his personal favorite is crybaby, and you being his s/o, well, he’ll sing it word for word to you while making drinks at home. he leans in and whispers the real intense/filthy parts like (”uh-uh, don’t fuck me like that fuck me like this”) yeah. he looks like he’s talking normal, but the way his voice drops more and he whispers??? goodbye world. 

sometimes he likes to tease too much while he’s singing and will lean in to lick the shell of your ear or maybe nip your earlobe, who knows

and then he’ll pass your drink like nothing ever happened

also has doja cat on his playlist, but yuji is to blame for that

cherry knot tying king

casual friday for the staff at said bar/establishment, and he’s coming in jeans and a loose tank top, you know, the ones with the drops on the sleeves on the sides??

sukuna is extremely aware of what’s happening in the room at all times. some creep hitting on someone? intervene.  someone trying to spike a drink?? he catches them in the act.  someone spiked a drink???? he just looks at the recipient, tells them to switch with him, and before they can say anything, they have a new, safe drink while he has the tampered one. 

does he grab offenders whether they’re being following creeps, coming on too strong, or trying to tamper with drinks by the scruff of their necks and carry them out personally? yes, yes he does. if you’re there, he’ll wink at you before he gives him a kick on the ass for good measure as he pushes them out the door.

he makes custom drinks for people, like he’ll ask what’s your preference in taste like sweet, strong or whatever, plus two other questions that seem unrelated but he’s managed to make the perfect drink for you 

again, he’s highly aware of his surroundings, so if you’re looking at his back, he knows, and will look over his shoulder to smirk at you, looking you right in the eyes.  (SHEESH)

thinking of him coming in on one of his days off with a ballcap and a tight, dry fit t-shirt on, so by the time he’s working, his hair is a lil messy, and you better thank heaven for that dry fit t-shirt because MUSCLES BABE

is working on his own lil drink recipe book, which means you either get to be his taste tester, or taste it when he kisses you 

this man knows he’s hot, he’s a smug shit about it, and works it to his favor. does he tie cherry knots at work because the women at the bar go crazy and give him extra tips?? yes

but if you’re there, oh sweetheart, he’s actually going to give you the cherry before putting the knot in his mouth to tie, BYE 

also.... hehe, had to mention this but uh... you could bounce a quarter off that ass of his 

he comes home from a late/graveyard shift, and just crawls into bed, smelling like syrup and cologne, just... run your fingers through his hair and he’ll be out in a few minutes

occasionally, he will sleep on the couch as not to disturb you, but the man really is too big to be sleeping on a couch.

if his shift starts at 6, he comes in at 5, hair a little damp from the shower he just took, and in a clean dry fit shirt and tight slacks or dark colored jeans. he’ll either work in the dry fit shirt, or he has a button up he can change into in the back

also??? really decent and will help you get stains out of your clothes if it’s something he can swing to clean in the sink like a shirt

otherwise, he’ll write what you need on a napkin and pass it to you

fucking hates white claws with a passion, ngl

during particularly slow moments at work, you might be able to catch him plucking a few cords on the guitar that sits on stage or poking around with the piano (look, i think he’s very capable of playing instruments and his fingers are good for it)

painted nails!! they’re usually a dark purple or black, occasionally a dark red. sometimes they’re clear, but he’s gotten the idea from when he supposedly was in his emo phase (and learned to keep something on them from breaking from his younger brother’s friend nobara)

likes to dance with you to the songs on his playlist in his minimalistic kitchen in between cooking or making drinks 

at least once a month, you can catch him in a necklace

during the winter months, tight turtlenecks or ribbed long sleeved shirts are his best friends

he also drives a very nice and sleek black car (i’d imagine it’s like a black audi TT or an audi R8) that sits in the back of the parking lot and has a habit of turning his keys on his index finger as he walks towards the building/into work.

bartending might have started as a part time job when he was in college, but it’s something he’s just kept up over the years 

man fills up a lot of space and knows it, even when he’s leaning on his back countertop during breaks or on the bar to take orders with his arms folded over his chest

ANYWAYS. be nice to your local bartender because he can bite. take that as you will.

[itcars]

First Look: The New Audi R8 Spyder V10 plus

The Audi R8 Spyder V10 plus from the workshop of Audi Sport GmbH is the fastest series-production convertible model from the brand with the four rings. Its unmistakable 610 hp V10 mid-engine offers intense driving performance and powers the quattro permanent all-wheel drive. The standard performance program, R8 bucket seats and many components made from carbon fiber-reinforced polymer distinguish this high-performance sports car, with its exclusive micrommata green paint finish giving it a cutting-edge look.

The top model sprints to 100 km/h (62.1 mph) in 3.3 seconds and achieves a top speed of 328 km/h (203.8 mph), an increase of 10 km/h (6.2 mph).

[carsthatnevermadeitetc]

Audi R8 Spyder V10 Plus, 2017. A new version of the R8 which is the fastest ever series-production Audi convertible

[supercartube]

2018 Audi R8 V10

2017 New York Auto Show

#NYIAS  #NYAutoshow