#titano sweat

[evilhorse]

Had to stop because it tastes like Titano sweat.

(Batman/Superman: World’s Finest #34)

[lilyharvord]

The Chain (Part 11)

Hello Darlings, it’s been a long time coming, but here is the next part of The Chain. (: Please know that there is a little bit of forcing in this chapter to make things work, but its called a plot hole, not a plot no (((: Also, she is nice and long for you guys since it has been sometime since she got some TLC. 

I’ve got two words for you all: Time Travel.

Main concept: Two love struck idiots get sent back to a pretty UGH time period in their lives (that required me to reread all the books again) and have to hide the fact that they know everything. Stupidity ensues.

Enjoy

Find the rest of the fic here: Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10

tag list:  @delilahlbard, @king-maven-calore, @thatoddgirl777, @elliekratzzz, @evangelineartemiasamos, @evangeline-of-montfort, @scxrletguardsdawn, @freaky-freiday, @petergrantkavinsky, @kuwei, @whatsup-gorls, @katiemoore,  @redqueenetwork, @tranquil-dusk (I’m trying to add you but for some reason it wont @... the same problem happens with @thatoddgirl777 and I have no idea how to fix it)

(/Mare/)

The barge glides through the murky water of the river and beyond the polished silver railing I rest my hand on, the shore of the Stilts rolls by like a faded oil painting. Ahead of me, hanging over the water, is an old tree Bree once dared me to crawl out on. The branches skim the water like skeletal fingers. I curl my own fingers around the railing in response to the memory of Bree’s laugh. I hope I get to hear it again, echoing in my parent’s town home. 

           The footsteps behind me are too light to be Cal. Even with all the work he has done to learn subterfuge, he is still a large human being. He’ll never be very good at sneaking up on anyone. I force an inhale when warm air washes over my side though. 

           Maven rests his forearms on the railing to watch the Stilts with me, his jaw tight and his eyes dark. I didn’t see him earlier today before we cast off, and I made sure he had no reason to speak with me now. I left nothing in those cells when I rescued Farley, not even a dusting of blood for Elara to use against me. Whatever he has come to discuss, it will define every point from now until the end.

           “Have you heard of the chess move known as the King’s Snare?” His voice is softer than I thought it would be, given how hard the planes of his face are.

           I glance at him warily, chewing on a response. I don’t want to talk to him about chess. I know he’s a master of it, that in all the years they played, Cal never beat him. Cal, the future general and war strategist who could throw together a plan in minutes with nothing but a handful of Reds, Ardents, and Silvers, never beat the boy before me. I don’t know why I think I have a hope of beat him or Elara.

           “No. I don’t play chess.” I murmur letting the wind shift the loose hairs hanging by my cheeks. It plays in his curls too, tussling them like a loving hand.

           The corner of his lips quirk up in a ghost of a smile before he turns to face me. He doesn’t flinch from my gaze, but that smile does fall. Pressing off the railing to stand at his full height, he tilts his head to the side as if in thought. “It’s a complex maneuver, and requires turns upon turns of preparation. It is the only strategy you can play once you initiate it. In each step, you make it appear as if you are losing. You let your opponent think they have won, and in the final step of preparation, you let your queen be taken and your king be cornered in a check mate.”

He shrugs before looking back onto the bank. His eyes sweep along the shacks on their tottering stilts. “Then, you take the opposing king with the only piece you have left. A pawn.”

           I raise a brow at it before saying, “sounds complicated. I don’t have the patience for playing the long game, and I especially don’t like playing with people’s lives like they are pieces in my game.”

           A fire lights in his eyes as he drags them over me, his expression hardening again. “I’m not so sure that’s the truth.”

           His words are a warning in and of themselves. Squaring my shoulders to him and stabbing my nails into my palms, I purse my lips in a line to swallow my retort. We stand in a stalemate for a moment before he reaches a finger out to let a strand of my hair curl around it. His expression crumbles for just a moment before that mask slides up and hides the wounded boy underneath.

           “Let’s not play this game Mare.” He bows his head and his lips almost ghost over my brow. I turn my head to the side to avoid the touch.

           “I just told you I’m not playing games.”

           His chuckle is humorless. With a quick step he closes the space between us completely and I have to crane my neck to meet his eye. 

           “You’re still useful to me and mother, but Cal has overstayed his welcome by a few years. His whole life actually, if I’m being perfectly honest.”

           No more dancing around it then, we are going full in with the truth. I twist my lips to the side, letting my sneer finally grace my features. “If you think for one second I’m going to let you two get away with what you did a second time, you’re wrong.”

           “Even if it means you lose everything you have coming?” He asks me that as if he actually cares. It makes me reel back while he smiles like a wolf. “We know Mare, and while it’s adorable watching you attempt to play against us, you played your final card last night.”

           My lightning dances on my fingertips. What I wouldn’t give for Tyton’s brain lightning, so that I could turn Maven’s insides into jelly and leave him on this deck before going after Elara. I should have ended all of this weeks ago. I could have, I know that for a fact. 

           “I haven’t played any of my cards yet.” I warm Maven with a raised chin. I let the mask of Mareena disappear and I let him see Mare Barrow, the girl who bested two kings, the woman who has seen more than enough front lines, and who was born in a storm on top of a mountain. She has been broken and put back together so many times that she knows every piece of herself better than she ever did before. She thrives in storms and turns them to her will like this boy turns words to his.

           “You haven’t seen anything Maven. Don’t for one second think you have cornered me.” My lips curl into a small smile as I look him over with a critical eye. “Besides, while you’re playing chess, I am playing another game entirely.”

           A muscle in his jaw flutters when I speak, and his eyes darken further.

           Pressing to my toes, I let my next words caress his lips like a kiss. “And if you two do know everything, I’m surprised you haven’t removed any and all letter openers from my reach while we’ve been together.”

           His face pales in a flush, and the air around us climbs in temperature so quickly beads of sweat begin to prickle on my brow. Ignoring the monster I’ve obviously poked awake, I set my hand on his chest right above his pounding heart and drop my eyes to his lips before looking back up to meet those icy blue eyes.

           “And as for your mother, I think I killed her too quickly the first time.”

           His tongue darts across his teeth for a second before disappearing as his lips pull back in a sneer. There is a flash of something akin to uncertainty in his eyes though. A thrill rushes through me. She didn’t tell him that part, and she might have even kept his own death from him. Interesting.

           Sliding back away from him and dropping my hand, I take in his flittering emotions he desperately tries to keep under control. I can’t image what is passing through his mind. If Elara didn’t tell him about their deaths, what else has she kept from him? It might be worth it to poke a little more and find out.

           Even as the thought of prying him open and exposing his hollow insides thrills me, I can’t help thinking of how he spent hours near my bedside after Samson had turned me inside out and left me a bleeding corpse. Nor can I ignore that once upon a time, a part of him had loved me.

           “Oh Maven,” I breathe, my chest aching once more as I look him over. “You could have been something wonderful if you had been anyone else’s.”

           His inhale is sharp, and the heat around us vanishes as he sucks it in to fuel the furnace of his emotions. The next words that leave me are as much a truth as they are a weapon that I use against him.

           “I might have loved you too, you know. I might have been happy with you.”

           His entire body goes taut like a rubber band pulled too tight. I can’t imagine what those words have done to him, I know what they do to me. They relive the ache and chase away the cold bite from the autumn breeze that cuts through my loose shirt. I have known for years that he would never truly leave me, that I will always love him in a strange way. But seeing all of this, and discovering that even when I might have had a chance to save him, there was no chance so long as Elara loved him too.

           “The game is beginning. Line up your pieces if you want to play chess.” I murmur to him before stepping around him and heading for the viewing deck. I pause long enough to glance at him over my shoulder though and say, “but just know, it’s hard to beat an opponent that knows every move you will make.”

(/Cal/)

           Mare finds me between meetings. Her dark hair is swept up in an elaborate hairstyle she picks at nervously, drawing strands out to frame her face. Glancing over my shoulder at the remainder of the council as they pass, I pause before her long enough to say colorlessly, “Is something wrong Lady Titanos?”

           The few sets of eyes that watch us look away with shrugs. Their ears are probably still tuned in, but as far as they are concerned, she is probably looking for Maven and happened to find me first.

           “Farley made contact. The Hexaprin Theater just like before.”

           She’s been gone most of the day with Maven, making appearances and smiling like the dutiful princess she is. I’m not sure how Farley could have possibly made contact with her during all of that, but it’s a relief she didn’t contact Maven first. Meanwhile, I’ve been locked up in Whitefire. My father has hardly let me out of his sight, which I suppose should be understandable. The attempt on my life shook him to his core. Even though I push back, insisting they wouldn’t try again, he refuses to let me leave the castle walls. I don’t know how I will get out to join Mare in this endeavor like she wants with the Sentinels that trail me almost everywhere I go. I guess it now truly understand how Mare felt during her time with us. I don’t blame her for constantly being irritable now. 

Still, my brow rises as the name of the theater. I know it well. When I was younger Julian used to take me to plays and tried to pique my interest in the art form. I had squirmed in my seat the whole time, eager to get out of the dark space and run outside. He gave up once I turned ten, realizing I didn’t have much love for the arts. I knew it saddened him, that he had hoped I shared the same soft spot for them that my mother did. 

My chest tightens at the thought of my uncle. I got him out of Archeon earlier than before, helping him and Sara smuggle away in the dead of night after he got Farley and Kilorn out of the cells. I sent him to Montfort with instructions to speak with Dane Davidson as soon as possible. To try and get him in contact with Guard. There’s no telling if they made it. I can only hope they managed to cross the border.

“It’ll be tough for me to get out.”

“This will only work if you come with me.” Mare insists, her eyes darting past my elbow to the doors of the council chamber. I know who she’s looking for, but she won’t find him.

“He’s seeing to something with his mother.” I instruct, even as I glance around just to be certain. Only a servant passes in a flutter of skirts. She curtsies to me and Mare before hurrying along, obviously loath to be around us any longer than necessary.

“The bloodbase.” Mare’s voice drops to a worried waver as she sets her hand on her pocket. I know she has the book hidden in the pocket of her jacket, the one Julian gifted her with the name of every Ardent he found within Norta’s borders. She sleeps with it under her pillow, her fingers curled around the faded cover as if Maven will creep into her room at night and steal it away.

Shaking my head, I grab her elbow and pull her into an alcove when I hear the sound of more steps approaching. I squeeze into the space between the pillars with her until our bodies almost have to become one to fit. Her hands rest on my chest as she evens out her breathing, recognizing a hiding place when she sees it.

A group of nobles pass us, Osanos and Iral judging by the colors of their clothes. I purse my lips and wait until they leave the hall to look back down at her and whisper. “I took care of it. I printed out all their names and wiped them from the database. They’re safe.”

“Unless Maven is already going after them.” Mare mutters bitterly.

“He hasn’t. I checked last known whereabouts too. Everyone is accounted for.”

“People lie on those stupid records Cal.”

“Not when you’re the first person in years to click on the page.” I let my lips curl into a knowing smile. She can think I’m stupid and hardheaded all she wants, but I do know my way around my own world. “There is a clicker at the bottom of each record to indicate the last time it was opened. I am the first one to look at them in years. You can’t lie to that program.”

           She expels a breath, before look up at me through her lashes. “You’re too stubborn for your own good. We’re meddling too much now.”

           “At this point, does it really matter?” I ask, repeating words I spoke to Julian in the dead of night when he questioned my decision to send him to Ascendent.

           Her lips draw into a tight line that pales her already painted lips. “No.” She agrees before sliding out of the alcove so I can follow her.

           When we step into the light, I watch the shifting sunbeams as they cut across her face. She crosses her arms before looking down the hallway and saying, “We need to get into the afternoon showing. Can you do that?”

           I grimace thinking about my father and the hawk like eyes he has kept on me recently. “It’ll be difficult, but nothing I can’t handle.”

           “Do you want to rehearse with me?” She teases, eyes lighting with laughter when she notices how I chew on my lower lip.

           “I think I’ll tell my father that I’ve decided Evangeline can take a long walk off a short pier and that I much prefer you and I plan to make heirs with you as soon as we enter than theater box.”

           Her eye widen and a blush paints her cheeks. It’s so ferocious the makeup almost can’t hide it. It makes me chuckle before reaching a hand out to cup her jaw and stroke a thumb along that warm puddle of red staining her skin. “Kidding love. Although I think that he’ll be so surprised and horrified that he lets me go just to see if I’m serious.”

           “Mess up my nice skirts Tiberias and I will take your hands for it.” She snorts before pulling away and throwing a smirk over her shoulder. “Get us tickets to the show and be there with me. Also, it might be a good idea to assign Walsh to a... different part of Whitefire.”

           I grimace, remembering the last time I saw her foaming at the mouth while I tried to close her throat to keep the poison from spreading. I sent her for Mare, trusted her with the secret that I met a Red girl in the Stilts and cared. Regardless of what Mare might have thought of me before when that moment passed, I did care. A part of me had been horrified to watch the light leave Walsh’s eyes.

           “I’ll make sure of it.” I whisper.

(/Mare/)

           The theater darkens, and I sink back into my chair, keeping an eye on the Sentinels standing in the doorway. They are here to protect Cal. Allowances had to be made so that he could leave Whitefire, but its an allowance that may cost us our meeting with Farley. There are more of them than before, but they’re simply a hinderance, one that will have to be dealt with at some point very soon.

           Honestly, Maven and Elara trying to kill him has simply become an annoyance now. If they hadn’t, it would be so much easier to sneak around with Cal.

           “They have to go.” I murmur, letting my eyes flint to them as I edge a little closer to the railing of the box and glance over it into the crowd below.

           With a quick nod, Cal leans back in his seat. Before Maven gave the secretary that came with us a mischievous smile and quick order to get rid of our tail. Cal can do no such thing without raising suspicion. It’s already gotten out that I am the one that shouted his name and stopped the bleeding during the Sun Shooting long enough for Sara Skonos to get to him and save him. But Cal spread a faster rumor behind it, his words burning like wildfire through the High Houses, erasing the rumor I know Elara started about us. My shout hadn’t been in fear according to his account, it had sounded like nerves. Maybe I’d lost Maven in the crowd and gotten overwhelmed by the proceedings, and when I had seen Cal I called to him for help. Because of that, I had been close enough to stop the bleeding when the gun went off.

           I had been shocked at the lie he told with an abandon to his father and the court, and how well he crafted it on a moment’s notice. Perhaps he needed to stop spending so much time around Dane. I had noticed that crafty man spending a suspicious amount of time trying to craft Cal into a better Statesman in the recent years.

           “Sentinel Osanos, if you could take the others into the antechamber.” He nods over his shoulder to the small sitting room attached to the box. “I doubt you and the others have any interest in this show and your presence is unfortunately ruining Lady Mareena’s first impressions of it too.”

           “I have my orders, sir.” The Sentinel warns, his eyes darting between the two of us.

           “I can handle anything that comes.” Cal lets his lips quirk into an arrogant smile. I haven’t seen it in a long time, but it’s one of the few soldiers masks in his arsenal. It still makes my stomach flutter. “Besides, Lady Mareena has proven herself quite capable of saving my life if need be.”

           Osanos debates it for a very long second as the murmurs below us quiet and the curtain rustles with the start of the performance. During that second, my heart pounds. I don’t dare look up at the grating above out heads where I know Will Whistle will appear.

           “Of course, Your Highness.” The Sentinel bows his head and then nods to bring the others with him into the room. The door clicks shut, and the lock engages. I grab Cal’s hand and squeeze it in silent praise, before glancing at him side on.

           “Impressive.”

           His smile falls as he looks away from the door and forward again. “We’ll have to be silent. We’re lucky my father didn’t send an Eagrie with us.”

           Unfolding from his position in the chair to relax further, he turns his hand over to lace his fingers with mine. The touch sends waves of reassurance through me. Now we just have to keep him hidden long enough that Will doesn’t recognize him and gets us to Farley. After that, I’m not quite sure what we will do.

           “Farley won’t let you on the Undertrain without a fight.” I murmur, glancing at our joined hands. He sweeps his thumb along my skin in a soothing motion even as his eyes stay forward on the stage as it comes to life.

Gentle touches in the dark, so very like how our relationship started. It almost makes me snicker. I suppose things never really did change between us.

He doesn’t reply to my comment, but I know he’s thinking about it all the same. His palm heats with his frustration, but he doesn’t show it on his face.

I let my eyes wander to the stage where I finally get a look at the play I never watched before. Brightly colored costumes dance across the stage and I tilt my head to look at them, trying to understand the story. “We never went to any of the plays in Ascendent.” I murmur to him.

There were plenty of playhouses, and I know for a fact Julian got us tickets to one he loved. We never got the chance to go, but now I wish we had.

“I’ve never been a fan of theater.” He chuckles and finally turns to look at me. He traded his finer regalia for a more toned down jacket and black shirt today. With the aid of the darkness, I can almost imagine we are in Ascendent, that it’s just another weekend and we decided to do something we’ve never done.

“Then when you annoy me, I am going to drag you to shows when we get back and tie you to a chair so you can’t leave.” I say with a smirk.

The ceiling panel above our heads slides away, and his eyes dart up at the same time as mine. We’re both accustomed to how the Guard functions. The sudden disappearance of the tile doesn’t surprise him like it did Maven.

“Show time.” I whisper to him before dropping his hand and stepping on the seat of my chair. Grasping the edge of the hole I haul myself up into the darkness. When I glance down to help him though, he is already half-way into the crawl space with me. The panel slides into place as soon as Cal vanishes in the shadows. I wait half a second for Will to sound an alarm to notice that I don’t have the right prince with me.

He does no such thing, simply speaks into the darkness the same words he did before. “Be quick and quiet. I’ll take you from here.”

I reach for Cal’s wrist in the dark and grip it tightly with a reassuring squeeze. Will turns and begins to climb through the space, not waiting for us to follow.

“Watch your head,” I instruct as I skirt the edge of the ceiling panel. “It gets low in a few places.”

Cal grunts in understanding but follows at a pace that surprises me. It was a tight squeeze for Maven, so I don’t really know how Cal manages but he does. I’m sure he has Farley’s work with him to thank for that. He crawled through enough sewer tunnels and drains with us while we were at the Notch after all. I’m sure while I was locked away with Maven he was doing the same thing too.

The sounds of the play overhead mask our movements as we drop down ladders and steps and through little trapdoors. Cal only smacks his head once, and I flip around to grab his head to check for blood when he curses soundly in the dark. I grimace when I feel the nasty knot already taking shape on his forehead near his hairline. That will have to be explained away when we get back, but we really truly don’t have time to assess it too much. Will sets grueling pace, and Cal practically shoves me forward when the Whistle almost disappears around a turn.  

It takes only minutes for us to drop into the access tunnels that connect to the Undertrain platform. The damp chill of the space presses through my thin jacket and pants, reminding me of the march we did into Archeon to save Cal and everyone from the Lakelander invasion. Cal drops lightly down behind me though, and instantly the space warms and the memory fades. It’s still too dark to see his features clearly which is only to our advantage. I can’t have Will trying to stop us now.

That cover does not last long though. The platform is haunted by a lone torch, and when Will turns around with a sharp smile, ready to bask in our surprise, his eyes widen as he takes in Cal behind me. I set my hand on Cal’s chest in response, trying to push him back into the shadows while I light my hand with lightning.

Will never gets a chance to act though, the furious screech of the Undertrain as it rushes into the station shakes the walls and announces Farley’s arrival. As it coasts to a stop in front of us, Will spins to the doors and waves his arms while trying to shout over the screeching of the brakes to give a signal to not stop. The train grinds to a halt though, and the doors still open to spill more light onto the platform.

Farley unfolds from the chair like a spring let loose. Her hand flies to the gun at her hip, and I spin to face her with my lightning at the same time. Even with my ears ringing from the sound of the brakes engaging, I can hear the click of her turning the safety off as she draws the gun.

“Farley—” I try to shout, but Cal beats me to speaking, his voice a dangerous warning echoing in the tunnel as he glares Farley down.

“Diana, stop.”

He would have gotten the same reaction if he burned her alive. Farley’s eyes widen at the usage of her birthname, and her fingers wavers on the trigger long enough for me to speak.

“He’s with us.” I urge as I drop my hand, but I don’t dismiss the lightning bouncing between my fingers like webbing. It’s my own warning to her. She knows what I can do, and like her, I don’t miss anymore.

Her laugh is unexpected, and I almost jump at the sharp bite of it. She keeps the gun raised, but her fingers slides from the trigger to rest alongside the barrel. It’s the only sign she is still listening to us. “The little prince was right. He’s whispered his way into your head.”

“The only ones whispering into anyone’s heads is Maven and Elara .” Cal speaks quietly, his eyes scanning the track and the platform for any more Scarlet Guard operatives. There are none to be seen though.

Farley tilts her head to the side, her eyes narrowing to diamond colored slits. Her jaw tightens, but she doesn’t pull the trigger or even move her finger in the direction of it.

I expel a slow sigh of relief and take a step forward. I can feel the burn of electricity in the train, screaming like an upset toddler to be released. Gritting my teeth against the heachache forming because of it, I murmur, “you trusted me to get you out of that cell, trust me in this Farley. Hear us out.”

Her eyes moves past my shoulder to Cal who staggers his stance to move in either direction if he has to avoid her bullet. Her jaw ticks, and the electricity reaches an all time high pitch that stands my hairs on end. I haven’t felt anything like it weeks, not since the shield during Queenstrial exploded around me and tried to contain me.

“Make your decision, the Undertrain won’t wait.” I grimace as I reach up to press my fingers to my temple where the ache is strongest. If she notices my use of the train’s name, she doesn’t say anything.

Cal takes a step forward, stealing ground, only for Farley train that gun on him again and rest her finger on the trigger. 

“Not another step, Your Highness.” She squeezes gently, putting enough pressure on that trigger that even the slightest movment on her part will fire the gun. I side step to put myself in front of Cal should she overestimate her abilities, but Cal simply pushes me to the side again.

With quick movements he unclasps the bracelets around his wrists and holds them up to the light for Farley to see. “Incentive,” he murmurs before tossing them in her direction. She lowers the gun to catch them one handed, almost dropping them due to their weight. I inch forward, my hand extended for them in surprise. I trust Cal to make a tactical decision, but he just threw his own tactical advantage five feet away from him.

The metal bands glint dully in the odd florescent lights of the Undertrain, but Farley glances down at them, unimpressed. With a quirked brow she raises the gun again, although its much more hesitant this time.

“I’m nothing without them.” Cal instructs while he sweeps his arms out from his sides as if to accentuate his point. “Keep them until we finish talking if it pleases you. But we do have to talk.”

“I know.” Farley reasons, her eyes narrowing before darting between the two of us. Even if I didn’t know her as well as I do, I could see the distrust and unease in her eyes. I can’t imagine what Maven has told her, but I know that he hasn’t spoken to her since before the Sun Shooting. It is our only advantage right now, that and the fact that Julian and I were the ones to get her and Kilorn out of the cells below the palace. It doesn’t hurt either that by the time we got down to the cells, the king was more concerned with his son almost dying than the rebels trapped in the cell before him. There had been no time for the interrogation that I know almost cost Farley her arm. She got off easy, too easy, because of us.

Whatever battle she is fighting with herself ends, and she steps to the side to let us pass.

(////)

Narcery is more disheveled than I remember. Perhaps it’s because I’ve already seen most of it repaired and turned into a decent city again years from now. Or maybe it’s because I’ve truly forgotten how downtrodden the world was before we began to right it. Either way, it’s hard not to grimace as we slink through the streets toward the café Farley stomps toward.

The Reds in the doorwards gasp and whisper as Cal passes, and I reach down to grip his hand. None of them are New Blood that I know of, but if someone gets it in their head to finish was Farley started, they won’t make it more than two steps.

He gives me a reassuring squeeze as we pass through the crumbling doorway of the café and into the dimly lit space. In his little booth, Kilorn practically almost leaps to his feet, his eyes wide while his hand flies to the gun on his belt.

“Stand down.” Farley orders smoothly, earning a frown from my friend. He doesn’t immediately listen, but his fingers eventually relax and drop back to his side. I release the tension in my shoulders in response. The air in the room shifts with the change in heat and static that Cal and I bring, but the ice in Kilorn’s gaze might as well be tangible too.

“And why haven’t we shot him?” He asks Farley as she drops into the booth.

With a wave of her hand, she dismisses him and glares in our direction. Cal’s bracelets clink against the dusty table as she sets them out in the open. With a tilt of her head, her expression relaxes and the nasty scar cutting through her lip softens. It never ceases to amaze me how young she really was when this all started. We were all still just children, playing games we never should have.

“They want to speak,” she says, her eyes dropping to our entwined hands. “And I have to admit I am curious what excuse Mare will give to explain blowing our entire operation to pieces.”

“We hardly blew it to pieces, you were almost completely successful.” Cal huffs behind me, and I dig my elbow into his side in response. No use pissing off Farley, or enticing her to pull that gun out again. We both know she will too.

Glaring at Cal for his comment, I address the other two sitting in the booth. “Maven gave you Cal’s name, but he was not the original target.”

“No,” Farley agrees, “he wasn’t.”

“It was Ptolemus Samos.” I turn my eyes back to her, and am rewards with a quirked brow, the only sign she is surprised by my knowledge. Kilorn is not as good at hiding his emotions. His brows dart up towards his hair line as he shakes his head in disbelief.

“You missed that meeting, the one where he gave us the original names! He told us that he never told you them... you can’t possibly have known—”

“I know because I’ve already been through that shooting before. You don’t get Ptolemus that time either.” I step forward and leave Cal behind me, safely in the line of my body. If Farley wants to shoot him at any point in time, she’ll have to shoot me first. “The Sun Shooting was a disaster that time, and it was a disaster this time.”

Kilorn blinks at me, confusion sweeping over his face now. Farley is simply more skeptical, and rightfully so. I didn’t exactly explain anything, just created more questions and puzzling conclusions for her.

“What are you getting at Barrow?” She murmurs as her eyes dart to the broken window behind me. I don’t dare look at who might be there. If its Shade, I will never be able to leave these ruins.

“You have to promise to listen to us, to let us explain as quickly as possible.” Cal speaks for me and the heat that rolls off of him washes over me as he steps closer, soothing tense muscles I bunch in preparation to run. His hand presses into my lower back only a second later. “We don’t have much time.”

Farley’s eyes narrow even further as she takes in how we stand next to each other, and how we remain close enough to protect the other at all times. Even if Maven told her that I was slowly teetering toward Cal, our body language suggests a deeper relationship and understanding of each other than could ever be established in a few weeks. Not to mention Cal knew her name, her real name. There’s no way in hell he could have found that out on his own.

“Who are you?” She asks quietly after a moment, earning a worried glance from Kilorn.

My lips curl into a slow smile as I take in her uncertainty. I can’t remember the last time Farley was on the backfoot. She has always been so headstrong and driven, but she reels back now, like a horse seeing a snake under its hooves. “We’ve all met before, and known each other for years.”

“Bullshit.” She says, pushing to her feet and advancing on me. Cal’s fingers curl around my arm to pull me behind him. I stand my ground though and raise my chin as she stand over me.

“How’s your dad? The Colonel? Has that eye healed up yet?” I ask with a quirked brow. Her breathing fluctuates at the mention of him while she stops dead in her tracks. Her eyes dart to Cal as if to assess how much he reacts to my words. He does nothing but glance down at me and drop my arm, catching on to what I’m doing. Farley won’t be bought over with a cute story like what we told Julian and Sara. She will need cold hard evidence, painful evidence if need be.

“It’s kind of cute that you decided your code name would be lamb, since his is ram.” I tilt my head to the side, earning an strangled inhale as she backpaddles. “Even more so given how infuriating he can be for you.”

Her whole face goes red, and tips of her ears tinge pink immediately. Kilorn opens his mouth to say something, thinks better of it, and closes it again. I don’t blame him, the fury in Farley’s eyes is enough to burn me to the ground.

With her lips pressed into a firm line, she presses her shoulders back to stand to her full height. “Are you Command?” She asks stiffly, her eyes roaming over me and settling on Cal when he barks out a dry laugh.

I elbow him again and shoot a glare, but he laughs at my expression. Turning his amusement on Farley, he says, “no. I’m not even on the list of people they would open a position for.”

“We know those in Command though.” I shoot a single spark into Cal’s arm to shut him up, making him snap back and rub the spot.

“I don’t believe you. Its not possible.” Farley growls setting her hand on her gun.

“I would appreciate you not drawing that gun Diana.” Cal warns his amusement dying as fast as my comfort with the situation.

“Who told you my name.”

“I know it from previous experience.”

“Don’t see how that’s possible.” Kilorn grumbles before rising from the booth as well. His eyes dart between the two of us, and as he starts to form his own opinon the curiosity in his eyes bleeds away into brittle resentment.

“Like I said, we’ve known each other for years.” I push past my locked jaw. This is starting to look next to impossible but if we have any hope of saving ourselves from the disaster to come, then we have to get them to listen to us.

“To be more clear, we will know each other for years someday.” I correct my previous statement quietly, letting the words hang in the too heavy air for a few seconds. Farley quirks a brow, realization crossing her features as she starts to put things together. She’s always been quick as a whip, and that works to our advantage.

Right when I think she’s about to say something though, she laughs. Kilorn blinks at her, taking a hesitant step away. I doubt he’s ever heard the sound, but I know it well. It still cracks on the edges the same way it does in the future. Honestly, it always sounds like she never laughs, even though I know for a fact she does that more than anything someday.

“Barrow, I have seen what you can do. And while it turned everything I knew about the world upside down… you cannot expect me to also factor some form of time travel into this whole mess.” She shakes her head, and dismisses me with a wave. Still laughing to herself she sinks down into the booth, and takes to fiddling with Cal’s bracelets. There is a hint of uncertainty behind her eyes though, and I know exactly who and what she is thinking about.

“There are hundreds—thousands like me Farley. You haven’t met all of them yet, but there are abilities far stranger than mine. My brother’s for instance.”

Her expression pulls tight for a heartbeat before she smoothers the emotion. I pull on that line though, and step forward, pointedly ignoring Kilorn who is still gapping like a fish and trying to come to the same conclusion as Farley. “I know he’s alive, and that he’s here with you. He jumps, appearing in different places in seconds. I make lightning. There will be a New Town girl who becomes our friend that can kill you with a thought and silence Silvers in the same way. There are three other Reds just like me in Montfort. There is a girl who can bathe everyone in a bubble of silence so no one outside of it can hear you. Another woman can remember every single thing she reads or that is said to her. Another older woman can change her face to be whoever you need her to be.” My heart squeezes at the memory of all the Ardents I rescued and then sent to their deaths. I promised them safety, security, and then pulled all of that away from them. All because one man told me I had to do it. “Is it so hard to believe then that there is someone years from now who can send people back in time?”

Those diamond eyes snap to me and look me over before Farley’s lips twist into a half sneer. “Your brother is dead Barrow, he was executed for—”

“Farley, please.” I whisper, coming to stand over her. Even sitting she is almost as tall as me, but I channel every ounce of military prowess she tried to teach me as I glare down at her. “If I walk out of this room, I will find him in less than an hour, and you will feel incredibly stupid when I do.”

Her lips pale as she pushes them together, tighter than ever before. Her eyes dance to Cal beyond me again, who has thankfully kept his mouth shut this whole time and has decided to simply sit on the edge of a table to watch us.

“He came with me.” I soften my tone and slowly sink down into the seat opposite her. Her eyes follow me like a rabbit would a wolf. Her fingers are cold when I take them, even with how warm it is in the room. She doesn’t pull away though, and I wonder if somewhere, her future self recognizes my touch. “I need you to trust us. I know how hard that is with everything that has happened, but Farley you have to.”

“Do we win?” She asks the question so quietly, I almost miss it while I’m speaking. Every muscle in body tenses against the truth that wants to escape though. I glance at Cal, wondering if he heard the same thing as me. He simply looks down at his boots, unable to offer any aid.

Swallowing past the rock in my throat, I look down at the table top. It’s dusty and cracked in some places. But it has no answers either. We have already done so much to destroy the path we were supposed to be on, what was one more change? “Yes,” I whisper and her eyes flash bright and wide.

“But we pay may terrible prices for it.” The last part almost doesn’t make it out. Shade’s death tries to claw that statement to ribbons, Archeon burning, and all the people we lost in the Harbor Bay siege and the final Archeon siege weigh heavy against my chest. The silence stretches to the breaking point around us as those memories consume me. I wish I could take back those words, swallow them and refrain from admitting to what I’m sure she suspects. She must read the memories as they pass across my face because her expression softens a hint.

“Its war Barrow,” the Farley I know so well comes to the surface when she switches her grip to grab my hands instead. “I never expected to win for free.”

She narrows her eyes at Cal then, who simply gives her a tight nod she doesn’t return. “I still don’t like you.” She announces a second later. “And I hope I never do.”

“You give me a hard time for years, I promise you that much.” He teases, some of the light returning to his eyes. I crack a weak smile at their banter, even though I ache at the reminder of the future relationship they share. Farley never does let him off the hook, and every chance she has to remind him of his past, she does. I don’t blame her though, she never lets herself get too congenial with anyone.

“We trust him… just like that?” Kilorn tries to burn a hole between Cal’s eyes with his glare. He doesn’t succeed, especially when Cal smirks at him and leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He’s the picture of ease, and I know that drives Kilorn insane.

“Relax Kilorn,” I tease, and then beckon Cal over to me. “He knows that if he steps out of line I won’t hesitate to put him back in his place.”

Farley glances between the two of us before saying, “So the second prince wasn’t lying. You two are…”

“In this together.” Cal finishes for her. His eyes narrow at what Maven might have inferred even as he looks down at me for confirmation.

“We don’t have time to get into details,” I add, making room for him in the booth as I lean forward to start drawing a map of Archeon in the dust on the table. “Maven and his mother know what we know. Which means they have been pulling the strings and trying to sabotage any advantage we have. They will not hesitate to wipe the Scarlet Guard off the map this time around.”

“I don’t understand.” Kilorn grumbles and crosses his arms tightly across his chest. “I thought we trusted that prince?”

“Maven is the one we have to worry about.” I finish drawing the bridge and narrow my eyes at the crude drawing. “He was always going to betray us.”

“How?” Farley sneers, obviously not happy with me inferring that she made a mistake in judgement. Maven was her recruit after all. “He’s given us names, information.”

“All fed to him by his mother, who is counting on us tomorrow night staging a coup and failing so that she can murder the king and remove you and any true Scarlet Guard opposition.” I murmur and watch as Farley’s fury melts into horrible understanding. My stomach drops but Cal speaks before I can.

“He’s already spoken with you and made the plan.” His voice is cold, even while the space around us starts to burn with the heat he releases. My own lightning wants to be unleashed as well. It takes more effort than I like to reign it in. I was wrong. He did speak with her, about more than just me and Cal. 

“He said Barrow would try to come to me and change my mind, that I had to know she was in collusion with you and planned to stand by your side when the time came. That she would ultimately betray me.” Farley breathes, her eyes widening. “He said that the coup was the only way we would win, remove you two in one swoop.”

“He and Elara were counting you believing him wholly and me not bringing Cal.” I growl, and swipe my hand through the map on the table to erase it. The plan is useless at this point. Maven already took it and molded it to his needs. I should have never spoken to him on the barge, maybe I should have just continued to pretend I was some stupid girl that didn’t know how to play the game. I may have destroyed any hope we had of beating him and Elara now.

“They also aren’t counting on us having any other plan. Or my support.” Cal murmurs before drawing his own map in the dirt. The angle is far different from what I drew. “They don’t know that I know the future or that I am with you all. They think Mare is the only one.” His finger moves through the dust and Kilorn finally edges closer to see what he draws.

“So we play into their hands.” He murmurs as he glances at me for my support.

“What?” I wheeze as I watch him draw the same offensive we instigated last time. “Cal, if we do that—”

“Then it all goes the way it did before, with the added benefit that when you get captured this time, we can stop Elara. We know what’s coming and we can plan for it.” Cal finishes drawing his map before drawing a second more detailed map of the Whitefire next to it. “This time, we won’t be alone in that room.”

I struggle to keep up with his thought process, trying to determine exactly how he plans to make this work. The only way Farley and the other Scarlet Guard members will make it into that room is in shackles like me. Elara will slaughter us all like pigs then. 

“The tunnels run under Whitefire right?” He asks Farley who hesitates for a second before nodding tersely. He etches a few makeshifts ones into the picture and then sits back to say, “when I take Mare captive for treason, you and a small unit will move through the tunnels and get to the throne room. From there, you wait for a signal Mare and I will give. When that happens, we take Elara and Maven.”

“Bold.” Farley murmurs as she glances over the plan. “And suicidal. We’ll never make it in.”

“You will if I don’t station anyone at a specific entrance. Name it, and I will keep the regiments away from it.” Cal waves his hand over the picture and glances forlornly in my direction. “If it fails, we still go to the Bowl of Bones, but this time we’ll know what to expect.”

My heart pounds in my chest as the memory of the too thin sand shifting beneath my feet almost overtakes me. Even though it is years behind me and days ahead of me, the heat of Cal’s fire trying to catch on the sand still burns my cheeks and my stomach twists at the echoing sound of the bar punching through Arven’s chest.

“In the meantime, you need to evacuate Tuck.” I whisper forcing the bile down as I look up at Farley. She blanches at the command, but I narrow my eyes to silence her. “Elara has seen in my mind. She knows about Tuck, she knows about a number of other Scarlet Guard strongholds like Narcery too. Did you not find it strange that Maven was not afraid to travel to a supposed heavily radiated place?”

She opens her mouth to argue with me, only to shut it like a trap and narrow her eyes. The thought never occurred to her, and I understand why. He probably got on the Undertrain and immediately started spilling honey and poison in her ear until she couldn’t even hear herself think. I can’t blame her for anything, he did the same to me, and I lapped at it like a starving child.

“Where will we go?” Kilorn whispers anxiously, his eyes darting to the street outside, as if a regiment might come marching down it right now. I don’t blame him. My friend is brave, always has been and always will be, but a Silver regiment is no laughing matter to him yet.

Cal stiffens next to me and says, “Irabella is the only safe haven. Mare was never there, but I was.”

“Why—”

“I doesn’t matter.” I interrupt Kilorn, and lean forward to speak again. “You just have to trust us. Tell the Colonel you have reason to believe Tuck and a number of other bases have been compromised. That an informate you have high up in the palace you trust explicitly told you that. The Notch is not safe either.”

Farley’s eyes widen, and it is then I realize that the mention of that safe haven is what finally secures her trust. The Notch was her hiding hole. Not one her father came up with. Command might not have even known about it. If what Cal and I said was true, and we were her allies in the future, she may have taken us there at some point. I wish I would have been smart enough to start with the mention of it. We could have saved time.

“And you need to start finding the others like me.” I whisper, as I pull the book out of my jacket pocket and set it on the table. The cover gleams against the dusty surface of the table, and I almost can’t pull my fingers off of it. The fates of so many reside inside of it. Cameron’s furious expression flashes through my mind as I ordered her taken onto the Blackrun. I will not force her into anything this time though. I only hope I don’t have to rescue her from a prison though.

I slide the book to Farley and trail my fingers off the cover as I whisper, “Maven and Elara might already be on the hunt for the Ardents in here, but I circled the names of the people that we rescued together. He will target them first if he is going after them, so you have to beat him to it.”

She picks up the book gingerly before looking between us and saying, “you mentioned the Bowl of Bones.”

Cal smiles wearily but leans back with the poise of a general to say, “we won’t have to worry about it. We’re going to avoid that point all together.”

Farley’s fears are not soothed by Cal’s confidence, and I can almost see the spikes she wants to drive through his eyes. At least she nods though, agreeing with him for the time being. I can’t even begin to express the relief that courses through me as she puts the book in her own pocket and nods once more.

“Then we will go with your signal.”

[elliemarchetti]

How do you think the RQ characters will be in the Hunger Games?

You know what, I have nothing better to do, so I'm about to propose my very own version of a Hunger Games AU, where the Queenstrial is a mix between the Hunger Games and the Selection from the homonymous series (if you’ve never read it, do it, you won’ t regret it)

To Choose a Queen

Words: 1082

The village was unbearably crowded, and with the late summer heat it was the last thing one wanted, but it was an important event, which hadn’t occurred in more than twenty years, and participation was mandatory, so people had flocked to the square unwillingly, generating a smell of sweat so strong that Mare had to restrain herself from throwing up. In no time the space became nearly claustrophobic, after all, although the place was small, quite a few people lived in the Stilts, and Mare squeezed Gisa’s hand harder and pressed herself against Kilorn, her mother right behind them.

"I still remember when Queen Coriane won,” she murmured in her oldest daughter ear. The thing that Coriane Jacos had won was the throne and it happened through the Queenstrial, the event that for the following weeks would be broadcast live twenty-four hours a day for those who could afford a private television or in short evening summaries that everyone would be forced to watch, and it was very simple: when a prince came of age, every High House that had a female daughter between the age of twelve and eighteen, and everyone made sure to have one when such a possibility was at stake, had to “provide” her to the royal family, who would then send them in a large open-air arena, which could contain everything from a torrid desert to a frozen wasteland, to fight to the death. The last one still standing would win the throne. It was barbaric and disgusting, but Mare wouldn't have complained if the Silvers of the worst kind decided to sacrifice a few of theirs for the entertainment of the masses nor did it surprise her that those heartless beings decided to sacrifice their daughters for a chance to end up in the royal family. The woman her mother was talking about, from what little Mare had been able to understand from history books and gossips, hadn’t made a great impression at first and it didn't even seem that she had been prepared to participate, for how weak and frightened she looked, but when there was just a handful of opponents left she had used her singer ability on a girl, she didn’t remembered which House she was from, who in her place had exterminated the remaining participants, starting from what had been considered the favorite from the beginning, Elara Merandus, and then slaughtered herself. She had been ingenious and she had come out of that perverse game with her hands practically clean, which had earned her some sort of respect from the Reds as well, who she didn't seem to disdain like the rest of her race, but they were all futile thoughts, which left Mare's mind once the national coat of arms, accompanied by the hymn, appeared on the screen. First a general gave a quick update on the war with the Lakelands and a couple of other, even shorter announces were made by some ministers and then, finally, the king spoke: “Today we honor tradition, but before I announce the Queenstrial participants my royal wife would like to say a few words to them.”

The woman stood up, showing a beautiful yellow dress, perfectly matched with the jewels and the golden crown. She had a serene smile on her lips, as if she had forgotten the horrors she had been forced to witness, and joined her husband: “Enjoy your last night as normal girls, because tomorrow your life will change forever.”

Mare doubted that the High Houses’ daughters had ever had a normal life, but she didn't said it aloud, too busy looking at the first face that appeared on the screen. They must’ve taken the photos from the Blood Register. They updated them annually, and if even the Reds had to try to look their best during those shots, she couldn't even imagine what the Silvers were doing to look like gods.

“Clove Arven, silencer,” announced the king, and despite the forced applause, her name didn’t ring any bell in her, just like many others later. Clarissa Eagrie looked particularly pretty with her porcelain-skin but Kilorn said that the hottest so far was Camille Gliacon, even if he wasn't convinced she would go very far in the competition. After her, Elayna Greco, a strongarm, was introduced and after her Elane Haven, a shadow that was Gisa’s Silver copy, just with lighter complexion. By now Mare had grown accustomed to the king's almost monotonous voice, and after Sonya Iral she had missed at least a couple of names, if not more, when a banshee was presented. A rapid look and Mare knew she was a walking corpse: she wouldn’t have survived the Blood Bath, the first race to the Cornucopia, the giant golden horn-shaped cone filled with supplies and weapons around which the Queenstrial started, even if she had been allied with more than half of the participants. After her the name of Samantha Nolle, who looked like a real lady, was made, but Tiny Nornus looked like the biggest deal so far. When Tirana Osanos appeared on the screen, the prince smiled. Maybe he already knew her, maybe he wanted her to win. It was sad that he couldn’t choose his wife, but she understood the logic behind the madness.

“Kriss Provos, talkie,” said the king, and a girl that looked vaguely like a cat appeared on the screen. They were without a doubt all beautiful and dangerous girls, although Rohr Rhambos seemed more like a child, but Mare was getting tired of standing and looking at people who had no meaning for her. For a moment she thought that maybe she should’ve bet: she didn't approve when Kilorn did it during the Feasts and Evangeline Samos seemed pretty lethal but she immediately got the idea out of her head at the thought that she might’ve lose.

“Wren Skonos, skin healer.”

A very dark-skinned girl appeared on the screen. Her eyes were dark gray, bright and expressive, and she seemed kind but strong willed. Even if she would never admit it, Mare was a little sorry she was going to die. She was followed by Ashley Thany, a stoneskin, and Mareena Titanos, an oblivion. When the photo of the latter appeared on the screen, the blood froze in her veins. The face before her, the eyes that were watching her, were hers, and in a matter of seconds, everyone in the Stilts turned toward a nobody that had suddenly become somebody else. 

[quikoitalyblog]

Quiko Italy – One Stop Solution for Gates & Doors Automation

We, at Quiko, manufacture and commercialize automation systems for gates and doors along with other wide range of products including automation for civil and industrial gates, barrier gate, automatic barriers, parking lots management systems, automatic rising bollards, access control systems, automatic doors, door entry systems, hands-free opening devices, electronic control boards for automatic gates, control and safety devices, CCTV products and many more. The gates or door automation system, apart from adding curb appeal, help in making any property more secure. Nowadays, many industries have shifted towards the industrial gates automation, in order to add an extra layer of security to protect their machinery and large inventories.

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• Swing Gate Openers: The swing gate openers are used for both residential and industrial purposes. The products in this segment include linear swing gate operator, articulated swing gate operator, and underground system. These linear arms are available in both the electro-mechanic & hydraulic versions. The swing gate opener category includes diverse products like EON, NEO, ROTELLO, HYDRO, SPIDER, SCARABEO and SUB series. EON, a linear swing gate operator, is mostly preferred for residential applications and it can be installed in areas having very little space for installation. The ROTELLO, on the other hand, is a swing gate actuator and can be installed at domestic as well as industrial locations. It is an electromechanical actuator and can be installed without breaking any sweat, on the swing gates that are up to 4.5m long. 

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The company also supplies sliding gate kits in order to make the entire process trouble-free. A frontal manual release lever helps in manual handling the gate in any unforeseen circumstances. MOOVY series gear motors for slide gates are also a part of sliding gate kit and comprises of a powerful motor for handling sliding gates of large size. To ensure long & proper operation of the sliding gate motor, the reducer is lubricated with permanent grease. Quiko also supplies TITANO, a heavy duty sliding gate motor, that is made of highly resistant components designed specifically for the automation of heavy sliding gates.

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Garage door overhead openers of BOXTER series are electromechanical gear motors, employed to automate the projecting and non-projecting up-and-over doors. An absolute silent movement during the operation and resistant construction materials make them must-have equipment for modernizing the garages.

The Bottom-Line: Quiko is known for producing high-grade automation systems for doors & gates required for a variety of applications. The automation mechanism, apart from adding an aesthetic advantage, adds an extra layer of security and thus it has become important equipment for various industries as well as residences. Quiko also encourages potential business offices to become its distributor or importer of these high-quality products suitable for worldwide applications.

[olivereliott]

Custom Bikes Of The Week: 19 November, 2017

Brough Superior launches the £58,000 Pendine Sand Racer, Valentino Rossi commissions a Yamaha XJR1300 tracker, and Officine GP Design show Suzuki how to design a cafe racer. It’s all about European style this week.

Suzuki GSX-S750 by Officine GP Design Despite best intentions, the 2017 GSX-S750 hasn’t set the world afire. Enthusiasts wanted a stripped down Gixxer, but what we got instead was a watered-down upright that became heavier when naked. So Luca Pozzato of Turin-based Officine GP Design recently took a crack at one—and it has us skimming through eBay for a donor of our own.

Looking to pay tribute to the long running heritage of the Suzuki GSX series, Luca focused on re-interpreting memorable design cues. The hand formed aluminum tail screams 80s chic, but the perch and endurance-style tank are more akin to a SRAD (Suzuki Ram Air Direct) Gixxer from Nirvana’s heyday. And the bikini fairing is a clear nod to the era that ushered in the home-brew streetfighter. It’s a combination that shouldn’t work—but to see it is something else.

From a performance standpoint, Luca left the modern 750cc mill alone. But he’s made a few additions through subtraction, by fitting a one-off titanium exhaust and 17-inch OZ Gass Titano wheels—the lightest hoops OZ sells for the street. [More]

Brough Superior Pendine Sand Racer Pendine Sands is a seven-mile stretch of beach lining the south coast of Wales. The historians among us will know that it was once the home of the Welsh TT, and that it still sees action as a speedway for record seekers. It was also a favorite of George Brough, and from 1928 onwards, he named all his racing bikes ‘Pendine.’

The reborn Brough Superior marque has now given the Pendine name to its newest creation, the Pendine Sand Racer. Powered by a 100 hp, 88-degree V-Twin, the Sand Racer is a mash-up of tracker and scrambler design cues that is absolutely breathtaking. The tank and tail flow seamlessly to create incredible visual balance, and showcase all the mechanicals we love on classic bikes—with a meticulous degree of finishing.

The chassis is titanium, as are various connecting components for the suspension. The brakes are handled by Beringer and the swingarm is a completely CNC’d unit deserving its own spot in a museum. Pricing starts at £57,999 (around US$77,000), chaps. [More]

Suzuki GS1150 by KickMoto The Halifax, Nova Scotia shop is no stranger to these pages. Of their five previous projects, three have been featured on EXIF. And now we can include their sixth build, a Suzuki GS1150-based cafe that shows how these Canucks really sweat the details.

Partners Jeff and Jordan looked to the aviation industry for inspiration during this build. That meant extensive use of aluminum, typically graded for the friendly skies. The headlight, which was spec’d to resemble a WWII fighter, is comprised of six individually CNC’d units, and is a marvel to behold. The CNC machine was kept running to tackle a bespoke top clamp too, which allowed the fitment of a Kawasaki ZX14 front end—and features a recess to flush mount the new Motogadget speedo.

The hand-formed custom tail is perched on a new subframe that sits high to accommodate its tall rider. An LED taillight is flawlessly sandwiched between the two halves and just below, a custom mounted Ducati swingarm is framed perfectly by the rear hugger and bespoke muffler. [More]

Yamaha XJ1300 by Rodolpho Frascoli If you’ve seen the video, then you know that Valentino Rossi doesn’t lose any of his superhuman riding abilities when asphalt turns to dirt. And now he has a new toy to fling around his Ranch.

Built from the most unlikely of donors, this flat tracker named Mya started out as a beefy Yamaha XJ1300. Rodolpho Frascoli was commissioned by Rossi’s VR46 team to perform the transformation and, we dare say, he’s done a cracker job.

The bodywork is flowing, minimal and capped by a full-length seat to give Rossi plenty of room to move around. The ergonomic hard parts, including the bars and pegs, have been swapped to deliver better control and there’s Öhlins suspension fore and aft.

Despite the dark photos, you’ll also spot a set of R1 headlights residing on either side of the forks, below the turn signals, and a small, 2-piston Brembo mounted up front in case The Doctor needs to leave the Ranch on a house call. [More]

Harley-Davidson Sportster by Mule Motorcycles When we dropped the news of Indian’s Scout FTR1200 Custom, I swear you could hear a sigh of relief from the motorcycling world: It’s the exact bike we’ve all been gagging for. And now, the biggest name in flat tracker design, Mule Motorcycles, has delivered the one that Harley should build: The Midnight Express.

But this isn’t a Richard Pollock creation—former colleague and machinist Mel Cary handled the bulk of this Sportster build. Of course, there were a few winks, nods and nudges from Richard along the way. A low-mileage Sportster was sourced and Mel went to work on the stance. A set of widened 19-inch Morris HD wheels was powder coated before bolting up.

The front suspension went from saggy to stout with the addition of Ducati 996 forks, which are held in place by a set of A&A dirt bike clamps. In the rear, where you may expect Öhlins, there’s a pair of Penske remote reservoir shocks from a decade-old Formula 1 car.

The engine was left virtually untouched, but a new Mikuni HSR42 carb was bolted up, the exhaust was swapped for a custom reverse-cone set-up, and there too many other details to report here. Great job, Mel! [More]

[elliemarchetti]

The Scam (part 4)

@lilyharvord I haven’t forgotten that I promised you not to end this with the third chapter, so here is the fourth! Hope you like it!

Previous chapters

Words: 1536

When the guests finished eating, they raised their glasses for a last toast to the now larger royal family, but the truth was that afterwards they would continue to revel in a riot of colors anyway, trying to win the sympathies of the sovereigns. Soon she would have to learn to recognize them all, to not only match colors to families and families to people, but also remember what the single person liked or not, with whom they were married, what they possessed, if and how they were useful and many other things that already gave her a headache, but it was worth it.

"Being a queen is a difficult task, but I'm sure you will be able to complete it in the best way, when your time will come,” Elara whispered in her ear, almost making her jump.

“You will help me, won’t you?” she asked, hoping those words were the right ones to have her on her side. She didn’t want the whisper to be her enemy, she could’ve destroyed her without the slightest effort and invent a complicated plot to justify her premature departure, and she wanted her as far away from her mind as possible but only a queen could prepare her to fit in that role, tell her what she should’ve do and how she should’ve behaved to be up to the role and not be found out for the scam she was.

"Obviously," she replied, smoothly. "But I am sure that our dear Tiberias will do everything in his power to fill you in on a queen’s duties.”

"Definitely," she agreed, stamping a fake smile on her face. She never called him Cal, like his father did, and after all those years it was at least a strange attitude. After all, she'd seen him grow up, even though he wasn't her son. It was Cal himself who interrupted that disturbing exchange to present her personally to some nobles, including Volo Samos, the head of House Samos. Although the black silk edged robes were rather sober and he didn’t had large jewels in sight or noteworthy medals, he exuded an indisputable aura of power. He held a glass of wine in his large pale hands, just like the rest of his family, and with a sharp look he proposed a toast to his daughter, the new princess. Mare had understood that Evangeline had been the favorite for the role of new queen, before her arrival, and the fact that they had accepted the downgrading so quietly made her suspicious to say the least, but she did not express it aloud not even when they left, mentally pinning it as one of the many other things she should’ve asked Cal once they were alone, which happened when, at the end of the event, he escorted her to her new room, that the servants must’ve prepared in a hurry while she was presented at court with a name not her and a title stolen from a girl who died at the front when she wasn’t even able to walk or speak. With his short legs Mare found it hard to keep up with Cal but he didn't seem to notice, absorbed as he was in his thoughts.

"What troubles you? I know it all sounds very rushed, and I too was shocked by their decision, but we knew it would happen sooner or later. " she said, almost in a whisper, taking his arm just before a couple of guards rounded the corner.

"That's not the problem," he replied, once they were far enough away that they were no longer within earshot, surprising her. "Although it was unexpected, the thing that really worries me is House Samos’ behavior. I know Ptolemus well and I thought that at least he would’ve tried to punch me for putting his sister aside, not to mention his father: his power doesn’t derive only from a title, he’s also the owner and manager of Norta’s iron mines. Every weapon used in war is produced with the metal extracted from his lands, if he decides to raise prices, or worse, openly challenge us..." the words died in his throat, the consequences too serious to be expressed aloud.

"It would be a stupid decision now that his daughter is engaged to Maven.” she replied, hoping to calm him, even if she had had the same doubt.

"But Maven is only the second son and they want the throne," he replied, a note of sincere concern in his voice.

"They will have to do much more than want it to take my position," she replied, resolutely, but she was already thinking about a couple of maneuvers that could’ve strengthened her position at court, which she began to implement as early as the next day, when she met her new teacher, the one who was supposed to help her not only with Norta's history but also to learn about and control her ability. Those people lived for big bouts of power, she hadn't forgotten the obligation to watch the fights in the arenas, and she had plenty of it, enough to feel confident when she was admitted to train with the other people her age. Around her the other boys warmed up, mostly doing stretching or running around the gym, but some did much more amazing things: Elane was getting in and out of her field of vision, distorting the light around her to the point of disappearing completely, while Oliver Laris levitated specks of dust forming a small whirlwind in his hands and Sonya was lazily fighting against Andros Eagrie, a short, muscular eighteen years old whose ability was to foresee the near future. She kept throwing languid looks in Cal’s direction but she should’ve settles for her companion’s attentions if she didn’t wanted for her parents to choose for her someone that probably wasn’t even interested in her as a person but only as an asset.

"In line," ordered a low, almost imperceptible voice. Her new instructor entered quietly, accompanied by a House Provos’ member. He was small, almost resigned, with a fair complexion full of wrinkles and white hair that matched his robes, which confirmed his belonging to House Arven, an important family, full of power, strength and everything the Silvers believed in. She knew of him before she was Mareena but she never understood how powerful he could be since she never had something he could deprive her of but now that she felt his ability wrapping her like a silent blanket, depriving her of her energy, she understood why everyone who wasn’t used to being normal was somehow afraid of him. Even his pupils carried out his orders without saying a word and Mare imitated them, happy that at last she was asked to do something that hardly could go wrong: she had spent her whole life running away from the Stilts guards with Kilorn, not to mention the races she used to do with her brothers when they were younger. For a moment, she felt free again, but the sensation came to an abrupt end when a section of the wall moved, throwing her to the ground.

"Welcome to training," Cal said, chuckling. Along the entire perimeter of the gym, various sections of the wall moved and formed barriers for the athletes, who the others seemed to know how to manage very well, as if they were used to it. Obviously it was Provos who controlled them and for a moment she even had the feeling that he was staring at her with a satisfied grin. Suppressing the temptation to scream at him, she got back on her feet, with the prince constantly beside her, in a protective and vaguely irritating attitude. But after all he would become king and what was his job in situations like that if not to protect the queen? She tried to outrun him increasing her pace, but he kept up, and at Arven's new order he was the only one who hadn't shed a drop of sweat; even Evangeline seemed exhausted, although she did everything to hide it. She still wanted to prove that she was more suitable than her to be queen, but she didn't care: Mare was really proud of herself, despite the rough start. The instructor, however, seemed to have just started and ordered his assistant to bring the targets, which appeared from the floor. Without their ability those people would’ve been ruined.

"Lady Titanos," muttered Arven, drawing her attention. He gave her chills with his voice, that sounded like a ghost was trying to caress her back. "I've heard that you have an interesting ability."

Obviously he was talking about her white and purple destructing lightning, something she was able to create and not only control, as it happened with every other Silver. She was special and that man seemed to know. Too many were suspicious and soon she would’ve had to do something about it, not only for her own good but also for that of her family. Thanks to her they lived in the most comfortable way allowed to the Reds, but a misstep and the king himself would’ve taken everything away from them.