#trail running is significantly slower than road running and I did that run at what used to be

[rulesforthedance]

Ran 18 miles in Forest Park yesterday and it was by far the fastest I've ever done that distance on trail despite being deliberately Easy Pace (because I've gotten that much better at running recently! it's still blowing my mind) and including lots of walk breaks on the big climbs, but I fell fell dramatically around mile 16 because I wasn't picking my toes up high enough in a rooty downhill section. Landed in a full Superman on the trail, but at least managed to avoid bashing my chin on the ground this time. Was passing an old woman who was hiking and alarmed her. She was waving her hands near her face and going "oh! oh! oh!" as I took several long seconds of stumbling and yelling to actually complete my fall, lol. Today I keep finding new bruises.

[sarah-writes-stories]

Chapter 9: Forever

A Post-Canon Inuyasha Romance/Adventure Epic

Find it on: Fanfiction.net / AO3 / Wattpad

Words: 4,037

Prologue  •  Chapter 1  •  Chapter 2  •  Chapter 3  •  Chapter 4  •  Chapter 5  •  Chapter 6  •  Chapter 7  •  Chapter 8  •  Chapter 9  •  Chapter 10  •  Chapter 11  •  Chapter 12  •  Chapter 13

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He ran.

Faster than he ever had before, through gardens and over rooftops. He didn't bother using the road. Instead, making a straight line for Kaede's hut.

When he reached the door he didn't stop there either, barging in before skidding to a halt.

Kaede gasped at the sudden intrusion. She'd been waiting up for Kagome, sipping a cup of mild tea, but when she took in the sight of the young Miko unconscious and cradled in Inuyasha's arms, terror etched across his face, she immediately got to her feet.

"Inuyasha! What has happened?"

Inuyasha's eyes were wild. "I don't know! She was fine one minute and the next…" He trailed off, looking down at her still face, willing Kagome to show him some sign that she was going to be alright.

"Come, place her down over here." Kaede had already made up a futon for Kagome to sleep and was now thankful for her forethought.

Inuyasha placed Kagome down gently before moving back to give Kaede space to work. "Is she gonna be alright?" His voice was a panicked whisper.

"I cannot answer that until first ye tell me exactly what has happened."

"We left Miroku and Sango's and went by my hut so I could show it to her. We were… talking… and the next thing I knew she was surrounded by her own power, only it was like a blanket or a shell. I couldn't even get close enough to touch her. Burnt my hand when I tried. It sounded like it was hurting her. It felt like forever, but I think it was only a minute or so. She kept whimpering and groaning and when the power finally pulled back, she collapsed like this!"

Inuyasha could feel the fear rising within him all over again at the retelling. 'Oh, Kami,' he thought. 'Please don't take her away from me. Not when I just got her back.'

Kaede was worried as well, but her years of training kept her mind focused as she began running her hand above the child, using her spiritual senses to assess Kagome's aura for any signs of sickness, pain, or disease.

Before she could get halfway through the examination, Kagome began to stir. "Wha–?" She said groggily. "What happened?"

Kagome put one hand up to still the pounding in her head, using the other elbow to raise herself up slightly and look around.

"Kagome, child, be still. Inuyasha brought ye here. Ye were unconscious."

And suddenly Kagome remembered. "I– I passed out from the pain, I think."

"Ye were in pain, child? Can ye point out where the pain was?"

"It was everywhere. It felt like every part of my body, inside and outside was on fire." Kagome closed her eyes against the memory, the pounding in her head continued. "Could I maybe get a drink of water?"

"Here, let me." Inuyasha jumped up immediately, happy to be able to help even in this small way. He wasn't used to feeling so helpless.

He filled a cup from the water barrel by the door and brought it over to Kagome. Pressing it into her hand, he searched her face. "How are you feeling now?"

"I don't know. Fine, I guess, except for a pounding headache."

Kaede asked, "Do ye mind if I continue my examination?"

"No, go ahead." After taking a long drink Kagome handed the cup back to Inuyasha who had yet to move away from her side. She lay back down on the futon.

Kaede moved to place her hands again over Kagome's body, guiding them around as she reached out with her senses. "So this pain ye spoke of. It was all over? And Inuyasha said it was caused by ye's own power?"

"Yes, that's right." Kagome nodded.

"That is what has me confused. One's own power should never be able to do its own bearer harm. Did ye feel like ye were being harmed?"

Kagome thought about it for a moment. "Not… really? I don't know. It was hot, burning hot, but there was also this surge of… something. It felt kind of like how I'd imagine a battery might feel if it was overcharged."

Looking at the confusion on Kaede's face over her modern comparison, she mumbled in embarrassment. "Not that you'd know what a battery is, Kaede-sama. Sorry."

"A battery is like a container, but for power. It holds power but can be drained and refilled." Inuyasha tried to explain it to Kaede in the same way Souta had once explained it to him.

"I see… And so that was what it felt like, child? As though ye were being overfilled with power?"

"Kinda, I guess." The idea made her uncomfortable. She wasn't used to having this kind of power, especially after being back in the modern world for so long where her spiritual powers always seemed to be only weakly present at best.

Kaede continued her questioning, "And immediately before it happened, Inuyasha said the two of ye were simply speaking with one another? What was it ye were discussing?"

Kagome reached back in her mind, trying to remember what had happened in the moments before the pain began and had stolen all her thoughts away.

It was Inuyasha who replied when he saw that Kagome was struggling to remember. He blushed as he spoke, "I– I had asked Kagome to be my wife and she'd said yes and–"

"Inuyasha, Kagome, this is wonderful news!" Kagome blushed at Kaede's interruption of genuine happiness for the both of them.

"Thanks, baba. Yeah, we were pretty happy. We were talking about spending the rest of our lives together and I– I remember that that was the last thing she said." Inuyasha was as red as his fire-rat confessing their romantic moment to Kaede, but he continued. "She said she wished for us to spend the rest of our lives together and the next thing I knew she was crying out in pain!"

"Oh… Kami!" Kagome's eyes went wide as a thought crossed her mind.

"What? What is it, child?" Kaede asked.

It was Kagome's turn to blush as she spoke, "When we were walking down by the river earlier Inuyasha and I were talking about youkai and hanyou lifespans. How they age and stuff." She closed her eyes before continuing, "I remember there was a moment when I was… really sad because I realized that Inuyasha was going to stay the same and I was going to… grow old and die."

She couldn't bear to look at Inuyasha as she whispered the words, "Your life was always going to be so much longer than mine."

"Kagome…" Inuyasha didn't know what else to say to that. It was the harshest reality of their relationship. He reached out to touch her hand where it lay beside her on the futon.

She opened her eyes to look at him, the pain she felt at that truth reflected in his own golden depths. "Inuyasha, you asked me to swear to you that I would never leave you alone. That I would stay with you for the rest of our lives… Only, the second I did…"

She trailed off as his eyes widened, understanding where her thoughts were headed.

"You don't– You don't think…?"

No one in the room spoke for a long moment until finally, Kaede broke the heavy silence in the room.

"Are ye saying, child, that ye think ye may have done something to yourself?"

"I think… I think maybe yeah, though what I'm not sure. It's not like I planned it or even thought about it consciously, but–" She sat up suddenly cutting off her own words.

"Kaede-sama, would you please pass me a knife?"

"Whaaaaaatttt? Wench, don't you dare!" Inuyasha knew Kagome well enough to know when she was about to do something crazy or stupid… or both.

"Inuyasha," her voice was firm as she stared him down. "Don't you trust me?"

"Of course I do, but–"

She didn't let him finish, "If you trust me then you'll let me do this."

"No, Kagome, you can't! I'm not just gonna sit here and let you hurt yourself, or worse!"

"Inuyasha, there isn't going to be an 'or worse,' please trust me. Kaede is here and can help me if I'm wrong about this."

"But–"

"Inuyasha…" She said his name in a tone that sent "sit" flashbacks dancing through his mind.

"You wouldn't." Inuyasha crossed his arms over his chest, sticking both hands in either sleeve of his fire-rat. He turned his face away from her, chin in the air, as though that would be the end of that discussion.

"Aisuru…" Kagome spoke softly this time, pleading with him… And Inuyasha felt all the fight melt out of him when he realized she'd called him her love.

He turned back to her and wrapped his arms around her. "What're ya gonna do?" He mumbled the question into her hair.

"I'm going to cut myself – I'm thinking maybe on my thigh – and we'll wait and see what happens. If it heals quickly then I'll assume that whatever happened has super-charged my cells, giving them the ability to regenerate quickly."

Inuyasha pulled back and cocked his head, not quite understanding what her strange future words meant.

She smiled at him. "What I mean is that if I do heal quickly then it probably means that my ageing will also be significantly slower as well… Just like yours. Cells are just a fancy name for all the teeny bits of your body that control growth, healing, ageing, and all that stuff."

Inuyasha seemed satisfied by her explanation, and he could hear the hope in her words as she spoke. He grumbled and sat back, NOT liking this plan one bit, but willing to try it. If this was true, if she could heal… The idea of having centuries with Kagome rather than just decades made his heart flutter in his chest a bit.

"Kagome, are ye sure about this, child? If it does not heal, ye will have injured yourself needlessly."

"Kaede-sama, just trust that I have a feeling about this, okay? But we should probably dip the knife in a pot of boiling water first. No sense taking any unnecessary chances."

"Boiling water?" Kaede was confused by this.

"Hai, because of the germs. They're something that won't be discovered for another two or three hundred years. Maybe I've mentioned them before? Anyway, they're tiny…bugs I guess you can call them… that live on things like metal knives. When they get into a wound, they are what cause infections. So if you kill the bugs by boiling them in hot water first…"

"Ah, yes, I see. Then they will not be able to cause an infection. How interesting your modern knowledge is, Kagome."

She gave Kaede a rueful smile, "Yep, I'm a regular walking, talking encyclopedia of knowledge… except for when it comes to what's going on with my own power it seems." Kagome shook her head in resignation then. "Let's just get this over with."

"I'd just boiled the pot for tea prior to Inuyasha's arrival with ye. it should not take more than a few moments to return to boiling."

Kaede was right. By the time she had located a sufficiently sharp knife for the task at hand, the water in the pot was boiling rapidly once more.

"Just stick it in all the way to the hilt and hold it there for a minute or so," Kagome instructed.

"As ye say, child." Once done, Kaede walked over to Kagome, handing her the hilt of the knife.

Seeing the knife in Kagome's hand threw Inuyasha into another fit of worry. "Kagome, are you sure about this? I can't stand the thought of you hurting yourself!"

Kagome reached forward and cupped his cheek in her palm. Instinctively, he leaned into her touch.

"I love you, Inuyasha, and I never want to leave you. If I have to grow old and die then I am resigned to that fate, as long as we can be together until that happens." He made a distinctly canine whimper at those words.

"But if by some Kami-blessed miracle I have escaped that fate and we can be together for as long as we both shall live, I want to– No, I need to know. I think that's worth a little bit of pain, don't you?"

He couldn't tell her otherwise. "Okay fine, but that doesn't mean I gotta like it!"

"Here," Kaede interrupted before Inuyasha could try to dissuade her again. "Take these rags and tuck them under your leg to catch the blood. And just in case, I would suggest ye make the cut up and down. From my experience, those sorts of wounds heal more cleanly than a cut that runs crossways."

"Thank you, Kaede-sama." Kagome gave her surrogate grandmother a reassuring smile.

"Alright, alright. Let's get this over with already." Inuyasha didn't think he'd be able to take much more of this.

Kagome took the knife to the outside edge of the midway point of her thigh. She pressed the tip to her soft flesh, felt the prick as it pierced her skin… and stopped.

"I– I don't know if I can actually do this," she faltered, looking at Inuyasha.

"Here." He whispered softly.

"Are you sure?"

"No, but I'll do it."

She let him take the hilt of the knife. The tip never leaving the spot on her thigh where she had already pierced the skin.

She closed her eyes. "Here goes nothi– Ahhhhh!"

Kagome screamed, followed quickly by a loud, hissed intake of breath as the blade sliced a mid-depth gash straight up the side of her leg.

Kagome panted against the pain that shot up and down her leg from the wound. Black spots swam in front of her eyes for a moment and she wondered if she might pass out all over again.

"Inuyasha!" She called out for him instinctively, grabbing for his hand and squeezing it against the pain.

"I'm here, Kagome, just breathe." He gave her hand a gentle squeeze of reassurance.

Kaede shook her head at the obvious pain the girl was in. "And now we wait," she said finally.

Kagome couldn't yet bring herself to look down at the wound. "How long would it normally take you to heal from something like this?" She turned her eyes towards Inuyasha.

He couldn't seem to take her eyes off the bloody gash. He watched as Kagome's blood slid down the outside of her leg onto the rags that had been set there to collect the blood.

He hated the smell of her blood.

"Keh, it would probably close up in an hour or so. Then it'd be a scar after a couple hours and probably be gone completely by morning. It's only when I get impaled on stuff that it tends to take longer to heal." He smirked at her then. "But don't you go trying anything like that!"

Kagome chuckled, glad to ease some of the tension in the air.

"Well, if we shall be here for a while, I will make us some tea." Kaede got up from where she was sitting near Kagome and went back to the kitchen area. She returned several minutes later with a tray with tea for all three of them.

They sat again in silence for a long while before Kagome couldn't take the waiting any longer. If she didn't do something to keep her mind off the waiting she thought she might lose her mind. She mentally scrambled around for something to distract her until a thought crossed her mind, something she had been wanting to ask Kaede about.

"Kaede-sama, how did you convince Sesshōmaru to leave Rin here?"

Kaede looked up at Kagome in surprise. After such a long period of silence, she had not been expecting such a pointed question. She took a moment to reply.

"Ah, yes. Well, it was after the final battle with Naraku. Ye had been pulled into the Meidō and Inuyasha had followed ye in. The Bone-eater's Well had disappeared and the village was smouldering." She shook her head at the memory.

"The poor child was dirty and hungry and tired. I told him that he would be welcome to return to the village with me and allow me to see to her, in case she had any injuries. He did not say much but seemed to consent to my request, though Rin herself seemed… disinclined… to come into the village. Sesshōmaru told her it was what he wished and, as ye all know Rin, she obeyed her lord." Kaede shook her head at that and smiled a small smile.

"I fed the child, helped her bathe, and urged her to rest. She'd inhaled a great deal of miasma and was weak. It was after she'd fallen asleep that I found Sesshōmaru sitting just outside my hut, though I know not where he'd sent the kappa and the dragon off to." She sighed, shifting herself into a more comfortable position.

"I could tell that he did not wish for my company but I'd often wondered, ever since ye both had told me about the small girl following the Inu lord, why it was that he allowed such a thing. I asked him as much. His reply was that Rin could do as she chose. He would not say more than that. I asked him then why she had been reluctant to return to the village, and all he would say was that Rin did not like humans, which was confounding to me, as I did not know of her history at the time."

"Her history?" Kagome interrupted.

"Aye, her family was murdered in a bandit raid on her home village when she was a small child."

Kagome gasped. "Oh, poor Rin!"

"Aye, it was then that the idea came to my mind. I asked him if he did not think it would best if she stayed here, in a village with humans. If she was so alienated from her own kind and knew not what it was like to live in a village that cared for her – where she was safe – was it not in her best interest to learn such a thing, especially amongst other women who would be able to guide her in the inevitable changes that all females face as they grow."

Kaede smiled a small smile remembering Sesshōmaru's face when she had said those words. It was the closest she had ever come to seeing a reaction on the daiyoukai's stoic countenance. He'd almost looked uneasy at the thought.

"I could tell that the idea of leaving her did not sit well with him, so I suggest that she might stay here just until she was old enough to truly choose the life she wanted, and if that choice was to return to him, well…" She let her words trail off. "That seemed to appease him some and he told me he would consider my words."

She gave a small shrug before continuing. "The next morning Sesshōmaru told Rin that she was to stay here in the village with me, that there were things she still needed to learn from humans, and that for her own protection she would be safer here… for now. The poor child was distraught. She looked as though she would bolt after him the second he turned away, but he knelt down to her then and spoke to her softly. He told her that this arrangement was not forever and that she need not fear as much. That he would visit her often and if she was troubled, or anxious, or sad, or any other time… that she could call for him and he would come to her, even if they were far apart… That it was fine for things to be this way for now, as long as she retained her trust in him.*"

"He did NOT say that?!" Inuyasha was incredulous. Clearly, Kaede had never told him this part before.

"He did, indeed," Kaede confirmed.

"That's… wow, he really cares for her." Kagome was just as shocked as Inuyasha.

"Aye, it would appear so." Kaede was silent for a moment before finishing her tale. "I could sense that he stayed nearby for a few days. I expect he was wary of her actually calling out for him, or perhaps he wanted to make sure that she was indeed safe and settling in. Finally, after Inuyasha had reappeared with the Bone-eater's Well, Sesshōmaru left the area. I can only assume it was because he trusted Inuyasha to protect her, should the need arise."

A scowled "Keh" was Inuyasha's only response to that.

"Since that day, he has come and gone from the village as he pleases. He will usually visit Rin once a season – as well as on her birthday – for a few days at a time. Sometimes he will take her for a short trip, but he brings her gifts each time, regardless."

"When is Rin's birthday?" Kagome asked.

"At the end of the autumn, a few weeks prior to the solstice."

"Ah," she murmured in response. Then another thought crossed her mind. "Actually, my nineteenth birthday is next week! It's… It's also the anniversary of the day I released Inuyasha from the Goshinboku." She blushed a little and gave him a happy smile, joyful tears coming to her eyes at the memory.

"Inuyasha, do you think, maybe, that it could also be our wedding day? It kind of seems fitting, doesn't it?"

He took one of her hands between both of his, cupping it and gently stroking the pad of his thumb over top. "Yeah… Yeah, it does."

Kaede smiled at the young couple. "I concur that it would be a most auspicious day, and it should be more than sufficient time to prepare the village for the festivities." If any two people deserved to be happy, Kaede thought it was these two.

"Thank you, Kaede-sama." Kagome smiled up at the old woman for another moment before her attention was drawn back to the pain in her leg… Or rather, to the lack of pain, to be precise.

She gave a small gasp, reaching her hand toward the wound, before pulling her fingers back. It was still obscured with blood. "Kaede, would you pass me a wet cloth? I think…."

Kagome didn't finish. Kaede was passing her the cloth then, and she was tenderly wiping the blood away from the edges of her wound.

When finally it was cleaned, all three of them peered down at her leg. It was still an angry shade of red, swollen and sore, but the wound itself was closed… surely an impossible feat if her body still behaved like that of a mortal woman.

"Well," she smiled weakly down at her leg and then up at Inuyasha, whose jaw had dropped open as she'd been wiping the blood away and had yet to move from that shocked position. "I guess that settles that. Inuyasha, it looks like you're gonna be stuck with me for a long, looooonnnnng time."

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*A/N: For those in the know, these words were inspired by Sesshōmaru's actually canon proposal to Rin! Google "Rin's tongue-twister proposal" to read the full exchange.

Also, I do not own Inuyasha, or any of the characters created by Rumiko Takahashi. (I only own this original story.)

[rantingswithrage]

Pretty Coffee Girl

Supernatural Fanfic - Fluffy

Sam x Reader Imagine

Summary: On a slow evening at your coffee shop, a handsome stranger comes in and it became a night you’ll never forget.

Reader’s POV

The sky was gray as you drove down the road to the café. The road was littered with bright October leaves and it painted a colorful picture along your drive that was a welcome contrast to the looming dull skies. 

You made your final turn into the parking lot and drove around to the back of the small building to where you and the other staff members park. You grabbed your apron from the passenger seat and swung open your door to step out. As soon as the door opened the crisp autumn air hit your face and a gust of wind blew your (y/h/c) in front of your face. You tucked your hair behind your ears as you slung your purse over your shoulder. 

You locked your car and made your way to the back entrance of the small stone building. As you opened the door, your senses were overwhelmed. The heat from inside was a welcome comfort against your now red nose and the smell of coffee brought the familiar comfort that it always brings. 

You made your way to the back corner of the kitchen to hang up your jacket and leave your purse. As you tied your apron around your waist, your co-worker, Charlie, made her way over to you.

“Slow day today” She said as she sighed and leaned against the counter. Her head was resting in her hand as her body slumped to exaggerate her boredom. 

She started working at the café two years after you did. You both worked your way up to management positions. She prefers to open the café early in the morning and you prefer to close. You’ve become good friends over the years that you’ve worked together. You’ve always thought about leaving and doing something else but you actually like this job and this town. People seem to keep to themselves for the most part and you prefer the slower pace in the small town over the big city bustle. You chuckled at Charlie as she mimicked falling asleep. 

“Come on, it couldn’t have been that boring. Did you at least get to argue with Jake?” you asked knowing that she will usually instigate some sort of debate with your delivery guy, Jake. They are friends but they love to bicker. Charlie’s eyes light up whenever she feels she has won.

“Kinda,” She shrugged as she stood up straight. “He was only here for a couple of minutes, I guess he was behind on his rounds or something. I was only able to make fun of his poor time management. He just waved off the comment and said he’d get me back for it later.” She sighed again as she pushed herself onto the counter so now she was sitting and swinging her legs.

“Uh-uh” you scolded. “That’s not sanitary.” She rolled her eyes and had an evil, sly smile as she hopped down. “Health code, smealth code.” She waved her hand at you to brush off your comment as she made her way to get a rag and sanitizer to clean off the counter.

You didn't say anything in response, you just shook your head at her antics as you made your way over to the time clock to punch in. Hopefully this evening would be a quiet and uneventful shift, you thought as you took your position behind the counter to prepare drinks for costumers.

Sam’s POV

We’d been driving for a few days now. The last case was on the opposite side of the country. Dean has listened to the same cassette tape for the entire ride. I’m slowly going insane from his off-key singing and his constant tapping on the steering wheel along to the beat of the music. I’m at the point now where I’ve done all of my usual tricks to distract myself from the constant noise but I’ve run out of options. We only have another thirty minutes left of the drive but I know it’s going to take all of my self-control to not flip out on Dean. I can usually take it for a few hours but it’s been two days and my patience is almost gone. 

I audibly sighed a sigh of relief when I saw a welcome sign for the town we were traveling to for the new case. I kept my eyes out the window trying to get a feel of the town. It looked small but it had the necessities and even a few extra little shops and stores. I frowned a little as I thought that there might be a werewolf attacking the people here. I was pulled from my thoughts as we approached the first motel we saw. There was a small hardware store across the street and right next to it was a bar. Right next to the motel was a little coffee shop. 

The roar of the impala was hushed as Dean turned the key out of the ignition. “We made finally made it. I’ll go get us a room.” He said as he hopped out and rushed into the office door of the motel. I closed my eyes welcoming the quiet of a Deanless car. It was over all to quick as Dean smacked the hood a few times to get my attention. I sat up quick from the sudden noise and made the decision then to make sure to get away from Dean for a couple of hours. Just for my own sanity. 

I didn’t say a word as I heard Dean chuckle at his own behavior, obviously pleased that he startled me when he smacked the car. I grabbed my bag from the trunk and followed Dean to our assigned room. It looked as unkempt as our usual motel rooms. I sighed because I knew I was secretly hoping it would be a little nicer for once. I tossed my bag on the first bed and dug through my bag looking for my set of clean clothes. 

“You can have first shower. After our last stop at the taco truck, your burrito messed with your stomach and your toxic gas has seeped into ever fiber of your clothing. You’re like Pig Pen from Charlie Brown with a cloud looming over you.” I just sighed. I was not the only one who was needing some space. I realized that Dean was just as annoyed with me as I was with him but he had been holding it in, until now. 

I gathered up a clean set of clothes and grabbed my toiletries bag. I made my way into the bathroom as Dean plopped himself down on his bed. “I’ll be quick” I mumbled out as I shut the door, not waiting for a reply from Dean.

I stood in the steady stream to let the heat of the water soothe my muscles. Being cramped in a car for that long is always rough on my long limbs. 

I finished quickly and towel dried my hair. As I stepped out of the bathroom, I could hear cheering coming from the TV. Dean was now sitting at the edge of his bed with his eyes glued to the TV. I followed his gaze and figured out immediately why he was so interested. He was watching some kind of bikini beauty competition. I just shook my head and went to collect my shoes.  I knew I was going to need some peace and quiet, even if only for a few minutes and there was no way Dean was going to turn off the TV now that he found this show. I think we could both use a break from each other. As I slid my shoes on, Dean turned his attention to me. The show was on a commercial break.

“Where are you going?” He questioned as he noticed my shoes. “I think I’m going to go check out that coffee shop I saw as we pulled in. I want to do some more research on this case.”

He scrunched up his nose. “Have fun, dork. I may go check out the bar. I can feel it in the air that there is some lucky lady in there waiting for me to come and blow her mind with all that is Dean Winchester.” His words made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. “You can be such a dirty old man, sometimes.” I said as I stood up to get my computer bag. He waved me off and turned his attention back to the TV, the commercial break was over.

“I’ll be back in a little while.” I said as I opened the door to leave. The bikini competition was about to announce the winner. I could hear the host say, “And the winner is...” I closed the door as he said the girl’s name. Immediately I heard Dean, yelling in protest. Apparently, the runner-up’s butt was “way more shapely” than the winner, according to Dean. His voice trailed off as I walked further down the sidewalk towards the café. 

The evening air was cooler than I was expecting. I pulled my jacket closer to myself and wrapped my arms around my chest.

As I opened the door to the café, a bell jingled above my head. It was significantly warmer inside compared to the autumn chill outside. It was a welcoming comfort. I looked around and was surprised to see that the place was empty. There was soft acoustic guitar music coming from the speakers behind the counter. There was a bookshelf that took up an entire wall. There was a small display table that had a few fall decorations and a couple lit candles.

The glow of the soft lights around the room, the warming smell of coffee and the gentle music was a complete contrast to what I had experienced over the drive with Dean. I was already more relaxed. There was no one sitting at the few tables and chairs that lined the other wall. There were also a couple of comfy arm chairs by the window but those were empty as well. There was no one here.

I turned back to look at the empty counter. I was about to call out a “Hello?” but before I could open my mouth I heard a muffled, “Be right with you.” coming from the back room behind the counter. Someone must have heard the door bell jingle when I opened it.

“Take your time” I reassured. I was in no hurry to rush back to Dean.

Not even a minute later, a girl came strolling out from the back room. My breath immediately was caught in my throat. I couldn’t believe me eyes. I had never seen someone who was this beautiful. She lifted the edges of her lips into a friendly smile. My stomach felt like it dropped three feet.

“Sorry for the delay. It’s been a pretty slow night, so I’ve been organizing some of our inventory. And, since I’m the clumsiest person on earth, I dropped one of our five pound jars of coffee beans. There were beans everywhere.” She chuckled as she finished. I then realized she was waiting for me to say something. And without thinking I said, “Well, I guess if you’re gonna spill the beans, you might as well spill them all.” I immediately regretted it. What a stupid joke.

She laughed, “Nice one.” A lock of her shiny (y/h/c) hair fell out of her ponytail and hung beside her face. She slowly brushed it behind her ear. “What can I get you?” She smiled again, waiting for my answer. I was so lost in my own self-deprecating thoughts and caught off guard by her beauty that I just blurted out, “Coffee.” 

Her smiled disappeared and she was suddenly very serious. “I’m sorry, we don’t sell coffee.” I didn’t know what to say. I frantically looked back and forth between her and the drink list on the wall above her head. In my flustered state, I didn’t actually read anything on the list. Maybe this was some alternative café. 

She started to laugh and my ears were drawn to the joyous sound. “Sorry, I just love to see people’s reactions when I say that.” My shoulders relaxed and I let a breathy awkward laugh.

She waved her hand as a gesture to look behind me. “Take a seat, if you can find any available and I’ll bring your coffee over to you.” I turned around to look at all the empty chairs. I laughed to myself as I realized her joke. I decided to sit in one of the comfy chairs by the window. They were placed next to each other, obviously positioned for people who wanted to sit together and talk. Since I was the only costumer, I didn't have to worry about that.

I sat down and opened my computer on my lap. My mind was flooded with thoughts of the girl I just met. When my computer was fully booted up, I shook away any thoughts I was having about her. I knew I was attracted to her, but I also knew that I didn’t have a chance with her.

I opened my web browser and started searching for any updates about the case. I was sucked into technology land so I didn’t hear anyone walk over to me. I flinched as I heard a cup hit the small side table next to me.

“Someone’s a little jumpy. Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I brought you your coffee and I also brought over one of my famous cinnamon buns, on the house. Enjoy!” I let out a quick thank you as she walked back behind the counter. I was mesmerized by the way she walked. The way her hips swayed with each step made my heart start to beat a little faster. 

I had no idea how long I was staring at her because when I realized I was still looking at her, she was already back behind the counter, wiping one of the coffee makers.

I quickly turned my gaze back to my computer screen hoping that she didn't see me staring. I took a sip of coffee and a bite of the cinnamon bun as I began my search.

I had tried everything, but I kept coming up with nothing. My coffee was gone, the bun was now in my belly and I didn’t have any more information about the case then I did when I came in to the café. There were no updates anywhere online. I decided that maybe it was time to go and ask the pretty coffee girl if there was anything she had heard around town about the killings.

I grabbed my empty coffee cup and plate and walked over to the counter. Her back was turned so she hadn’t seen me walk over. I gently cleared my throat hoping to get her attention.

Hear head snapped around quickly and her eyes were wide. Her face immediately softened and her lips broke out into that smile again. “Geez, you’re quiet. I didn’t hear you at all.”

“Sorry, just giving you a little payback.” I smiled, I had more confidence than I realized. She smiled wider, “Yeah, I deserved that.” She looked at my empty mug and plate. “Would you like a refill?” her eyes met mine. I had to clear my throat to try to keep the muscles in my throat from closing. She was breath-takingly beautiful.

“Yes” I said “This is the best tasting coffee I’ve ever had.” She smiled as she turned around to grab the coffee pot. She filled it quickly and put the pot back on the warmer. “That’s great to hear. We make our own house blend and we’ve worked hard to try to perfect it.” She bragged. “Definitely, perfect.” I said looking into her eyes as I quickly took a sip and placed my cup back down on the counter.

Reader’s POV

The minute your eyes met his, you couldn’t stop looking. His eyes sparkled. He smiled at you and the sparkle became brighter. You’ve never seen eyes that looked like that before. This guy is not from around here because you know you would remember if you had seen him before. You knew you looked like a hot mess from all the cleaning you were trying to get done. You thought you wouldn’t have any more costumers tonight, so you were fine with getting dirty. You now regretted that decision whole-heartedly. 

A man who looks better than any man you could have dreamt up in your head just strolls in the café one random evening and of course it’s the night that you decided to do that deep cleaning. 

It was fascinating to look at him. You’ve always been attracted to tall guys and this man is massive. He towered over you from the other side of the counter. If he didn’t look so amazingly handsome, you might have been intimidated by his large frame. His good looks took away any fear you may have had about your safety. No man that looks this good could be a bad man. 

His hair perfectly framed his face. His smile was kind, yet mysterious. You tried to joke with him a little to calm your own nerves. There was no way a man like him would ever give you a second thought. 

You finished pouring his coffee when you heard the oven ding. You forgot you had made some more cinnamon buns for the morning. You took the tray out and decided to give out a free sample to this unbelievably handsome stranger. You poured the glaze over the top of the bun and walked over to him with his coffee in your other hand. 

After you left his treats at his side, you decided to stay out front and try to look busy so that you could get a better look at him. You grabbed a rag and started to wipe the counter. You moved your eyes in his direction as your hand washed the same spot over and over. He was staring at his computer screen. His lips were pursed and the lines on his forehead were scrunched. His shoulders were slouched forward. His posture made it look like he was carrying the weight of the world. It took all of your will power to stop yourself from going over to him and massaging the worry out of his shoulders. 

You had no idea how long you had been staring at him but you realized you had been rubbing the same spot on the counter the entire time. You turned around to try to shake this man out of your thoughts and maybe actually get some cleaning done. You were always the one who closed the café and you had your clean up routine down like clock work. 

The café was supposed to be open for another thirty minutes but you decided to start a little early so you didn't have to stay after closing time to clean up. You knew you were going to leave a full pot of warm coffee, just in case your only costumer wanted more. 

You were startled by the sound of someone clearing their throat. You turned around and saw that glorious sparkle in his eyes again. You joked around a little and topped up his coffee for him. When he set his cup back down on the counter, you realized he was going to stick around the counter to chat with you instead of going to sit back down. You immediately took advantage of it.

“So, what brings you to our small town. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.” His look changed from gentle to troubled.

“Work. I’m here to help investigate the murders that have happened over the last few days.” You now understood why his demeanor changed. “Oh yeah, I just heard about that today from my friend, Charlie. She said they finally found the animal that was attacking people. It was a mountain lion.”

He perked up, “They know for sure that it was a mountain lion? They found the animal?” he questioned quickly. “Yeah, I guess. It sounds awful. I guess the mountain lion was sick and was desperate for food. They put it down this morning.” You said with a frown. That whole thing was just awful.

“How did they know they got the right one?” he seemed to be asking himself more than asking me but I answered anyway.  “Charlie told me that they found the blood of one of the victims on the cougar’s fur and in it’s mouth. They are going to do a full autopsy on the animal this week. That’s all I know though.”

He hung his head and whispered to himself, “We drove all the way here for nothing.” He seemed to be very upset about it. “Hey,” I said as cheeringly as possible, “You didn’t come here for nothing. You wouldn’t have been able to have my ‘world famous cinnamon bun’ if you hadn’t come here.”

His head shot back up with his shinning smile, “You’re right! And that was seriously delicious. The best I’ve ever tasted.” A blush crept its way over your cheeks. “Thanks, I’m glad you liked it.” His eyes stayed on you as he held his hand out towards you. “I’m Sam, by the way.”

You reached out in reflex to his action and put your hand in his. “I’m (Y/n).” The second your hands touched, the warmth from his hand traveled into yours and throughout your whole body giving you a flood of tingles. He shook your hand up and down and said, “It’s very nice to meet you.” “Likewise” You smiled back and he gently let go of your hand taking away the heat with him. You immediately missed his touch and felt cold.

He noticed you shiver and said, “Would you like to have a coffee with me? We can even split a cinnamon bun, if you have any left. I know it’s so crowded in here,” he teased ”but you deserve a break.” he waited expectantly. You wanted to do nothing else. 

“Of course” You responded while internally deciding to clean up after you close so you could spend time talking to this handsome stranger. His smiled brightly at your answer. You grabbed another cinnamon bun and cut it in half. You poured yourself a cup of coffee and walked over with Sam to sit next to him in the other arm chair.

You sat and talked for so long about so many different things that you lost track of time. It was so easy for you to talk to Sam. He told you about his brother and how he travels all the time. He didn’t talk much about his job though. He asked you about your family, your hobbies, your hopes and dreams. And before you knew it, three hours had gone by. You were supposed to close up the café two and a half hours ago. 

You were torn because you wanted to sit and talk with him for forever. You didn’t want this moment to end. But, you knew that was unrealistic and decided to start cleaning up. You didn’t charge Sam for his coffee.  He decided to pay you back by helping you clean up. You tried to tell him that it was unnecessary but he insisted. He helped you load the dishes, wipe down tables and sweep the floor.

Everything he did made your feelings for him stronger. You couldn’t believe that you had only known him for a few hours and yet you were so drawn to him. There was something so comforting about him. You couldn’t put your finger on it but you didn’t want the feeling to ever go away. 

As you finally finished cleaning up the café, Sam insisted he walk you to your car to make sure there were no more evil mountain lions lurking around. You were glad he did because you wanted to be with him for as long as possible.

You wrapped your arms around yourself trying to stay warm in the cool air. Sam had his hands in his pockets. As you reached your car, you turned to face him. “Thanks for helping me clean up, although you really didn’t have to.”

He smiled sweetly, “You didn’t charge me for any drinks or food. I had to earn my keep somehow.” You smiled back at him. After a few seconds of silence, you chimed in, “So, will I see you around town?” you asked hopefully.

His smile dropped a little as he thought about what to say. “My brother and I will probably have to check out a few things tomorrow morning for the case but if we don’t find any more information, we will probably be heading out on another case right after.” He said defeated.

You frowned, “I see.” You took a deep breath trying to suppress the rush of emotions your body was currently going through. “Well, when you do make it back in town, you’ll have to come back and visit me. I’ll make sure to give you a warm cinnamon bun.” That brought a smile back onto his face and his eyes began to sparkle again. “I’d like that.” He declared and started searching through his pocket with his hand.

“I’d love to have the recipe. Maybe you should give me your number so I could contact you to learn how to make it.” You were elated that he wanted to stay in contact. You knew that the recipe was just an excuse to get your number.

“Good idea” you said as you punched in your number. You added your contact information and then handed the phone back to him. He quickly took the phone and began to scroll through his contacts. But his face fell into the more adorable pout. “Your name’s not in here.” he said sadly. You chuckled at his pouty lip.

“Yes it is.” you said as you scrolled over to the C’s. You placed your finger below the name you added to show him. “See, I’m right there” He grinned wildly as he saw you had put your number under Coffee Girl. He quickly started typing into his phone. You figured he decided to change it to your name instead. Your phone began buzzing in your pocket. You look over at Sam to see him showing you his screen. It said Calling... Pretty Coffee Girl. You couldn’t contain your happiness as you realized he added the word pretty to your name. You reached into your purse to pull out the phone that had just stopped ringing. It said 1 missed call. 

You immediately knew what name you were going to put his number under. He waited to see what you were doing. As soon as you finished updating his contact info you pressed the call button. You turned the screen towards him to show him what you had done. Your screen said Calling... Handsome Stranger.

His eyes lit up like fireworks. He stepped closer to you and leaned down. He placed his hands on your shoulders and pressed his lips onto yours. You immediately returned the motion. Even though it was cold outside, you could no longer feel it because your entire body was on fire. Your toes were tingling from the overdrive of sensations.

His lips left yours all too soon. He picked his head up and looked down at you trying to get some air in his lungs. His eyes pierced into yours. You’ve been in a few relationships before and you knew you have had strong feelings for certain people over the years but nothing compared to the feeling you just experienced. The only way you could think of to describe it was that it felt like home.

You wanted to feel it again. You reached up to grab the back of his neck. You pulled on him to bring him down again closer to you. He was surprised by your action but caught up to you quickly. His lips crashed down onto yours again with a little more force. That feeling immediately came back. You felt energized and comforted all at the same time. You pulled away first this time. You knew you were a goner. This guy was it. There would never be another one like him. 

A gust of cold air shook you back to reality. “I should probably get home before the sun comes up.” You joked. He smiled. His smile will never get old. “Yeah, I should head back to my room and get a couple hours of shut-eye before I have to go tomorrow.” A yawn escaped his lips. It made you yawn. You both chuckled.

“You take care of yourself around here. Watch out for any evil creatures that may be lurking around town.” You laughed, he seemed to be genuinely scared for your safety. “Well, I know who to call if I hear of any evil creatures.” He smiled and lifted his phone up dramatically. “Call me anytime about anything.” you rolled your eyes at his dramatics. “You too. Don’t be a stranger.” you teased. 

“Oh, I don’t plan to. My goal is to one day have you drop the word stranger off of my name in your phone so I'll just be labeled handsome.” He puffed up his chest a little.

“It’s good to have goals.” you said as you opened the car door. You sat down in the drivers seat and looked back up at Sam.

“Tonight was really nice. I’m glad I met you.” you stated.

“Me too. I couldn’t imagine a better night.” he smiled down at you. He leaned down and gave you one last peck on your lips. “Drive carefully!”

“Have a safe walk back to your room.” You said as he shut your car door for you.

You had offered to drive him back but he said it was unnecessary. He could just cut through the back of the café parking lot and be at his room in less than a minute. He stood and watched as you pulled out of the parking lot. You both did one final wave before parting ways. 

The whole ride home was a blur because your mind went back over every detail of the night. You wanted to remember everything that happened. As you parked your car in your driveway, you heard your phone chime, alerting you that you got a text. You made your way inside to get out of the cold before reading it. As you dropped your keys on the small stand by the door, you read the message.

Did anything evil attack you on your way home?

You giggled. You knew it was his silly way of asking you if you got home safely.

Yes, I am dead on the side of the road. No more cinnamon buns for the world.

You made your way to change out of your work clothes and into your pajamas.

What a tragic loss for the world! Those cinnamon buns were heavenly.

Before you could respond, he texted again. You better not be texting and driving! You giggled.

I’m not. I’m at home and already changed into my pj’s.

You climbed into bed and started arranging your pillows when you heard your phone chime again.

Good. I’m glad to hear it. Thanks again for everything tonight. I hope you get lots of rest. Goodnight, Pretty Coffee Girl!

You smiled a smile that spread all the way up to your eyes.

You’re welcome! I’m so glad you came in tonight. Goodnight, Handsome Stranger!

You set your phone down on your side table and laid back to rest your head on your pillow. Sleep overwhelmed you quickly but your smile never left your face. You had the sweetest dreams about the most handsome stranger.

[princevolker2788]

(Vermintide Fanfic Chapter 1) Life for Life, Death for Death, Love for Love

@xavirne

Hello everyone, this is my first post in over a year, and I apologize for that. I'm pleased to say that I just recently graduated from college.

Besides that though, I've had this story running around in my head for a few months.

If it wasn't obvious, I've fallen into the Warhammer hole, specifically concerning the Sisters of Battle in Warhammer 40K and the Wood Elves in Warhammer Fantasy, or as its known now: Warhammer: Age of Sigmar.

A little terminology for the uninitiated:

Slaanesh is the deamon lord of gluttony, excess, and pleasure in the world of Warhammer Fantasy. His primary desire is to consume as many elven souls as possible. Which is pretty much guaranteed unless an elf dies near a magical gem known as a waystone. 

Upon death, an elf’s soul will enter the gem and act as a barrier against deamon intrusion into their cities.

This story focuses around two characters in the video game Warhammer: Vermintide II: that of the Human Mercenary Markus Kruber and the Wood Elf Waystalker Kerillian. I hope you all enjoy my little indulgent fic about my two favorite rat slayers bonding... and maybe something more.

       Kerillian tapped her fingers against the wood of her bow in anticipation. Lorner had promised a horde of ratmen en route to a convoy of food supplies. The problem was that they’d been waiting for an hour in torrential rain that would make the citizens of Stromdorf gawp, and the ratmen hadn’t arrived.

       “Can barely feel my toes…” muttered Kruber.

       “Then maybe you should have brought better boots,” snapped Kerillian.

       Though she would never admit it, she could feel the cold seep into her bones, along with the lack of feeling spreading to her fingertips.

       “No need to be snippy, elf.”

       She rolled her eyes and inspected a single arrow, wouldn’t do to miss a kill due to sub par equipment.

       “Stop complaining, food comes to the quickest!”

       The elf snapped her fingers and pointed to the edge of the trail. Kruber, Saltzpyre and Bardin nodded as they prepped their weapons. She prayed this wouldn’t take long, a good fire and a long nap would be much appreciated at this point.

       Kerillian drew the string to her cheek and steadied her breath. Wouldn’t be long now, their foul stench wafted through the air like a globadiers poisons.

       A furry muzzle poked its way into view and she released. She smirked under her mask as it struck home and pinned another rat to a tree trunk.

       With this complete she unslung the glaive from her shoulder and leapt off the fallen tree she’d been balancing on, arching the blade high in the sky as she brought it down on a stormvermin’s skull with a satisfying chunk. Surprised squeaks and yelps filled the air as her compatriots followed suit, Kruber and Bardin swept the front ranks with crushing blows, while Kerillian and Saltzpyre tore through the center ranks, slipping under the arms of the lesser vermin with brutal efficiency.

       She heard a familiar hiss and a pop as a blaze of warpfire tore the left flank of the Skaven apart. The elf dove behind a nearby tree, wincing as one of the warp infused bullets scraped her side.

       “Gunners targeting me!” She shouted.

       “Got our own problems wutelgi!”

       Kerillian swore under her breath as her cover was bisected by a stormvermin great sword. They were learning, adapting to their particular method of fighting. Well, she didn’t become a waystalker to be taken out by a simple grunt.

       The elf spun around the trunk and brought the glaive into the ratman’s side. As it reeled, she took a single step back and cleaved its head from its shoulders. Foul brackish blood splattered against the forest floor. Satisfied, Kerillian dove into the underbrush as the ratling gunner adjusted its fire. Thankfully its reactions were slower than the mayflies or she’d have been torn apart long ago.

       Skaven bodies littered the ground around her, making it much easier for her to creep up on the unsuspecting beast. It kept firing at her last known position, ignoring her compatriots with a fervor she hadn’t expected.

       Does it hate me I wonder?

       The thing barely had time to contemplate its next move before she dug her blade deep into its spine. It let out a shriek of fury as it swung around, tearing the polearm from her grasp. Kerillian growled as she drew two arrows back and let them fly. Only one struck its intended target, but it was enough to make the rat beast pause.

       “Burn in hell!”

       Just as she drew a third arrow to finish the job, a spear impacted the ground by her feet, forcing her to step aside as a veritable wave of Skaven swarmed up the hill on her right.

       “Pull back!” Shouted Bardin, “Its not worth the trouble!”

       Kerillian scoffed as she made her way to the rest of the group, firing at any rat that got too close for comfort.

       As the vermin fell, so too did she into her familiar battle trance, like in Ubersreik when it had just been the five of them in the streets, each member of their little group working in tandem.

       But they had failed, and now the Reikland burned.

       “No more,” she muttered.

       She let one more arrow loose and scuttled up the rock outcropping they had agreed on as their final stand. Kruber’s gauntleted hand clasped her wrist and tugged, giving her enough momentum to flip onto the rockface and resume firing. He took up position behind her, swinging out at the horde that roiled and fumed with fury beneath them.

       “Still cold mayfly?”

       “No, pissed off more like.”

       Kerillian snorted and spun around to cut down an Eshin assassin before it could leap onto the mercenary.

       “Keep your eyes open.”

Kruber grunted as he drove his Zweihander deep into the neck of a stormvermin stupid enough to expose itself. Bardin let out a triumphant shout of glee as the rats started to break, each looking to the other for support as Saltzpyre’s flintlocks blew the brains out of their last squad leader.

She cast her gaze over the retreating force and spotted the rat gunner, lumbering away with the glaive still embedded in its side. She drew back her bow with a confident chuckle.

“Got you now…”

The arrow flew in an arc, descending on the hapless gunner in perfect silence. The rain still fell in sheets, but the satisfaction of a day’s work complete gave the waystalker enough energy to make her way through the dead, collecting as many arrows as she could on the way to her fallen weapon.

The rest of her compatriots were about ten meters behind her, save for Kruber, the man seemed to be watching over her, more so than when they were in Ubersreik. She was content to let him, after being captured by the enemy she welcomed someone by her side. Even if that person was a Lumberfoot.

Rainwater hissed as it impacted with the glowing metal of the ratling gun, creating a small cloud of condensation that hung in the air. As she inspected her kill, a grim sense of satisfaction came over her. There was nothing quite like taking down worthy prey from such a distance.

“You got what you needed?”

Kruber hovered behind her, no doubt curious as she yanked the glaive free. She marveled at the blade’s resilience, any human made weapon would have chipped at such abuse, but not this.

“Oh yes.”

        She hefted the pole arm on her shoulder and nodded towards their allies, still making their way across the battlefield.

        “Not bad mercenary, another decade and we might make a proper soldier of you.”

        Kruber shook his head as he hefted his own blade.

        “I don’t think I’m getting any better, much less younger.”

        “Oh I dunno, your form seems to have improved significantly since Ubersreik. Or else I’m misremembering. Which could be true…”

        Her dreams had quieted as of late, but when they came, they wracked her with visions of terror, elven souls consumed by The Prince of Pleasure, Slaanesh, grown fat in his gluttony. Skaven multiplying unchecked, spreading their foul corruption with the chaos warriors of the north. She’d wake in a cold sweat, silent tears streaming down her face as she struggled to reign in her terrified breaths.

        She thanked Lileath that no one seemed disturbed by her thrashing, but there were days she wished someone would ask about it, just so she could have an excuse. But then again, what would it sound like to the likes of Kruber, Bardin, or Saltzpyre? The ravings of a lunatic?

         Sienna was the only possible option, but the woman seemed subdued as of late, consumed in her devotion to Sigmar. Even Saltzpyre remarked on her reverence of their god with an almost respectful tone.

          So she fought and fought, praying that exhaustion would be enough to hold back the nightmares, to little success.

          Kruber quirked a brow at her silence. She met his gaze, nodding to the Witch Hunter as her approached.

         “I’m going to check on the convoy, they should be arriving soon. Make sure we don’t have any unwanted guests hiding in the underbrush.”

          Kerillian said nothing, leveling a scowl at the man as Kruber made his way down the path and onto the road.

         “You presume much mayfly.”

         “And you’ve yet to earn my trust.”

         The elf scoffed.

         “I would think the months spent in Ubersreik would be enough.”

          She didn’t give him time to respond as she followed Kruber’s path, lightly stepping around the corpses while he merely stepped on them.

         “He’s trying his best I think,” he said as she finished her approach.

         “To what end? Being less of a pompous ass?”

          Kruber chuckled.

         “I think he’s trying to make it work. He’s not so bad ya know.”

         “When he’s not insulting my people, he can be tolerable,” she admitted, though with the taste of bile in the back of her throat.

         “Well you do make it enticing from time to time, the way the bridge of your nose crinkles when you’re angry can be quite amusing if I’m honest.”

          She scowled.

         “See? Like that.”

         Kerillian shouldered her blade and drew her bow, looking in every direction except Kruber’s.

         “What he does is of no concern of mine as long as he ducks when I tell him to.”

         Kruber said nothing as he checked the nearby bodies for signs of life. A few had slid down the hill; most bearing broke arrow shafts embedded in their necks or chests.

         “Well? Are we done here?”

         “We will be if you’d let me have a decent look.”

         She opened her mouth to snap at him and froze as she became aware of a titan sized figure staring at them just behind a cluster of trees.

        “Kruber…” she whispered.

        “Not now.”

        Kerillian let her hand reach out for the sergeant’s shoulder. He tensed under her grip, but only for a fraction of a second.

       “Markus, we have a shadow. No sudden moves. Run for the others when I say,” she hissed, attempting to look as casual as she could with a white knuckled grip on her companion’s shoulder.

       “Where is it?”

        She shook her head.

       “It's not worth it mayfly, just go when I say.”

       “I’m not leaving you behind.”

       Kerillian bit back a groan. Most of the time the man’s loyalty was admirable in its own way, but now it was bordering on infuriating.

       “I’ll be right behind you ya idiot!” she snarled, “Just go!”

       With this, she drew a single trueflight arrow from her quiver, one of three she’d managed to scavenge.

       But the figure was no longer there.

       “I don’t see it!”

       Kruber was only halfway up the hill.

       “Keep moving!”

       A deafening roar split the air, forcing Kerillian’s gaze to her right as a mass of muscle tore through the trees, barreling for Kruber’s exposed position. She fired without thinking, striking the beast she recognized as a bile troll in the arm. She cupped her mouth one handed.

       “Hey, over here!”

       It didn’t turn from its prize. Kruber, to his credit, turned to face the beast, blade in hand. She switched to her glaive and charged, roaring at the top of her lungs. Arrows could do little with this thing’s reach.

       The glaive dug into its shin cleanly, taking a good chunk out of its flesh. It’s arm swatted at her ineffectually, giving Kruber enough time to drive his sword into its chest.

       Heavy bile gushed out of the wound, cutting through Kruber’s gauntlets at a sickening speed. He gritted his teeth, dragging the blade out and striking once more. Kerillian followed his lead, dancing behind the crouching troll to strike at the tendons connecting its feet to its legs.

       She didn’t have time to duck as its hand clamped around her waist. It squeezed its prize, forcing the air from her lungs as it brought her up to its gurgling maw. Everything in her chest hurt, her lungs refused to bring in blessed air as bile made its way to the top of its throat.

       “No you don’t!”

       A familiar Zweihander struck the troll in its throat, not enough to pierce, but enough for it to loosen its grip.

       She fell to the ground in a pained heap, sucking in greedy lungfuls of air as Kruber dragged her away. Damn him, she tried to explain, but no the man just wouldn’t listen.

       Kerillian cast about for her glaive, finding it a good three meters behind the troll. She tried to stand, only to be forced to the ground by the mercenary.

       “No, stay back, I’ve got this.”

       “I had it! If you’d just—”

       The beast roared again, charging Kruber at a frightening speed. She resigned herself and drew her bow, grateful that the wood still retained its shape.

       Kruber halted the beast’s progress with a slice at its legs, where she had struck before. He stepped out of its grasp, drawing it away from her and closer to a nearby bridge. Now she understood.

       Her fingers traced the ridged fletching of a hagbane arrow and drew it from the quiver. Just pulling it back was a trial in of itself; lances of fire ran up her sides. The foul beast had done more damage than she thought.

       C’mon Kruber, just a bit more…

       The Bile Troll took one lumbering step onto the bridge, and she let it loose.

       Satisfaction took her as the beast stumbled, soon replaced with concern as it continued to move. The poison should have downed it in seconds!

       Despite her body’s protests she rushed forward, scooping up her fallen glaive and driving it deep into the monster’s flesh. It groaned, swatting at her pathetically. So the poison had done its work, just slower than she anticipated.

       “Kruber! Are you alright?”

       The lack of a response drove her to strike again, this time at the back of its knee, which she took clean off. This time it couldn’t just shrug it off.

       “Kruber!?”

       She ran to the front, to find the mercenary struggling in the grip of the troll, armor being crushed like cheap metal. Kerillian didn’t need any further prompting, she hacked away at its fingers, each the width of her arm and twice as strong. Kruber struggling ceased midway through her work.

       “No.”

       She hacked at its ring finger.

       “No!”

       Its pinky.

       “Not today!”

       Finally she severed the thumb from the rest of it, releasing the mercenary in a heap. She dropped the glaive, shaky hands reaching for the healing draught she kept on her person.

       His eyes looked to the sky, vacant, but with a small sliver of life.

       “You aren’t gonna die on me here.”        

       The elf cupped his head and forced the glass in between his lips. She massaged his throat at a hurried pace, the quicker she was, the sooner she could berate him for his foolishness.

       He coughed, shuddering in her arms as breathed deep.

       “You bloody idiot…” she sat back with a relieved sigh.

       “Did we win?”

       She coughed out a laugh.

       “Yeah we won mercenary, now lets—”

       The beast’s remaining hand lashed out at lightning speed, striking both her and Kruber in the ribs and over the bridge. It soon followed, blotting out the meager light as all three tumbled into the raging rapids below.

       The entire world turned on its head as she struck the bone chilling water. It took all her willpower to remain calm and focus on finding Kruber amidst the deluge. The troll’s corpse, at least she hoped it was a corpse, floated behind her, while Kruber’s limp form lay just ahead.

       Kerillian kicked forward, ignoring the thumping pain in her side. She had to get the armor off him; otherwise she’d never get them both to land safety.

       As her fingers found the clasps, a disturbing through hit her: what was keeping her from simply leaving him here? Why was she so dead set on sparing the life of a single mayfly when thousands died every day?

       She didn’t have time to ponder this as the heavy chest plate fell to the bottom of the river. Now she had to get them both to the surface. The Waystalker wrapped her arms around his chest and kicked the bottom of the river. They made it about a meter off the silt before they started to sink. She kicked harder, praying it would be enough, only to find herself falling once again.

       This is not how it ends! Not here!

       Her lungs were starting to burn, her legs as well. Her question from before made itself known once more.

       Why spare him?

       Because I care.

       Kruber stirred in her grasp, flailing his legs in tandem with hers. This time they rose swiftly, breaking the surface in seconds and gifting the two of them lovely air.

       “The shore!” she screamed, “Find the shore!”

       Whatever strength she had fled her then. It was all she could do to keep herself treading water as Kruber’s powerful arm brought them closer and closer to a sandbank.

       The concept of being truly chilled to the bone hadn’t been adequately understood until they scrambled into a small outcropping out of the rain. Her ribs screamed in protest as she shivered, teeth chattering beyond her control.

       Strong hands rubbed her arms, a familiar mustached face coming into view as she attempted to do the same. Her numb fingers clutched his gambeson tunic, attempting to impart some semblance of warmth into the soaked material.

       “W-we need to strip down,” she whispered.

       “What?”

       He sounded embarrassed, and if he wasn’t as cold as her she was sure he’d be blushing. Nevertheless she forced her hand to cup the back of his neck.

       “Body heat Lumberfoot, no fire, so body heat.”

       Kruber still looked unconvinced, but nodded and turned his back as he started to remove his tunic. Kerillian turned to her own clothes, shaking fingers just managing to remove the tassels on her armor, but when it got to the series of knots on her tunic it became much more difficult.

       “D-damn piece of—”

       “Let me…”

       She stilled. Kruber took up position in front of her and worked away at them with deft speed. Soon he had her shirt completely unfastened, all that remained was her breast wrapping. That she decided to keep, along with her cloak and facemask.

       “No dawdling then…” she said, rubbing her arms and torso as quick as she could.

       “Right.”

       Neither of them moved.

       “For Isha’s sake!”

       She leaned into him, one hand rubbing at his shoulder while the other continued to massage her torso, careful to avoid her bruised ribs. Under normal circumstances she might have taken note of how toned his arms were, but no, not here, not now.

       Kruber, to his credit, took to his task quick, rubbing her back as quickly as he dared, obviously scandalized by the whole thing. Humans could be so prudish. Even simple displays of affection were looked down upon. Among her people this would be considered an act of survival nothing more.

       So why was she trying to hide the burning in her cheeks and praying to whatever gods that would listen he didn’t notice the accompanying redness on the tips of her ears?

       In an attempt to remedy this, she buried her head into his shoulder. Though this only made it worse, for now she could hear his heartbeat. A steady thump-thump that reverberated through his chest in a comforting way.

       She realized why she didn’t mind him keeping an eye on her, why the constant worrying after her health, or how her attitude wasn’t irritating, but endearing.

       He felt safe.

       Kerillian let out a shudder. Kruber brought her closer, which only highlighted the issue for her as her cheek brushed against his chest, now warm from their proximity. Well, his proximity, she didn’t know how much heat she was giving off.

       As if to reassure her, he rubbed harder, transferring as much warmth as he could.

       “K-Kruber.”

       “Uh, yeah?”

       “Thank you.”

       He stopped rubbing.

       “For what?”

       She shifted in his grasp.

       “For staying by my side. I don’t know how long I would have last against that… thing.”

       Kruber visibly relaxed.

       “Ah, well, likewise. Thanks I mean, f-for saving my arse back there. Twice.”

       “Thrice,” she corrected, eyes drooping.

When did she get so tired? All she wanted to do now was sleep, sleep for years if she could.

       “Kerillian.”

       Her eyelids fluttered open, had she fallen asleep?

       “Yeah?”

       “Do you want to sleep somewhere else? You’re not shivering, and I-I wanted to make sure you were—”

       “Shh mayfly…” she slurred, “sleep now, talk later.”

       Her ear fell against his chest once more, though this time without a sense of trepidation. Why forego warmth and safety when it was right here?

       His grip tightened ever so slightly as he adjusted his position, this time to the sandy floor of their little cavern. She became vaguely aware of the sensation of a familiar cloak being draped over their shoulders.

       “Sleep than…” he said, uncertainty still lacing his words.

       “Sleep,” she commanded.

       She closed her eyes, letting the sound of the man’s heart and breathing ease her into a pleasant rest. Or at least what she hoped would be a pleasant sleep. Goddess knew she needed it.

                                                                 ***

       Cold enveloped her, a cold she felt beyond the icy rainwater numbing her fingers and bones. She struggled against it, trying to burrow into something warm. But when she opened her eyes all she saw was darkness, darkness her eyes couldn’t pierce.

       Suddenly, there came a flash of light so vivid it forced her back, craving the darkness more than she previously had. With the light came the howling of a thousand voices crying out in terror, or madness, or whatever fever gripped them. The light seemed to reach out as one, clawing at her body with increasing intensity. She felt their fingers, could almost see them as they stretched forward to touch her.

       Kerillian could do nothing as a single cold finger brushed against her arm, and a wave crashed over her.

       Millions of voices were chanting in her ears, warning her of things to come, or of things that may come. Goddess she couldn’t tell through all the noise. She saw Athel Loren burning, then swallowed by the weave. Tears streamed down her cheeks as her Ulthuani cousins followed, then the dwarves, and even parts of the reikland. Her gods failed, the dwarven gods, all save for Sigmar.

       They were all consumed. The world would fall to darkness, a plaything for the dark powers of foul Gods.

       Just as the light began to overwhelm her, it vanished, leaving her in darkness once more.

       Tears still streamed down her face, falling into the nothing around her. She clutched at her shuddering frame in a halfhearted attempt at warming her core. It didn’t help.

       “Why?” She whispered. “Why would you forsake us?”

       “Who?”

[gobigorgohome2016]

Fitness Check: Tobacco Road Half Marathon

Race weekends are so weird. I will never understand how time can move so quickly, yet so slowly, in the span of 48 hours.  

Today I raced the Tobacco Road Half Marathon in Cary, North Carolina.  Everything about this weekend seemed to embody the dichotomy of fast and slow.  

I arrived in NC early Friday afternoon, around 11 AM.  I think this race was first on my radar because my teammate, Andie Cozzarelli, lives in Raleigh and mentioned it to me the last time she raced the Indy Monumental Marathon.  My main motivation for choosing races this year was to choose ones where I could win money.

In the past chasing cash has scared me, because I have been afraid of the gnawing anger / frustration / embarrassment / resentment when the race doesn’t go the way I had hoped, and I don’t win the money I had anticipated.  There is also a factor where trying to win money, and then losing it, makes it feel more real, and scary in a way.  Which is something I need to confront.  

Friday was a lot of fun. Andie and I went for a run, watched approximately 30,000 episodes of Friends, then went out to dinner at an Italian restaurant in downtown Raleigh.  I had possibly the best seafood risotto I have ever tasted, paired with a delicious red wine.  Afterwards we watched more Friends.  What I love about my Haute Volee teammates is that they have pretty seamlessly filled the gap that was left after college during racing weekends.  Whenever Andie and I are together we run, do a little bit of work, watch some tv, eat, and talk to the point of exhaustion – just like my college days with my roommates.

Saturday I joined Andie for the end of her long run, then we headed over to the cutest coffee shop I have ever seen for a volee meet up.  A friend of mine who I hadn’t seen since high school lives in Raleigh, and we got together for lunch at a Japanese restaurant.  I ordered pho, solely for the reason that this time last year I went out to dinner with the ZAP Fitness team in Jacksonville and ate pho before running a PR.  

After parting ways with my friend, I took an uber to my hotel.  One of very few perks of Dave traveling all the time is that he can hook me up with Mariott hotels when I am out of town.  I was able to have a suite with a kitchen.  By the time I checked in at 2 PM, I only had 3 hours before the expo closed and I had to pick up my packet (no race day packet pick up).  I still needed another short run, and the expo was 2.5 miles away, so I naturally ran there.  Except, there was no sidewalk.  So I ran on the shoulder of a super busy and scary road.  #fail

By the time I got back to my hotel, I was pretty exhausted.  Even though I had really done nothing in the past 24 hours, I also felt like I had done everything.   I still needed to find some groceries, because I had already eaten the pre-race breakfast I had packed.  #secondfail

Grocery stores were really far away, but, Instacart exists in Cary!  Many struggles and 45 minutes of indecision later, I finally place my order for 18 larabars (literally), yogurt, two blood oranges, a box of instant oatmeal, 3 bananas, a beer, a dark chocolate bar, two kombuchas, and a small carton of orange juice.  Why did I order 18 larabars?  Well, I either could choose to pay $10 for delivery, or reach a certain threshold for free delivery.  18 larabars it was.  

I watched Loyola upset Tennessee, then excitedly got ready for bed because I was SO TIRED.  I had no idea the race was at 7 AM, which meant a 4 AM wake up call.  I turned off the lights at 9, but then COULDN’T FALL ASLEEP.  Normally, sleeping the night before a race is not a problem for me.  I wasn’t even thinking about the race, I just couldn’t fall asleep once I turned out the lights.  First the room was too hot.  Then I had to switch around my pillows.  Then I had to go to the bathroom.  Then the room was too cold.  Then every single person who walked down the hallway sounded like an elephant.  Then I started my period and was having cramps (seriously, my last 10 of 14 races I have started my period within 24 hours of the race.  It’s bizarre).  I remember looking at the clock at 2 AM and thinking to myself, just get 90 minutes of sleep.  

Even though I didn’t get a good night’s rest, I woke up feeling pretty good.  I had my breakfast and watched MTV.  I’ve had to give up coffee before races because I don’t think it does anything for me.  Instead, I drink green tea.  I packed a hand-made tea bag of roasted green tea that I bought in San Francisco for my morning cuppa.  

My friend, Tim, picked me up at 5 AM to head over to the start.  You know what’s cool about racing competitively?  You accumulate friends all across the country who are willing to do things like drive out of their way to pick you up.  

The next part is pretty standard:  talk with your runner friends while waiting for the start, use the porta potty 30 times, run warm up, do drills, take off clothes, pee in the woods because the porta potty line is too long, do some strides, get nervous, gun goes off, fall into rhythm.

Funny story:  the Tobacco Road is a crushed gravel trail. Basically, this race weekend was the most type B weekend of my life.  I had no idea it was a trail race because I didn’t read the website.  Honestly, I probably wouldn’t have done the race had I realized, but fortunately “trail” meant a nice crushed limestone / hard-packed dirt, tree-lined path.  

The course elevation map looked hilly.  I thought the race was going to be hilly.  Then people told me, no!  the course if very fast and flat!  I have determined that when you have a race in your hometown, you decide it is either the hardest, hilliest race in the country, or the flattest and fastest. Well, this race was neither.  The first 2.5 miles (and subsequently the final 2.5 miles) were moderate rollers, while the middle miles on the tobacco trail were long, gradual inclines / declines.  There were a few areas that were more treacherous than others, but nothing worse than that random gravel path we had to run down at the Trials.  

My plan had been to start at 5:45 effort and make adjustments as necessary.  Fortunately we warmed up on the first mile of the course so I realized that 5:45 effort was going to be significantly slower, because of both the wind and the hill.  My first mile was ~5:52 (I think).  I had overheard eventual race winner talking on the line with someone and make plans to go for 73ish min.  My plan was to let her go, then reassess the situation at 4 miles and figure out what I needed to do to catch her.  Meanwhile, within the first mile it became apparent there was going to be a struggle for second.  A woman was right with me, and surging hard to try and drop me.  

photo cred:  Andie.  Taken ~2.5 mi into the race before the wheels fell off

A big goal of mine this year has been to compete more.  To be honest, I don’t love this situation.  I am very comfortable running alone.  I don’t love to do battle at the time (of course if I come out on top I’ll tell you otherwise).  So, every time she made a surge, I went with her and then put in a surge of my own.  I did this 4 or 5 times before dropping her for good, around the 6 mile mark. Splits that I remember:  3 miles, 17:30, 4 miles:  23:04; 5 miles:  28:50, 6.6 miles:  38:00. The way back was a death march of sorts. I’m not sure what happened. Certainly the way back had more long, gradual climbs, which are not as easy for me as steep hills (they never have been; I think it’s just the way my body is built and the fact that I grew up training in the dunes).  Also, I definitely thought the wind was in my face on the way out, but it turns out it was most certainly in my face after the turnaround (there was talk of a shifting wind conspiracy.  I would have to agree).  

Something I noticed during the race was that I was far less concerned about where I was on the course because my only goal in the short term was to stay in 2nd place. I knew that I was gaining on first, but I was also on the struggle bus myself.  There was a very real feeling at mile 8 of just get through 1k at a time.  

Final finishing time: 1:17:43.  

Am I happy with that? No.  To be honest, I am pretty disappointed.  But, I also realize I am incredibly fortunate to be able to say that a sub-78 minute half marathon is a “disappointment,” especially when I earned enough money to cover a student loan payment, a car payment, and a couple weeks of groceries.  It’s also a matter of perspective.  When I was training for my PR marathon, I ran a 5 mile road race 7 weeks before Twin Cities. I ran 28:45 and was beyond ecstatic with a new PR.  Today, I went through 5 miles in 28:50 and still had 8.1 miles to go.  7 weeks out from the trials I ran 1:17:19 on a course that was flat and didn’t have gravel.  To quote Brene Brown, the middle is messy, but that’s where the magic happens.  

I have had quite a few setbacks recently.  It’s hard to acknowledge setbacks, but also not allow them to let you feel like you’re spiraling out of control.   

My coach reminded me today that I strive way too hard for perfection, when all I have to be is good.

Regardless, I asked Coach Dean if I could set up an appointment with him this week, because I think a mental game tune-up never hurts.  

Even though I consider myself a highly Type A person, I did a whole lot of Type B things this weekend:

-have no idea I was running a trail race

-have no idea what time the trail race started (there was a point in time where I banned myself from running 7 AM races because it requires waking up at 4 AM…)

-wait to get my bib number until the last possible minute, then get stuck running down a highway

-forget to grab my gels when I went to the starting line

The great thing, though, is that none of this bothered me.  I think there was a point in time where I would have freaked the f*ck out if any one of these things happened, let alone all of them.  

So, what would I have done differently?  Absolutely nothing.  77:43 is where I’m at right now.  It’s not the worst place in the world to be, that’s for sure.  I wish I was faster, but all I can do about that is keep working and making the right investments into my training.  

[neen-writes]

Silver for Monsters -- Chapter 2

Series: Witcher/Fairy Tail

Pairing: Gajevy

Summary: In a world ravaged by monsters where magic is becoming outlawed and nonhumans are hunted, the Witcher known as Black Steel Gajeel takes up a contract. He expects to find a simple old herbalist, terrorized by a beast in the woods. But in his many years he has learned to never trust what he expects.

Ch. 1

The fire crept through, licking at the edges of his consciousness and weaving trails he tried to follow.  They were the light in the dark, and the Witcher stumbled through to keep up with them.  Farther and farther the fire got away from him, while his empty hands gripped at the thickened dark.  The deeper he got into the black, the more a collection of embers started to blossom in front of him.  He picked up his pace, racing now towards the light that beckoned him.

Then the light took form, and he stopped running.  Waves on fire.  Gold, blue running into one another, the locks brushed over her shoulders, drawing him into that current in a way he could imagine drowning in it.  She wore something different than when he first saw her, but he couldn’t make out the details of it, as she started to turn to face him.  Her eyes burned brighter than any flame, lit by the movements of her delicate fingers.  From them the threads of flame originated, and she weaved them expertly in front of her.  To bring him to her.

Slowly, the woman lifted her eyes to meet his, and in them he saw immeasurable intensity.  And a dose of fear.  Her mouth moved with silent words, words he couldn’t understand.  He tried to get closer to her, but the distance between them didn’t change.  Slowly she smiled at him, and flicked the flames off her hands.  Her lips moved again, and he finally heard her voice, clear as day.

“Gajeel.”

--

The Witcher sputtered awake, sitting up quickly.  His yellow eyes darted around him, reminding himself where he was.  The now-dead campfire, two horses grazing nearby, a large tree overhead, the sun just starting to rise over the horizon.

“How many of those dreams do you have to shoot up from before you go talk to the witch again?”

The deep, gravelly voice drew Gajeel’s attention to his left.  The umber-skinned man lounged against the trunk of the tree, his bare arms crossed over his chest.  He regarded Gajeel with one golden eye, while a thick, old scar ran over his milky left one.  A taunting smile played across his face, knowing what had ripped his close friend from sleep.

Gajeel hissed, narrowing his eye at his companion before looking away.  “Shut up, Lil,” he grumbled, rubbing his face to erase the images from his head.

“You haven’t had a solid sleep since you ran off to Midcopse on your own,” the other Witcher pressed.  “Sorceresses are dangerous, Gajeel.”

“They’re just dreams,” Gajeel fired back, “Drop it, Lily.”  His friend wasn’t far off the mark.  It had been weeks since he killed the Fiend, but he could not get the image of the little mage out of his head.  He tried his best to tell himself it was the shock of her reveal that stuck with him, but so many nights he had the same dream.  And he couldn’t help feeling like she was calling out to him.

Lily raised his hands in surrender, “Fine, fine.  But the lack of sleep better not slow you down.  I’d rather not have to patch you up again after a monster uses you as a distracted chewtoy.”

“I recall havin’ to save your ass after many a Griffin so I don’t wanna hear it,” he snapped, rolling his shoulders.  “Now, what’s the contract again?”

“Do you ever listen to me?” Lily grumbled, running a palm over his buzzed scalp with a sigh.

“Not my fault ya decided to tell me about it after my fifth Kaedweni,” Gajeel shrugged, still able to taste the dark stout.  They’d been kicked out of the tavern after his eighth, when he decided it was a good idea to get into a brawl over cards.  It seemed worth it at the time but in retrospect he would have rather passed out in a bed that night.  And though Lily wasn’t saying anything, he could feel the bitterness hanging around him.  Gajeel was not an easy drunk to take care of.

His friend merely rolled his eye, sparing Gajeel a lecture he had heard many times before.  “As I told you last night, it’s not a formal contract.  I just heard some men talking at the tavern.  There’s a refugee camp, a half day’s ride south, but it’s been taken over by bandits that’re holding them hostage.  It would be of great benefit to the area to have the camp freed up again.”

“What bandits do usually ain’t our concern,” Gajeel remarked, crossing his arms.  “We hunt monsters, not men.”

“No, but should we free them, that’ll be a lot of very greatful civilians.  There’s like to be a reward in it,” Lily explained, “Plus--”

“Plus you’re a bleedin’ heart?”

“You know very well I hate this damn war, Gajeel.  Both sides of it.  If there’s a mutually beneficial opportunity to help, I’m going to take it,” Lily explained, tight-lipped; like he had more he wanted to say but held back.  Gajeel, knowingly, did not push.  Lily started to get up onto his feet, picking up his swords to strap both over his back, fastening the buckle over the chest of his sleeveless armor.  Though Witchers aged significantly slower than humans thanks to their mutations, Lily looked at least ten years Gajeel’s senior.  Grey started to pepper the black stubble on his face and fine wrinkles creased the corners of his eyes and around his mouth, the only indicators that he was aging at all.  But the sinewy muscle that flexed on his exposed arms, just as toned as Gajeel, showed age had done nothing to dull his finesse.

“Alright, calm down.  Damn,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes,  “Guess it’ll be nice to use some steel for a change,” Gajeel grinned, a dark mirth flashing across his face as he rose as well, grabbing his swords.  He didn’t often delight in killing humans, but he had no qualms with gutting bandits.  And it had been a long while since he’d had the chance to remind people why they called him Black Steel.

“Oh, by the way,” Lily started, not bothering to look at his friend as he grabbed the saddle of his horse, “The ride will conveniently swing us fairly close to Midcopse on the way.”  He swore he heard Gajeel choke, and he had to stuff down the laugh that threatened to break out.

“One of these days, Panther, one of these days, I’m going to let the next Griffin just have you,” Gajeel growled.

“Don’t call me that, you know I hate it,” Lily warned as he hauled himself into the saddle.  Lily was far more understated than Gajeel had ever been, and had a style far more geared towards stealth and calculation.  He preferred the quiet, calculated kill, and he gradually garnered the nickname.  It was a style he had tried to teach to Gajeel, but the boy had a wild mind and a raw talent that would not be guided towards the calm and collected route.  

“Why the hell do ya think I call you it,” Gajeel pulled up onto his own horse and dug his heels into its side.

--

“I’m not going in, Lil,” Gajeel grumbled, staring at the village down the road.  “We got places to be.”  He didn’t even know what he would do if he did go back.  What would he say?  What reason had he to really go?  He couldn’t tell her she’d plagued his dreams for weeks, so he just decided to ‘check in.’  “What the hell you want me to say to her?”

“Oh, just suck it up, boy.  I’m sick of listening to you whine in your sleep,” Lily groaned at him.

But the other Witcher growled a curse under his breath and yanked on the reins of his horse, turning them in the other direction.  “No.”  His voice was harsh, final, and Lily knew there was no changing his mind.  The older Witcher sighed deeply, but wordlessly moved his horse to follow Gajeel, away from Midcopse.  He would try again on their way back.

They smelled the smoke and death before they saw any signs of the camp.  Both Witchers quietly dismounted from their horses and left them to graze near a tree.  Carefully, they moved off into the brush, weaving around trees to remain under cover.  

“We should get a good look of the layout.  See where they’re thinnest and get an idea of how many versus civilians,” Lily suggested, keeping his tone low.  There was a fluid, very feline nature to his movements now, with intense focus on the path in front of him.  His namesake became very apparent the moment he decided to get serious, whether he wanted it or not.  

Gajeel grunted in response, and came to a crouch at the edge of the treeline, at the top of the hill.  Down the slope, nestled in the large clearing were several tents that were once used by the refugees.  Beyond the camp, onwards to the south, lay open grassland.  The camp now bustled with the movement of several large, armed men, with clubs and axes slung over their shoulders.  Something in their appearance looked different from the usual road-rabble, and the two of them glanced at each other curiously. The Witchers steadied their breathing and focused, listening to what they could below.  They could hear the bandits’ conversations, hear women and children crying, and hear the voices of others trying to comfort them.  

“At least twenty, likely more,” Lily whispered, narrowing his eyes, his good one slowly scanning over the settlement.  “More civilians than that, hard to know how many.  Hear the chains?”

“Mm,” Gajeel nodded, “Have them trapped inside.”  He drew a deep breath and grimaced, “Haven’t bothered to take out the dead.  In a while.”  Monsters.  Men loved so much to think they were somehow above the beasts that came out of the cataclysm, that those were the true monsters.  When really, they were just reflections of themselves from another realm.  They were no better, but the existence of monsters allowed them to separate their own depravity from it and somehow sleep at night.  “Suggestions?”

“We split up.  I’ll hit the east, you the west.  Kill as many of them as you can, I’ll release as many hostages as I can, to get them out of the way.  Take away their leverage,” the older Witcher looked to Gajeel, “Slice first, figure out who they are after.”  With that, Lily stalked away from Gajeel, melting into the shadows.

He shifted his weight from one side to the other and sniffed again, something not quite right.  He couldn’t figure out what it was, but his instincts told him to move carefully.  Still, a thrill surged through his blood, quieting his doubts as he headed off in the opposite direction of his mentor.  He regarded the camp with the eyes of a predator, keeping to the edge of the underbrush to keep his cover as he descended down the hill.  His side seemed more active than Lily’s, but considering his friend had intended to focus on the hostages, and their potential pay, it made sense.  Gajeel’s focus was entirely on the bandits.  

Gajeel took one more deep, calming breath, honing all his senses on the first bandits he saw several yards in front of him, milling between the tents.  They were laughing about something, and one of them entered a tent where he heard sounds of fear from a child.  The Witcher narrowed his yellow eyes and reached back, grabbing the hilt of his steel blade: Kurogane.  It whispered on its way out of the sheath, the black steel glinting dangerously in what light reached him.  Rivulets and waves of varying shades of black and deep gray formed infinite patterns along its face, and the edges were sharpened to deadly perfection.  This blade was his pride, and he took better care of it than he did himself.

With that, the Witcher rose, striding calmly from his hiding place into the fray.  It took until he was just nearing the first tent for one of the men to realize he did not belong.  The first bandit growled out a warning curse, gripping his axe and swinging it up in front of him.  But in a blur, Gajeel was upon him, swinging his black blade upwards from his side.  The bandit did not have time to react before it split him, gut to chin, and he dropped in a shower of red.  All attention swung to Gajeel now, and every bandit went tense, regarding the Witcher with the black blade, and blood splattered across his grinning face.

“Black Steel!”

--

Nothing.  Not so much as a spark, a fizzle.  Nothing at all.  The dimeritium shackles completely blocked any magic that would have otherwise been flowing, and every time she tried to muster anything, she felt a shred of the familiar warmth and then nothing.  It cut off abruptly before she could manage anything tangible, and a spear of pain shot through her skull each time she tried.  She watched her skin begin to discolor where the metal touched it, and a dull ache pulsed from it.

Her warm eyes looked to the area around her, to anything she could hope to use, but they had been meticulous.  She knew they had been looking for her the second they revealed the dimeritium; why else bring it unless they had expected to find a sorceress?  A sorceress on the run no less.  She knew it was too high profile to come here, to a place with so much traffic.  She had not established loyalty to these people liek she had in her village, even if she had helped them.  They were frightened, unstable fold who had escaped war, and were looking for anything that could help them recover in the world.  

But she had known about the camp near Midcopse for some time, and knew there would be people who needed her.  It was a massive risk, but to help people displaced by and running from the war, she felt it worth it.  She’d been tending to the wounded for weeks, travelling back and forth between here and her home long before she’d been stymied by the Fiend.

But then they came.  Only two at first, they really did seem like more refugees; they had gone as far as to injure one another to be convincing.  She had started to tend to them, to heal them, and faster than she could react the shackles were on her wrists.  Then the rest came: men better equipped than any normal bandit.  No, they sought bounties, and what better than Radovid’s bounty on the head of every Lodge sorceress still alive?  It was the only reason she was left alive, and not in worse shape.  

But the rest of the camp was not so lucky.  Though the majority of the camp was made up of displaced humans, some nonhumans had found their way into the mix, fleeing the hunters.  Hoping there might be better luck for an elf or halfling here than anywhere else.  How poorly that had failed; they were the first to die.  They’d gotten away from the witch hunters, and instead fell to different humans with hatred in their hearts.  The rest were used for labor.

Levy could hear them talking about her outside the tent; they used her name, first and last.  A Redanian unit was already well on their way to retrieve the sorceress Levy McGarden, and with these shackles and her size, there was nothing she could do about it.  No way she could fight other than trying to talk to whomever came for her next to offer her stale bread and a sip of water.  To keep the prize alive.  But her words usually earned her a curse, or a strike if she was unlucky.  This day had been long coming, she knew that, but she had still expected to be better prepared for it.  

So she waited, chained in the tent alone, the middle of her shackles attached to a pike in the earth.  For days that she had nearly lost track of, she waited in that spot.  They hadn’t come in to see her that day, and she wondered if that was the day the regiment was set to arrive.

Waited, until the shouting began.  Levy went straight, trying to peer out the front of her tent, but unable to see anything but the men running in two different directions.  Had the Redanians arrived?  No, the shouting wasn’t right.  The screams, rather; they were agonized.

The little mage’s heart started to pound and she yanked on her chains, but the pike didn’t budge.  Her fingers moved and she furrowed her brow, trying to make a spark, but her magic died in her veins.  Still, Levy refused to be still, and resolved to at least try.  She would not be taken without a struggle, futile or not.  She refused to meet the same fate as some of the others.

--

Clang!

Their swords sung with the collision, as Gajeel held the man back with both hands gripped to the hilt of his blade, arms trembling from the effort.  His opponent pushed, trying to gain some purchase against the Witcher, and Gajeel held firm for a second longer before his elbows buckled and he stepped to the right.  Surprised, the bandit felt forward as Gajeel slid his sword up and away from the other.  In one fluid motion, he arced the blade up and over the man, bringing it down with thunderous strength onto his back.  The black steel sliced through the man’s leather armor like butter, and the body dropped limp to the earth.  

He yanked his weapon free and spun it once in his grip, flinging droplets of blood in a circle from it.  Several locks of black hair had drawn loose from his ponytail and hung in his face, sticking to the blood on his cheeks.  He’d made it almost to the center of the settlement at this point, a trail of men littered behind him.  Across the camp, he could see Lily making equally swift work of the bandits, stopping only to step briefly into the tents he passed, as frantic people fled from them soon after.

Three more armed men gathered, intentionally in front of the opening to another tent near him and faced Gajeel with a new urgency that piqued his interest.  His eyes flicked to the tent they had come between, and he smirked.  “Got somethin’ nice in there?” he finally spoke up.  With his luck, there would be a heavy chest inside and they wouldn’t need anyone to pay them after.  After all, bandits loved to hoard their loot.

One of the three men cast a cautious glance at the others and stepped back a little, placing a not-so-subtle hand on his pocket.  “Well?  You lot gonna fuckin’ kill the whoreson or not?!”  The other two finally snapped to attention, lifting their weapons.

Gajeel got into a stance, waiting for them with his sword in his right hand and his left poised on front of him.  “Try it…” he mumbled, his yellow eyes flickering.

The men charged, and Gajeel’s gaze flicked over each one of them, and the tent.  Three targets, one shot.  I can make this quick, he thought, counting their steps until…

He made a sign with his free hand and punched it forwards as a surge of unseen power flew from him.  The Ard slammed into the two men in front of him, into the third, and flew by the tent.  The force of it ripped away the front of the tent, pulling the tattered cloth down in one sheet to expose what was inside, but Gajeel was already moving.  He lurched forward at the same moment the blast left him, all his focus on the three bandits, who had been thrown to the ground.  His black sword plunged into the first man he reached, as his hand flew out to the man trying to recover right next to him.  He formed another sign, and the same blast slammed into him, but this time straight down into the ground.  The bandit screamed as bones broke, and Gajeel yanked the blade out of the first body, already heading for the third.  

The thug was barely trying to regain his breath, coughing for air, but Gajeel was already on him.  “Y-you don’t know what yer fuckin’ with…” he coughed, trying to slide away from him.  “Fuckin’ freak…!”

“Ohh… ya don’t want to call me that…” Gajeel growled, swinging his blade.  “Ya should have picked up a different profession, now let’s see what ya got in that pocket.”  Before the man could spit more insults, Gajeel plunged his blade into the bandit’s gut.  He could hear Lily close now, drawing attention away from him, enough that he had a chance to kneel down and empty the pocket of the man.  Hnn… a key.  There had to be something really good in that chest then.

The Witcher stood and turned to face the tent again, and froze, his heart suddenly running at a gallop.

The blue-haired mage sat in the center of the ruined structure, her sides heaving from just as much shock as Gajeel felt himself. Her hair was in complete disarray, her yellow tunic covered now in dust.  She blinked once, honey eyes looking him over.  “Gajeel…” she breathed, stunned that the Witcher stood before her yet again.  Immediately her heart and mind went into double time, and she looked to the key in his hand, eyes going wide with the realization.  She threw her hands up, catching on the chains as she winced.  “H-hurry!  You must get me out of these, now!  There’s no time!” she pleaded, her voice cracking.

Gajeel snapped out of his stupor when she spoke, and he stumbled towards her.  His large hands fumbled with the shackles, Dimeritium…? he thought, looking to her quickly. This just got much more complicated if these men had access to dimeritium, and had specifically taken her hostage.  “What have ya gotten into now?” he asked, finally managing to unlock the cuffs.  

Levy shook her hands free and stood, shaky on her feet.  Her knees buckled and she almost sunk back to the ground had it not been for Gajeel hooking his arm around her back for support.  She steadied herself quickly and stepped away from him, brushing the dust off herself with a wary glance in his direction.  “We need to leave, we--”

“Gajeel!  We got company!” Lily cried out, drawing the attention of the two of them to the edge of the camp, out towards the fields.  They saw the banners first: red, with the white eagle emblazoned across it.  A company of at least fifteen heavily armored Redanian soldiers rode from the south at a pace that could only mean they knew what they were coming for.  And within a matter of minutes they would reach them for it.

Levy backed away farther from Gajeel, her eyes looking around her quickly, trying to form a plan, but the Witcher reached out and put his hand on her shoulder, forcing her to look at him.  “What the hell are ya doing here?!” he demanded, towering over her.

“That’s not important!” Levy shouted as she shrugged away from his touch and lifted her hands up in front of her.  Sparks sputtered in front of her fingers, but she still felt the effects of the shackles as she tried to flick magic from her hands.  A string of curses fell from her lips as she glanced at the approaching soldiers.  Her captors.

“Gajeel!  Are we standing or backing down?” Lily called again, making his way to them, clutching his steel blade.  He was equally splattered in blood and dirt, sides heaving from the effort.  “I freed as many as I could find but the rest of the bandits have backed off to the Redanians.”  He looked to Levy now, raising his brows at the magic she tried to cast.  He shot a questioning stare to Gajeel, who merely shook his head.  

“We stand.  We can’t outrun them and they are coming for us.  For her.” Gajeel replied, studying the woman.  She had a blossoming bruise around her right eye, and a cut on her lip.  They’d not been gentle with her, even though she’d been completely disarmed, and for whatever reason this fact grew seeds of anger in his chest.  As though oblivious to him, she shook her hands again, and small bolts of blue shot off of them at last.  “O-Oi!” Gajeel exclaimed, taking a step away from her instinctively.

Levy shot him a look that stilled him, gold flickering through her irises.  She looked determined, steady, and he could see her thoughts racing, while blue electricity danced from her fingertips. “If you want to escape them--this--I need you to trust me like you know me, for five minutes.  Just five minutes.”

“Gajeel, we should leave, now.  This is not our fight, and it’s more than we came here for,” his friend urged, taking a tight hold on his arm. There was nothing but wariness with regards to the sorceress.  He had already pieced together that this was the one that plagued Gajeel, but that certainly didn’t mean he trusted her.  

Still, Gajeel hesitated, watching her turn away from him, noticing the ever so subtle shaking in her hands as she held them out to her sides.  She was afraid, and she did not wait for an answer.  Gajeel wasn’t stupid, he knew why Redanian soldiers would be here.  If she was ever involved with the Lodge, then she had a price on her head.  Radovid would stop at nothing to round all of them back up, and it looked like they had come damn close to getting her.

“I need to buy some time.  I can’t make one, just yet…” she muttered to herself, rolling her shoulders, then her head.  Her neck popped and she exhaled, trying to center herself.  To focus.

The company had just entered the southern border of the camp as Levy stopped in place and lifted her hands high.  She muttered unintelligible words under her breath, the sparks growing in intensity.  Her hair whipped about her face, the electricity raising the locks and ruffling her tunic.  She stared, unwavering, at the wall of horses that raced towards them, blades already unsheathed and at the ready.

Levy took in a sharp breath, feeling her magic once more course through her in burning waves.  Her hands closed into fists as she swung her arms down in front of her.  

A deafening crack cut through the air as a massive bolt of lightning fired down from the blue heavens at the head of the charge, exploding into the earth.  Horses and men screamed as they went flying, and the attack cleared out half the company with a single strike.  Lily and Gajeel leaned back, awed by the display, and already she was working on her next move, having halted the attack with a gaping crater and spooked horses that the soldiers now struggled to rein back in.  

“Now can we get out of here?” Lily urged, just as Levy turned to face them.  

“Yes,” she answered for them breathlessly, earning raised, skeptical brows.

Her gazed flicked between the two, like she was trying to work something out, before she walked confidently towards Gajeel.  Her right hand pivoted in circles, like trying to spin an invisible wheel.  The Witcher stood rooted, unsure what the mage intended to do, ignoring the words of his friend.  A shock of a different kind coursed through him as she reached out and laid her hand, the one not twirling, on his chest.  “Didn't think we'd meet again so soon, Black Steel,” she offered him a slow smile. Her eyes met his, that blazing gold still burning at the center of her irises, and he found himself unable to move.  Immeasurable intensity, with a dose of fear.

Words failed Gajeel still, but he tore his gaze away from her to look beyond her as the remaining soldiers rounded up to continue their advance around their fallen comrades.

When he looked away, when he was distracted as she had hoped for, Levy extended her spinning hand to the side, swinging it round in a large circle.  At that moment, a gaping, orange portal opened directly next to her, and an invisible force drew her in.  She smirked up at the Witcher, now tightly gripping the sword strap over his chest.  Gajeel’s attention flew to her, eyes wide.  “W-wait, hold on!” Instinctively he reached for her, as Lily reflexively held firm to his friend’s arm, and all three flew through the mouth of the portal, disappearing from the camp entirely.

[biofunmy]

The Long Road to Injury Recovery

Welcome to the Running newsletter! Every Saturday morning, we email runners with news, advice and some motivation to help you get up and running. Sign up here to get it in your inbox.

Dear Readers,

On Wednesday, I set out to run for an hour in the Arapaho National Forest outside of Fraser, Colo. I picked a trail that was closed to cars and ATVs and bikes, which seemed like a safe bet, but the trail also went uphill. After running for about two minutes, I started to walk.

In my mind, I began to criticize my efforts as pathetic, but then I backed up to reframe my thinking. Instead of berating myself for what I couldn’t do, I would try to focus on how far I’ve come.

I’ve now completed seven weeks of training for the New York City Marathon. I had to stop running this winter after being diagnosed with a stress fracture to my tibia, so I was excited to get going again. I feel better when I run. I eat better, I sleep better, and I’m more focused at work too. I’m a better person when I run. Without it this winter and spring, I was like a car without power steering: still able to move forward, but a lot harder to keep on track.

I’d run in fits and starts since May, but training for the marathon meant running five days a week, which I hadn’t done since February, and I expected everything to snap back into place: my endurance, my speed, and the shape of my body. That happened at 29, when I had my first big running injury, but I’m 39 now. My body isn’t as elastic as it used to be, and while I’ve been covering the distances my schedule calls for, I’ve been doing them in slower, sweaty, frustrating fashion. Sometimes I’ve woken up before dawn to run and wondered why I bothered (other than that my mother would kill me if I didn’t start the race with her when we run the New York City Marathon together this fall).

But I did bother on Wednesday morning, and I did put myself on an uphill trail about 9,000 feet above sea level, which I knew would make it harder to run because there is significantly less oxygen in the air than what I’m used to at home in New Jersey.

Why? Because I like to challenge myself, and what was the point of being in Colorado if I wasn’t going to run in the mountains? And what was the point of berating myself when, despite all of the frustration of trying to get back in running shape again, I was still on that hill that morning? With an all or nothing attitude, I had been looking back at who I was before the stress fracture, not at how much I’d accomplished in these last seven weeks. Not only can I walk without pain, but I don’t flinch at getting in six miles before work. I’m not sore after running 10 miles, and even if it was slow with some walking, I could run at altitude for an hour where not so long ago I could barely walk around my block in New Jersey.

On that morning, I was outside in the mountains on a gorgeous 44-degree morning (in August!), on a path dotted with wildflowers and smelling like Christmas trees. Who cared if I was struggling up a hill?

After a half-hour of climbing up, I turned around and ran back down, and felt so good that I shot past where I had parked my car and continued on the trail in the other direction until I got the full hour in.

For most of us, running is not our job, but we’re still competitive with ourselves. That’s what’s made coming back this time so hard. But at least on Wednesday morning, as I ate my breakfast on a tree stump by the trailhead after my run, I finally saw that I was on my way, and that there’s no shame in taking the time I need to get there.

A lot of you have written to me about dealing with injury — stress fractures and beyond. For those who have been through the healing process, what helped you to get there mentally? Let me know — I’m @byjenamiller on Twitter.

Run Well!

Jen

Jen A. Miller is the author of “Running: A Love Story”

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[smoothshift]

1k Mile review of the 2017 C43 AMG. Worthy of the AMG brand name? How does it compare to competition? via /r/cars

1k Mile review of the 2017 C43 AMG. Worthy of the AMG brand name? How does it compare to competition?

Hello everybody, I have seen quite a few reviews of the C43 but very little from an owners perspective. There's apparently a ton of controversy surrounding the car as it's one of AMG's first lower spec non hand built cars so I wanted to let you guys know my opinion. I also checked out quite a few competitors so I can maybe help you guys find which one you're looking for!

I had been looking for a Golf R wagon as it ticked all the right boxes. Fast, decent handling, big and it needed to be automatic as it is a daily for my wife who sits in traffic 90% of the time.

Competition: Golf R: Stupid fast and a great interior. The backseat is surprisingly cramped which means rear facing child seats are awful to fit. Trunk feels significantly larger but in terms of driving it's a bit on the boring side. Extremely capable but just felt like it was missing something. Better MPG, more trunk space and excellent resale meant cheaper to buy new but not a great used option. New prices are insane for what you're getting honestly. I couldn't bring myself to spend 40K euro for something that didn't "move" me.

Seat Leon CupraST: Basically a cheaper Golf R but crippling resale and abysmal interior made it a meh option

BMW 340M: EXCELLENT CAR! Super fast and feels like a bit of a hooligan but shockingly expensive and couldn't swing it as used models haven't depreciated into my financial field just yet! I would choose this over the C43 for a more sport oriented and felt like the more capable vehicle in the twisties. Another issue is the back seat felt a bit more cramped as well. The same reason I liked it (Handling) made it far less comfortable than the C43. Decent used models started at about 50K Euro so, again, just too much money.

C63 AMG: Absolutely insane. I have driven older models and they are loony fast and just obscene. Beyond 80 MPH the C63 will monster the C43 like it's standing still but below 80 there's less of a difference than I expected. There was a nearly identical C63 on the same lot for 3K euro less than my C43 but depreciation, MPG, and tires would very quickly cover that gap. Had it not been a shared car with my wife I would easily have been swayed but 4wd and comfort alone were enough to put me in the C43.

I found a used (20K mile) C43 AMG Wagon basically fully loaded in brilliantblau Metallic with a Kristallgrau/Schwarz (blue with very light grey interior) for 47K euro. The car has essentially every option besides keyless entry. I got it for 46K euro but the dealer wouldn't budge any further on price. It's a very popular car and I'm sure he could have sold it within a week. 2 C43's had been purchased that day already!

Suspension: 3 different modes comfort, sport and sport +. In comfort it's a bit floaty. It feels as though the shock rebound isn't dialed in as it feels like you bounce around a bit more than expected. This is OK on glass smooth roads but not ideal on anything but. Sport is the sweet spot as the damping is far better controlled. Sport + feels excellent on the twisties but pretty jarring over bumps.

Engine/transmission: Eco, comfort, sport, sport+. In sport+ It launches like a caged animal from a standstill until about 80 MPH. Gear shifts are quite quick (for a non dual clutch) and the exhaust makes one hell of a noise. Sport+ means it'll hold gears all day and MPG suffers immensely. The insane gunfire burble that comes from rolling off the throttle on the highway is just icing on the cake. With the sport exhausts valves open it just screams. I love the v8 burble of the 63 but the 43 is more of a violent high pitched shriek at WOT. I have timed 0-62 launches at 4.9 seconds but I had about 80 lbs. worth of shopping in the back and a full tank of gas. Switch to comfort mode and it's just a very quick C-class. Gear shifts are a bit slower and quicker to upshift but very nice. Eco mode isn't great, it's very slow to upshift and hesitates too much around town for me to be comfortable. Sport is again the sweet spot as it'll hold gears and is always ready but far more tame and MPG conscience than sport+. Past 80-90 MPH the power seems to trail off significantly though. It's still fast up to 150 MPH but it feels like it's tuned far more for 0-62 times and lower speed highway passing than for absolute top speed runs. It will comfortably sit at 140 MPH all day though so it is more than enough for all but the Midnight Club guys. This is where a C63 is a better bet. The C63 just never stops pulling until 155. I get about 25 avg. MPG but if I'm paying attention it will do 30 MPG but not easily. The worst I got was the drive home. Sustained 130 MPH+ on Sport+ over 45 minutes meant 13 MPG! They told me it is limited to 155 but I measured 162 MPH before the electronic nannies kicked in and slowed me back down comfortably (No brick wall feeling). Past 145 (Approx.) the steering goes a little light and minor imperfections upset the car quite a bit. The C63 doesn't have this and feels level and safe well beyond 145.

Interior: It's a standard C-Class really. Very comfortable for a long haul and tons of room in the back. The 360 camera is amazing and makes my awkward driveway a cinch. I am 6'1 and I can sit behind myself with adequate head room even with the optional double sunroof. The grey interior is a bit meh as it's constantly dirty but when it's clean it looks amazing. Rear facing child seats are easy to get in as the doors open basically 90 degrees and headroom is excellent in the wagon. The trunk is big for the size of car and very well laid out with little cubbies in the back for small loose items. The Burmeister sound system IS worth it with certain caveats. If you're a bass junkie you'll be let down immensely as bass is pretty weak and sub bass is non existent. Clarity is very good and as a minor audiophile I am more than satisfied with it. The base system is horrendous though. There's just nothing it does well and you also get less sound insulation so highway driving can get loud. I have the optional seat coolers which I had never even seen on a C class before and they work decently well at keeping me cool on hotter days. The interior is extremely well screwed together (This isn't the case on US C-classes for what I've seen). Not a single rattle or loose thing to be felt anywhere. We also chose one that did not have that god awful black plastic center piece. Do not get that one whatever you do as it's ugly and cheap looking. We have the white Carbon fiber looking one and it's pretty nice. It looks metallic on first glance but on closer inspection has a subtle (fake) CF weave to it. Pretty OK looking for me.

Exterior: I really like how subtle it is. It's totally debadged except for the front fenders (biturbo 4matic) logos and I'm debating removing those as well. You would have to have a very keen eye to notice the exhaust or brakes as a giveaway this isn't just a ho hum C200. I really like having a bit of a "sleeper" as I have gotten quite a few confused looks when I pull away. The C63 is wild in comparison. I usually wouldn't give a second look to a C43 or think it is anything special. If you're after a head turner spring for the 63! Everyone loves the color too as it's quite rare and I always find myself stopping to take a look at it as I walk away!

Overall the car is perfect for us. My wife loves how comfortable it is and I love how stupid it can be. People love hating on the 43 for not being a "real AMG" and I have to admit that before I bought one I agreed with the naysayers but after about 20 minutes I will absolutely say it's more AMG than sporty Mercedes. If you're thinking of one test drive it back to back with the C63 and I think you'll realize the 63 really only shows its advantages well beyond legal speeds in most countries. The C43 is just more sensible all around and if you don't mind not having the baddest mofo on the block it's an amazing car.

If you guys have questions I'd be more than happy to answer.

[eddiejpoplar]

First Drive: 2019 Chevrolet Corvette ZR1

BRASELTON, Georgia — The first time Teddy Roosevelt’s words—you know, “Speak softly and carry a big stick”—came into my head as I reviewed a car was after driving a 2009 Chevrolet Corvette ZR1. Jump ahead 10 years and I stand perusing a shiny new 2019 Corvette ZR1. I had just ripped this particular example around the awesome Road Atlanta racetrack in Braselton, Georgia. I smirked as I thought to myself, “Speak rudely and wield a really fat club” might be more appropriate for this new force of engineering passion.

Engineering passion? Yes, for real. I noticed the faces of the numerous Chevy engineers on pit lane as each journalist exited a ZR1 after taking their first blasts around the track. The engineers hung on every syllable uttered, noting every gesticulation and throwing a satisfied smile at every “holy $&#*!!” They looked a bit like a group of dads pushing their noses up to a delivery room observation window: proud fathers, every one.

Not content with the kidney-flattening supercharged LT4 engine that kicks out 650 hp and 650 lb-ft of torque in the Corvette Z06, the new ZR1 has a super-supercharged LT5 V-8 spitting 755 hp @ 6,300 rpm and 715 lb-ft @ 4,400 rpm. You don’t need your kidneys, anyway. Certified top speed is 212.49 mph, which came from a two-way average (215 mph/210 mph). Chevy informed us the ZR1 is “restricted” to a top speed of 215 mph to be within tire-safety standards. So, let’s recap: “Restricted to 215 mph,” base price of $119,995.00 for the coupe (actually $122,095 when you add the $2,100 gas guzzler tax) and $126,095 for the convertible, and it’s a “street” car. I’m now thinking: “Big fat club, with bells on.”

You probably have read hyperbole, and then some, about road cars that sound unreal. In this case, though, I really have never heard a production car sound this much like a race car in both tone and volume. It is bonkers loud on full “rude” mode. Some Jaguars can compete on the loud scale but I think the ZR1 has them beat. There is some engineering trickery in one of the mufflers, featuring a spring-loaded valve that burps open or stays closed based on driving style. Bring your earplugs, Mildred.

Chevrolet says the ZR1 (with the $1,725 eight-speed automatic transmission) runs from 0-60 mph in 2.85 seconds and from 0-100 mph in just 6.0 seconds. Launching the ZR1 from a standstill is not easy; you have to keep wheelspin at bay all the way to 60, which doesn’t do much to help the time. I’m interested to know how much time it needs to accelerate from 60-160 mph, as I think very few cars, regardless of price, would keep up with the ZR1.

If you have this much power, you better have strong brakes to slow down the ZR1’s 3,600 pounds. Despite temperatures hitting almost 90 degrees on the day we tested at Road Atlanta, I saw more than 168 mph heading down the circuit’s serpentine back straight heading into the 45 mph turn 10a. The braking area into 10a is downhill and bumpy, but let me back up a few hundred yards: The ZR1 screamed at full rip at around 145 mph, still accelerating hard as I followed the bend to the right and flew over the hill that leads down to the brake point for 10a. I have driven many race cars which were far less stable going through this flat-out bend and cresting the hill. This was both impressive and confidence inspiring.

So, I see 168 mph, shut my eyes and think of a quiet safe place. No, I didn’t. I progressively pressed the stop pedal hard and the ZR1 dutifully spit my eyes balls out of my head. I recently tested a very capable GT4 race car at Road Atlanta and was very impressed with its brakes; the ZR1 was equally impressive. The tires, aerodynamic downforce, and all-new Brembo carbon-ceramic stoppers combined for more than 1.7 g’s of deceleration (serious race-car good). As I mentioned, stability in this bumpy brake zone was also excellent. I made a mental note not to use the brakes this hard with a cement truck behind me out on public roads.

I tried both the automatic and manual versions of the car. If I’m buying the ZR1 to track, there is zero doubt in my mind I would buy the automatic. This car pulls serious g loads in both longitudinal and lateral aspects. I only weigh about 155 pounds and found myself moving around a bit too much in the seats while doing my maximum attack, despite using the seatbelt-locking mechanism. To be sure I didn’t mess up, I took a little extra time making a shift in the manual while trail-braking or cornering. I was much more comfortable lapping hard in the automatic, as I could always keep two hands on the wheel. I had no issues at all with the seats holding me solid with normal or spirited street driving.

The tires on the new ZR1 are the same make and size found on the Z06: Michelin Pilot Sport Cup 2s; 285/30 R-19 up front and 335/25 R-20 rear. The ZR1 does have a half-inch wider front rim size compared to the Z06, which apparently helps the ZR1 front-end work better when combined with the 60-percent increase in overall downforce. The downforce improvement (the car produces a total of 950 pounds at top speed with the $2,995 ZTK/high-wing option) also came with no increase in drag versus the Z06, Chevy says; a nice trick if you can do it.

However, the ZR1 is not a “downforce car,” as it still relies mostly on mechanical grip. However, the amount of downforce it does have makes it very stable while cornering at speeds sometimes 10 mph faster than would be possible without the downforce. The faster you go in the ZR1, the higher the speed differential becomes at corner apex. For instance, turn 10a (45 mph minimum speed) feels no different in the ZR1 than it does in a Corvette Grand Sport, as it’s a mechanical-grip corner. But you can take the much faster turn 12 maybe 8-10 mph faster in the ZR1 (128 mph) compared to the Grand Sport. Fun stuff.

Three and a half years ago I was also at Road Atlanta for the launch of the Corvette Z06. On that occasion I managed to run a 1-minute, 29.8-second lap and was looking forward to see by how much I could improve on that with the new ZR1. Upon arrival at the track, I was a bit disappointed to hear from the engineers the circuit was running 2-3 seconds slower than it had been, due to temperatures being almost 40 degrees hotter than they had been earlier in the week, making for an extremely greasy track. This is not unusual; many times, we qualify for a race with a really fast time on a cool day and then see lap times 3-4 seconds slower if race day is significantly hotter. It was about 3 p.m. by the time I got a chance to drive a ZR1 with some new tires. Despite the greasy track and almost 90-degree air temperature, I did manage to run almost a second faster in the ZR1 than I had in the Z06, without really pushing hard.

I was grabbing water in the pit lane when I remembered the reports made by some Z06 buyers who said they were disappointed with overheating issues at track days. Well, considering the day’s heat, I asked the engineers if I could possibly do a long run in the ZR1, just to see how things would go. Corvette chief engineer Tadge Juechter gave me the green light and pointed me to a ZR1 with an automatic transmission.

Note: This ZR1 has received all kinds of new engineering developments that separate it from the Z06 and help provide more cooling. There are several additional radiators and intercoolers up front, five to be precise. Plus, a “Halo Hood” that pops through the regular carbon hood to accommodate the taller LT5 engine and help to extract hot under-hood air. Air ducting through the nose was also addressed to add downforce plus more efficiently direct airflow to intercoolers and brakes. The ZR1 now has a true front underwing as opposed to a flat-bottom front panel. This extra downforce is enough to counteract what was lost by the addition of the extra cooling hardware. The underwing also helps direct air to more areas that need it. All of these changes helped the engineers feel confident enough to let me try the long run on such a hot day.

I decided to run a fast race pace for 20-25 minutes, do a cool down lap, and come in. I felt that was about right in terms of what a track-day group would usually do. I did not have new tires for this run. The run laps ended up being between 1:30.4 and 1:31.7. These are very respectable, consistent, and quick lap times for a street car at Road Atlanta considering the hot conditions. Lap time drop-off is usually due to tires gaining air pressure and surface temperature. Any extra lateral tire slip later in my run was controlled easily by slowing my steering inputs and throttle application, and the ZR1 never got nervous or twitchy. I saw no warning lights and engine temps remained in the normal range throughout the run.

Road Atlanta can be hard on brakes, especially at the end of the back straight when braking downhill from 160-something mph to less than 50 mph. The Brembo brake engineer present told me they had seen brake temperatures as high as 1,400-degrees during the week, and I didn’t doubt it. But I had no brake issues at all during my long run. I could tell they were hot and I did need to use a little more pressure in a couple of brake zones late in my stint, but the car still managed to keep the same brake points as when I began.

One more important point: The Chevy engineers understand very well how quickly things can go pear-shaped when you’re dealing with 755 hp and 715 lb-ft of torque. Traction control and stability control have become superb these days and certainly catch many drivers’ ham-fisted throttle, braking, and steering misdeeds. However, the ZR1 also has an electronic throttle delivery tuned to deliver less immediate gobs of torque during the beginnings of throttle travel. Plus, the total throttle-pedal travel feels a little longer. I think the changes work well. I was comfortably able to control my throttle inputs during corner-exit power application, managing to tickle the TC instead of slamming into it, which kept momentum going nicely.

Indeed, a place like Road Atlanta is the only appropriate venue to experience the new ZR1’s heady limits. I am a big fan of vehicles that put a smile on my face and the ZR1 certainly overflows that box. The first time an owner experiences the brutal shove in the back a ZR1 can dish out, I pretty much guarantee they’ll think they got a bargain. Roosevelt would be blown away.

2019 Chevrolet Corvette ZR1 Specifications

ON SALE Now PRICE $122,095 (base) ENGINE 6.2L supercharged OHV 16-valve V-8/755 hp @ 6,300 rpm, 715 lb-ft @ 4,400 rpm TRANSMISSION 7-speed manual, 8-speed automatic LAYOUT 2-door, 2-passenger, front-engine, RWD coupe EPA MILEAGE 15/22 mpg (city/hwy) L x W x H 179.8 x 77.4 x 48.5 in WHEELBASE 106.7 in WEIGHT 3,506 lb 0-60 MPH 2.85 sec (auto) TOP SPEED 215 mph

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