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reddrobins · 4 years

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of coffee cups + criminals - four [j.todd]

TW: blood, language, gore(?)

ONE - TWO - THREE

How long they had been driving was beyond [Y/N]. After an awfully hostile awakening, courtesy of Black Mask, the trade off had been initiated. One of the Mask’s men had gone behind her, tying a blindfold tight on her - already sore - eyes. From there, what happened was a mystery to her.

There was a bunch of movement, yet never her leaving the chair. They had carried her restrained form onto - what she could only assume to be - a truck. Placing her down, not gently at all, a loud bang sounded and darkness enclosed the smaller space.

This, [Y/N] felt, was worse than anything she had persisted through thus far.

Being punched? Not optimal, but fine.

Restrained? Okay.

Left alone in an unknown dark and dank container - not her favourite choice.

It was more so the fact that she was now aware of who would be accompanying her in said truck that instilled the terror in [Y/N]. He had been uncharacteristically silent since his appearance. Not a single laugh or chuckle or anything. That was what scared her most. It was like entering the uncanny valley, a land with silent Jokers, quiet clowns, everything the prince of Gotham was not.

Feeling her anxieties start to get the better of her, [Y/N] steadied her breathing - centering herself. If there was anything she had learned from her time with Jason, it was to remain calm in Gotham. Take everything as it's thrown at you, don't let your consciousness morph it into fear. Stay Calm.

Though her brain was yelling at her to scream, shout, do anything to alert help, [Y/N] knew that it would most definitely gain the attention of those only wanting to hurt. Crossing that off of her mental escape checklist, she tried to upperhand the blindfold. Wiggling her ears, she felt the cloth give a bit. Seemingly not as tight as it had felt, [Y/N] began to furiously shake her head, doing her best to loosen it completely.

As if a higher power answered her prayer, the right side of the blindfold slipped down, allowing her to peak out that eye. Scrunching her nose, she then maneuvered the left side to fall as well, both eyes now at her disposal. Though, evidently, removing the blindfold was not much help as the area around her was still as dark as can be.

Turning her neck as far as possible, she scanned her surroundings - trying to grasp onto any detail that could aid her in her escape. In the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of silver. Using all of her might to shuffle the chair she sat in, [Y/N] got closer to the object.

It was attached to the wall, a small metal lever - one that normally was used to open a moving truck. So she had been right, though the confirmation of her thoughts did little to help her out of her situation.

If she could just grasp the bar, she may be able to open the trailer - grantering her freedom.

Once more scooting her chair towards the lever, she leaned forward, lifting her tied arms upward. One of her fingers made contact with the cool metal, not close enough to grab it yet. She bumped back once more, successfully getting a hold of the bar.

Then it seemed that all hell broke loose. A series of loud bangs and rattles echoed throughout the metal box. The floor shook, little scraps jingling about. The chair [Y/N] sat in bounced as well, moving along the rattling ground. The bar slipped out of her hold the further the chair gilded. That was until she was suddenly rammed back into the wall, the truck all but rolling onto its side.

She now layed sideways, the wall now acting as the floor. A warm substance had gathered on the side of her arm, when she was thrown against the lever, it had cut her forearm. That's not all it had cut though.

[Y/N] felt a newfound freedom in her joints, the lever had sliced through the rope holding her hands hostage. So she may have been bleeding, but now she could escape.

Cheek pressed against the cold floor, she wiggled her arms up and down, gliding the rope off of her wrists. Successfully untangling herself, [Y/N] pushed herself back into a sitting position, beginning to untie her legs.

A slam sounded from the front of the carrier, freezing [Y/N] in her place. Whomever had been driving now was out of the truck - there was no way of telling how much time she had left alone… that is, if she was in the first place.

Blocking the horrid thought from her mind, [Y/N] went back to untying the bonds, freeing her legs from the chair. She placed her hand down onto the floor to steady herself, but quicking retracted it, her fingertips now lightly coated in blood.

Covering her cut with the opposite arm, [Y/N] felt around for the latch. Finally, she felt the circular shape of the metal and pulled up as hard as she could manage with one arm.

It wouldn't budge.

Though [Y/N] never considered herself as weak, she knew that this was a two handed job. Pushing through the sting of the injury - she used both arms to move the lever - this time it reacted.

Light seeped in slowly as the door opened, each stream of sun bringing a sense of safety into the small compartment. The gleam was harsh compared to the darkness [Y/N] had grown used to, forcing her to lift her hand over her eyes, blocking the direct rays.

The exit slid to completion, the click alerting [Y/N] it was done - that she was free now.

Uncovering her eyes, she slowly blinked, trying to adjust to the daylight. Vision blurry, she squeezed her eyes shut then squinted them, in an attempt to make out her surroundings.

Once her vision settled, a low hiss of “oh fuck.” came out of her mouth.

Standing in front of the open truck, a sick smile plastered onto his face, Joker waved.

His laugh vibrated around the interior of the metal box, “Wow!” He started, “Quite a show you’ve put on my dear!” Joker clapped his hands, “I didn't take you for a modern Houdini, but brava!” His mock applause continued as [Y/N] stared in awe at the man before her.

She had only ever seen the Joker in full on the TV or her phone. Being before him without a screen of separation was the most terrifying experience [Y/N] had ever had. If she really were a magician, she would have loved to put on a disappearing act.

“Well! Since you’ve so nicely done half the work for me,” The clown now entered the truck, [Y/N] instinctively backing away. He outstretched his hand, “Come along now!” His voice was sing-songlike, horrid and shrill, “Time to get a move on.” Turning in on himself, he muttered, “As I don't think our chauffeur can drive on any longer…” The sentence was followed by his signature haunting laugh.

The Joker shook his hand, presenting an air of urgency. [Y/N], fear stapling her to the floor, hadn't moved a muscle - not that she would have accepted his hand otherwise.

Annoyed, the clown rolled his eyes, “Oh come on now. I haven't killed you yet, have I?” He phrased it as a joke, going into a set of hysterics afterward. Then just like that, his straight face was back - as if the episode hadn't happened. Thrusting his hand forward, he wrapped his icy fingers around her arm, pulling [Y/N] out of the truck.

The grip was not as rough as Sionis’ had been, but [Y/N] let out a wince - pain firing through her. Joker had grabbed her bleeding arm, white hands now wet with crimson. Letting out a laugh he lifted his hand up, inspecting the blood. A sadistic smile etched across his face, he spoke, “Looks like you’ve done more than half the work! Shame, no audience to see it.” He sighed, “Poor stagecraft on your part.”

Glancing back down at his hand, he shrugged - “Well, can't waste fresh product now, can we?”

She had yet to utter a single word. At this point she was surprised she was still alive. A finger against her face brought [Y/N] out of her semi-shock. She looked down, the acid stained digit tracing a gory smile across her face.

As Joker wiped his hands together, spreading the residue onto the other - [Y/N] shakily reached up to touch her face. Her unsteady hand made contact with her cheek, feeling her own blood painted on her skin.

Until this point, [Y/N] had felt as though she had been handling the situation pretty well. But now as she stood in the middle of a concrete lot, in who knows where, with none other than the Joker as company, [Y/N] felt like the world was caving in.

Pulling her hand off of her cheek, a sob escaped out of her - the blood on her fingers a final confirmation that this was not a dream. That she wouldn't wake up next to Jason, that she wasn't in some alternate reality - no, it confirmed her fears. She was awake, she was alive and most terrifyingly she was conscious. This wasn't some wack fantasy her brain had made, rather it was life, her life specifically - and she had no control over it.

“Oh no! Oh no no no.” Joker tsked, furiously shaking his head, “We can't have you crying now! I haven't even had the curtain call!” He rushed towards her, hands outward - immediately going to rub at her eyes. A mix of salt and iron smeared over her face, the blood and tears seeping into her pores. His attempt to stop her from crying failed, the physical touch only pulling more sobs out.

The Joker, in an outburst of annoyance, gripped at his viridescent hair, “I was going to wait until he arrived, but if you insist.” Once more grasping her arm, he dragged her towards a decrepit building. He dragged her past the front of the truck, which now she could see had clearly flipped over. The front of the vehicle was the worst, so much so - [Y/N] almost fainted.

There was blood everywhere, spilling out of the window onto the pavement, splattered against the seat, anywhere there could be blood - there was. It was easy to deduce who it came from. The driver, or rather what was left of him, was clearly dead… and worse - dismembered.

A sharp pull took her attention away, the Joker not waiting to spare his last victim a glance. Offhandedly he spoke, “Least good old uncle Joker could do. Couldn't have a pure soul like him going back to work for Romie, just didn't feel right.”

Trying still to ease her nerves - solely for the sake of her sanity - [Y/N] centered her attention to their new surroundings. He had led her into the building, the disrepair showing the buildings age. After the Falcone family had dispersed Carmines extra funds, the GCPD had gentrified a bit of Gotham in an attempt to get them on the map again. The majority of central Gotham now was pretty decent, so [Y/N] knew that she had been dragged to the edges of the city. Maybe even the Bowery…

Their steps echoed throughout the room, broken linoleum tiles reverberating with each click of the Joker's shoes. Light peaked into the halls through boarded up windows, the wood rotted and creaking with each blow of wind. In short, the building was straight out of a nightmare. It was exactly like how [Y/N] had imagined all of Gotham to be, prior to moving there. The only thing truly out of place in the dated building was in the back.

A large makeshift stage had been poorly put together, different materials and nails clashing against one another. A homemade stage curtain accompanied it, also sewed together with multiple fabrics - some plaid, some polka dotted and eerily enough, most stained with a rusty colored substance.

[Y/N] knew he was a maniac, but had failed to truly grasp the sanity - or lack thereof - of the clown before her. This was nothing more than a show to him. What she presumed to be her death, was nothing but stagecraft. The last act of a Shakespearean tragedy, though it seems that there would be no knight in shining armour for this damsel in distress.

On centre stage, there sat a single seat. The set dressings bland, but speaking volumes to the audience in the room. The Joker already knew how this act would end, [Y/N] however, was left guessing, theorizing her role in the show. Would she take the crown and come out a stronger person? Or would her character simply be a pawn in the long game of life, a death with little influence.

In the midst of her melancholic monologue, the Joker had ushered her up onto the platform - his grin growing larger and larger every step she took. She was in a trance-like state, her subconscious tuning out as a protective measure for what was about to ensue. Shoving her shoulders, [Y/N] was forced onto the chair - now able to see the ‘theatre’ in full. There were rows of crates and boxes, all placed together to mimic a real auditorium. It was almost as if The Joker expected this performance to get a full house.

The clown then went off stage right, leaving [Y/N] on her own. He hadn't tied her down, but he knew she wasn't going anywhere and deep down, [Y/N] knew he was right. She was far too scared, too shocked to even think about running. Not to mention the gash on her arm, nor the amount of blood lost so far.

A squeak of wheels alerted her that the rogue was back, and this time not empty handed. The stage now hosted a horrifying bright purple cart, the wheels rusted but vibrant nonetheless. The colour was not the scary part however. On each shelf of the metal rack were several different objects, ranging from a ‘can of worms’ to a meat cleaver.

As [Y/N] eyed the cart, the Joker walked down stage, arms outstretched in a greeting. “Good evening all!” He yelled into the empty theatre. “Boy, do I have a show for you tonight! Meet our special guest Miss. LN herself!” Doing a stage turn, he gestured to her, “And look folks, she even got all dolled up for us! Isn't that just darling?” A laughing fit followed after, the shrill sound bouncing around the vacant room.

Crazy as the situation was, [Y/N] couldn't help but wonder, ‘why’, still. Why her? What did this all stem from, her not knowing enough about The Red Hood? Better yet, why was Joker involved? Why was he making this a spectacle for absolutely no one? Though to question the ways of a madman seemed a little mad in itself.

The laughing ceased, the Joker heading back towards the cart. “Now, I figured since Miss. LN has been such a lovely guest, coming out here to grace us with her presence - we should give her thanks.” He then turned to [Y/N], a wicked smile stretched across his white face, “And what better way to say ‘Thank You’, than a little game?”

“Lights!” The Joker yelled, a series of clicks and flickers following. A myriad of colorful lights filled the room, some stage lights, some bedside lamps and others random bulbs all connected into an awful collage.

‘WHEEL OF DEMISE’ was spelled out with lights, the sign hanging precariously on the back wall.

“That's right all!” The Joker announced as he made his way backstage again, “I’m rehashing my ‘Wheel of Demise’ - just for good old [Y/N] over here.”

He came back onstage, a gigantic purple and green spinning wheel rolling on the floor behind him.

“If you’re not familiar with this treat, Miss. LN will spin the wheel and let it decide her gift!” Joker faced the wheel towards her, egging her on to spin it. [Y/N] remained frozen.

Sighing, he spoke to the ghosts in the house, “It seems as though our talent has gotten stage fright. Not to worry, Mr. J is happy to spin it himself!”

A sickeningly white hand theatrically grasped the dial, giving the wheel a whirl. [Y/N] held her breath as she watched the choices tick by.

PINWHEEL PERRIL.

SILLY STRING SNUFFING.

BALLOON BEATDOWN.

ASPHYXIATION.

FACE PAINT FATALITY.

The spinning stopped. The arrow, pointed at a bright green box, the purple letters read: TICKLE TERMINATION.

She released her breath, though at the hands of the Joker, surly tickling wasn't that bad.

The clown prince frowned, this was not what he wanted. Deciding his audience would get bored by such a bland show, he prefaced, “Well seeing as [Y/N] is the guest, it wouldn't be fair for me to choose. Think of that as a ‘test run’ if you will.” Facing her, he smirked - voice threatening, “Give it a spin, it's not nice to keep the audience waiting.”

Accepting that she wasn't getting out of here alive anyway, [Y/N] leaned forward, reaching a shaky hand out and spun the wheel.

It went around and around and around, her getting dizzy at the clashing colors mixing in her vision. Finally, it slowed down and [Y/N] almost let out a cry of happiness, the wheel was going to stop on TICKLE TERMINATION again.

Joker had caught the small glimmer of hope in her eye, and being the saint he was, diminished it as soon as possible. He would hate for false possibilities to form in her mind. So with a slight motion of his hand, he grasped onto one of the wheels pegs, bridging the spinning to a shortstop.

Both of the stage presences looked at the wheel, though their reactions were poles apart. [Y/N]’s the face of tragedy whilst Joker’s the face of comedy.

‘BLADE BEREAVEMENT’

“Well, well, well! It seems as though [Y/N] has chosen wonderfully! I know this is always a favourite amongst the house!” He laughed, wheeling the cart towards him. “Now the only question is, which one will be the lucky tool tonight?”

His pasty hand glided over the assortment of sharp metals, a facade of thought on his face. “Shall it be this one?” He lifted a small surgical blade, the hardware glimmering against the harsh lights. The Joker's expression showed the audience's distaste of the item, he placed it back. “How about… This one!” A larger kitchen knife was in his grip, the edges serrated and sharp.

As he continued to mime a conversation, [Y/N] was trying to stay awake. Whether it was from the blood loss or just the constant reminder of death on her shoulder - her body wanted nothing more than to shut down. She continued to remind herself why she needed to be awake. [Y/N] thought of escaping, of getting out alive, of seeing the coffee shop again, of seeing Jason again… Jason.

God, throughout all of this craziness she never thought about how he must be feeling. He's probably at the GCPD right now, reporting her disappearance. Fuck. She was going to die and Jason would never really know why, he would just see the reports of another one of Joker's sorry victims.

A loud crash broke [Y/N] from her thoughts. Initially, she thought it was the cart, maybe Joker had knocked it over. But upon looking up, she realised that he had heard it too. The clown narrowed his eyes, looking around the spacious room for a sign of the intruder.

“It’s over fuck-face.” the voice had sounded from above them, “Let her go and maybe I won't kill you slowly.”

As her confusion grew, the malicious smile she had gotten used to formed itself on Joker's face once more. “Oh ho ho ho! Lookie here audience, it seems like our final guest of honor has arrived!” He clapped his hands together, eyes still glued above them in search of the person.

A stray can rolled onto the stage, smoke pooling out of it, stinging [Y/N]’s eyes. She coughed and covered her face, then a lightbulb went off. The smoke. Joker can't see!

[Y/N] stood from the chair, ducking low to the ground trying to feel her way around the stage.

“We can't have the talent leave! I hadn't called you off stage yet!” His cry took [Y/N] by surprise, as did the grip that came with it. A white claw was now locked around her throat, partnering to the cold barrel that was pressed against her temple.

“Ever the dramatist you are Hoodie! Just like your father… And I’m not talking about Batsy!” Another clang sounded from the audience, the mystery guest had decided to show themself.

The first thing [Y/N] saw was the glimmer of crimson. Even through the smoke she could make out its blood-red color, the cool metal of the helmet reflecting the lights.

“Ah, finally.” The Joker spoke, “You’re just in time for the show. Why don't you take a seat, Jason Todd?”

#Jason Todd #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #red hood #red hood x reader #robin x reader #batfamily #batman x reader #batfamily imagine #batman imagine #batman #dc comics imagine #dc comics #dc x reader

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i-fear-most-things · 3 years

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Horror and Location

As someone who’s spent the majority of their life living in an isolated house which creaks at night, I can vouch that often scenery means everything in a horror story. I’m often pressured into sprinting upstairs in the dead of night simply from just standing in the middle of my unlit hallway with my back to the double-doors leading into the lounge. Inadvertently, the architect who designed the house did a good job of making a horror setting.

Architecture plays a role in horror a lot, ranging from the towering spires we associate with an ominous gothic castle, to the unease you may feel opening a creaky door into an old cottage. But why do these things give us chills, when many people are perfectly happy walking around modern houses or mansions? Put simply, the answer is age. As stated by Frank McAndrew “Stimuli such as mouldy odors, antiquated Victorian or Gothic architecture, wood interiors, and old portraits on the wall reinforce an ambience of great age. Assuming that the house is no longer occupied, signs of life suddenly interrupted or frozen in time only amplify the fear factor.”(1) The idea McAndrew provides of an uninhabited house, in addition to an old one, advances the idea of the architecture being a key element to horror. The key difference between a plain old house and a ‘haunted’ one is whether the house itself has advanced into the present day or whether it’s been left behind, or even preserved. Anthony Vidler discusses this, saying “In Jersey or Guernsey, that in the countryside, or even in the town, when passing through some deserted spot or a street filled with people, you will see a house with a barricaded entrance;”(2) he continues on to describe such a building as ‘dead’ from its abandonment “Such a house, killed by its very emptiness, and by the superstitions that have built up in the region.”(3), this same description of a house which is ‘dead’ can be applied to many houses which are considered scary. A dead house can be summed up as one which no longer holds life in its walls, and is essentially a husk of the home which once housed many families. Because of this, the husk will never be comparable to a house of the same age which is still ‘alive’, and will carry with it a feeling comparable to seeing a graveyard, no matter where it is situated.

Another factor which makes a house scary, one which I find to apply to me in my own home, is the feeling of being alone in the building. Francais T. McAndrew explains this phenomena as hypervigilance, “Things that activate hypervigilance for malevolent forces (whether natural or supernatural) abound in large, drafty old houses: rattling or creaking sounds in upstairs rooms… it is very easy to imagine that one is not really alone in such a place.”(4), it is not farfetched to imagine becoming hypersensitive to any stimuli in a place we aren’t expecting it in, or worse, shouldn’t have any at all, moreso if the location you’re in is an abandoned house which hasn’t supported life for a long period of time. The fear we feel from being alone isn’t just due to our senses, however. The need for fear in such situations is innate, as Frank McAndrew describes, “If you’re walking through the woods alone at night and hear the sound of something… you’ll behave as if there is a willful “agent” present who is about to do you harm… if you fail to activate the alarm response and a true threat is present—well, the cost of your miscalculation could be very high.”(5) In these terms, our fear response to being alone in such places is hardly irrational, in fact it would be a useful - although annoying - survival tactic designed to help us survive potentially life-threatening situations.

So what can I take away from all this? Although being alone in my old isolated house scares me out of my wits, it’s only my brain trying to save my life.

(1) 2/9/2015. What Makes a House Feel Haunted. Accessed 10/3/2021. https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/out-the-ooze/201511/what-makes-house-feel-haunted

(2) Vidler, Anthony. "The Architecture of the Uncanny: The Unhomely Houses of the Romantic Sublime." Assemblage, no. 3 (1987): 7-29. Accessed March 11, 2021. https://www.jstor.org/stable/3171062. Page 3

(3) Op. Cit. n 2

(4) 7/10/2019. The Psychology, Geography, and Architecture of Horror: How Places Creep Us Out. Accessed 10/3/2021. https://www.academicstudiespress.com/asp-blog/how-places-creep-us-out

(5) Op. Cit. n 1

#horror #assignment #CW2224 #1905202

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akiwisfics · 4 years

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In the Middle Chapter 7

Notes: Not technically cross-posted anymore, but two chapters already written. If people get annoyed by this, please savior “kiwi crossposts” to save your eyes.

Description: The war's over, but the mess is still left behind. Kasumi finds herself among the wreckage with unexpected companions and questions that seem almost impossible to answer for. Life keeps moving forward, however, and the surprises it leaves behind aren't always pleasant ones.

Pairings: KasumixSha’ira

“Ms. Maeda, come out please.”

The major was using her alias. That was a good sign. She kept her eyes closed as she listened carefully, noting that most of the steps outside the tent at the moment were whisper-quiet. Trained and unlike the cacophony that Kasumi had grown accustomed to at their camp. The STG had taken over completely at this point, then, but where were the others exactly?

Kasumi had seen no reason to report the initial incident to the STG exactly for this reason. She didn’t want them crawling over the place, rifling through things better left private. They’d done enough already, enough so that she was half-tempted to play up her injuries, appeal to their humanity as a wounded gazelle.

It was probably Sha’ira. She couldn’t blame her for her due diligence. While no doubt she knew there were more secrets to uncover, one of their group members had been killed. She was going to do her own investigation this morning, though mostly to make sure there weren’t any other trip mines in the area they needed to worry about. From there, she could likely figure out some information based on the mine alone. They were a common enough accessory in both various militaries and the terminus systems, but rarely were the models of the same caliber. Most mercenaries had to make do with whatever and whoever would be willing to deal outside of the Citadel, so they were usually handmade or modded in some fashion. Military, naturally, were usually more manufactured, less prone to misfires.

However, a really well paid mercenary could get what they want, especially if they’d been working for a long time. Not many survived in their line of work without knowing how to make their own shit.

Her alibi checked out if there was trouble, at least. Despite what verbal spat (? if it could be called that) her and the consort had the evening before, there was little denying the fact that she had been laid up from her injury, and as far as they were aware, unarmed. Rolling over just confirmed what she knew already. Sha’ira had left early that morning. Her hands still felt warm from when they touched. She admired how freely the consort gave her affection, a small gift with every passing brush and squeeze. While Kasumi affirmed what she could with what ways she could afford, she hadn’t remembered anything beyond a smile or a pat on the shoulder recently. Hugs were even foreign after Shepard’s passing.

Their conversation wasn’t really done, was it? She could admire Sha’ira’s stubborn passion if she wasn’t on the receiving end of it. Maybe it was just a common feature for people like them. It was the only reason she could think of as to why she still hadn’t stirred from her cot.

The tent flap zipped open, and Kasumi met the Major’s exasperated gaze with a placidly affable smile. “You should know better than to spoil me with all this attention,” she greeted, and decided the joke could last a little longer. “I have nothing to do with what’s going on.”

He sighed and pitched his voice lower, just in case there were any prying ears. Based on what little she heard beyond more salarians, he didn’t need to worry. “I’m well aware. Can we discuss this outside?”

“In my condition, Major?”

“The mine didn’t kill you, and it clearly didn’t leave you deaf. Outside.”

He seemed more hurried than last time. If it’d just been the turian’s death, they would’ve swung by sooner. Maybe they had. Though the recovery was quick, Kasumi had been left to her own devices for the most part yesterday. She had her visitors, but beyond a few awkward conversations, the last 24 hours had been a hazy doze-- likely thanks to whatever medigel and drugs Sal had tossed together.

Maybe she could get a change of clothes first. The t-shirt and sweatpants was even more bare compared to their last meeting. Despite a little soreness in her knees, a little bit of heaviness in her chest, it was still easy to stand. What work Sal had done did its job.

A small contingent awaited her as she finally emerged. Major Kirrahe waited just a few feet away, flanked by two members that she vaguely recognized from her run-in. The camp was deserted beyond the rest of the unit, soldiers listlessly flitting from tent to tent, though never staying for longer than a minute or so. They weren’t searching through belongings. Not yet anyway. Clearing the area then? The others were probably secured in a smaller perimeter then, maybe the building where their tower had been installed. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but the interior was gutted enough to house all of them.

Something had happened. She doubted Sha’ira would be considered among the suspects, but Kasumi realized to the STG-- she was the only one accounted for yesterday.

“Nothing in your tent was touched,” Kirrahe offered as he approached. His brow was furrowed and he looked tired, more than anything. Though salarians rarely needed to sleep for long, the major looked overdue for at least an hour or so.

“Not that we’re on the best of terms right now but--”

“One of our men went missing yesterday.”

Ah, another victim then. That narrowed the scope considerably. An average mercenary or soldier wouldn’t easily get the best of an STG member, not without some considerable knowledge of the area. However, that didn’t make much sense. Their group had been there a week, tops, and as far as she was aware, only herself and Sha’ira knew about the other camp in the old university section. “You think one of us did it?”

“... Not necessarily…” he scratched at one of his scales, a nervous habit. She would have to remember that. “We’re simply narrowing down our suspects, Ms. G-- Maeda. Your camp is the only other known party in the area.”

Not the only, but a tabloid reporter didn’t strike her as a murdering type.

“We found him dead earlier this morning. How did the turian die?”

“I never actually saw the body, so.”

Kirrahe hummed in response. “Justicar Samara has offered her expertise with interrogations, but considering you’re the least suspicious person here…”

Oh. This was a nice position. The plan right now had been just to sneak in at some point and take her mods back, but this was a much better and less risky solution to that problem. The major didn’t need her, and Kasumi wasn’t thrilled over the prospect of interrogating people that barely knew her-- people that likely had their own ideas as to why she hadn’t really socialized with anyone else. However, it beat trying to aggravate what good grace that had been left from their first encounter. “How about a deal then?”

“Absolutely not.”

“If there’s a murderer around, I’d like my pistol at least.”

His saucer eyes narrowed. “I’m sure you have another elsewhere, Ms. Maeda. The mods are staying in our possession.”

Sore loser. “You’re making it very hard to do my job, Major. I don’t mind the challenge, but can you really afford it?” She had copies back home, at worst blueprints in case she had to make any necessary repairs or replacements. However, “home” was currently Illium, and wasn’t really easy to access at the moment. She could have Urch or Tianna dig through her workroom, but that wasn’t really time that they could afford. Not with dear Kiera breathing down their necks and Urch’s own research on Khalisah.

“Based on your little save the other day, your observational skills are fine without them.” He sighed and seemed just a little bit less like a military man and more salarian. More like they hadn’t just gotten out of war, hadn’t just pulled himself out of the front lines. “I’m not asking for your help for free. Consort Sha’ira had made very specific… requests on your behalf.”

“She isn’t a suspect then?”

“While technically not cleared, she doesn’t really have means or motive. Her and Sura will likely be released shortly.”

That was nice to hear. “I guess I’ll ask her when I see her.” Clothes came first though. She wasn’t exactly intimidating in her pajamas. The soldiers by Kirrahe stiffened at first as she moved to leave, hands just a tad too secure to their guns for comfort. Right. Just because she had been cleared of one crime didn’t mean they weren’t aware of plenty others. Hopefully they had the sense not to panic the rest of her camp even further with the behavior. They weren’t really known for their panic, but there didn’t always need to be a lot of change for people to start noticing. Sometimes all they needed to see was them with a bit more unease around her than usual.

Still, Kasumi smiled in return and was relieved to see them leave her alone as she began retreating back to her actual tent.

“Ms. Maeda?”

Though she guessed they weren’t done yet. She showed nothing as she turned back, waiting for Kirrahe to continue.

“Do you have any suspects?”

Katul was a thought. He went missing first, but no one had actually mentioned if he was still alive or not. If he had returned after the one person he seemed to have tension with had died, that didn’t look good. However, nothing could shake the ghastly visage he carried and how much it resonated inside of her. She doubted little could shake him from his deep, pervasive grief. It took her months to even want her life again, much less act out against those that took Keiji. Whatever problems the two turians had, it wasn’t like revenge. They would’ve seen something happen far before this. She would’ve acted much faster than this.

Dharshan was also… strange, though she doubted her suspicions on him were anything more of shades from her own past. Though she tried desperately to not let that inhibit her work, she could count what few positive interactions she had with other batarians on one hand. The man was a source of ire recently, but that wasn’t out of any murderous intent on his part. He just couldn’t take the hint that she wanted nothing to do with him.

“If I’m honest? I don’t think it’s anyone from here,” she answered after a moment. “No one really strikes me as the serial murderer and poke the bear type.”

“Poke the bear?”

“... You know. Big, scary, and a bit silly to go after?” Maybe the bear thing was the problem? She wasn’t sure if the major was familiar with Earth biology. “Lot of the people have military experience, but none of them would be dumb enough to go after the STG is all I’m saying.”

“True. I have to ask--”

“Sha’ira and I haven’t mentioned you all were here, no. They either had to have stowed away in the shuttle without us noticing somehow, or had access to the channel like I did.”

“Right. … Thank you anyway.”

She hadn’t blamed the Major for the thought. It would be easier for it to be someone from the group. Someone that they could get today, and not be left digging in the ruins for some phantom. A phantom that was laying traps for everyone. Kasumi knew she had plenty enough to ask still, but unfortunately for them both, a phantom seemed far more likely than anything else at this point.

About all they could hope for was someone close by, and that it was just that. One.

However, Kasumi knew better, and Kirrahe did too.

Her tent was well kept, despite the knowledge that Sha’ira had been in at some point. She knew to grab the QEC, knew to bring it to her when she needed it. It hadn’t surprised her. It was the same reason that Sha’ira was one of the last to leave her tent in the mornings, but one of the first to have movement inside its confines. She didn’t know what all went into being a half-retired consort, but any job worth its credit had its fair network of associates to make it all work.

Maybe that was why it was easy for her to pick Kasumi at her seams. She learned as much as the consort gave away, and yet she couldn’t help thinking that she was just at the surface of what was there. It wasn’t an alluring darkness that drew her in, that much Kasumi was certain. She knew enough to recognize the shades of someone with blood on their hands, how they looked onto the world and regarded the value of life around them.

Like Kirrahe. She didn’t doubt that an unexpected loss of someone from his command affected him, but he made sure not to show it as he talked, as he observed the world around him. He knew enough. Knew that letting that side show meant it was a vulnerability for someone to pick at later, and maybe then another man would die under his watch.

But Sha’ira was different. Her hands had trembled when she spoke of Nelyna, even as she knew enough to try to obscure the incident from Kasumi’s questions at first. She still worried and fussed over Kasumi after her injury, even though someone as close as Shepard would’ve stayed, but she wouldn’t have--

What would she do here? The Major had known her from the war, so perhaps he would’ve approached the situation entirely different either way. She couldn’t recall meeting the man on the Crucible project, but that didn’t really mean much.

The grey-box was still safely tucked in her duffle bag. She ran her fingers against the cool metal and allowed a brief rush of comfort before she finished getting dressed. She could peer into the contents later, maybe to glean some advice from his past experiences-- ones that she hadn’t been afforded on her own.

She spotted a shadow looming over her tent from the corner of her eye and tucked the keepsake back in the confines of her clothes. It was only a second of hesitation before she took the locust instead. Kirrahe already mentioned her having another weapon on her. It shouldn’t spook him too much, and now that there was someone actually making moves against them, she sure as hell wasn’t going to go unarmed.

“Just a second!” she called out as she holstered the gun on her hip. In one fluid motion, she unzipped her tent and emerged-- and froze, half smile at the flash of red and gold in front of her. Well. Maybe should’ve gone without the gun then.

Samara regarded her with a tad more warmth than before, though it really wasn’t much. Her eyes didn’t have the glean of murderous biotics, which was comforting. She found the pistol at her side immediately. “... I see the Major was correct.” Was that relief in her voice…? “I had brought an extra pistol in case you were left without.”

“It’s an old habit.” She stepped beside her as Samara turned back to the main road and halo of buildings. Their target was in the middle, close enough to camp for anyone to pick up the signal of the comm tower from the comfort of their cot. Unless Sal spilled on her work on the Crucible project, this would probably lead to some questions. She just hoped any lies that came up before were believable enough, or so outrageous that they were easily disproven if needed.

Kasumi glanced to her companion, noting idly how quiet her steps were beside her. Her skills were as sharp as ever. “... Can I ask you something?” she chanced.

Samara regarded her with cold eyes, but still she nodded.

“What are you doing here?”

“... I could ask the same, Ms. Goto.”

That was fair. Sha’ira mentioned some grand plan that fell into place with everything, that their intentions and choices would always have meaning. If she thought more, she would know. If she was truly, deeply honest with herself. She wanted to see that red hair in the wreckage and a beating heart. She wanted to find herself again, for once building instead of taking. It wasn’t that simple. It never was. Here she stood, walking with a justicar to solve a murder. Sure, a different sort of thing, but it wasn’t the sort of closure that Sha’ira had been talking about before.

Still, the fact that Samara was talking to her was a good sign. A good chance that Samara would try to murder her by the end of it, but… Shepard still connected them all somehow.

It wouldn’t hurt to give. Just a little. “The crucible plans are gone, if it helps.”

“We had suspected, but it is good to hear confirmation from you directly.”

“Did you know it was me?”

Samara hesitated, stopping just shy of earshot from the salarians guarding the building entrance. It surprised her to see some sort of softness in the way she regarded her, nurturing and motherly. “... I had believed it, though you left no proof,” she said, voice startling serious for how she regarded Kasumi. “... My code may dictate your fate; however, I am allowed… discretion in regards to your heart. It’s rarely necessary, nor is it a train of thought a justicar should explore often. Yet…”

She hadn’t needed to say it, but it still felt nice.

“Commander Shepard trusted you. Whatever reasons you have to be who you are, there is some righteousness in how you regard the world. I am simply grateful that assessment had been correct the first time.”

It was the closest she would get to a compliment. A strange feeling settled inside her at receiving it, undeserved… or maybe just as weird for the justicar to give. Kasumi gave a taut smile in return. “That’s sweet… I think.”

“Do what you will with it. It saved your life this time. It may later.”

Ah. That feeling was gone now. What a surprise.

“We have more important matters to attend to. I would focus on that for now.”

“Right. How do you want to go about this?”

Samara hesitated. “... You are aware I’m afforded little gentleness in my work.”

And neither was Kasumi. However, she didn’t have the same weight dictating her every move. “Right. I’ll lead then… uh, if that’s fine?”

She nodded in agreement, giving away nothing as to how she actually felt about the matter. Probably for the best. They had enough of a heart to heart to last a lifetime. Samara was rarely afforded an unique voice on matters, one that wasn’t dictated by law or code. It was nice to see underneath that she seemed… almost normal. Kasumi was aware she had one daughter still, back in Thessia last she heard. It was strange that they weren’t together, but no doubt she was safe from any remaining trouble left in the galaxy. She still had something pushing her forward to each new day.

Kasumi felt a pang of jealousy at the thought, one quickly buried for later. There was little to envy from Samara. She hadn’t needed to murder Keiji. She hadn’t needed to murder any family for being monsters. There was nothing to envy of that pain no doubt buried inside. And if she was healing, allowed herself the thought? … It was good for Samara. Something that she probably never let happen before. She deserved that chance.

Then Sha’ira’s eye met hers. They must have finished their interrogation with her, just stepping out of the gutted building with a new weight of exhaustion sagging her shoulders. She remembered, albeit vaguely, that she seemed to struggle sleeping the night before. Either not adjusted to the uneven ground, or their conversation still hanging over her head. She wished there had been a better way.

Still, the smile was warm, even tinged by the lack of sleep clear in her heavy gaze. “How are you feeling?” she asked as she bounded the broken steps to where her and Samara stood.

“Better, thanks to you and Sal,” Kasumi said, just as the consort’s finger tips found her again, grazing over the bandage against her temple. She ducked her eyes out of courtesy to the attention and tried to ignore the curious eyes boring into her back.

Sha’ira remained undeterred as she pulled the bandage back, studying the healed over gash. Whatever she saw was to her satisfaction it seemed, as she peeled the bandage completely off this time and folded it neatly between her fingers. “I would have preferred you in bed longer, but I understand these are extenuating circumstances. I trust you two will clear up matters quickly.”

“What’s the next step for yourself, Consort?”

She smiled just a bit wider. “Not wise for any of us to have idle hands right now, Ms. Maeda. Come by my tent later?”

“You bet.”

Satisfied with the response, Sha’ira slipped between them, hand briefly brushing one of her shoulders as she left.

Kasumi sighed in relief, happy to know that she could put off that awkward conversation just a bit longer. Then felt those curious eyes on her again. She looked to the justicar, and noted the bemusement sent her way. “What?”

“... How long have you two known each other, exactly?”

“Does it matter?” She kept the defensive edge out of her voice. It wasn’t like Samara to be curious, and while not welcomed, it wasn’t for malicious purposes. God, she hoped not anyway.

“Simply…” Then Samara caught herself and shook her head. “No, that’s true. Let us continue then.”

“I didn’t think you were much for gossip either way.”

If she didn’t know better, she would almost say there was a blush on the justicar’s cheeks. Honestly, she appreciated signs of something beyond the stern warrior bravado she put up. Even if that figure was so morose underneath.

She let Samara lead the way into the gutted structure, following about a half step behind and naturally falling into what habits she knew and felt comfortable in. Interrogations weren’t new to her, though rarely did they involve people that already knew her in some capacity. She usually didn’t have her face out in the open either. And there wasn’t an obligation to keep those people alive afterward-- usually. Sometimes she had if the person was freaked out enough, but that was as rare as innocence in the Terminus Systems.

Ten of them total? Nine, if they disregarded the victim’s widow. No one looked surprised to see her as she crossed the threshold. There were four more salarian guards positioned around the large ruined lobby, ones that didn’t directly look at either her or Samara as they came in. The ramp leading to the roof was installed in the back, and through its make-shift stairway, she noticed another soldier casually squatted on one of the remaining pieces of stone, idly checking the sniper rifle secured in his hands. They had a skeleton crew back at their own camp then. Made sense.

Katul and Sura sat furthest from the entrance, talking quietly amongst themselves. Though the turian looked haggard, he didn’t appear injured, which made his disappearance odder in her eyes. What had he been doing to be gone so long? Sura seemed… better than yesterday. Maybe her words meant something after all, even if it barely covered everything.

Darshan was, predictably, praying by the ramp, robes trailing on the dirt and dust as he paced. She smelled a hint of rosemary in the air. Though it wasn’t typical for the few rituals that Kasumi knew of, perhaps he was making do with what resources were still around. Sal sat on his knees against the left wall, another cigarette planted between his odd litt lips. He waved as soon as he saw her, but for once didn’t seem to be in the mood to follow that up with any remarks or questions. Mostly normal then.

Elcor and Krogan on the other side. Neither of them were up for talking, it looked like, but she wasn’t sure if that was how they actually felt or a natural disposition of the species. Meeran… Maron? The pilot was absent once again. Either speaking with their benefactor or had already been cleared to leave. The volus was sat on a broken piece of concrete, short suited legs dangling over the ledge as he observed the space around them passively. Maybe Nora helped him up it. The drell appeared to be asleep next to the broken piece, using the cool concrete as a backrest as she slept.

No panic. They had been stuck inside here for a while then, but not quite long enough for anyone to start complaining. Likely the structure and how very armed their guards were kept any aggression to a minimum.

Frankly, Kasumi didn’t know enough to really exonerate them, but nothing from the dossiers she read stood out either. Military backgrounds, but so did everyone in some capacity or another at that point. They just got out of war. Near extinction. She was surprised anyone had the energy right now to go on a killing spree.

“I will let you lead,” Samara reiterated as she observed the crowd herself, just as passively. If she had any suspicions, she kept it to herself.

The only thing they could do was just… start. With any luck, Kasumi would get more answers along the way. She scanned the field of faces in front of her and chose the first name that came to mind. “Sura?”

The asari stopped her conversation short and turned her head to them, obvious relief shown in soft eyes. Kasumi only hoped that relief wouldn’t be misinformed.

There were a few theories.

The happiest would be that the murders were coincidental. Sure, that would mean that there were two separate murderers out there that Kasumi no doubt would be involved in, but separately? They wouldn’t be so competent as to make two people from two separate camps to disappear and then murder them. It would just be one-- one which may have been some crime of passion or whatever, and another competent enough to take out an STG member. Two people not working together, weren’t collaborating together and now were more likely to make sloppy mistakes.

Or they weren’t coincidental. Then… why a group anyway? It just seemed natural. A hunch, it would be called on any popular media. Really it was just recognizing the signs from personal experience. Sure, one person could’ve killed the turian Thyra then placed mines all over the place, but that was a pretty short time window from them starting to search for Katul, to finding and killing Thyra, and then placing the traps. Guy would have some pretty decent cardio.

Then the next day killing someone from the STG? Something that would give Kasumi trouble even on home turf? Just having another body somewhere facilitated every single step.

Exactly who and why were harder questions. If it was just STG targeted, she could maybe suspect another government organization, like the Alliance or one of the few surviving spectres in the galaxy. Maybe to protect what few secrets could be found in the remnants of the Crucible. However, it wasn’t just one of their members dead, and whatever secrets could be found weren’t very much and would require a shit load of resources to make. Those few organizations left also, almost certainly, had better things to do with their time than just blanket killing other groups in the area. If there were other ones here, no doubt STG had or were investigating them as well.

The other option was either mercenaries or just a couple of crazies, though they weren’t mutually exclusive categories. People like them tended to be shorter-sighted, and usually, they didn’t need a lot of resources to sell information to the highest bidder. If Liara was still alive, she might have even expressed interest in something like that. It was a thought, briefly in the haze and chaos of everything happening, to keep the plans for herself, sell them when things calmed down, and go about her merry little way. Maybe Shepard had improved her a little.

So mercenaries were her strongest theory, but it hadn’t exactly explained Thyra’s death. Their camp was stationed near derelict reaper carcasses, something that would pique Kasumi’s interest if it hadn’t reminded her of nightmares-- screaming, melting colonists, the screams of banshees ringing in her ears, the metallic taste in her mouth turning everything to ash--. Perhaps others were able to stomach looking into the jungle of wires of old gods. But she couldn’t. Not yet.

(They also weren’t close enough to the old university to be a bother, but maybe, just maybe, there was a scrap here or there near their position to grab someone’s attention. Either way, they’d need everything to know how it worked. Kasumi made sure of that.)

So it really wasn’t interrogation perse. Just… asking questions. Knocking herself out had left her without crucial information. She would go out in the night later, find the graffiti wall and the spot where Thyra died. She wouldn’t leave without more information though, and preferably not without her mods. She did have a spare cloaking unit, tucked between the pages of one of her books. If she was really that desperate--

“Um.”

Ah. Sura first, she guessed. There weren’t many spots left that would be considered private in the vicinity of the camp. Sura’s steps were expectantly careful on the plywood, practiced like a commando should be. They weren’t quiet-- commanding the building to heed to every step. In another time and place, Kasumi would imagine her head hanging just a bit higher, not lost on grieving her lover.

“I’m sorry. I was just getting my thoughts together.” Kasumi provided a bit lamely as they all stood somewhat listlessly in the open expanse of the roof. The sky was clear today, sun a bit harsh on the high point of the roof. Neither Sura or Samara seemed bothered by the heat, even though she couldn’t recall Thessia being particularly tropical-- especially when compared to the likes of the Salarian homeworld. Her stops at both planets were brief affairs.

“I know this is…” Sura half-started, then seemed to think better on her approach. “What did you do again?”

“Consulting.”

The asari looked awkwardly between them, but knew better than to question the answer given.

Kasumi scratched at the healing scar and sighed. “... I don’t think you did it for the record. You both seemed, well, happy with each other. And we talked before.”

Sura sagged at the very thought, and Kasumi was reminded how little she wanted to do this. She hadn’t even wanted the conversation yesterday, and now? Now she was expected to pick apart a story she didn’t have. What a dumb string of events.

And despite it, she mustered what voice she had and continued. “I assume you went with Thyra that day? Did you two get separated later on?”

Sura nodded. “We were just trying to cover more ground. She-- Thyra was never much for trekking. Small for a turian, you know?” She knew that look. Sura was already on that stage of ‘what if’. The very thing she warned her against. “... She promised she’d stay on the main roads. I… I guess she heard something.”

“I’m sorry,” and Kasumi truly meant it. “No one could’ve known this would happen. Just… don’t think on it too much. It just makes it worse.” Like how she could’ve stayed with him. She could’ve called off the plan. All sort of things. It didn’t, wouldn’t bring him back. “... How did she die? I was uh, out of commision before the body was actually found.”

And why did Sura look surprised by that. She didn’t say, but it was enough to get Kasumi’s mind to wander. “... She was shot. Sal suggested a sniper, I think? I’m sorry, I- I don’t really have much more than that. The shot looked clean? I’m not really--”

“It’s fine,” she wasn’t expecting her to memorize every detail. Not everyone had a morbid recollection like that. “Tell the guards you’re free to go.”

“... Thank you.”

Samara hummed behind her, just as she had bid Sura on her way. “... I am surprised,” she noted, though her tone indicated nothing on that actual feeling. “I would expect you to be much harder on your associates.”

“If I thought she had more to say, I would’ve asked. You said it yourself. I’m not heartless.”

“What brought you on the Normandy to start with, if I may ask?”

That was… fair. Kasumi knew her story, even if Samara didn’t know that she knew. Maybe she had. While she wasn’t part of that initial trip into Illium, she had listened in on everything that happened on the Normandy. It kept her safe, and it kept her from being too bored when she was relegated to support. That became less so once Shepard and her had developed their odd sort of friendship, but well, it still didn’t hurt to listen.

Would it benefit Samara at all to know more than she did? … Probably not, but that didn’t mean it was worth sharing the sordid details. If anything, she was glad to hear that Shepard respected her privacy. “Cerberus offered a good deal at the time. I didn’t have a reason to stay once that was done.” Not technically a lie, but Samara could guess that there was more to the story if she really wanted.

“You don’t work for credits.”

“Presumptuous, but you’re right. Again--- does it really matter?”

“If you have personal matters that might affect your reasoning--”

“Noted, Samara. The concern is touching though.”

The small hiss of breath on her end was interesting, but Samara didn’t press further.

---

Sal came up next, though that wasn’t who she asked for. He was smart enough to put out the cigarette in the lobby and left his smile there too. If anything, he just seemed annoyed about the whole situation. Kasumi could understand it on some level; he likely knew some of the people currently holding him there. It probably didn’t feel great to be under their scrutiny for once.

His steps were quick up the roof, not subtle at all and lacking the grace she would expect from someone in his rank. Maybe he had been forced into the Crucible project early, and hadn’t been on the front lines in some time. Either way, he bursted through the door to the roof and was immediately on her, grabbing her arms and lifting her jacket up.

“Hey!” Kasumi called out and tried to push her jacket down through his grabbiness. Sal was undeterred as he snatched one of her wrists, twisting it out of the way.

“I can’t believe you just walked out of that tent without clearance first! You’re my patient first of all and--”

The warp immediately knocked him off his feet. He crashed onto the hard concrete and screeched several feet away, nearly off the roof completely. He looked kind of sad crumpled like that. The only indication that he was alive after the assault was a meek and pained cough.

Samara breezed past Kasumi, the aura of biotics surrounding her frightening and sudden.

“Hold on!” she called after the justicar. The cry was ignored.

Latching onto Sal’s collar, Samara dragged the poor salarian back to the center of the roof. He was only given a moment of reprieve before being dropped back onto the ground once he was at a position that seemed satisfactory to her. “Explain. Now!” she snarled.

Sal groaned, pathetic as he curled into himself.

“... He’s a medic,” Kasumi supplied for him.

And she was fine, for the record. Sal? A quick once over from Kirrahe after, and he was sent on his way. It was little consolation at that point.

Nora came up next. The drell was a strange sticking point for everyone at that point, she assumed. Between the birds, how she often wandered alone-- and as far as she could tell, she had been just as reclusive as Kasumi herself. All things considered, she was the most suspicious person among them, but it was all the more reason she hadn’t considered her at all.

Frankly, it was too obvious an answer. What she remembered from the dossier was that she was like most drell-- she served the hanar until the war, and then went from company to company, doing what she could for the war effort. Her specialization as a sniper was a point against her, but beyond maybe a bit of post-indoctrination crazy (or something), she was about as normal as what she expected from anyone that spent most of their life fighting. Especially for folks like the hanar.

As an aside, she hadn’t heard much from the hanar since the war finished. She wasn’t sure if the insular nature of its society kept it that way, or if perhaps, enkindler proselytizing at the moment would be in… poor taste.

Nora didn’t stand out much as a drell. Her blue skin and spots were something Kasumi had seen in plenty of others, though the way her eyes constantly observed her surroundings, using the drell’s photographic memory to its full advantage, spoke of someone with experience. Compared to the previous two, she stood very nonchalantly and seemed unconcerned by the turn of events.

“It must be nice to have friends in high places,” Nora said, observing the concrete and brokenness below them.

“It’s not as cozy as it looks,” Kasumi responded in kind and sat at the edge of the building, letting her legs dangle over the asphalt. Nora plopped down beside her and it was like any other morning.

“They must like you. No chaperones… well, one chaperone, I guess.” And she blinked and twisted her body around to peer at the justicar, head tilted at an odd angle. “You must have a lot of work to do, Justicar. Lots of bad people left in the galaxy, I would imagine. Though you folks stay in asari space, don’t you? And lots of you died when...”

Whatever look Samara gave Nora shut her up pretty fast. She turned back around, huffing.

“You don’t keep good company.”

Kasumi snorted.

“Am I a suspect?”

She shrugged. “Who did you go with?”

“The batarian. He’s the only one that likes me enough. Except for you, maybe.” She tapped on the concrete space between them, and seemed to wince at the temperature underneath. “Are you familiar with drell physiolo-- no. Of course you are.” Kasumi wasn’t sure why she would think that, but plenty of time with Thane taught her enough. “It’s cold here. And wet. If I did more than I’d need to, I’d kiss my sorry ass goodbye. I’m already going to have to for coming here at all.”

That was an interesting point, actually. “Why are you here?”

“Simple. I don’t want to go back to Kahje. At this point? I’m gonna die somewhere. Might as well be at a place I like. Picking fights with STG and people just trying to live aren’t on my to do list in the meantime.”

“Do you have your rifle with you?” Samara remarked from behind them.

“Nope! Feel free to check. Make it this girl that does it though? She gets me.”

Kasumi paused. “Do you even know my name?”

Nora threw her arms up. “It’s probably fake. Mine is. Who gives that shit for free these days?”

“Izumi Maeda.” Samara practiced the words with careful fluidity, as if testing the strength when spoken out loud. Admittedly, it sounded strange coming from someone that had long known better. Like it was too thick in the justicar’s mouth, too careless and too big. It would spill over any second.

“Did Sha’ira tell you all?”

“Among other requests,” she replied, a bit more thoughtful than before. Maybe she felt bad after nearly cleaving Sal in half. “... She is… unexpectedly shrewd.”

“Surprised me too.”

“Are you close with her?”

Kasumi wasn’t sure what she meant. That they talked? That they were friends? Had she slept with her? That was always the problem with being too tactful. Sometimes that ambiguity hung in the air, and she was left wondering if one answer or another would give away too much. Deflection it was then. “You met her before?”

Samara sighed through her nose, glancing only once or twice to the door. Perhaps to make sure they would stay alone for the moment. She hadn’t heard any footsteps. Krogans especially were loud, no matter how hard they tried to be sneaky. “... Our paths have crossed a few times. It seems it always ends the same.”

“Yeah?”

“It is the nature of politics to fall into a realm of grey, Ms. Goto. I’m sure you’ve seen that enough.”

That she did, but where was she going with it, exactly?

“A word of advice as friends,” and her voice was grave, graver than usual. “I would be careful with her. A knowledge like the consort’s... at so young an age? It is rarely gained through clean hands.”

…

Why couldn’t she just have nice things?

The krogan, it turned out, was named Belak, and was one of many that joined Urdnot after Grunt’s infamous joining. She was surprised to hear it-- considering the age that clearly showed on his scaly skin and the worn scars that gnarled deep into his plate. He looked happy to see her alive, and a little gentle prodding kept him from trying to headbutt her in greeting. She didn’t need a more severe concussion as congratulations on her speedy recovery.

Still, they talked for a while. He had gone with the volus, figuring that he needed someone big to keep the scrawny thing from rupturing his suit somewhere. They had been on the other side of the perimeter when the call came in, not nearly enough time to set up something so elaborate and then book it.

“Wasn’t long after we found Katul, actually. Guy was banged up from a nasty fall,” and he laughed, a deep bravado and gruffness that was so, so krogan. “They’re just all bones and so, so tiny. Surprised he didn’t break his back.”

“It was the other turian that died, remember?” Kasumi remarked, but couldn’t help feeling a bit nostalgic honestly. She wondered how Grunt was doing with all this mess. No doubt he was back at Urdnot helping to clean up. Though she didn’t really know what a normal Tuchanka was supposed to look like.

“Yeah, I guess that’s sad, or whatever. At least you got hit doing something nice.” He perked up then, as if remembering something. “Hey, is Sal going to be alright? Squishy bastard owes me a few hundred credits.”

A lack of empathy didn’t mean a guilty conscience, so after checking in with the volus, both were let go to continue their business.

“Should we get the elcor next?” Samara asked as the volus left, bumbling down the stairs with a heavy sigh.

Kasumi looked at the width of the planks and shook her head. “He won’t make it up. We’ll talk to him once everyone else is done.”

“That leaves… the batarian and the turian, correct?”

Neither of which Kasumi really wanted to talk to. However, no one would let her procrastinate further. She would keep her words as neutral as possible and hoped the threat she left the priest with yesterday was enough to keep his mouth shut. The last thing she wanted was Samara to know.

To push off that particular issue a bit longer, she chose Katul first. It would be good to start with something simple maybe. A cursory check of his injuries? Maybe a lighthearted joke about him being her errand boy? Neither of them seemed appropriate. Perhaps a simple ‘how’s he feeling’ would do to ease an already skittish man into talking.

His steps were heavier and slower than usual. A surprise with how haunted he was ordinarily.

He came to the roof, and Kasumi’s voice died in her throat.

Something was wrong. She hadn’t noticed in the crowd before, but now that it was just three of them, she had much fewer distractions. The shiftlessness, the way his eyes seemed to drag as he flitted his gaze from her, to Samara, to the expanse beyond them, to the sky above. He… he was ghastly. And the pain inside was so open for the world to see, so much more raw and visceral than before.

She saw a man a moment away from wailing, and she felt that brewing inside her, always ready to claw itself to the surface. It just needed the right trigger-- a smell, a tugging thought, sometimes just a certain shadow that would creep in at night, tricking her just long enough to think it was Keiji in her sleep-addled mind.

She stared and dug right into Katul’s soul, and found something even worse inside.

Samara’s touch on her arm startled her, and at once she was back in reality. She wasn’t alone, and too quickly she would have to put herself back together. Kasumi brushed the touch away with as kind a hand as she could muster and found her voice again. “... What happened?”

“Sura hadn’t told you?” his voice was even, but he stayed rooted just past the door that he came from. “Thyra is-- was my daughter.”

No.

No, she wasn’t doing this.

It didn’t matter that he was gone for too long. That his movement and time was the most unaccounted for. It didn’t matter. The STG could work that out for all she cared.

“Leave,” couldn’t come out quick enough.

“Ms. Goto?”

She didn’t know she was staring.

“Would a break help you?”

How come it didn’t bother Samara? Maybe she wasn’t supposed to feel this way. Maybe it shouldn’t take a new piece of her every time, leaving her with holes and broken parts that no amount of wiring and tinkering could fix. She wanted to stop remembering, but it-- it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to him. It wasn’t fair to her. The emotions, the passion, the love and inspiration that carried her forward.

Samara had lost more. Lost worse. It was one thing to lose a lover. It was another to lose a child. To lose children. Her daughters. And she did it by her hand. Her hand with the same biotics and skill that terrified her. Who was Morinth? How could she put so much inside herself that she was okay again? Kasumi wanted it. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t--

She felt cool fingers curled against her temples, and suddenly she found two passive eyes looking back, except they were warm, motherly. She saw a gentleness there, of a person buried underneath. Someone that saw her daughters before her, trembling and vulnerable.

Sympathy. Understanding. “... I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

Kasumi closed her eyes and breathed.

She didn’t ask for Darshan, but he found them just the same. Kasumi had slumped against the wall next to the door at that point, already more exhausted than she had ever been. Samara was messing with her omni-tool not far, back to the cool demeanor she was used to. The silence had been comfortable, but it didn’t take much to pick up Darshan’s heavy gait, weighed down by the robes he had on him.

“Company,” she called out to Samara, who quickly shut the omni-tool down and turned to greet their visitor. By the time Kasumi stood, the door had creaked open.

There he stood, and already she felt herself stiffen.

“You weren’t requested,” Samara greeted coolly. “I understand this is a process, but you must exercise patience, priest.”

She rubbed her temples. “It’s fine. We’ll get this done quick.”

Samara looked ready to disagree, but the priest interjected quickly, sweeping into the roof. “I appreciate your accommodation, Ms. Maeda. I… I must confess something.”

Not this again. Kasumi rolled her eyes and crept closer to the man, ready to throw him off the building if even a single word came out about her time in slavery. She was not going to be this man’s redemption arc, no matter how badly he wanted it. “If this is about what we--”

“There is another group here.”

What?

Samara seemed less than impressed. “We’re aware of several actually.” What?! “But please elaborate, priest.”

“... I had tried telling you yesterday,” he was not going to blame her for this. Fuck that. “It’s a band of batarians. I’m not sure where they are exactly, but one of their members reached out when we first landed.”

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” She tried to keep the irritation down. Certainly, certainly he had his reasons. They could be refugees. Could be another dead end. It’s not like slavers had the resources or the market to start culling again.

“I…” Darshan glanced to Samara, and thought better on his initial response. Fortunately. “... I am aware of our reputation right now. I assumed they were just trying to survive. It didn’t make sense to incite panic at the time.”

“But if they have been here for some time…” Samara found her mark.

“Please. They might have their reasons. We didn’t all just die when the reapers came, and if there are some life left--”

“It’s okay,” she found herself saying, even if she wasn’t sure she really meant it. It would do better than to panic the priest further anyway. “Did they say where they were when you talked with them? How did they make contact before I had the tower up?”

“I ran into a scout while we were setting up camp. He… he didn’t mention where the rest were.”

That was a lie, but that was fine. If his story checked out, they were likely between the two camps. Still a lot of ground to cover, but if they had a settlement, there would be signs before she saw it. Pathways, landmarks for strays. She had a lot of work to do this evening. After all of this, she wasn’t sure how much sleep she would be getting anyway. Though they had a sizable unit at the camp, Kasumi knew enough about STG habits to sneak out. A quick chat with Sha’ira, a stop by her tent, and she would be out as soon as the sun set.

But what to do with him? It would be easier to let STG do what they liked, took out a potential liability before he had the chance to spill further information and awkward conversations. He didn’t really deserve it though. Despite hiding this for as long as he did, he had… reasons. Understandable reasons. He didn’t know she recognized her own biases. As far as he knew, she was just an angry woman that wanted nothing to do with him.

But even beyond that, she doubted the STG would let him roam freely around the camp. She looked to Samara, who remained carefully stoic. “... I’m sure the major will have his own ideas, but don’t kill him?”

She nodded. “They will be upset if you leave.”

Kasumi offered a smile in apology. “I’ll bring good news back. Promise~.”

---

The elcor was still waiting patiently by the time she bounded down the last few steps. Oh. She forgot about him.

He craned his neck and looked at her. Sometimes, if she looked hard enough, Kasumi would say that the elcor were a species that was constantly smiling. Still, he had clearly behaved, and she had enough information to go about her business. It’s not like an elcor could hold a sniper rifle. … Or could they?

“You’re free to go,” she still offered.

“With relief: I am happy to hear that this matter will be resolved shortly. Exasperated: I have much to do, then. Please, excuse me…” and off he went, lumbering and squeezing through the entrance of the gutted building with some effort.

She would have to brush up on her elcor biology later.

---

The QEC felt good in her hands. It was modded of course, like most any piece of tech Kasumi carried around with her. Multiple encryption channels, decryption keys for whenever she was ever curious, voice modulator and screen distortion if she ever felt like being super spooky. Amazing how many people still fell for simple tricks like that.

“I’m glad I could keep it safe for you.” Sha’ira’s eyes wrinkled when she smiled. The one just wide enough to show perfect teeth. It was nice to see such warmth easily given after spending all day with a justicar.

“I hope you didn’t just guard it all day. You certainly had better things to do.”

“Something more difficult, I’m afraid.” Sha’ira brushed her shoulders, dusting off what soot and dust that may have collected clamoring up and down the building all day. “Did we find anything?”

She grinned. “A crumb trail. Don’t wait up for me.”

Sha’ira’s smile waned, eyes deadly serious. “... Alone?”

What other choice was there? Samara was good at what she did, but what she did wasn’t subtle. Major Kirrahe would be doing his own investigation, and following up with whatever parties were out there. If she asked, sure, she could probably get a guard or two to keep her company, but that was if he let her out of the confines of the camp in the first place. “Sneaking around is kind of what I do. I’ll be fine.”

“What about you friend?” Her brow furrowed. “... Do the others know about them?”

Khalisah? The idea of seeing her in a catsuit was hilarious honestly, but she had a better use for that camera this evening. Maybe a bit of bargaining and she could be a security camera. Make sure no one was looking for her back at camp. Though she wouldn’t really expect someone so… normal to make a habit of staying up all night. “I’m sure she’d like to keep the others from finding out. Do you mind?”

“If you trust her, then I shall as well. Hopefully she’s able to defend herself.”

Oh, most definitely not. The reporter seemed smart enough to have a security system in place at her campsite though. She wouldn’t be taken out easily.

Still, Sha’ira didn’t look pleased. Her eyes flickered to the rest of the campsite, careful-- always careful of who was watching or listening. “... If I can’t dissuade you, at least stay long enough for me to apologize.”

There they were again. How often they danced like this? Sha’ira was an adept one, Kasumi admitted. She tangled herself in her words and slipped through where each opening laid. She didn’t think the consort meant an actual apology, but more an olive branch, ensuring the conversation continued in a way that Kasumi wouldn’t shrink away again. It was being offered with an open hand again.

To Sha’ira, was she a ghoul looking back? An empty face, staring unblinking into her well of grief, just as Katul had before her?

“... You don’t need to,” Kasumi chanced, awkwardly given between half-starts and half-finished thoughts she didn’t want to voice. “... I… I would like to continue that talk, actually. Maybe when I get back?”

The relief that washed over Sha’ira made the concession alone worth it. “I believe it would be good for us both.” She found her left hand, threading it between her own and squeezing gently. “... It won’t be without its rewards, Kasumi. I promise you that.”

She still wasn’t sure. But maybe she would find something in it, or make something new out of the little bits of herself she had left. If she could be better, was it wrong to reach for it? Samara had. Katul would, in time. She saw the earnestness in the way Sha’ira looked on her, so open. The only thing she could think to do was tuck herself further away. “... I like chamomile?”

“Done. Oh!” The smile was back as she stepped away, back toward the entrance of her tent. “... I left a surprise for you at your tent. Though you feel it unnecessary, I think you’ll find it apology enough for the trouble.”

As if talking about her problems was a burden to anyone but the listener. “All day for me? You spoil me, Consort.”

And there was pride in the way she smirked. A look that wasn’t so unfamiliar on herself. “I do my best.”

Please don’t ask for anything else.

- Kirrahe

She stared at the assortment of mods, having been packaged neatly in its own dark bag-- secured safely inside her tent and out of sight. She began sorting through the collection, knowing the order with automatic, fluid grace and motion. Though she rarely disassembled her omni-tool completely, it never hurt to know how each one connected to one another.

Her hand brushed against another datapad, buried deep within the bag.

Be safe.

- Sha’ira

…

Of course. Of course she knew Kasumi would. Maybe the woman was dangerous.

It made the whole game more exciting that way.

#kiwi crossposts #mass effect #fanfiction #multichapter fics #kasumi goto

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tilltheendwilliwrite · 6 years

Text

Of Blood and Roses*

Chapter Fifteen

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Loki x Lauren | Word count: 9548 Warnings: Fluff, angst, smut, NSFW, and a whole lot of Loki being Loki.

Loki sat with Lauren and asked the Three quiet questions, hoping for answers about who she would become. It was clear she had powerful magic inside her, magic tied to the land in some way, but the Three were cryptic in their answers. They spoke in riddles or gave knowing smiles, all things Loki couldn’t discern truth or lies from.

The smugness of them annoyed him, but he would not upset the Norns by insulting their priestesses, no matter how badly he wanted to.

As one, the women stood and returned to their respective forests. While Nåværende collected flowers, Fortiden harvested supple twigs and the brightest of leaves, and young Fremtiden climbed high in her evergreens to reach the lowest branches of Yggdrasil and pick the beautiful white blooms.

Each returned to the floor beyond the pond and set their treasures down. As Fremtiden and Nåværende began weaving and working on… something, Fortiden returned to Loki’s side.

“The Norns speak through me. Will you listen, God of Mischief?”

Loki nodded, his gaze unwavering from the woman’s face. “I would receive their message.”

She sat, and her robes flowed out around her. “They would have you know your sacrifices, what you went through, were not in vain.”

“I know that,” he said, harder perhaps than he should have. “All these things brought me to her.” He looked down at the woman in his lap.

“Yes, they did,” she smiled at Lauren. “Do not forget that. Remember it, even when the night seems darkest.”

He looked at her sharply. “What does that mean?”

“I cannot tell you.” She shook her head. “But know we all have our trials to walk, and what the Norns plan, no man, or God, can fully understand until the end is revealed.”

Loki clutched Lauren tighter, disliking the ominous feeling to Fortiden’s words. “I won’t let them hurt her.”

“We all must fall many times when we are learning to walk, my prince,” Fortiden said softly as she pushed to her feet. “Your lady wakes.”

Heart pounding in terror, Loki watched Lauren sigh. “Please don’t do this,” he whispered to the priestess.

“The Norns are merciful. Learn that lesson well, Loki,” Fortiden murmured as she turned to the others.

***

A world of white fog and rolling mist spread out beneath Lauren’s feet. Standing on the peak of a tall mountain, she gazed out over the shroud of it in wonder.

“It is beautiful, isn’t it?”

She turned to see a man with a staff of twisted blonde wood in his hands. “It is.” And so was he.

He was tall, even when compared to Loki or Thor, with a face like an angel but hair as dark as night shot through with silver. Eyes of pure blue, so pale they were almost white, peered at her curiously. Garments of silver velvet embroidered with strange symbols did little to hide the strength of his sleek frame.

“But not everything is as it seems,” he said, letting the tip of the staff drop to the ground.

The granite rolled beneath her feet, sending Lauren stumbling forward to catch herself on his arm rather than fall to her knees. “What are you doin’?”

He shook his head slowly. “I do nothing. Yggdrasil speaks. Balance must be restored.”

Lauren frowned, the world at her feet catching her attention again when mist burned away to be replaced by the red of superheated lava. Mountains crumbled, sending ice and stone tumbling down into the molten rock.

“Stop! Not like this! You’re destroyin’ it!” she cried, yanking the staff from his grasp.

Instantly the land settled, the lava cooled and blackened, and the mist returned to hide the unsightly scar.

He turned on her in apparent disbelief. “Who are you? What are you?”

He took a step toward her, and Lauren took one in retreat. “No one. I’m… I’m no one. Nothin’ special.”

His eyes fell to her torque and widened further. “It’s… not possible.”

She reached up to touch the stone at her throat. “Please, stop this.”

“Balance must be achieved.” He reached for the staff.

“Not like this!” Lauren tucked the staff behind her back and stamped her foot. “Cut it out! You can’t destroy one thing in order to balance somethin’ else out!”

“What would you know of balance, girl who is no one special?”

She gave an inelegant snort and took another step back. “Walk on your hands for as many years as I have and you’ll learn a thing or two about balance.”

“Return my staff,” he said sternly.

“No.”

“You must.”

“I won’t.” She lifted her chin defiantly.

“Unlike you, I am not no one. Return it, or suffer the consequences.”

Lauren switched it to the other hand and held it out over the land of mist, balanced precariously on the edge of the cliff. “Promise me you’ll stop.”

“I cannot.”

“Then I can’t give it back.” She let it slide through her hand a few inches.

“You do not understand!” he roared. “I do not want to do these things, but I must!”

“Find another way!” she snapped.

“There is no other way! Do you think I have not tried? I destroy what I must to preserve what I can. I must protect my people.” He held out his hand; shoulders slumped in defeat. “There is no other way.”

Lauren’s heart ached for him even as she pulled his staff to her chest. “Have you asked for help?”

He turned his face away. “I cannot do that either.”

“Well, why the heck not?” she huffed. “Y’all clearly need it! I don’t even know what the hell’s goin’ on down there, but you can’t rip your world apart like that!”

“And where would we seek assistance?” he scoffed. “Asgard?”

Lauren lifted her chin again. “And why not? What’s wrong with Asgard?”

“Asgard has fallen to darkness.”

Now she scoffed. “Don’t be stupid. Asgard’s not dark.”

“Yes, it is. It has been for centuries,” he said emphatically.

“No,” she shook her head, “it’s not. Y’all have clearly not been there in a while if you think Asgard’s dark.”

“Do not lie to me, woman! The World Tree withers in the temple! I have seen it with my own eyes!” he barked, throwing up his hands before turning away.

“It blooms.”

“What?” He turned back so fast his hair flew around and slapped him in the face.

Lauren just managed to bite back a snicker. “It blooms. Just today. I saw it myself.” She glanced down at the mist billowing past her feet. ��Don’t believe me? Come and see for yourself.” The fog rose up and seemed to swallow her whole as his staff fell from her fingers to the ground.

***

Lauren blinked open her eyes and smiled up at Loki when he caressed her cheek. “Hey.” The worry in his eyes gave her pause. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he smiled, the worry disappearing.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“Yes, my heart.” Loki looked up at the branches above. “Look what you did, darling.”

“I know,” she giggled. “It’s so pretty. I even had a weird dream about it.”

“A weird one? Care to share,” he asked as he helped her sit up.

Lauren only shrugged. “It was strange, but not scary or anythin’. Some tall guy was doin’ somethin’ bad, and I made him stop. Then we talked about Asgard a little, I told him how the tree bloomed today, and then I woke up.”

“That is strange,” Loki murmured, helping her to her feet. “How do you feel now that you’ve rested?”

“Fine. Though… I don’t understand what happened,” she glanced shyly at the Three.

Fortiden came forward and held out her hands to take Lauren's. “Like physical stamina, magic also takes work to grow stronger. You have a very deep well to draw from, but you are yet young and new to magic’s ways. It is easy to overexert one’s self, and drain too much.”

“Is that why I got so tired?”

“Yes, love.” Loki nuzzled against her ear. “Much more and you would have passed out in the pool. It is possible to give of yourself to death, but it is very difficult. We are built with the will and desire to live, and our magic knows this. It will shut us down rather than run out completely.”

Lauren sighed heavily. “Really, really need a manual on all this stuff.”

Fortiden chuckled. “What you need is a teacher. One who knows Asgard’s ways and can teach you what all our children learn as they grow.”

“Great. I need to go back to kindergarten.”

“Something along those lines,” Loki snickered. “But perhaps just a tutor. One of the teachers for the school may be interested in assisting you. I will send an inquiry.”

“Excellent! Now, before you go, we have a gift for you,” Fortiden said, motioning to the others.

“Oh, that’s not necessary,” Lauren blushed.

“But it is!” Nåværende insisted.

“You did us such a service, returning out home to its past glory,” Fremtiden agreed and held out a crown of leaves and flowers, berries and twigs, all woven together exquisitely.

“How lovely!” Lauren gasped, her hands flying to her heart.

When the youngest of the Three motioned her to bend down, Lauren did so and giggled a little in nervous excitement when the floral crown settled on her head.

“All who come will see and know, Lauren of Asgard returned our bower to us. May the Norns forever bless you both,” Fortiden smiled and tilted her head.

A clear dismissal, Lauren nodded back, but when she made to follow Loki, she found the swans standing at the edge of the pool. “Goodbye.” She waved to them and grinned when they appeared to wag their tails.

Loki only chuckled as he led her away. “Come, my love. The others will be growing anxious.”

When they left the hollow in the tree, Lauren shivered. It was like stepping beyond a warm embrace, leaving the comforting arms which once held you. She hadn’t noticed it walking inside, and paused to look back at the shadowy interior.

“It always feels that way,” Loki said, placing his hand on her lower back. “The tree is a sanctuary. Leaving can be difficult, but the feeling of loss fades once you exit the temple.”

“Everythin’ feels… different now,” she murmured. “Like… I took a giant step in a direction I wasn’t expectin’.” A little worried, Lauren looked up at him. “I… don’t know how I feel about that.”

He drew her to a stop in the middle of the bridge. “Excited, I think. This is a journey, my love. And though there will be twists and turns, likely bumps and bruises and possible missteps, everything happens as it should. We… we can’t know the Norn’s purpose until it is revealed to us.”

“A leap of faith, huh?” she smiled up at him.

“Yes. Big and terrifying though it may seem.”

The worry had returned to his eyes. “Loki? What is it?”

He held her gaze for a long moment, seeming to memorize her face and her features before his hands lifted to rest on either side of her jaw. “I don’t know. Truly. The Norns are cryptic and beyond my understanding, but I had a moment this morning after Sigyn challenged us and lost. Danger, and it comes for you, Lauren,” he whispered, letting his forehead rest against hers. “If something were to happen to you… I would tear apart all the realms to find you.”

“Loki.” Lauren lifted her hands to his lapels. “I know you would. I guess I’d best keep my torque tight, hm?” she smiled a little, trying to lighten the mood. When he sighed, she knew she hadn’t succeeded. “I won’t live scared. If this danger is real and it’s gonna come at me, then I want you to teach me. Teach me magic. Teach me to fight. Teach me… teach me to kill if I have to.”

“Lauren, no…” He shook his head. “I do not ever want you to have to do that. Taking a life is no easy feat. It… scars a heart in ways yours may never recover from.”

She reached higher until her hands mirrored his. “I would rather take a life than have mine taken from me.”

Green blazed sharply in his eyes. “I wouldn’t long live without you in this world.”

“Then you’d best teach me so I can fight for us both.”

He swallowed and shut his eyes, regret seeming to carve fresh lines in his face. “Then we will teach you. Tomorrow you will begin training, and until I say otherwise, you will keep training.”

Leaning into him, Lauren cocked her head and peered up at him through her lashes. “Can I have at least an hour or two to spend in the barn?”

Immediately some of the hardness fell from his face. “I will see you have plenty of time to spend with that menace of a stallion. But the rest of the time will be lessons, lessons, and more lessons. You must learn everything quickly.”

“Agreed.”

“And you will go nowhere without an escort. One of our friends, Thor, Father, or myself will be with you. If we cannot, you either stay within the walls of the castle, or I send Joran and his ten best men with you.”

“Loki… isn’t that a bit much?” She sighed in resignation when he only looked at her. “Never mind.”

He relaxed enough to smirk his familiar smile and kiss her on the nose making it wrinkle. “Good. I do not yet know what comes, but I will not have you unprepared or unprotected.”

Staring up at him for a moment longer, Lauren lifted her hand to push back his hair. “Whatever happens, Loki. If somehow, somethin’ goes awry, know I’ll never stop fightin’ to get back to you. I’ll never stop searchin’ for a way home.”

He swept his arms around her and hugged her tight. “Home two days, and I feel as if we must prepare for war.”

Lauren held him just as tightly. “Then we prepare and pray it never comes.”

He pulled back to kiss her, gentle, soft, and slow. Ardent in his affection, the tenderness caused her eyes to tear.

When they broke apart moments later, nothing more needed saying. Loki curled her hand around his arm and walked on, nodding to the woman at the head of the bridge who smiled and bowed with their passing.

Lauren looked up again at the tree, still stunned to know she had done that. Taken the deep green of the canopy and covered it in white blossoms unlike any she’d ever seen before.

Around the outskirts of the cavern they walked, finding more and more people lined the railing to stand and stare at the tree. When they finally reached Thor and Sif, and Volstagg and his family, Fandral and Hogun had joined them. All were marvelling at the tree like everyone else.

“This is gonna be another thing, isn’t it?” Lauren murmured to Loki.

“Thing?” Loki asked.

“You know. Where I do somethin’ weird, and everyone stares at me like I’m odd.”

“Not odd, my love. Special,” he smiled and approached his brother. “Thor, close your mouth. It’s unbecoming of a king to gape so.”

Thor’s teeth closed with an audible click before opening them again as half-formed words and phrases spilled out. “You… that is… wh-... how… when did… did you… Loki?”

“I gave of myself, but it was Lauren who renewed such life into Yggdrasil,” Loki said proudly.

She clutched Loki’s arm when Thor appeared to be about to mow her down he was coming at her so fast. Then, his hands found her waist, and he was lifting her up high in the air to swing her wildly around before hugging her tight and laying a smacking kiss to her cheek.

“My sister did that!” he crowed laughing his great, booming laugh.

“Thor, you giant buffoon! Put my wife down before you break her!” Loki snapped.

But Lauren only laughed and kissed Thor on his bushy beard in return. “I’m happy it makes you so happy, cause I had no idea what I was doin’.”

“Never in all my years,” Volstagg murmured, staring at the tree in wonder.

“Or mine,” Hogun agreed.

“What does it mean?” Fandral asked only for Sif to smack him in the back of the head.

“You don’t ask those kinds of questions. Why must you be so impatient?”

Lauren laughed brightly and hugged Thor when he finally put her down. She really adored this odd little family of theirs.

***

After what seemed like endless question, the group of them made it out of the temple and back onto the main road where Lauren deserted Loki to sidle up beside Sif and create a little distance between them and the others.

“I’m sorry about Loki. He just knows me too well, and when you left us last night, he was real sweet about helpin’ you if you needed it, and… I caved,” Lauren sighed. “I’ll understand if you’re no longer interested in my help.”

Sif blinked at her in shock. “No! No, I am! Lauren, it may have been a surprise to have him speak to me about it, but he was… kind. I never knew he could have such kindness in him. I believe you have much to do with that, but we also never truly gave the other a chance growing up. We have mended our differences, and while I am still… skeptical of what tonight will bring, I am also,” she tucked her chin down and glanced sideways at Lauren, “a little excited.”

“Yay!” Lauren giggled and squeezed her arm.

The brunette snickered before leaning closer and whispering, “He thinks to teach me to flirt.”

A momentary and fleeting shot of jealousy jabbed Lauren in the heart, but she pushed it easily aside. “Well, he’s kind of a natural at it.”

“I fear I will be red of face for hours.” Sif was already blushing.

“It’s just practice, Sif. You do it often enough, and it becomes easier.” Lauren patted her arm. “Remind me of that when Hogun is kickin’ my butt in the next few days.”

“Ah, training begins I take it?” Sif asked with a smile.

“Yes. It’s necessary.”

Sif came to a sudden stop and looked at her hard. “Why? I mean, I understand the man today might have escalated your desire to learn, but you sound most… grave, Lauren.”

“Loki… has a feelin’. And somethin’ the Three said to him,” she sighed and shook her head. “He said he feels like he’s preparin’ for war, Sif. Two days here and already somethin’s changed.” Lauren looked at her seriously for a moment as she thought about what she was going to ask of her new friend. “I need you to do somethin’ for me.”

“Ask, and if I can I will,” Sif vowed.

“I need you to think like only a woman can when she fights a man. Not a warrior, but a woman. Can you teach me things the men wouldn’t think of? Spots to injure that will down a man faster than a sword or punch will?”

“Lauren…” she looked shocked for a moment before her gaze drifted up to land on the flowers now gracing Lauren’s hair. Her eyes hardened and dropped back to Lauren’s. “Yes. I can teach you.”

Lauren nodded and began walking again, well aware of Loki watching her while he walked with Fandral and Hogun. “He’s not happy about this.”

“He wouldn’t be. No man would. It is his duty and his privilege to see to his Ástvinur. Learning he will, quite possibly, fail in that regard in someway will put him on edge.”

“Isn’t it better I learn this now, rather than be caught unaware?”

“He will see it as you should not have been caught unaware, to begin with. This is Asgard! You are the Princess of Asgard. There should be none who seek to harm you here. You should be safe to walk the streets during the darkest hours of the night completely alone if that were your wish simply because of who you are. That you cannot…” Sif took a deep, fortifying breath. “Remind me not to anger your husband in the coming days and weeks.”

“I will do my best to keep his temper in check,” Lauren snickered.

Sif arched a brow and looked at her sideways. “Are you implying things of an intimate nature?”

“And if I were?” she teased.

“Then I would not want to know what you were implying,” Sif blushed.

“Considerin’ the rather ‘free love’ thinkin’ of the people ‘round here, one would think you’d be used to it.”

“I have never been free with my affections. And while others around me tend to run rampant, it still makes me… uncomfortable.”

“Why?” Lauren asked out of curiosity. “You’re gorgeous.”

“That is why,” she sighed. “Everyone saw my face first, then my sword, so I sought to prove them wrong. Now, my sword is all anyone sees, and my face… does me no favours. Do you know what it is like to be uncomfortable in your own body?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Lauren sighed. “Luckily, I had Sadie and Gran to help me see what I saw in the mirror and what mama, Marabeth, and Cissy had been shoutin’ at me for years, didn’t mesh with what was really there. For me, it took leavin’ home and gettin’ out from under everyone’s scrutiny to become someone I liked and respected, but even then there was still doubt and self-image issues to be handled. Loki helps with a lot of that.”

“Is…” she hesitated before deciding to finish the question. “Is that what happened this morning? With Madame Lanche?”

“Yes. I had a bit of a… flashback is what we’d call it on Earth. What that woman was sayin’ got mixed up in my head with somethin’ my mama always used to scream at me, and though Madame Lanche didn’t mean it with the same intention mama used to, it still returned all those same feelin’s of inadequacy. I was seconds away from a full retreat when you stepped in.” She looked at Sif and smiled. “Thank you for that. That little bit of backin’ snapped me out of it.”

“Lauren…” she murmured, her eyes huge. “Did your mother… hit you?”

Lauren fought not to flinch. “No. But there are other kinds of abuse besides physical. It’s one of many reasons I left home. Yes, the biggest was my ex, but he was simply the catalyst in a long line of reasons to run away.”

“I… don’t know what to say.”

“There’s nothin’ to say. My sister was by far worse than my mother ever was, but those are memories I prefer not to dwell on.”

Sif was quiet for a time as they continued on their way back to the palace, Lauren smiling and waving a little when people would call out to her.

“Lauren, if in the future you find yourself in a situation which gives you these… flashbacks again and Loki is not there, but I am, look to me. I will give you strength until you can find what lives in you, and grasp it tightly with both hands.”

“Thank you, Sif,” Lauren murmured, squeezing the woman’s arm. “You’re a good friend.”

“I will remind you of that when you are flat on your back with the wind knocked out of you,” she chuckled.

***

Loki watched everything. The crowd, the buildings, the rooftops where they dipped low enough, but mostly he watched Lauren and Sif, heads bent together speaking while he listened to the fluctuations of Lauren’s emotions.

He hated how unsettled she’d become. They fluxed and fluttered all over, the joy of earlier muted beneath uncertainty. But he had to admit when she’d stood on Yggdrasil’s bridge and asked him to teach her everything, her conviction and determination had been inspiring.

Her next words though had left him cold. To kill. He wasn’t sure he could live with himself if she had to do that. If, for whatever reason, he was not there to deliver the blow and her innocent hands did it instead he knew it would scar her, as he’d said, in a way she would never recover from.

But he would teach her, and he would have the others teach her because scarred was still better than dead.

“Are you even listening to me?” Fandral huffed and jabbed him in the ribs.

Loki’s arm jerked back, but he managed to contain the punch before he sent Fandral through the nearest wall. It was not his fault Loki was on edge. “I was not.”

“You are very jumpy, Loki. What did the Three say?” Hogun asked.

“Things I do not wish to speak about publicly,” he murmured. “But Lauren begins training tomorrow, and though it pains me what I am about to ask must not go unheard. Do not go easy on my wife. She must learn, and she must do so at great speed, whatever the cost to her body. If we must seek the pools beneath the keep every night, so be it.”

“Loki!” Hogun gasped. “I cannot-”

Loki cut him off with a look. “You must!”

“Is this because of the man at Tara’s?” Fandral asked.

“It is because the Norns work in ways I do not understand, and the dread of something sinister scratched my spine post Sigyn’s humiliation.”

The two men with Loki exchanged a hard glance. “Then we begin tomorrow. Thor will not like it.”

“Thor can kiss my ass,” Loki muttered. “What were you prattling on about before this, Fandral?”

“The dagger. We found the forge who made it,” the blond said, producing the dagger from the small of his back. “The bad news is he’s made dozens, if not hundreds of a similar design. There is no way of knowing to whom it was sold for certain.”

Loki ground his teeth together, plucked the blade from Fandral’s fingers, and made it vanish. “There are other ways of finding people who do not wish to be found.” He may not like Strange, nor did the Doctor like him, but he did have an extensive and fascinating library Loki occasionally perused when the Doctor was out.

“But for tonight, we feast!” Fandral said enthusiastically.

“For tonight,” Loki agreed and glanced again at Lauren and Sif. “Sif made mention of your natal day approaching, Fandral. By chance have you a favourite colour?”

“Loki!” Fandral laughed and threw his arm around Loki’s shoulders. “I didn’t know you cared!”

“I do not,” he smirked at Fandral. “But Lauren will likely wish to know.”

“Well then, you may tell your lovely wife, I am not partial to any single colour. I like them all, reds, blondes, brunettes.”

“He did not ask hair colour, fool!” Hogun huffed.

“Bah!” Fandral scoffed. “What other colours matter?”

“Dress colours,” Loki said casually, though he found the man’s flippant manner aggravating. What Sif saw in him, Loki would never understand. “There are certain colours I would never dream of putting Lauren in after all.”

“Hm, excellent point,” Fandral nodded gravely. “Perhaps indigo, a deep plum is nice, a dark red. Though after seeing your darling wife in that blush gown, perhaps that should be my favourite colour. It is most fetching.”

Loki produced a long, sharp dagger with a wicked looking curved tip and held it out for Fandral to see. “I will stab you with this if you do not shut up about my wife.”

Placing his hand on his heart, Fandral sighed dramatically. “Is it my fault the Norns saw fit to bless you with a woman whose smile lights up a room? Whose voice could sing the stars from the sky? Whose grace could put even the rulers of Alfheim to shame?”

“In the belly, Fandral, so that when I remove it, your entrails follow,” Loki threatened.

“Spoilsport,” he grumbled but stopped talking.

Ignoring him and his pouting, Loki vanished the blade, increased his pace, and joined Sif and Lauren. “May I inquire as to what you two lovely ladies are whispering about so intently?”

“You may. That doesn’t mean we’ll tell you,” Lauren smirked.

“So it is me you are speaking of!” Loki snickered. “All good things, I hope.”

“Lauren, has he told you yet about turning himself orange when he was first learning seiðr from Lady Frigga?” Sif asked.

“Sif!” Loki gasped in outrage.

“Orange?” Lauren burst out in giggles.

“Or there was the time he turned into a mouse but couldn't quite turn back and wound up sporting whiskers and a tail for most of a day.”

“How the hell do you know that?” Loki barked.

“Lady Frigga liked to talk about her boy,” Sif said, her smile both smug and soft as she wandered away.

“Just you wait until later,” Loki muttered. “I get to dress you tonight.”

She froze for a moment before smiling over her shoulder. “I give Lauren final approval.”

Loki huffed a pout, and Lauren broke down in all new giggles. “I think she’s got you there, peaches.”

“Woman, don’t be ganging up on me with Sif now. Between you and her, and your maids, I’m feeling outnumbered.”

“Guess it’s a good thing Socks is a boy, hm?” Lauren smirked and gave him a saucy wink.

He snagged her by the waist before she could walk away, drew her in close, and cupped her nape to hold her captive. “I love to hear you laugh.”

Her hands went around his waist, beneath his jacket, and up the back of his tunic to rub gentle circles. “Your laugh is better because it’s so rare.”

“Less rare than it used to be, but yours is still better because I know you’re happy. I need you to be happy, my love.” He brushed his lips lightly over hers.

“I am happy, Loki. Never doubt that.”

Green, the colour of new grass, he searched her eyes and found nothing but truth, complete faith, and unending love. “I need you,” he whispered, heart in his throat. “I need to have you and touch you and show you how much I adore you.”

“Yes,” she breathed, her gaze drifting down to his lips. “Can we go? Is it allowed?”

Loki chuckled softly. “Most people are probably surprised we lasted this long,” he said before taking her mouth in a drugging kiss which had her melting against him.

With nothing more than a thought, Loki took the two of them from the city in a shimmer of green magic.

***

Beneath the silk sheets, Loki lay propped on his elbow, watching Lauren play with the kitten pouncing on her fingers. The few hours of the afternoon they’d spent alone with nothing between them but heat and flesh and sweat had been some of the most peaceful Loki had spent since they’d come to Asgard.

As if she could feel his urgency, Lauren had been right there with him, her hunger as insatiable as his, her hands as needy while they wallowed in each other. Sank in and held on and loved desperately.

He felt better, less ready to snap then he had on Yggdrasil’s bridge. But then he could still feel her hands on him, her nails in his back. He could taste her on his tongue, and smell her perfume all over him.

Yet, he couldn’t get the image of her asking him to teach her to kill out of his mind.

“Lauren?”

She rolled to her back and looked up at him, her kitten scampering to follow her fingers. “Loki?”

“I will teach you to kill, but I beg you, I beg you to use it as a last resort. If there is another way, seek it first.”

She sat up and sank her fingers into his hair. “Of course! Loki, I don’t want to hurt anyone, but I’d rather have the knowledge and never need to use it, then to not have it and wind up in trouble.”

He wrapped his arm around her, wanting her close to him always. “I will teach you magic, Hogun will teach you to fight, and Fandral will assist with the sword for his style is more fluid.”

“And Sif is gonna teach me to fight dirty.”

“I beg your pardon? She's what now?”

Lauren laughed and gave him a shove so she could rest her chin on his chest. “Though y’all are super accomplished I'm sure, y’all think like men. I need Sif to think like a girl. In fact, tonight after we’re both dressed, I think I should get her to show me what to do in a dress if I need to fight or flee.”

“That's…” Terrifying. “Brilliant. We will start tonight. Actually, we will start right now.”

From nothing, he pulled the blade he’d purchased at Sif’s urging. “This, my love, is your first weapon.”

“Loki… it's gorgeous.”

“And quite sharp,” he assured her. “Be careful with it.”

She sat up and tucked the sheet beneath her breasts - unfortunately - as she looked the dagger over. “Can you teach me to make them appear and disappear like yours do?”

“Eventually. For now, I will modify all your clothing so you can wear it on your thigh. There will be an opening, like an unfinished pocket in your skirt where you will be able to slide your hand to grasp the blade.”

She pulled it free and held it on her palm. “I feel like it should weigh more. If somethin’ so light can potentially take a life, shouldn’t it be heavier?”

“You would think so,” Loki murmured.

Lauren returned the blade to its sheath and peered at him for a long moment. “So what do I learn first, magic wise?”

Loki chuckled at her inquisitive mind. “You master the elements. Air, water, fire, earth, and spirit.”

“Bris, right? For air?”

“Very good, but bris is breeze, not air. If you were to say air, the air would do nothing.”

“How old were you when you no longer needed the words to make the magic happen?”

Loki shifted until he sat behind her, holding Lauren cradled between his thighs. “Who says I don't?”

She frowned at him. “I've never heard you?”

“Magic is a combination of intention, ability, and will. With intention, you can state the word, or words, of a spell but without ability, you have no skill to make manifest the spell your working. And without will, you cannot make it act as you wish. As I have all three in abundance-"

“And buckets of humility,” Lauren giggled.

He ignored her teasing. “I need only think what I wish of my magic, and it manifests, but the words are still there in my mind. Would you like to try something else?”

“Why? Are my eyes glowin’?”

Loki chuckled and kissed her bare shoulder before vanishing her dagger. “No, my sweet Lauren. You must learn to reach for the magic in you. Feel it in your belly and draw it out. Let's start with drawing it into your hands, then stir the air again. You know how that feels.”

Reaching behind him, Loki propped the pillows at his back so Lauren could stretch out fully. Once she relaxed, Loki set his hand on her belly. “Center yourself as if meditating. Seek the magic within. It will be warm, friendly. It is yours to use and command, but you must learn to do so."

Lauren closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and blew it out slowly. Her hand drifted up to rest on his. “I think… it's a lotus. Violet and pink and lavender floating on still water. It kinda glows or shimmers. Like heat risin’ off the pavement.”

“Good, imagine drawing those shimmers toward you. Let them flow up your body and out to your hands.” As he spoke, he collected her hands in his and shifted them so they were cupped before her. “Pour the power into your palms. It is fluid, moving. Let it pool.”

He did not let his excitement show in his voice or let it kick in his heart when wisps of violet energy began to curl and flow down her arms in spirals to swirl and dance in her palms.

“Hold your concentration and open your eyes, my heart,” he smiled.

Her little gasp of amazement made him chuckle. “Incredible.”

Her curious kitten stood up on his hind legs to peer over the edge of her hands. Socks meowed, sounding most impressed.

Loki flicked his fingers, sending snowflakes drifting from the ceiling. “Now, stir the air.”

“How?”

“How did you do it last time?”

Loki could feel her determination build slowly as she took a deep breath and said softly, “Bris…”

The magic lifted from her palms in more wisps and curls to twine through the snowflakes and make them swirl.

“That's it. Now, think of what you want your magic to do. Use your hand to guide it for now. Lead it, like a maestro to her orchestra.”

Lauren’s hand lifted, and she began to roll her wrist and sweep her hand back and forth. The magic followed, her breeze sending flakes looping and swirling in a gentle blizzard around them.

“Exceptional! An amazing job, my love.” He was so incredibly proud of her. “You can now work air.” She laughed, and it was so full of wonder, he couldn’t help but smile.

“I can’t believe this is real,” she said softly, her voice full of awe. “Magic. Loki, I can do magic!” Lauren sent a curl of air whisking snowflakes down to wrap around her kitten, causing Socks to turn in circles as he chased the little bits of white.

A devious smile circled Loki’s lips when he teased his fingers over her stomach, dragging them slowly higher to cup her breasts. “But can you do so while distracted, pet?”

Her serpents no longer held her nipples, but it was easy enough to tweak them with his fingers and create the same reaction. They hardened, and she gasped, sending the snow fluttering.

“Concentrate. You must fight the distraction. In the future, what comes will likely be much less enjoyable than this. You must be able to acknowledge what is happening around you without letting it distract you.

"This is wholly unfair,” she grumbled, fighting her rising desire.

“That is the point,” Loki smirked continuing to fondle her breasts. “You have such a lovely bosom. Keeping my hands to themselves is difficult. In fact, they seem to have a mind of their own,” he grinned as he let one adventurous hand drift down to pet her mound and tug her tight curls.

Another sharp gasp left her lips, but she held her magic, moving the snow up and around, sending it dancing around the two of them.

“You are doing so amazing, sweet,” he purred, so proud of her. “But what if I add a second distraction?” He grinned wickedly, not that she could see it, and left an avatar in his place to play with her beautiful breasts, so he could appear at the foot of the bed and slowly tug the sheet down.

She startled, her focus wavered, and she glanced behind her. Arousal sharp and sweet assaulted Loki's nose, and he hummed in excitement. “Wicked, naughty girl,” he teased as he crawled up the bed to press her knees apart. “The idea of two of me to see to your pleasure pleases you?”

“I… I've never thought about it,” she breathed, a small whimper escaping her throat when his copy plucked her nipples.

“Oh, darling. You cannot even fathom some of the delightful things I will one day do with you,” he purred against her ear and bit it gently.

Loki laughed softly at his copy's teasing. “Yes, so many wonderful experiences await.”

“Starting now,” his double agreed and went to work rolling and twisting her nipples and working his mouth over Lauren's throat.

Another devious chuckle left him when Loki pushed her knees all the way apart and settled between her thighs on his belly. “Spell the alphabet with the snow, my heart. A through Z and if you hold your magic and finish, I will let you come. Fail and no reward.”

“Loki! This is so not fair,” she whined, her control already tentative at best.

“Concentrate,” he ordered. “Begin.”

Letting his copy pay attention to her actions, Loki set about thoroughly distracting her from her goal by gliding his fingers down her thighs to her wet lips, pulling them gently open, and humming as he began to lick, suck, and entice every drop of cream from her.

She moaned, but the magic around him didn't stop. Loki smiled and snaked his tongue into her hot body, adoring how responsive she was even while resisting. Her walls contracted around his tongue, her thighs quaked beneath his hands, but she still didn't break. Her willpower was strong.

Moving higher to her swollen, throbbing bundle of nerves, he gently pulled it between his lips and gave it a suckle. Lauren gasped, and snow went all directions, but she quickly gathered it back under her control without entirely losing hold of her magic.

“Careful, darling,” he chuckled.

“R, S, T,” she muttered.

Loki could feel her need for release burn like fire in her belly and flicked the tip of his tongue over her rapidly, driving her higher until her hand shook with her faltering control.

“W, X… Y… Y,” she gasped, “Z!” erupted on a scream when he pressed his fingers into her contracting body and stroked her sweet spot.

Her magic failed, and when his copy disappeared, so did her ability to sit up as she fell to her back exhausted.

“Oh, my stars…” Lauren gasped for air. “That was really hard, Loki.”

Sweat coated her skin when he wiped his mouth and climbed up her body to settle at her side. “That was an acceptable first test of air. I'm very impressed, my love. Perhaps next we should practice water while in the pool?” he grinned salaciously.

“Cad,” she huffed but rolled over to lay mostly on top of him when he laughed. “I loved this, Loki. Really.”

“Good, because teaching you is most enjoyable to me.”

“It was definitely enjoyable,” she snickered, resting her head over his heart. “You always make things fun.”

“No, my darling. That is you. You have returned my ability to have fun, and I will be forever grateful for it.” Drawing the sheets up with a flick of his wrist, he made sure they were both adequately covered when the soft knock came at the door. “Come.”

The twins slipped inside and dropped matching curtsies. “It is an hour till dinner, my lord.”

“Very good. Lauren will join you in the bath momentarily,” he dismissed them with a nod and watched them scamper away. “Sif will also be arriving soon.”

“Good. Put her in somethin’ red, Loki,” Lauren said as she sat up.

“Red? I was thinking plum, or perhaps a deep burgundy.”

Lauren smiled. “Deep red.”

Fandral had said it was a colour he preferred. “Alright, my heart. If that's your wish.” He twisted his wrist and held out her robe. “Go to the twins and when you're done, join me.”

She reached forward but bypassed her robe to cup his cheeks and kiss him softly on the lips. “Be gentle with her. This is all very new. She’s nervous and tonight is important. It sets the tone for her future.”

“Anything for you, Lauren. I won't shock Sif too badly.” That didn’t mean he wouldn't have at least a little fun while Lauren was occupied. “Go get ready.”

She donned her robe and scampered from their bed, while Loki waited a moment longer before rising.

Tonight… tonight was going to be interesting. He’d see to it Sif enjoyed herself, even if he had to threaten Fandral within an inch of his life to get the blond fool to dance with her.

***

Dressed and waiting, Loki had been indulging in the cask of wine Lauren was gifted, the first of her items to arrive when Sif strode through the outer doors. She looked equal parts determined and terrified.

“My dear Sif, you are not going to war. This is meant to be fun,” Loki teased gently when she noticed him and headed his way.

“Fun for who?” she muttered as she sank down heavily on the chair to his right.

Loki turned his hand and held out a second glass of wine. “For you, Sif. If it isn’t fun, there is no point in doing it.”

She sighed as she accepted the cup, drank deeply, and looked at him over the rim. “I’m not looking for fun, Loki. Just love.”

She looked away, and Loki felt for her again. “This I understand better than most. Up. Stand up. Let me see what I am working with.” He shooed her to her feet and made her turn. “Hmm.”

Loki snapped his fingers, and her typical dress of armour over breeches and boots disappeared to be replaced by a dress of red with a deep neckline and thigh-high slits.

Sif yelped in a front and quickly covered her chest. “Loki!”

He’d already started to chuckle. “It looks quite fetching, Sif. You have the figure for it.”

“I will stab you in the face, Trickster!” she snapped, her face flaming red.

“Consider this payback for earlier,” he snickered and waved his hand.

The dress reformed into one closer to Lauren’s of earlier. The skirt belled slightly, though he gave her more coverage across her chest and broader straps to see Sif comfortable. Again he followed Lauren’s request and made it red, but added sparkles to the sheer overskirt in silver.

Sif lightly touched the skirt, her eyes wide in disbelief. “How pretty,” whispered past her lips.

But it felt… wrong to Loki. “Though you look fetching in it, I think it is a touch too youthful for you, Sif dear.”

“Are you implying I’m old?” she quipped, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Not old. Mature,” Loki huffed, rolling his eyes. “But you must admit you do not carry the same blush of youth to you that Lauren does.”

She looked contrite, then nodded. “I understand your meaning. There is an innocence to her I’ve only ever seen in children. She has no hard edges, no cynicism. She is just… pure goodness, isn’t she?” Sif smiled.

“She has her moments of mischief, but yes, she’s very innocent. Watching her face the harsh realities of life will not be easy,” Loki murmured.

“Everyone must grow up, Loki. And I believe she has perhaps seen more of those harsh realities than you or I have guessed. She told me of her mother.”

“Wretched shrew,” he grumbled.

“Indeed, but also your mother-in-law,” Sif snickered.

“Do not remind me,” Loki huffed and waved his hand, replacing her dress with one of black silk and red sparkle. The back was quite non-existent, and Sif gave another undignified squeak of refusal. “Come on! There is nothing wrong with that!”

“My back is completely bare, Loki!”

“So are your arms, but you do not complain about that!”

“Arms are one thing, but I am well aware of any number of men who would be most enthusiastic about dipping their hands where they don’t belong!” she bellowed.

He shot to his feet in rage. “Who?” Loki snarled, low and deadly. “Who would dare?”

Sif took a step in retreat. “They would only do so once as they’d lose their hand in the process.”

“Lauren’s dress for the evening is quite backless. I would have their names so I may personally inform them to keep their hands to themselves or suffer my wrath,” he stated, gliding toward her.

She arched a brow and lifted her chin, her body naturally moving into the lines of one readying for a fight. “And if you think any of them would be stupid enough, even drunk, to so much as lay a finger on Lauren then you are also an idiot.”

Loki stopped and stared at her for a moment before nodding. “Hm, it would be rather foolish of them, seeing as how they would lose much more than just a hand touching what is mine.”

“Exactly,” Sif snickered.

He cocked his head to the side and looked her over. “But this is not to your taste, is it?” Sif shook her head. Loki paced around her, arms crossed, a finger tapping against his lips. “Then let us try something else.”

Loki sent his magic spiralling around Sif. When it cleared, he’d swept her hair up to leave her neck and shoulders bare, unwilling to allow her to hide behind it should it remain down. Rubies wrapped in silver swung just below her earlobes while a single, heavy teardrop ruby on a slender silver chain rested just below the hollow of her throat. The new dress of red lace clung to her shoulders, dipped slightly into a sweetheart neckline, fit to her body and hips and flare out again from her knees to her ankles and trailed behind her in a sleek train. Once complete, Loki produced a full-length mirror and waved her toward it.

“Oh!” Sif gasped, bringing her hands to her belly. “It’s… it’s beautiful.”

Loki smiled at the excitement in her eyes. “You make it so, Lady Sif,” he said, moving on to phase two of his assistance.

She blushed, then looked at him hard. “What are you playing at, Loki?”

He rolled his eyes in exasperation. “That is not how you accept a compliment, Sif. Try again.”

She blinked once, and her face turned red, then she stuttered, “Th-thank you?”

“Hm. Practice is needed.” Loki held out his hand which she took with minimal hesitation.

“I still feel… a little naked,” she muttered, pressing her free hand to her belly. “Everything is soft, and too much of me is bare.”

“Sif, darling, you need only say so.” Loki waved a hand and produced a pair of ornate silver bracers. “They will appear to everyone as beautiful adornments, but they are as usable as your typical armour.” But where Sif’s bracers were solid with minimal design, these mirrored the pattern of lace on her dress. “Even the sticks I’ve used to hold up your hair are ones you could easily use as a weapon.”

She gaped at him for a moment before taking the bracers and fitting them over her arms. “You’ve thought about this a lot.”

“Changing your attire does not mean you must change who you are, Sif. Learning to be softer also does not mean you cannot still be strong.” He squeezed the fingers of the hand he still held.

“Like you?”

He studied her for a moment trying to decide if she were making a joke, but when honest curiosity remained in her eyes, Loki nodded. “Lauren has changed much of me, but I will still happily gut any fool who comes for her.” He waved a dismissive hand. “Now, you will likely receive many a compliment tonight. How will you respond?”

“Depends on who is giving the compliment,” she muttered.

“No, it truly doesn’t. When someone expresses surprise, as many will, simply smile, tilt your head in a nod, and say, “Thank you.”

“What if they ask why I’m dressed like this?”

Loki tugged at her hand and brought her closer to dance a slow circle wanting her to grow used to the feel of the skirt and train before another could ask her to dance. “That depends on what you want to say.”

She started out stiff, but slowly relaxed into the gentle swaying. “I… I don’t know. I do not want to tell the truth, but I don’t lie well.”

“I am aware,” he snickered. “Blame it on us, Lauren and I.”

“What! How?”

“It is our feast, the first of many to come, and Lauren asked if you’d like me to make you something as the notice of our return home was quite short. As most of the court have now seen what I create for Lauren, it will not be a stretch to think I would put you in something so… feminine as well, and if they comment on the change, you can always say that you quite like the softness of the design and are considering adding more such garments to your wardrobe.”

Her brow arched in amusement. “You are most devious.”

“Dear Sif, you have no idea,” he chuckled and bent her back over his arm.

“It’s a good thing I’m not the jealous type, or this would look highly suspicious,” Lauren said as she, with the twins following, walked out of the bedroom.

Loki lifted Sif up, but couldn’t take his eyes off his wife. She looked exquisite in the blue and gold and cream dress with its pattern of circles and diamonds and little bits of fringe. The twins had left her hair down in soft waves, framing her face, giving her a wild and free appearance. The high neckline currently hid her torque, easily remedied in a moment, but it was the back he longed to see and bid her turn with a circle of his hand.

She chuckled but did as he asked, turning to show him the ropes of amber beads which draped across her bare back. “Do I pass muster, elskan min?” she teased, smiling at him over her shoulder.

“More than pass,” he purred, striding away from Sif to go to Lauren, take her hand, and bow deeply over it. “You are so stunning, my love.”

A light blush pinked her cheeks. “Thank you, kind sir,” she smiled and bobbed a little curtsey.

“It’s such a unique dress,” Annekke murmured. “You will be the envy of all the women.”

“And Lady Sif will be second,” Anitra smiled, gazing at Sif’s red lace. “How exquisite. What a pair they will make on your arm, my Lord,” she said to Loki.

“The most beautiful women in attendance,” Loki agreed. “Thank you, ladies. Enjoy the feast. We will see you in the morning.”

“Oh, I…” Lauren bit her lip.

“What darling?” Loki frowned.

“It’s alright, my lady,” Annekke winked. “We will see everything is prepared and waiting.”

Lauren blushed and shot Loki a glance. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

“What are you up to?” Loki asked.

“A surprise and I’ll thank you to keep from spoilin’ it by askin' questions you don't need to!”

She gave him such a look, Loki couldn’t help but laugh. “Alright! Alright. I won’t ask.” The twins giggled as they returned to the bedroom and bath beyond to clean up, while Loki led Lauren to Sif. “Well, my heart? Do you give final approval?”

“I certainly do. Sif you look wonderful!” Lauren said as she took Sif’s hands.

“Thank you. We’ve decided if anyone should ask, it’s your fault I look like this,” Sif snickered.

Lauren giggled. “I’ll gladly take the blame.”

“Darling?” Loki held out her dagger.

Lauren’s eyes widened. “Even now?”

“You should get used to wearing it.” Loki flicked his fingers. A thigh sheath, unseen beneath her skirt, appeared on her thigh, and he stepped closer to show her the opening in her dress where he slipped the dagger and secured it in place. “Easily accessible should you need it.”

“I wear one as well,” Sif said, patting her thigh. “Usually,” she glared a Loki.

He gave his fingers a secondary flick, and she nodded her thanks. “Lauren was curious to know how one could fight in such clothing.”

Sif nodded slowly in understanding. “This dress is too tight to fight in with any success, so the first thing would be to open the seams, giving yourself the ability to move freely. Then it would be about holding an attacker off long enough for help to arrive. Loki?”

“Mm?” he hummed, distracted by the bareness of Lauren’s back beneath his palm.

“Come at me.” Sif waved him forward.

He shrugged and stepped forward, only to nearly take the heel of her hand to his nose.

“Nose, solar plexus, foot, and groin will incapacitate your assailant long enough for you to get away. If that fails, stab them in soft tissue.” The dagger from her thigh appeared in her hand, and Sif flipped it so the hilt pointed down before jamming it in Loki’s thigh, stomach, and the toward his throat. “All will do damage, allowing you to get away.”

“I’m so glad I could participate,” Loki gasped.

Lauren laughed. “You’ll live. Thank you, Sif. Tomorrow I may not say it, but for now, thank you for the lesson.”

“Anytime,” Sif agreed.

“Well, now that you’ve taught my wife to beat me up, let’s go eat,” Loki chuckled, shooing them toward the door.

Lauren scooped Socks into her arm and took Loki's with the other. “Let’s. I’m starvin’.”

Next Chapter

#Of Blood and Roses #Loki x Lauren #loki #Loki Laufeyson #loki fanfiction #god of mischief #god of mischief fanfiction #asgard au #southern belle

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ndrv3haven · 5 years

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This is my submission dedicated to @kibasniper for @danganevents valentines fic exchange. Sorry I was a little late, some things came up. It’s my first time writing for this pairing, and I hope you like it!

It was a relatively decent day for Kaede Akamatsu. At school, they had to pair up for a project and she got a good partner for once… or so she thought.

Tenko Chabashira was walking besides her, complaining about their male classmates’ behavior. She often had the tendency to look down on men and be highly critical of every little thing they did… Then again, she also had this ‘little’ infatuation for girls, specifically Himiko which scared Kaede a bit; but when she found herself side by side with her she noticed that Tenko was a much more pleasant company than she would have expected. They made small chat about all sorts of things, the blonde being especially careful to not mention the opposite gender.

It proved to be fairly easy, since the discussion was mainly about Neo-Aikido and how people tend to often misunderstand its importance. Soon enough, the conversation shifted onto her achievements and love for the arts, Kaede listening low key amazed; firstly, because of the awards in question and how unbelievable they were compared to her own, and secondly because how immersed she seemed to be. It was as if everything else ceased to exist, and that fact reminded her once again how unusual her classmates could sometimes be.

“Kaede, what do you think? Would you be able to train with me someday?” She didn’t know how their talk got to that point since she wasn’t fully paying attention, but the question slightly baffled her.

“Um… Of course! Though I’m not familiar at all with Aikido, so I’m not that good…”

“Woaah!! You actually said yes?! I mean, I really didn’t expect you to! Every time I would ask Himiko she’d always say it’d be too tiring for her…” There she goes again with Himiko. She was all over her every single moment of the day, and Kaede was questioning why that wasn’t the case at the moment.

“Speaking of Himiko, why didn’t you pair up with her for the project?”

“…She didn’t want to.”

“Oh…” the silence that followed was more saddening than awkward, since Tenko slumped in her posture and looked like a dejected little puppy. Not that she could be blamed for that, as her crush didn’t hesitate to reject her, it seemed.

“But that doesn’t matter!! I mean, you just told me you’d be willing to train! So that makes me really happy, you didn’t ask anything bad!!!” her sudden reaction and exclamation points startled Kaede a bit, but managed to shrug it off by offering her a slightly nervous smile. Out of nowhere, she got an idea that might help break the ice for the project.

“Say, wouldn’t it be a good idea to hang out somewhere before we start? I have a place in mind-“

“OOOOH!! We could have a picnic! My house is close by, I happen to have sandwiches and everything we need prepared!!” …She wasn’t going to ask further. But it would be fairly easy to guess why she’d keep a huge amount of food available with Himiko around.

As Tenko said, walking to her home didn’t take too long; not only that, but she also eagerly invited Kaede inside. It was common courtesy, yet she still felt a little out of place since her and Tenko hadn’t really spoken that much. The interior was decorated normally, a thing one wouldn’t quite expect from the Ultimate Aikido Master. Of course, there were some martial arts motifs lying around.

With a quick ‘I’ll be right back’ the slightly shorter girl disappeared into the kitchen, swiftly returning with two decently sized lunch boxes. When meeting Kaede’s gaze, she offered her a wide smile, excitement visible in her eyes. “But there’s no picnic without a picnic mat!” Apparently she had one… lying right on the couch??

“T-Tenko… Did you actually prepare everything knowing you’ll get paired up with someone and… ask them to have a picnic?”

“O-o-o-of course not!!!! This just happened to be random, see?? I didn’t even know what kind of sandwiches you like, so I totally wasn’t prepared for this!!” at this point, her face was clearly redder than usual and nervous droplets of sweat dripped from her chin which surprised the blonde a bit since it was such an unusual sight. But then, it finally clicked.

“…You got this ready for Himiko, didn’t you?”

“W-what, no!!! I mean, not that I wouldn’t want to, but no!!” her lightning fast response gave Kaede all she needed to know.

“Look… It’s okay. Even if Himiko didn’t want to hang out with you, which I’m not really sure why,” oh, she definitely knew why “you don’t have to pretend you’re happier than you actually are. It’s alright to be sad from time to time.”

“B-but… but…” Slouching in her posture, she let out a sigh and avoided the other’s eyes. “I just don’t understand… What did I do wrong…? Himiko and Angie always hang out, and… they leave me out all the time!! But maybe… maybe I really am annoying Himiko, there’s no way she can be possibly wrong!!”

“No, that’s not true! I’m sure she needs a little more time to get used to you, but you really aren’t annoying. It’s actually the opposite, since you’re so energetic you tend to rub off on others, and that’s a good thing!”

“But I must surely be bothering you right now! Instead of having a picnic, I’m just wasting your time with my excessive whining…”

“I don’t know how exactly I can convince you otherwise, but… wait, I have an idea. Since we have all weekend to finish our projects, why don’t we go hang out with Himiko and Angie? We could even have a picnic together, since you’ve prepared quite a bit of food and it’d be a shame if we wasted it. What do you say?” Kaede eagerly waited for a response, while Tenko didn’t hesitate to show her reluctance. After an incredibly short amount of time, she gave in, letting her elation take over.

“YES!! And it won’t be only me and Himiko, so that way… but are you sure you want to? I don’t want to involve you in my problems because you felt that you had no choice…”

“Look, this is my choice. I may not have spoken too much with either of them, but that’s why we could try hanging out! It doesn’t hurt to get to know each other better, and this is also a good opportunity for Himiko to warm up to you!” she tried to convey her excitement into speech, yet there were some things better left to Tenko and her seemingly limitless energy. “…of course, I do like picnics too, so…” mumbling, she smiled bashfully.

Letting her emotions out, she gleefully grabbed Kaede’s hands and thanked her, while also reminding her of how she’ll make sure the picnic would be enjoyable for all. A quick call was all it needed to convince Angie, who took it upon herself to carry Himiko along. It would be no easy task, but something assured Kaede they'd show up; she couldn't quite tell what that something was, though.

Trying to lower Tenko's eagerness to sprint out the door turned out to be a difficult challenge. Soon enough, she calmed down and walked besides Kaede as calm as she could... which was definitely not that.

Soon enough, they made it to the park where Angie, Himiko and Atua apparently, waited for them. Laying the mat and readying the sandwiches faster than one would say "nyeh", Tenko just couldn't contain herself. Kaede mostly just sat and watched, steering the conversation from men whenever she could. The food was amazing, even Atua praised them from wherever he was, according to Angie. Himiko grinned slightly while slowly munching on hers, and that meant the world to Tenko.

A few minutes of small chat turned into hours, and meaningless words took the form of secrets and confessions. The evening's rays of sun highlighted the small group of girls, giving the shortest one a headache. The rest answered to her complaints and parted, hurrying to their respective homes as it had gotten quite late. The gentle smiling Kaede and the overexcited Tenko once again found themselves walking besides each other. This time though, there were things that needed to be said.

"Kaede, thank you so much!! I really wouldn't have gone through with this idea alone, how can I possibly repay you?!"

"Geez, Tenko... You're talking as if I did something actually meaningful; instead I just hung out with my friends, no big deal."

"Aaahhh, you're too kind! I certainly don't deserve someone as good or pretty as you..."

"P-pretty?? I wouldn't really say that... "

"It's true!! And spending this day with you... has made me realize something." It was hard to believe Tenko actually used a serious tone, and by the looks of it she even attempted to look Kaede in the eyes, but immediately failed and avoided her gaze, wearing a thoughtful expression.

"I've realized there are people other than Himiko... and that, maybe, I didn't like her as much as I thought... What I mean is... Waaaah, I can't say it!" her face was tomato colored, and her nervousness made itself visible with her seemingly quivering lower lip.

"It's okay. I'm sure you'll be able to say it someday. You're strong, and I believe in you!" it was more than obvious what she was meaning to confess, yet Kaede was thankful she couldn't do it. She was not quite sure of her feelings for Tenko, and she didn't know how her vague answer would affect the other. Fortunately, Tenko reacted well to her encouragement and nodded; her motivated self back once again.

Of course, maybe with a little more time, she'd consider other options as well.

#ndrv3 #drv3 #kibasniper #danganevents #tenkaede #kaede akamatsu #tenko chabashira #valentine's fic exchange 2019

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sharengayonline · 3 years

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LG’s leather-wrapped G4 is no dominatrix, but it does dominate

Sharengay Trang Tin Tức Độc Đáo VIDEO LG’s leather-wrapped G4 is no dominatrix, but it does dominate

“The LG G4 is the best smartphone of 2015, and it’s camera is so good that it often outperforms the iPhone 6 Plus.”

Pros

Bạn đang xem: LG’s leather-wrapped G4 is no dominatrix, but it does dominate

Bright screen with gorgeous contrast

Excellent camera performance

Shooting in RAW and Manual mode

Removable battery and MicroSD card slot

Leather battery cover rocks

Cons

Still made of plastic

UX features are a mixed bag

Battery life is average

Speaker quality is weak

“Life’s Good” is LG’s tagline, but life has been tough for the company’s mobile division. Its archrival Samsung has captured a big chunk of the phone market, and LG has spent several years chipping away at Samsung’s mighty presence.

The Nexus 5 and G3 proved that LG could play with the big boys, and the G4 expands on that notion, improving features that optimize the user experience in tangible ways. With an impressive camera and more user-friendly software, the G4 makes a strong case for being the dark horse smartphone that could make waves and surprise many in 2015.

Do the right thing, choose the leather model

To own an LG G4 with a plastic rear cover should be a crime. It’s like ordering a new BMW with a cloth interior: a decision that’ll save you cash on the day, but one you’ll question every time you get in the car later on. Unlike Samsung and more like Vertu, LG has used real leather on the G4, and it feels fantastic; it’s warm, soft, tactile, and classy. It’s a world apart from the cold indifference you get from a plastic-backed G4.

It’s not annoying either. There are never any fingerprints to clean off, it doesn’t cling to the inside of your jeans pocket, and is apparently very hard wearing. For the past few weeks, the G4 has gone case-less in my pocket and bag, and the leather (and screen, actually) have suffered no ill-effects. The leather will undoubtedly bed in with age, but there’s no evidence of that just yet, and it hasn’t lost its sheen.

LG has got the colors right too. The brown leather complements the matt-silver rear controls beautifully, and the phone goes very well with the darker brown leather used for the strap on the gold Watch Urbane. Using the two together looks great, and is one of the first times I’ve ever matched two pieces of tech with each other based on color and material choice.

Showstopping camera

To give the G4 a thorough workout, it recently accompanied me on a long weekend away, where its photographic ability, battery, and general use could be explored in a variety of situations. There’s little to say about how it handles email, web surfing, and calls — because it does them effortlessly. The Snapdragon 808 processor is more than capable enough to keep up, although under heavy usage — I’ve used it for VR in a headset, for example — it can still make the device pretty toasty, but never to the point where it’s uncomfortable or a danger.

The camera is stunning, and did everything I could have wanted. There is absolutely no reason to carry another camera, or even choose a different phone, if photos are your priority. Day or night, inside or out, and in challenging environments it performed flawlessly. There were moments I wanted to capture during my weekend, and I’m pleased the G4 was my camera of choice to do so.

A small concert venue with bright stage lights looking out onto a dark auditorium isn’t the ideal place to take good pictures. Even without switching to manual mode, the G4’s auto settings and the laser autofocus made cool shots possible. Several are shared here, and come straight off the phone. With a little editing, each looks superb.

It’s the same with pictures taken around the city at night, and of sunsets. These were the times where it was possible to play with manual mode, which is hampered only by the fixed f/1.8 aperture — how great would it be to adjust this number? Using the G4 to shoot video did reveal the spot autofocus can be overzealous if left unattended, and results improved when the setting was turned off.

Ignore the slightly uninteresting design

The battery performance has remained steady at a little over a day, but the VR video really did suck the power, and could easily eat 20 to 30 percent in 20 minutes. I’ve also become used to using LG’s Smart Bulletin board, which slides in from the left of the main home screen and shows calendar entries, LG Health, and a music widget. It’s not revolutionary, but it’s attractively presented and easy to access.

Xem thêm: Lenovo IdeaPad S145 Review – $200 Laptop – Gaming Emulation Work Entertainment

If there’s a problem with the G4, it’s that it doesn’t visually standout, despite the leather back and slight curve to the body. It’s very similar to the G3, and can’t quite match the Samsung Galaxy S6 in terms of cool design. Ignore this, choose a leather clad version, and revel in owning a fantastic flagship smartphone with a camera that takes showstopping shots with ease.

Original review continues below:

Curvy, not flexy

LG likes curves. Every phone it launches seems to stick to that design philosophy, and the G4 essentially maintains its predecessor’s overall look. The contoured back is the same angle, and while slightly taller and wider, the G4 doesn’t deviate from the angular top and bottom. The corners are less rounded and the edges slope outward just enough to give it a slightly inverted look upon closer inspection.

Unlike Samsung, LG hasn’t abandoned plastic, nor a removable back. The back is made of a metal and plastic compound mixture, except it’s clear this cocktail is skewed toward the latter. A patterned design is etched into the metallic and ceramic backs to add some flair. Since gold is in vogue these days, LG got into the act and dipped into that as well, along with white and dark gray versions.

The removable back does serve more than a functional purpose for what lies underneath (battery, SIM, and MicroSD), since it’s also used as a way to personalize and augment the phone’s appearance. The full grain leather battery covers are a stylish turn for LG — in a good way. At its launch event in New York, LG noted that it used the same vegetable tanning process for its leather that luxury brands like Louis Vuitton and Coach are known to use. Using full grain, rather than genuine leather, also makes the G4 is more durable, so fading and age give it character. Brown, black, beige, and sky blue versions are already confirmed, along with the yellow and crimson red versions shown in New York.

Having all these back cover options means they can be swapped, so it would be no problem to buy a white G4 and tack on a blue leather battery cover later. My review unit didn’t include one, but after some hands-on time with a few of them in New York, I was impressed. The leather is smooth and silky soft. Every detail of the leather backing, right down to the stitching, is well executed. I would likely switch to the black one when given the chance, personally.

On the front is a 5.5-inch quad HD IPS Quantum Display with the same resolution of 2,560 × 1,440 pixels and pixel density of 538ppi as last year. LG gave the front a slight curve it calls Slim Arc, which is noticeable when looking at the G4 directly from its side. The slight curve makes the phone more comfortable to hold in your hand. The screen is also brighter, both by default and at full brightness, a necessary design tweak to rectify the duller output of the G3. LG says it also has 20 percent greater color reproduction and 50 percent better contrast. In our comparisons to the Galaxy S6 and iPhone 6 Plus, LG’s screen definitely held its own or outperformed the competition.

Under the hood

Playing it safe, LG opted not to go with Qualcomm’s Snapdragon 810 processor, which has been dogged by concerns over excessive heating. Instead, it’s the Snapdragon 808 chip that’s inside — which is still a powerful hexa-core processor, though LG hasn’t really explained why it made the change other than to say the chipset is “optimized” for the G4’s features.

There’s no doubt the G4 is the best handset LG has made to date.

There is 3GB of RAM and 32GB of internal storage to help the cause, along with a 16-megapixel rear camera with improved optical image stabilization (OIS) and a color spectrum sensor – more on that later. Interestingly, LG chose to go with a Micro SIM card slot, rather than use the Nano SIM the iPhone and other Android phone manufacturers are starting to embrace. There is also a MicroSD slot (not present on competing phones) that is technically capable of supporting up to 2TB cards.

I don’t know if the Snapdragon 810 processor would’ve made a notable difference in the G4’s performance, but I had little to complain about with the 808. The phone is brisk, speedy, and dependable. I had no problem doing anything I would normally do on a smartphone. Streaming video was fine, downloading and uploading content was fine, and switching between multiple apps was fine. The phone did get a little hot, but never to a point where I had to question why.

Jessica Lee Star/Digital Trends

Compared to the Samsung Galaxy S6, which uses an octa-core processor, I didn’t notice a drop in overall performance. Both were equally fluid in the same respects, so LG may, in fact, be on the right track in suggesting users wouldn’t notice anything unusual. It’s also easier to compare the two because neither relies on gimmicky features, like they did in the past. Hardline smartphone users may notice intricacies and quirks that might set the G4 back, but I suspect the average person will carry on without missing a beat.

If I did have something to point a finger at, it would be the speaker, found on the rear. It’s easily among the weakest links of the phone’s design, and while the G4’s curved back helps the sound escape when laid flat, fidelity is not in the same league as the HTC One M9.

Software

The DT Accessory Pack

Up your game and the get the most out of your gear with the following extras, hand-picked by our editors:

Creative Sound Blaster Roar: Portable Speaker ($130)

SanDisk – Ultra 128GB microSDXC ($90)

LG G4 Spigen Case ($21)

LG has taken a restrained approach to its software this year, like Samsung. Running on Google’s Android Lollipop 5.1 operating system out of the box, LG’s UX 4.0 user interface features are blended in so everything remains simple. The idea was to include features that make life with the phone easier. Some of LG’s better ideas include faster scrolling through the Gallery app and Event Pocket, an app that can unify calendars from various apps into one place. Those who live and die by their calendars may find this a convenient way to aggregate Facebook event invites with details that can be dragged and dropped from other messaging apps.

Smart Notice is supposed to be more personalized and contextual, offering more than simple weather and traffic updates. By learning my habits, it would ostensibly know that I don’t have to commute to work (I work from home), and prioritize weather and phone usage alerts instead. Perhaps it needed more time to get to know me, because I found it to be too predictable every day, regardless of where I was or what I was doing.

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The Quick Help widget is found as a question mark next to Smart Notice. It’s designed to be a mini search engine for the G4 itself, but for whatever reason, none of the queries I tried yielded results. Simple things like “calendar” and “color spectrum” drew blanks.

The true value in LG’s software experience is the bare minimum of alterations it offers. Icons and menus clearly received the Lollipop treatment with flatter designs and vibrant colors. The Settings menus are clear, concise, and easy to navigate. There’s a level of simplicity here that’s easy to appreciate, even if it’s not always patently obvious. I liked the general look and feel of the software more than any features LG added because its apps and features didn’t impact on my daily usage like they were intended to, and tended to only work with other LG apps. Not everyone wants to use LG Health or LG’s Music app. Some of us use Moves and Spotify. In any case, if you ignore some of LG’s apps, much like you’ve ignored some of Samsung or Apple’s apps, you’ll be better off.

This might be the best smartphone camera

The G4’s camera is unquestionably its crowning feature — And it should be, considering that it sports a 16-megapixel sensor, an f/1.8 aperture lens with OIS 2.0 built-in, and a color spectrum sensor. The latter feature is unique to smartphones, and its purpose is to measure the ambient lighting conditions from both the source of the light and where objects are reflected in the scene. This is on top of the sensor’s ability to capture more realistic color tones.

The G4 has one of the best smartphone cameras on the planet.

These features, coupled with the excellent controls in Manual mode, give the G4 one of the best smartphone cameras on the planet. Focusing is very quick, particularly when conditions are bright enough for the lens and sensor to lock on. The Depth of field capturing is impressive, despite the lack of any real optical zoom. And yes, color composition is superb, producing not only vibrant images, but consistently good ones that maintain their tonality after being transferred or shared.

Low-light shooting is perhaps the best available on any smartphone at this point and time, but there is a catch. LG keeps things basic with three distinct shooting modes: Simple, Auto, and Manual. The first two are very similar, except that Auto shows the heads-up display options. White balance, ISO, and shutter are automatically chosen, like any other smartphone camera does. LG claims that users can still expect better results because the color spectrum sensor is still doing its thing. This is generally true, but to fully appreciate what the camera and sensor are capable of, it’s best to learn the Manual mode.

Here, I could toggle the white balance, ISO, shutter, metering, and choose between auto-exposure lock (AE-L) or manual focus (MF). Adjusting any of the settings shows what the photo would look like in real time. Users who might be intimidated by going manual may find that one factor to be the most inviting. Even someone with years of photography experience like myself very much appreciated seeing that.

The photos the G4 captured were impressive across the board. Being able to shoot in RAW was even better, given how much extra detail the sensor was able to take in.

Video capture in 4K or 1080p is fine. You can’t really tinker with image settings before shooting a clip though. I tried to set up a low-light video clip by toggling the different metrics, but once I tap record, everything went automatic, so it was all for naught.

Battery life

Samsung got some flak for not going with a removable battery, whereas LG may earn praise for sticking with it. That’s subjective, of course, since replacing a battery isn’t something every user feels the need to do. The 3,000mAh battery inside performs well enough, but I wouldn’t consider it to exceptionally good. Basic usage saps little, but once more intensive tasks come into play, the juice starts dripping noticeably.

Jessica Lee Star/Digital Trends

Not to say that the G4 guzzles battery life because it’s not that bad, it’s only that intensive tasks seem to take more out of the processor than LG lets on. For example, streaming video remotely via Plex chomped on my battery life by a noticeable margin. Even when I initially set up the phone, I lost 20 percent in less than two hours because of everything that had to be downloaded and installed. Overall performance is fine, but for very intense processes, the G4 fares no better than its competitors.

Conclusion

There’s no doubt the G4 is the best handset LG has made to date, not just because of the components, but also because of the thoughtfulness that went into it. Little things, like a brighter screen with better contrast, prettier interface, and useful software tweaks, stood out because I interacted with them every day. For me, the curved back and edges made it easier to pick up the phone off the table, as well, and hold it. The Knock On double tap to wake from sleep has always been a useful feature. Double pressing the volume down button to instantly launch the camera was great for snapping selfies.

I can forgive the plastic design because real leather is an alternative. If not for that, I would dock LG for taking the easy way out. Using real leather in a way that doesn’t cut corners sends the right message, much like the other moves made with the G4. Whether or not consumers will take it to heart and splurge for the G4 is going to be interesting to watch, but we haven’t been this impressed with a smartphone, and it’s camera, for some time.

Highs

Bright screen with gorgeous contrast

Excellent camera performance

Shooting in RAW and Manual mode

Removable battery and MicroSD card slot

Leather battery cover rocks

Lows

Still made of plastic

UX features are a mixed bag

Battery life is average

Speaker quality is weak

Editors’ Recommendations

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Best 4th of July phone sales and deals for 2021

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easyfoodnetwork · 4 years

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Take Anything You Want on Your Next Road Trip With This Electric Cooler

Getty Images

The Cigreen plugs into your car, allowing you to keep food frozen for weeks on the road

I have no idea what to pay for anything anymore. Once upon a time, when old-normal was the law of the land, I had an innate sense of the value of a pack of eggs, the right amount to pay for a casual dinner for two, my upper limit on specialty ingredients, exactly how far I could abuse a company lunch budget. Some would call me stingy, but I’d define it more precisely as “conservatively price sensitive.” In other words, I’d crush on The Price Is Right.

The COVID-19 crisis has now completely rewritten the financial rules that I once held sacred — but I’m rolling with it. A 100 percent markup on eggs? That’s reasonable in a time of global crisis. Bulk snack orders from Nuts.com? Seems like a good investment. Takeout five days a week? We need to support restaurants.

But even with the world on fire, $400 for a cooler seems excessive. I’m not one to splurge on gadgets, especially something that sits idle in a closet for months at a time, waiting patiently until I have an opportunity to travel again. I’ll get by on that insulated lunch bag from Marshalls, thank you very much.

Then came a two-week cross-country road trip in the middle of a global pandemic. Suddenly, a really nice cooler became not just alluring, but imperative.

At the end of August, my fiance and I finished up a well-timed six-month house-sitting gig in Los Angeles and decided it was time to make our way back home to Brooklyn. We drove, and decided to avoid contact with other humans as much as possible by camping in national parks and booking extremely remote Airbnbs (indoor vs. outdoor toilets was a serious consideration). To minimize visits to crowded restaurants, we planned to cook the whole way. We just needed a cooler for storing essential ingredients. We already owned a few basic options from picnics and day trips in the past, but then my brother-in-law (100 percent the type to splurge on gadgets) offered to loan us the luxe Cigreen model.

Let me be clear: This is not your run-of-the-mill Igloo. Unlike a generic cooler, which provides enough insulation to keep food cold for a few days with the help of a few gallons of ice, the Cigreen cooler plugs into a car’s auxiliary power outlet, aka the “cigarette lighter.” It uses juice from the car battery to not just store but freeze foods down to 0 degrees Fahrenheit, or even heat them to 130 degrees (though I haven’t tested the heating function), all controlled from a schmancy touchscreen. It doesn’t require messy refills of ice or annoying space-stealing freezer packs. Get it cold enough before turning off the car for the night, and you can rely on it to stay moderately chill until morning, even on a stifling, triple-digit summer night. You can always bring it inside an Airbnb to plug it into a wall outlet too.

While the interior isn’t massive, a user can make good use of the space available, since there aren’t any bulky freezer packs to take up precious room. It’s spacious enough for a few deli containers sitting upright, along with a can or two of soda and a few other fixings. It slides perfectly into the middle rear seat of a car, allowing easy access for a passenger riding shotgun, especially since the lid unlatches easily from the front and naturally swings ajar. Compared to a traditional cooler, which can be too deep to reach from the front seat and awkward to open, the Cigreen is far superior for snacking on the move. It also fits snugly among a bajillion boxes and bags crammed into every corner of a midsize SUV (in case I’m not the only person foolish enough to road trip and also move across the country during a pandemic).

It is, succinctly, a cooler cooler.

When my brother offered it to us, what he said was, “You should take our cooler. We just used it on a road trip too. It’s super useful for keeping food fresh for weeks. It plugs into the car so you can keep food cold for weeks at any temperature you want.” What I heard was, “You can have milk and eggs and butter everywhere you go, and still have room to lug everything else you own! You can refresh yourself while driving with an ice-cold (but not wet) LaCroix anytime of day! You can pre-cook meals before camping! This cooler will make a hellish slog across the virus-riddled wasteland that has become of America into a reasonably enjoyable, reasonably safe pleasure cruise!” He didn’t have to repeat himself. We took the cooler immediately.

On the road, we treated ourselves to fried eggs with buttered toast in the mornings, pasta salad with super-cheesy pesto for lunch, and avocado toast with fully loaded salads for dinner. We preserved a sourdough starter to bake a loaf halfway through the trip. We stored produce from a Denver farmers market, snacked on charcuterie near the World’s Only Corn Palace in South Dakota, and dug into cottage cheese while sitting on the bleachers of the Field of Dreams set in the middle of Iowa (an admittedly weird meal). The few flaws we encountered with the cooler — accidentally freezing hard-boiled eggs, changing the display temperature to Celsius and not knowing how to change it back — were clearly user errors.

The best part, though, was that we actually saved money, and not just because we got the cooler on loan. Two weeks’ worth of takeout for two people could have easily topped $400.

With our epic road trip in the rearview mirror and the Cigreen returned to its rightful owner, I don’t plan to need another extreme electrified cooler in the immediate future. On my next trip, I hope to be able to enjoy more stops at restaurants (assuming there are still roads and restaurants by the time this is all over).

Yet the Cigreen cooler changed the way I travel — probably forever. I’ll always want eggs and butter and milk on future road trips. I’ll want ingredients to make leisurely meals in Airbnb kitchens and barebones campsites. As someone who enjoys cooking, I won’t want to give that up while traveling, whether there’s a pandemic on or not.

I’ll tell myself it will help me save money on expensive restaurant meals and achieve self-reliance wherever I go, but really I just want fresh eggs every morning without having to put on pants. I can’t put a price on that.

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/339GWan https://ift.tt/3cLdieU

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The Cigreen plugs into your car, allowing you to keep food frozen for weeks on the road

Then came a two-week cross-country road trip in the middle of a global pandemic. Suddenly, a really nice cooler became not just alluring, but imperative.

It is, succinctly, a cooler cooler.

The best part, though, was that we actually saved money, and not just because we got the cooler on loan. Two weeks’ worth of takeout for two people could have easily topped $400.

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/339GWan via Blogger https://ift.tt/2HF35Fi

#Blogger #cooking #Eater #food #recipes

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michelemoore · 4 years

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Takhuk

April 29, 2020

Michele Moore Veldhoen

“Tis good to laugh. Yer gotta laugh and laugh out loud,” said the leprechaun. “You can cry if you want to but laughin’s better.” Jacqueline Edgington, Happy Jack

With so much stress and sorrow in our world these days, we need to turn to Happy Jack and to Mel Brooks who said, "Humour is just another defense against the universe." Right now, we definitely need humour. Lots and lots of humour. I hope you get a laugh or two here today. Take care.

A RUST BUCKET, A GAS GUZZLER, AND A LAND YACHT

Being that most Albertans enjoy a special relationship with their cars and trucks, and being that so many of them are sitting idle in our garages these days, I offer you a sentimental and fond reflection of three cars I once owned and that are rumbling, overheating, and plowing through the unoccupied regions of my mind.

MY FIRST CAR

1963 Chevy Impala. Price: $100.00

It was whitish (I’m sure it was the original paint job, thus, it was whitish). The interior was red leather, with a fair bit of deterioration (tears in the seats big enough to conceal a machete). This vintage look was nicely complemented with the flaking red rust trim around the wheel wells and along the door edges. The source of the rust was the bottom of the trunk which had a hole so massive I couldn’t keep a spare tire in there because it would have fallen out. Oh, and the exhaust preferred to disperse itself through the car interior rather than the exhaust pipe, which come to think of it, was missing. Therefore, the windows had to remain open at all times. In winter, this made for some frostbitten trips down Elbow Drive from my home in Southwood to my high school on 17th Avenue southwest.

I bought that rust bucket from my brother for $100 bucks cash. Money I saved from my cashier job at K-Mart. When my brother offered to sell me the Impala, I wasn’t old enough yet to get a license, but I bought it anyway. I had my priorities. Owning and driving my own car was numero uno. That car, any car, would do. It was about freedom of movement, man, and being in control of my own destiny.

The Impala sat on the driveway of my house for several months, waiting for me to turn sixteen. (I already knew how to drive. I learned when I was twelve and competed against my brother and cousins in a demolition derby. There were three cars in that event. We smashed them all up pretty good and walked away without a bruise and everything we needed to know about driving.)

It would be impossible for me to overstate the pride and satisfaction I felt driving that dilapidated, afflicted, contraption. I could compare it to the obvious delight a young dog exhibits when it has fetched its’ first stick. I could compare it to a young child who has just served his mother his first Easy Bake cake, or has just received his first Student of the Month award, or has just scored his first goal, his lungs bursting with so much pride and love he is afraid to exhale or he might cry. Or that feeling, for which there are no words, a new parent gets holding her first newborn child. It was like that.

My peacock feathers were on display every day I drove that car into my school’s parking lot. I was completely oblivious to the much finer, rust free, sporty type cars driven by other students at Western Canada High. (Which, for the record, was where the Mount Royal kids went to school, so you can imagine the cars.)

I will admit though, my pride was dampened (literally, with sweat) by the relief I felt every time I completed that trip to school accident free. And when I say relief, I mean relief from the kind of heart pounding that feels like your teenage son is pounding his drum set under your rib cage.

You see, aside from the rust, and the missing exhaust pipe, the Impala had another issue. This one was with the steering. The problem was that the steering wheel had more play in it than a car load of toddlers. Handling the Impala felt like floating. On big ocean waves. In a dime store rubber raft. Keeping her safely between the lane lines while negotiating the many curves and bends of Elbow Drive was like trying to walk a straight line on the midway at the Calgary Stampede. It can be done, but it takes a great deal of concentration and constant course adjustments. After every trip, I felt dazed and amazed that I got that boat to school or home without incident. I have no idea how many close calls I had, but honking car horns occasionally echo in my memory bank.

As big a thrill as it was, driving that old rust bucket, when my father offered to sell me his car, I was ready for an upgrade. He may also have pointed out that my Impala had used up most of its life and would likely crater in the spring potholes.

MY SECOND CAR

1974 Oldsmobile Toronado. Price: $2,700.00

Teal blue with a white leather interior. She had all the bells and whistles and was in mint condition; after all, two staple items on my dad’s grocery list were Armour All and Turtle Wax. The price was steep, but dad let me pay off the purchase in monthly payments, interest free. Seems to me the payments were $120.00/month. Which was a good thing because, soon after taking ownership of that gas guzzling brute, all its’ bells and whistles stopped ringing and whistling. Repairs to power steering, electric windows, and transmissions are expensive. (Is the transmission a bell or a whistle?) For the next couple of years I gave away most of my typist’s salary in post-dated cheques to the local mechanic, who kept me on the road.

Despite the Toronado barreling through all my entertainment and future education funds, I loved that car as much as I had loved the Impala. Whenever I was first in line at a red traffic light and there was another teenage driver in the lane beside me, on the green light I would put the pedal to the metal which often triggered a similar response in the other driver, who invariably behind the wheel of a hoppy little car that would leap ahead. The lead was short lived. I would keep my foot on the floor, and a few seconds later would wave at the driver as my 454 horsepower engine and I rumbled on by. Oh, how I reveled in the superiority of that elegant behemoth.

That magnificent machine, with her front wheel drive, could’ve plowed through a field of hay bales without slowing down or suffering a scratch. Once, in fact, while parked in front of my house on an icy winter street, a City of Calgary Transit bus came around the corner and slid into the back end of her. The grill of the bus was mangled, but the bus driver and I could not find a scratch, dent, or scrape on my bumper. After that, I wasn’t afraid to use the back end of that beast to push out of my way any car that had boxed me into a parking spot.

Even when she malfunctioned, she did so in a spectacular fashion. Once, when driving west toward home on Anderson Road, white smoke began streaming out from under the hood. (Having watched too many Smoky and the Bandit type movies, I didn’t think steam, I thought SMOKE). I stepped on it, making for the nearest gas station. (Why I didn’t just stop on the side of the road right there and then remains a mystery.) Speeding up, of course, made the SMOKE/steam billow in huge cloud formations above the massive hood which meant that, when I roared into the gas station, the attendants watched a terrified teen/ woman in a pencil skirt and heels come flying out of the cloud screaming, “it’s gonna explode! It’s gonna explode!”

After she had cooled off and had her radiator refilled and later repaired, I kept driving, and repairing, her for several more years. She just had too much charisma to give up on.

Unfortunately, the day came when I had to come down from my high horse-powered white leather perch and take up a different, upholstered one behind the wheel of another monstrous hunk of steel that had none of the sex appeal of the Toronado, but did have four doors. An important feature when you have a couple of toddlers in car seats.

MY THIRD CAR

Early ‘80’s Chrysler Imperial – price: Giving up my Toronado

I was not, at all, happy about giving up my Toronado, but my husband was not happy about the repairs, so I acquiesced. The regret I felt when he brought home the Chrysler was worse than the regret I felt the second time I cut my own hair. (I had beginner’s luck the first time.) (For the record, this was not a coronavirus haircut, it was a different era entirely.)

That land yacht was plain blue and boring, but it became my home away from home and a place of joy and abundance. On any given day you could always find a blanket, some stuffies and snacks between my two little boys in the backseat, who sang, laughed, wrestled, and slept in the back of that cavernous heap of iron. Nothing could touch them back there behind me. Not even me, which they knew perfectly well when they were deliberately annoying one another.

Although that dreadfully dull car was a reliable steel fort within which my children were safely transported, I did not lose any sleep when she was retired because I had begun to notice that no one else on the road still drove cars the size of yachts. In fact, most people in the countryside where I lived drove trucks. And so, I got a Jeep and entered the modern era.

I could go on about the two Jeeps I drove over the next twenty or so years but each one went to one of my kids and they have better stories than me about their days in those bouncy go anywhere rides. I know on at least one occasion one of those jeeps went floating down the Kicking Horse River……

I bet you have a story or two about your old cars. Please share!

Onion rings in the car cushions do not improve with time. Erma Bombeck

www.thetreeswallow.com

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numberplates4u-blog · 5 years

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Audi Q8 review – a master of comfort and refinement

For Comfortable, luxurious and completely intuitive to drive despite its size Against Neither thrilling or exciting, may not be flamboyant enough for some Audi’s first coupe SUV isn’t the last word in driving thrills, but it serves up an easy to live with and satisfying package The Audi Q8 seems late to the big, coupe SUV party. BMW has been selling its swoopy-roofed 4x4, the X6, for ten years and Mercedes has been touting around the GLE Coupe for a couple of years, too. Even Lamborghini, hardly a company known for SUVs, has beaten Audi to the festivities with its Urus. However, if the long wait is what has created the Q8’s totally natural and effortless driving characteristics and impressive levels of refinement, then it was worth it. So, you aren’t going to find colossal levels of steering feel, an infinitely adjustable balance or deep levels of interaction within the Audi Q8, but then you wouldn’t really expect to. > Click here for our review of the new Porsche Cayenne Instead, the Audi Q8 feels like a well-developed, cohesive and dependable car. The balance between comfort and control is well judged, performance is ample, the cabin is a wonderful place to spend time and the technology enhances the experience rather than distracts you from driving. The only contentious aspects of the Q8 are its more exuberant styling and whether there’s any real advantage to its size and bulk over an A6 Avant. Image 2 of 22 Image 2 of 22 Audi Q8 in detail Performance and 0-60 time – Performance and speed is not the Q8’s forte, but it’s more impressive than it needs to be Engine and gearbox – The Q8 currently only comes with a 3-litre V6 diesel engine that’s helped by a mild hybrid system Ride and handling – The Q8 is not to be confused with a performance car, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t some enjoyment to be had MPG and running costs – Official MPG figures are impressive but you’ll need to put aside a lot to replace the big tyres Interior and tech – The Q8’s interior is packed with tech and gadgets, but it still looks modern and sleek Design – It might seem extravagant-looking in pictures, but the Q8 blends in with modern cars far better than you might expect Prices, specs and rivals Rather than starting with SE or Sport trim levels, like most of the Audi range, the Q8 comes straight in in S-line, usually a top spec trim. The S-line cars start at £65,040 and come with 21-inch wheels, adaptive dampers and air suspension, electrically adjustable and heated front seats, a mild hybrid system and, as you’d expect, four-wheel drive. There is a higher-specification Q8, called the Vorsprung – this new trim line, that debuted on the SQ7 in the UK, will be Audi’s top-level trim on its premium models. As standard, the Q8 Vorsprung comes with even bigger wheels than the S-line (22-inch in diameter), heated rear seats, all-wheel steering, a panoramic sunroof, Alcantara head lining and a Bang & Olufsen sound system. However, the Vorsprung is significantly more expensive as it starts at £83,040. Currently, there is only one engine available in the Q8, no matter what trim you select: a 3-litre turbocharged diesel V6 with 282bhp. That, somehow, means it’s called a 50 TDI in Audi’s new, baffling naming convention. Image 3 of 22 Image 3 of 22 The bastion of the SUV coupe segment, the BMW X6, in xDrive30d specification, takes the fight to the new Q8. At £63,825 the BMW is slightly cheaper than the Audi, and with the help of 309bhp from its 3-litre in-line six it’s faster to 62mph, too. The BMW hits the target speed in 5.8sec compared to the Audi’s 6.3sec. The only diesel version of the Mercedes-Benz GLE Coupe, the 350d in Night Edition Trim, is comparable on price with the Audi and the BMW at £63,860, and it too has a turbocharged six-cylinder. But with 254bhp and a 0-62mph time of 7.0sec, it’s the slowest of the three. Away from the three main premium German manufacturers, there aren’t such obvious rivals. The Range Rover Sport doesn’t have the same pumped-up coupe-looks as the Q8, it’s more of a conventional SUV, but at £67,500 and with 302bhp from its 3-litre diesel V6 it’s comparable on paper. Performance and 0-60 time Although it’s far from a necessity for the Q8 to be fast, it’s a welcome treat to find that Audi’s new SUV is far from slow. From behind the steering wheel it’s more sprightly than you’d expect from a diesel 4x4, especially one that weighs 2145kg, and that’s reflected in its 0-62mph time of 6.3sec. The Q8’s top speed is not electronically limited to 155mph as it doesn’t quite reach that threshold, topping out at 152mph. The Q8’s 3-litre V6 puts out 282bhp over a very diesel-like 3500 to 4000rpm rev range. The benefit to being an oil burner is the vast amount of torque it produces; from 2250 to 3250rpm it makes 442lb ft. Engine and gearbox The Audi Q8’s 3-litre V6 turbo diesel engine is supplemented by a 48-volt belt-driven small electric motor mounted on the front of the engine. Its main use is to aid the diesel engine under load to reduce turbo lag, but it also acts as a starter motor to smooth out the car’s start/stop function and adds charge to the 48V sub-system’s lithium-ion battery. When it comes to actually reducing lag, though, it’s not entirely successful. Press the throttle below 2500rpm and there is a significant pause before the car responds and eventually surges forward. It isn’t any worse than you would reasonably expect from a diesel SUV, but the promise of less lag from the mild hybrid system and that the Q8’s engine is very responsive above 3000rpm, and the delay you get at low rpm is rather disappointing. As is the 5000rpm red line that the engine won’t rev to; instead the gearbox changes up automatically, whether you’re in manual mode or not, at 4900rpm. These are the only criticisms of the Q8’s drivetrain, though; its performance is more than adequate, it’s very smooth and refined, its eight-speed automatic gearbox makes almost seamless shifts, the quattro system distributes torque to all four wheels without any fuss, and if you get a hint of noise from the engine it’s actually rather pleasant – not the rattly diesel sound you might have anticipated. Ride and handling Lets get it out of the way first: the Q8 is not a thrilling driver’s car, it will not get the adrenalin rushing, you will not be in the slightest bit tempted to explore its limits of grip and you won’t want to tear down a country road. It is not a performance car, it is not an evo car. However, the driving experience is not completely devoid of satisfaction; there is something fulfilling about just how natural the Q8 feels, how easy it is to adapt to and how relaxing it is to pilot. Initially, however, the steering seems too light. When guiding such a vast car – the Q8 is 96mm wider than a Mercedes S-class and 16mm longer than a Land Rover Discovery – you often want the steering weight to be meaty and to reflect the car’s mass. Instead the Q8 requires city car levels of effort to turn the wheel and, what’s more, the Vorsprung with a rear-wheel-steer system is hyper alert to your inputs around most corners. But without resorting to the different driver modes, where you can increase the steering weight, you become accustomed to the light steering, how easy it is to operate and how responsive it is, very quickly. The rest of the car requires very little familiarisation, it’s all so instinctive. There’s none of the side-to-side wobble that’s so common on cars with air suspension and the chassis keeps the body under control so, despite its large dimensions, it’s easy to place the Q8 accurately. There’s never any need to worry about grip, either, in true Audi quattro fashion. Image 5 of 22 Image 5 of 22 Such tight control and limited body roll hasn’t had a detrimental effect on the car’s comfort. The Q8 rides in a very luxurious manner with the suspension smoothing out many of the road’s imperfections, the stiff shell resisting any annoying quivers or shakes, and the soft seats cosseting you from anything the chassis can’t deal with alone. The 21-inch wheels on the Vorsprung Edition also make very little difference to the way the car rides. Unlike the SQ7 Vorsprung, where the 21-inch wheels make it very harsh, the Q8 has taller sidewalls and the only noticeable change over the S-line car is at higher speeds on rough roads where it starts to get a little more bouncy. There’s no doubt about it, the Q8 has many physical attributes that mark it out as a luxury car – plush leather seats, a cavalcade of technology, shiny interior materials – but in reality none of those things are what make it feel luxurious. Even the comfortable and refined way in which it rides is only partly what makes it feel so premium, because, in reality, the ease at which you can navigate any sort of road with absolute confidence and minimal fuss is what makes this car so relaxing to drive. That’s true luxury. MPG and running costs The official MPG figures for the Q8 suggest that over 40mpg will be achievable on a combined run. With a careful right foot that may well be possible, but we only managed low-30s during our drive. That said, even our economy results are impressive for an SUV that weighs more than 2000kg. The Q8’s huge wheels may not have a detrimental effect on the car’s comfort levels, but it does on the cost of tyres. The 285/45 R21 Hankooks that are standard on the S-line are over £200, while tyres that size from other brands are at least twice as much. The 285/40 R22 Continental Sport Contact 6 tyres on the Vorsprung are over £300 each. Interior and tech We’re often quite enamoured with modern Audi interiors thanks to their clean design, quality materials and usable, well-integrated technology like the Virtual Cockpit. However, compared to its other SUVs – the Q7 and Q5 – the Q8 is another leap forward in design and technology. The main change is the addition of another touchscreen that sits ahead of the gear selector and reduces the need for a lot of physical buttons. Two touchscreens could add an unwelcome level of complexity and frustration, while the reduction in easy-to-identify-and-press buttons could add dangerous levels of distraction. However, the lower screen is customisable so you can add shortcuts to all the functions you use most frequently, making basic functions incredibly easy. There’s also an audible and haptic signal every time you select something on either screen, and although not a replacement for a real button, the feedback really does mean you can spend less time focussing on the screens. As well as the greater amount of tech, software and screens, the interior still looks as clean, fuss-free, modern and appealing as other Audi models, while the materials and finish are just as high-quality as ever. Image 13 of 22 Image 13 of 22 Design In pictures and in isolation, the Q8 looks quite wild. Its concept car-like proportions, its massive grille with its chunky frame and its sleek low roof, thanks to its frameless doors, give it huge impact when you first catch sight of it. However, once out on the road, it isn’t quite as distinctive and it blends in with the surrounding cars almost instantly. Now, depending on what sort of person you are, that could be a good or a bad thing. The Vorsprung’s big, 22-inch wheels really suit the Q8’s proportions and help it look more like the concept from last year that hinted at the final Q8. It also helps that the Audi Sport wheels, with their deep centres and delicate, trident-shaped spokes, are an appealing design. The Q8’s party trick is its lights. The columns of LEDs that make up its rear lights and front DLRs animate, creating patterns at all four corners of the car every time you lock and unlock it. It’s totally pointless, but there’s no doubt it adds a sense of occasion whenever you approach the Q8. Image 10 of 22 Image 10 of 22 5 Sep 2018

https://www.evo.co.uk/audi/q8

#Cars

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privateplates4u · 5 years

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Audi Q8 review – a master of comfort and refinement

https://www.evo.co.uk/audi/q8

#Cars

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trentteti · 7 years

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Only a fool would predict what'll be on the LSAT. So here are our predictions ...

All right, the time is upon us. We are T-minus 2 days until the September 2017 LSAT is unveiled to a nation of law school hopefuls and, in the case of the fine people who contribute to this blog, LSAT instructors.

If you’re reading this, you’ve probably been studying for this moment for months on end. You’ve used past exams to guide your study. You’ve seen that, while there are only a few different kinds of Logical Reasoning questions, Logic Games, and Reading Comprehension passages that the LSAT returns to again and again, you never quite know which combination of those you’re going get on a given exam. The malevolent sorcerers who write this test can be quite unpredictable in that way.

So I’m going to put my LSAT knowledge and experience to the test and try to make some predictions about this upcoming exam. To try to divine, by means of reason and experience, what the logicians-who-use-their-powers-for-evil will include on the test this Saturday.

A major caveat before we begin: I’m wrong all the time. I thought this forgotten single would be Beyoncé’s biggest, most beloved song. I root for the San Diego Los Angeles Chargers, and before most seasons sincerely believe they will win the AFC West. For years, I thought the lyrics to Chumbawamba’s “Tubthumping” were, “He drinks a whiskey drink, he drinks a vodka drink. He drinks a vodka drink, he drinks a vodka drink.” I use it a bunch, but I still don’t know how to pronounce “eschew.” I know a lot about the LSAT, but maybe take what I say with a grain of salt.

With that said, let’s get to speculating!

Logical Reasoning

The typical Logical Reasoning section always goes the same way. You start out with some easy to mild questions. Then, by question 14 or 15, you start to get some more difficult and time-consuming questions and, then by the question 18 or 19, you’re given tough after tough question.

What does vary from section to section is what kind of questions you’re going to get. So let’s make some semi-educated guesses about that.

The first question on the first Logical Reasoning section of the last three exams has been a Resolve or Explain question. In fact, on most recent sections, you get a lot of these two question types at the beginning of the section. I’d expect this trend to continue on this exam. So get ready to start with the ‘splaining, and ease into the section with some of the easier types of question types on the LSAT.

I wouldn’t expect to see many Soft Must Be True questions on this exam. There are usually about five of these in a given exam, but on the June 2017 exam, there were ten. I’d be willing to wager that LSAC Soft Must Be Blew through its reserve of these questions on the last exam and won’t have many to use for this one.

I do predict that there will be a lot of Strengthen questions on this exam though. There are an average of eight of those on a given exam. But on the last one, there were a grand total of three. Expect this question type to reassert its dominance in a big way. I wouldn’t be surprised if there were as many as ten on this exam.

Finally, a trend I’ve noticed on recent exams is “hidden” conditional language. Most questions that involve diagramming haven’t used the super obvious “If A, then B; but only Cs are Bs” conditional language from tests of yore. Rather, there have been a lot of instances of less overt conditional statements. Statements like “Birthday clowns are alcoholics” and “Alcoholics cannot be trusted with children.” These can be diagrammed to “Birthday Clown → Alcoholic” and “Alcoholic → Not Trusted with Children,” allowing you to conclude that “Birthday Clowns → Not Trusted with Children.” Be on the lookout for these — identifying and diagramming them will make your job a lot easier on many Must Be True, Flaw, Parallel, Parallel Flaw, Sufficient, and Necessary questions you get.

But remember, some things never change on Logical Reasoning. You’ll get somewhere between four and eight Flaw questions. You will get exactly two Parallel questions and exactly two Parallel Flaw questions. You’ll get a handful of questions that involve understanding the structure of an argument — these being a few Main Point, a few Describe, and a few Role questions strewn about the exam. Be ready for these too.

Reading Comprehension

One prediction I can make with confidence — and I say this with proverbial hat in hand — is that Reading Comp is going to be tough. As an LSAT instructor, I sometimes feel like a parent forcing a recalcitrant child to eat his vegetables when reviewing Reading Comp with my students. Everyone hates reading these dry passages on obscure topics, but doing so is ultimately very healthful. Because it makes you a better reader — which is obviously an important skill for law school — but also because it helps prepare you for the section that has only gotten harder over the years. It’s also the longest section, based on the number of questions, so you have the most opportunity to earn (or fail to earn, if you didn’t have a diet of vegetables during your studies) points.

For Reading Comp, there’s really no such thing as an “easy” passage anymore. Our company has a rating system, from 1 (easy) to 5 (brutal), that we use to rate every LR question, RC passage, and logic game. And over the past six published LSATs, there have been zero passages we’ve classified as a “1” and only two passages we’ve classified as a “2” (or “mild”). Compare that to the five passages we’ve classified as a “4” (tough) and the six passages we’ve classified as a “5” (brutal), and you start to get the picture of the horrors LSAC is putting students through on this section.

My guess is that you’ll get one or two passages of “medium” difficulty to start it off. Then the third and fourth passages will be tough and brutal. The comparative passage is usually either among the easier passages of the section or the most difficult of the bunch. On most of the recent exams, it’s been among the easier — and in the last LSAT, it was one of the toughest — so I’m going to guess the comparative passage will be one of the easier passages in this section, and will probably be first or second.

As far as the topics, the LSAT is pretty much always good for one on the law and one on science. The other two cycle through topics like the arts (almost always an obscure artist doing something unconventional), history (often having to do with indigenous people in the pre-Columbus Americas), philosophy (which is when things get really weird — think the weird passage about meta-thoughts from the last LSAT), and the social sciences. My best guess is that you’re going to get a passage on arts — they’ve done music and interior design recently, so let’s say it’s going to be on literature — and a social sciences passage on some protest movement that seems somewhat similar to the current resistance movement — the LSAT loves to be somewhat topical.

Logic Games

A little recent history on the Logic Games section: In late 2014, after many years of really only including games that involved ordering and games that involved grouping, the test writers decided to start getting weird. On tests between 2014 and 2016, they started including super weird games that didn’t quite fit within the paradigms of ordering and grouping games. Think the worksite trading game of June 2014. Or the computer virus game of September 2016. Or the trading building game of December 2016. And let me just say, from the bottom of my heart, thank you for this, LSAC. It’s been a real pleasure to, days before the big test day, console the nerves of hundreds of anxious law school hopefuls about the possibility of getting an unconventional game on their exam.

BUT … then the test writers sort of stopped doing that. On the last two exams, the games sections have been straightforward. Everything’s been an ordering game or a grouping game. Nothing has been especially difficult, provided you have the basics of logic games down.

I would expect this to continue on the recent exam. And — this is probably the point at which my conjecture becomes irresponsible, but hear me out — I think this has more to do with external pressures facing LSAC than anything else. It’s no secret that the LSAT is losing ground to the GRE, as big-name schools like Harvard, Georgetown, and Northwestern have started to accept the GRE in lieu of the LSAT. For years, LSAC had a monopoly on the test people had to take to get into law school. When LSAC lacked competition, it could do annoying things that would anger a bunch of test takers. “Who cares what the students think? They have to take our exam and pay us a hefty application fee to do so!” these fat cats would scoff. Now that they have competition, my guess is they’re less inclined to do stuff that will sour large swaths of test takers on the exam. And — take it from me — nothing sours a bunch of people on the LSAT like a logic game that people view as unfair or overly difficult.

The LSAT is already doing things to try to make the test seem more ~chill~ than it used to. You can take it as many times as you want now. It’ll be offered more times throughout the year. It’s going digital. And I don’t see any reason why this trend wouldn’t manifest in the types of games that appear on the exam ether.

As far as the types of games, I think we’re going to see one basic, or 1:1, ordering game, since there’s almost always at least one of those. There hasn’t been an In & Out game in a few exams, so I imagine they’re going to dust off one of those for this exam. Unstable grouping games are another very common game, so I bet we’ll see one of those. And I think the hardest game of the lot will likely be a tiered ordering game. But, in all, I wouldn’t expect anything too tough or crazy on this one.

That said …

Finally, with all that said … don’t take these predictions too seriously. There’s a reason why we’re making them at the last possible moment, at a point at which you should no longer be studying and instead just relaxing and recharging before the big day.

Honestly, no matter what they put on this test, you’ll have the skills and strategies to answer it. There are fundamental concepts that translate across question types and sections of the LSAT, and if you’ve mastered those, you’ll be fine, no matter what they put on the exam. Do you know how to diagram conditional statements and use them to make transitive deductions? Do you have the common fallacies down pat? Are you able to recognize causal statements, and do you know how to strengthen and weaken them? Do you know how to identify the author’s role in a Reading Comprehension passage? Can you set up both ordering and grouping games, and do you know when to make scenarios in each of those?

If so, I will make one last prediction, one I can make with absolute confidence: You’re going to do great.

Only a fool would predict what’ll be on the LSAT. So here are our predictions … was originally published on LSAT Blog

#LSAT #predictions #September 2017 LSAT #trent teti #lsat

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