#stola

Maybach Exelero (Stola), 2005

The Exelero Concept Car - The Ultimate in Customization

A one-off custom-built Maybach was unveiled in May 2005 at the Tempodrom in Berlin. Commissioned by tyre company Fulda, the Exelero is a chopped-down two-seater coupe, though it’s more than just a show car - in tests at the Nardo high-speed oval, the prototype reached a speed of 218.38mph, despite weighing over 2.66 tonnes. It is capable of acceleration from 0-60mph in 4.4 seconds.

The car’s design was the result of a competition amongst students at the Pforzheim Polytechnic Department of Transport Design, which has worked on show vehicles for Fulda in the past. The design of 24-year-old Fredrik Burchhardt was chosen, and his work was co-ordinated with that of the Maybach design centre in Sindelfingen. The project, based on the Maybach 57 limousine, required a certain amount of re-engineering; the A-pillar and doors had to be shifted rearwards, and the steering column, pedals and gearshift all re-located. The standard 550bhp V12 engine was bored out to 5.9 litres, and tuned for 700bhp and over 738lb ft of torque. With final dimensions of 5890mm long, 2140mm wide and just 1390mm high, the car was kitted out with a full-spec interior, including leather, neoprene, aluminium and carbonfibre finishes.

This probably isn't the story you thought it was going to be, but... here's how Damian was acquired in the Reverse 'verse of the Demon AU.

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Damian remained hidden in his mother’s nest while she was gone.

She had taught him well because her lesson was necessary to him being kept.

Remain small.

Remain silent.

Remain a secret.

If he made a peep, even an almost-an-impling peep, he would be found and taken.

Stola covens weren’t kind places to humans, especially human males. Damian didn’t exactly know why— his mother had always told him that he would find out when he was older— but it scared him, nonetheless.

He knew that if he was found, he would be taken, and he didn’t know what would be done to him after that. But there were whispers in the Coven. Talk of Bedding Chambers and men so addled that they couldn’t even remember their own names. Damian suspected he would go there, trapped in a cage of his own mind.

Mother would be punished by the Grandmatron for disobeying coven law and keeping one of her male children. He didn’t know what type of punishment it would be but… whatever it was, it kept Mother up at night and that was more than enough reason for Damian to fear it.

They would never see each other again.

Damian would be taken from the only person who ever showed him any kindness. His familial bonds would be ripped from his chest. And he’d be locked into a life of lonely darkness.

So, Damian kept quiet and remained hidden until his mother came back and curled him in her chest.

Damian nestled down into the blankets of his mother’s nest and clutched a handful of her feathers, one of the deep green of her outer primaries, and a bunch of the brunt orange and golds of her softer, barred inner feathers. Damian didn’t have a wing himself, but his mother’s feathers never failed to still be a comfort, especially when she had been gone so long.

He looked out into the dark room, praying for his mother to come through the door.

But the door remained still and Damian remained alone. He sighed and curled into as tight of a ball as he could make. He focused on his bond, the connection between him at his mother that pulsed in his blood, and gave it an anxious little pang.

His mother responded immediately and his pulse quickened with it.

He could almost imagine her voice, cooing gently in his ear.

It did little to stave off the loneliness, but at least it did a little.

He had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

When Mother finally came back in the tiny hours of the morning, she had a companion with her.

Damian tensed, tightening his grip on his mother’s feathers. Mother never brought companions into her sanctuary and near Damian. He pressed himself into his corner as much as he could and tried not to panic. He didn’t dare say a word, trying to be silent, but his breath seemed to roar around him.

Please, please, please…

Don’t hear him.

Don’t even look his way.

But the demon (male, he registered in the back of his mind. Incubus. He had never seen on in real life, only in books) immediately whipped his head towards Damian’s corner.

He almost screamed and just remained stone still.

“Shhh, Damian,” Mother’s voice came and Damian desperately wanted to sink into it. She rushed towards him, her wing ruffling with distress, and her bond pulsing with her heartbeat. She scooped him up and cradled him into her chest, their hearts beating together in perfect time.

Damian could feel the stranger’s gaze on him and the terror of knowing one of the rules were broken, but he didn’t dare pull away from his mother. The scent of her feathers filled his nose and he clutched on to the wing, desperate not to be stolen away.

He had a million questions, but the only thing he could do was stay as close to Mother as he possibly could.

“Is that…?” the stranger said, with a question in his tone.

“Yes,” Mother answered, hugging Damian tight. “Born human, but…” One of her hands brushed a tear leaking down Damian’s cheek. “Still perfect.”

“You told me he was to be killed…that you were going to kill him yourself… that he had died… Talia, I mourned him…”

“I told everyone he was dead,” the Stola snapped, her feathers puffing with aggression. “I made sure everyone thought I had killed him.”

There was a long pause. No one dared to speak and Damian kept being rocked on his mother’s hip.

She looked down at Damian, their matching green eyes meeting.

“Did you know that the Grandmatron tells us that, we are fated to hate our male children? While we are pregnant, she tells us that if the child is male, we will find him repulsive and a disgrace to our own species…”

Damian kept being swayed with his mother. He gave a small almost-warble up to her and she answered back with a fierce purr that vibrated his own chest.

“I thought that’s what would happen, that I would birth a male, human child and hate him… but when I saw him, Beloved… I couldn’t hurt him. I couldn’t even bare to put him on the ground. I loved him.”

She nuzzled into Damian’s face, and he nuzzled her right back like any impling would have. He couldn’t make the right sounds, but he knew the right behaviours.

“It turns out that no Stola hates their male children. We love them just as fiercely as the females, but the expectation of culling them is still there… Many Stola manage to leave their boys at orphanages or with other demons… I couldn’t even do that. So, I hid him and I’ve kept him hidden for as long as I could.”

His Mother turned towards the stranger, and Damian finally got a good look at him.

He was an Incubus, bigger than anyone Damian had ever seen, and… his eyes were kind. His muscles and his stance were deadly but… his eyes were kind?

“Bruce, I know that this is a great ask, but Damian is getting bigger, the Grandmatron is asking more questions and… it’s getting more dangerous.”

His mother was crying. His mother was begging. The bond between them pulsing with her distress.

“I know you have a human child now and experience with raising implings and he is your blood even if his demon skipped a generation…” Her words were coming out fast and frantic, pleading clear through the tone. “Please, Beloved, please take him because I’m terrified of him being found out and killed.”

Damian whimpered into his mother’s skin, trying to understand what was happening, but unable to put the pieces together. He didn’t understand why Mother was begging or why she was offering him to this new demon or why she didn’t want him anymore.

He keened for her, one of the only sounds his human throat could truly make and clutched on to her desperately.

The Incubus stepped forward and placed a hand on his mother’s shoulder. Damian flinched away from the limb.

“Of course, Talia, of course. He is my son, demon or human, it doesn’t matter,” he assured and the tension in Mother’s body crumpled. She wept into Damian’s skin, and he still couldn’t figure out why.

Suddenly, Damian was being passed and new, thicker arms took his weight before he could fight back into his mother’s arms.

“Take him, Bruce. Protect him.”

“I will, but…”

There was a heavy silence, and it dug its teeth into everyone.

“Come with me. Be part of my pack. Raise him with me.”

“But my coven—”

“Damn your coven. Come with me.”

The Stola hesitated, but her face showed her desperate desire, how clearly she wanted to keep Damian’s as her’s.

Damian keened again, wriggling to be let down so he could return to his mother’s side.

“Please, Talia,” the Incubus said, his kind eyes never straying from Damian’s mother. “You don’t have to give him away.”

Talia didn’t speak, but she did take the other demon’s hand and didn’t let go when he led her forward.