#design patterns interview questions | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ckret2 · 2 years ago

Text

Chapter 24 of human Bill Cipher being the Mystery Shack's extremely inconvenient prisoner, featuring: the Pines figuring out a way to chase off Bill's ex-girlfriend... who happens to be a giant eyeball with bat wings.

It kinda goes like this.

(A head's up before we get going: this chapter is a bit more mature than prior ones, so I feel like a warning's in order. There's no sex, and nothing here is erotic or sexy (unless you, too, happen to be attracted to eye-bats), BUT there IS some academic speculation on the logistics of alien sex, and some very filthy-sounding dialogue describing acts that, to humans, aren't sexual at all. Plus some dirty humor and toilet humor. And nothing here is what I'd call billford quite yet, considering Ford still very much hates Bill's guts—but like, he's definitely a little too obsessed with the anatomy of triangles for it to be normal. If any of this is too spicy for you, skip this chapter and come back next one. We'll be starting a new "episode" then.)

####

It was past midnight. In his search for the eye-bat repellant recipe, Ford had flipped through every notebook he'd used during his initial interviews of the residents of Gravity Falls, flipped through them a second time, torn apart half his bookshelves looking for any reporter's notebooks he might have accidentally sorted in with his larger binders, and now he was exhausted, frustrated—and, worst of all, bored out of his mind.

Which made it hard to avoid thinking about more interesting topics.

And for the last hour he'd been unwillingly plagued with the question of how an eyeball and a triangle had a "casual physical thing."

If that didn't mean sex—and you never knew with aliens—then it was still something close enough to fill the same social/recreational niche. It certainly meant sex on the eye-bat's side, Ford had fully documented the reproductive cycle of eye-bats, that was sorted out—but triangles?

It had to be something that would work in the second dimension. Ford had visited a two-dimensional universe populated by geometric shapes, he knew roughly how their bodies functioned: a shape's perimeter was its external surface—its "skin"—and its internal organs were inside that perimeter. So if Bill was still configured the way he had been in his home dimension, any external reproductive anatomy would have to be somewhere on his perimeter, right? Maybe at one of his corners? Or camouflaged where the seams of his brick pattern reached his edges?

But then if Bill were a normal two-dimensional person, he'd have his eye on the edge of his body, not right in the center of his "internal organs." So he'd been rearranged to some extent. Who knew how the rest of his body worked now? His top hat contained flesh and a skeletal structure; maybe it was a removable reproductive organ that could be passed to a partner, like some cephalopods' detachable tentacles—

Ford flinched as he realized Bill was staring at him.

To aid in his anatomical speculation, Ford had drawn a diagram of Bill in his journal and labeled various points on the triangle that might be concealing reproductive anatomy. He quickly scratched out the drawing's staring eye and slammed his journal shut.

He'd happily gone thirty years assuming that Bill had no sex life—Bill was an energy being who presented himself as a floating featureless triangle, his hobbies involved cheating at chess and discussing multidimensional transportation, he probably wasn't designed for "physical things," and if he was designed for it then surely he wasn't interested. Ford was not pleased to have his assumptions disputed.

Because the thing was—Ford knew more than any living human about the mating rituals of unicorns, werewolf/mermaid couples, stomach-faced ducks, and tentacled warrior piglets. (Did he ever know about tentacled warrior piglets.) He had the only photos of a gnome mating ball, which he didn't need, because that horrible sight would be forever seared into his long-term memory. He knew the names of twenty obscene acts in siren sign language, and knew how to use his extra fingers to make them extra obscene. This wasn't unfamiliar territory to him. He was curious about how strange, supernatural creatures functioned; and those functions included how the reproductive drive influenced their behaviors; and a living triangle that had escaped from the second dimension was certainly a strange supernatural creature.

But, unfortunately, it was also Bill Cipher. And Ford did not want to think about what Bill did in bed. ... Assuming he used a bed. Really, at this point the only thing Ford knew was that Bill's only admitted partner was capable of flight. Maybe he just hovered while he—

Ford slammed his journal shut again to stop himself from scribbling down more theories, then stuffed the journal in a desk drawer for good measure. Did normal people think like this? He had no idea. He didn't even know who he could ask.

Enough of this. Back to searching for that eye-bat repellant recipe, and this time he wasn't stopping until he found it.

####

Like a vast eye in an upside-down triangle, the circular center of the portal lit up so bright blue it was almost white. The four energy vents glowed in sympathy. A rainbow constellation lit up in twirling patterns around the central light.

Bill watched with bated breath, a second-dimensional shadow waiting for his door to the third dimension to open. The cavern walls shook; the ground quaked and rumbled ominously; Bill didn't care. The portal was stable, the lab was somebody else's problem, and Bill had a party to get to.

The steel beams supporting the cavern rolled like a wave, and Bill's stomach roiled with them. They weren't supposed to be able to move like that. But he knew what he was doing, the portal was stable, he was not here to destroy this world, he'd come here to save it, whether it wanted to be saved or not—

The whole world undulated. Bedrock and steel were not built to undulate. Bill bobbed on the energy wave like a toy boat on a choppy sea; but the steel shattered, rock crumbled, shrapnel and rubble sprayed out. There was a peal of deafening thunder as the world below him cracked apart.

####

Bill woke with a gasp.

Oh. Right. Dreams.

Dream diary. With a groan, he sat up, checked to make sure no humans were coming by in the next few minutes, and pulled his stolen journal out of its hiding place.

The guide on lucid dreaming had recommended writing down his dreams in full, vivid, rich detail—any people or scenes or events, anything he could detect with his five (?) senses, as much as he could recall.

He drew a portal—gray inverted triangle with a center circle, four circles around the triangle, all five circles filled in yellow green—and then a yellow green line trailing out of the portal's side that grew progressively wigglier like a seismogram. He labeled his doodle, "this." He'd remember the rest.

After a moment of thought, he wrote, "Don't remember if I was a human or a shape. My organs were doing things a shape's shouldn't." (He wrote "human" as 人; there was no translation for the word in the language Bill wrote in. The two angled strokes stood out in Bill's rows of Morse-like dots and dashes.) "Being around so many humans who are CONVINCED I'm trying to destroy their world must be getting to me. Sixer pitched another hissy-fit about the portal yesterday. Enduring all that negative talk can't be healthy for me. I know I'm just helping their boring little planet, but maybe their accusations are getting lodged in this stupid brain's subconscious."

Maybe he should meditate a bit—go think positive thoughts, drown out the mortal voices that insisted they knew his plans better than he did. He'd had enough dreaming for one night, anyway.

Beneath the note to himself, Bill added in English: "Everything would have been fine if you'd just let me finish, Fordsy." If the humans ever did find this journal, Bill was determined to get the last word in.

Then he stowed away the stolen journal and shuffled downstairs.

He wondered how much was left of Ford's portal.

####

Old man bladder. Stan dragged himself out of bed. The other guest room bed was empty. Stan hoped Ford was sleeping in his study—he'd mentioned once he kept a cot down there. Better than pulling another all nighter studying alien sorcery or whatever.

He skipped his glasses, groped his way to the downstairs bathroom, and, yawning, lined up with the toilet.

The toilet said, "Pretty forward of you, Stanley."

Stan screamed.

He stumbled backwards out of the bathroom and hit the wall. Bill flipped on the light and leaned out to grin at him. "Careful! You're due for a broken hip any day now."

"BILL! What are DOING!"

"Trying not to get urinated on."

"Jsh—shut up!" It had dawned on Stan that if he could hear Bill without his hearing aids, then half the house probably could too. He hoped no one had overheard that. "Why are you sitting on the toilet in the dark!"

"It's a free country, Stanley Pines."

Stan raised a fist. "GET OUT!"

Bill bolted from the bathroom like a scared rabbit, then caught himself, rolled his eyes, and raised his hands over his head in mock surrender. "You could have asked nicely!"

Pointing at Bill as he retreated, Stan added, "And stop being so darn creepy! Lurking in the dark and sneaking around silently all the time, like a... some kind of—burglar ninja assassin!"

Bill turned to shout back, "What, do you expect me to make a peace cry every time I walk around? Make sure I can't sneak up and stab you in the back?"

Stan had caught about half of that. "YEAH, smart guy! It might help!"

Bill flung his hands out in defeat as he rounded the corner.

Stan finished his business, went back to bed, and glared angrily at the ceiling another ten minutes.

####

It had taken half the night, but at last Ford had disassembled the filing cabinet and found a few notebooks that had gotten stuck behind the bottom drawer, including the one with Old Lady Sprott's eye-bat repellant recipe. Ford copied it down, left a list of ingredients on the gift shop cash register for Soos, and finally dragged himself into the house to sleep.

And paused in the entryway.

Bill was sitting in the kitchen, staring out the window; Ford had seen him like this before. Usually, he could make himself walk by.

But he couldn't tonight. Maybe it was yesterday's conversation still weighing on his mind, the loose ends they hadn't tied up tangling around his throat. "What are you doing up?"

Bill's voice was inappropriately calm: "Dying."

Ford's guard went up. "Do you... Literally or metaphorically?"

"Literally," Bill said. "Hey—how many decades do you think this body's got? Probably not even a century, right?"

Ford's guard went down. Just moping. But it was an interesting question, one he'd put some thought into himself—what age had Bill's body been made at? How had his body been made that age? How long would the body last? Ford had wondered whether studying Bill's freshly-made-but-already-adult body might reveal anything medically useful about how aging affected the human body; but the odds of convincing Bill to participate in any medical studies—much less finding someone to conduct the study who believed their story—were nonexistent.

Ford said, "At a loose guess, I'd put you around... fifty, maybe? A very spry fifty." Bill's hair was a shockingly vivid gold, not a hint of gray, and when he was in a good mood Bill bounced about with an enviable lack of joint pain; but Ford had seen faint, delicate creases around his mouth and eyes that spoke to age. And the look in his eyes... Ford hated the phrase "old soul"—he'd been called that by some of his school teachers, and it only made him feel the distance between himself and his age peers all the more strongly—but with Bill, it was uncannily fitting. His eyes aged his whole face.

"You think this thing looks fifty? Wow." Bill took a deep drink from a cider can. "Shooting Star's best guess was half that. Thanks for shoving me twenty-five years closer to the grave."

Half that? When Ford had been a child, he'd had a harder time guessing adults' ages, and he supposed Mabel might be the same; but it was difficult to mistake a 50-year-old for a 25-year-old. Maybe there was something else going on. He'd have to ask her later. "With exercise, a healthy diet, and a little luck, you could still live another fifty." Ford nodded at the two empty cider cans already sitting on the table. "With your current drinking habits, I'll give you five."

Bill cackled—loudly enough to make Ford tense up, afraid someone would catch them talking. "Cheers!" Bill finished off the can and slammed it down with the others. "Ugh. Finite lifespans. Awful."

"Welcome to being human," Ford said dryly.

"'Welcome to death row,'" Bill said. "Ha! What'm I doing, worrying about decades. Let's be real, I don't even need to worry about the next five years. If I haven't found a way out of this body before then..."

Bill left the thought unfinished. An uneasy weight formed low in Ford's stomach.

"Ah, whatever. Like you'd let me live that long. Right, Sixer?" Bill pushed himself up unsteadily, keeping his balance first with a hand on the back of the chair, and then on Ford's (suddenly very tense) shoulder as he passed him. "I'm going back to sleep before that last can kicks in."

The way Bill was walking, Ford wasn't sure he'd make it up the stairs. "Why don't you sleep on the folding bed in the living room?"

"No window," Bill said. "I've g—" (He stumbled on the stairs.) "I've gotta see the stars."

Of course he did. When Bill said it that way, it was so obvious Ford didn't know why he hadn't realized that himself. Where else could Bill sleep but as close to the sky as possible?

Ford listened as Bill stumbled his way upstairs, creaked across the floorboards, and collapsed onto his makeshift bed.

Ford had thirty years left. Exactly thirty years. Don't have a heart attack, you're not ninety-two yet! Ninety-two was a good, old age. Older than his father had been. But thirty years felt too soon. And yet it felt fitting, somehow, for his life to be divided so neatly in thirds.

If Bill lived another fifty years in this body, and Ford lived thirty, who would stand guard over him? Would he and Stan have to pass that burden on to their gniece and gnephew? Or to Soos and Melody?

Why was he wondering—what made him think they wouldn't find a way to kill Bill before then? What made him think he wouldn't kill Bill before the end of this very summer?

What made him so sure Bill hadn't been lying about when Ford would die? Thirty years felt too soon; but ninety-two felt flatteringly optimistic.

Ford sighed, and picked up the cider cans to recycle.

He wondered whether Bill—hiding from his ex, fretting about death, sleeping on his enemies' floor—regretted how he'd spent his life.

####

Bill's second entry in his dream diary started, "Wet dream about Iris."

He filled most of a page with an extremely graphic summary before he sighed in frustration, stowed the journal away, and stared at the ceiling as dawn crept in. Well. Terrific. He was pretty intimately familiar with how humans coupled, but he didn't have much practice with the solo act. Plus the humans would give him heck if they caught him at it. He'd just have to suffer.

So here he was, all riled up and nowhere to go.

Who else could he make miserable?

####

Stan was startled awake by a heavy pounding on his door.

"Heeey Fisherman!" Somehow, Bill's voice was even more grating at dawn. He rattled the door several more times. "Just passing by! Wanted to let you know! Here I am! Right here!"

Did that demon ever sleep? And, follow up question, could Stan knock him out for a few hours?

Ford—who must have come up after Stan went back to bed—groaned and muttered something.

Ford wasn't nearly as loud as Bill. Stan reluctantly sat up and put a hearing aid in. "What?"

"What the devil is he up to now."

"No idea," Stan lied. "Go yell at him about it, he listens to you."

Ford sighed, but got up and left the room.

A minute later, Stan heard Bill exclaim, "I can't win with you people!"

He smirked.

####

The kitchen reeked that morning. When Stan came in for breakfast, the window was open, a fan in the entryway futilely directed fresh air into the kitchen and a fan on the kitchen table directed the noxious fumes outside, there were bags of groceries on the counter—he noticed hot sauce, peppers, cheap perfume, and an entire bag of raw onions—and Ford was standing at the stove, stirring a pot of vile-smelling brown liquid. The moment he saw Stan, Ford put him to work stirring the pot so Ford could start dicing onions.

While they worked, Ford explained the situation with the eye-bat harassing the tourists and the solution he'd hit on to drive it away. Soos had collected the necessary ingredients this morning, but couldn't help cook because he was busy finding a way to block the bottomless pit—

####

Outside, Soos scooted a trampoline up to the pit, carefully lined it up with the edge—the trampoline and the pit had nearly the same diameter—and shoved it in. It plummeted into the dark. After a short wait, Soos chucked a baseball down the pit. It disappeared, then bounced back up.

Soos pumped his fist triumphantly. "Aced it."

####

—so, Ford was working on the repellant, and in the interest of public safety and the greater good he was drafting Stan into helping too.

Which Stan supposed he couldn't argue with, but considering the smell he would've preferred dicing the onions. "Is all this really necessary for one eye-bat? I usually just swat 'em off with a tennis racket."

"This eye-bat happens to be large enough to carry off a first-grader," Ford said. "And Bill claims it's his ex-girlfriend, so I don't want to risk them meeting."

"Huh." Weird thing to date, but then Stan didn't know what he did expect a triangle demon to date. "Somehow I figured he was tangled up in this."

Ford laughed ruefully.

After a moment of chopping and stirring, Ford said, "Speaking of Bill—he claims that you ordered him to announce his presence? And that you tried to pee on him."

"I did not and he's a dirty liar! He made the whole thing up!" Stan didn't expect Ford to believe him. Stan also didn't expect Ford to believe Bill. Ford knew they were both liars. What Stan expected was for Ford to side with the person he liked best.

"Uh huh." Ford didn't question Stan further. Ha. Pines solidarity.

Even though he'd already won, Stan went on: "All I did was mention how quiet he is! I can never tell where he's lurking. Sometimes I almost forget he's here." In Stan's mind, Bill had been rapidly demoted from "active existential threat" to "annoying houseguest who blends in with the shadows." Watching him help Mabel cut pretty pictures from fashion magazines with plastic safety scissors drained away most of his intimidation factor.

Ford gave Stan a funny look. "Really? I can't forget he's here for a second. Sometimes I swear I can tell where he's been in the house—like a cold spot left by a ghost."

Stan tried to figure out how to ask whether that was a reaction to decades on the run feeling like hunted prey—which Stan knew how to cope with—or a lingering magical side effect of Ford and Bill's alien possession deal—which Stan did not. Then Ford added, "It's probably because I hear him bumping into the furniture all the time."

"Oh. Yeah. That's probably it. You've got better hearing than me." Case closed. Stan turned back to the stove—

A deafening buzz made them both start. Stan splashed boiling brown stink across the stovetop. "What—!"

Standing in the doorway with a kazoo, Bill said, "How's that, Stanley? Do you like that better?!"

"YOU!" Stan flung the stirring spoon to the floor.

Bill bolted from the room with Stan in hot pursuit. "Whoa! Mercy! Truce! You can have the kazoo! It's not even mine, I'm just holding it for a fr— Ow ow OW ow—"

Stan hauled Bill in by the back of the neck and didn't let go until he was in the middle of the kitchen. He pointed at the spoon, then pointed at the pot. "Pick it up. Get stirring." He grabbed another knife and joined Ford chopping onions. Whew, what a relief.

Bill gave Stan a perplexed look, but picked up the spoon, gave the pot an experimental sniff, and got stirring. He didn't even wince at the smell. "Is this the gnome wizz? What is this, punishment for not letting you use me as a urinal?"

"Whatsamatter, I thought you were the one who thinks pee belongs in the kitchen."

"You're both too old for toilet humor," Ford snapped. "Bill, this problem is your fault, the least you can do is help prepare the spray, and you're not getting a knife, so you're on pot stirring duty. Deal with it."

Bill rolled his eyes dramatically. (At the moment, they were both uncovered; but one was already half squinted shut against the morning light.) "Fine, but only because I like hanging out with you."

Ford scoffed.

"And I don't see how this is my fault just because we happened to date. It's not like I invited her over," Bill went on. "If anything, you should be grateful she's my ex, or else I wouldn't be helping you chase her away—"

"Hey, that's what I wanna know about this," Stan said. He gestured toward the window; the ex in question was currently circling above the gift shop entrance, like a vulture waiting for something to die. "Exactly how do you 'date' an eye-bat? Just—how does that work?"

"Well, it depends on the eye-bat, doesn't it," Bill said, a touch patronizing. "They don't all have the same tastes, you know. But she happens to like art films and water parks. Easy date."

"I'm not talking about that! You're telling us you slept with an eyeball with bat wings—right? That's what we're talking about, right?" From the corner of his eye, Stan saw Ford giving him a sharp look, but he didn't tell Stan to stop. Yeah, the nerd was curious, too.

"Yes, Stanley." Bill's condescension was almost more overpowering than the kitchen's stench. "That's what we're talking about. I 'slept' with an eyeball with bat wings." He exaggerated the finger quotes around the euphemism. "Any more prying you want to do into my personal life, or...?"

"You look at that freak out there and think it's appealing?"

Bill stopped stirring and squinted out the window. Flatly, he said, "Yep. She's still drop dead gorgeous. Thanks for asking."

"How do you even know that's a she! How can you tell a girl eye from a boy eye?"

Ford said, "Technically, Stanley, all eye-bats are female." He held up an onion and used his knife tip to gesture at it like it was a model eyeball, "They're parthenogenetic parasites that reproduce by attacking other species' faces and depositing egg-bearing spores on their eyeballs, which swim to the tear ducts to begin incubating. Over the next few weeks, the infected eyeball grows wings and develops its own nervous system while the host slowly goes blind in one eye, until the new eye-bat is mature enough to emerge from the host's socket and seek out her mother's colony—"

Bill let out a strangled scream. "Enough!"

Stan and Ford stared at him.

"Would you stop talking about eye-bat sex?! I'm already riled up! I don't need help making it worse!"

He slammed the stirring spoon down and started pacing. "I'm losing my mind. Do you know what it's like to be randy for something you don't have the right body for?!" He gave them a pleading, slightly crazed look. "I need to feel her pupil contracting against mine. I'd lick her hot, salty tears off her sclera. I'd bite deep enough to taste her retina. I want to look like I've got pinkeye from all the bat spores coating my face. I'd give my right eye just to have one of her wings fingering my eyelid again—but if I cave and go that far I know I'd lose my head and give her the left one too, and then I've screwed up, because STUPID HUMANS BODIES can't regrow their STUPID EYEBALLS—"

He kicked the wall so hard he lost his balance and stumbled back into the stove. "Ow. I'm going insane. I can't take it. I need to kill somebody. I need to set something on fire."

Stan and Ford were petrified. Stan's jaw had dropped.

Bill was panting from the exertion of his outburst, arms trembling, face flushed. His shoulders slumped. The picture of a broken man, he said, "I'd do anything to rim her optic nerve again."

Ford let out a strangled noise.

Bill took several deep breaths. He rubbed his forehead. "Sorry! Wow. That was... I think the fumes are getting to me." He shook his head. "The fumes and the hormones. Human hormones. You know, your species has very insistent..." He gestured vaguely toward the doorway. "I'm—think I should lay down."

Stan and Ford nodded. Bill trudged from the room. A few seconds later, Stan heard springs creak as Bill flopped his full weight on the living room sofa.

Stan and Ford exchanged a look. Stan said, "I shouldn't have asked about..."

"You shouldn't have asked."

"You should have skipped the science lesson."

"I should have."

They lapsed into silence. After a moment, Ford stood up to take over stirring the pot.

Stan resumed chopping onions. "Say, d'you think he staged all that to get out of stirring?"

Ford didn't reply.

"Sixer?" Stan glanced up.

Ford had turned away from the stove, and was staring at nothing with a faraway, troubled look. It was the look he got when he'd just latched on to some mystery that would haunt him until he solved it.

"Ford—?"

Ford slapped down the spoon and stomped into the living room. "But you hate losing your eyeball! So how did you two— I mean—! The spores—?"

"Incompatible biology." Bill's voice sounded muffled. "It's why we never got serious. She wants kids and my tear ducts can't incubate wings."

"Ah! Of course. That makes perfect sense." Ford returned to the stove with a look of triumph.

Stan didn't know how Ford had recovered from that fast enough to ask follow-up questions. Weird nerd. Stan shook his head but said nothing.

####

In Ford's journal, he scratched out most of his speculation about the anatomy of Bill's species, scribbled over the diagram, and added, "I severely underestimated how much his eye is involved."

####

At one point, during Weirdmageddon, when Bill had been torturing Ford for information, Ford had spat in his eye. Bill had licked it off. He'd seemed eerily undisturbed.

Ford would probably wonder how Bill had interpreted that act for the rest of his life.

####

Outside, dressed in a homemade hazmat suit consisting of painter's coveralls and a scuba mask, Soos faced off against the eye-bat, a spray bottle strapped to each hip like a cowboy's revolvers. Dipper and Mabel stood behind him, armed with a rake and a golf club, wearing a bicycle helmet and a football helmet with tree branches taped on. The eye-bat stared them down warily.

Leaning on his elbows over the kitchen table so he could stare out the window, Bill said, "Bet you a hundred bucks she steals Questiony's hat."

Stan snorted. "I'm not taking that bet. You don't have any money."

Bill grunted and turned back to the window, just in time to see the eye-bat dive for Soos's face. Soos whipped out one of the spray bottles, dropped it, ducked down to retrieve it just as she swooped past where his head used to be, and lifted it in time to spray the eye-bat when she circled back to attack him again. She reeled off screeching, eye watering, pupil contracting. Bill winced in sympathy. Poor gal. And she didn't even have an eyelid for protection. But, hey—better for her to suffer than for Bill to risk getting caught in this body. He'd take someone else's pain over his own embarrassment any day.

"It seems to be working the same as it does on any other eye-bat," Ford said. "Good. Once she's gone, Soos and the kids can spray the rest on the roof. That should drive her off while keeping the worst of the scent away from the tourists."

Streaming tears, the eye-bat dove at the kids. They yelled in alarm. Dipper threw his rake at her and missed. Bill flipped up his eyepatch to squint at the battle with both eyes.

"What, do you see something?" Stan asked.

"Just appreciating her sphericality." Bill sighed wistfully. "That spray's gotta be excruciatingly painful—but, I've never seen her that wet before. Sure, we've fooled around with a little hot sauce a few times, but even then—"

"I'm sorry I asked."

Outside, Soos shouted, "Hey! My hat! Give that back!"

Bill wordlessly held a hand out toward Stan.

Stan smacked it away. "Nyeh."

As the eye-bat retreated toward the forest, Ford sighed in relief. "She's gone. It worked."

"You sound surprised," Bill said.

"Frankly, I can't believe that you gave us accurate information on how to get rid of her."

"What! You wound me! Why would I lie about that?"

"To trick us into doing something that strengthens her? To arrange an opportunity to meet her?" Ford suggested. "After all, as one of your Henchmaniacs, she could have helped you escape."

Bill's blood ran cold.

She could have helped him escape. SHE COULD HAVE HELPED HIM ESCAPE! He'd been so worried about not looking stupid or losing his eyes, when all this time—! He could have signaled Iris from the window, and—and the bottomless pit was right there, she could have carried a message to the gang—at the very least, she could probably open doors for him—and instead he just—when he could have—

He watched in despair as Iris's pretty little optic nerve vanished behind the trees.

No, Bill decided—no, getting her help was a terrible plan. If it was a good plan, he would have done it; so it was terrible. He had a better plan. What was his better plan?

"Come on, you think I need her? I've got all the pals I need right here—whether you're ready to admit it or not." He elbowed Ford. Bill had decided he'd wheedle Ford back over to his side, and he would. His survival depended on it. Now more than ever. "I've got a way out, don't worry about that—it's only a matter of time—and she's not part of the plan."

Ford scoffed. "Really. Last night you were moaning about being on death row."

"Wh—Hey! That was..." Not fair. He scrambled to revise his story.

"You're lying about something," Ford said. "If it wasn't how to get rid of her, then it was why you wanted to get rid of her. For all we know, maybe she wants you dead as much as we do."

"Yeah," Stan said, "the 'girlfriend' story sounds crazy enough to be true, but you seem like the kind of guy who has a string of exes who'd love to kill you." (He did, as it happened, but it wasn't his fault he kept falling for petty jealous psychos who hated seeing him thrive.)

Ford said, "If she hadn't been a danger to the tourists, perhaps I should have invited her in to talk."

Unbelievable. Even when Bill did exactly what he was supposed to, he was still the bad guy. "Fine, she was a notorious black widow and you saved my life, happy? Do you like that story better? I made it up just for you." He jabbed a finger in Ford's shoulder. "You know what your problem is? You're too paranoid. You can't trust anything anybody says. You'll only hurt yourself like that—"

Ford shoved Bill's hand away and stepped out of poking range. "I spent years unlearning the paranoia you gave me. And when I finished, do you know what I figured out, Bill? All along, there was only one person I shouldn't have trusted: you."

It stung, but only in a distant, impersonal way; like a hard slap on a numb cheek. Bill turned to give Ford a sour look. "At the lengths you take it to, I could tell you the sky is blue and you'd have to check."

Ford's gaze automatically flickered toward the window.

"Ha!" Bill angrily shoved the table against the wall as he stood up. "Thanks for taking care of my pest problem, boys." He stormed upstairs, flipping his hood up as he went. Ingrates.

####

The view out the attic window was more interesting than usual, mainly because there were three humans traipsing around on the roof spraying eye-bat repellant. From time to time Mabel came by to make funny faces at Bill through the glass; he did his best to one-up them. Once, Soos nearly fell off the roof and died; Bill hadn't laughed that hard since he was murdered.

Their return indoors was heralded by Mabel shouting, "Dibs on the shower!" and Dipper replying, "I take shorter showers, let me go first!" They pounded up the stairs. Mabel tried to take them two at a time, tripped near the top, and by the time she recovered Dipper was already in the bathroom. She groaned. "Augh! Not fair! I don't want to smell like onions and gnome pee!"

"Neither do I! I need it more, I haven't showered in two weeks!"

Bill wondered why Dipper got to go so long between showers without getting dumped in a cold tub in his sleep. (He knew why.)

Bill whistled to catch Mabel's attention. "Consolation prize." He waved a cheap perfume bottle toward Mabel. "We had leftovers after mixing the repellant. It smells like strawberry candy."

"You're my hero." Mabel took the bottle and sprayed it all over herself, in her hair, and under her sweater. "You need a shower too, you know."

"Sure, but until Dolores fumigates the kitchen I'll just blend into the background stink. I can put it off til tomorrow without anyone complaining."

"You're grossss." Mabel emphasized the hiss by poking Bill's arm. "Once I'm clean, I'm not talking to you until you've showered too."

"I'll be devastated."

"Those are my terms!" She kicked aside Bill's cushion-bed so she could sit under the window without stinking the cushions up, and settled back to wait for the bathroom. After a (very short) companionable silence, Mabel said, "It's too bad we had to chase off your ex. I can see why you like her."

Bill gave her a surprised look. "Can you?"

"Iris was so graceful!" Mabel said. "And murderous, but mostly graceful. Like an evil swan."

Bill laughed. "Yeah! Yeah, she is. Floats like a dream. If you think she's graceful in the air, you oughta see her in the pool. She's the only person I know who can make a cannonball look elegant."

Mabel gave him a sly grin.

"What?"

"Look at you. Yooou still like heeer." Mabel propped her elbows on the edge of the window seat and balanced her chin in her hands. "How did you meet Iris?"

For the last couple of days, almost everyone in the house had talked about Bill's ex like she was some kind of malevolent creature, rather than a person. He was used to outsiders talking about his friends that way—heck, most of his friends were malevolent creatures—but it grated all the same. (He missed home.) Just hearing Mabel call Iris by her name was a breath of fresh air. No one else had even asked if she had a name.

"I met her at a party," Bill said. "I'd just gotten a piano and was showing off, and she came by to ask about Earth music. She wasn't in my crew then—but the party was open invite, and everyone in that corner of the Nightmare Realm knew that if you wanted info on Earth, you came to Bill Cipher. So, we talked about waltzes and tarantellas, I played a little Beethoven, we hit things off..."

They talked until the bathroom was free and Mabel went to shower. Sweet kid. Hopeless romantic, though.

When Bill got out of this place, he was gonna find the first boy who would break her heart and kill him before they could meet. It was the least he could do for her.

####

The third entry in Bill's dream diary: "Shooting Star's cartoon is getting to me. I dreamed about the wolf and the cat arguing over who had to host someone's birthday party. The wolf refused to let guests into his enormous mansion, but the cat's house was burning down. They asked me how to resolve this. I told them the cat should execute the wolf as punishment for his inhospitality, take over his mansion, and wear his skin as the party host. The animals were so in awe of my wisdom that I was deified as god of the jungle."

That was not what he'd dreamed. The animals were so horrified at his suggestion that they'd tied him to a stake and forced him to watch as they threw the cat into the flames of her own house. He couldn't remember whether he'd dreamed that he was a triangle or a human.

He preferred his version. Once he'd regained control over his dreams, he could replay this one and make it end properly.

He'd get the hang of this in no time.

####

(You're legally required to tell me if you had a reaction to this one. Even if it's horror. Especially if it's horror.)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #grunkle ford #ford pines #grunkle stan #stan pines #gravity falls #gravity falls fanart #gravity falls fic #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

569 notes · View notes

jokeroutsubs · 1 month ago

Text

📝ENG Translation: Kris Guštin Goes Wild: into the World of Animal Print

Read full article below the cut👇

Joker Out may be on a break, but that doesn’t mean its members are sitting still. While some have been enjoying well-deserved rest or working on side projects, guitarist Kris Guštin has taken an unexpected detour—straight into the wild. Or rather, to the African savanna, in pursuit of what he calls his latest “artistic awakening.” And no, it’s not a new guitar technique or an obscure genre of music. It’s animal print.

In an exclusive interview with ELLE Savanna, Kris opens up about his deep dive into fashion’s fiercest trend, his two-month immersion in the heart of the wilderness, and why he believes the cheetah print is “a state of mind.”

Wild prints, wilder spirit, unstoppable Kris. Photo by: ELLE Savanna

ELLE: Kris, we have to ask—why the savanna?

Kris Guštin: It started with an innocent fascination. I saw a leopard-print coat in my favourite vintage shop in Ljubljana and thought “This is cool!”. Then, I bought some zebra-print boots. Before I knew it, I was down a rabbit hole of animal print history, and everything pointed to the savanna. The landscapes, the energy, the fact that actual leopards and zebras live here. So, I thought, why not go straight to the source? Two months of full immersion—studying prints, textures, patterns, even the way animals move. I wanted to become the print.

ELLE: So, what did you actually do while you were there?

Kris: Oh, everything. I spent time observing wildlife, studying how their patterns blend into nature, analyzing the differences between cheetah spots and leopard rosettes. I took inspiration from the surroundings — watching animals move, their confidence. I even got to know a local textile artisan who incorporates traditional prints into modern designs. I think by the third week, I was dressing in full head-to-toe print without even thinking about it. It felt... natural.

ELLE: You’re making it sound like animal print is more than just a fashion choice.

Kris: That’s because it is. It’s a philosophy. When you wear it, you have to own it. There’s no halfway with leopard print. You don’t timidly wear a tiger-striped blazer—you command the room with it. That’s what I learned in the savanna. Confidence. Presence. The art of the strut.

ELLE: Has this experience changed your personal style for good?

Kris: Absolutely. Animal print is in my DNA now. I’ve already chosen my wardrobe for the next Joker Out tour, and let’s just say the boys should be prepared for a very wild aesthetic shift. If they think I’m showing up in another plain H&M sweater, they’re in for a surprise.

ELLE: Final question—do you think you’ve started a new trend? Should we expect a full Joker Out jungle aesthetic?

Kris: Listen, I’m not saying Bojan will be wearing snakeskin pants next time you see us, but... actually, no, wait. That’s exactly what I’m saying. Now, excuse me, I have to go make some phone calls.

It looks like Kris Guštin’s animal-print era is here to stay, and if his time in the savanna has taught us anything, it’s that fashion — and rock music — are both about fearless self-expression. So, Joker Out fans, get ready. The next tour might just look like a high-fashion jungle.

#joker out #jokeroutsubs #kris guštin #kris gustin

42 notes · View notes

thenotionalsupernatural · 22 days ago

Text

CASTING CALL - The Notional Supernatural

A new audio-drama is in the works, and we're looking to assemble our weird little team! We're looking for creative of all kinds to help bring this supernatural podcast to life:

🖊️ Writers - Got a knack for eerie, atmospheric storytelling with a touch of dark humour? This is the place for you. 🎤 Voice Actors - From deadpan skeptics to haunted teens to unknowable horrors, we need voices of all kinds. 🎨 Artists - Illustrators, cover designers, promo wizards, help us make the strange look stunning. 🎧 Sound Editors / Designers - If you can turn a whisper into a chill down the spine, we need your ears. This is a passion project with long-term potential, and we’re looking to build a collaborative space for folks who love strange stories, creepy vibes, and a slow-burn mystery.

📍 Remote / Worldwide, however we are UK based so timezones will centre around that 📩 Feel free to ask us anything on this blog, or jump right in and join us on discord, it would be an absolute pleasure to have you! Plot Information

Edgar “Eddie” Pritchard never set out with the intention of becoming the voice of the supernatural in his fog-choked town, but when you drop out of university with only a half-finished degree in English Literature and Folklore and a chip on your shoulder, you take what you can get.

Eddie now hosts the low-fi podcast The Notional Supernatural, dedicated to the bizarre, unexplained incidents that plague his hometown. Haunted radios, phantom dogs, disappearing roads, flickering doppelgängers; everyone else explains it away as a bad dream or hangovers, some of it becoming urban legends, however Eddie suspects something else may be at play.

Each episode features submissions from listeners, with Eddie conducting awkward, but often chilling, interviews, and on the odd occasion venturing into the field himself – with no more than a recorder, a flashlight, and a growing awareness that he's way in over his head. The deeper he goes, the more he notices patterns, threads that indicate something much larger, going back decades, maybe even centuries.

But Eddie is not just documenting these occurrences. They're beginning to follow him. And the question is: is he just an observer? Or is he becoming a part of the phenomenon himself?

#audio drama #casting call #voice acting #indie podcast #horror podcast #The Notional Supernatural #creative writing #artists on tumblr #writers on tumblr #editors on tumblr #sound editing

46 notes · View notes

raven-at-the-writing-desk · 9 months ago

Note

Hey, so you seem to be the the All Knowing in terms of twst. With Glorious Masquerade getting a rerun soon, I was looking at the cards.

So what the heck is up with Jamil's freaking hat? I'm sorry but I can't look at it without laughing. It looks so stupid. The closest thing I can think of that matches it is the combined crowns of upper and lower Egypt, but this is the equivalent of France so that can't be it.

While I’m flattered that people come to me with their questions, I want to take a moment to remind everyone that I’m just another TWST fan like you are! ^^ It’s stressful to be considered “all knowing” or a fandom authority 💦 That puts a lot of pressure on me to speak on certain subjects or to interact in a certain way (since people might put too much stock into what I say), and then that ends up detracting from my enjoyment. I’d rather not be put on such a high pedestal, please and thank you.

Now, onto the question!

According to Rollo in 1-13 of Glorious Masquerade, the costumes the NRC students were gifted are “patterned after designs that are over 500 years old.”

If we extrapolate this to real life, the implication is that these costumes have roots in Renaissance era (14th century to 17th century) French fashion. Interestingly, Rollo’s own hat is similar to a tricorne, which was primarily worn in the 18th century… so technically, his hat is more “modern” than what the NRC students wear 😂

So I browsed through records of hats from the indicated period and guess what? I couldn’t find an exact match—though I did find a lot of hat designs that I found way sillier than what the NRC boys have. Like… sorry, what is THAT 😭

Some headwear which bears a vague similarity to Jamil’s hat are the Egyptian combined/double crown (the pschent), which Anon has already mentioned, and the French hood, which was worn by women in the 15th century.

The actual closest match I came across was the mitre, a liturgical headdresses worn by Roman Catholic officials. If you look at it from the front, it doesn’t look like much, but it definitely has the height of Jamil’s hat. But then look closer and you’ll realize the mitre does not have one single flap of fabric, but rather two.

If you take the front flap of a mitre and fold it back, you would probably get something very similar to what Jamil wears. (Note that the black part of the hat is NOT his hair, but is fabric that is part of the hat.)

Considering that Noble Bell College is styled like a cathedral and that the Renaissance era from which the Masquerade Dress clothing derives is characterized by the rediscovery of classical literature, art, and philosophy… perhaps it’s not so strange to see a hat borne of religious associations.

… Why did Jamil specifically get this hat? Not sure, I’m not religious myself so don’t ask me to psychoanalyze him from that angle 😂

The golden part securing the front is unusual and does not appear in French fashion of the time (at least not from what I could tell?). It’s styled like pschent but more likely is meant to be turban-like due to Jamil’s inspiration, Jafar, having the same feather sticking up in the middle of a bulbous hat. You’ll notice Jamil had a “feather” too, albeit metal:

To summarize, I think the design of Masquerade Dress Jamil’s hat borrows from multiple inspirations and not just one/old French fashion. Yana has stated before in a March 2023 interview with the Apple App Store that the cultures of Twisted Wonderland are unique and that the clothing that appears in the game are not “reinterpretations of existing costumes”. She seems to incorporate elements from both high fashion and from a variety of cultures to arrive at the final designs. For example, there are elements of many Nordic cultures in the Apple Pom outfits, and the Pomefiore uniform has a Japanese kimono-like silhouette despite the dorm being based on the the Evil Queen (originating from a German tale). I assume something similar happened when designing the Masquerade Dresses; Yana and co. wanted to combine elements and make something of their own.

Final comment I'll make, the shape of Jamil's hat looks like a kind of dumpling... It makes me hungry.

#twisted wonderland #twst #Jamil Viper #Rollo Flamme #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #notes from the writing raven #question #glorious masquerade spoilers #advice #evil queen #Jafar

109 notes · View notes

prettyoddfever · 1 year ago

Text

This off-white t-shirt that was for sale at some shows during the 2008 Honda Civic Tour was really popular and was usually the one you'd see people asking other fans to grab for them in late spring because their show sold out in their size. This is the shirt that was sewn into a vest for Ryan that season btw:

FBR added this shirt to their webstore in August 2008 and some sizes sold out quickly but then got restocked. I remember some people complaining that FBR's shirt was a slightly different color than the one on tour, but others said it was the same. Idk, it looked like the same general off-white color to me. The band's name was still on the back of the right sleeve:

I liked this design because it was SO different from most t-shirt designs in this era (like in general, not just PATD) and was way more minimalist. A fan created some pngs that we could print out to iron on our own shirts, so I'll add them here if anyone wants them. They used the "Big Noodle Tilting" font and created their own heart:

That fall Hot Topic also came out with an off-white tote that had the same large "reinvent love" design on one side. Then the design of the band name (from the t-shirt's sleeve) got a heart added and was enlarged to be the graphic on the other side of the tote. The inside of the bag was a floral pattern that reminded me of the striped hoodie's lining:

FBR clearly loved how successful this whole design was. The webstore included a bonus sticker in the order packages for P!ATD fans in fall 2008:

The Rock Band Live Tour shows in fall 2008 used the same type of graphic:

And the shows on that tour had a black tote & shirt for sale:

Spencer did an interview with Out.com this season that had this question:

The most popular items at your merch booth seem to be a t-shirt and bag that say “Reinvent Love,” which is such a strong, inclusive message. Tell me about how that became the band slogan. It started out as a lyric in “Mad as Rabbits.” It was the last song we were recording for the album, and as we figured out how to fit it into the end of the song, it took on some more anthem-style cheer. As we went on tour, me and Ryan [Ross, Panic’s guitarist] talked about making a “Reinvent Love” shirt. At first it was just going to be on the Fueled By Ramen web store, just a limited edition thing because it didn’t have our band name on the front, and we didn’t know how many people would want to wear that. It ended up being a lot more popular than we thought it would. We were ending all of the concerts with that song, so that was the last thing that people were hearing. We wouldn’t want to be a part of anything that wasn’t that kind of that message. If there’s going to be some saying associated with our band, that’s a pretty good one. It goes along with everything we want to represent and the way that we feel.

This bracelet was added to FBR's webstore in December 2008 (after the Pretty. Odd. era had basically ended & around the time that Live in Chicago was released):

By the time this necklace got added to FBR's webstore in January 2009, a lot of fans were tired of this theme:

The necklace spawned more fan jokes about what was coming next at that point... my favorite was still the musical toaster:

So in March 2009 FBR just added the black shirt & tote to their webstore (the ones that were sold at shows in fall 2008) and then let the phrase rest so they could soon move onto overusing the return of the exclamation mark. lol jk.

#merch #rbl2

100 notes · View notes

codeonedigest · 2 years ago

Text

The Decorator Pattern Tutorial with Java Example You've Been Waiting For | Compare it with Strategy Pattern

Full Video link https://youtu.be/CJ-EDREomJ0 Hello friends, #Decoratorpattern video in #JavaDesignPatterns is published on #codeonedigest #youtube channel. This video covers topics 1. What is #Decoratordesignpattern? 2. What is the use of Decorator #de

Decorator design pattern is to allow additional responsibility to object at the run time. Use Decorator pattern whenever sub-classing is not possible. Decorator pattern provides more flexibility than static inheritance. Decorator pattern simplifies the coding. Decorator design pattern allows the extension of object by adding new classes for new behavior or responsibility. Decorator pattern is a…

View On WordPress

0 notes

phanfictioncatalogue · 2 months ago

Text

Monthly Follower Recs

Monthly follower recommendations for the month of January and February 2025

a house made of cards (ao3) - cityofphanchester

Summary: Phil sits on a patterned carpet and touches the edge of an elaborate glass coffee table and contemplates appearances. How it would look if he left early. How it would look if he left with Dan. How it looks, right now, for him not to be talking to anyone.

(vidcon 2014)

baby i’m howell-in’ for you (ao3) - itsmyusualphannie (itsmyusualweeb)

Summary: slapping your past self as soon as you see them probably isn't the best first impression. does meeting yourself even count as a first impression, though?

“Jesus fuck,” Dan huffed.

“What?” demanded the younger Dan, scowling up at him. “As if it isn’t weird to see my own face staring at me? But like, older and wrinklier?”

come and rest your bones (ao3) - queerofcups

Summary: Dan wakes up with electricity running under his skin. His dream is gone like fog through anonymous fingers, but he’s still got the feeling of it settling next to his skin

[a shapes and weights timestamp]

get to heaven in our own sweet time (ao3) - jonsaremembers

Summary: Dan and Phil choose their costume for Halloween 2024. Yeah, it breaks the internet, but they only have eyes for each other.

honey, let's get married (ao3) - manchesterau

Summary: Dan and Phil decide not to have a wedding, but they get married anyway.

If you were a worm (ao3) - Ragopamplina

Summary: Dan and Phil have a conversation about the philosophical question "would you still love me if I was a worm?". Fluff ensues.

pastry chef attempts to steal phil's heart (ao3) - sierraadeux

Summary: If anyone asks, Prince Philip's sneaky morning journeys down to the royal pastry kitchen are for nothing more than the perfect cup of coffee.

raised by other beasts (ao3) - youreabadliar

Summary: They deserve a holiday, just the two of them, and Phil wants Dan all to himself.

shapes and weights to choose (ao3) - queerofcups

Summary: Getting to interview Phil, Phil Lester, feels like the kind of recognition he's been working towards for years and Dan doesn't know how to handle it.

Dan's a sex toy blogger, Phil's a nearly-retired porn star. They fall in love, eventually.

slave to your design (ao3) - manchesterau

Summary: Dan’s eyes bore into his as he waits, like a good boy.

the metaphors of desire (ao3) - cityofphanchester

Summary: The elbow of Dan’s jacket is smooth leather, stitched on, an unexpected contrast from the woolly fabric around it. His mouth is soft and his body is warm and Phil breaks away with a choked gasp of air.

“Shit,” Dan says, and his big warm hand drops away from Phil’s jaw, and he’s gone.

(in which they're both english professors)

the truth universally acknowledged (ao3) - snsk

Summary: In the summer of 1895, Martyn Lester is handed a certain possession of his brother's.

they offered comfort, but comfort isn't you (ao3) - fastforwardty

Summary: Today wasn't going to be a good day.

But it had to be.

In which Dan wakes up feeling depressed and Phil loves to tell stories.

when people that said it was raining all the time (i see sunshine cause i know that you are mine) (ao3) - Atlantis_51

Summary: Phil waits in the cold. He waits until his fingers ache from the breeze that rushes through them. He waits until the crowd dwindles down and he’s left all alone standing alongside the train tracks. He waits until the call aboard the last train rumbles through the high walls of Manchester Train Station. He even waits a little longer, just in case.

// Dan doesn't show up at the train station on that fateful Oct 19th, 2009.

Where the wild things are (ao3) - ottertrashpalace

Summary: A long long time ago, a little boy had found this boat, cobwebbed and stowed away in a strange corner, and he had pushed it out to the shore to set sail, somewhere, anywhere, he didn’t know where to. He sailed and sailed, through years and weeks and days, and felt the sea wind in this strange nighttime place make him a new skin. He felt very brave, that little boy on that little boat.

would you still love me if I was a worm? (ao3) - antiadvil

Summary: Look. Someone had to write this fic.

(Dan asks Phil if he would still love him if Dan was a worm. Phil says no.)

your name — trace it twice (ao3) - queerofcups

Summary: Dan's a writer, more or less. Phil's a podcaster. They fall back in love, eventually.

#phanfictioncatalogue #phanfic #phan #phanfiction #dan and phil #masterlists #fic recs #followerrecs

18 notes · View notes

totothewolff · 2 years ago

Text

Season of Love (1/?)

+18 | Toto x reader fem!teamprincipal, romance, comedy, and some good drama.

Summary: One night on a pier in Monaco, while admiring the sea under the night skies, you tell Toto: "I came to the conclusion that love is simply not meant for me." That's the answer to a question you have been asking yourself for the longest time. But what if he proved you wrong? Author's note: Hi, fam! I'm nervous since this is my very first fanfic. I have been following this tag for a while now, and I got so inspired by all the talent here that I went and wrote my own story. Please be kind to me. English is my second language. I will upload chapters regularly - using this hashtag and on #seasonoflovefic. I have been dealing with anxiety the entire year; writing this has been part of my healing process. I hope you like it. By the way, this story is fun and light-spirited.

< Masterlist | Next chapter >

Dances with Wolff Arc Chapter 1: Engines on and hearts off!

Bahrain

It is a hot and sunny day in Bahrain. Golden hour is set, and every single person in the paddock seems to be in a rush. It is the usual chaos every pre-season brings.

Toto makes his way through the sea of people, cables, tire carts, and cameras at his regular pace - which means those toned and long legs going full speed - rocking this year's Mercedes kit and a new pair of designer sunglasses, phone in hand when it buzzes.

—Breaking news: After lengthy negotiations during the break, the De Vos Group acquired Williams Racing - as speculated. New female owner Y/N De Vos will be joining the paddock this season. The team's principal will soon be announced. Check our exclusive first look with her.

Toto reads on his iPhone after tapping the Sky Sports push notification, slowing his pace a second. He raises an eyebrow and gazes around, noticing many people in the packed pitlane doing the same, slowing the frenzy on the floor for a close bit.

He reaches out for his pockets and puts on the Bose earbuds before hitting the play button. Curiosity is overpowering him - and, honestly, excitement, too - as he looks at the preview thumbnail. A stunning, tan-skinned woman with great, shiny hair and a beautiful smile appears in front of the microphone with a smug smirk.

—God, she's gorgeous —Toto lets out to himself. Continuing his way to the Mercedes garage. This year, it is located one spot before Williams and following Ferrari's.

Finally, something exciting, someone new. After years of dominating the game, trying not to sound too egomaniac, every season starts to feel like routine to him. Toto is hitting a personal low, avoiding calling it what it is: depression mixed with boredom, especially this season and at this moment in his life. Same old tracks, same old challenges, same old people, same old ways, same old Toto.

You answer the interviewer's questions with ease. You are very well-spoken in his eyes like you are used to doing press or public speaking, and you have a cheeky sense of humor. Toto gets captivated, to say the least. He puts his phone into his back pocket and continues walking while listening to your interview, muffling the paddock's noise.

You have a soft voice, a professional speech pattern, and excellent enunciation, reinforcing Toto's idea of you being trained at it. He detects some accent but can't figure out where it is from. He listens to the whole thing; it's impossible for him not to sigh at the stupid questions they ask you a couple of times. The more Toto listens, the more questions he has for you in his mind. He may get them answers later when he finally meets you.

So far, you seem like a breeze of fresh air, and Toto is desperate to breathe you.

And yeah, no question Williams looks different. Toto, as usual, ventures to inspect more than he should - and is allowed to - taking a good peek at your brand-new garage. Knowing quite well, he also is hoping to spot you in person.

The garage looks tech and minimalistic, matching your new modern W logo. Whites, blacks, and touches of grey colors predominated. The lighting, screens, and interior design look so futuristic, expensive, and dope; it's a whole vibe. It is a sexy garage! A phrase he never imagined using. What F1 has done to a man?

Toto can feel the desperate modernity Williams once needed and the resources. Of course, he knew firsthand the Williams family was looking to sell after years of struggling to win races and its economics. Toto remained neutral throughout the process, informed but not too involved. He had felt a little indifferent about the entire ordeal till now.

He hopes not to sound insensitive. Of course, he has a special place in his heart for that team and its people, he first started there, but the businessman side of him knows it is the right call and best for them. Of course, it's sad, but that is the game: evolve or die.

He knows his investment is in good hands because last he had heard, and in Niki's words, it got acquired by a Belgian zillionaire, and Niki reassured him it was a perfect choice. He was respectable and trustworthy, and Toto didn't need to know more. But this sudden change - and announcement - took him a bit by surprise. Little did he know.

Gossip and theories fill the paddock. Supporters and haters - already - are all over social media, typing divided opinions as usual. It is the talk of the town, and you, you are the center of it at this point; there is more to come.

Toto greets his team on his way to his chair, already inside Merc's garage after doing his little on-site research. A couple of pats on the back and hugs later, he makes himself comfortable in his spot while catching up with Bono.

Just as Toto is about to place the headphones on his head, the corner of his eyes caught Samanta, better known as "Sam" - a beautiful, thin, young, pale-skin, platinum blondie - Niki's assistant, hugging you goodbye and walking towards him.

You wave Niki hello from afar and on your way to the W garage.

For the briefest moment, Toto's eyes and yours met. You are more petite than he expects. And you dress very classy and minimal but with a sexy touch. You match the new identity of Williams, or well, Williams matches your style. The Jacquemus "La robe saudade" dress you wear hugs your curves, accentuating your beautiful toned legs and great ass. He couldn't avoid staring you down as you walked past. Sometimes, he was just a simple man.

Toto suddenly feels the Arabic heat rushing through his body.

—Getting up close with the enemy, tearing down its walls, I like your style, evil as I would expect from you —he says to Sam, now next to him, as she takes off her access badge and picks up her tablet from a drawer.

—Bok, dumb. No bad blood! Just a friendly welcome to this testosterone hell, you know, girls being supportive of one another. I'm pretty sure you will like her, and judging by that look you just gave her, I guess you already.

—Začepi, dumber —Toto answers in his usual authoritarian and collected deep voice, but jokingly. He feels his cheeks turning red. —Spill how, when…

—We were roomies a long time ago. I adore her, she's great, strong, intelligent, kind, fun, and so damn hot. That's all you need to know for now, and that's all I'm telling you.

Sam is the youngest daughter of the Dobrev heirs, a very wealthy and old-money Croatian - almost royal - family who owns multiple fleets and half the country, like filthy rich. They are famous for being all platinum blondes, having many scandals, and investing in motor and water sports. They are one of the main Mercedes-AMG sponsors.

As far as Toto knows, Sam doesn't have the best relationship with her family and dislikes talking about it, but he knows she cares a lot about her elder brother, to whom Toto hears her speak on the phone now and then.

After years and years of working and traveling the world together, Sam lets her walls down with Toto, becoming great friends and this sort of family away from family, although she remains pretty reserved on some subjects. He loves her like a little sister. She is pretty younger than him and sometimes reminds him of his own sister. Niki always describes them two as his annoying children, always teasing and bickering at each other when possible. The old man cares so much for them personally and at work, and they do, too.

Toto wonders if by "old roomie" she means ex-girlfriend? He has met some of Samanta's "roomies," and… Toto doesn't feel like pushing. He wonders if you may have someone... You know... As team principal, he has to learn about other teams' dynamics, right?

He tosses the thought off and gets in the zone. They have another title to win.

You hug Samanta goodbye and take a glance at the Merc garage. Sam is family to you, and you heard so much about them and F1 over the years, ever since she moved out of the Manor after having that massive fight with her parents and started working for Mercedes-AMG, swearing to make a living of her own and never needing them EVER again, a bit over dramatic reaction but that who Sam is and you love her that way.

She is also your bestie; you two text each other daily. Thanks to her, you knew everything about everyone in the paddock: the good and bad, scandals, and more. Yet they knew nothing about you. For them, you are brand new and the perfect excuse to gossip about.

And there he is, Torger Christian Wolff, the guy Sam couldn't stop gushing you about. Damn, she is right, Toto is gorgeous. You would feel slightly jealous of their closeness if he wasn't Sam's cup of tea. But you can't get distracted; you have a purpose for being there, and nothing will get in the middle. Even if you are dying to meet him, even if you treasure every detail you know about Toto, even if you have been fantasizing about him for the longest time, not to mention being half in love with the man already or the idea of him. Sam made him sound like such a remarkable and caring human being.

Niki waves hello to you from afar, and you wave back. You adore that old man. He is one of the reasons why the Williams family agreed to sell you the team. Without his support, it wouldn't have been possible.

You met Niki two winters ago; thanks to Sam, you explained to him your motives and why you wanted to buy a team, and he fully agreed to support you and mentor you throughout the whole process. He is a badass and one of the kindest people you have ever met. You immediately felt embraced by the Laudas. Along with Sam, they are among the very few people who know your entire story and genuinely know you, the real you.

Back to the present day. You feel Toto's dark eyes set on you and can't resist ignoring them even if your life depends on it, so you look back at him. For the briefest moment, your eyes met. The desert is too hot, isn't it? Uff, what's going on with this heat? Damn you global warming!

So you better hurry yourself away before it is too late and you dare to get closer to him. You reach your new team's garage at the speed of light, so it is fittable for the place you are at. It feels weird saying "your" so much.

Everything is so different from the world you are used to, but you don't feel nervous. You are a woman on a mission, and after all you have gone through in life, you are not that kind of girl. You bear a challenge.

You greet your team. —He hasn't arrived yet? —you ask the aero performance engineer while he is placing green and yellow dots on the left side of the new car. You reached close to inspect the latest upgrades.

The car is beautiful, matte black with a powerful Lamborghini engine. They are your main sponsor and partner and the only one, which is insanely impressive. No million logos, no visual noise - it is something to see due to F1 budgets.

Commotion and gasps come from the outside. While you ask the engineer that question, a frenzy starts in the front of the garages. You watch camerapersons and fans pass by, running crazy. Total mayhem.

Oh, there he is.

Toto's phone buzzes again - in the middle of that circus - "Breaking news; The legend is BACK. Michael Schumacher joins Williams as Team Principal, son Mick Schumacher, and the sensation of the moment, female driver Millie Dobrev joins him along as drivers."

The FIA, in its many attempts to be perceived as "forward" or "woke," has allowed for the first time mixed-gender racing, starting this season - about damn time! Millie is one of the top female drivers and the youngest, achieving a lot at a young age and becoming a serious threat to everyone on her way.

—Dobrev… Dobrev?! —Toto looks from the photo on his phone screen to Sam and back; a very young petite girl - with sun-kissed skin, short platinum blonde hair with pink ends and clear blue eyes, a round face with delicate features - poses in a pastel color outfit doing a Korean heart gesture with her hands, fingers full of expensive jewelry. —Care to explain?

—Yes, did I mention she's my dear niece? —Sam answers, deadpan.

—The fuck —Toto says —Are all blond Croatians your family? —Toto teases.

—Hilariously accurate —she laughs it off.

—Your niece?! You are like twelve, how old is she, two!? Can't believe you are an aunt already. I don't know what to do with that fact..."

Samanta rolls her eyes. "Thank my gross old uncle with a young trophy wife?" she thinks.

—So you keep secrets from me, huh? I thought ours was special.

—You give yourself too much importance. And yes, that's why my hair grew bigger during the break. It's full of secrets! —Sam replies. Swinging her long, straight locks.

—What??? —Toto doesn't get her Mean Girls reference.

—Sometimes I forget you are prehistoric, almost fossil.

They both fulminate each other with gazes in a classic and frequent stare-down. Then Sam proceeds to cross tasks on her tablet, slowly stepping away.

—Don't you dare run away from me! You have things to explain, missy.

—Sorry, I'm so busy right now, unlike you.

—I'm busy.

—No, you are not; you are trying to gossip!

—I'm always busy. I'm this team's principal, to remind you, so yes, I'm important, and maybe… maybe… I'm trying to gossip… a little bit —Toto gestures with his hand.

—Could you two stop?! —Niki calls it quits, half annoyed, half laughing, struggling to hear clearly what the tactics team is trying to tell him, turning around on his barstool and waving his hand at them.

Toto and Sam laugh softly, and Toto makes a small O with his mouth while Sam pretends to adjust her invisible tie before returning to business and being professional people doing professional tasks.

Toto looks once more at his phone screen. —Impressive —it's all he lets out. Toto can't wait. He can't wait.

It's been a long time since Michael set foot on the paddock, after years of being retired and living almost exclusively to recover - after his infamous accident - and trying to enjoy being a father and a husband when possible. He became this mythical figure that existed in F1 and people's minds but is nowhere to be seen, making him feel like a ghost. Nowadays, he is doing way better but was getting bored of being a recluse at home waiting for the right moment, for that one sign that make it all start over for him.

And there she is, in front of him, doing a fake courtesy.

—Welcome back, Kaiser —you joke with him.

—Hi, boss! —Michael greets you with a thick German accent and sweet voice. —Sorry about that! —He pushes you aside as a photographer flashes photos. The lens almost hits you in the face while two other cameramen bump into each other. —Better if we go inside. There's lots to talk about and to get ready to start testing. This is bonkers! —he finishes saying, looking at the circus surrounding you two.

—Okay. Let's go then, Schumi —you reply to him.

You feel ready.

The testing goes out smoothly for Mercedes. There are just a few sensor improvements and small details to fix, but only a little to worry about. Lewis and George seem happy with their car's performance, and the team feels optimistic.

As for Toto, his day was stressful; he felt exhausted after many meetings and people asking him questions all day, demanding his attention at all times. The hours went at an alarming speed. Somehow, the day is done, but the amount of work has just started. He blinks and is dark already, and the chauffeur is now driving him to his suite in a high-end hotel.

Tomorrow is a crucial day for the team, and his schedule is full of press, too. So he needs a good night of beauty sleep; at the moment, he looks like trash and feels like it. Toto likes to keep it real. He loves the attention of being under the reflectors and calling the shots but still isn't a massive fan of media day.

Speaking of the devil, he takes out his phone and opens his news app. Toto relaxes in the big luxury car seat. He has bookmarked several sites that cover F1, his long, unhealthy habit. He likes to stay current, even if he has "briefing" and a person in charge of doing that.

Even though he doesn't want to feel like a stalker, he pretty much is acting like it. Toto refreshes the app to read the latest news about Williams and you. He learns all he can of you from the newly released press articles; there is little about your background, past, or in general; all he keeps reading appears to be PR-approved since it is constantly reprised on different platforms, which feels weird.

Google doesn't offer him much either, just a couple of articles with photos in which you appear in various charity events related to children's foundations. It is like you don't exist online.

Toto reads your most recent interview and Michael's, and you both appear in good spirits about your car performance. He hates losing but loves a good challenge. A good old-fashioned on-track battle. For a change.

The bellboy opens the suite's double doors for him and carries Toto's things inside. It is a massive entrance and makes him feel tiny in comparison. Toto notices a small LV suitcase in front of the large door, next to a big antique wooden carved table, in the middle of the foyer under the soft dim coming from a stunning Tiffany's chandelier, which lits the room and reflects on the exquisite tile walls. The Arabic architecture and interior design of the place are breathtaking.

It means Susie has stopped by. Their relationship is in a weird spot, in one of those hiccups they face occasionally after dating forever and from a very young age. Their relationship at the moment feels monotonous, and love is lacking, which is slowly killing him. He still loves her very much but could sense he is losing her. Especially since they started seeing each other less and less - although he wouldn't blame anyone who has to bear with his crazy schedule - they almost stopped texting and talking to each other, too, and sex is nonexistent. So many red flags.

—Hi, schatzi —Toto greets her.

—Hi, Toto —she gives him a quick kiss. —You look tired.

—I am, but I'm happy you are here —he says, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his temple on hers. Soon after, he lifts Sussie from the ground into a tight hug. There is a clear height difference.

—I know. I'm happy to see you too, even if it's for a brief moment. I was hoping you got free sooner. Our jet has permission to take off in an hour exactly.

—I'm sorry, today was crazy —Toto apologizes.

—I can imagine. I tried to communicate with you earlier, but it was impossible to reach you; it was almost like you were avoiding me.

God, she knows him so well. Yes, he has been avoiding her - although not today, he honestly had a crazy day - but since they had that awkward and hurtful conversation at their New Year's Eve reception at their house in Oxford. Not because he is angry at her or scared, he misses her a lot. It's just he has been unable to decide and come up with an answer to the situation.

—I wanted to clear things out between us before the start of the season. I'm aware that from now on, you only get busier and more challenging to reach, and my schedule this year is also insane, Sussie says.

—Yes, love. Tell me what you need?

—Your thoughts.

—On what? —Toto pretends to be confused and not get what she is referring to.

—Come on, Torger. Would you like me to remind you of our last conversation at New Year's?

Silence.

The last time they saw each other in person was months ago. He panicked after that conversation and left for Austria, calling it a business trip and a visit to his sister to spend time with his nephews. She didn't follow him around. Because it was clear he was running away and needed time alone without her.

—So... as I mentioned to you that night... You wanted to try for children this year, and I let you know I didn't see that happening this year or any year. And that I have been feeling increasingly lonely since you spent most of your days away. Honestly, every day, we spend more time away from each other. My career keeps taking off, and I'm not raising children on my own amidst it! I can't even imagine the idea of being pregnant to start with! Plus, you said there's no way you are quitting your job, and I'm neither, so...

—I didn't say that. That's not how it went —Toto feels his head hurting now. He rubs his forehead, exasperated hearing Sussie's Director's Cut version of the events. "It went more like this: I don't get your full attention at all times like before, I'm not able to control you as I once did, and every time you ask me to spend time together, me traveling to you or you traveling to me, if it's not the way I want it I always come up with something to avoid it. Plus, I never mentioned to you before that I didn't want children, not once in the thousand times we discussed family and raising kids together, ah! And I always blame your job as the reason why things aren't working between us." That's how it happened, Toto thinks.

—The point is... —Sussie ignores him. Throwing him a look. —We didn't reach a middle ground but chose not to break things off immediately because none of us felt sure.

There is a pause and a big exhale from her.

—That's why I suggested exploring having an open relationship. We would establish rules and limits. I know you are more traditional and don't envision this for us, but I wanted you to think about it and give it a chance, not to run away and avoid me after suggesting it. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to be with someone else behind your back because I still love you, and I want us to work. I feel we both need someone who is present in our lives to touch us and hold us when we feel like it.

Toto feels crushed. All he wants is to settle down, start a family, and become a good father - as his father was to him - he never expected Sussie to go in the opposite direction. His intention has never been to make her choose between a career or kids. This isn't the case. It is going to be a two-person job. Besides that, they have all the privileges, resources, and support to successfully achieve being both parents and having careers simultaneously. —This isn't the right moment for this conversation. I had an...

—It's never the right moment for you! Christ's sake, Toto! I..! —Sussie starts losing it and gets emotional. He can't avoid feeling miserable. Suddenly, Toto felt the day's weight on his shoulders and back, which was killing him now; he needed a soft mattress to lay down so desperately. He doesn't want to make the drama bigger.

—Okay, easy, love —he hugs her. —I will think about it and give you an answer this week.

—You promise? Won't you run away from it anymore?

—I promise. I won't.

—This week, Toto! —Sussie wipes her tears, hugs him once more, and kisses him goodbye. —Let me know.

—Yes, this week. I will.

She grabs her suitcase and exits through the doors. Toto drags himself to bed with the remains of his energy, tosses his phone on the wireless charger nightstand, and lets himself drop on the mattress, face down. As he drifts away, a new notification red dot appears in the news app.

Now, an open relationship looks like an acceptable idea.

He falls asleep.

The view from your suite is impressive. Bahrain's entire skyline of modern skyscrapers is lit under the night skies, and the desert surrounding it looks beautiful through the floor-to-ceiling panoramic windows.

It isn't your first time in Western Asia, but your first time traveling so far from home on your own. This hotel is insanely expensive, and the suite is humongous for you by yourself. If you weren't so used to inhabiting a massive, almost empty Manor with you as your own company, you would have felt anxious in such an isolated, huge, and quiet space.

It is already late at night to text Samanta and meet her to chat. You both have work tomorrow and need to rest. But you have so much to catch up on - since yesterday? - No, but seriously, a lot had happened during your first day at the paddock.

As you are relaxing in the bathtub - you chose a bath bomb made of sea salt soap and local herbs with delicious scents - you let your mind go through all the day's events. You can't stop thinking of that pair of dark eyes going all over your body. You wanted to do the same. You wanted to admire him all.

You have created many scenarios of what it would be like to meet him. But it went so differently than what you pictured. He doesn't even know who you are or doesn't even care about you. You two could become friends in the future, but for now, your feelings for him are all over the place, and you don't wish to let your heart shatter, not again. Besides, he has Sussie - of course, you have no idea what those two are going through - and you, well, who would want to be with you and your whole "situation"? Your chances with him are zero minus a hundred.

You do your skincare routine before sending yourself to bed - for sure, you will be visiting the hotel's spa in the following days - already dreading tomorrow, a day full of meetings and interviews, you are slightly nervous about what the press is going to ask you, even if Michael does the heavy lifting for you in those matters, everyone seems so curious about you.

You turn the lights off and pray for a good night of sleep, free of the frequent nightmares you experience.

The following day, the driver's parade happens inside walls, while all drivers gather together in a small meeting room - a very office-looking space with sad, white-empty walls, gray carpeting, and way too lit up. Cold lighting is the worst! No F1 glamor on sight - this is part of one of the new progressive and "brilliant" ideas from the FIA.

Chaos is unleashed as everyone looks for a chair with their name tag.

—Did everyone see her? —Lando asks loudly to the entire room - filled at the moment just by drivers - He is sitting backward in his chair, on the front row, facing the rest. He is wearing his McLaren kit and cap, which is worn backward.

—Yes, we all did. Unless you live under a rock, you have missed that circus, but coming from you, it wouldn't surprise me —Checo answers, joking.

Lando purposely ignores him and throws him a dirty look and a kiss. —Then, ladies… From 1 to 10, how hard would you bang her? Starting with you, Seb —he asks everyone.

—Seriously, mate? So… sexist… —Vettel answers.

—Come on, bee-guy. What? It's just friendly chit-chat among us drivers, as the FIA would love to remind us, "This meeting's purpose is to establish communications between all teams drivers, their principals, along with the FIA representatives to build relationships and sportsmanship among-"

—Stop reading from the sign, idiot —Carlos says, following Lando's gaze to the sad poster pin crooked on the open door.

—Fine, but let's be honest here: she's the most exciting thing to happen to us in a while, not to mention the most recent. It's not like we are going to admire new guy Yuki's hips. All here have excellent vision, and she looked so FINE like you pervs didn't notice.

—Speak for yourself —Pierre answers jokingly, coming through on his way to his chair, passing in front of Lando in that reduced space, trying not to step on someone. Everyone laughs.

—She is so out of your league anyway; why bother? —Max mentions from the corner, sitting stretched out, his back against the wall, legs on top of the chair beside him. —And I agree with Pierre, Yuki's hips are immaculate, by the way.

—If someone cares, I think my vision is starting to fail me. I will need glasses soon —Nando jokes.

—Don't you worry, abuelo! It's just you getting even more ancient —Pato adds.

—I thought this meeting was for drivers? I mean real ones —Alonso jokes back.

—Oh, mate, low punch! I saw some of her interviews on telly; she is cheeky —George adds, drinking from a Merc bottle and standing near the door.

—Couldn't sound more British if you tried —Bottas adds.

—He is your Royal Highness, Prince George —Lewis jokes.

—More like your Royal Ass-ness —Leclerc adds amidst laughs.

—I saw her interviews too! It's like Ricciardo got female, but was actually funny and hot —Lando replies.

—Fuck you, mate —Daniel answers, laughing. —You know, she could breastfeed you.

—I wouldn't mind —Lando kids, hitting Dani - sat beside him - on the ribs with his elbow. Today, he is set to act like a naughty boy.

—Lando!! —four drivers say in unison, in shock.

—You're so gross, mate, I swear —Lewis adds simultaneously, palm on his face, half laughing, half wanting to rip his own ears off.

—I'm pretty sure that would be so illegal. I don't want to go to jail, Mr. Officer! —you say, entering through the door. Everyone turns to look at you. You overhear that part of the conversation; it doesn't feel mean-spirit. Then Lando's face matches the red color on Charles' shirt as he slowly turns around on his chair and sits - the proper way - quiet and still. It's a hilarious scene.

—I'm not into minors, but I could change your diaper and read you some bedtime stories to make you fall asleep. "The Little Orange Tin" you would love —you joke to break off the tension.

Michael follows you inside, laughing under his breath. You two take your seats and start chatting casually, two places away. You are seated next to Lewis - to your right - and to an empty chair with no tag to your left by the end of the row.

You are already a fan of Lewis. And again, you know so much about him because of Sam. Now, he is her favorite person on earth. You feel slightly hurt by that fact, but he sounds lovely, so honestly, it doesn't bother you.

—Hi, I'm Lewis —he offers you a fist bump.

—Hi, Lewis. I'm Y/N

—How is F1 treating you? All good? —Sebastian asks you, popping out from Lewis's right. Both their attention to you. Heavens, those are some beautiful eyes. You can't figure out if they are green or blue, but you don't want to stare too long.

Sebastian's actual chair is next to Charles, some rows at the front, but he sits next to Lewis because he feels like it. Messing the order. An anarchist at heart.

—All good, thank you —you answer. —It's been chaotic, but I'm enjoying it. And I'm eager for the first race.

—Me too. I always miss driving during breaks —Lewis tells you.

—I agree —Seb adds. —It is the best feeling in the world, so it's hard to let go.

Then Millie enters the room - pink cat-ears headphones on, rocking the new Williams kit: A minimalistic stretchy sports jersey, a white tee with black seams, and the W logo in black print at the center of the chest. It is a fully fitted silhouette with a high neckline and short sleeves, paired with some sleek black sports slacks.

Michael and you point Millie to the chair next to Michael - with her name tag - she gets there fast and takes off one side of her headphones.

—What up! —Millie greets. —Hi, Sebs!, Hi Lew! —she says extra sweetly and high-pitched tone, waving a hand while facing them. That girl is like a walking cartoon. She looks extra petite and young among those guys.

—Hi, Millie!!! —both of them answer in unison, with the same sweet-pitched tone. It's a cute moment.

Then, the room starts to fill up. And the FIA representative enters, meaning the meeting is about to begin.

A very rushed Mick gets in, also wearing the team's kit. Millie raises a hand and waves it, catching his attention. He moves very fast to his seat. And behind him enters Mattia and Toto, chatting with each other.

Holy shit. The fact that Toto would be there didn't cross your silly mind. And since Seb swapped chairs. The one where he sat belonged to Toto. So the chair next to you is empty and available for the Austrian. You see Mattia sit on the last free spot at the front, and Toto glances around, confused, till he spots the space to your side. You see him walk towards you almost in slow motion. And you set your mind to "if I pretend to not notice him, it means he's not there."

You sense him sitting only inches from you, his arm skin almost touching yours. While you keep your eyes locked straight ahead, point to the FIA guy without daring to move. He stretches while trying to adjust himself to a comfortable position. He is tall and muscular, and these chairs are a joke. His knee moves dangerously close to yours. For a moment, you see the inevitable contact coming. And your heartbeat starts to rise. But it doesn't happen. Damn, he smells so good! How on earth are you to get focus?

And then the meeting begins.

The whole thing is lame. You and Lewis laugh several times at Seb's under-his-breath comments and jokes about what is happening right at the moment. The German has excellent timing and good puns and one-liners. Those two seem like besties, Lewis being the "serious" of the pair; go figure!

The open mic section starts and the FIA guy offers the microphone around. Lewis instantly and discreetly crosses an arm over Seb's hands, and Vettel raises his eyebrows. —Freedom of speech, much? —Sebastian jokes.

—What are you going to ask? Seriously? —Lewis tells him.

—I have a genuine question!

—Why I don't believe you.

—Like why? You don't trust me?

—Oh, I do, but...

—But then... let me grab the mic.

Lewis lets out a sigh. Seb raises a hand, now free from Lewis's grip. And the microphone goes to him.

—Check, check —The entire room pays him attention. —Ahm, I have a question for you all.

—Yes, please, go ahead —The poor FIA guy looks overly excited that someone cares enough to say something. Most of them, not to say all of them, look forced to be there, bored, and by that point, so done with this meeting.

—Gentlemen, a short view back to the past. Thirty years ago, Niki... —The more he talks, the louder everyone laughs. Michael loses it. Sebastian recites the whole thing by heart.

What an icon.

The FIA guy couldn't look more confused.

You hear Toto's laugh for the first time; he has been sitting there quietly this entire time. You briefly and occasionally feel his gaze set on you, but you don't dare to turn, look, or talk to him. You know very well that any moment of weakness from you means your doom. Back to Toto's laugh. What is that heaven-sent sound? You want more. How can you get more? Can someone get addicted to a sound?

—Blimey, I knew it! —Lewis lets out, shaking his head and also smiling.

With that question, it is clear the meeting has ended.

As everyone is getting on their feet, you feel Toto purposely caressing his arm against yours as he gets on his feet and then walks to the exit without looking back at you. Your eyes follow him around till you lose sight. Sweet baby Jesus, those toned arms.

Race day arrives.

The Sahkir circuit is a whole party, and the atmosphere is to the roof. All drivers get in position after the entourages move quickly out of the way. The chaos on the track dissipates within seconds.

Then, after the formation lap, the red lights turn off, and the violent roars from the engines fill your ears. Oh, what a sound, now you are addicted to it.

After a great start from your team and almost two hours later, Lewis and Millie face down in a back-to-back battle. Switching positions 3 times in the final ten laps. It is a monumental effort from the drivers, teams, and their strategies. Emotions are on edge at the pitlane and at the benches.

Millie crosses the line first, less than half a second ahead, and fireworks go up in the air. Fans roar, and you all go nuts! Your crew runs to the pit wall fence, climbing it up and waving as she passes by, lots of fist pumps onto the air. It's your first podium! Your? Like you did something, lol. Your team gets their first podium!! - better - it is a great start. And for the first time in forever, you feel alive and cheerful.

Amidst hugs and pats on the back from crew members and supporters, you make your way to the podium area, following Michael. He is dragging you along; you are in a blur with all that adrenaline rushing through your veins, the noise, the lights, and the crowds.

During the podium ceremony, when the Croatian anthem plays - you are now surrounded by all three teams' entourages, all watching the ceremony together and supporting their driver - you notice Millie getting emotional. It is a first for her, too. And when it finishes, everyone around you starts cheering and clapping like maniacs for her as she raises and kisses the trophy.

Michael, right next to your side, takes off his white W cap before Millie, and she gestures a praying sign with her hands from high above the podium to thank him and thank you. You blow her a kiss just before rivers of champagne fill the place.

Millie is the sweetest. You felt a genuine connection from the first moment you met her - a couple of months ago at the new Williams headquarters - before she agreed to sign the deal. She trusts you, and you believe in her. So you are on this journey together and feel so happy for her.

You get so distracted by these thoughts and others, too, that you don't notice the place started to empty. When you return to reality, you turn around to leave, following Michael's steps, and almost crash into someone walking in the opposite direction. You are left facing a very nice-looking chest - mere inches away from your face - wearing a white Mercedes shirt. You raise your gaze from those fine pecs that belong to Toto and look at his handsome face.

—Hi... —He says, looking down at you, he is way taller than you.

—H-h...i —You feel weak on the knees.

—I-I..

—I... I'm.

You both say at the same time. You step to the left, and Toto steps to the left synchronously.

—Sor..ry-y.

—So-rry.

You both keep talking over each other. So Toto moves aside, gesturing with his hand to let you go through first.

—Nice meeting you —you say calmly and quickly rush away.

—Same —he replies, following you with his gaze and watching you walk away. You feel he wants to say more, and you do, too, but it is better this way.

"What the fuck was that. Why on earth were you so nervous, girl? It was like you forgot how to speak!" You think.

"The fumes in the garage are starting to affect me," Toto thinks. "Is she running away from me? Yeah... The fumes are definitely affecting me. Damn, she walks fast."

Australia

Thanks to poor scheduling and the worst jet traffic, Michael and you aren't able to land on time. All tracks are being used at the moment, so you get sent to another terminal further away from the circuit. Qualy for the Australian GP is about to start, and obviously, you two are running late.

A Lamborghini Sian car is already waiting for you when you land. So you ask the chauffeur to toss the car keys to Michael. —We have like ten minutes to be there —you tell Schumi.

—Understood, boss.

You instantly regret phrasing it like that. Schumi is driving like a madman while getting directions from the chauffeur in the backseat. Michael pushes the engine to the limit, and the car goes full speed. You feel your body melting with the car seat as you hang for your dear life to the seatbelt. Ten minutes was a say, you didn't truly mean it, let's try another one: To get there alive if possible, this one you meant it.

Michael enters the staff parking lot at the Melbourne circuit by taking an extreme corner still at full force. The two security guys sprint to open the gates; it is that or get run over.

Once you get in, you see him letting the wheel go a second, and the car starts spinning around - it twirls at an alarming speed. "Am I going to get projected out of this window?" you think. And in just one wild movement, he parallels parks, tires burning. The Fast and Furious stunts were a kid's play next to his. Everyone stares at the scene, astounded.

—9.48.00 minutes, boss —Schumi says. Turning off the engine while checking his Rolex Daytona.

He was insane for this.

—Well, I hope you are as fast on your feet as you were on this car —You joke, grabbing your purse and access badge while getting out of the vehicle, heels hitting the ground like nothing had happened. Because, above everything, you are a bad bitch.

—Are you? —he dares you. Walking past the front of the car, catching your step.

—Haven't you seen my legs?! —You joke. Toned they are.

—You make the 100-meter dash athletes jealous —He jokes back.

You are going to get so many fines. So many.

You two make it to the W garage on time. You "fashion walk" there, according to the people who mock you. Since you don't feel like blending in with the mechanics - and because of your outfits and looks. The Williams garage is located dead last on the pitlane, so you have to walk in front of all other teams' garages to get there every time - expensive bag-swinging in the air, designer heels clacking on the floor, always wearing a chic something; dresses, shorts, skirts - as if they don't enjoy it! Of course, you expected toxic masculinity and sexism on your way, especially since your team is dominating! But not this early on.

—You are late! —Millie jumps at you.

—Let's not talk about it. I'm going to need therapy, thanks to that experience.

—What?! —She looks at you with a funny face.

—Nevermind. All ready?

—Do I look like ready? —She says, gesturing at herself. She is wearing an oversized lilac tee - at least twice her size - and a white tennis mini-skirt with matching white Jordans.

She follows you to the dressing rooms right across from your remote office, where you quickly leave your purse and stuff inside. As you two get there, Millie tells you how excited she is that Sanrio offered to design her helmet for Suzuka before going to change.

—What do you think? Is it too much? —she asks you. Inviting you into her custom dressing room and pointing around. It looks like Minisio had puked that room out.

—Is very you! —you answer.

—I know, right!!! —she gives you a big dumb smile.

—Are your boobs out? —Mick asks while entering through her dressing room doors - eyes closed, arms extended in front, walking mummy-like - not seeing you there, obviously.

—What?! No! —Millie answers as Loretta (her trainer slash assistant) finishes suiting her up.

—Great! I can open my eyes then! —he says.

—I don't think there's much to see, Mick —Millie jokes while putting on a sad face and looking down at her chest. —Two lemons, barely.

—I don't think Marc from statistics thinks the same. I saw him trying to find them —He jokes. Mick gains a smack on the arm.

Millie's popularity has skyrocketed; she is already a paddock favorite. By this point, she had already rejected three engineers who asked her out - not because of ego, being rude, or wanting to break hearts - but because she is so clueless and a shy dork with zero social skills, in her own words: "I communicate better with cars and engines than with people, at least I know how to work them."

—Kids, kids! —you say, amused at the scene.

—Oh, hi, boss! I didn't notice you there —Mick looks at you, a bit embarrassed.

—No worries —You are glad those two are getting along well.

Mick drops himself on the fluffy pink oval puff in one of the corners. One leg up.

—Why are you here on my land? —Millie asks.

—Oh yeah. I came to say something —Mick adds like he is just remembering. —Yes! My father is waiting for you two to start the team's meeting. Everyone is there already. It's urgent. So hurry.

—Oh god, and you just let us know now.

The three of you get on your feet real fast.

After a good team catch-up and an impeccable motivational speech from Michael, all of you get to your positions inspired and ready to give it all.

As the Qualy starts, you turn to Michael. —You are a great leader, you know? We are lucky to have you —you tell him.

—I'm glad to be here, more than you imagine, boss.

Millie secures a pole position. Sparks flyed. Damn, that car was fast, and she, she was faster!

When the workday is done, you wait for Sam across from Merc's hospitality. It's getting dark.

You are sitting on a bench a few meters away, next to a tree with beautiful yellow flowers, looking at your phone and minding your business, avoiding looking like a threat near competitors' territory.

—Waiting for Sam? —Toto asks you from the other side - at the bottom of the stairs of their main cafeteria entrance - you raise your gaze at the sound of his voice.

—Yes! Hi! Will she be taking long? —You can't avoid smiling at him and sound slightly nervous.

—No, she is on her way, but I must warn you, she's been insufferable the entire day. She had one of those, what she calls it? A bad ha...

—A bad hair day —you both finish in unison. —Yikes! How bad it was? The hair? I mean.

—Oh, terrible! I had to look at it all day —he answers jokingly, putting an ew face. Toto walks towards you and sits on the bench by your side, stretching his legs and resting one on top of the other.

The truth is, Samanta doesn't have naturally straight locks; she has long, curly hair she straightens. And sometimes, some days, some weather gave her that wavy, frizzy, wild, non-combable hair.

—You are such an inspiration, a true survivor. Tell me all about your journey —You make him laugh, you love that. More, please.

The door interrupts you two as you both smile at each other like dumbs and lock eyes. Sam goes out, black Merc hoodie on, covering almost her entire face, overdramatic as usual.

—Rocking the Palpatine? —you tease her.

—Hilarious. Bad hair day. I look like Monica Geller on that trip to the beach beneath this —she says with sarcasm. Toto laughs. —Ah, now that reference you get —Sam rolls her eyes.

—Jezz, that mood, huh? A few drinks will get you through these dark times, my friend. Let's go! —you add.

—Oh no, I'm not going.

—What?! Why?! Why are you like this, Samanta?!

—No, why is humidity a thing? Who needs it?

—Aem, all of Australia's wildlife? —Toto adds.

—Shut up, smarty pants —Sam lets out.

—You look like Hagrid —he replies.

—Torger, don't test me, I swear —she warns him, fingers rubbing her forehead.

—So, when will you be available then? —you ask her, cutting off the bickering.

Sam opens her weather app to check the humidity levels. —Ahm, like next week? Not in Australia?

—Are you serious, dude?! I already booked! —You two were going to that Michelin star blindfolded dining and drinking experience. It was so on trend that booking a table there was Melbourne's most challenging and expensive thing at the moment.

—Sorry, I'm not going out looking like this! But for sure Toto could join you! He desperately needs to get some of that stress out of his system. He's getting meaner.

—What!? Me, the meaner one? —Toto lets out.

—What?! Sam! No, no. He is probably busy, and I don't want to bo... —you add, quickly, getting nervous while trying not to show it.

She interrupts you.

—Busy?! No, he is just in an antisocial mood swing. Toto barely left his office today! All grumpy, he was inside there. Besides, didn't you, my guy, tell me you were going straight to your hotel to lock yourself and binge-watch Love Island while eating ice cream straight from the bucket? —Sam teases him, well aware Toto is feeling low - more like heartbroken - Sam hates Sussie, but of course, she will never admit it publicly, and definitely not to him. This is her weird way of showing him her support by setting him up to go out and have fun with a great person instead of being miserable and all alone. Classic Sam.

—What? No. What's Love Island? I wasn't being antisocial; I had a ton of work today, unlike you —He answers deadpan.

—Do you even own a TV? —Sam is seriously curious.

—Of course, I do! Several, in fact —It doesn't mean he watches them.

—You must be rich! —you joke. He smiles.

—Yeah, whatever. Come on! Get to know each other! Have a good time on me and my hair's behalf —Sam grabs you both, each by the arm, and walks you towards the exit.

—Is it me, or is she getting worse with age? —You address Toto.

—No question!

—Hey! You can't trash-talk me! —Sam complains.

—Oh, that's all we will be doing; we are going to talk so much trash about you, piles of it, that the garbage collector will plead to us no more —you mock her.

—I'm hating this already! —Sam crosses her arms.

Well, now you have a date with Toto. A date, yeah, in your dreams.

To be continued... < Masterlist | Next chapter >

Join us at The Wolff Pack Discord Server > https://discord.com/invite/tpgArxqbfd

346 notes · View notes

sweaterkittensahoy · 2 years ago

Text

As Long as I'm Thinking about Job Interview Stuff

Here's my general pattern for answering the "Tell us about time you failed / dealt with a bad co-worker / had to struggle to complete something /etc."

These questions are asked to suss out if you're an asshole. The reason there's more than one of them is to see if you have a shit talking problem that can take a little time to show itself. Basically, interviewers are trying to get a sense of if you're gonna be a fucking problem once you're comfortable at a new workplace.

I literally once watched myself lose a job because the managers asked, "How do you deal with people who might be temperamental at times?" It was a software company, so I figured they meant "At least one of our engineers is a huge asshole, but we think he's worth keeping around even if he yells at people." And so I said, "Look, we all have our moments, and I do my best to be understanding if someone's having a tough time. I think it's important to remember we're all working together and trying to make something succeed. That being said, if the problem is I'm getting yelled at because someone else is being unprofessional, I'm not going to stand there and allow that abuse. I will be talking to HR, at a minimum, and if that doesn't resolve it, I will take care of it myself."

And, let me be clear, the moment any positive vibes left the room was when I said, "I'm not gonna stand there and allow that abuse." Which told me EXACTLY how they were handling the situation currently.

Anyway, sorry for the recipe blog wander. Back to the point. Here's how I handle the questions where they want you to discuss something negative.

I take a moment to think. Yes, I know the question is coming and already have a few options picked for an answer, but taking a moment to think before answering means I'm not gonna stumble over my words when I start.

Start with the negative. If the question is, "Tell us about dealing with a difficult co-worker," Start at the problem. "Well, I remember once I worked with someone who really didn't like answering questions via email."

Explain why it made the job difficult. "Given that what I do is focused on getting things written down, I prefer sending questions via email whenever possible so I always have a clear starting point on the information I use, even if the information changes a lot through conversation."

Restate the problem as the beginning of the solution. "But, this person didn't like to answer questions in writing, so I started going over to his desk and asking him the questions."

Say something nice about the problem. "He was great face-to-face. Always happy to help."

Explain the solution. "And it turned out he was happy to read anything I would print out and hand him. So, I'd go ask him the questions, go back to my desk and do a first draft based on what he'd said, and then give him a physical copy to mark up."

Stamp a positive final remark on it. "Once I realized how to best communicate with him, he was very open to helping. If I walked over with a first draft, he'd just look at it right then so I could make updates as quickly as possible. And he started letting me know if there were any major design changes on the way and explaining it to me earlier in the process, which made it easier to make updates."

That's my technique. The biggest thing of it, I think, is to make sure your answer is sincere. Don't use a situation where you still want to shove someone into traffic. Pick a situation where you feel like it actually turned out well in the end.

#job interviews #job hunting #employment #interview questions #interview tactics

222 notes · View notes

revenantghost · 1 year ago

Text

Kenji Muto's Twitter Posts: Part 1

Before and while Tristamp was airing, Kenji Muto made some amazing Twitter posts giving us lore and production tidbits along the way. And while I don't speak Japanese (so I'm going to have to use Google Translate for this, so take everything you read here with a grain of salt because it may be skewed by mistranslation), there was some fantastic art and really cool concepts shared, and I want to archive anything Trigun-related. If I miss anything, let me know!) It starts a little slow with stuff we already know, but there are some interesting tidbits! If anyone who knows Japanese wants to correct anything, please feel free! Now, without further ado...

Part 1 [here]

Part 2

12:23 AM · Jul 4, 2022

Twitter始めました。 TRIGUN STAMPEDE監督の武藤です。

I started Twitter. This is Muto, director of TRIGUN STAMPEDE.

1:41 AM · Jul 7, 2022

シリーズ長編初監督です。田島光二さんによる美しいコンセプトアートとキャラクター原案をベースに、壮大な世界観を作っています。順次、新しい情報が解禁されるはず。お楽しみに。 #TRIGUN

This is my first time directing a feature-length series. We have created a magnificent worldview based on the beautiful concept art and character designs by Koji Tajima. New information should be released one after another. looking forward to. #TRIGUN

7:27 AM · Aug 3, 2022

公式HPにある花守さんの「依存と執着」という表現は的確だと思った。最も行動原理を組み立てるのに時間のかかったキャラクター、少年ナイ。服に浮かぶ不思議な模様も田島光二氏によるデザイン。果たして、どんな意味が込められているのか。写真は、追加で届いたロサンゼルス土産。 #TRIGUN

I thought that Mr. Hanamori's expression of ``dependence and attachment'' on the official website was accurate. Shonen Nai is the character that took the most time to formulate his behavioral principles. The mysterious patterns that appear on the clothes are also designed by Koji Tajima. What kind of meaning does it really contain? The photo shows an additional souvenir from Los Angeles. #TRIGUN

12:15 AM · Aug 23, 2022

公式のコンセプトアート公開、なぜか少年時代編が多いなぁ。原作漫画で、ナイが奏でている、オルガンのような、ピアノのような楽器。どうゆう感情で弾いているのか、誰を想って弾いているのか。そういえばあのコンセプトアートはいつ公開なのだろう。いつ解禁になるのだろう。 #TRIGUN

For some reason, most of the official concept art released is from the boyhood version. In the original manga, Nai plays an organ-like or piano-like instrument. How do you feel when you play, and who do you have in mind when you play? Come to think of it, when will that concept art be released? When will it be lifted? #TRIGUN

3:42 AM · Aug 31, 2022

出社したら壁にTRIGUN STAMPEDEのポスターが貼られていた。ちなみにお隣のポスターは、初演出デビュー時代からお世話になっている松見真一監督のTVアニメBEASTARS。第二弾ポスターも鋭意製作中。 #TRIGUN

When I arrived at work, there was a TRIGUN STAMPEDE poster on the wall. By the way, the poster next to me is of the TV anime BEASTARS, directed by Shinichi Matsumi, which I have been supporting since its debut. The second poster is also in the works. #TRIGUN

5:43 AM · Sep 4, 2022

演出用に作ってもらったマザーシップの立体造形。絶妙に捻れていて、左右対称でデザインされてるわけではないので、３面図起こしがとにかく難しい。レム・セイブレムは五番艦。大墜落を免れたのは三番艦。日曜出社の私は現在、音響ブース。 #TRIGUN

A three-dimensional model of the mothership made for the performance. It's exquisitely twisted and not designed with left and right symmetry, so it's difficult to draw it from three sides. Rem Saverem is the fifth ship. The third ship survived the crash. I come to work on Sunday and am currently working in the sound booth. #TRIGUN

11:10 PM · Sep 13, 2022

相手に説明することで、アタマの中が整理されてゆく。感覚を理屈に落とし込む、言語化って大切。雑誌の対談取材、刺激になるので今後も積極的に行いたい。でも、想定外の質問やアドリブ対応は苦手だったりする。 #TRIGUN

By explaining things to the other person, your mind will be organized. It is important to translate feelings into logic and verbalize them. I would like to continue doing interview interviews for magazines, as they are very stimulating. However, I am not good at handling unexpected questions and improvisation. #TRIGUN

12:25 AM · Oct 17, 2022

ようやくお披露目です。セルルックのCGで作ったポスター第二弾、見た目以上に手間かかってます。まだ名前を公表できない敏腕スタッフたちが、陰ながら活躍してくれました。よく見ると本編内容のヒントが隠されているので、宝探しのように楽しんでほしい。予告編第２弾も解禁です。 #TRIGUN

It's finally unveiled. The second poster made with cell-look CG takes more time than it looks. The talented staff, whose names cannot yet be made public, have been working behind the scenes. If you look closely, there are hidden hints about the main story, so please enjoy it like a treasure hunt. The second trailer has also been released. #TRIGUN

11:01 PM · Nov 8, 2022

ダビングも鋭意進行中。この臨場感、音響効果、ミキシング、そして素晴らしい劇伴音楽。映画館の音響環境で聴いてほしいと思っていたら、なんと先行上映会が開催決定。勝俣さん的に言うと「グルーヴ感がたまらない！」って事なんだと思う。音の力、恐るべし。 #TRIGUN

Dubbing is also in progress. The sense of realism, the sound effects, the mixing, and the wonderful accompaniment music. I wanted to listen to it in the acoustic environment of a movie theater, but it was decided that an advance screening would be held. In Katsumata-san's words, I think it means "the feeling of groove is irresistible!" The power of sound is terrifying. #TRIGUN

4:35 AM · Nov 28, 2022

同じ内容を繰り返し話すことが苦手で、できるだけテーマや内容を掲載誌ごとに変えるようにしている。多角度から見つめると、作品が立体的に見えてくる。今後も順次、裏情報満載の対談記事が発表されるはず。ポスター第三弾も、そろそろ完成予定。 #TRIGUN

I'm not good at repeating the same content over and over again, so I try to vary the themes and content from magazine to magazine as much as possible. When viewed from multiple angles, the work appears three-dimensional. We are sure to continue to publish interview articles full of behind-the-scenes information in the future. The third poster will be completed soon. #TRIGUN

12:02 AM · Dec 5, 2022

不慣れなトークを辛抱強く聴いてくれた、優しいお客様に感謝。優しくも暖かい拍手に救われました。役者さんのように笑いを取りつつ、上手く会話を回せないものか。スタンピードチーム陣からは「場数ですよ」とアドバイスを貰う。場数とやらを踏むためにも、ネクストステージ頑張らねば。 #TRIGUN

Thank you to the kind customers who patiently listened to the unfamiliar talk. I was saved by the gentle and warm applause. Are you unable to carry a conversation while making people laugh like an actor? The Stampede team members advised us, ``It depends on the number of places.'' We have to work hard on the next stage in order to make it to the number of places. #TRIGUN

10:54 PM · Dec 5, 2022

最近、宣伝チームの熱量に圧倒される。現場スタッフとは違う、これまで接点のなかった役職の人々。こうゆう縁の下の力持ちがいるから作品が広まるんだなぁ。彼らと飲みに行ったりすると、その人柄にも触れる事ができる。集団戦、集団作業、集団芸術。つくづく学びの多いプロジェクトだ。 #TRIGUN

Lately, I've been overwhelmed by the enthusiasm of the advertising team. People in positions that are different from the field staff and with whom I had no previous contact. It's because of these unsung heroes that my work spreads. When you go out for drinks with them, you can get a feel for their personalities. Group warfare, group work, group art. It's a project with a lot to learn. #TRIGUN

12:30 AM · Dec 22, 2022

新宿アドストリートなどにTRIGUN STAMPEDE看板が多数あるらしい。今後も何やら宣伝チームが面白い事を計画中らしいが、なんだろう、とても楽しみ。何気ない風景の裏にも、陰ながら頑張っている人たちがいる。そうやって作品は更に広がってゆくのだ。ブラボー。 https://youtu.be/oolZJKslJcU #TRIGUN

There seem to be many TRIGUN STAMPEDE signboards on Shinjuku Ad Street and elsewhere. It seems like the advertising team is planning some interesting things in the future, but I'm really looking forward to it. Behind the scenes, there are people working hard behind the scenes. In this way, the work will continue to expand. Bravo. https://youtu.be/oolZJKslJcU #TRIGUN

[Boo, dead Youtube link ):< If anyone knows what it was, let me know and I'll insert that info here]

3:21 AM · Dec 28, 2022

いつの間に、誰かが作ってくれたTRIGUN STAMPEDE年賀状を受け取る。カメラ目線で素朴に座るスタンピード。真摯に作品と向き合っている、そんな現場スタッフの姿勢を感じる一枚。物語終盤のダビング（ファイナルミックス）に追われている、ラストスパートの2022。 #TRIGUN

Before I knew it, I received a TRIGUN STAMPEDE New Year's card that someone had made for me. Stampede simply sits looking at the camera. This photo shows the attitude of the on-site staff as they approach the work with sincerity. 2022 is the last spurt of dubbing (final mix) at the end of the story. #TRIGUN

6:37 AM · Jan 4, 2023

喫茶店で水出しコーヒーを眺めているとTRIGUN STAMPEDEを連想する。見た目は変化すれど、ちゃんと豆の成分と香りが活きている。内藤先生という豆を炒って、挽いて、一滴一滴丁寧に抽出する。とびきり今風のコーヒーカップに注いで、さあ召し上がれ。 2023年もどうぞ宜しくお願いします。 #TRIGUN

When I look at cold brew coffee at a coffee shop, I think of TRIGUN STAMPEDE. Although the appearance may change, the ingredients and aroma of the beans are still present. The beans called Naito Sensei are roasted, ground, and carefully extracted drop by drop. Pour into a super modern coffee cup and enjoy. We look forward to your continued support in 2023. #TRIGUN

9:13 AM · Jan 7, 2023

本日からTRIGUN STAMPEDE放映スタートです。第1話「NOMAN'S LAND」いろんな思いを、ガツンと込めました。どうぞ、よろしくお願いします！ #TRIGUN

TRIGUN STAMPEDE will start airing from today. Episode 1 "NOMAN'S LAND" I put all my thoughts into it. Nice to meet you! #TRIGUN

12:37 AM · Jan 9, 2023

シリーズ脚本の第一話、第二話、第三話は、ホップ・ステップ・ジャンプだと思う。まるで、週刊誌の連載ネーム。 #TRIGUN

The first, second and third episodes of the series script are I think it's hop step jump. It's like the name of a weekly magazine serial. #TRIGUN

12:49 AM · Jan 9, 2023

ただのモブからサブキャラへ異例の昇格を果たした愛すべき悪役、チャック・リー隊長。コンテ描いてると、キャラが勝手に動き出す。シナリオに無い台詞を話し始めたり、暴れたり。杉田智和さんの怪演が光る。 #TRIGUN

Captain Chuck Lee is a lovable villain who has achieved an unusual promotion from just a mob to a side character. As I draw the storyboards, the characters start moving on their own. He starts speaking lines that aren't in the scenario, or gets violent. Tomokazu Sugita's mysterious performance shines. #TRIGUN

10:56 PM · Jan 10, 2023

最初期の頃、内藤先生と飲みながら、「手触り感を大切にしたい」「実存感を大切にしたい」ひたすらそんな事を話していた。惑星の空気感と生活感を見事に再現。宝石の国の頃からのタッグ、金子雄司の美術世界。 #TRIGUN

In the early days, while drinking with Mr. Naito, “I want to value the feel of touch.” “I want to value a sense of existence.” That's what I was talking about all the time. The atmosphere and lifestyle of the planet are beautifully reproduced. A tag team from the days of Land of the Lustrous, Yuji Kaneko's art world. #TRIGUN

7:06 AM · Jan 11, 2023

生まれも育ちも第三都市ジュライ。親の七光りで憲兵隊士官学校に裏口入学。金ピカの銃は両親からの入学祝い。画面の外にも彼らの世界は広がり、本編では描かれない彼らの物語もある。チャック・リー再登場に乞うご期待。 #TRIGUN #杉田智和

Born and raised in the third city of July. With the help of his parents, he entered the military police academy through the back door. The golden gun was a gift from his parents for entering school. Their world expands beyond the screen, and there are also stories about them that are not depicted in the main story. Look forward to Chuck Lee's reappearance. #TRIGUN #杉田智和

9:12 PM · Jan 13, 2023

親子の絆に、善も悪もないんだよね。どストレート、どシンプルなテーマで挑む、第二話。ポップ（？）キュート（？）な悪役たちにも注目。本日23:00〜、よろしくお願いします！ #TRIGUN #トライガン

There is no good or bad in the bond between parent and child. The second episode takes on the challenge of a straight, simple theme. Also pay attention to the pop (?) cute (?) villains. Thank you for your support today from 23:00! #TRIGUN #トライガン

9:12 PM · Jan 14, 2023

二話の絵コンテの修正していたら、ふと声が聞こえた… 『ゴフセフ』「え？いま喋った？」『ゴフセフ…(頷き)』「そうか、ゴフセフって言いたいんだね？」『ゴフセフ。(ニッコリと)』「ゴフセフ！(ニッコリ)」キャラと対話しながらコンテを描いてゆく。 #TRIGUN #トライガン

When I was revising the storyboard for episode 2, Suddenly I heard a voice... "Gofsef" "Huh? Did you just talk?" “Gofsef…(nods)” “I see, you want to call me Gofsef, right?” “Gofsef. (smiling)” "Gofsef! (smiling)" Draw the storyboard while interacting with the characters. #TRIGUN #トライガン

12:51 AM · Jan 17, 2023

数年ぶりにオキシタケヒコさんに会った。毎回、東京まで呼びつけていた事に気づく。次は僕が大阪へ行きたい、行くべき。大阪でもSTAMPEDEイベントやりたい。大阪で食い倒れしたい。 #TRIGUN

I met Mr. Oxytakehiko for the first time in several years. Every time, I realized that he had called me all the way to Tokyo. Next I want to go to Osaka, I should go. I want to hold a STAMPEDE event in Osaka too. I want to eat all I can in Osaka. #TRIGUN

7:36 AM · Jan 17, 2023

無口で気弱な青年は、やがて過酷な環境に適応し、サイボーグとしての「力」を得る。凶悪犯の仲間入りを果たした青年の名は、ゴフセフ。語られないバックグラウンドを想像すると、世界は更に広がる。 #TRIGUN

The taciturn and timid young man eventually adapts to the harsh environment, Obtain "power" as a cyborg. The name of the young man who has joined the ranks of violent criminals is Gofsef. When you imagine the untold background, The world will expand further. #TRIGUN

8:47 PM · Jan 20, 2023

親子の絆？そんな常識をぶち壊す。血は水よりも濃い、第三話。本日、23:00-テレビ東京他にて放送。是非ご覧ください！ #TRIGUN #トライガン

Parent-child bond? Breaking down that common sense. Blood is thicker than water, episode 3. Broadcast today at 23:00 on TV Tokyo and other channels. Please take a look! #TRIGUN #トライガン

10:53 PM · Jan 23, 2023

ナイというキャラクター性は、一枚のラフスケッチが語ってくれた。渋谷で開催された「内藤泰弘の世界」展。常に優しく微笑む彼。自身に憑依させて、描きだす。 #TRIGUN

The character of Nai is A rough sketch tells the story. "The World of Yasuhiro Naito" exhibition held in Shibuya. He always smiles kindly. Let yourself be possessed and start drawing. #TRIGUN

11:19 PM · Jan 24, 2023

「人間」という種族を一括りに捉える。物事を巨視的にみる。俯瞰した視野で考え、躊躇なく行動する。コンテを描いていると、僕の中に彼が宿る。一度宿ると、抜けるまでに時間がかかるところが難点。 #TRIGUN #トライガン

The race of "humans" is lumped together. See things macroscopically. Think from a bird's-eye view and act without hesitation. When I draw storyboards, he lives inside me. The problem is that once you get into it, it takes a while to get out. #TRIGUN #トライガン

9:49 PM · Jan 26, 2023

でも、大丈夫。きっと逞しく彼も生き抜いていくのだろう。過酷な環境で、現実を受け入れ、歪な義手を手に入れ、青年に成長した彼を想像してみてほしい。もしかしたらワムズ使いになっているかも。物語世界は、作り手を離れ、更に広がってゆく。 #TRIGUN

But it's okay. I'm sure he will be strong enough to survive. Accepting reality in a harsh environment, Obtaining a distorted prosthetic arm, Imagine him growing into a young man. Maybe he's using Wams. The story world leaves the creator and expands further. #TRIGUN

[Note that this was shared around episode three and the freckles this guy has--a lot of people theorize this is about Tonis]

8:52 PM · Jan 27, 2023

数年ぶりに田島光二さんと食事。シャコやカニやエビを注文。「これは何？」『シャコワムズ！』「これは？」『カニワムズ！』「これ…」『エビワムズ！！』まるで中学生のようなノリ、同窓会のような時間。本日23:00-は4話放映ですね。 #TRIGUN

I had dinner with Koji Tajima for the first time in several years. Ordered mantis shrimp, crab, and shrimp. "what is this?" “Shakowams! ” "this is?" “Caniwams! ” "this…" “Ebiwams! ! ” Feeling like a junior high school student, A time like a class reunion. Episode 4 will be aired today from 23:00. #TRIGUN

12:17 AM · Jan 29, 2023

見覚えのあるシルエット。モーションキャプチャーには重くて使えなかったが、ポージング参考で大活躍した模造品。実際はもっと重いんだろうなぁ、と想像しながら演出する。外装はロストテクノロジィ、内部は機関銃という合成兵器。 ”パニッシュメント”とは”処罰”の意味。 #TRIGUN #トライガン

A familiar silhouette. Although it was too heavy to use for motion capture, this imitation was very useful as a pose reference. I imagine it's probably heavier in reality when I direct it. The exterior is lost technology, and the interior is a synthetic weapon called a machine gun. "Punishment" means "punishment". #TRIGUN #トライガン

#Trigun #Tristamp #Trigun Stampede #Trigun Meta #Kenji Muto #Food

64 notes · View notes

mariacallous · 5 months ago

Text

The 2024 American Electorate Voter Poll, conducted by the African American Research Collaborative (AARC) and BSP Research, has a nationally representative sample of Native American voters (n=500) that ensures Native American voters’ voices are included in the discussion of this historic election. This oversample was supported by First Nations Development Institute and is designed to be representative of the Native American electorate. This post summarizes the main findings from the poll regarding Native American voters.

Native American voters continued to be consequential across the presidential election and several other races this cycle. Both presidential candidates targeted Native American voters in crucial battleground states, including Arizona, North Carolina, Michigan, and Nevada.

Despite the continued importance of the Native American vote, Native American voters remained largely absent in preelection discussions by election experts and pundits due to nearly no credible data available about this electorate. Furthermore, the available data on Native American voters was often flawed, leading to dangerous conclusions about the Native American vote. This includes the National Exit Poll conducted by Edison Research, which suggested that 65% percent of Native Americans voted for Republican candidates based on a small and non-representative sample of Native American voters that did not include interviewing locations on any tribal lands across the country.

The national media’s heavy reliance on this questionable poll is misleading, as its depiction of support for Trump among Native Americans deviates from past patterns and has drawn significant criticism from tribal communities nationwide.

This poll provides a fresh perspective to the discussion of Native American voters in the 2024 election. The 2024 American Electorate Voter Poll addresses the challenge of inaccurate data on Native American voters by including a nationally representative sample of Native American voters within a broader national voter sample. This enables comparisons of their voting behavior with that of other racial and ethnic groups. Similar to other surveys, AARC and BSP Research have conducted surveys among Native Americans nationally, and the survey relies on a self-identified/opt-in sampling design.

However, the survey took important steps to ensure that the data was representative of Native American voters. This included screening out potential respondents whose connection to their Native American ancestry was only through a distant relative, ensuring that the study was not limited to Native Americans who live in urban areas, and incorporating respondents who have some connection to their tribe’s native language. In fact, 21% of self-identified Native American respondents in the sample reported that they live on a reservation/tribal lands and another 37% near a reservation/tribal lands. Native Americans who live on tribal lands face challenges accessing the ballot box that could impact how they view electoral politics and policies aimed at improving voting access. Similarly, 43% of respondents reported that they speak a Native American language in their home. This is another critical consideration when designing survey samples, as language plays a key role in shaping ethnic identity and community connections, and language rights are safeguarded by the Voting Rights Act.

The poll’s researchers believe strongly that pollsters should take similar steps to collect and report out important demographics for Native American respondents as this leads to more reliable and representative data. Consequently, this summary of the national Native American voting data provides a much more balanced discussion of how and why Native American voters participated in the 2024 election.

Native American voters favored Harris and Democrats over Trump and Republicans

As reflected in the figure below, 57% of Native American voters supported Vice President Harris in the presidential race in 2024, compared to 39% who supported President-elect Trump. Another 4% of respondents cast their ballot for another candidate. Results from the survey across all racial groups indicate that Native American voters were more likely to vote for Trump than Black, Asian American, or Latino voters. However, they were +17% more likely to vote for Harris than white voters.

One of the major themes of the post-election analysis has been the apparent improvement for Trump and Republicans among men of color. As reflected in the figure below, there was a significant gender difference among Native American voters in 2024, with a 13% difference between Native American men and women—63% of Native American women reported voting for Harris compared to 50% of Native American men. This indicates that Democrats should include Native American men in their post-election discussions on strategies to strengthen their support among all men of color, including Native American men. There was also a small difference in voting behavior based on age. Native American voters under the age of 40 were more likely to vote for Vice President Harris than those over the age of 40.

Incorporating demographic questions specific to tribal communities is crucial for understanding Native American voting patterns and policy discussions. There is a notable difference in voting behavior among Native Americans based on their connection to their tribe’s Native language. Among respondents who speak a Native language at home, 63% reported voting for Harris, compared to 52% of those who do not speak a Native language at home.

Native American voters were also more likely to vote for a Democrat in their congressional races across the country, with 57% indicating they voted for a Democrat compared to 38% who cast their ballot for a Republican congressional candidate. This is slightly higher than in 2022, when 56% of Native Americans reported that they voted for a Democrat compared to 40% who voted for Republican candidates, according to the AARC/BSP Research 2022 Election Eve Poll.

The policy agenda of the Native American electorate

The Election Poll included two policy questions that were asked only of Native American respondents. This included if respondents consider tribal issues when voting. Nearly eight in 10 (78%) Native American respondents said that they did consider tribal issues when they voted in the 2024 national election. Native American respondents who live on or near a reservation were 10% more likely to report that they considered tribal issues when they voted compared to those who do not live on or near a reservation—82% to 72%.

Respondents who said that they do consider tribal issues when they vote were asked to identify the issues that were most important to them when they voted. As reflected in the figure below, tribal sovereignty/right to govern and land rights are the most salient tribal issues that influenced Native Americans voting behavior in 2024 at 58% and 59% respectively. These were followed by preserving culture and language, highlighted by 49% of respondents. Economic development ranked next at 40%, with the preservation of Native American history identified by 31%. Environmental concerns rounded out the top priorities at 30%.

The poll also included several items on climate change and energy policy. Native Americans are supportive of expanding the nation’s investment in clean energy, as well as protecting families against the negative impacts of climate change:

Eighty-nine percent support providing more resources to protect families against the impacts of climate change and to prepare for and recover from future hurricanes, wildfires, extreme heat, and other climate disasters.

Eighty-eight percent support expanding clean energy investments to create more manufacturing jobs in the U.S.

Eighty-seven percent support expanding clean energy investments to lower electricity bills and energy costs.

Respondents were also asked to identify the most important issues that they want Congress and the president to address. The state of the economy, including jobs and inflation, were top concerns for Native American voters, which was similar to the electorate overall, and Native Americans support policy reforms that will address these concerns. One of the leading federal policy priorities for Native American voters was the cost of living and inflation, with 55% selecting it as one of their top three concerns for Congress and the president to address. Additionally, 88% of Native Americans expressed strong support for “a law or regulation that bans price gouging and prevents corporations from artificially raising prices.”

Jobs and the broader economy ranked as the second most frequently identified policy priority among Native Americans, cited by 31%. Housing costs and affordability followed closely at 29%. Additionally, 76% of Native Americans in the poll expressed support for a proposal to build three million new homes and provide $25,000 in down payment assistance to improve access to affordable housing.

The fourth priority among Native American voters was abortion/reproductive rights, an issue that was also a top priority for this subgroup in 2022 (24%). This issue was especially significant for Native American women, with 30% naming it a top policy priority compared to 17% of Native American men. Just under 80% of Native Americans in the poll support “a federal law to guarantee access to abortion and give women control over their own private medical decisions.” Rounding out the top five priorities, 20% of respondents highlighted the cost of health care as a key concern. On this issue, 94% of Native Americans support “allowing Medicare to negotiate lower prices on prescription drugs” to help address the rising costs of health care.

Mobilization and outreach to Native Americans in 2024

Native Americans continue to encounter significant obstacles when exercising their right to vote. According to a recent Brennan Center report, many Native Americans live far from the nearest polling location and often lack a physical address, a requirement in some states to cast a ballot. These barriers have contributed to lower voter turnout among Native Americans in recent elections. However, the poll reveals strong support for election reform to address these issues, with 87% of Native Americans favoring the passage of a new Voting Rights Act to eliminate barriers and ensure all eligible citizens can vote.

Both the Democratic and Republican candidates in the 2024 U.S. presidential election made symbolic efforts to engage Native American voters. The Harris-Waltz campaign invested heavily in outreach, launching a $370 million ad campaign between Labor Day and Election Day that focused on key Native issues such as treaty rights and tribal sovereignty. Beyond media efforts, the campaign prioritized direct engagement, including meetings with tribal leaders and rallies held in Arizona’s Gila River Indian Community. This outreach was bolstered by President Biden’s federal apology for the U.S. government’s historical role in Native American boarding schools, delivered in the battleground state of Arizona.

In contrast, the Trump-Vance campaign concentrated on key swing states but placed less focus on direct outreach to Native American communities. The campaign received support from U.S. Senator Markwayne Mullin, a member of the Cherokee Nation, who emphasized Trump’s commitment to granting federal recognition to the Lumbee Tribe—a longstanding issue for the tribe. This promise resonated with some Native American voters, particularly in the battleground state of North Carolina.

Despite these outreach efforts, when asked if anyone from a political party, campaign, or any other organization contacted them to ask them to register and/or vote in this election, 50% of Native American voters indicated that they had not been contacted by anyone in 2024. These survey results reveal that both parties can improve their outreach to tribal communities to improve contact rates for Native Americans.

However, among those who were contacted, Native Americans were more likely to be contacted by Democrats rather than Republicans (31% to 21%). Another 10% of Native Americans reported that they were contacted by someone from a nonpartisan, civic, or other organization, and 9% reported being contacted by someone representing a ballot initiative or referendum.

Conclusions

The 2024 Election Eve Poll reveals that a significant majority of Native Americans continue to lean Democratic in their voting preferences. However, both major political parties have opportunities to strengthen their appeal to this critical subgroup of the national electorate, which can significantly influence election outcomes both nationally and in key states. While Native Americans share many of the same voting motivations as the broader electorate—such as concerns about inflation, jobs, health care costs, abortion, and reproductive rights—they also represent a unique and multifaceted electorate with distinct tribal-specific priorities.

The poll reveals that many Native American voters across the country prioritize issues specific to tribal communities when casting their ballots. Key concerns include tribal sovereignty, land rights, and the preservation of Native American culture, language, and history—issues that received inadequate attention from political campaigns during this election cycle. This survey sheds light on the nuanced policy attitudes and voting behaviors of the Native American electorate, a group often mischaracterized in mainstream polling. Although the poll relies on self-identified Native Americans, it incorporates measures to ensure respondents have meaningful connections to their Native ancestry, offering a more accurate depiction of Native American voter participation in the 2024 election. First Nations, AARC, and BSP Research recommend that pollsters adopt similar measures to those used in this poll and collaborate with tribal communities to enhance the relevance and accuracy of their research.

12 notes · View notes