#stephen paddock

[tendie-defender]

It’s odd how casinos use firearms detection technology such as this on their floors and their resorts. But still somehow didn’t detect the +400lbs of firearms and munitions 64 year old Stephen Paddock had with him that he walked up to the 32nd floor.

[dontmean2bepoliticalbut]

[esotericimagesforredpilledpeople]

[garthnadermemestash]

The only Jason aldean song I know was a bunch of gunshots. I didn’t care for it.

[solaireverie]

dr3 | deep blue but you painted me golden

part one — i polish up real nice

[ series masterlist ] part 2 | part 3 | part 4

pairings: daniel ricciardo x f!leclerc!rbr driver!reader, lestappen

summary: [ social media au ] y/n joins red bull and stirs shit up! ft. lestappen's oblivious flirting and danny's impeccable pr training

warnings: language

faceclaim: barbara palvin + random faceless checo pics

author’s note: i first came up with the last post of this series (stay tuned!) and it kind of snowballed into whatever this is 😂 i played fast and loose with the timeline. suspend your disbelief. anyways, enjoy!

Daniel Ricciardo Talks About Red Bull and What Comes Next — The Late Show with Stephen Colbert

liked by charles_leclerc, redbullracing, pierregasly and 459,157 others

yourusername looking forward to racing with an undying commitment to winning 👊 thank you so much @.redbullracing for the opportunity to join the fastest team in the paddock

view comments

charles_leclerc super fier de toi 💙 mais ferrari est toujours la meilleure [ super proud of you but ferrari is still the best ]

↪ yourusername si ça te chante 🙄 🥰 [ whatever floats your boat ]

user not the caption 😭😭

↪ user she definitely saw the interview 😭😭

↪ user christian did say that rbr thought it was "right" to bring daniel back to the team 👀 which team and in which capacity though... 🤔

↪ user praying y/n isn't the next victim of the red bull second seat curse 🔮🧘🙏🕯

user y/n didn't hesitate at ALL with the speed comment huh 💀

↪ user i mean she's not wrong, red bull are currently the fastest and if they keep their momentum they'll completely dominate this season

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername, danielricciardo and 519,238 others

tagged: maxverstappen1, yourusername

redbullracing Pre-Season Testing sees us go fastest as Max and Y/n record fantastic numbers 💪

user holy shit we all know that y/n is a rookie but can we just appreciate her pace during testing??? that's insane for anyone, let alone a driver who's still getting used to the car

↪ user i've been saying it for months y/n could 100% be the next big thing for f1

↪ user can't wait to watch an actual race 🤩

liked by yourusername

user hear me out, rbr 1-2 in bahrain 👀

↪ redbullracing what dreams are made of! 🙌

user y/n proving all the haters wrong we love to see it!

liked by yourusername

↪ user danny would still do better though 😤

↪ user well he's not the one in the cockpit so wouldn't it make more sense to just support y/n as well?

liked by redbullracing, charles_leclerc, danielricciardo and 1,258,976 others

yourusername never in my wildest dreams did i think this day would come. getting my first podium in my first formula 1 race is absolutely insane to think about. i don't have words to describe the joy i feel.

thank you to @.redbullracing for giving me this chance, thank you to the fans for cheering me on, and most importantly, thank you to my family for supporting me in chasing my dreams ❤️

i promise i'll keep making you proud. p2, baby!

view comments

charles_leclerc that's my baby sister 😍

↪ yourusername we were born a year and a half apart.

↪ charles_leclerc yeah well max and i are only 16 days apart and he still calls me a baby

↪ yourusername i— you know what, you're hopeless 💀

liked by maxverstappen1, pierregasly, arthur_leclerc

maxverstappen1 congratulations y/n 😁

liked by charles_leclerc

↪ yourusername thank you max!

danielricciardo 👏👏👏

liked by yourusername

likes and reblogs are appreciated!

masterlist

[nothorses]

About that "a trans man committing a mass shooting proves trans people really are the gender they identify as" post: women have committed mass shootings too? Okay it's a lot less statistically frequent, but it happens (as the song "I Don't Like Mondays" demonstrates). It reminds me of the time TERFs on Reddit assumed the woman who shot up the YouTube HQ in 2018 was trans, and then when she turned out to be cis, someone immediately speculated she was getting justified revenge on an abusive BF who worked there (though that comment got downvoted and may have been a troll)

I took this opportunity to look more into statistics around mass shooter demographics, and interestingly, there are a lot of myths tied up in this issue.

This article looks into a few studies and databases to investigate the "90% of all mass shooters are white men" myth, and finds that in actuality, "It really depends on what type of mass shooting you’re talking about. Several of the highest-profile mass shootings in recent memory [...] were committed by white males, such as the 2017 Las Vegas attack by Stephen Paddock. But much beyond that, the stereotype breaks down; Muslim man Omar Mateen killed forty-nine people at a Florida nightclub in 2016 on behalf of a terrorism group; white male Adam Lanza killed twenty-seven people in 2012 at an elementary school, though Asian student Seung-Hui Cho killed thirty-two people on the Virginia Tech campus in 2007. And so on."

This article fact-checks the gender-specific claims as well, in the context of trans people, and finds that there have been more claims that shooters are trans than can be reasonably substantiated, and that even this number is overshadowed by the number of cis women who have committed mass shootings.

I bring this up because I think the first article in particular brings a lot of much-needed nuance into the issue:

"The whites-are-overrepresented-among-mass-shooters meme does serve a useful purpose in that it helps displace another myth about mass shootings: that they’re most often perpetrated by angry immigrants from travel-banned countries, and that nothing is more dangerous to America that the scourge of Islamic terrorism. … These are worthy ends, but we shouldn’t have to build another myth to reach them.”

What are we saying when we talk about these kinds of incidents this way?

What I find interesting is that in a lot of these conversations around crime, we recognize that crime is often the result of poverty. Indeed, this study finds that the number of mass shootings increases in countries that experience an increase of income inequality.

We can also often recognize that these numbers are skewed because they rely on media coverage, arrests, and criminal charges; all of which are influenced by societal bias. The first article on mass shootings notes that, "mass shootings with white victims tend to get more attention, both from journalists and those on social media, than those with victims who are people of color. This is a well-known pattern and explains why the public is quicker to react to a missing young blonde girl than a missing young black girl."

Are white mass shooters covered more because their targets- being overwhelmingly people and institutions they have ties to- are also usually white?

If "white men are overrepresented as mass shooters" means white men are particularly dangerous and must be feared, what does this imply about other demographics overrepresented in certain crime statistics? What does it mean when we find this isn't true- is there suddenly just is not an issue of white cis male violence? I would certainly disagree.

And I think this gleeful claim that "trans men are proving their gender" by committing acts of violence- again, far more rare than cis women doing the same- only plays into these issues.

Is crime the result of entitlement and privileged anger, or is it the result of a broken system failing its citizens? Are cis men committing acts of extreme violence because they are all- regardless of race- whiny pissbabies who take joy in hurting others, or is this the result of a system that teaches men they can only express emotion through anger and violence? That human connection is not for them, and that needing things makes them unworthy of manhood, love, or even life?

I'm not saying we need to coddle and woobify mass shooters. I'm asking: is this an issue we fix by fearing and hating and wishing death on whole demographics of people based on how represented they are in criminal statistics, or can we make systemic and cultural changes that meaningfully prevent this from happening in the first place?

Do we condemn groups as Bad because some of them have done violence, or do we examine the causes and work toward meaningful solutions?

Obviously, trans men and trans people in general are not in any way "overrepresented" as perpetrators in mass shooting statistics. But I think the people reveling in any new trans male shooter are making it very clear that they don't care about solving problems; they're just interested in looking for reasons to hate, fear, and condemn this specific group of people they already dislike.

[reality-detective]

* * * Las Vegas Shooting * * *

Part 3

On the Thursday night that followed, the White House press pool was unexpectedly called in to witness a “photo op” that was taking place with President Trump…and included various military officials & their spouses.

As cameras were rolling, President Trump said, “Maybe it’s the calm before the storm. Could be, the calm…the calm before the storm.”

As reporters shouted questions, he said,

“We have the world’s great military people in this room, I will tell you that. And uh, we’re gonna have a great evening.”

Then, when asked what he meant by “storm,” he ominously answered,

“You’ll find out.”

MEGANON, the anonymous 4chan poster that I referenced the other day posted this on 4Chan after Trump made his “Calm Before the Storm” warning...

Then 👇

It is interesting to point out that the very next day after Trump made his cryptic remark, a fire broke out at the Federal Reserve Bank Building.

Here is an excerpt from a 10/7/17 Zero Hedge article titled “Fire Breaks Out on the Roof of the NY Fed.”

“Dozens of firefighters are fighting a blaze which broke out on the top of the Federal Reserve Bank of New York, NBC New York reports.

Contrary to recurring rumors that the fire was created from excess money creation, the FDNY said that a generator on the roof of the building caused the fire in a chimney, although the severity of the damage to the building is not known.”

☝️ Was it possible that Trump’s warning “You’ll find out” was taken seriously enough…that it lead to an emergency bonfire of incriminating documents right on the roof of the Federal bank building?

Guess what happened after that???

On October 26th, 2017

The JFK FILES WERE RELEASED by PRESIDENT DONALD TRUMP!!!

Funny that he releases the files on October 26th!! That’s the birthdate of Hillary Rodham Clinton!!

Reversing the curse!!

By the way, October 28th is a date with a lot of significance.

By choosing this date,

God/Trump/The Alliance/White Hats are reversing the curses that were placed on our society by ((these)) people.

((THESE)) people are the Occult/Witches/Warlocks/Satanists/Luciferians/Illuminati/Jesuits/Crypto Jews/Khazarian Mafia/Banksters/Deep State/Cabal/Black Hats/Rothschilds/Rockefellers/Clintons/Bushes etc. etc.etc!!

Löök up famous people born on October 28th you'll get a better picture of what I'm saying. 🤔

FUN FACT: Remember, Q started posting on October 28, 2017.

Facebook was originally launched as FaceMash on... you guessed it... October 28, 2003, (before changing its name to Facebook on February 4, 2004).

THERE ARE NO COINCIDENCES!!!

The PHILADELPHIA EXPERIMENT began during the summer of 1943.

On OCTOBER 28th, 1943,

The Navy Destroyer—USS Eldridge—was placed in an electromagnetic field and disappeared…not only from the screens…but also from our reality.

During this second experiment, the ship disappeared from the Philadelphia Naval Shipyard.

Simultaneously, sailors stationed 375 miles south at the Norfolk Naval Base in Norfolk, Virginia, reported the ship’s appearance for several minutes before it vanished.

Many believe that the USS Eldridge traveled through time.

Time traveling is a real thing and so is "Project Lööking Glass"

I hope this sheds some light on the Las Vegas Shooting Event, it was no random solo shooter acting out. It was all a staged event.

All links connected 👇

[xtruss]

Opinion: Town Sums up the Delusions of the Right Wing

The embrace of the country star’s anti-city ‘modern lynching song’ by Republicans encapsulates their nostalgia and paranoia

— Arwa Mahdawi | July 20; 2023

‘Small towns are full of “good ol’ boys” who were “raised up right”. Cities, meanwhile, are hotbeds of violence … and diversity.’ Photograph: Wade Payne/Invision/AP

Jason Aldean is a country music star and a big fan of law and order. He loves the law so much, in fact, that he’s willing to take it into his own hands.

If you come to his (imaginary) small town and disrespect a cop or engage in any sort of protest, you will regret it.

Such is the theme of Aldean’s new song, Try That in a Small Town, which is all about how the singer and his pals will aggressively deal with unseemly behaviour on their turf. A sample extract: “Cuss out a cop, spit in his face … Well, try that in a small town / See how far ya make it down the road. / Around here, we take care of our own …”

A little later in the song Aldean elaborates further on what might happen if lines are crossed. “Got a gun that my grandad gave me / They say one day they’re gonna round up. / Well, that shit might fly in the city, good luck.” He is, it would appear, referencing a conspiracy theory that the government is going to confiscate Americans’ guns to impose martial law.

Try That in a Small Town was released in May but when the music video came out last Friday it generated immediate controversy. The video leaves little doubt as to what Aldean is trying to communicate: it intersperses footage of him singing in front of Maury county courthouse in Tennessee – the site of the lynching of a Black man, Henry Choate, in 1927 – with footage from protests, looting and civil unrest. Small towns are wholesome, the message is. Full of “good ol’ boys” who were “raised up right”. Cities, meanwhile, are hotbeds of violence … and diversity.

That last bit isn’t spelled out – it’s not like Aldean yells “I’m a massive racist!” in the middle of the track – but the dog whistles are difficult to ignore. The song has been called “a modern lynching song” by detractors and the video was pulled from Country Music Television (CMT) on Monday. (While CMT has confirmed the video was taken off rotation, it hasn’t put out a statement as to why.) Fellow country star Sheryl Crow has also voiced her disapproval. “There’s nothing small-town or American about promoting violence,” Crow tweeted on Tuesday. She further noted that Aldean should know better, “having survived a mass shooting”. Crow was referencing the shooting at Las Vegas’s Route 91 Harvest festival in 2017: the deadliest mass shooting by a lone shooter in modern US history. Aldean was performing and got out unscathed. He was lucky. Sixty people were killed and 867 injured. Those people weren’t killed and injured by a Black Lives Matter protester. They were killed by Stephen Paddock, an angry white man from Iowa.

Try That in a Small Town has generated a lot of criticism, but it also has fervent supporters. Including, of course, GOP lawmakers. “I am shocked by what I’m seeing in this country with people attempting to cancel this song and cancel Jason and his beliefs,” the South Dakota Republican governor, Kristi Noem, posted in a video on Twitter on Wednesday. The Tennessee house GOP leader, William Lamberth, similarly tweeted: “Loved this song since it was released and will continue to fight every day to spread small town values … Give it a listen. The woke mob will hate you for liking this song.” Sarah Huckabee Sanders, the governor of Arkansas, also didn’t miss the chance to stoke a little culture war. “The Left is now more concerned about Jason Aldean’s song calling out looters and criminals than they are about stopping looters and criminals,” she tweeted.

Aldean, for his part, is furious at insinuations there is anything racist in his song about shooting outsiders who come to his little country town.

“In the past 24 hours I have been accused of releasing a pro-lynching song,” Aldean tweeted on Wednesday, “and was subject to the comparison that I (direct quote) was not too pleased with the nationwide BLM protests. These references are not only meritless, but dangerous. There is not a single lyric in the song that references race or points to it – and there isn’t a single video clip that isn’t real news footage.”

If Aldean isn’t trying to make a point about the Black Lives Matter protests, what is Try That in a Small Town about then? Community, apparently. “When u grow up in a small town, it’s that unspoken rule of ‘we all have each other’s backs and we look out for each other,’” Aldean wrote on Instagram when he launched the video. “It feels like somewhere along the way, that sense of community and respect has gotten lost.”

Jason Aldean, from the ‘small town’ of Macon, Georgia. Photograph: Amy Harris/Invision/AP

Perhaps you’re wondering which quaint small town Aldean grew up in. The answer is: he didn’t. Aldean is from Macon, Georgia – a city with a population of about 153,000 people. Now he lives in Nashville, a city with a population of approximately 700,000. The small town he’s singing about is a product of his imagination.

But that’s conservatives for you. Last month Nikki Haley tweeted about how much better the US used to be back in the days before marginalized people had rights. “Do you remember when you were growing up, do you remember how simple life was, how easy it felt? It was about faith, family, and country,” she tweeted.

Was the past really that easy for the former South Carolina governor? By her own admission things have got a hell of a lot better for people who, like her, aren’t 100% white. “Years ago I was disqualified from a pageant because they didn’t know whether to put me in the white category or the black,” she wrote on Facebook in 2012. “I was neither. Tonight I watched my daughter get first place in her school pageant. God has an amazing way of bringing things full circle.” God also has an amazing away of depriving people like Haley of self-awareness.

Aldean’s song doesn’t just epitomize manufactured rightwing nostalgia, it also encapsulates rightwing paranoia. People on the right are obsessed with the idea that big cities are violent hotbeds of crime where you risk your life every time you nip out for a pint of milk. In reality, however, big cities tend to be safer than small towns. A 2013 study by the University of Pennsylvania, for example, found the risk of death from an injury was more than 20% higher in rural small towns than in larger cities. “Cars, guns and drugs are the unholy trinity causing the majority of injury deaths in the US” one of the researchers told NBC News at the time.

The pandemic, to be fair, saw a rise in violent crimes in cities. But even still, you’ve got a better chance of living a long, healthy life in a city. A 2021 US Centers for Disease Control and Prevention report on mortality data from 1999 to 2019 found people living in rural areas die at higher rates than those living in urban areas. That’s because they have less access to healthcare and are more likely to live in poverty.

So what’s next for Aldean? Well, I’ve got some good news for all the Republican lawmakers screeching about how unfair it is that Aldean has been cancelled by the woke mob: he’s going to be fine. Indeed, he’s going to be more than fine. Country music (and America) has a way of opening its arms to people accused of racism and making them feel right at home. Just look at Morgan Wallen, for example. In February 2021 TMZ published a video of the musician drunkenly yelling the N-word during a conversation with a friend. He was shunned from polite society for a few months but made a rapid comeback. He won album of the year at the Academy of Country Music Awards in 2022. His song Last Night is currently in its 14th week at number one on the Billboard Hot 100. If it sticks there a little longer he’ll beat the 19-week record currently held by Lil Nas X’s Old Town Road, featuring Billy Ray Cyrus.

While people on the right may be railing about Aldean being “cancelled”, the sad truth is that this will probably help his career. He’ll go on Fox News and yell about wokeness. He’ll wallow in his imagined victimhood. His song will probably be played in rallies for the next Republican nominee for president. Aldean hasn’t been cancelled or silenced – his message has been amplified.

[papasmoke]

A hotel window is opened. A crowd of concert attendees are shot. Stephen Paddock's use of deadly force is scrutinized.

[tendie-defender]

This is some bullshit motive they just threw together.

[haggishlyhagging]

The link in this chapter between misogyny and public acts of slaughter is astonishing. Two of the men, Adam Lanza and Kevin Neal, murdered close female relatives before embarking on massacres. Another, Devin Kelley, was hoping to kill his mother-in-law when he started firing in a church in Texas. Nikolas Cruz subjected his adoptive mother to a decade of abuse and stalked an ex-girlfriend before he is alleged to have carried out a school shooting. Two other stalkers - Jarrod Ramos and Seung-Hui Cho - used modern technology to harass women they knew from school and college. Elliot Rodger, a pathologically insecure and self-obsessed misogynist, has become a hero for some angry young men who don't have instant access to sex whenever they want it.

At least two of the killers in this chapter had sadomasochistic fantasies about women. Stephen Paddock was wealthy enough to pay vulnerable women to allow him to act them out, avoiding unwanted attention from the law. Robert Dear Jnr looked for ‘discreet’ partners - presumably he meant women who wouldn't report him for beating them up - on dating sites and was arrested on suspicion of rape, although the case was dropped. Dear's history is remarkable both for the number of women he abused and as an example of the dire consequences of failing to prosecute men for domestic and sexual violence.

The same failure comes up time and time again, suggesting that police and prosecutors lack the will or the competence to get convictions - and don't understand that violence in the home may be an early warning sign of violent intentions towards strangers. It is bad enough that this happens in countries like the UK where many women feel they can't rely on the police to protect them against angry and unstable family members, let alone sexual predators. But it is nothing short of catastrophic in the US, where convictions for rape and some - though by no means all - forms of domestic violence are among the few obstacles to the easy purchase of semi-automatic weapons. There are significant gaps in the legislation: federal law designed to prevent domestic abusers buying firearms applies only to men who beat up wives or women with whom they have a child. Some of the most common types of abuse - stalking, for example, or violence against a mother - aren't covered by federal law, leaving it to individual states to prevent access to guns by convicted stalkers.

Even when a man has a relevant conviction, the information isn't always recorded or shared in the proper manner, a point demonstrated by the failure of the USAF to inform the federal authorities about Devin Kelley's convictions for brutal assaults on his first wife and stepson. The fact remains that, had Kelley's history been shared with the federal database, he wouldn't have been allowed to purchase the weapons he used in the Sutherland Springs shooting - and twenty-six people, including the fourteen-year-old daughter of the church pastor, might still be alive today. Likewise, had Dear been convicted of rape or beating up his ex-wives, he wouldn't have been able to amass the arsenal of firearms he used in the Colorado Springs attack, potentially saving the lives of the three strangers he murdered.

-Joan Smith, Home Grown: How Domestic Violence Turns Men Into Terrorists

[totowlff]

chapter seventeen — under the spotlight

➝ elisabeth gets an opportunity to impress toto, and takes it as a chance to face her fears.

➝ word count: 5,8k

➝ warnings: mentions of bullying and anxiety attacks

MAY, 2015

Sitting inside the black taxi, she watched the Mediterranean washed over the coast of Monaco through the window. Her right leg, crossed over the other, swayed incessantly. Her fingers tapped the leather of her bag.

She was anxious.

— Elisabeth? — Emilia asked, putting her hand on her leg — Is everything okay?

She looked to the side and saw the blonde woman staring at her with a worried expression on her face. She forced a smile to her lips, trying to look calm.

— Yes, Emilia, why do you ask?

She raised an eyebrow.

— Because you don’t look okay.

Elisabeth sighed, pressing her lips together. Emilia could read her like no one else.

She had met her in January 2013, during Toto’s birthday dinner at his apartment in Vienna. The woman was with her boyfriend, Valtteri, a Finnish driver who would make his Formula 1 debut that season. After what had happened there a few weeks earlier, during the New Year’s party, Elisabeth really didn’t feel comfortable, even more so with Toto’s gaze hovering over her at every moment, as if he was analyzing her.

“I need some air”, she thought, sneaking between the conversation groups onto the rooftop terrace. The space was large and had an enviable view of the entire city of Vienna. Leaning against the ledge, Elisabeth was looking at the colorful roof of St. Stephen’s Cathedral when she heard the door open behind her. She took a deep breath, trying to think of an excuse for being outside in the middle of the Viennese winter in nothing more than a party dress. She was surprised, however, when she heard a woman’s voice behind her.

— You don’t like parties? — the woman asked, standing beside her with her glass of red wine in her hand.

— No, not really — Elisabeth smiled shyly, taking a sip of her drink.

— Neither I, but I don’t have much choice — she laughed, leaning against the railing — Valtteri is very fond of Toto.

— I am, too — she muttered, without thinking.

— I noticed — the blonde replied, causing her to turn her head, eyes wide.

— Is it that obvious? — Elisabeth whispered. She was surprised at how nervous she sounded.

— Yes — she gave an apologetic smile.

— Damn — she laughed. Discretion was not her strong suit.

— Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me — the woman said, placing a hand on her shoulder.

— Thank you — she hesitated, realizing she couldn’t remember her name.

— Emilia — she smiled.

“I can’t hide anything from her”, Elisabeth thought, looking down to her swaying leg.

— Is it okay to back out now?

— Elisabeth, don’t even think about it — she replied, firmly.

— But, Emilia, I’m not a model…

— Neither am I. But here we are, on our way to the Amber Lounge Fashion Show.

— But…

— No buts, Elisabeth.

— What if Toto doesn’t like it?

Emilia looked at her, placing her hand on top of hers.

— He’ll like it, trust me — she said, winking at her.

She knew about the Amber Lounge Fashion Show from the gossip she’d heard around the paddock. Most of it consisted of the relationship status of the women attending the event, how clumsy the drivers were on the catwalk, and the torrid romances that started at the afterparty. However, Elisabeth would have never imagined herself actually participating, especially considering whose daughter she was.

And she wasn't referring to Niki in this case.

Marlene, before marrying her father and becoming the mother of his three children, was a famous model both in the United States and Europe. She was tall, with light-brown hair and greenish eyes. She posed for dozens of magazine covers and was considered a true fashion icon of the 70s and 80s. When Elisabeth was born, it was a real event for the Austrian’s celebrity magazines.

A Lauda daughter — finally, her mother had a successor.

Or… Not.

In her childhood, Elisabeth liked to be in front of the lens, enjoying being in photos with her brothers, especially with her father. However, it was when she came back to Austria, after five years in Italy, that she started to avoid the cameras.

All because of a classmate.

After leaving the post of consultant at Ferrari, the Lauda family returned to Vienna. However, despite Elisabeth's desire to return to study at the Lycée Français, Niki and Marlene chose to place her and her siblings at the Vienna International School — also known as VIS — a private school on the banks of the Danube.

The first few months were relatively uneventful for Elisabeth. However, her peace was completely ruined when one of her classmates, a French girl named Isabelle, brought a magazine into the classroom, opening it in a very specific page.

She didn’t remember the headline specifically, but it was something about her and Marlene shopping for something. She had just come out of class and was eating an ice cream her mother had bought her. However, the difference between the two of them caught the attention of her classmates. 

While her mother was impeccably dressed, Elisabeth was as disheveled as any other preteen would be after a full day at school. She was also in the midst of puberty, and her curves were starting to come in. In the article, the journalist highlighted the physical difference between her and her mother and even insisted that the “once lovely Lauda girl” was “an ugly duckling”.

Elisabeth felt deeply uncomfortable and exposed as she looked at the pictures. However, the worst was yet to come. Because of the photos, her classmates started to tease her, making terrible jokes at her expense and calling her by unpleasant nicknames. Almost overnight, Elisabeth’s life at VIS had become hell. And she knew there was no point in saying anything to her parents, let alone her siblings.

In the face of all those attacks, Elisabeth was completely alone.

In a way to defend herself, she started hiding, avoiding photos, and stopping wearing clothes that showed off her form or made her stand out more than she already did — being the daughter of a famous model and a three-time Formula 1 champion and Austrian national hero. Her parents even questioned why she wore coats and hoodies even on hot days, but Elisabeth always made up an excuse, saying that the school building was cold or that everyone brought coats. The argument never got too long, as they knew they wouldn't be able to convince her to leave her coat at home. So they just nodded and wished her a good day at school.

Her effort to become invisible and, in a certain way, immune to the words of her classmates paid off. By the time she entered the University of Vienna to study Business Administration, Elisabeth was practically anonymous, acting like just another student.

However, in a great irony of fate, it was at the university that Elisabeth was transformed, like the ugly duckling in the fairy tales she had heard as a child. Despite being shy and somewhat withdrawn, she made some friends, went to some parties and even had a boyfriend, a guy from Salzburg named Ferdinand. 

Her style of dressing has also evolved. Sneakers gave way to high heels, pants and baggy shirts were replaced by elegant, form-fitting dresses. It was after leaving university that Elisabeth Lauda, the accomplished businesswoman and Niki Lauda’s right hand, was officially born.

However, she couldn’t deny that deep inside, she still felt like the pre-teen girl who had been called an “ugly duckling” in the press. And that pre-teen girl inside her panicked when Emília invited her to participate in the fashion show while they were at a dinner in Barcelona.

— No, no way — she replied flatly, shaking her head.

— Come on, Elisabeth, it’s going to be fun!

— Emilia, you know I don’t like that kind of thing. Besides, I don’t even know how to walk a catwalk.

— Neither do I, and I’ve already said I’d participate.

Elisabeth widened her eyes. “She must be crazy”, she thought, taking a sip of wine.

— Besides, I heard Toto was invited too — she said, suggestively.

She raised an eyebrow.

— How do you know?

— Both he and Valtteri were invited.

— And you’re going for Valtteri, I suppose.

— Of course. And you should go for Toto.

— Why?

— To surprise him, just like I’m surprising Valtteri — Emilia smiled.

Elisabeth snapped out of her reverie when the car pulled up to the front door of Le Méridien Beach Plaza, a peach-hued building complex with glass and metal accents. Looking at the double doors of the hotel reception, she took a deep, hesitant breath.

— Ready, Elisabeth? — her friend asked. As she looked at her, she noticed that Emilia had an encouraging smile on her face. “Well, too late to run now”, Elisabeth thought, smiling a little.

— Let’s go.

They got out of the taxi and headed for the revolving door that gave access to the hotel lobby. The surroundings were richly decorated in earthy tones. At the center of the room, an enormous wooden sculpture of a clenched fist caught her attention. However, Elisabeth barely had time to take it in before she and Emilia were approached by a woman in a dark suit and a clipboard in her hand.

— Miss Pikkarainen? Miss Lauda? — she asked, smiling politely.

— Yes — Emilia replied, adjusting her purse strap on her shoulder.

— If you could be so kind as to come with me? — the woman indicated the way with a gesture of her hand before heading down a corridor towards the outside area. Walking behind her, Elisabeth felt the anxiety build in her stomach. What if she tripped? What if she stepped on the dress? Or rather, what dress would she wear? Long or short? White or colored?

Her head was overflowing with questions.

As they entered the room that guarded the backstage of the event, she felt her stomach drop. The place was a mess of stylists, makeup artists, hairdressers, and models, all crammed into the stifling, humid space next to the resort’s main pool, where the catwalk was set up.

— I’ll call the stylists responsible for dressing you and they will take you through the next steps. Please wait here — the woman said, disappearing into the crowd of frantic assistants with clothes on hangers and women with curlers in their hair. When she saw a man walk by with a bathing suit in his hands, Elisabeth can’t couldn’t help but shudder.

— Are we going to walk the runway in bathing suits?

— No, I don’t think so — Emilia replied — And even if we were, I’m sure you’d rock it.

— I’m not sure about that — you muttered.

— Elisabeth, we already went to the beach together. Your body is beautiful, everyone would drool over it.

She bit the inside of her cheek, a little uncertain. “Would people really think I’m beautiful?”, she thought, looking at her shoes.

— And here they are — said the woman who led them into the room. Looking up, Elisabeth saw that she was accompanied by a man and a woman — Ladies, this is Melissa Odabash and Julien Macdonald, the designers for the clothes you will be wearing tonight.

The two approached them and greeted both she and Emilia with warm hugs.

— From what I can see here, Julien stays with Miss Pikkarainen while Melissa stays with Miss Lauda — the woman said, looking at the spreadsheet in front of her, drawing two lines on the paper stuck to the clipboard.

— Great, Erica, thank you very much — Melissa replied, taking Elisabeth’s hand — Shall we go to work?

She gave a shy smile.

— Yes.

The stylist guided her through the hustle of the backstage area, stopping a few times to check on other models. “They’re all beautiful”, she thought, gripping the strap of her purse tighter. Then, Melissa stopped in front of a white vanity table filled with foundations, pressed powders, eyeshadows and lipsticks. A woman with short brown hair was leaning against it, completely immersed in whatever was on her cellphone.

— Ally? —  Melissa said, catching her attention.

— Yes, Melissa — she straightened her posture, tucking her phone into the pocket of her jeans.

— This is…

— Elisabeth Lauda — she added, looking at the stylist.

— She’s going to be in the show wearing a piece from my summer collection. You know the look we’re going for, right?

— Yes! A very neutral, simple, beach day look — Ally replied, looking at her face curiously, like an artist looking at a blank canvas — Are you wearing makeup now?

— Me? Well, I put on some mascara, lip gloss, that sort of thing.

She smiled.

— Fine, I’ll take it from here.

Melissa looked at Elisabeth, placing a hand on her shoulder.

— I’ll be back in a little while with your clothes, okay?

She nodded, her lips curving into a shy smile. The stylist left her with Ally, disappearing into the fray. Watching the movement, Elisabeth couldn’t help but feel a little terrified by it all. “How can they find anything in this mess?”, she thought, watching a man push a rack full of bikinis to a corner of the room.

— Miss Lauda — Ally asked you, smiling — Could you sit down?

She nodded, sitting in the chair in front of the vanity, placing her bag on her lap. Then, the makeup artist turned to her with a tissue in her hand and began to swipe it on her face, cleaning it. Looking at her, Elisabeth noticed that the concentrated gaze gave way to an expression of surprise.

— When you said you only had mascara and lip gloss, I thought you were joking — she said, looking down at the tissue.

— Why?

— Because your skin was perfect, just right, in fact. I was sure you had a high-coverage foundation, a light highlighter in the right spots, maybe some blush, but no. You really have the skin of any makeup artist’s dreams — Ally smiled.

Her cheeks heated at Ally’s words. Elisabeth was definitely not used to receiving compliments like that. Of course, Toto made a point of showering her with compliments, not a day going by without saying, at least once, how funny, smart and beautiful she was.

However, she felt that this was different.

It wasn’t her partner. This was a stranger saying such nice things about her, and that’s what she wasn't used to.

— I’m glad I’m making your job easier — she replied, as Ally dabbed her tissue under her eyes.

— Much easier, Miss Lauda — she said with a laugh.

— Please, just Elisabeth is enough.

Ally smiled, throwing the tissue away before starting to apply the makeup. Her skin was primed with a low-coverage foundation, followed by a little concealer in a few specific spots. Then, she applied some bronzer, some blush and, finally, an illuminator. She adjusted her brows a bit and applied mascara to her lashes, and then finished her look with a creamy rose-colored lipstick. It matched the natural color of her lips already.

Ally was putting the finishing touches on her face when another woman, with orange hair and the greenest eyes she'd ever seen, approached with a smile on her face.

— Is she ready to get her hair done, Ally?

— Yeah, just about. By the way, Elisabeth, this is Imogen, the hairstylist.

She nodded, watching Imogen grab a brush to detangle her brown strands. Then, she picked up a curling iron from the vanity’s drawer and began to smooth waves through her hair, taking care not to leave any streaks. As she sprayed some hairspray on her strands, Elisabeth saw Melissa with a hanger in her hands approaching through the reflection of the mirror.

— Elisabeth, this is the dress you’re going to wear today — she said, holding out the garment for her to examine. It was a long-sleeved crocheted dress, the weave of carefully crafted white thread, with a plunging neckline. A luxurious and daring piece.

— It’s very beautiful —  she replied, forcing a smile.

— You’ll look stunning in it, I’m sure. Imogen, is her hair done? She needs to get dressed.

The hairdresser released another wave of the curling iron, smiling.

— I just need to finish off with the beach spray, a moment — she said, dropping the curling iron clumsily on top of the vanity and picking up a can of product that was hidden in a corner, applying it to her hair.

Looking at her own reflection, the impression Elisabeth had was that she had just left the beach after a whole day with her feet in the sand. Her skin looked legitimately flushed from the sun and her hair looked as if it had been smoothed by the warm breeze, the waves formed by the salt water effect on her strands. “Pretty”, she thought, smiling.

— Shall we, Elisabeth?

— Yes — she said, rising from her chair and following Melissa into one of the dressing rooms.

As sexy as the dress looked on the hanger, it looked far more so on her body. The weave was somewhat transparent and hugged her curves. The neckline was sensual, plunging down to her sternum. “No turning back now”, she thought, smoothing her hand over the fabric before leaving the dressing area.

Outside, Melissa was talking to Ally when she came out of the dressing room. Turning her face towards her, she noticed that her eyes lit up.

— You look beautiful, Elisabeth — the stylist said quietly.

— Beautiful is not enough. Gorgeous — Ally said, smiling.

Behind them, a third female voice gasped in surprise.

— Elisabeth, you’re absolutely stunning — Emilia said, approaching her. Her blonde hair was pulled back into an elegant bun, and she had eyeliner highlighting her blue eyes. She wore a low-cut nude bodysuit with a tulle skirt that did little to cover her legs.

— Isn’t it too much? — Elisabeth asked, running her finger along the edge of her neckline. She felt a little strange.

— It’s perfect — she said, approaching her and taking her hands.

— I feel so awkward… Like, I’m over-exposed.

— Toto will say you’re overdressed for his taste — Emilia replied with a sly smile, making her face heat up and her friend laugh.

Elisabeth scolded her, reminding her to not say anything about Toto too loudly,  as Melissa approached them, a friendly smile on her face.

— Girls, we need to get you to the back of the stage to organize the order of entry. Can you come with me?

They followed the stylist, heading towards a lounge that overlooked the entrance to the main stage. There, in addition to some armchairs, a screen was installed that showed the crowd assembled in the audience. Elisabeth’s eyes were glued to the screen, desperately searching for Toto in the crowd at the fashion show.

However, she felt her stomach turn at the sight of an obvious red dot seated in the audience. “It can’t be, he couldn’t have come”, she thought, her heart racing.

The camera changed its angle, and Elisabeth was sure she was screwed.

Sitting in the front row, Niki was laughing at some comment Toto had made. He was dressed casually, a cream-colored suit over a blue sweater. Marlene, sitting next to her father in an elegant white dress, was talking to a woman who was trying to control a baby on her lap.

— Elisabeth, are you okay? — Ally asked, looking at her.

— No — she stammered, feeling a lump forming in her throat, a twinge of pain in her chest. Her heart felt like it was going to explode, as fast as it was beating. With her eyes fixed on the screen, Elisabeth felt her body getting colder and colder, the thin crochet weave that covered her body no longer enough to keep her warm.

“Is this how I die?”, she thought to herself, not realizing that a pair of arms were encircling her.

— Elisabeth — she heard Emilia say. She sounded distant. — Talk to me, Elisabeth.

Her breathing was heavy. She seemed to be fighting her own body to get oxygen into her lungs. Her focus on continuing to breathe was so strong that she didn’t even realize she was no longer standing, but sitting in an armchair, her legs shaking uncontrollably.

— Elisabeth, it’s okay, it’s okay — her friend repeated, crouching in front of her — Breathe along with me, it’s okay.

She wanted to speak, but no words came out of her mouth.

Her throat continued to close up.

— I… I… No — she managed to stammer, her hands shaking.

She was going to die, she was sure of it.

— Look at me, Elisabeth — she said, taking her hands. With some difficulty, she raised her eyes to meet Emilia’s worried gaze.

— Come on, breathe in with me — she said — Now breathe out. Yes, like that.

Elisabeth wasn't sure how long they had spent in that corner of the backstage, doing that thing so basic she seemed to have unlearned in a matter of seconds. However, she knew it had been a few minutes, just by the fact that the master of ceremonies’ voice was blaring from the speakers scattered through the backstage area.

— Feeling better? — Emilia asked in a whisper.

— Yes — she replied in a thin voice. The tight feeling in her throat had eased, but her chest still ached.

— What happened, Elisabeth?

— My parents are here — she said, feeling her legs start to shake again — My parents came to this damn thing. They’re not even into this sort of thing, Emilia!

— Oh my God — she whispered, as the complexity of the situation dawned on her.

— It was already difficult to do this with Toto watching, now with my parents here, it’s going to be impossible — she started talking, gesturing with her hands.

— Elisabeth…

— They’re going to hate it, I’m sure they’re going to hate it, why did I agree to do this…

— Elisabeth, please — her friend said, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

— I can’t, Emilia, I can’t, I can’t…

— Elisabeth, listen to me…

— I’m an idiot, an imbecile, I shouldn’t have agreed, I’ll never be like my mother, I’ll never be like those models that he dated, I’ll never be like Aurélie…

— Elisabeth! — Emilia growled, making her shut up — Listen to me.

She blinked, a little startled by Emilia’s reaction. Her friend, who had always been the portrait of calm and serenity, was now staring at her with an irritated expression. Elisabeth had definitely pissed her off.

— You’re not an idiot, let alone an imbecile. You will never be like your mother, but do you know why? Because you are Elisabeth Lauda. You are unique and that’s what makes you special. You don’t have to be like anyone else, especially considering you’re such an amazing, smart, beautiful person.

Her eyes were full of tears.

— And if you must know, you’ll never be like Toto’s exes or Aurélie anyway, because you’re better. You’re a successful, independent businesswoman, and that is exactly what made Toto fall in love with you.

— But… What if he doesn’t like it?

Emilia rolled her eyes.

— Then it’s his problem, not yours. Now, I want you to stand up, take a deep breath, lift that face and show that man the woman he has on his side.

She stood up, taking a deep breath.

Then she lifted her chin.

Elisabeth had no idea what force was moving her at that moment.

She just knew that her legs were guiding her towards the line of models that were being positioned at the entrance to the catwalk by Erica, who was still holding the clipboard in her hand. Seeing her, the woman smiled.

— Miss Lauda, you’ll be the last one in, okay?

— Yes — she replied with a firmness and resolve that she didn’t know the source for.

When the presenter announced the start of Melissa Odabash’s Spring-Summer 2015 collection show, Elisabeth felt her throat close up again, her body getting cold again. “No, not this time, Elisabeth”, she said mentally, taking a deep breath.

— Elisabeth — she heard Emilia say from behind her. Turning away, she saw her give her a thumbs-up. It would work. Everything had to work.

One by one, the models entered the catwalk, following the signal given by Erica. The conversations and shutter clicks grew as each of the women appeared in front of the audience, almost drowning out the electronic beat that served as the event’s soundtrack.

— Elisabeth, it’s your turn — Erica said, smiling.

She nodded and took a deep breath, heading up the stairs. “Show time”, she thought to herself, smiling broadly and walking with firm steps towards the spot lit by the spotlight, which marked the beginning of the catwalk.

The lights and flashes dazzled her vision, the sounds of cameras and conversations reduced to mere murmurs inside her head. Every step was careful, every movement of her arms was calculated, every blink of her eyes was thought out. On top of that catwalk, Elisabeth realized she was there to prove something.

Not to her parents or the press or Toto.

But to herself.

She was out there to prove that she was capable of anything she wanted to do.

Stopping at the edge of the dais, Elisabeth posed for a few seconds for the photographers, who shouted her name in an attempt to draw her attention to their lens. Turning her back quickly, she looked at them over her shoulder for a few seconds before making her way back.

And as Elisabeth turned her face forward, her eyes met Toto’s in the crowd. He was staring at her with his mouth slightly open, his expression somewhere between surprise and delight at what he was seeing. Beside him, her father watched her closely, a smile curving his lips. Her mother, on the other hand, was an emotional mess, squeezing Niki’s hand as she pressed her lips together in an attempt not to cry.

Seeing the reaction of the three people she loved most in the world, her smile grew wider as she walked back to the beginning of the catwalk.

She did it.

Hours later, Elisabeth was holding a glass of champagne in her hands, a wide smile on her face. Beside her, her parents seemed not to be able to contain their pride in front of her, posing for photos and talking to everyone who approached her about how well she had done and how the talent for modeling was in her blood.

Unfortunately, the night had not been so pleasant for Emilia. Although she walked the runway beautifully, she didn’t find in the audience who she most wanted to see: Valtteri. With frustration evident on her face, Elisabeth had to watch her friend leave early from the party, the feeling of helplessness growing in her chest as she walked away from her with tears in her eyes.

Squeezed into a corner of the party, her mind was still replaying the moment her eyes met Toto’s when she heard a familiar voice behind her.

— You mean that Elisabeth Renate Lauda, in addition to being a businesswoman and investor, is also a model? — the man said, making her smile broadly. Turning around, she found Toto with the biggest smile she’d ever seen on his face.

— Just for today — she replied, laughing.

— In my opinion, it could be forever — he murmured, placing a chaste kiss on her cheek, a greeting that couldn’t be mistaken for anything but him being professional. In an environment like this, where eyes were always on the lookout for every move, anything beyond mere politeness could spark unwanted rumors and gossip.

— I thought you’d enjoy it — Elisabeth replied, taking a sip of champagne.

— Why? — he raised an inquiring eyebrow, putting one hand in the pocket of his black dress pants.

— Aren’t you the Model Man? — she asked him, the shadow of a smile on her face.

Toto looked around them, making sure there were no prying eyes watching them. Then he took a step forward and brought his face closer to hers.

— I’m Elisabeth Lauda’s man, did you forget about it?

— Are you? — she asked with a mischievous smile on her face — Maybe I need a reminder.

He spent some seconds in silence, as if processing what she had just said. Then, after another discreet look around them, Toto took Elisabeth’s wrist and pulled her into a corner behind a column, away from any eyes.

— What are you doing? — she asked, feeling his hands slide down her body to her butt, giving an ungentle squeeze, making her stifle a squeak.

— Giving you a reminder, my model — Toto replied, taking her lips with his in a fierce kiss that tasted like desire and expensive champagne.

His hands were pulling her body against his, his fingers tangled in the crochet weave of her dress, squeezing her bottom tightly. Elisabeth even thought about protesting, but with one of her hands tightly gripping his hair, as if she might fall if she wasn't holding onto it, she was completely surrendered.

Pulling his face slightly away from hers, Toto smiled, breathless.

— I’ve wanted to do this ever since I saw you in this dress on that catwalk — he said, brushing his nose on hers — You looked divine, Liesl.

Elisabeth smiled.

— What professional makeup and hairstyling can't do, right?

He shaked his head.

— It really doesn't enter your head that you're beautiful, does it?

— Because I am not. This is all makeup, hairstyle and a nice outfit. It's not me. I'm just a — she hesitated for a second — Ugly duckling.

He tucked a lock of Elisabeth's hair behind her ear.

— Where did you get this ugly duckling idea from?

Elisabeth pressed her lips together. She had never told anyone about what happened to her at VIS. Not to her parents or siblings. It was almost like a scar that she carried inside her and that had completely shaped her personality and vision, both of the world and of herself. 

— It was what they called me.

— They?

— My classmates at school.

— Why?

— That's when we moved back to Vienna. A classmate of mine brought one of those gossip magazines to class and had a story about my mom and me. And the headline said I was an ugly duckling. And they started calling me that.

Toto blinked.

— They bullied you?

— Yeah.

— I suppose you put them in their place, didn't you?

Elisabeth looked down.

— You told your parents about it?

— No — she muttered.

— Mathias, Lukas?

— I had never told anyone. Well, until now.

He looked at her thoughtfully, as if the dots were connecting in his head. It was as if Toto had finally understood the reason for her dislike of cameras, as well as the lack of pictures of her as a teenager and the rather impressive amount of coats and hoodies Elisabeth had kept in the apartments in Vienna and in the Oxfordshire house.

— Am I the first to know about this?

— Yes.

— Why?

— Because I decided to face my trauma today. Emilia invited me to participate in this fashion show and convinced me by saying that you would come. And I wanted to show that I could be like... The other ones.

— The other ones?

— The models and beauty queens you dated.

He chuckled, seeming not to believe it.

— Are you saying that you did all this…

— Because your ex-girlfriends were models and I wanted to impress you? Yes, Toto.

— Elisabeth…

— Toto, from the moment I leave the office, I become nothing. I am my career. I'm not pretty, sociable or friendly like the other women you have dated. I am the most boring person ever. Even my career is boring!

— Can you listen to me? — he tried to say, without success.

— Honestly, I don't even know what you saw in me.

— Clearly much more than you can see yourself.

Elisabeth looked away at the empty champagne flute in her hand. However, Toto made her look up again, their eyes meeting.

— From the first moment your father mentioned you, I was interested in you. The way he spoke of your intelligence and ability attracted me even before I saw you for the first time — he said, his thumb caressing her chin — And when I saw you on Edvard, with those eyes bluer than the Danube and that sweet smile, I knew I was in trouble.

— Trouble?

— Yes, in trouble. Simply the most beautiful woman I had ever seen had just sat at my table and I couldn't say anything because her father was on my side — he chuckled — Dinner was going on and I hadn't been able to exchange a single word with you. I thought I would never see you again and I was resigning myself to that possibility, until Niki invited you to Singapore and you accepted. You have no idea how happy I was when you said yes.

Elisabeth gave a small smile.

— After our lunch at the hotel in Singapore, I was convinced you were just fantastic. Your humor and your intelligence stood out more than your beauty.

— Beauty — she muttered, unconvinced.

— Yes, beauty. You are a beautiful woman. None of the other women I've dated come close to being beautiful like you. You are so beautiful that it is impossible to forget about you — Toto said in a low voice — I know this because I tried, Elisabeth. And I failed.

— Toto…

— I realized that I would never forget you after the accident. I thought it was some concussion symptom or something, because I saw you in everything, all the time. I saw you in every pair of blue eyes, in every woman with brown hair, in every click of heels. Even when I shouldn't see you, there you were.

Elisabeth didn’t know what to say.

— When I said I needed you, I was telling the truth. I needed you. I need you. And I need you as you are. Not a version of you like the others, but you. The Elisabeth who ties her hair up like her mother, who drinks more coffee than she should and who curses more than her father during the races. Much more, in fact.

He came over and enveloped her in a hug, his chin resting on the top of her head. A few seconds of silence later, she heard Toto ask.

— Do you really know the story of the ugly duckling?

— It's about a baby duck that's ugly — she said.

— It's not a baby duck, Liesl. It's a baby swan.

Elisabeth turned her face away slightly, looking at him.

— Swans are not pretty when young, but they become beautiful birds in adulthood — Toto explained — Not that I think it's an adequate comparison, as I've seen your childhood photos and found you to be an adorable child. But somehow crooked and with many caveats, they were right. You were the ugly duckling and you turned into the most beautiful swan on the lake.

Elisabeth felt tears well up in her eyes.

— How do you know it is a swan? — she asked, her voice a bit choked up.

— I have two children, Liesl. I’ve told them this story more times than I can count.

She smiled.

— You're a good father, Toto.

— And you will be a good mother — he mumbled, until he realized what he had said, then added — Someday.

— Yeah, someday — she replied softly, hugging him again.

In the back of her mind, an idea was starting to germinate.

An idea that would call her mom.

[mistrdctr]

@mxrvelouscreations cont. [x]

Upon hearing the other man speak, Stephen realizes he might have been a bit too harsh here; It's just one of those days where things are stressful, the weather is too hot and he's felt uncomfortable ever since getting out of bed. That's not the man's fault, though, so he just sighs before making a gesture as if to say 'It's fine, just keep calling me that if you like' as his gaze averts, over to the paddock where Cricked is currently grazing, scratching along the ground with the mentioned hoof as if she's annoyed by it's mere existence.

"---I usually do most stuff myself when it comes to the horses, but... horseshoe-fitting is not really something I'm good at, so - your help is appreciated." Strange pulls a cigarette from the pocket of his pants and puts it between his lips, using a match to set the tip on fire, inhaling some of the smoke. He flicks the used match away, then noda over to the brown mare, his gaze returning to his visitor seconds after.

"So... I assume you must be Mister Stark, then. heard you're good at what you do, so... I hope you can fix whatever the previous idiot has fucked up before."

[follow-up-news]

The Supreme Court on Friday stepped into a new gun rights battle by agreeing to weigh whether a Trump-era ban on so-called bump stocks, which allow semi-automatic rifles to fire more quickly, is lawful. The justices were asked by both the Biden administration and gun rights activists to take up the issue, with lower courts reaching differing conclusions on it. The case concerns Texas-based gun owner and licensed dealer Michael Cargill, who owned two bump stocks before the ban went into effect and later surrendered them to the government. He sued, claiming that the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives lacked the legal authority to implement the prohibition. The conservative-majority high court issued a major ruling in June 2022 that expanded gun rights, although the legal issues arising from the bump stocks ban are different. Bump stocks are accessories for semi-automatic rifles, such as the popular AR-15-style weapons. They use the recoil energy of a trigger pull to enable the user to fire up to hundreds of rounds a minute. President Donald Trump’s administration imposed the ban after the mass shooting in Las Vegas in 2017, when Stephen Paddock used bump stocks to open fire on a country music festival, initially killing 58 people. Paddock died by suicide as he was about to be apprehended.

[wdhmbt]

is it Momus, tthe old guy drinking with an uncomfortably younger asian woman i mean. fits his M.O. tbh

Lol, that's Stephen Paddock

[collapsedsquid]

According to the gambler, casinos had previously treated high rollers like Paddock to free cruises, flights, penthouse suites, rides in “nice cars” and wine country tours. But in the years before the Oct. 1, 2017, mass shooting in Las Vegas, the gambler said casinos had begun banning some high rollers “for playing well and winning large quantities of money.” Paddock himself had been banned from three Reno casinos, according to the documents.

Kelly McMahill, a former Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department official who headed the agency’s criminal investigation into the shooting, said there was no strong indication that Paddock’s actions were driven by resentment toward the casino industry.

It's like they're writing this piece to imply that that the Vegas cops are covering up his motives because they were afraid otherwise he'd be as successful as Abe's killer