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buckstaposition · 4 years ago

Text

I cling to your lips like gloss (4)

a Javier Peña x OFC story

also on AO3

tags&warnings: spoilers for S3 eps1+2 mainly, some for later episodes also; mention of drug use; brief description of a panic attack; sleazy David Rodríguez is sleazy; somewhat liberal use of the f-word and also other swearing; reference to past canon character deaths; this blog is CIA station chief Bill Stechner-phobic to the max; most non-graphic, vaguest possible reference to sex (to when Javi goes home with that lady in episode 1); oblivious mutual pining; idiots with zero emotional self-awareness; domesticity

word count: 15.435 (I’m sorry, here are some snacks 🍌🥨🧁🥤)

summary: Diana goes into the lions’ den. Javier is not having a good time. No one gets enough sleep.

tag list & author’s notes have been moved to the bottom. let me just say sorry this took me so long and I hope you’re all well and healthy and happy holidays and may the new year be better for all of us

Masterlist

Prologue • Chapter 1 - The Informant • Chapter 2 - A Wedding and Four Funerals • Chapter 3 - Swallow Pride and Anger

Chapter 4 - Prime Numbers

Franklin Jurado, Diana thinks, is a bit of an ass. It's not even that he happily, willingly, goes around laundering narcos' blood money, or that he gets rich off that himself. In this moment, it's mostly the way he dismissively rolls his eyes and can barely keep the contempt out of his voice when arguing with her about Maltese vs Caymanian tax loopholes. Like she's an idiot for actually reading the laws, spotty as they are.

On top of everything, it's keeping her in her office well past the time she was meaning to start getting changed and dolled up for the grand party that night, and she feels a pressure headache of annoyance building behind her temples to boot.

She's this close to bludgeoning the man with her stapler when an insistent knock sounds at the door, followed by a blonde head poking in. The blonde lady starts speaking in rapid English, too abrupt for Diana's brain to keep up with what is being said, but she instinctively recognized the tone of a husband being reamed out with righteous indignation and if nothing else, it gives her a certain kind of vindication.

"Hi, I'm Christina Jurado. Just Christina is fine. Pleasure to meet you!" The other woman now stepped fully into her office, holding out her hand and smiling just a tad too brightly.

"Diana...Galindo." Why she'd chosen to be known here under her married name is anyone's guess. Perhaps it was mostly a matter of having grown used to it. Perhaps it allowed her to pretend that this wasn't quite her, just an act to be put on for a greater purpose. That helping drug cartel bosses hide their blood money from the tax man and signing off on their henchmen's paychecks was something that Diana Teresa Artemisia Rivas Rincón would not be caught dead doing, no matter the circumstances. "Pleased to meet you."

"Franklin, we'll be late!" the other woman throws over her shoulder. Rather pointedly, too.

"We're not done discussing-"

"I don't care, Franklin!" There's a moment of very animated eye contact, the kind of wordless back-and-forth that she'd dreamt of developing with Juan Mateo but that they never quite managed. Just another little detail that ultimately spelled the end of their marriage. "Actually, why don't your ride with us?"

"I, um-" Diana instinctively reached to adjust the wire she'd been wearing for most of the day (to get used to the feeling and not inadvertently betray herself later), only catching herself in the last moment and fidgeting with the collar on her blouse instead. "I- Felipe was supposed to drive me. I need to get ready still, too."

"Eh, he can tag along. What are you wearing? Do you have your dress here?" She did. There was no arguing with Christina, but no malice in her overbearing imperiousness either. Nonetheless, Diana tried to argue, if only for politeness' sake. How she wouldn't want to impose. That it wasn't a problem, since Miguel Rodríguez had very kindly arranged for her transportation in the form of the afore-mentioned Felipe. Mrs Jurado waved it all off. And perhaps the obvious annoyance in Franklin Jurado's eyes gave her a little push. Say what one might about the Rodríguez brothers, but at least neither of them had ever questioned her professional expertise.

Before she knows what hit her, the three of them are sailing out of the building and towards the cars parked out front. Well, Christina is sailing, while Franklin and Diana are trotting along behind her and shooting each other sour looks. It's the kind of wrathful indignation that she hadn't felt since second grade, when Bruno Moreno had pulled her pigtails and stolen her pencil. Christina seemed unperturbed, ordering the drivers around in her accented but surprisingly decent Spanish. Felipe caught Diana's eye, wringing his hands and questions in his eye.

"It seems I will be riding with Mr and Mrs Jurado. Perhaps you'd be kind enough to follow us to their hotel and then take my work clothes back to the office after I've changed? I'd hate to have to lug around my stuff or leave it lying around somewhere. You'd be a great help this way, and as far as I'm concerned, you can go straight home after that."

"Of course, ma'am." He nodded, seeming relieved by the clear instructions. Diana smiled and handed off her garment bag to the Jurados' driver.

The drive itself could have been more awkward, what with being caged in the back of this limousine with two strangers, one of whom all but openly despised her and spent his time pouting after his wife had told him in no uncertain terms that if a single word of work talk left his lips she'd shove him out the door and into oncoming traffic. Luckily she also had made it her personal mission to pack half an evening's worth of small talk into the barely twenty-minute-ride.

The Jurados' suite was grand, the lounge alone bigger than the house Diana had grown up in. She was still trying not to show how out of place she felt among all the marble and gilded edges when Christina steered her towards the back, still prattling on in a way that the DEA would have a lot of fun picking through when they got the recording from her wire.

"Ugh, this place is so... Sorry, we wanted the president's suite, but one of the North Valley people snatched it up. Their... Who is he, Franklin? That unpleasant little man - is he the leader of the pack? With the young woman we saw when we checked in. Was that his wife?"

"Salazar." Franklin muttered, his face curdling into a deeper frown. At least Diana wasn't at the top of his most hated list, apparently. "Yeah, I think so honey."

"She looked awfully young."

"I'm sure we'll meet them all at the party."

"Something to look forward to." Christina grimaced and pulled Diana into the spacious bathroom, settling her down in front of a gigantic vanity mirror.

"Alright, what are we doing with you?" Diana looked at her own wide-eyed reflection staring back at her while Christina started pulling her hair free from the simple clip she'd used to hold it up.

"I, uh-" Diana pushed her glasses back up her nose and frowned. "I have contact lenses." She gestured vaguely towards her reflection. She had also packed a small bag with the handful of make-up items she owned, but lack of practice didn't exactly serve to make her adept at using them. Christina grinned excitedly, her whitened teeth shining. "Well no, that won't do! Hang on."

She sprung up and rushed towards the door, only stopping when she reached her husband who had lingered there, leaning against the frame.

"Hey you." For a moment, they softened, stealing a small kiss amid halted momentum. Diana ached to witness it. "Hey yourself."

"Go get changed." Christina smiled, kissing his cheek as she brushed past to dive into her suitcase.

"You're telling me? Don't take too long, we're on a schedule here." The words were softened by his tender expression, and as she walked past on her way back he reeled her in for another, deeper kiss. Diana pretended to be very invested in not poking her eyeballs out. Well, half-pretended. Putting in contact lenses was another thing she wasn't exactly used to. When she'd finally managed to fumble the second lens onto her eyeball, Franklin had long left and closed the door.

Without further ado, Christina set to work. Within moments, the marble counter was covered with various cosmetics and the other woman's eager hands set to work. Diana had no choice but to submit. Thankfully again, it was Christina who shouldered the bulk of the conversation.

"So, I did notice you're not wearing a wedding band, Mrs Galindo." Diana's eyes were closed, as her eyeshadow was currently being blended, but she did stiffen and instinctively her other hand went to touch where her ring had been. "Oh damn, I hope that wasn't- He's not tragically deceased, is he?"

"No, we're...separated. Divorcing. It's... it's dragging on, to be honest. I've learned more about Colombian marriage law in the past year than I ever wanted to know." She tried to diffuse with a joke, but it didn't quite land.

"Sorry, you must think me so rude. We only just met and here I am acting like we're friends!" She bit out in a jarring departure from her hitherto genial tone. "Anyway, I admire you. That can't have been easy what with how...uh-"

"...Catholic this country is?" Diana supplied, clasping the other woman's hands in hers with a slight smile. Christina huffed in relief. "Yes, I suppose. It's just... it's so hard. Marriage I mean. Sometimes I don't even know how to bear it." Her gaze fell towards the bathroom door that Franklin had closed behind himself upon leaving. Her voice dropped to a whisper as she continued. "How did you even know you couldn't go on like this?"

Diana gulped, hating what she was about to do. Resenting, for a moment, women like Gabriela who only had to sell a bit of their time and acess to their bodies to these people. She felt like she was selling away her soul every single day.

"Mrs Jurado-"

"Christina. Please, you can call me Christina."

"Christina, let me be honest. I never truly loved my husband, and he didn't love me. We liked each other and it was convenient, and expected, to get married. And in the end that proved to not be enough. But from what little I have seen, that's not something you and your husband have to contend with. Even if things are hard, as long as there is love you can overcome them. You have to believe in that."

Christina choked out a tearful little laugh, like in spite of herself.

"Oh God, good thing I haven't put on mascara yet. You're making me all dewy-eyed." She chuckled, then threw her arms around Diana and gave her a tight squeeze. "Thank you. Really."

"Of course," Diana awkwardly patted the other woman's back, thankful that she wasn't currently facing the mirror, "and I would be happy to become your friend." Whatever ice had remained between the two women was broken after that. Christina perked up and returned to chatting animatedly, finishing her make-up, doing up her hair in a very elegant twisted bun, and gushing over her dress.

"Do you have any jewelry to go with it?"

"Not really, no. I only ever wear this." Diana indicated the thin silver chain around her neck. Christina tutted.

"Well, that just won't do. Wait, let me just-" An impatient knock at the door interrupted her. "Oh dear, looks like we're running late."

Diana saw a chance to get a moment alone and suggested they each get dressed quickly, and separately, lest they waste any more time and husbandly nerves with their chatter.

"Okay, but holler if you need help with the zipper or anything."

Diana had never squeezed into a garment faster, glad that she had chosen to put on the wire device that morning already. She tugged the actual wire tight around her body where it had loosened over the course of the day, then shimmied into the underdress she'd brought in the hopes that it would conceal any suspicious bumps or lines. She had almost wrestled the zipper into its final position when Christina knocked and entered, quickly getting the last inch or so with a comment of how husbands were useful for some things.

"Anyway, I thought these would suit you." Christina presented an opened velvet case. Sitting inside it was a jewelry set, sapphires with diamonds set in gold. Real ones, judging by the Cartier labelling embossed into the velvet. A necklace, earrings, bracelet and ring, all fancier and more ostentacious than anything Diana had ever set eyes on. Immediately, her palms started sweating.

"Oh, I couldn't possibly-"

"Nonsense." Christina cut her off, placing the case down and snatching the bracelet and Diana's wrist. "You'll look so pretty and expensive. You can return them to me later, we'll be in town until Tuesday." Having clasped the bracelet around her wrist, she now moved on to the earrings. "Maybe we could get coffee on the weekend or something."

"I'd like that." Diana lied. Christina smiled at her brightly. "Great! I just need to ...uh, freshen up a moment." Taking the hint, Diana gathered up her things and stepped outside, awkwardly holding her bag of of work clothes to give to Felipe down in the hotel lobby. Franklin was standing by a sideboard, boredly rifling through a magazine.

"Mrs Galindo." He acknowledged. For a split second, he looked like he wanted to add something, but caught himself. Diana followed his gaze towards the closed bathroom door, behind which low noises of shuffling and splashing water could be heard.

"How long have you two been married?" She had no idea how this information might help the investigation, but determined that wasn't for her to worry about. Franklin sighed, gaze still fixed on the door and absent.

"Seven years now." He finally tore his eyes away from the door and let them flit over her briefly, catching on the borrowed jewels but electing not to comment on it. "They say the seventh year is the hardest, don't they?"

"I wouldn't know. I never made it that far." Though if Juan Mateo didn't pull his head out of his ass soon she would spend the seventh year still technically married. The thought made her frown.

Before either of them had to search for more overburdened smalltalk, the bathroom door blessedly clicked open and Christina emerged with a wide grin and a spring to her step, her eyes just a smidgeon glassy and too bright. Diana politely pretended not to see the remnants of fine white powder that Franklin surreptitiously wiped from her nose and upper lip. --- They arrived not exactly on time but not fashionably late either. There's a line of cars already plugging up the driveway to the sprawling estate, stringed lights illuminating against the darkening sky. They got out and sauntered towards the two-storey villa, the Jurados up front and Diana trailing behind like the kid that's finally allowed to come along to the fancy family outings. Her dress hadn't felt this tight in the store, or at any point afterwards, until just now.

"Franklin! I'm so glad you're finally here! Mrs Jurado, it's a pleasure." Diana can only just contain the flinch at the sound of this voice, and before long Miguel Rodríguez turns to her with one of his bright, self-satisfied smiles. "Mrs Galindo, I'm so glad you could come. We need to introduce you to the rest of the guys! It's been too long!"

He has his arm around her shoulders within the same breath, exuberant and steering her through the scattered throngs of people at a pace that doesn't even allow for snatching a champagne flute from one of the waiters floating around. She plastered on a fake demure smile. The 'invitation' hadn't exactly been a matter of mere suggestion.

Miguel led them to a dainty pagoda that sat a comfortable distance from the pool and most of the din and chatter of the other guests, nestled between the luscious greenery of the large garden. Diana could hear the mumbled whispers of the Jurados behind her, Miguel's droning on of meaningless small talk that she barely paid attention to. She could see Gilberto's back, his stature dwarfed almost comically by that of a much larger and broader man sat to his side, with short silver hair that gleamed in the low light.

"Gentlemen, I believe we are complete!" Miguel boomed, ushering her up the few steps and into the circle.

"Mrs Galindo, what a pleasure!" Gilberto shot up and made a show of shaking her hand and pulling her close to present her to the rest of the ...associates.

"Now I believe you've not yet met these fine gentlemen. Pacho Herrera, Diana Galindo." Pacho stood and took her hand gingerly, his face impassive and tone painstakingly polite and neutral. "My pleasure."

"Mr Herrera." Diana replied, heart thumping up into her throat. They'd not so much met as passed each other in front of offices or meeting rooms a handful of times, his tightly coiled, jaguar-like energy always seeming just a smidge out of place in those blandly corporate spaces.

"And here's Chepe, came all the way down from New York especially!" The large man with the silver hair stood to his full impressive height, snatching her hand with a wolfish grin and dropping a just-too-moist kiss on the back of it with a wink. Diana did her utmost not to flinch. For just a moment, she regretted the moment she'd taken off her ring and put it in front of a shocked Juan Mateo on their kitchen table before leaving their shared apartment. It was moments like these that she missed the protection it had afforded her from some unwanted advances.

Pallomari was last, balding and skittish, with huge owl-eye glasses not unlike the first pair she'd ever had.

"Mrs Galindo, how interesting to finally put a face to the name." He greeted, sounding painfully rehearsed. Diana returned with some meaningless pleasantry, hyper-aware of the wiretap device against her skin. She wondered whether it even picked up anything apart from the thundering of her heart.

"So, about your big announcement-" Miguel began once everyone was settled into a seat with a drink in hand. Gilberto cut him off almost immediately.

"Now, now brother, let's enjoy the party a bit beforehand." A look passed between them, a challenge issued and accepted, until Miguel turned his gaze away with a barely concealed snarl. Gilberto leaned back in his seat, glass raised with a smug and triumphant smirk. "Let's just say that I have made an important investment into our future. We will continue to thrive, but more importantly, we will be safe. Our families will be safe."

With that cryptic remark, he threw back his drink, expression melting from jovial to grim. The ensuing silence made the hair on the back of Diana's neck stand up, a feat she wouldn't have thought possible with the amount of hairspray Christina had encased her head in.

"He's dead, Pablo's dead." Miguel reached over where she was squished between the two men, squeezing his brother's arm in reassurance. "He's gone and we helped bring him down."

"We did. This country should build us monuments, instead they issue arrest warrants!" Gilberto bit out, pouring himself another glass of whiskey.

"To Pablo Escobar, may he forever rot in hell!" Chepe bellowed, glass raised high. They all joined in. Diana thought of her father. How he'd done her hair and walked her to school every morning and tucked her in with a new story every night when she was a girl. How, during her first year of university when she'd been so lonely and homesick she broke down crying, he'd taken precious time off work and taken a night bus to come visit her in Bogotá for a weekend. How her heart still split down the middle whenever she so much as thought of the crash that killed him. But the gentlemen didn't need to know that she despised them just as much as she did Escobar, not yet anyway. So, she raised her champagne alongside and joined her voice in the chorus of gleeful condemnation. - She'd just escaped Christina and the gaggle of wives for a moment, excusing herself to the restrooms. What the DEA might glean from their inane chatter, she couldn't possibly fathom. She was glad that she was free of them for a moment, and that disecting the recording wasn't her problem to deal with. On her way into the house, she must have passed by at least two dozen important and powerful people. There were a few handfuls of representatives, a number of mayors, at least two senators, an attorney general and an army general. No one she'd ever voted for, at least. And those were just the ones she'd managed to get Miguel to introduce to her, or her to them - either way, she'd made sure to repeat every name as clearly as possible for the recording.

Rounding the last corner in from the veranda, she all but ran into Salcedo.

"Mrs Galindo." His tone was clipped as ever. She wasn't sure whether he might be suspicious of her in particular, or whether it was a general thing and he was just like that.

"Mr Salcedo." She nodded, tone painstakingly polite. He set her teeth on edge, always so stiff-backed with that serpent edge to him; in a ranking of people within the cartel who had this effect on her he would probably come in about third. She wondered what Javier- what Agent Peña would make of the man. "What brings you here, Mrs Galindo?" Or perhaps he just didn't like her for some reason. Which was very much a mutual sentiment. Not that she held particular sympathies for anyone here.

"To the restroom?" *Take a wild guess, buddy*, she thought, one eyebrow arching with clear condescension.

"To the...house."

"The restroom." She resisted rolling her eyes. As much as she may personally dislike Miguel's chief of security, purposely antagonizing him was probably a bad idea. And yet, petty temptation beckoned in every nook and cranny. Like the sideboard they were currently standing in front of that displayed a solid bronze statue of a very rotund dancing couple. "To marvel at the Botero, naturally."

Salcedo's eyes followed her nod towards the heavy bronze. "It's genuine, you know." He said it not in the tone of an art aficionado, but rather in the crudely suggestive one of a third-rate telenovela detective trying to be slick by not outright asking if she meant to steal it.

"Of course, Mr Rodríguez wouldn't stand for anything less." The thing was half her size and probably twice as heavy, what was he thinking? Himself a master at subtle insinuation, probably. Or that being poor and growing up in the comunas naturally meant she had sticky fingers. Uptight, hoity-toity middle class prick. Like his employers weren't internationally wanted criminals of the highest degree. The audacity of it!

His mouth was already halfway open to retort when his name being yelled from outside made both of them turn. David Rodríguez hung onto the veranda door, snapping at Salcedo that his father wanted him for something, and pronto. Diana could practically hear his teeth grind in irritation, but he schooled his face into a carefully blank facade before he gave David a nod.

"Ma'am." Salcedo gave in and moved, squeezing by David. David purposefully did not budge, instead giving her a leery once-over before following after the other man.

Diana fled into the bathroom down the hall in a manner she hoped looked urgent rather than as panicked as she felt inside. She held it together until the lock slid closed, and then she was crouched on the floor, curled up and heavy breathing into her hands. The small pressure point of the wire recorder thingy felt like a ton weight against her chest and her heart was beating so fast she could feel it everywhere.

Hyperventilating. You're hyperventilating, her brain supplied unhelpfully, and she almost laughed at herself. She wished she wasn't here all on her own, wished she had at least one of those spy devices in her ear for some moral support, tried to recall the exact feeling of Agent Peña's hands on her shoulders, warm and grounding. One hand remained up, muffling the desperate breaths and whimpers from her mouth, while the other dropped, thumb dipping underneath the fabric at her chest to brush soothingly across her collarbone. It worked...to a degree. A very small degree. What she would give to at least have the deep, comforting rumble of his voice, or the way he'd held her close after the festival. Did he even know how calming his presence was? It always seemed to work on her, in wrath and anxiety both (something that Juan Mateo had never been able to affect unless it was to irritate her more). So much so that now even just focusing on it was enough to help her pull herself together.

The guest restroom was bigger than her childhood room had been and, of course, looked more like it belonged in some fancy hotel. All warm-toned marble and matte gold appliances. The mirror was huge and its frame, naturally, also gold. What was it with rich people's obsession with gold?

"Okay." Diana said to her reflection, then went to work freshening up. Carefully, she wiped away the smudged mascara under her eyes and reapplied her lipstick where it had come off on her drink earlier. She stuck her hands underneath her dress to check on the recording device, concerned that a wire had shaken loose or something, but the small rectangular container still sat right snug right against her sternum. She gave it an absent tap and adjusted the microphone bit so it sat just below the seam of her collar again.

"I hope you'll get something worthwhile from this because I am never doing this again." A knock on the door nearly sent her into cardiac arrest. Diana swore under her breath, then called out that she'd only be a moment.

"Sorry," an apologetic female voice came from the other side of the door, "You've been in there a while, is all. Are you alright? I have an aspirin in my purse if you need it."

Diana stopped dabbing at her still damp eyes and tried to determine whether her near panic attack was the sole reason her vision was still a bit hazy. She could count the times she'd been out without her glasses on one hand.

"Oh no it's just-," she crossed over and unlocked the door to find a young, very pretty and very concerned looking woman on the other side, "I just had some trouble with my contact lenses. They're awfully fiddly." She stepped back and opened the door wider. "All yours."

"Oh I don't-" She looked down the hallway, further into the house, her eyes widening slightly when she caught sight of something or someone outside of Diana's field of vision. "Actually, I think I need to...uh, powder my nose or something."

The door fell into its lock the same moment the younger woman had stepped into the room, not giving Diana a chance to leave. Not that she was over-eager to get back outside and mingle with the corrupt and criminal. That and the discomfort and anxiety hung around the other woman like a cloud. Diana made up her mind, sitting down on one of the plush benches in the room.

"I'm not a big fan of parties either." She stated, voice careful and soft. The other woman stood, unsure and tugging at the short hem of her dress.

"I wish they could just open the buffet already. My husband is three drinks in and he gets-" She trembled. No, shuddered. Diana patted the space beside her on the bench, a gentle invitation.

"It's alright, we can stay here for a little bit. I'm Diana."

"Maria." She stuck out her hand, which was also still trembling slightly. "Maria Salazar." --- By the time the two of them dared venture outside again, there was indeed, finally!, food to be had. Diana pulled Maria along to the relative safety of the gaggle of wives, busy amusing themselves while their husbands dealt with their important business matters. But then, the bandleader announced that the dancefloor was now officially open and started off with a spirited selection of the finest Colombian rhythms of the past twenty years. One by one the wives were collected to fill said dancefloor, leaving Diana sitting alone at the table with the sad remnants of various canapees and salads. Here was another occasion where she didn't miss Juan Mateo. Or his two left feet. Idly, she turned the near-empty cocktail glass between her fingers and wondered whether Javier danced, or could at least be persuaded to try.

"You don't dance?" David appeared so suddenly that she almost spilled the last bit of her drink. She remembered his leering earlier, forced her face not to flinch until she had raised the glass and could hide her expression of distaste behind a sip of the overly sweet and fruity cocktail. Hummed non-committally and hoping against hope that he'd grow bored and leave. Of course, she had no such luck.

"Oh, whom with? Everyone's paired up already." Sip again. The glass had another three or four in it, if she stretched it smartly enough. "I'm afraid third-wheeling is the unenviable fate of divorcees." How old was this boy anyway? She must have ten years on him, at the very least. But apparently he'd got it into his head that he must prove to himself what a man he was, and how irresistible. At least he had the good sense not to try anything with the wives of any of the powerful men present.

"Dance with me." David stated. Ah, bingo. He might have at least pretended to ask, she thought sourly. "I insist."

Of course you do, you entitled brat. "It would be my pleasure." She lies, as most politeness is lies, here in these circles comprised of snakes. Fakes a smile the way she's been taught to by this world, so easy to act and conceal the disdain underneath. It doesn't falter even when his hand, clammy and slightly sweaty, settles way too low for comfort or propriety on her hip. She resolves to step on his feet - accidentally - at least twice.

David Rodríguez was not what one would call a skilled dancer. At first, Diana had been thankful that the band wasn't playing any slow songs yet, but it had taken approximately half of 'Bamboleo' to dispel the hope that this would keep David's hands from wandering. Well, if she was stuck here she might as well try to get some intel out of him.

...It takes about two and a half songs - the band now switching to their international collection - to determine that this route of inquiry is absolutely doomed and David completely useless. Doesn't know any business particulars, and doesn't care to. Too distracted with trying to put some moves on her, which she steadfastly ignores. Well, if details of her failed marriage and dragging divorce aren't enough to discourage him, she's got another one up her sleeve. Not to mention she's been curious ever since the gaggle of wives had made their introductions earlier.

"You're not married." She leaves the 'yet' unsaid, hanging in the air between them as heavy insinuation.

"If I were, would I be dancing with you?" A faithful husband, and in these circles at that? What a novel idea. Diana almost snorted out loud. Left it at a telling look that seemed to go over his head completely. Doesn't have the energy to dissect how a dance with a friend or acquaintance at a party isn't exactly on par with, say, the juridical definition of adultery. Which brings her mind back to the tedium of having to explain to various lawyers, notaries, judges that no, her husband wasn't a cheating pig who drank and beat her, and that there were a multitude of quieter reasons why marriages failed.

"I have been wondering, though, where the third of the Mrs Rodríguezes belongs. Besides your mother and your aunt." She nodded over at the three women in question, one dancing with either Rodríguez brother, the third being currently twirled about by Chepe and looking a bit motion sick from it.

"My mother is dead." Ah, shit. Diana faltered, and this time the graze of her heel on his shoe really was entirely accidental. Something in David's eyes shuttered and hardened, gaze for once lifting from her body and darkly fixing on his father. "They're all my uncle's wives."

"Oh. Oh!" Diana's mouth falls open. Of all things she could have expected, this was certainly not one. "That's um... That sounds, uh..." Illegal, but then again, what did a bit of consensual polygamy matter in the grand scheme of things, she supposed.

"You sound so scandalized. Didn't think he had it in him, didn't you?" David smirked, tightening his grip on her back again and leading her in a turn.

"No, I'm just...wondering...about the, um...time management...aspect." In fairness, that was one of the things she did wonder about. David laughed, bringing her in closer.

"Each gets two days per week and Sundays he has them come all together and sit there while he watches sports."

How thrilling. "Whatever works for them, I suppose."

Diana tried to subtly twist away again. She wasn't going to get anything else from this, what with David already being bored and growing increasingly impatient. And she didn't have an escape plan that didn't consist of ramming her heel into him somewhere until she struck bone.

"Damn, can't they play something from this decade?" He whined as 'Money, money, money' faded into 'Knowing me, knowing you'. "All of this ancient stuff-" Sensing another chance to subtly nudge him away from his inexplicable sudden attraction, Diana jumped. "Oh I quite like it," she remarked lightly. Now go in for the kill "Reminds me of my youth."

David harrumphed, then grunted as her heel dug into his toes again. "Oh dear, so sorry." Diana said breezily, forcing his hand up from where it had been creeping towards her ass with a deft twirl.

"It's fine." He gritted. "Did you want to-"

"Allow me to cut in." Herrera stepped up, lightly shoving David aside to take his place. "I've not had the pleasure yet, Mrs Galindo." Diana forced a smile as his hand settled at her waist. Pro: at least this one wouldn't spend the whole time trying to feel her up. Con: not being thus distracted, he might notice...something. And become suspicious. If he wasn't already. Truth be told, Herrera scared her almost as much as Navegante did. Sometimes more so.

"Right, well this is a very tight dress, so I can't do any adventurous moves." She warned, plastering an apologetic expression onto her face. Thankfully the band had changed to a faster track, though they kept with the international flair of the selection. Next up was some Brazil, if she wasn't mistaken. David stood between the twirling couples for a long moment, glaring but not daring to do or say anything that might affront his father's business partner. She shot him a fake apologetic smile, but suspected it was more the insistent raised eyebrow from Herrera that ultimately got him to scurry.

Pacho Herrera could dance, that much was undeniable. Under different circumstances she might have even enjoyed this. He was also unnervingly quiet. If the purpose of this was to unsettle her, his tactic was very successful. At this rate, just keeping her feet under her proved to be challenge enough. One could think the band had launched into a Tarantella, given the speed they were going. Her head swam from the quick succession of turns and twirls, and when he dipped her upon the song's grand climax, her heart stopped for a variety of reasons. One of them being that she thought she felt some of her concealed wiring dislodge.

"I think your dress is not too tight after all, Mrs Galindo." He pulled back up and righted her again, blessedly stilling a moment while the band segued into a mellower number. Diana gulped in a few deep, unladylike breaths.

"No trust me, it is." She was still catching her breath; meanwhile he didn't even have a single hair out of place. Unfair. "So," Diana began her feeble attempt to bring the situation back under some semblance of control, "Are you interested in... tax exemptions?" Apparently humans could wheeze and cringe simultaneously. Very interesting. Herrera didn't answer immediately, just started leading her back into a mellow sway.

"I think you're interested enough for all of us, Mrs Galindo. Miguel showed us the figures earlier. Very impressive. I see why DIAN recruited you right out of university." How he made what was ostensibly a compliment sound like a threat, Diana didn't know, just that it did nothing for her heart rate.

"Thank you." He spun her out along with a flourish from the brass section, turning her already shaky voice into a squeak. She really hoped the recording had not picked that up. After the spin, his hand slid up over her back, before settling back on her waist. To her horror, something in Pacho's expression twisted and he pulled her closer, hand splaying over her mid-back again. So much for avoiding being fondled for one dance.

"What's this?"

"Oh, I don't want to bore you with the details of women's undergarments. Suffice to say I'm wearing an insane amount of Spanx right now."

There was a prolonged moment, during which Diana tried to keep her cool while deciding how much of a scene she was willing to cause should he not let it rest. Normally none at all, then again it was her life on the line.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Mr Rodríguez requests you make your way to the equestrian ring for the big announcement."

Never in her life had Diana welcomed an interruption like at this very moment. Herrera hesitated for a split second, expression still unreadable, before joining the throngs of people set in motion. He grasped her hand firmly, looping it through his elbow until it rested on his forearm, where he pinned it with his other hand. Just unconspicuous enough to look polite to any onlooker, just forceful enough that she knew she couldn't free herself without obvious struggle.

"He could have done this up on the other stage." Miguel grumbled when they reached him, standing off the side to the stage that had been set up in the area.

"You know how he is, Miguel. Always has to have his way." The two men exchanged a glance around her while more people filed past.

"Mrs Galindo."

Diana hummed in acknowledgement, returned the meaningless pleasantries. Yes of course she was enjoying herself. What a lovely party. The music? Exhilarating. The buffet? Exquisite. Her divorce? Ugh. She would really prefer not to think about that right now, thank you very much.

"It's next Thursday, right? Your court appointment?"

"Yes, thank you for letting me combine this with a work trip to Barranquilla. It's my personal business after all."

"Of course, we want you at your best. Undistracted. Unburdened." Diana almost laughed, barely managed to suppress the snort and cover it with clearing her throat.

"I thought that had all gone through ages ago." Herrera remarked lightly, grip finally easing up some from her wrist. Diana sighed.

"I'm divorced, as far as I'm concerned. I moved out, signed my papers. I don't know what he thinks he's doing. I'm not going back to him. This obstinate little tantrum isn't helping his case anyway." Countless hours spent arguing with various legal professionals flashed before her eyes. "It's a very tedious process."

"It's a very catholic country." Pacho said, somewhere between wistful and embittered. She used his momentary distraction to pull her arm free.

"That's true."

Up on the stage, Gilberto was fiddling with a microphone and waiting for the last few stragglers to come and fill up the equestrian ring so he could begin. Again, the two men exhanged a telling glance around her.

"You gonna go up there with him?" Pacho said lowly, hands now crossing behind his back. Miguel shook his head.

"You go. I'll stay here. Better view."

Diana stayed demonstratively rooted to the spot when Herrera started moving. He shot her a look, which she pretended not to notice in favor of striking up more mindless small talk with Miguel. Apparently Herrera decided that it wasn't worth making a big deal out of, choosing instead to let her be and weave through the audience until he reached the bottom of the stage, exchanging a greeting with Santacruz and glowering over the assembled crooks and accomplices.

Gilberto's speech was... full of pathos and grandstanding, and too many high-minded terms for such a petty crook, she thought. When did the delusions or grandeur usually start appearing, she wondered. Was it with the first million? The first billion? But it's the core of the announcement that makes her gasp and sets the wheels in her mind into overdrive, the implications just mounting up. She spares a quick glance at Herrera at the foot of the stage, his face too demonstratively blank save for furrowed brows. Miguel beside her is more expressive, but quick to reign his face back in. Among the surprised gasps and whispers all around it tells her enough. Briefly, she thought of making a comment to Miguel, but his jaw is set so tight she can hear the grinding of teeth and she doesn't have anything productive or intelligent to say anyway, so she lets it be. Swallows the bile that rises up in her throat as Gilberto proclaims 'For our children! And for our children's children!', and tries not to roll her eyes. Or gouge his out, for the sheer gall of it. Because here she stands, approaching thirty-five and still deathly afraid to bring a baby into a world they have made so violent, so toxic, so dangerous. Meanwhile Salome is without her parents, both murdered by this unending war. Meanwhile a David Rodríguez flounces around as some sort of better henchman, he and his cousins all cushy and carefree thanks to daddy's blood money. It churns the stomach with rage.

"Mrs Galindo! Just the woman I've been looking for!"

The crowd parts for him, less so out of reverence and more because people are slowly drifting away, gossip already flying about, Diana is pleased to note.

"Mr Rodríguez, what an...impactful speech." She said demurely, keeping all her sneering tucked safely away behind the mask of officiousness.

"It's the coup of the century!" She catches Miguel's scoff just in the corner of her eye. "It also means transferring our assets into the...ah, ...legitimate sphere, if you will." He's got his arm around her shoulders again, leading her back towards the dancefloor, the buffet and tables, the house. By chance and his smaller stature, he's speaking almost directly into the shoulder with the hidden microphone attached, detailing all the financial acrobatics he wants her to perform to save all their assets from both law- and taxman. There she went again, trading complicity for access. --- Just over an hour on and the gender ratio has left Diana sitting squished between Herrera and the youngest of the Mrs Rodríguezes, but at least he seems to have taken his measure of her. And swallowed her undergarment excuse. Swallowed...undergarments. She snorted semi-loudly into the cocktail she'd been nursing this whole time, the ice in it all but dissolved. Dammit, here eyes were getting heavier by the minute and it wasn't even that late, barely midnight. Then again she had been up since five and alcohol, even though she hadn't had all that much, always made her sleepy. And the guests had started trickling away, leaving behind a scene of mild devastation.

"I think Mrs Galindo needs to go home." It was Franklin Jurado speaking, Christina's head buffered on his shoulder as she slept. Diana had just enough self-control left to not tell him to fuck off. Or maybe she really is too tired to; doesn't even have it in her to get annoyed at Gilberto's patronizing tone as he agrees.

"Yes, why don't you drive Mrs Galindo home?"

She hums more in acknowledgement than agreement to Hererra's suggestion, tired eyes hazily following his line of sight to the man stepping forward from the shadows at being summoned. His gaudy shirt reminds her of one Juan Mateo had worn on their honeymoon and which she had hated half because it had been a gift from her horrible mother-in-law, and half because it was the most hideous thing she had ever seen. And then realization hits and her blood runs ice-cold and alertness slams back into her consciousness like a bullet.

"Mr Velasquez." her voice is so weak and brittle, she thinks it must give her away if nothing else did so far. She took one last sip to wet her dry mouth, and because frankly she needs the alcohol now more than ever. The suggestion to call a taxi died on her lips as she realized that there was truly no way out of this. So, she steels herself and stands on sore feet, bidding the bosses of Calí and their dependents a good night. "I would be much obliged, Mr Velasquez."

Navegante approximated a smile and stalked ahead. --- Well, there goes his progress. He'd been down to three smokes a day, four on a bad day, due in part to an iron adherence to some hard and fast self-imposed rules, such as no smoking in his office (or, in fact, no smoking inside the building at all). Tonight, however, is the night of the Calí godfathers' big announcement party, and Javier had not moved from his office for longer than a quick bathroom break or coffee run. He had also gone through half a pack of cigarettes in the last two hours, and his stomach was beginning to feel queasy the longer he spent glancing at the phone on the edge of his desk from the corner of his eye as he pretended to make his way through the mountain of paperwork that somehow never seemed to get any smaller. The fact that he'd woken that morning with the memory of Diana Turbay's lifeless body crumpled in that cupboard certainly hadn't helped.

He last looked at a clock around half past nine, when a very insistent cleaning lady had shooed him out of his office and he'd spent around ten anxious minutes hovering by the door in case the phone rang. It hadn't, and now here he was, eyes burning and brain mushy with his heartbeat a steady pulsing behind his temples. And he wondered–

Javier swiped up the phone before the first ring had even finished. "Miss Rivas!"

"I'm fine." She didn't sound fine. She sounded on edge. Rattled. Like she was trying to reassure herself. He gripped the phone receiver tighter.

"Where are you?" What was he gonna do? Drive all the way to Calí from Bogotá at half an hour past midnight? Even a flight would take hours, and raise suspisions to boot.

"I said I'm fine," she replied, nails clacking rhythmically against the plastic phone casing in what he knew by now to be a nervous tick. "I'm safe. I'm home."

Javier breathed a relieved sigh, rigid shoulders slumping a fraction. He supposed he could have ordered Duffy or Lopez to do something if push had come to shove, though what he honestly had no idea.

"Good, that's good."

"Mr Velasquez gave me a lift."

Who the hell was that? "Who the hell is that?" Javier asked.

"You probably know him as Navegante." Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. Mentally he's already halfway out the door, physically at least halfway out of the office until the phone wire makes known its spatial limitations.

"You alright? Is he still there? Lock your door, double lock it, I-"

"I didn't give him the exact address, please calm down." He does, but only enough to catch his breath and not bolt out the door. There's a rustling from her end of the line, and she makes a sort of breathless little sound, somehwere between a sigh and a grunt, followed by a low but vicious curse.

"You okay?"

"It's the damn zipper again; I'm this close to pulling something. Hang on." Judging by the thud that reverberates she set the phone down on a counter or table. Javier's hand went to rub at the back of his neck, half reflex, half sympathy. "Let's focus on the real issue here. The announcement."

The way she said it was urgent, but he chose to believe this was due to wanting to get the message out and not to any concerns of Navegante lurking nearby. He had to, for his own sanity.

"Apparently Gilberto cut a deal with the government."

"The government?" Javier echoed weakly.

"The new Samper administration. I knew why I didn't vote for those clowns. No, that's ...I had many reasons for that actually, first and foremost of them being that the Liberal Party nowadays is a damn joke. And to think that this is the same party that my parents fought for in their youth! Anyway, enough of that. They get half a year to get their house in order, then turn themselves in on the smallest possible charges, minimal jail time, back out again after a few years and back into their cushy lives with all of their blood money laundered neatly away. A clean slate." He'd never heard her sound so bitter, and he'd heard a good deal of her opinions on the Gentlemen of Calí over the past year.

"So they're just going to get away with it." Javier grit out, equally livid. "Wait, you said Gilberto cut the deal? What about the others?"

"Yes, so here is where it gets interesting. I didn't get the sense that they knew. Beforehand I mean. You should have outfitted me with a camera too, because Miguel's face was priceless." Another grunt and then a triumphant little 'ha' and then her voice sounded clearer again, nearer as she picked the phone back up.

"He doesn't like it."

"None of them like it. Don't want to give up the power, if I had to guess. What is it with men and building their entire ego on how much they can make others fear them?"

Javier hummed non-committally, deciding that he had nothing valuable to add at this point.

"Yeah, you're right. So how do I get the 'ooof' ...the recording to you? Usual way?" Javier didn't even get to reply no when she went on, now audibly shuffling around her apartment and out of the rest of her clothes. "I can't believe I almost forgot! I met the money launderer. His name is Franklin Jurado. He'll be in Calí until Tuesday with his wife Christina. I somewhat promised her to meet for coffee on Sunday; if you can have one of your agents trail me you can get them."

She sounded so hopeful that he hated to have to dash it, even for her own safety, but snatching such an important cartel member so soon and with her so close would cast suspicion. She couldn't be involved. And he hadn't heard back from his agents yet, which was possibly a bad sign. Javier made up his mind, cringing while he glanced at the clock to make some mental calculations.

"I'm coming over."

"To Calí?"

"Yes, what's your address? Unless you'd rather meet somewhere else?"

She gave her address, sounding stunned. He jotted it down under the note he'd made of Jurado's name; he'd need someone to look the guy up first thing tomorrow.

"You're not leaving now, are you? It's late, you need to sleep." Javier could picture the way her brow creased in a frown just from the tone of her voice.

"No, I'll call you again as soon as I know when I'll be there." Driving the whole way would be a nightmare and eat up most of the day. Javier whirled around and pulled an atlas from the shelf behind his desk. Flying in directly was out of the question with the way the godfathers had the whole city under surveillance. Buenaventura, under two hours by plane and then about two and a half from there to Calí. Yes, that would work.

"Goodness, you're actually serious about this."

"Of course." Javier stopped in his tracks for the first time in several minutes now, taking a moment to breathe and slump in his seat. He was exhausted yet wide awake, and likely would be for some time. "I mean, if that's okay with you."

"Of course, umm...anything in particular you'd like for dinner?" Javier stopped. He would be staying for dinner, possibly the night, too. In a hotel of course, he couldn't possibly impose-

"You don't have to cook for me." His mouth said, but his stomach said bandeja paisa. Briefly, the thought of taking her out for dinner popped up, indulgent and unbidden, and was immediately squashed by the thought of the godfathers' eyes everywhere. "I can pick something up on the way."

Her protest turned into a yawn not two syllables in. Javier couldn't help the small smile appearing on his face, felt it only by how it twinged his tense jaw. "You're tired, you should rest."

"We're not finished with this." She mumbled obstinately. "You rest."

"I will." He would, eventually. "I'll call you tomor- ...today." A quick glance at the clock revealed it was now past midnight. She made a very grumpy, very adorable huffy sound, mumbling something about the inexorable passage of time.

"Sleep well, Miss Rivas."

"You too..." There was a rustle and the quiet squeak and groan of a bedframe and mattress. He waited a moment, unsure whether more was coming or whether she'd just been too tired to disconnect the call. A short silence burst into a quick curse, her voice remote but still clear enough to make out. "...God fucking dammit, fucking contact lenses! Son of a rabid-"

"Miss Rivas?" By the rapid padding of feet and the continued cursing he had to suppose that she hadn't heard, and by how either sound seemed to be at about equal distance with neither decreasing, he supposed further that the phone was still in her hand. As soon as he heard the 'thunk' that most likely meant that the phone had been tossed down on some surface, he tried again. "Miss Rivas?"

"You're still there?" She sounded marginally more awake now, but not like this state would persist for very long.

"You didn't hang up." And perhaps Javier wasn't all too opposed to having the continued assurance that she was alright and her cover intact. "You swear very entertainingly, by the way."

"I'm glad my lack of filter and ladylike decorum amuses rather than appalls you." Splashing water interrupted them for a moment, but was quickly replaced by more colorful cursing.

"Please, don't hold back." Javier commented drily, not really expecting to be heard clearly since the satphone didn't have a loudspeaker.

"Very funny. Why don't you talk to me a bit more while I try not to poke my eyes out by accident-"

"I- ...I'm afraid I don't really have anything interesting to talk about."

"And I don't have enough brain left today for anything more taxing than the weather anyway. I just need your voice; I'm dead on my feet. How was the weather in Bogotá today? I always found it so cold when I was at university there. Nothing like Medellín. They used to call me 'chompa' at uni because I would never go anywhere without one. Too cold. And of course Calí is so much warmer than either..."

"It's been quite grey here, and not especially warm either. Back home it's at least twice as warm but I've been here so long now I think I'm more used to it."

"I never asked where exactly you're from..."

"Laredo, Texas. It's right on the border with Mexico."

"Laredo..." She mused, puttering about still. "Oh like the song? As I walked walked out on the streets of Laredo..." She must really be tired and devoid of all usual inhibitions, Javier thought, to just start singing like this. Not that he minded. She got halfway through the first stanza until she faltered, the lyrics escaping her. Her voice was soft and with that same raspy edge she had when speaking. It was a voice suited best to lullabies he thought; or to yearnful ballads performed in smoky bars, or some similarly wistful thing. "Aren't I supposed to be the one talking?"

"Hmm, this works too. I'm almost done, so you won't have to humor me much longer. So, tell me more about Laredo while I brush my teeth." --- He ended up talking longer than that - divulging more than he ever planned to as per usual, of the town and the ranch that sat up against the river - until she was settled back into bed and about to doze off for good. If nothing else, it settled him too somewhat, though sleep would elude him for a a good while yet even despite the physical and mental exhaustion the day, or in fact the whole week, had brought him. No sooner had he disconnected the line with a soft 'Sleep well' than the phone rang again.

"Yes?"

"Boss, I've been trying to reach you for half an hour!" Duffy's voice sounded strained and any modicum of relaxation Javier might have gained dissipated with immediate effect. He scrubbed a hand over his burning eyes and resigned himself to dealing with one more catastrophe.

"Duffy, what is it?" Agents Duffy and Lopez had organized their own infiltration of the godfathers' party, courtesy of the intel provided by Miss Rivas as well as what Operation Cornerstone had shaken loose. At least he knew it was nothing that had blown the cover of his informant.

"Okay well, no use beating around the bush here. Our guy got made, and Calí knows we're here-" Javier listened to his agent's report with his frown deepening. Why was it that with every step forward, another wrench was thrown his way?

"Alright, close up shop. Leave as soon and as inconspicuously as you can. I'll see you back here at the embassy on Monday morning." He ordered. Hopefully the gentlemen and their security would leave it at the gesture of intimidation, especially if they thought themselves well on the way of becoming untouchable, but one could never be too careful.

---

Javier consulted the clock for what must have been the hundredth time that evening. Normally the bar down the street from the embassy wouldn't be his first or even fourth choice, but tonight he was looking for a place to wind down with the shortest possible distance to cover afterwards. The danger of being accosted by any of his co-workers was one he'd simply have to brave. If luck was on his side for once, none of the more sociably inclined would be there any more, or too engrossed in their own merriment to notice him slink in, and if not, his curmudgeonly ways were known well enough that a civil yet decisive refusal would hopefully be deterrence enough.

It was for Stoddard, but of course not for Bill Stechner, the non-drug-lord bane of Javier's existence. Ostensibly on the same side, though Javier would argue that the CIA was on its own side entirely. Or that their budget would be spent more productively by making the damn lot of them just feed dollar bills through a shredder, but no one asked Javier about these things. So, he sits and grinds his teeth while Stechner's smug voice grates on his nerves. Visualizes strangling the CIA station shief with the tie he'd just pulled off and balled up into his pocket moments ago, which does a little bit to alleviate the almost overbearing urge to smash Stechner's face into the bar top. "Oh come on, you don't care about American streets or dead Colombians."

And the deal? How the hell does Stechner know about the deal when it's only just been announced? For a split-second, he wonders whether Diana- but no, he trusts her completely, and he hasn't told anyone except a handful of his agents about her, deciding this information was so sensitive it was strictly need to know, and even they only knew her by her assigned code name. Not even the ambassador knew that he had such a high-priority informant on the inside of the cartel. Stechner must have some government source, be it an informant of his own or bugs in the offices of ministers. The way he only mentions Lopez and Duffy's operation confirms it.

"Same goal my ass." Javier muttered into his whiskey after Stechner slithered away. This had been supposed to be a one-drink-night, but now he was feeling like he might need at least three more, if only to dull the screeching of his swirling thoughts.

It's no use. He's all keyed up still, something feels like it's burrowing inside of his chest, some sort of woodland critter both desperate and unable to settle down. He's tired, too, of course, eyes heavy and burning and sore, feels like his eyeballs are coated in smoke and pitched open by caffeine. He shouldn't have had that much coffee that late; despite his high tolerance it does still have an effect on him. Thank goodness on any given day, but right now he's regretting it. His leg jumps, knee knocking painfully against the bar front. He feels eyes on him. They've been there since he walked in, furtively glancing throughout his confrontation with Stechner, but bolder now. He feels it like a prickle on his skin. Turns his gaze finally. Sees long dark hair, open, melting into the late shadows of the bar. Too long, but it'll have to do. She's... he's definitely seen her around before. The elevator? Different department, perhaps press office, or visas. Definitely nowhere near the DEA offices or he would have known her name. She's coming over now, leaning easily against the bartop, slender fingers tapping, and an easy, eager smile. Her hair isn't dark enough, and too long and wavy all the way through instead of only curling at the ends, and nothing else about her appearance quite matches up, but she's pretty and willing and he's pent up and about to crawl out of his skin. And so he lets her take him home. And he means to leave right after, he really does. If only not to give any impression of this having even the slightest potential of becoming any more than it is. But Katie (that's her name, but he's learnt a long time ago to not groan out names during, because whether the name is correct or not it always turns out bad somehow), Katie sleepily mumbles that he can stay because it's late, and truth be told? He's completely shot, feels like he couldn't move if he wanted to. And the thought of dragging himself back to his empty apartment with only his thoughts for company is the most unbearable thing at this moment. Her mattress is too soft and despite the fact that he only laid on it until waking again at first light, it messes up his back for almost a week. --- It is indeed much warmer in this side of the country, and an especially hot day in Calí itself. On the coast where he'd landed, there had at least been a breeze blowing in from the Pacific, but the further inland Javier drives the less the air seems to move. He felt the sweat start to gather at his hairline, and down his neck, as soon as he parked the rental car in front of the cluster of new-ish high rise apartment blocks in one of the north-western boroughs of the city.

Javier grabbed his one piece of luggage and the bag of takeout he'd picked up on the way, just as promised, and walked up to the first building to study the panel beside the door for the correct bell to ring. A sharp whistle made him look around, then up at the next building. Miss Rivas was all but hanging off the side of her balcony, waving down and giving Javier half a heart attack seeing as she was on the sixth floor. He waved back in acknowledgement, then jogged over to the already buzzing door, which he pushed open. Blessedly, there was an elevator, and not two minutes later he stood in front of her apartment, the door swinging open before he could raise his hand to knock.

"Hi." She sounded breathless, as if she'd run up six flights of stairs, not across an apartment.

"... Miss Rivas." In his relief, he'd almost slipped. Almost called her by her first name, but they're not there yet, strangely. Or not strangely at all, in fact. It's quite by design. It's a way of keeping himself detached; professional. Or whatever excuse he could come up with to maintain this state of perpetual denial.

"Umm, ...lunch? I brought lunch." He thrust the bag foward, watched it swing between them while cringing inwardly.

"Good! I've only been up for two hours or so; I don't even care what it is, I'm starving!" Carefully, she took the bag from him, one hand supporting the bottom like a newborn's head, the other brushing his as she looped her fingers through the handles. "Come in, come in."

Javier stood a full three seconds or so after she'd already turned around and walked down the narrow hallway, rooted to the spot and struck dumb like some sort of imbecile. His skin prickled in all the places he'd let Katie touch him the night before, which, admittedly, hadn't been too many - but still enough to be burning him with that familiar mixture of guilt and shame now. So he does what he does best when it comes to emotions: deny and repress.

He left his shoes beside the pair of strappy heels she must have discarded there the night before, probably in a hurry to get the severely uncomfortable looking things off after spending a whole evening in them. The hallway opened into an open living room and dining area, the balcony beyond that, and a galley-style kitchen off to one side not unlike his own apartment. It was a sparse place, not quite enough furniture to fill the space - a long couch and coffee table, a low sideboard with a TV on it, none of it new save for the stereo system that was of course on and softly playing the usual eclectic music mix. Javier dropped his bag beside the couch where it would be out of the way. The dining table barely deserved the name. It was a small, round, reedy looking thing, just large enough for two, or maybe two and a child, with two plastic fold-out chairs. On it stood a light blue and white ceramic fruit bowl that currently held zero fruit, just the recording device he'd given her and... some pieces of golden sapphire and diamond jewelry? Puzzled, Javier picked up what turned out to be a bracelet. He raised one eyebrow at her as she set down plates for them.

"Got a raise?"

"Ha! As if. I should have, though. What with the extra work I got saddled with last night. That's the problem with rich people. Miserly. The more zeroes on their bank statements the stingier they get." She scoffed, ranting away all the way to and fro carrying the cutlery. "No, this-" she stabbed a spoonhandle through the bracelet and swirled it around once, twice, before glowering at the gemstones darkly, "This is what Mrs Jurado had me borrow to complete my outfit yesterday. Obviously I have to return them, which is why I'm meeting her for coffee tomorrow afternoon. If you do your whole government agent covert spy observation thing you could at least get eyes on her, maybe even him, too. Franklin Jurado, the money launderer. You can just smell the entitlement on him. I bet he went to one of the really fancy schools over there, like Princeton. Or maybe Harvard."

"I'm glad to see you're making friends." Javier had followed her to the kitchen, leaning against a cabinet and watching her place the food on plates, any attempts to help or make himself useful deftly rebuffed as always.

"I think it was Harvard actually. I think he mentioned it- It's on the recording, in any case. Real smug about it too. La Javeriana is a perfectly good university, too. Older, too. Luis Carlos Galán attended it, you know? Graduated in economics and law, like I did."

"Like the new president, too." Javier dared remark, only to be leveled with a death glare that could make a man fear for his life.

"Professor Samper, oh yes," she said pointedly, thrusting the plates at him, "Don't remind me please. The whole family attended, have for generations."

Javier dutifully carried over the dishes and set them down, returning a moment later for the pitcher of water. Diana followed him, wiping her glasses with her tee-shirt in a gesture he had come to know was more about calming down than it was about being able to see better.

"Right, no politics at meal time. Tell me something interesting instead." Diana attacked her food with a frightening kind of fervor. And suddenly the only thing he could think about was what Stechner had told him the night before, how the deal would go ahead, a neat little setup by politicians whose only objective was looking good enough for re-election. Naturally, the words died in his throat. He shrugged and started digging in.

"Nothing huh? Okay, well, how about this then: How many Mrs Rodríguezes are there?"

"Is this a trick question?" There should be one only, seeing as Miguel was widowed and his little shit of a son wasn't exactly husband material - nor looking to be. "One?"

"Close. There's three."

That didn't make any sense. "That doesn't make any sense. Miguel is widowed and David- ...Gilberto! Gilberto?"

"Gilberto." She confirmed. "All three. They have a rota, apparently. On Sundays they just sit around while he watches whatever game is on which sounds thrilling. And I thought my marriage was crap."

"Huh." If Javier thought that the farcical nature of governmental - and inter-governmental - bureaucracy had prepared him for the absurdity of chasing drug kingpins he had apparently been sorely mistaken. But mostly, he was relieved to see that Diana was in such good spirits again, what with how affected she'd sounded the night before. Lunch was over in no time at all, and Javier felt his short night starting to catch up with him. He yawned surreptitiously as he helped carry the dirty dishes back into the kitchen, or what he thought had been surreptitious anyway.

"Okay, coffee or nap?"

"Huh?" Dammit, his eyes were burning. Diana took the plates and deposited them in the sink, leaving him to blink sluggishly. "I can do those. The dishes."

"You're about to keel over. Haven't slept a wink, have you?"

"About three hours, and another half hour or so on the plane. I'm fine, really." He admitted. The fact that he had to lean against the cabinets did not exactly serve to strengthen his argument. Diana tutted.

"I need to run some errands, grocery shopping and the like. If you are really determined to get to work on the recording I'll make you a good strong coffee before I go, but I would personally suggest you use the time to catch up on some sleep. The couch pulls out."

It was tempting, it really was, but Javier also knew that he'd have a harder time falling asleep later if he messed up his rhythm more now.

"Coffee it is, then." She set to work in the same breath.

A fond smile pulled at Javier's lips. "Thank you." --- Even knowing she was fine and safe now, she hadn't expected that listening to the recording would be so excruciatingly stressful. She had very helpfully compiled a list of encounters, along with time estimates (and a very evocative caricature of the chief accountant, Guillermo Pallomari), which had allowed him to fast forward through the recording to get a general overview. Even so, he'd gotten stuck on several bits, even replaying a few. The introductory round, for one. Her panic attack in the bathroom. Or the segment with that slimy little bastard David Rodríguez. Her quick thinking and clever diversion of Pacho's suspicions. He hated hearing the strain in her voice, the barely masked anxiousness that none of them even seemed to notice but that stood out to him so very clearly. His jaw was clenched so tight he could feel his teeth grinding– The lock on the front door clicked open, jolting Javier from his focused state. A quick glance at his watch told him it had been well over three hours since she'd left for her errands, afternoon now melting into early evening. In his haste to get up he tangled the wires, cursing as he he sat back down. Diana huffed into view, heavy-looking bags on each arm.

"Hey there," she threw him a quick smile before vanishing into the kitchen to set down her load, re-emerging a heartbeat later. She crossed the distance in a few strides, lightly squeezing his shoulder as she leaned over him to peer at the notes he'd taken. "How's it going? Anything viable?"

Her touch, given with such casual affection, electrified him. He'd never been, never considered himself the type of person anyone would come home to.

"Plenty." He needed to collect himself, clear his throat and mind and get a grip. "You did amazing work." And I can't use it in court because you incriminate yourself all throughout.

"Good, I'm glad. Would have been a re-"

The shrill ringing of her landline interrupted them. Immediately, Javier mourned the loss of her touch, the spot on his shoulder where her hand had lingered now turning cold. Pull yourself together, dammit!

The telephone was mounted on the wall that separated hallway and kitchen, and had a cord long enough to allow for a range of movement to about halfway into the latter. Unsure of whether he was supposed to be listening, he tried to go back to the recording. Only tried rather turned into pretended. As quickly as he had put the headphones on, he took them off again, watching Diana for a moment of hesitation. She was shuffling around the kitchen entrance, emptying her shopping bags with the phone receiver pinned between her cheek and shoulder. She was talking to her aunt, tense and worried, but managed a small smile when she caught Javier's eye. Wordlessly, he started helping her putting the groceries away as directed.

"No, I know you don't approve. No one approves except Gabriela, and incidentally Gabriela is also the only one who saw that I was making a mistake right from the start and the only one who tried to dissuade me from going through with the wedding, and if I'd only listened to her and my gut back then, I wouldn't-" She turned her back at this, and Javier put away the last few pieces and left the kitchen, giving her the pretense of privacy at least. It wasn't like the apartment was so vast that her voice wouldn't carry. He walked over to the stereo system he'd turned off earlier and switched it back on, fiddling with the volume by way of looking distracted.

"...No, and I don't want to talk about it any more. I don't care what the Pope says; the Pope was never married! ...Yes, put her on; I think that's better for everyone involved."

Immediately her voice and stance relaxed, became softer and warmer, and the conversation a lot more one-sided as Diana talked to Salome on the phone. Javier's knees were starting to protest at his half-kneeling by the sideboard, but he was too transfixed by trying to determine whether the little girl would perhaps say a few words today. She sometimes did, though very rarely, and Javier had yet to witness it himself.

"Okay, my little darling, you be good for granny, alright? Sleep well, sweetheart. I love you. Bye-bye."

Diana hung up and shuffled over, taking a seat on he edge of the coffee table closest to him. Javier gave up on the volume dial and turned towards her.

"Everything okay?" She nodded and took off her glasses to rub at her eyes. Cautiously, Javier placed his hand atop hers where it laid in her lap, rubbing his thumb back and forth across the top of it soothingly. "And are you okay?"

"I will be; I just- ...I try that she at least hears my voice every day, even if I can't be there and- She's so little and has already lost so much, and every time I have to leave I feel like I'm just making it worse and like maybe that's why she still barely talks. And it's so unfair! She's just a little girl and she needs her mother or at least she needs a mother and we try - my aunt and I try our best but we're all that's left of this family." Her voice got quieter with each word, fading to a whisper before ceasing. Javier didn't know how to respond; all the obvious things seemed like meaningless phrases, frivolous and unhelpful. Diana deflated, her whole frame drooping like misery personified. She let out a single, quiet sob, gripping his hand in both of hers like he was her anchor. "I just wish I at least knew what I was doing."

She wiped at her eyes angrily, blindly grasping for the glasses on the table behind her until she found them and shoved them back on. She stood abruptly, but did not let go of his hand, instead tugging him up, to which his beleaguered knees only objected more.

"Sorry, forget that. Let's sort out dinner." She stalked back into the kitchen, and Javier could only follow of creaky knees, the blood rushing back down into his feet and making them prickle and almost falter. She finally let go of his hand in front of the refridgerator, throwing open the door of it like a shield between them.

"So for dinner I was thinking-"

"Miss Rivas." She didn't even hear him, just went on explaining what was possible with the ingredients she'd picked up earlier. Javier laid his hand on top of hers gently, feeling the tension in her fingers, the tremble in them as she gripped the fridge door tight. Gently still, he eased her grip and shut the door. She didn't even look at him, obstinately staring down at the tiled floor instead.

"I'm in control of my emotions." She declared defiantly. "I'm not a liability to your investigation."

"I know." Javier took both her hands in his now, squeezed them once, still gentle. Kept his voice soft too; soft and low and for her ears only. "I know you ...aren't. It's okay. You're doing so good. You're doing amazing. It's okay." On the last few words, he raised their entwined hands, nudging her chin up to look at him. Took in her reddened but stubbornly dry eyes, her lips pressed into a painful line, and the hard set of her jaw and brows. All she needed was one final push to let go, one word of permission, and he gave it gladly. "It's okay."

He'd expected an outburst now, an explosive outpouring of grief or at least wrath. Instead, Diana squeezed his hands back once before letting go, leaving him standing in the kitchen while she went into her bedroom. He heard her rummage around for a moment, then she returned with a small photo album in her hands which she carefully set down on the counter before throwing it open and flipping through the pages until she found the picture she was looking for. It showed what he assumed was her family. He recognized only her and Maritza, both noticeably younger then. Side by side, the family resemblance became more apparent, especially in comparison with the respective parents. Wordlessly, she flipped through the pages. In the next one Maritza's father was missing, the one after that, her own father was no longer there. The one after that showed the addition of a young man and what must have been a newborn Salome, him holding the baby with a broad, dimpled smile that his daughter had inherited. He was gone in the following picture, Diana's mother vanished in the one after that, until the last photograph showed only Maritza's mother, Diana herself, and little Salome.

"Some time after we cleared out Maritza's apartment, I went to Escobar's grave. If I was looking for some kind of satisfaction, I didn't find it there." She closed the album with a sharp snap. "The whole drive back, last night, I was sure I was about to end up fish fodder, and I just thought... with how my aunt's health is failing, will Salome be all alone in the world before she's even five?"

Javier swallowed hard, choking on the words that had sprung up onto the tip of his tongue. That he wouldn't let that happen (but it could have happened not twenty-four hours prior and there would have been nothing he could have done about it). That he would make sure the little girl was taken care of (How? He wasn't kin and Diana's aunt didn't know him. And he wasn't exactly prime fatherhood material, so what exactly did he think he could do?). And in the back of his head, he still heard the desperate shallow little breaths she'd heaved during her panic attack. So different words jumped onto his tongue instead, tumbling out before he could ever think through the implications.

"Do you want out? You don't even have to go meet Mrs Jurado tomorrow, I can organize to have you pulled out within the week. And your family too. You'd be safe." 'I am never doing this again', she'd said. Well, he wouldn't make her. And considering what he knew now, that his whole investigation was just a front? What was the damn point of it anyway?

Diana smiled, just a slight quirk of the corner of her lip, but the first in what felt like hours now. "Now? No. I don't want anyone else having to go through what my family and I went through, here or anywhere. This kind of...lust for power - it's grasping. It never stops, it is never satisfied. And it doesn't care what stands in its way."

"You sure?" He ought to tell her, he really ...but even though the betrayal isn't his, just his to hand on, he hesitates again.

"I am. Starting with meeting Christina Jurado tomorrow. Besides, you'll be with me all the way through."

"Yeah," his voice creaks like a rusty hinge, "Yeah, of course I'll be. Just a stone's throw away." --- "Goodness, does she ever shut up?" Javier shut the door behind himself, hanging up the spare key on the hook by the door. They'd just returned from Diana and Mrs Jurado's coffee and lunch date - separately for safety purposes - and Javier's head was still swimming. Diana might be reasonably called talkative, but at least she had things to say. Christina Jurado, it turned out, could talk a mile a minute without saying much of substance at all. Diana had been all but steam-rollered by the barrage of conversation and Javier, who had listened closely to all two and a half hours of it, was starting to feel the beginnings of a pressure headache building.

"Without being condescending, Agent Peña, there is so much that men don't understand about the way women talk with each other." Diana peeked out into the hallway with a raised eyebrow. "Besides, she may well have been... uuh-"

"May have been what?" After discarding his shoes, he walked into the apartment fully. Diana frowned, then touched a fingertip to the side of her nose with a meaningful look. When he didn't light up with sudden understanding, she gave a good-natured yet long-suffering sigh. And Javier really thinks he should probably have slept more than four hours, but his back was now paying the price for his stint on that marshmallow fluff that passed for Katie's mattress, and also his mind liked to give him trouble when it ought to quiet down.

"She may have been what, Miss Rivas?"

"Mrs Jurado, I have good reason to believe, likes to uhh... sample the product." The penny rolled around Javier's exhausted mind a moment longer before dropping.

"...You mean to tell me she was high on cocaine the whole time?"

"Yes. Why are you whispering?" Why indeed. Javier cleared his throat and wondered why this revelation left him so scandalized. "She did use on Friday night, too, which is a frequency I honestly find alarming. I hope it's more of a weekend thing- Franklin knows, but I don't think he has any idea what to do about it. I'd reckon it's something they're both keen to keep under wraps, though for different reasons. I don't imagine the gentlemen would be overly thrilled, especially the brothers. They like to keep a pretty tight hold on everything even remotely to do with the business."

"Huh... what the hell are you do-" While he had been musing on this new development in his sluggish mind, she'd stuck one hand down her blouse from the top and the other up it from the bottom, fumbling around for a moment before pulling the wiretap she'd been wearing for the meeting out and handing it to him non-chalantly.

"When's your flight?"

"Uh, late. Later. Ten-ish." He'd be back in Bogotá before midnight, but there was the drive back to Buenaventura to consider. Even so, it was only mid-afternoon now. Javier rubbed his hand over his burning eyes. His brain was no longer in a state to be doing that kind of math and he sighed, the coffee he'd just had clearly not doing anything.

"You have at least an hour to get some sleep. Come lie down." She was out from in front of him and across the room before he could blink tiredly, already pushing back the coffee table and bending to pull out the couch. Javier meant to protest, he really did. But. Sleep beckoned. And so, with heavy feet dragging across the laminate floor, he acquiesced.

"Thanks." He mumbled, gratefully receiving a pillow.

"I'll wake you in an hour, hour and a half tops." She already sounded further away than she should be, considering she was by the sofa-bed's - and his - head still. Javier hummed a reply, more affirmative sound than any proper words. As he drifted off, he thought he felt gentle fingers brushing the hair back from his forehead. But surely that was just wishful thinking, for what else could it be? ---

So, six more months of looking busy and doing nothing while the Calí godfathers revved up operations to squeeze as much money as they could out. He'd had to send his agents home after they'd been splashed all over the front page of the Espectador, so not only did the DEA not currently have any presence on the ground in Calí, it also left Diana without even the faintest layer of protection. And with the massive stink the Colombians, fronted by General Vargas, had kicked up about it, he couldn't send in any replacements, no matter how eager or indeed fastidious Agent Feistl was. And now the incident in Yumbo. The youngest of the dead had only been six years old. Javier glowered at the TV report where the safety inspector was giving his final report. Natural gas leak... yeah, sure. This thing reeked; he felt it in his bones that the cartel was responsible somehow. And he couldn't go after them. The desire to go find Stechner and smash his stupid smug face through the screen became near unbearable. He turned the TV off before the urge manifested into action.

He sat down behind his desk, taking a moment to look around the largely dark and empty office space around him before opening that particular drawer on the top right and taking out the arrest warrants. Their money and power and the influence both bought meant that the Calí bosses could move comparatively freely, but they still hid away. Carefully so, with the kind of tight-knit security that most heads of state could only dream of. Even if he did find a way to get at them, his hands were now unofficially bound. Well over a year's work, two good agents sent home, his informant risking her life every single day, more innocent dead who would never get justice, and what for? He hated it. He still hadn't told her. He thought about quitting.

The phone rang. He knew it was her. She didn't even try his home landline first now, knowing he spent his evenings at the office more often than not. Javier let it ring once more while mustering up the courage to come clean.

"Miss Rivas, good evening."

"Decidedly not. Did you watch the news?"

Javier scrubbed a hand over his face, squeezed his eyes shut so as to not have to look at the warrants spread out on his desk. There was only so much mockery a man could take. "Yeah. Yeah, I did."

"It was them. David specifically, that self-absorbed buffoon. They chewed him out for over half an hour over it, which is far less than he deserves."

"I figured." His throat felt tight; undoing another shirt button did precisely nothing.

"Gilberto worries it will give the government leverage to go back on the deal. I hope it does."

So did Javier, but knowing the special interests being at play here he didn't hold out much hope.

"And you have been made to recall your agents from Calí."

Javier gulped. "Yes."

"But they'll be replaced, right?"

Well, here goes nothing then. "...No."

Silence. She's not one to raise her voice even when upset and right now she must be livid. But perhaps she's shocked before anything else. Shocked into silence, into disbelief. He hates this, too. He wishes she would scream at him. Instead all he gets is a brittle quiet little '...What?'

And it's so unfair, all of it. Stechner doesn't have to face her with this, the bastard. None of the politicians who are oh so invested in this little vanity project do either, the consequences aren't real to them. They get to collect the empty symbol of a supposedly bloodless surrender, some good publicity, and don't have to do or face any of the ugly truths on the ground. He thinks about quitting again. Pats his pocket for the reporter's business card. If he's leaving, he thinks, he'd do it with a bang. Burn all bridges with a mighty barrage of his personal J'accuse. But for now that's all idle thinking.

"The surrender deal is going ahead as planned, because the powers that be will it so." He explained, truly understanding the sentiment of shooting the messenger at this very moment. "My hands are bound, there's nothing I can do."

"Bullshit!" Yeah, agreed. He tries saying more, justifications that turn to dust on his tongue before the words even leave his mouth. His heart's not in it, and it only serves to stoke her wrath, fearsome even over the distance of the phone line.

"What else will they get away with? If you're rich enough you can buy impunity? A blank cheque for murder? How many more people must die? Every day I go in and make myself complicit in it all on the promise that it will take them down!"

The worst part of this, perhaps, is that he knows she's right. If any of those senators in their cushy Washington offices had even a bit of her bravery, her steadfastness, her moral clarity–

"I'm sorry." His mouth is so dry. At last he opens his eyes again, glaring down at the warrants. Gilberto Rodríguez Orejuela. Miguel Rodríguez Orejuela.

"You're sorry?" Even now her voice is still level. Full of venomous disbelief and cold with rage, yes, but it has not risen even a single decibel.

"Miss Rivas, I-"

The line went dead with a click. She'd hung up.

--- --- ---

author’s notes:

*me, an idiot* this chapter will cover episodes 1 through to 4. this is a thing that is feasible and realistic

*me, 7000 words in and still at the party* ah. oh no.

in other words: remember last chapter when I cut things off because I wanted to keep it below 10k? yeah, that won’t be happening anymore. It takes as long as it takes. *shrug emoji* stay hydrated.

DIAN (Dirección de Impuestos y Aduanas Nacionales) is the Colombian government agency that is responsible for collecting taxes

Fernando Botero is a Colombian artist and sculptor, famous for these really chunky bronze statues, though the one I reference here is a complete fabrication and does not actually exist

according to the Art and Making of Narcos book Navegante’s actual name is Jorge Velasquez

‘chompa’ according to the dictionary I used, is a term for jacket used in Colombia and some other places

yes I looked up average temperatures in all these cities. I have concluded that it gets hot af in Laredo

La Javeriana (Pontificia Universidad Javeriana) is one of the oldest and most prestigious universities in Colombia. Presidential candidate Carlos Luis Galan did indeed attend there, as did president Ernesto Samper, who is president during the season in the show. He also did indeed teach there for a while in the early 80s, which fortunately matches up with my timeline. It was indeed founded before Harvard. Thirteen years before to be exact (1623 vs 1636)

here’s the drawing Diana made of Pallomari (contador=accountant):

tag list: @keeper0fthestars @opheliaelysia @fromthedeskoftheraven @dindjarindiaries @shikin83 @cinewhore @maddoggrahaml @javier-djarin @huliabitch @heatherbel @shestillwrites1

didn’t ask to be tagged but reblogged all previous parts and therefore I assume you enjoyed it regardless of that you reading my story made me very happy list: @asoftcollection (thank you for indulging me and brainstorming the Jurados with me it helped a lot) @holographic-carmen @dermandalorianer @oldstuffnewstuff (sry it won’t let me tag ur sideblog hope this is okay)

Next Chapter

#narcos (tv)#narcos #narcos fanfic #javier pena x ofc #series #I cling to your lips like gloss (series)#like gloss tag #multipart #javier peña #javier peña fanfic #my writing #part 4

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beldroxramscal · 4 years ago

Text

Sway ~ Part 3

Javier Pena x female!OC

Word count: 3.493

Summary: After their training Javier meets Natalia In a very unexpected place and things het a little heated.

Warnings: language, badly written stripteas (2x), mentions of guns, slightly drunk Javi

A/N: I wanna thank @pedrocentric for being the absolute best and a great cheerleder :D

English is not my first language and I have no one to beta for me. That is just a very long way to say: sorry, my English sucks.

Part 1//Part 2//

They met at least once a week for a month, and they didn’t talk much during the sessions. Mostly because of the headsets, but she also seemed less talkative. He didn’t know if it was because of the night in her kitchen, or it was something else completely, but he was glad she was putting some distance between them.

He himself almost didn’t call her back. There was just something about her that felt like trouble, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to find out what the trouble would turn out to be. Then again, he was a grown ass man with some common sense. He knew he was on thin ice, but he would just have to tiptoe his way along the shallow ends.

It was much easier than he expected. She was not trying to find out anything about him. One time she asked him about growing up in Texas, and he thought that’s where he’d have to hit the brakes, but after he told her some general information about his childhood in the US, she didn’t ask any follow up questions.

Despite the lack of talking, they got comfortable around each other. He wasn’t sure when it happened, but somewhere between him showing her a proper grip on a gun and adjusting her stance when she couldn’t hit what she wanted, he stopped second-guessing himself every time he had to touch her.

After the third time, she even started bringing him coffee. He mentioned how much he liked the coffee she made him that one time and the next time he saw her, she silently handed him a big bright blue cup. She obviously didn’t want it to be a big deal, so he said his thank yous and didn’t mention it again, but he learned not to have his late night work coffees every time they were scheduled to meet.

Point being, the last session couldn’t come soon enough.

“You know, Pena,” she said and turned down the car radio, so he could hear her. “I had fun with you.”

It was an innocent enough statement, but it sounded like she was genuinely surprised to have a good time with him around. And there he was, thinking that despite the teasing and overall unfortunate circumstances of their meeting, she enjoyed his company.

What he didn’t expect, was the sudden void of calmness in his life. Which was ironic, because she was anything but. The thing was, neither of them outright said their goodbyes, but he knew, after she called him about her successful test, that was the end between them. And it’s what he wanted. After all, there was no beginning to anything, but, for some reason, he thought it would be harder to get her out of his life, that even if she was not interested in it, she’d wanna be a part of it.

It didn’t matter. She was out, and he felt steadier on his legs because of it.

----- 3 months later -----

Javier looked around the room, wondering why the fuck he agreed to come and why would they even invite him in the first place. It wasn’t a secret that most of his coworkers thought he was a grade-A asshole, so why invite him to a stag party? He had a suspicion it had something to do with Murphy.

“Stop sulking.” Steve dangled a bottle of beer in front of his face and Javier caught it, bringing it to his lips. “It’s not so bad.”

“I guess.”

The alcohol was practically free since everyone chipped in and no one really paid him much attention. Still, it was kinda boring. He expected to go out into a bar or something, not spend the whole night stuck in someone’s apartment with a bunch of men. Some of them already drunk enough to even stand in one spot without tripping over their own feet.

“Lightweights,” Steve smirked, clinking his bottle against Javier’s.

As time went by, Javier noticed more and more people came to talk with him and Steve. The conversation went from polite chit-chat to, of course, sex and everyone seemed to be interested in Javier’s escapades. He didn’t realize how much gossip there was about him and the women he slept with, but he successfully dodged all the questions without telling anyone to go fuck themselves. As drunk as he was, that was quite an accomplishment. Seeing as he was not about to give up his secrets, they thankfully moved on to brag about their own prowess.

“They are here!” The groom’s best man yelled as he came into the room. Both Steve and Javier looked at each other, brows raised in question, as the men around them stood up and stared at the door excitedly.

Before he could ask what was happening, two huge men came into the room with a group of scarcely clothed women waiting just outside the door. Javier could see Steve close his eyes in defeat as he realized what was going on. “Connie is gonna kill me.”

“You are gonna be fine,” Javier absentmindedly comforted him, trying to see past the men. He didn’t really have the mind to pay him his full attention. Not with the swarm of emotions, he felt every time one of the men moved, and he thought he could see her. He barely listened as the bodyguards explained all the rules they had to follow.

That would be too much of a coincidence, right? Natalia showing up the one time he decided to hang out with someone from his office… there was no chance. There couldn’t be.

-----

She hated doing house calls. The men always felt more entitled when they were comfortable, which meant more trouble. Not just for her, but mostly for Felipe and Antonio, who had to deal with the customers. Thankfully, with the money she made for the club she didn’t have to go out unless absolutely necessary. Like when someone asked for her by name and had the right amount of cash, or when one of the girls broke her leg…

Natalia walked into the dimly lit room with the other girls. A sweet smile plastered on her face as some men circled her and started talking over each other. She didn’t understand any one of them, but they all seemed determined to get her to dance for them.

“I’m flattered, gentlemen, but my priority is the man of the hour,” she pouted and batted her eyelashes at them. They all groaned, but the man who greeted them at the door shushed the whole room and told them to sit down.

Natalia noticed a chair in the middle of a circle where everyone else was sitting. Turning her back to the room, she took a few deep breaths to calm herself down. Even after so many years, she was still nervous performing in such an intimate setting.

She heard some more rustling and when everyone quieted down, one of the girls put on the songs.

Hearing the first notes of Marvin Gaye’s Sexual Healing, she turned around. Her eyes immediately falling on the groom, who seemed both excited and nervous and couldn’t stop moving on his chair.

She let her hand slide up her thighs, and over the white see-through mini dress, to her hips. Revealing just enough of the white thong underneath, to make the whole room groan as she released the material to cover herself again. She continued on her path along her sides and to her breasts. She squeezed them together, her back arching and turning into a roll of her hips.

Natalia walked slowly to the center of the room rocking her hips to the rhythm, her eyes not leaving the groom’s. She traced his jaw with her fingers as she walked behind him, pressing her breasts into his back and letting her hands fall down his chest to his thighs and back up into his hair and making him look over his shoulder at her. She threw her leg over his shoulder, letting his head rest on her lower stomach as she swirled her hips.

Natalia walked back into his line of vision and bent down to put both hands onto his thighs, covering his own, and making sure she arched her back to let the bottom of her ass peek out from under the dress. Lowering herself even more, she breathed over his clothed crotch and then rolled her body until she was face to face with him. She smiled sweetly at him, taking his hand and guiding it to the strings between her breasts that kept the dress tight around her shoulders. She winked at him as he tugged at them and stood up.

With a perfected swirl of her hips and roll of shoulders, the dress fell off her body and pooled around her feet. She kicked it to the side without giving it a look and turned around. Leaving her only in her thong and bra, she bent at the waist, circling her hips in his face before sitting down on his lap. Her hands on his ankles, dragging them up his legs as she straightened and pressed her back to his chest, grinding against him. With one hand around his neck, she took the other one and guided it from her neck down between her breasts and to her panties where she let it fall to his side again.

Arching her back off of him, she pressed her ass into his crotch and could feel him harden under her. It happened more often than not, and she was used to it but was glad the song was coming to the end nonetheless.

Natalia turned to face him with both knees on either side of him, rolling her hips against his chest before sitting across his lap and pushing his head in between her breast for just a second. As the song ended she laid down on his legs with one leg on the ground and the other one in the air, a straight line with her body, and her head dangling over his legs.

She heard whistling and clapping as she opened her eyes.

Javier was tilting his head as he looked down at her, a sharp smile on his lips and her dress in his hand. It took her a few seconds to realize she was still laying on the poor man with all her weight and quickly stood up. Trying not to appear as shocked as she felt when she kissed the groom’s cheek. She took a little awkward bow, while different song started to play and the rest of the girls started paying attention to the men there.

Natalia turned to Javier, who was now standing right by her side and handing her her dress. “Thank you,” she croaked as she took the dress from him.

“Didn’t expect you here, but I’m not gonna pretend it’s not good to see you.” He looked appreciatively down her body, licking his lips.

She knew he had to be drunk. She couldn’t imagine he’d look at her like that otherwise. “I--I need to-- need to change,” she stuttered, still unable to properly grasp what was happening.

“But you will come back right?” he asked, gazing into her eyes so intensely she wouldn’t be able to say no even if someone held a gun to her head. She nodded in response and walked out of the room and to the hallway. The bright lights there making her close her eyes as she tried to remember where the room with their things was.

First, she opened a door to a bathroom, but the second door was a bedroom with her bag. Grabbing it, she walked back to the bathroom and locked the door behind her.

Seeing Pena so drunk and leering at her like she was a 5 course meal was somehow hilarious to her. She knew that the month they spent together, he was trying so hard to keep her at an arm’s length. Never looking at her too long, never speaking more than necessary, but she didn’t mind. She simply adapted to his behavior and implemented simple don’t ask rule. It never occurred to her that maybe he was attracted to her, until then.

She took off the white underwear and put on a pink number she packed. Natalia reapplied some make up and put on a little more perfume before throwing everything in the bag. She walked back to the bedroom, leaving the back by the bed, and returned to the party.

Right in the door, the best man caught her and started thanking her before putting some cash into her hand. “Thank you so much again,” he patted her hand and went back to his friends. Natalia looked down at the money and was more than surprised by the generous amount he gave her.

She turned to Felipe and gave it to him for safekeeping so she wouldn’t have to go all the way back to the bedroom.

“Took you long enough.” His voice shouldn’t feel as familiar as it did, especially after she hadn’t heard it for months.

“Beauty takes time,” she smiled as she turned to him and noticed he had two glasses of whiskey and handing her one. “I’m working, Pena.”

“Come on, just one, with me.” He tilted his head again, and it was like looking into the eyes of a golden retriever. He had this drunken smile that never seemed to completely disappear.

“Just one,” she agreed and took the glass from him.

“Also, I saw you in your pajamas. You need absolutely no time to look beautiful.”

He’d never say something like that in the right state of mind, so she didn’t put any real weight behind his words. Still, it made her smile at how corny he sounded.

“You don’t have to flirt to get a dance, Javier,” a guy shouted from behind him, making her laugh.

Pena rolled his eyes flipping the guy behind him and turning back to her. “I should go help the girls.” She knocked down the rest of the whiskey and put the glass on a table.

His fingertips touched hers, caressing them with his own. She looked down, her skin tingling like she was touching a live wire and not his hand. They felt rough, calloused, but it only heightened the sensation.

“Give me a dance,” he whispered. Her head snapped to look at him, knots forming in her stomach and she swallowed dryly.

“Javier, I shou--” He squeezed her fingers in his hand, making her jump. It seemed more like a reflex or a twitch because he released her just as quickly, but it still left a warm feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“Just one.” He talked through gritted teeth and the sound made her fight off the shudder she felt coming up her spine.

She could see the hunger in his eyes, the veins on his neck, and his other hand flexing by his side. And selfishly, she wanted to see if she could make him look even more desperate, aching for more. She couldn’t wait to call him the next day and tease him about it.

“Just one,” she repeated after him. Taking his hand she led him to one of the more comfortable looking armchairs and teasingly pushed at his chest to get him to sit down.

She felt as if her whole body was on fire just by the way he was looking at her. His eyes were searing holes into her, his fingers digging into the soft leather of the armrests and his hips shifting impatiently, and she realized that maybe she was out of her depth.

She couldn’t back out now, even if she knew that would be the better choice for both of them, but then... It felt like she’d lose, like she cared more than he did and that was not something she was willing to accept. No matter the consequences.

Natalia took one deep breath before moving her hips to the Bon Jovi’s song that started playing. Letting the rhythm take over her upper body, she stuck out her breast with her hands in her hair.

She watched as his eyes followed them down the side of her neck and her breasts.

With a whip of her hair, she turned her back to him, bending at the waist and relaxing her knees so she could easily rock her hips as her hands moved up her legs and to the back of her thighs to slap her ass.

She wished she could see his face because from between her legs she could see one of his legs twitch and almost kick up as if he banged it against something. It encouraged her enough to sit on his knees and wiggle until he parted them so she could sit between them. Resting her shoulders against his chest, feeling his heart beating rapidly, she sneaked her hand to the back of his neck and into his hair. She tugged at it at the same time she looked up at him, and she swore she could feel the groan that escaped him vibrate through her. She would never do that with a normal customer, but she felt the boundaries here were a little blurred.

His eyes were open wide like he was scared to miss even a second of her writhing body between his legs. She tugged again and could feel him suck in a deep breath, but, finally, he looked into her eyes. They were blown, pitch black, desperate. It made her feel so good.

She slowly slithered down his body, on her knees and turning to face him, not caring that she’d probably have a bruise. Looking up at him from between her legs she rested her hands on his knees and sliding them up his thighs, with her thumbs pressing to the inside of them and stopping only inches from his crotch, where an impressive bulge was beginning to form.

He looked from her hands and at her, watching her lick her lips. She could see his hips buck at her simple gesture, which in turn, made her cunt clench around nothing.

Not wasting any time, she hiked her knee up on the armchair and literally climbed on top of him, making him chuckle. Natalia lowered herself enough to feel the heat between their bodies, but not enough to touch. She could feel the muscles in her thighs and knew that she’d curse herself tomorrow. But looking down at him, God, it was so worth it.

He looked down between them as she moved her hips just inches above his hard cock. She was so tempted to sit down and feel it, get some relief for herself, but she saw how tense he was, how hard it was for him just to sit there and take it, and it was way too exciting to give in.

Javier seemed more impatient than her, and she felt his hand move from the armrest to her shoulder, his fingers tracing invisible patterns down her back.

“No touching,” she whispered into his ear teasingly.

He turned his head to look at her, their noses touching, breathing each other in before he spoke. “Come home with me.”

Natalia stopped moving, her breath caught in her throat, and searching his eyes for any indication he was joking, but he seemed dead serious. His eyes were almost pitch black pools of hunger, sucking her into their depths. It was almost hypnotizing.

She made herself smile like it was all a big joke, but it somehow made the whole situation more serious than she anticipated.

“You are drunk.” She started moving again, looking away from him.

“No, I’m not.” He buried his hand into her hair, cradling the back of her head and forcing her to lean her forehead against his. “I wanna feel you.” He squeezed her butt cheek in his other hand, making her arch her back and ball the front of his shirt in her hands. “All of you.”

“Javier...,” she sighed, closing her eyes just to escape his intense gaze. She tried to find the right words to say no only to find out she didn’t want to say no.

“I wan-- I need to fuck you,” he continued, making her whimper at the words.

“Javi,” she put one hand on his cheek to make him focus on her, “you are drunk.”

“I’m not as drunk as you think I am, Natalia,” he spoke firmly, but calmly. “I’m just drunk enough to let you know what I want.”

Her resolve slowly crumbled under his words. The cold spot in her panties and the pulsing pressure that was steadily building between her legs decided for her.

“Just a fuck, right?” she raised an eyebrow.

He smiled wickedly at her.

What could go wrong.

#Javier Pena x female!OC #Javier Pena x reader #javier pena #pedro pascal #narcos #Pedro Pascal x reader #mine

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moczothe1st · 6 years ago

Text

Let’s Play Fire Emblem IV: Genealogy of the Holy War, Part 30: Man, oh Man, oh Manfroy

Part 29

Welcome back to Fire Emblem IV: Genealogy of the Holy War. Last week, we fought off like six armies all at once, and it was miserable, but on the plus side Hilda died. I think every game would be better if Hilda died. This week, we finish taking her castle and… *sigh* And we regret it, probably. This week, we start off mid-turn, so after moving most of my southern front up north toward the action, I end my turn and let the remainder of Hilda’s dorks take their shot.

… Why couldn’t they have gone down that easy last week, huh?!

Now, on our turn, the enemy is down to four dark mages with staves, and one dark bishop with a siege tome in the castle. I have Fee cut down one of the former…

And have Larcei and Seliph talk about love, because honestly I’m actually in no big hurry to finish this castle.

Larcei: I’m coming with you on this one!

Seliph: Of course you’re welcome to… but why?

Larcei: It’s odd… I’m actually a little scared…

Seliph: Odd indeed! If there’s one thing you’ve never been known for, it’s fear.

Larcei: It’s… I just…

Seliph: Shhh. I understand. Now come! After all, what could ever inspire courage quite like having you at my side.

(… Damn, Seliph, smooth like silk. You win a little more of my respect, bro.)

Larcei: Seliph…

This conversation gives Seliph +1 to his Strength; it was apparently supposed to be +3, but he was actually only one point away from his (oddly low) cap. Apparently Seliph only has a natural 25 strength cap! That seems weird considering his descent from Sigurd the Humungous.

And… sigh. Guess I should kill the stupid boss.

All right. Nothing left but sleep staves, and they can’t really hurt us. I have Fee and Altena purge them.

And now we have the problem dealt with. A little jumping around before I set off the next story segment; I have Finn zapped home, where he repairs and sells his Brave Lance. I’m going to have Fee buy it after we take Freege. Sorry, Finn, but you’re kind of just not holding up; you lasted longer than I expected you too, but despite being decent on offense you’re just kind of fragile. Oifey will also be benched here, I think, he can stay to defend Freege castle after we take it. Thankfully…

… The game is polite enough to tell us where the next part of the chapter will be coming from. So I do spend a turn or two moving the kids up to this gate and ready to rock. Seliph?

Seliph: But I can’t help but wonder… are the children at Belhalla still unharmed? I pray they are…

Lewyn: Funny you should say that!

(That’s not really the appropriate response to dying children.)

Lewyn: We’ve got a visitor who’s got a bit of news on that front, Seliph.

(“I’ve seen… terrible things. Thank the gods I have no sister, for I fear I would never be able to look her in the eyes again.”)

Felipe: On secret orders from His Majesty, the abducted children were moved here to Freege for safe-keeping.

(Orders so secret that we never actually got to see Arvis give them in that whole scene where he was desperately trying to save all the children at Chalphy and failing, being immediately caught, and then getting cowed into submission by a man infinitely less powerful than himself. STOP TRYING TO MAKE ME FEEL BAD FOR ARVIS, GAME.)

Felipe: Rest easy, sire. They’re all hiding in the city’s abbey, and they’re all in good health.

Seliph: And all under Hilda’s nose, at that! That you’ve kept every last child safe in Hilda’s own city… color me impressed!

Felipe: Actually, sire… Princess Ishtar deserves your thanks. Without her generous aid given in secret, we could never have done this. No Imperial soldiers dared come even close to the abbey, on pain of the princess’s wrath.

Seliph: Princess Ishtar?! But why… why would she-

Felipe: Few people in this land are as kind and caring as Princess Ishtar.

FEW PEOPLE IN THIS LAND ARE AS KIND AND CARING AS PRINCESS ISHTAR.

YEAH SHE’S A FUCKIN’ TREASURE.

Felipe: All along, the princess has toiled behind the scenes to aid our cause. It was Princess Ishtar herself who ensured that every last child escaped from the bowels of Belhalla.

(“Then… how comes she’s… you know… literally banging the Devil?” “Technically he’s a ghost dragon.”)

Seliph: I see… at any rate, thank the gods for their safety. I’m certain everyone will be glad to know the children are in good hands. You have my deepest thanks, Lord Felipe.

Lewyn: Well, Seliph, that’s one job done. Good to see we’re finally getting results out of this mess.

(Hey, screw you man, I’ve conquered three quarters of the country.)

Seliph: And yet, Julia still eluds us… where could she possibly be?

Lewyn: The only options left now are Belhalla and Velthomer. It’s got to be one of those two.

Seliph: And Belhalla is where Julius awaits…

Lewyn: Yeah. We’ll need to find Julia first if we want to go anywhere near Belhalla. Without Julia’s power on our side, we won’t have a hope in hell against Julius.

(Again, not technically true, but you really should listen to him on this one.)

Seliph: But no matter what’s happened, Julius is still her brother. Will she even want to fight him…

Lewyn: … You’ll have to convince her.

(I mean, you’ve met Julius. It won’t be super hard.)

Ishtar: This will require that I leave your side, even for a while. I beg your forgiveness.

Julius: Feh.

Julius: Why the rush to get out there so suddenly, Ishtar? All the soldiers they could ever throw at us could never so much as scratch me. Why even bother with those maggots?

Ishtar: Yes, I know… but for me, there is no greater pride than being one of Freege’s great mages.

(“Saving all those children? Doesn’t even compare.”)

Ishtar: My parents and brother lie dead, and I cannot stand to leave their murderers to run amok… please. All I ask is a chance for vengeance.

Julius: It sounds as if what you really want is to following your family to death on a rebel’s blade! Are you so desperate to escape me, Ishtar?

Ishtar: No… nothing like that, Lord Julius. I love you. Nothing will ever change that.

Julius: Hmhmhmhmhm… I know.

Julius: Very well! Fight if you must. I won’t stop you.

Ishtar: Thank you… now, I beg your pardon. Meng! Bleg! Mabel! We sortie at once.

(Oh god, we are really scraping the bottom of the name barrel this time. ‘Meng’? ‘Bleg’?)

Julius: Now, then. I think it’s time we put an end to this sorry show. Deadlords, move out! And order Arion’s unit to attack!

(… wait, what?)

So. You may recall I told you to remember this moment.

It was important for two reasons.

First: This is the moment the war becomes winnable. You see, Manfroy is not… really all that into Loptyr. Oh, he worships him, but it’s not really about loyalty so much as sadism. Manfroy hates the world, and every single human being in it. His overall goal in life is nothing more or less than to make humanity suffer as much as possible. But he’s generally pragmatic about it. He knew the best way to hurt humanity was to revive Loptyr, who possesses incredible powers and views humans as little better than food to eat and pets to abuse. This moment, right here, is the moment that Manfroy, flush with overconfidence in the presence of his god on earth and having enjoyed a long decade and a half tormenting the entire continent, finally makes a mistake. He lets his sadism overpower his common sense for the first time. And in so doing, he gives us a real shot.

Second: Because he’s still Manfroy, he’s a total fuckwad about it.

Remember Ayra? Waaaaaaaaay back in Verdane, remember how we recruited Ayra. How we had to get to a castle to turn her non-hostile to us, only she was between the army and the castle and she was trying to kill us the whole time?

Yeah, that’s happening again. Only it’s Julia, our lil’ atomic vampire gatling gun trying to kill us. Of course she’s just as strong as she was when she was on our side, why would you even ask. Oh, and just for fun…

Here’s the map of what we need to achieve. The blue X is where we are. The red X is where we need to get to save Julia. The ravenous piranha is Ishtar’s army, waiting to pounce upon us and tear us limb from bloody limb. And to her right, marked by the douche, is Julius. You don’t have to fight him, and you in fact definitely should not because getting anywhere near him will also draw the Deadlords out to fight you, but of course has a siege tome now and will cheerfully wreck the shit of anyone who gets anywhere near him, therefore heavily limiting the space we have to move.

And of course, Julia will be trying to kill us the whole time, and we can’t fight back and risk killing her.

And hahaha, yeah, Arion will be showing up soon.

This is not going to be any fun, is what I’m getting at here.

First thing’s first, let’s take a look at our piranha.

Ishtar has taken yet another level in badass; her magic has gone up two points, skill by three, luck by 2, defense by eight, and resistance by one. And this time, she’s got an actual army with her instead of fighting us alone; three Snipers, three Heroes, three Sages, three High Priests with Fortify (of course) staves, and of course…. *snerk*…. Bleg, Meng, and Mabel.

They’re three identical Falcon Knights, both in picture and stats, so I’ll only be showing one of them. Despite the intensely crappy names, they honestly three ridiculously dangerous units. They all have Earth Swords, meaning any hit they land is going to heal them, and they’ll be hitting often what with that maxed-out Speed and solid 23 skill. And to make things worse, they all have the Nihil ability to prevent us from just shooting them down with arrows or relying on Astra to solve our problems.

So! This is going to suck. A lot. But thanks to Ced being awesome, there’s an option I can take to make this a lot more manageable. Lana sells her Silence staff, and he buys it…

And with his 35 fucking magic he can overpower Ishtar’s 32 Resistance to Silence her up to three times, basically removing Mjolnir from the equation for this battle. And Mjolnir is like… half of this battle’s equation.

I literally cannot believe I’ve never tried this before. From here, the army moves forward, Seliph leading the way; he’ll be attacked by quite a lot of people here, but he’s a living iron wall of destruction, and the more of these people I can lure away from the main melee, the better. So. End turn!

(*sigh* Must you, now?)

Arion: Chalphy’s fall to our blades shall be the first step to winning back our fatherland. Now, move in! Show these liberators one final defiance from the drackoknights of Thracia!

A solid enough start! We hurt one Falcon Knight, and didn’t take much damage in return. And now that Ishtar is in range…

Oh, that is delicious. Now, my first goal here is to kill at least one of these three annoyingly fast pega-bitches, but I also have to get Altena (and yes it has to be her, of course it has to be her) down to the castle to intercept Arion. I hate everything forever.

One down! Let’s keep this train rolling and clear out some more jerks.

Two out of three ain’t bad!

Okay, I think that’s about all the damage I’m going to get done this turn. And not bad at all, frankly, so I’m happy. I have Lene dance Altena, and warp her home with Lana.

Ignore the pentagram. It’s a good pentagram. Down at the bottom, Altena equips Gae Bolg and flies to just outside Arion’s range. The rest of his buddies don’t matter at all, but I don’t want her to fight him. There’s a reason for this, of course. It’s unsatisfying, but it makes her happy.

The things I do for my kids, I swear.

End turn.

… Huh. They don’t attack her? Or maybe they can’t damage her. I honestly am not sure.

*sniff*

I remember the last time I played this map.

I died five times on this battle alone.

And now it’s going better than the fight against the fucking Beige Knights.

I don’t understand what’s going on.

Altena: How could you be so craven?! How dare you place your vanity and pride over what truly matters!

(You tell him, honey!)

Arion: What do you want from me, then?

(God, don’t ask her that. This LP is not rated Adults Only.)

Altena: Take a good, hard look at Prince Seliph! Ask yourself, this: why is he still fighting? For whom is he out here day after day, setting his own suffering to the side?

Arion: So Seliph fights for justice, and I somehow do not? Is that what you’re trying to say?

(…. YES!)

Altena: Very well, Arion… if you won’t see reason, so be it. Come on. Kill me. End this. My… my life is in your hands. I die with no regrets.

Arion: A-Altena… very well. You can rest easy now. I get it. I was wrong… my mercenary days are at an end, and my final task is with Seliph. Wait… no. With you. I now fight for you, Altena.

Altena: Arion…

Yeah, it would have been neat if you’d done this a few maps ago, jackass, but Arion is on our side now. Or, well, sorta. He doesn’t join the army, but his unit becomes neutral and are programmed to stay close to Altena and be hostile to any Belhalla units that get near them. I know we all sort of wanted to kill him, but he still has Gungnir and I really just didn’t want to risk a screwup when things are going so well. I mean, I’m not even gonna use him. At this point, letting him get near the enemy would likely result in him rushing Julius and dying, which sorta defeats the point. Let’s just end this; time to wipe out the remains of Ishtar’s unit.

And now, a special treat. Since Ishtar can’t fight, we get to see a conversation that even I have never actually seen.

(…. ‘Nothing but kind’.)

(Just sayin’.)

Ishtar: … I may be in the wrong. But I can’t turn back now. Forgive me, Tinni… please….

And thus passes Princess Ishtar of Freege. She died as she lived: getting nuked by her cousins. And without her leadership stars…

All right. Now, the rest of the army is going to stay right where they fucking are. Julia cannot be trusted to not kill herself, or more troublesome to not kill me. The only people going forward are Seliph and Ares, who are going to go north across the forest, out of Julius’s range, and try to lure Julia into following them. Their resistance is tremendous, and they’re both on horses. Ideally she’ll try to kill them, fail, and be following them and unable to catch up until I can free her. This will take a few turns of nothing but movement because I will not be going anywhere near Julius.

Trust me.

She seeeeeeeeeees uuuuuuuuuuussssss…

Okay. There’s two things that could happen here. She’s either going to go east and cut us off, in which case we’ll be dodging vampire lasers the rest of the map, or she’s going to go north through the forest and we basically win the game. Let’s see!

…. Bitch. Okay, straight west you guys! Hide on the healing church, you beautiful bastards. God, haven’t used one of those in awhile, with those fifty healers in the army lining up to zap everyone with staves.

Dammit, Loptyrians, I am trying to flee in terror from a small woman.

Okay. We can do this. Ares heals up, and all we have to do is clear out those priests and kill Manfroy. Go get ‘em, boys!

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Are you fucking kidding me.

Of all the.

That.

You.

HOW.

What the!

NO.

………………

Well. You know all those times when I was questioning my good fortune? The moments where I was like ‘oh, man, I don’t trust how generous the game is being, bet it’s gonna screw me later!’ Well, that just happened.

*sigh*

End turn. If I survive this, I will be genuinely stunned.

Oh hey it’s as though the Hel tome is really easy to dodge and you should have dodged it all along. But here we go…

(How do you know that’s Manfroy? You’ve never met him…)

Manfroy: So I did. And so long as I live, my puppet she shall remain! Hehehehehe! She’s every bit as helpless before my magic as her mother was…

Seliph: I should have known. If not for you, Mother… Gah! All of this misery… all these agonizing years… It was all your doing from the outset!

Manfroy: Heh… of course. Everything I’ve done has led to this moment: the revival of my lord Loptyr. And at last, it is so! Loptyr’s advent in the form of Prince Julius is complete, and darkness shall soon engulf the world. You cannot prevent it. Nobody can…

Seliph: Manfroy, you… Father’s grief… Mother’s despair… if not for you and your foul ambitions, none of this would have ever happened… Damn you, Manfroy! I cannot allow you to win! I will not! You’ll NEVER know mercy for your crimes!

Yeah, not the dramatic win I was hoping for after that great speech. But I guess I saw that coming. Reset! I start off a little differently; Seliph and Ares park themselves on trees. With the 20% dodge bonus, they should have no chance of being hit by Hel, and very little of being hit by Julia. We need to clear out these Dark Mages before we go for Manfroy.

Better! This repeats for all of them; one actually dies because they’re forced to attack at close-range thanks to being blocked off by their own buddies, which is great.

Yeah, yeah.

He only does one damage. Seliph could have survived him with no problem in any other situation. I hate this game sometimes. On our turn, I have Ares and Seliph each clear out a mage…

Then immediately go hide in the woods again. I am playing this as cautious as humanly possible, honestly. Better to spend three turns killing mages than let the reset counter jump up above the number of updates.

The enemy misses again on their turn, because they literally can’t not miss. Two more deaths…

All right! That’s that for dark mages. On the next turn, Ares is going to park his butt on the healing church forever, and Seliph goes to fight Manfroy.

You stay out of this.

Now then. It’s time. It’s time to face Manfroy himself. In direct combat. The enemy behind it all! The dark schemer who has given over our kingdom to the dark god. And he…

Is a loser. I mean, he’s not the worst enemy in the game. He’s okay. But he’s definitely no match for Arvis, or Ishtar, or… anyone with a holy weapon, really. Which fits, really; his danger is his skill and intellect, not his power. But considering he’s basically the final boss, it’s a little sad, still.

Seliph. Teach him some manners, bro.

And with two shots, he’s down to six HP. End turn.

I miss the days when I was the one with the Julia Beams.

*sniff*

God. That is just cathartic to do. Now. With Manfroy off to Hell, where I’m assuming he will meet Hilda and strike up a whirlwind love affair, Seliph can take the castle.

Lewyn: That’s right, isn’t it Felipe?

Felipe: My liege concealed the key within his most treasured memento…. The circlet once worn by Empress Deirdre.

(HURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRK!)

Felipe: If we can find that circlet, sir, the Book of Naga is yours.

Lewyn: Deirdre’s circlet…

And that’s that! Ares runs toward the castle, with intent to lure Julia toward us. Of course she’s still hostile, why are you even asking? She has to talk to Seliph to get back to our side. Tee-hee, Fire Emblem hates you.

God, you are just like your mother. Seliph, go fix this please.

Seliph: It was Manfroy’s dark arts. He brainwashed you into his service.

Julia: Manfroy… that’s right, he caught me…

Seliph: Thank goodness you’re safe.

Julia: Lord Seliph, I…

Seliph: It’s fine, Julia. I know. Lewyn told me everything. I’m sorry… I failed to protect you.

Julia: No… it’s fine. Don’t worry, Seliph. I finally know why I’ve survived for all these years. I know my fate… I’m fated to fight. I’ll never run away again!

Seliph: You’re right… This is the will of fate, tragic as it is. None can afford to cower or flee now. Until the bitter end, we must march on.

And with that, Julia rejoins the team. She’s just as strong as ever, barring one fact; she’s picked up Deirdre’s circlet, adding Renewal and Miracle to her list of abilities, which is a heck of an upgrade.

But not as good as the one she gets from reaching Velthomer.

Lewyn: It worked… it really worked! And there it is, the Book of Naga! It’s yours for the taking, Julia!

Julia: … Oh! How strange… it feels so warm. It’s almost as if I’ve known this book all my life…

And now, the game is over. See, here’s the thing… Julius is just as dangerous as before, if not slightly moreso. His stats are slightly lower than his first appearance where you are very clearly not meant to fight him, but he still has Loptyr’s game-breaking effect, and his ability list is now Wrath, Pursuit, Nihil, and Accost. So he can double most of our army, null critical hits and combat abilities, and gets a huge critical boost when his health drops below half. And of course, he’s on a castle and gets the defense bonus and health regeneration that gives. Basically, he’s borderline invincible. The only real option if you lose Julia is to have Seliph fight him, and poor Seliph can only do about 15 damage per turn (if he hits) some of which will then be healed. While getting blasted in the face repeatedly, so you’ll need to get someone in to heal him between rounds, and they’ll very probably die to having Meteors dropped on their head unless you’re very lucky. And then there’s the Deadlords, who are just a pain.

But if you do have Julia…

Yeah.

YEEEEEEEEEAH.

Naga is the best weapon in the game. +20 each to Skill, Speed, Defense, and Resistance, instantly turns Julia into a hyper-fast, hyper-accurate, hyper-durable killing machine. And as a light magic tome, it has no disadvantage to any kind of weapon. And, of course, it negates Loptyr’s half-damage effect. Your reward for the most annoying recruitment in the game is the weapon that ends the game. Big time.

So.

It’s time to lay back and let Big J play us out, I think. I have her do the Arena, just for old times sake. Nothing even touches her.

Julia: Seven wins, gained two levels. +2 HP, +1 Speed.

About as good as can be expected at this point, honestly. And it…. Doesn’t really matter, you know? She heads to Belhalla, and Julius has no chance to hit her with Meteor, so he doesn’t even try. The Twelve Deadlords rush up to meet her, of course…

They’re going to regret this. The Deadlords are named for the animals of the Chinese Zodiac, and each one has a different class and some very good weapons and abilities. They’re a dangerous group! Usually.

One down, eleven to go. End turn.

And then there were nine.

Sorry, seven.

Six of one, half-dozen of the other.

Fun fact, ‘Lepus’ means ‘Rabbit’. And ‘Dead’.

Well I’ll be! Someone landed a hit! Too bad Julia did too. Four to go.

I’m so bad at counting! It’s actually three. Congrats to Equus the Bishop on surviving a round with The Julinator. But with that, none of the remaining Deadlords will actually take a shot at Julia anymore, so I’m just going to ignore them. It’s time for a family reunion.

(He isn’t wrong.)

Yes, that was a single round of combat. Julius procced his Accost skill and made the fight last an extra round. This… was not helpful to him.

Julius vanishes, the spirit of the dragon arising from the castle as the entire map shakes…

But it’s just bluster. Naga’s power has destroyed Loptyr’s vessel, and with its bloodline finally ended the dragon’s grip on this world is gone. Loptyr returns to whatever void it came from, and with the power that animated them gone, the few surviving Deadlords vanish.

I’m going to cut out here, but no sense waiting a week, huh? So see you tomorrow for the epilogue, kids. I think we earned it.

Final Reset Total: 30. Y... yay.

Epilogue

#Let's Play #let's play fire emblem IV #let's play fire emblem #Fire Emblem: Genealogy of the Holy War #fire emblem #fire emblem 4 #my writing #lp #long post

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crystalracing · 7 years ago

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Under the skin of the enigmatic Raikkonen

KIMI RAIKKONEN IS ONE OF THOSE BLOKES WHO polarises opinion, that people seem to either love or hate. Ironic really, considering he is the epitome of getting on with doing his own thing, not manipulating anything, staying clear of boring politics and not worrying about things he has no control over. As a private man who can be diﬃcult to read – not to mention one who a proportion of Formula 1 followers think has passed his best –he is, as our cover suggests, F1’s enigma. Which is why Ben Anderson’sin-depth 14-page feature, beginning on page 14, is probably the best and most-balanced thing you’ll ever read about him. Based on interviews with Raikkonen himself and those around him, it properly assesses his role on the F1 grid, and in the paddock. Ferrari announced a one-year contract extension for Raikkonen on Tuesday – after the last page of our feature had gone to press – but one thing for sure is that he is closer to the end of his F1 career than the beginning, and this week’s Autosport also provides a study of a talent at the opposite end of the spectrum. There hasn’t been a buzz this big about a young British prospect since Lewis Hamilton was rising the ranks, and Kevin Turner’s chat with Lando Norris (p28)tells us all about his cracking recent F1 test with McLaren. It was good timing that the interview coincides with two more wins in the Formula 3 European Championship at Zandvoort (p40). Funny to think that Norris hadn’t even been born when Raikkonen made his Formula Renault UK debut in 1999, and was only a toddler when Kimi ﬁrst raced a Formula 1 car…

“IF YOU STRUGGLE, PEOPLE SLAG YOU OFF, BUT IT DOESN’T BOTHER ME”

It is very rare that a driver comes along who challenges preconceived notions of what it takes to be a Formula 1 driver. But when a true prodigy breaks through into grand prix racing through sheer force of talent, they often create a sort of butterﬂy eﬀect.The world we thought we knew before is suddenly changed, and will never be the same again. Kimi Raikkonen should go down in F1 history as one such driver. It has taken Max Verstappen’s remarkable recent ascension to motorsport’s pinnacle to further redeﬁne the boundaries of possibility – so successful in one season of junior single-seater racing that he simply must be in F1 immediately. Since 2015, Verstappen has been thrilling fans, threatening reputations, and rewriting rules with his fearless and superlative brand of racing. Fourteen years earlier, Raikkonen laid the template –arriving with Peter Sauber’s eponymous team after a brief but highly successful stint in Formula Renault. Raikkonen had competed in fewer than 25 car races; surely he couldn’t be ready for such a monumental leap.Yet there he was – 13th on the grid for his debut in Australia, within four tenths of a second of sophomore team-mate Nick Heidfeld, scoring a point in his ﬁrst GP, ﬁnishing not much more than 12 seconds behind his team-mate. Raikkonen looked immediately like he belonged – a driver so naturally gifted he could bypass F3 and F3000 completely, turn convention on its head, yet be immediately and properly competitive in F1. Truly astounding. The question with all prodigies, in any sport, is what next? Will they fully harness that ability, show the necessary will and dedication to ally proper craft to their genius, and transform themselves into a truly unstoppable force? It is this unique blend that tends to deﬁne the ultimate greatness of an athlete – whether they burn out early and fade away in the Wayne Rooney style, or evolve into an era-deﬁning machine in the mould of Cristiano Ronaldo. Raikkonen’s stats suggest he’s something of an underachiever. This weekend’s Belgian Grand Prix will mark his 263rd grand prix start; only four drivers – Rubens Barrichello, Michael Schumacher, Jenson Button and Fernando Alonso – have started more. For a driver of Raikkonen’s ability and longevity to have scored ‘only’ 20 wins and 17 pole positions, plus a single world championship achieved in fortuitous circumstances in 2007, seems out of kilter. Damon Hill would not consider himself to be the most naturally gifted driver ever to grace F1. Raikkonen could make that claim, yet Hill achieved more wins and poles than Raikkonen has, in much less than half the number of starts. And yet Raikkonen is still good enough that he is still racing for Ferrari – F1’s grandest team – at the ripe old age of 37, and Tuesday’s announcement that he will remain for 2018 means he will continue doing so for another season at least. That shows Raikkonen still has something serious to oﬀer in the eyes of those who make the biggest decisions in Maranello. Sport is always about much more than pure numbers. Personality and style also count for as much sometimes. Raikkonen commands a strong and loyal fan base, energised by his ‘Iceman’ reputation, one he says he’s done nothing conscious to cultivate. Publicly, Raikkonen comes oﬀ as a cool, aloof, anti-hero character – a no-nonsense antidote to the clean-cut corporate image of modern racing. His ‘wild-child’ early years curry him huge favour with those followers of F1 who pine for the era of James Hunt, when drivers partied away the nights and drove by the seat of their pants in the day. But even lovable rogues like Hunt and Raikkonen are driven by a ﬁerce competitive instinct that belies their devil-may-care reputations.We are left with a confusing picture. How to reconcile the incredible natural ability that once redrew boundaries at Sauber and McLaren, and claimed a historic post-Schumacher world championship for Ferrari, with the later seasons of struggle: bettered by Felipe Massa, outpaced by Romain Grosjean, destroyed by Alonso, now playing second ﬁddle to Sebastian Vettel? Herein lies the enigma of Kimi Raikkonen.

BLAZING A TRAIL AT SAUBER

Raikkonen’s first season in F1 was very strong by conventional standards for a rookie, but when you consider his fundamental lack of experience in car racing it was truly exceptional. His results were very good – four points finishes in total, twice finishing fourth (in Austria and Canada) and placing inside the top 10 in the world championship. Raikkonen made a vital contribution to what then constituted Sauber’s best F1 season, but it was his raw speed that caught the eye. Third time out, Raikkonen qualified only a tenth behind Heidfeld in Brazil, and thereafter matched his more experienced team-mate 7-7 on Saturdays. Not only that, Raikkonen performed with a calm assuredness that belied his lack of experience. “Kimi was very young [21] and not experienced at all – it was very risky,” says Sauber driver trainer Josef Leberer, who worked with Ayrton Senna at McLaren and recalls his season alongside Raikkonen with fondness. “A lot of people said, ‘I don’t understand why Sauber were doing this’. But it worked. “He’s not the kind of guy who sits days and hours on the computer. Such an intuitive driver, his instinct is incredible. This way I would say he’s one of the best. It comes naturally. No bullshit. Just wanna be fast, no excuses. “He was not spoiled, so you could talk with him and be straightforward, and he was an incredible, cool guy. Doing the massage in the morning we had to wake him up and he said, ‘Let me get an extra five minutes of sleep before the race’. I’d never seen this – the second race in Malaysia and he wanted to sleep an extra few minutes! Can you imagine being like this in your second race? “He made such an impact. We had a feeling and he was fast immediately. You could see he had the requirements to be a top driver.” Raikkonen’s extraordinary ability to drive an F1 car quickly without the educational foundation enjoyed by his peers left a lasting impression on the paddock. Renowned motor racing journalist and author David Tremayne was Sauber’s press release writer during Raikkonen’s rookie campaign. He recalls a driver aloof and reserved in public, but completely different when hidden from the glare of a camera lens. “He was very quiet, like he is now,” explains Tremayne. “You thought, ‘What is this kid like, is he going to be another Mika [Hakkinen]?’ But he clearly wasn’t in terms of the way he conducted himself – he wasn’t forthcoming. Kimi didn’t want to do any of the other bollocks. He wanted to get in the car and get on with it. “[But] at Monza I heard all this raucous laughter on top of the media bus at Sauber. I went downstairs and it was Kimi, Peter Collins, and a guy who turned out to be Kimi’s kart mechanic – and it was Kimi doing all the laughing. “It was the only time I ever saw what you might call ‘the real Kimi’– with mates, completely relaxed, no need to be protective of anything.

I think he has the ability to compartmentalise. There was a lot of fire in him but you didn’t get to see it. He’s very self-reliant. I don’t think he needs an entourage. “As a driver, he was wonderful to watch. Felipe came in the following year and he was quick but always on a different line. Kimi was just cool and calm with it – not pushing the car or wrestling with it.”So many drivers dream of being world champion, work hard to achieve that dream, but never even make it onto the grid. Others carve out opportunity but become overwhelmed by expectation or consumed by pressure. It seems Raikkonen benefited not only from exceptional natural ability behind the wheel – after all there are many drivers who share that sort of skill – but also a mental resilience and confidence that helped strip away the extra burdens that might have destroyed someone of a different character. Raikkonen never dreamed big or got carried away by the prospect of fame and fortune. It seems it was this aloof attitude, bordering on indifference, that made him so perfectly suited to thrive in F1. “It was a good team to be in; nice people – I still have lunch there,” Raikkonen tells Autosport, relaxing into his seat as we discuss the first stage of his long career in F1. “For me, it was very easy in someways because I didn’t really expect anything.“I didn’t know anything about F1. I never went to see a race. The first time I saw it live was when I was in a test myself. So for me it was like if you just go to Formula Renault [for the first time]. I had nothing to worry about – what’s the point? It either goes well or it goes bad. What can you do?” Ultimately, it went very well indeed for Raikkonen, who made such an impression that he was poached by Ron Dennis to replace retiring double world champion Hakkinen at McLaren for 2002. Even a wunderkind like Verstappen had to wait four races into his second season before earning promotion to one of F1’s biggest teams…

McLAREN: WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN

Some paddock insiders consider Raikkonen’s five-year stint at McLaren to be his absolute peak. His first grand prix victory at Malaysia in 2003 briefly made him F1’s youngest winner since team founder Bruce McLaren. Raikkonen won eight more times for McLaren in those five seasons, as well as taking 11 pole positions and 36 podiums from 87 starts. He quickly established himself as one of grand prix racing’s most exciting stars, but a world championship title eluded him. He was second to Alonso in 2005, but came closest to breaking through two years earlier, when Raikkonen lost out to Schumacher by just two points. “Back in those days he was massively quick,” recalls Pat Fry, McLaren’s chief engineer during Raikkonen’s stint with the team. “It’s a shame car reliability and engine reliability didn’t work for him really. If you look at him through the early 2000s, he was right up there with the best, wasn’t he? He was absolutely outstanding driving the McLaren through 2003, 2005. He should’ve won the championship in 2005.” Raikkonen was unfortunate in that his time at McLaren coincided with Schumacher’s most dominant seasons at Ferrari and latterly the brief but potent rise of Alonso at Renault. Only once during that period, in ’05, could McLaren be considered to have produced the absolute quickest car on the grid, and senior personnel admit it was too unreliable to ultimately get the job done. In this context, Raikkonen achieved much of his success against the odds. Apart from his first year with the team in 2002 – when he was paired alongside stalwart David Coulthard – Raikkonen was never beaten by his McLaren team-mate across a season. He won many admirers inside the squad for his fearless style of racing. “He was blindingly quick – sometimes the circuit wasn’t big enough to contain him in those early days, but he was pushing to the max and everyone liked it,” remembers McLaren’s chief operating oﬀicer Jonathan Neale. “He used to scare me. He scared me because he was so completely fearless. You just knew there was no way he was going to give anything less than 110%, and I don’t mean that lightly. He was just a force of nature.” Out of the car, McLaren found a “completely uncompromising” driver, whose “maverick” style didn’t always sit well with the team’s clean-cut corporate image. “We struggled to find out who he was as he didn’t say very much,” adds Neale. “[But] everybody underestimates him at their peril. He did have a fantastic sense of humour. If there were two drivers going on stage, to do a presentation or a question-and-answer session, he’d be sitting in the back and he’d do an amazing mimic. He had the voices and the phrases, all of that, so he was a sharp observer. “There was never a dull moment, but he was a great racer –somebody who is still spoken of highly in the team for what did with us, for us, and the style in which he did it, which was uncompromising. It was uncompromising in the car, it was uncompromising in the set-up, he was uncompromising on whether he wanted to be with a sponsor. It’s not always easy, but isn’t it refreshing when you find somebody who is brave enough to be candid and frank and not prepared to cower to conformity?

“He wouldn’t suﬀer fools. Everyone was taken at face value, no airs, no graces, nobody standing on ceremony, what you see is what get, very grounded, but enormous following with the mechanics and engineers – real loyalty. “Because that fire burns very intensely, it was kind of polarising –either you got it or you didn’t. It is quite diﬀicult getting engineers close to him – to be able to have that rapport and reach him without being too much, too little, not a fool. “Any whiﬀ of bullshit and you were toast! But [race engineer] Mark Slade was very good with Kimi and they had an understanding. Mark knew when to leave him alone, and when to push him and there were occasions when Mark was quite assertive with him, but because he built up that trust he could be. It is easy to be intimidated by somebody of that temperament.” Slade has worked with Raikkonen twice through the Finn’s F1 career – first at McLaren and later at Lotus. Slade responded well to Raikkonen’s no-nonsense attitude and fussiness for precision. He says the Raikkonen that drove for McLaren arrived at Woking “well-rounded” and was “massively impressive”. “He knew how to manage tyres, he knew how to set up the car – it was like working with someone who’d done it for five years,” Slade recalls. “He knew exactly what he wanted. It was not like working with a new driver. “The only aspect that was a little bit ragged early on was in qualifying, when we had to put the fuel in the car for the race, so 2003. He had a little bit of a tendency to want to be on pole regardless of the amount of fuel in the car. And there were a couple of races where he went oﬀ trying to achieve too much. “We basically banned him from watching the other drivers’qualifying laps. We just told him, ‘Go out and drive the car as quickly as it will go’. We did that for the rest of this season and he didn’t do any more mistakes.” Raikkonen is often portrayed as a lazy driver – someone who simply relies on his natural feel for the car but isn’t particularly interested in doing anything other than driving. Slade argues that’s a misunderstanding of Raikkonen’s approach. It’s not that he is uninterested, rather that he sees clear delineation in responsibilities within teams, and wants to trust those around him to do their jobs properly without interference. Slade admits this approach can compromise Raikkonen when internal politics arise.

“There were times at McLaren when things didn’t go the way they should have for Kimi and if he had been just a little bit more involved, that could have swapped things around a bit,” Slade says. “In the middle of 2005 there were certain things happening with the design direction of the car that didn’t suit Kimi and there was a lot of tension and pressure. I was having to fight Kimi’s corner, because he wasn’t really doing much himself. That was quite stressful. “He didn’t like hanging around in the oﬀice for very long. His debriefs were very short, but he gave us the important points and that was almost perfect for me, because it meant we didn’t spend lots of time talking about what was not relevant. He won’t rant about it. It’s just, ‘That’s what we need to fix’. Simple as that. “If people try to push him in a diﬀerent direction, it’s not going to work because you need him on board. You need to be on board with him and he needs to be on board with you. For me, it was enjoyable to work with him, because it was logical and straightforward. “One of the biggest diﬀiculties with drivers who are less consistent with their approach is trying to filter out this inconsistency. It becomes very diﬀicult very quickly. If he came in saying there’s something wrong with the car, the chances are there’s something wrong with the car – even if you can’t see that on data. Ninety-nine percent of the time he’s right. “When we were doing Michelin tyre testing, they desperately wanted him to do the testing. They told us at one point that he was the best test driver that they worked with. They used to give a little array of tick boxes for diﬀerent characteristics of the tyre – what the tyres were doing, what the characteristics of the diﬀerent compounds were. They said there were some drivers who got most of the points correct, but he always got them all correct. “And his consistency of lap time when we tested eight diﬀerent compounds – his baselines would be within one tenth, and that meant that they could properly analyse the lap time data as well as the driver’s comments.” Slade says he’s never seen anything else like Raikkonen’s “extraordinary level of sensitivity” to the car, to the point where Raikkonen could detect problems with McLaren’s traction control so aware the engineers couldn’t see in their trackside data. The chase for a ‘perfect car’ can be a real curse when too many things aren’t working correctly, but this degree of feel made Raikkonen a formidable weapon during F1’s tyre war between Bridgestone and Michelin. “That played a big part of how it went,” says Raikkonen. “I was very happy to do the tyre tests. We could test 20 diﬀerent sets of tyres and choose exactly what you wanted, whatever you feel is best for you. It was one extra thing that you could use.” Raikkonen does not agree with those, such as Williams technical chief Paddy Lowe, who would say his McLaren years represent Raikkonen at his peak. But he was certainly unfortunate not to win at least one world title with McLaren, and Slade recalls some truly stunning drives by Raikkonen during that period. “No doubt Michael, Fernando and Kimi were the three guys,” argues Slade, who feels Raikkonen could have won “15 straight races” in 2005 with better reliability. “Then, just slightly behind, DC, [Juan Pablo] Montoya and a few others. When it came to the driving and his racecraft, Kimi was right up there.“In the middle part of the [2005] season the car was phenomenal and he was driving phenomenally well. At Monza, he qualified fastest with the full tank of fuel [before a grid penalty]; at Silverstone, he was half a second per lap quicker than Montoya, who won the race; in France he started 13th and finished second. Japan was awesome because he came from the back and won. “One of the best races he ever did was Indianapolis in 2003, when we were on the Michelin wets and the Michelin wets were rubbish. He finished second. It was fantastic. He just drove his heart out. He didn’t win the race, but it was an absolutely phenomenal drive. “Nurburgring 2006 – the engine was terrible that year and he finished fourth. I remember him coming to the bus afterwards, sweat pouring oﬀ him, and he said, ‘I just drove 60 qualifying laps’, and you could see he had. We knew he had to drive phenomenally well to achieve that with the car we had then.” By now Raikkonen had grown increasingly frustrated with life at McLaren and reputedly made an agreement with Ferrari as early as late-2005 to join the Scuderia for 2007. “He signed with Ferrari two years before he moved to Ferrari,” confirms his then-Ferrari team-mate Massa. “I remember when I signed for Ferrari, Kimi already has his contract; the only way I stay in Ferrari is if Michael stops.” Schumacher announced his first retirement from F1 after winning the 2006 Italian GP at Monza. Thus, the way was clear for Raikkonen and Massa to usher in a new era at Maranello.

MARK SLADE RAIKKONEN’S ENGINEER AT McLAREN AND LOTUS

Does Kimi have particular traits in his driving? He’s very, very smooth, very gentle, very precise – minimal inputs into the car. He wants the car to do the work. Most drivers tend to be a bit more aggressive with inputs, which can have beneﬁts when the tyres are hard and difficult to get into the working window. The other thing is power steering. He came to us and complained about power steering. We spent a lot of time ﬁxing it. Then he went to Ferrari and apparently complained about power steering there. Then he came back to Lotus and complained about power steering. So the feel of the steering is very, very important. He doesn’t want any friction in it. He doesn’t want any play on the brake pedal. Also, Mark [Arnall] always carried a special cloth to clean the windscreen, because if there was a slightest ﬁnger print or scratch, we had to change it.

He says he hates understeer and you often hear him complain about the front… Even at McLaren there were occasions where we did have issues. Canada was a good one in 2005. We were slower on new tyres than on used tyres because he couldn’t get the new tyre temperature to work. The start of the lap can be a real problem if he just hasn’t got the front grip that he needs to get the car into corners. I would say that’s probably the only real weakness. There were times also that was an advantage, because he was a lot more gentle on tyres. When we won the race with Lotus in 2013 in Melbourne, he just walked away with it because he could do one stop. Those tyres were absolutely perfect for him, then Pirelli changed the tyres and that disadvantaged him unfortunately.

Why does he often seem to make mistakes in qualifying? He takes a high-risk approach to qualifying. It’s all about corner entry speed. And if you get the corner wrong you tend to drop a lot of time. Other drivers probably prioritise the exit a little bit more. He’s trying to carry speed through; that is high risk.

WORLD CHAMPION THEN DITCHED BY FERRARI

Raikkonen’s Ferrari career got off to a dream start – pole position and victory in his first race in Melbourne, and of course he went on to claim the championship as Ferrari backed his bid to overhaul the McLarens of Alonso and rookie sensation Lewis Hamilton. Raikkonen succeeded in this mission by a solitary point when team-mate Massa moved aside for him to win the season finale in Brazil.“For me it counts much more than any others – if I had won with McLaren or with somebody else,” Raikkonen says. “Ferrari is Ferrari.I got close a few times in the McLaren. I mean yes in some people’s eyes I [could] have won three championships. I didn’t deserve it.In the end, whoever gets the most points deserves it. “Would I be happier with three championships? It makes no diﬀerence. I am happy with what I have achieved.” It felt as though F1 almost owed Raikkonen that championship– regardless of the peculiar circumstances – as payback for the disappointment and near-misses at McLaren. But although he finally conquered the world in his first season as a Ferrari driver, Raikkonen never fully established himself as the team’s number one. Raikkonen says his biggest concern before coming to Ferrari was having to adjust to Bridgestone tyres after years spent honing his car on Michelin rubber, but according to Rob Smedley – Massa’s race engineer throughout Raikkonen’s first stint at Ferrari – the tyres were “never the limiting factor” for Raikkonen during this period.“In terms of raw talent he definitely was one of the best drivers on the grid when he came to us,” Smedley says. “[But] he very much needs a particular set-up. He needs the front to work for him very positively. He turns the car in very early, a little bit like Michael, like Fernando, like Valtteri [Bottas]. They turn very early in the corner, and due to that he’s very demanding on the front-end in that phase of the corner.“He needs to start sending the car into the apex almost immediately when he starts thinking about the corner, especially in medium-speed corners. When he first came to us, it took us a longtime to understand what he wanted. “He’s the driver who, probably the most I’ve ever seen of anyone, is absolutely and entirely unfazed by rear locking at the start of heavy braking. To be able to deal with that and not to be fazed by that is something quite incredible. “We spent a lot of our time in that winter of 2007 attempting to understand how on earth he was putting the brake balance so far rearward. He was running probably 8% more rearward than Felipe and the other drivers – that’s another planet. “We were quite surprised by that, but actually what he was trying to do, in his own way, was to make the car turn as soon as he asked for it.As soon as he asked for response out of the steering, he wanted the car to turn. He had a particular way of driving the car and I think it took us a little bit of time to understand that. Once we did, we got performance from him.” But not consistently. Raikkonen was closely matched with Massa through most of 2007, but would likely have been asked to support his team-mate’s own bid for the championship had Massa not suffered a damper failure while running ahead of Raikkonen in that year’s Italian GP – and narrowly leading Raikkonen in the standings. Massa, who describes Raikkonen as “for sure one of the strangest people I’ve met”, was a fan of the Finn’s honesty as a team-mate, but rates Schumacher and Alonso higher: “Definitely Michael and Fernando were stronger – not quicker, but more complete.” The following year Raikkonen was cast into the supporting role, as his title defence fell apart amid a run of four consecutive non-scoring races in the second half of the season. Massa was unlucky not to become world champion in ’08 and was Ferrari’s leading driver through the first part of a difficult 2009 campaign too, before he suffered a terrible head injury during qualifying for the Hungarian GP. “We never were really comfortable – like if you drive and you have to try and do things that are not normal,” says Raikkonen of his first stint at Ferrari. “We never really found it and put things together. We changed the cars a little bit, but we just struggled compared to what we did in the first bit.” Raikkonen showed flashes of form in a very difficult 2009 Ferrari, which was not a strong answer to the regulatory upheaval of the previous winter. He qualified on the front row and finished third at Monaco, but he wasn’t proving so relentlessly impressive as he had done in his McLaren years– against a team-mate not rated as one of the absolute best on the grid.

“In ’08 Felipe was still in the stage of rapid improvement and overall Felipe was pretty much quicker than him, definitely in qualifying,” adds Smedley, who reckons Raikkonen’s “pure natural talent” made him better than Massa at looking after the rear tyres in races.“That was one of the things that really surprised me, because I expected him to come in and be blisteringly quick but not really manage things in such a mechanically sympathetic way, and in fact the opposite was true. One of the strengths he’s always got is that he can take the tyres further than anybody else and, wherever he goes, the team tries to exploit that.“It’s never a matter of application with Kimi – you just plug him in and he just does it. You often wonder [what would happen] if he had the level of application of others with his level of natural skill and tenacity, [but] one thing you can say about him is that he doesn’t bring any politics. The guy is absolutely apolitical.“I think that comes a little bit from not being interested in this world. The thing that is really important to him is going racing on a Sunday afternoon, qualifying, trying to be better than anybody else. And all the other periphery bits do not interest him. “And that’s kind of where he probably differs to 99.9% of the rest of us in F1. You wake up thinking about it, you go to sleep thinking about it – much to the annoyance of my wife! But that’s how we are– constantly striving to do better and be the best. I don’t think Kimi has that. I mean, he likes it here, he comes and drives his car, then he goes home, and doesn’t think about it a great deal after that.” The feeling inside Ferrari was that Massa was establishing himself as the quicker driver, and that messed with Raikkonen’s head. Raikkonen’s form certainly picked up following Massa’s accident. Kimi was on the podium at Budapest, Valencia and Monza, and beat Giancarlo Fisichella’s Force India to victory at Spa. His performances were made to look all the more remarkable by how badly Massa’s stand-ins Luca Badoer (who qualified slowest of all at Valencia and Spa) and Fisichella (who took over after Spa) struggled. But it wasn’t enough for Ferrari, which elected to pay Raikkonen out of the final two years of his contract to bring Alonso on board for 2010. Raikkonen is still guarded about the events that unfolded behind closed doors at Maranello, but says he was keen to get out of F1 in any case. “I have nothing to hide really,” says Raikkonen, who originally never planned for a long career in F1. “That’s how it played out and I was happy at that point to say, ‘OK, that’s fine and I’ll go’. Honestly, somethings happen in life and I didn’t feel bad about it. Obviously, I had a contract, but that got dealt with. They obviously wanted something else at that point, and for me that’s how it goes sometimes. I wanted to do something else anyhow.”

RETURN FROM THE WILDERNESS

Raikkonen was temporarily done with F1, but F1 wasn’t done with him. Throughout his two-year stint experimenting in the World Rally Championship, proposals were made for his return. Eventually, Raikkonen realised he missed the joy of wheel-to-wheel competition so began thinking seriously about a comeback. He held talks with Williams – “I had a meeting with Toto [Wolﬀ]; he came to my home” – and Lotus, before opting to make his comeback with the Enstone outfit.“The year before I got people asking me if I wanted to come back– there was a lot of talk but I felt if I want to come back I needed to have a current team that people will at least try to put the money into,” Raikkonen explains. “I didn’t need the money, but I wanted a car and a team that actually had some chances to do something good, rather than just being there.”Raikkonen enjoyed a superb first season with Lotus. He finished every one of the 20 races held in 2012, was on the podium seven times, and claimed a victory in Abu Dhabi – the infamous GP where he told the team to “leave me alone I know what I’m doing” over the radio while preparing for a safety car restart.Then-Lotus team principal Eric Boullier recalls a driver who was“a bit rusty over one lap” at first, but “brilliant” in the races, despite spending two seasons out of the game.“His capability and racecraft was amazing,” recalls Boullier.“The good thing for him [was] he had Grosjean near to him, and he [Grosjean] was very fast on one lap but not as good [overall].The most amazing thing about Kimi is he has a great understanding.He has a GPS in his head. He’s doing his own strategy, it’s amazing. ”Boullier recalls the 2012 Hungarian GP as the perfect example of Raikkonen’s craft, where the Finn came from the third row of the grid to beat Grosjean (who qualified on the front row) to second by saving his tyres and running longer in each stint. “You just have to guess sometimes what he wants, because he’snot the best communicator in the world,” Boullier adds. “Kimi gets quite stressed sometimes; he needs people who understand him and can handle him.“He is charismatic – actually, his charisma is strong enough to make people fans of him. What would be better would be to have more motivation to push people around him. He’s not as complete as maybe a Vettel, but he is a great driver. Some drivers need support. He’s one of the guys who can do it on his own. He’s incredibly talented.“He’s quite easy [to work with] to be honest – as long as you give him space to breathe and you’re not on his back all the time.

That was key – to let him live his life. ”Reuniting Raikkonen with Slade (who came across from Mercedes to work with Kimi again) also proved crucial in helping Raikkonen get the most from his comeback, and Lotus get the best out of Raikkonen. “When he first came back, he was really enthusiastic,” remembers Slade. “Unfortunately, he got messed around a bit on the salary side of things. That was an annoyance, but in terms of the driving, I felt he was still exactly the same. I don’t think it’s any secret that he’snot a big fan of the F1 paddock scene and the stuﬀ that goes with it.”It seemed those two seasons of F1, racing on the most extremely fragile rubber of the Pirelli control tyre era, also suited Raikkonen’s particular skillset. Often he would score a big result by making fewer pitstops than his rivals, but Raikkonen himself reckons the design of that generation of Lotus – conceived by James Allison’s team around the Renault V8 engine and exhaust-blown downforce – made more of a difference, giving him the “pure front-end” grip he needs to drive well. Whatever, the combination gelled superbly. Raikkonen added eight more podiums to his tally in 2013, winning the first race of the season in Melbourne and finishing second six times. An unfortunate retirement at Spa that year (thanks to a visor tear-off blocking a brake duct) broke an incredible run of 27 consecutive points finishes stretching back to the Bahrain GP of 2012. “He’s relentless,” says Slade. “I’d say Fernando is the closest in terms of achieving consistent results.” But into the latter part of 2013, Grosjean began to establish himself as the stronger and generally faster of the two Lotus drivers,even though he was twice defeated by Raikkonen overall in the championship. Grosjean describes Raikkonen as “the perfect benchmark” and says he learned a lot from racing alongside the Finn. “As team-mates we didn’t talk much – maybe three times in two years!” Grosjean says. “Everybody thinks he doesn’t give a shit; he actually does. He works. Same as Fernando – the only thing he thinks on Sunday is 2pm, how to get the car to where he wants it to go.“Once I had a rear soft spring for a race and Kimi tried it and liked it. He was pushing to get the springs. He was trying even though you think he doesn’t [care]. It was interesting that everybody thinks he [just] comes and drives the car and goes. He actually works. ”Their head-to-head record as team-mates is also skewed slightly by the fact Raikkonen skipped the final two races of 2013 – quitting the team over a financial dispute and electing to have surgery on a long-standing back injury, legacy of a testing accident during his first season in F1 at Sauber. “Unfortunately the whole thing [was] destroyed by people that, in my mind, were just stupid to be honest,” Raikkonen says. “They had a great thing on their hands. “It’s not my business, but I left there purely because I didn’t get paid. Without it, who knows? But then obviously I got the oﬀer from Ferrari. I never had a bad feeling with them when I left, despite people thinking that. You know how people always think it will end in a mess, but they oﬀered me a new deal and I went back.”

WHY RAIKKONEN OWES HIS SECOND F1 CAREER TO RALLYING AND NASCAR

Kimi Raikkonen’s two-year sabbatical from F1 in 2010-2011 led him to try his hand at other forms of motorsport he’d long wished to dabble in but never had the time to do so while fully absorbed into grand prix racing’s goldﬁsh bowl. Having sampled Rally Finland in the summer of 2009, Raikkonen contested most of the 2010 World Rally Championship as part of the Citroen Junior Team, and nine rounds of the 2011 championship with a DS 3 run under his own ‘Ice 1 Racing’ banner. There were many incidents, but also many top 10s. “I always wanted to try the rally stuff, because it looks so difficult,”says Raikkonen. “I wanted to see how it would go and I was happy to have the help from Red Bull to do it. I still think it’s a great sport, it’s so difficult. The problem is that it needs time – experience counts a lot more in rallying than in circuit racing.“In rallying you have to put the same effort in driving, but you [also] have to listen to your co-driver. The most difficult thing is that you have to think about what he says and then react. That takes too much time. When that starts to happen automatically then you can go faster, then it gets easier.I was close to getting to that point,then things happened and I ended up back in F1. ”Raikkonen also travelled Stateside in 2011, to try his hand at NASCAR. He contested the lower-tier Nationwide and Truck series races at Charlotte, qualifying mid-pack for his Nationwide outing.It was this experience that reﬁred Raikkonen’s enthusiasm for circuit racing and accelerated his F1 return. “Without that happening then I would deﬁnitely not be here today,”he says. “I would never have lasted this long if I hadn’t had a few years doing something else, trying things.

MARANELLO COMEBACK

It was during Raikkonen’s financial dispute with Lotus that he agreed a two-year deal to return to Maranello. Initially, it looked as though signing Raikkonen was the perfect insurance policy for Ferrari,which seemed in danger of losing Alonso after failing to carry the fight to Vettel and Red Bull in 2013. But despite publicly criticising the team and being admonished by company president Luca di Montezemolo, Alonso stayed put (for the moment) and he and Raikkonen became team-mates for 2014, as Massa departed for a fresh start at Williams. Raikkonen’s first season back at the Scuderia was a real struggle.The first year of F1’s current V6 hybrid turbo era was Ferrari’s least competitive since 1993. The car was bad, Raikkonen couldn’t adapt it to his driving style, and was demolished in the championship by Alonso, 161 points to 55. Jonathan Neale recalls how McLaren found its suspension development pulled “in two different directions” owing to Raikkonen’s demand for instant steering response from its cars, and Pat Fry, who was Ferrari’s chief engineer when Raikkonen returned in 2014, found his team coming up against an age-old problem – one exacerbated by stiff and hard Pirelli tyres that Raikkonen often struggled to get working for a single flying lap in qualifying. “He has a very smooth driving style – you’ve got to get rid of the understeer in the car,” says Fry. “You can obviously play around with suspension geometries and stuff like that to try and give him the feel,and sort out power-steering and all that stuff. ”The process was made trickier by Alonso’s long-standing presence as Ferrari’s number one driver, which inevitably led the team in a development direction that suited Alonso, before he departed for the ill-fated McLaren-Honda project.“In all the years I’ve worked with Kimi, the year I saw him struggle the most was that first year back at Ferrari,” says his long-time trainer Mark Arnall. “Coming from Lotus, where he had a good front-end on the car and had podium after podium after podium, it’s not like he suddenly forgot how to drive – he just couldn’t get a balance with that 2014 car.” But Raikkonen commanded the faith of technical director James Allison, with whom he worked at Lotus previously, and knew that he would have to play the long game at Ferrari to get back to where he needed to be.“I knew what I was getting into,” Raikkonen says. “With the engineers, I wouldn’t say they were bad – maybe the fit wasn’t what I wanted. It just didn’t work, I suppose, and our car was not very good.

“The front end has to be right there. If it’s not right, it’s not right,unfortunately. When it’s right things are very easy. Even when you have a good year, it’s a little percentage that’s perfect. There’s always something. There’s so many things that you have no control over.“Some days everything goes perfectly fine, and some days whatever you do it seems to be against you, but I’ve been long enough in the sport to know it. People look at you in one race and if you struggle they slag you off, but I’m used to it so it doesn’t bother me too much.“I want myself to do well and I know what I can do. That’s more important for me. Obviously, it’s not nice when you are in a team like Ferrari and the results are not coming, [but] I had no issues with them and I knew that things would turn out to be just fine with time. It just took some patience.” Raikkonen’s form has gradually improved since that annus horribilis, during which time the Ferrari senior management has changed, the technical structure has changed, the identity of his team-mate has changed, and so has his engineering group. Drafting in Dave Greenwood as his race engineer at the end of 2014 has made a massive difference for Raikkonen. “The car has been getting better and better every year, and a big part for me has been the people,” Raikkonen explains. “Dave is for sure one of the greatest guys that I have ever worked with. I would compare him with Slade – I very highly rate them. “For me it’s important that when we do something, everything has to be exactly like it should be. A very easy example: the ride height,if it’s [supposed] to be 20mm, it has to be 20mm; it can’t be 21mm or 19mm.“When everything is ‘close enough’, and you have five or six things like that, we all know in F1 how much difference small things make,then suddenly the lap time is not so perfect anymore.”Vettel has generally outperformed Raikkonen since arriving at Maranello in 2015, but their similar set-up demands and harmonious working relationship is helping drive Ferrari’s development in a single direction, and the Scuderia is now finally carrying the fight to Mercedes in the world championship – though it is Vettel leading the charge rather than Raikkonen. “Of all F1 drivers, he is probably closer to him [Vettel] than any of the others,” says Arnall, who arranged for Vettel to travel with Raikkonen on a private jet when Vettel was first in F1, and recalls Vettel’s rapid progression playing badminton against Raikkonen. “Kimi always liked Seb and I think Seb always liked Kimi. They are good friends – as much as you can be in this sort of environment. “The thing about Kimi is that he is not political at all, so I think to be a team-mate of, he is actually very easy as he doesn’t stir up any shit in the background – he is very transparent. Harmony in the team is something that is massively underrated. It makes a huge difference.”Paired alongside Vettel, Raikkonen’s own performances have steadily improved too, to the point where he has earned three contract extensions, which will keep him in F1 until after his 39th birthday.Questions about his ultimate speed and consistency remain, though, stoked further by occasional criticism from Ferrari president Sergio Marchionne, who has described Raikkonen as an occasional “laggard” in races. But Raikkonen’s pole position in Monaco proves he can still be faster than anyone when things are right, and his pernickety obsession with car set-up and tyre behaviour, plus the deep levels of valuable experience from F1’s tyre war era he can bring to bear in an age of severely limited testing, make him a valuable commodity, even if the price is the odd lacklustre performance.“I think Kimi is one of those guys that if he thought, ‘I just can’t drive one of these cars as quick as I used to’, he would stop,” reckons Arnall. “Kimi brings a shit load of experience,he’s very good with the development of the car, very non-political, an easy team-mate for people to have, so I think as an overall package,he is [still] very good.“I think his belief is that he can still compete near the top. He is very honest with himself – if he didn’t think that was the case, he’d stop.”Many would argue that he should have stopped a while ago, that his continuing presence on the grid, in such a coveted seat, is baﬀling when you consider he hasn’t been definitively quicker than any of his last four team-mates in F1. But what does Raikkonen himself think – does he believe he is as good a driver now as he ever was? “That’s so hard to say,” he replies. “I feel that I can drive as well as 2007 and 2001, or whatever people think has been my best ever [year]. For me, if I didn’t feel that I can drive well, or couldn’t win races or championships, I wouldn’t be here, because I don’t have interest to waste my own time and everyone else’s time. “I value my own time too much to use it on something that I wouldn’t be happy with, or that I wouldn’t think that I can actually do well. Plus, all the other people who would waste their time and money or on something that I just want to be part of. It’s not the most friendly place to be if you don’t really want to be…” That Ferrari continues to place its faith in Raikkonen suggests it feels, beyond the headline results and numbers, that he is still fundamentally among the very best drivers in the world, and that it recognises those deeper layers of style, character, substance and ability that make Raikkonen something more than the sum of his parts. He is enigmatic and mercurial, hasn’t been world champion for a decade, but clearly possesses extra qualities that F1’s biggest team finds are still worth investing in. He may lack the single-minded dedication of some of his peers,he may not be the out-and-out fastest driver on the grid anymore, he may well be too Button-esque in his over-reliance on particular car characteristics to drive quickly. He may not be as adaptable as some of his rivals, and F1 may only be a job to him, rather than an all-consuming obsession – but what’s wrong with being naturally gifted enough at your job that you don’t feel the need to take your work home with you every day?His critics will argue that’s not good enough, that Raikkonen has long outstayed his welcome. If Ferrari hands him another contract extension, they will no doubt be outraged if this enigma is given yet another lease of life. But one thing is for sure, Raikkonen will not care what they think. “I can live my life very happy,” Raikkonen says. “Obviously, my aim is to win races and I’m not happy when I’m not doing well. My biggest issue when I’m getting older is that I care too much. In the past, I didn’t care much. Now, when I have a bad weekend it’s more painful because I care more. Before it was still painful, but I got over it very quickly. “I never tried to be anything else than myself. If people like it, that’s good; if people don’t like it, that’s fine. As long as I’m happy what I’m doing, that’s my only interest. I’m not trying to please people because then I don’t live my life as I should. I live my life for myself. “I always said I have a life and that F1 is just a part of that. It’s not like F1 is all your life and then you have nothing. In my mind, I have the opposite. I mean F1, yes I love it and I enjoy doing it, but it’s not my life. My life is outside of it, and that’s how it should be.”

MARK ARNALL- RAIKKONEN’S LONG-TIME PERSONAL TRAINER

How does the Kimi of now compare to the Kimi you ﬁrst knew back in 2001?

He didn’t really care too much about the PR stuff, he wasn’t interested in that glamour side of it, being famous, I think he would much rather be anonymous! Every time he got in the car all he wanted to do was drive the crap out of it. When I started working with him, I could never imagine him being a father. Now seeing him with two kids is a phenomenal transformation. He is fantastic dad. I think all drivers, everyone learns, go through life and grow; experience teaches a lot. If you look at Kimi, the PR stuff he does now and what the sponsors say, everyone is super happy with him, and he’s got a global following of fans.

He doesn’t give much away in public; is he a shy character?

I think that mysterious side to him is intriguing for people. I don’t think he is particularly shy – the whole fan side of things,he obviously understands Formula 1, knows he is a popular driver, but it is not something he deliberately tries to play to, he just tries to get on with the job and what comes with it comes with it. One area he is very good is with kids. There was a guy who come up to me in Spa once, with this charity, to say this girl has cancer and she’d just love a picture with him or to say ‘hi’, and he spent 25 minutes sitting down and talking to her.

Is he quite a diﬃcult character to work with? He polarises opinion – some people get him and say he is brilliant,others say he is completely closed oﬀ, diﬃcult to work with…

The nicest thing I’d say about Kimi is what you see is what you get. Zero bullshit, zero politics. Kimi’s always been his own character and will always make his own decisions. He’s got a very strong head on those shoulders, so if he doesn’t want to do something, it is really difficult to get him to do it.

It sounds like he is not too demanding, quite independent and knows his own mind.

That is quite an accurate description of what he is like. I think he is probably the opposite to what most people think. If I was to describe Kimi, it would be ‘Mr 110%’. Goes into the gym and goes 110%. If he is lying on his sofa, he’ll go 110% horizontal! When he drives anything, it would be 110%, if he goes out it is 110%. I think that is just the way he lives his life.

The public persona is the ‘Iceman’: cool, disinterested, closed-off. Is he really like that?

In most situations, he is like that, but Kimi is actually a very warm, big-hearted character, and he has got a phenomenal sense of humour, but that is not really something people see. He needs to like people as well. If he doesn’t particularly like being with someone, he doesn’t do anything other than just ignore them.There is no bullshit, if he doesn’t like someone, he is quite straight about it. I think I’ve seen all the different versions of him, but I wouldn’t carry on working with him if I thought he was an arse. I actually really like him. I think he is super genuine, superkind. That is something people don’t really see so much.

#Kimi Raikkonen #raikkonen #f1 humor #F1 News #F1 #Formula One #Formula 1 #sauber #mclaren #Scuderia Ferrari #ferrari #mark arnall #mark slade

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neudachnya-blog · 7 years ago

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Heya~ I'm from Spain, and yet if I know I publish any original content and I haven't got any followers, I wanted to do this.

1.- My favourite place in my country—? Well, I haven't traveled across Spain in, like, all my life. The only places I've been in are Andalucía, Cantabria, Asturias and Galicia. The last place is the one in whose I live, and I think its a very beautiful place~ So I'll say the Sil Canon, this one place outta here:

2.- Well, I can't say I like to travel in my holidays, but that's because my family doesn't have so much money to spend in a travel. But make sure you know that, If I could go to other country and visit it, I would.

Every. Fucking. Holiday.

3.- Yes, we have! Spain is surrounded by the Atlantic Ocean and the Mediterranean Sea, two big puddles full of history. I'm not much of a beach person, but I'd like to explore the Mediterranean Sea and all the other countries that touches it.

4.- Maybe Galician Octopus????? My mother and I are more of other countries' food and pure fritanga, so that's what we eat. We are not really introduced in Spanish food.

5.- jAJAJAJAJAJAJ. I DON'T LIKE MY COUNTRIE'S MUSIC. Pure reggaeton and trap. No, thanks. We fuck up songs just translating them to spanish— but there's this one group that's... Well, passable. La Oreja De Van Gogh. Any song of them, choose one and call it my favourite song in spanish.

6.- Every song :). Despacito, maybe. Mayores, too. The kind of song that everyone in this rotten place likes.

7.- Hum... Idílico, inmarcesible and melifluo. The first reffears to something unrealistically perfect, inmarcesible is an adjective for something that can't age or fade. Melifluo is said of a voice, calm and sweet, without excessive alterations but without being monotonous.

8.- I think no??? Some people took me as Venezuelan or Argentine because I use expressions of those countries, but I think its very obvious for everyone that I'm spanish.

9.- Well, my country neighborhood is conformed of France, Portugal and Moroco, and frantically I don't feel really interested in visiting any of them. Maybe France, but idk. Now, I feel really curious about Moroco's history.

10.- ANY swear word from Latinoamerica. Specially Chile, or Venezuela. It's just— It's funny hear them talk because of their expressions, especially when they are angry, for their swear words.

11.- cARLOS RUIZ ZAFÓN. THAT MAN WRITES LIKE G L O R Y. I mean, he hasn't the most surprising imagination (That's Laura Gallego), but the words he use, the expressions, the sentences, the hidden meaning~...

12.- I usually get angry because there are some words I would translate in other way, but meh, it's fine for me. The most people reads that divine poetry or prose, the better for all of us... and you, I guess.

13.- My mother? Nah. Maybe the fact that she allows our dogs get in her bed, but nah. Maybe my dad. Always close the goddamn door (yes, it's a reference), dO NOT LEAVE THE FUCKING TABLE, WE AREN'T DONE EATING. That last one is because he thinks leaving the table without everyone being done with the food it's gross. So I have to wait twenty fucking minutes until everyone stops talking and eating :)))).

14.- Meh. Just comedy. We're not really good at this thing of filming movies or series.

15.- Maybe a joke related to politics, but I'm not really into that kind of humor, so idk.

16.- Yes, I hate this one about the bulls. It's not like we all like watching a fucking man torturing a goddamn bull. I h a t e it. And I will say that yes, we really like hugging, kissing, touching each other in general.

pD: It's said olé, not olay.

17.- No longer bitch. In the beginning, I was, but after reading a little about our kings and monuments and HISTORY IN GENERAL I was like "noup". wHY ARE ALL SPANISH PEOPLE SO DERP. CAN'T YOU RULE A FUCKING COUNTRY PROPERLY, FELIPE III. CAN'T YOU THINK A LITTLE BIT, FUCKING ISABEL.

18.- Actually, I spend so much time in the internet that I use more American expressions than Spanish ones. But I guess the "me cago en tí, me cago en todo, me cago en dios" (swear expressions) and "tío, loco, chaval" (like dude, guy, nigga) is for all life.

19.- I'm not a patriotic person at all. I have never listened our anthem, and I think our flag it's the more simple in fucking existence. Fucking rED, YELLOW, RED. NOOO. IT'S UGLY AS HELL.

20.- Football, definitely. Omg, every fucking man in Spain starts screaming "gOOOOOOOL" at the fucking middle of night when his team gets a point. :"). I hate football.

21.- Our president and our king. :). I wish they could die at once and let us live in peace. But I guess they aren't the only one bad politicians, every one in our country is a fucking rat in a suit.

22.- Proud...? The low class. How we survive to the fucking crises, to all those good placed sirs stealing our money and using it in their exclusive dinners and pointless expensive toys. Ashamed? All the other things. Especially history.

23.- Without a doubt, beer. Maybe wine for the old school.

24.- China, maybe. That's because there's a huge number of Chinese immigrants in our country. But also Mexico. Spain is really racist, and that's other really disappointing thing about us.

25.- Finland. That place has the best government I have seen in all my life. Fair and corruption-free. And if I could stay there, I would.

26.- Not really. Hollywood prefers Mexico. We are the left-behind country. And sometimes that makes me upset, because yes, we are shit, but you could talk a little bit more about us, couldn't you?

27.- Uhm... I think anyone?

28.- My region does, my country doesn't. Galicia has a lot of rivers, mountains and forests, and I really like them.

29.- Galicia vs Andalucía. Vigo vs Coruña. Since always.

30-. Actually, yes! Half the family of my dad comes from Brazil, and also there are some of our family members that are living in Venezuela.

“hi, I’m not from the US” ask set

given how Americanized this site is, it’s important to celebrate all our countries and nationalities - with all their quirks and vices and ridiculousness, and all that might seem strange to outsiders.

1. favourite place in your country?

2. do you prefer spending your holidays in your country or travel abroad?

3. does your country have access to sea?

4. favourite dish specific for your country?

5. favourite song in your native language?

6. most hated song in your native language?

7. three words from your native language that you like the most?

8. do you get confused with other nationalities? if so, which ones and by whom?

9. which of your neighbouring countries would you like to visit most/know best?

10. most enjoyable swear word in your native language?

11. favourite native writer/poet?

12. what do you think about English translations of your favourite native prose/poem?

13. does your country (or family) have any specific superstitions or traditions that might seem strange to outsiders?

14. do you enjoy your country’s cinema and/or TV?

15. a saying, joke, or hermetic meme that only people from your country will get?

16. which stereotype about your country you hate the most and which one you somewhat agree with?

17. are you interested in your country’s history?

18. do you speak with a dialect of your native language?

19. do you like your country’s flag and/or emblem? what about the national anthem?

20. which sport is The Sport in your country?

21. if you could send two things from your country into space, what would they be?

22. what makes you proud about your country? what makes you ashamed?

23. which alcoholic beverage is the favoured one in your country?

24. what other nation is joked about most often in your country?

25. would you like to come from another place, be born in another country?

26. does your nationality get portrayed in Hollywood/American media? what do you think about the portrayal?

27. favourite national celebrity?

28. does your country have a lot of lakes, mountains, rivers? do you have favourites?

29. does your region/city have a beef with another place in your country?

30. do you have people of different nationalities in your family?

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cosmicstardreamer-archive · 8 years ago

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REALLY LONG CHARACTER SURVEY. RULES. repost , don’t reblog ! tag 10 ! good luck ! TAGGED. @flareforged TAGGING. @tea-and-hexes @stayuptildawn and whoever else wants to do this!

BASICS.

FULL NAME : Nefeloma Marianela Leocadia NICKNAME : Neff/Neffie AGE : 24 BIRTHDAY : January 10th ETHNIC GROUP : First Nations; Cherokee, Latinx NATIONALITY : American LANGUAGE / S : English, Spanish, Tsalagi SEXUAL ORIENTATION : Pansexual ROMANTIC ORIENTATION : Panromantic RELATIONSHIP STATUS : Verse dependent, Canonically single HOME TOWN / AREA : Born and raised in Newark, New Jersey CURRENT HOME : Apartment complex in a nice little space pocket PROFESSION : Artist/Waitress

PHYSICAL.

SKIN : Medium/Deep in color EYES: Purple, on the lighter side. Almond in shape FACE : Rounded LIPS : Slightly plump and almost always with purple lipstick on COMPLEXION : Acne usually depends on her hormones but for the most part she takes good care of her skin. BLEMISHES : She’s got a few cause she had a habit of picking at the scars but they’re faded thanks to her taking better care of herself. SCARS : On her wrists, but faded. TATTOOS : OH BOY OKAY she has a tattoo of the Capricorn constellation on the back of her neck, A moon and star on her back right shoulder blade, a decorative arm cuff on her upper left arm [ it’s got a square maze pattern, then diamonds, and then stars at the end of beads I guess you can say? I’ll upload pics of them ] , pentagram in a circle with wings on both her wrists, many small designs on her fingers including a cross on a beaded chain on the lower and 3 dots on her upper right ring finger, a zigzag band on her lower right index finger, lower left pinkie has a band with connected U’s that have dots decorating the middle, top left ring finger is a crescent moon, top left middle is another zigzag band and 3 dots) Pics: Here, Here, and Here (Warning this one is a lil n/sfw so open with caution) HEIGHT : 5′7 WEIGHT : 170lbs BUILD : Curvy and has a little chub around her waist, but has muscles when she flexes. Hidden muscles to be honest, but not super defined. They’re just noticeable enough. FEATURES : Beauty mark under left eye, ALLERGIES : Soy beans (soy sauce is okay though) USUAL HAIR STYLE : Long hair down to her butt in a hime cut. USUAL FACE LOOK : She’s got resting bitch face man there’s literally no other way to put it. USUAL CLOTHING : This is actually verse dependent along with pre/post dependent. During her adventure she’ll be in this but post-adventure she’ll be in this.

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR / S : Being alone, being replaced, not being good enough, betrayal, being lied to, basically anything that has to do with a negative relationship with someone. ASPIRATION / S : To get married and have a family while being successful in the work business. It seems simple but it seems so hard to obtain for her. POSITIVE TRAITS : Selfless, caring, compassionate, empathetic, determined, if you need her she WILL be there. NEGATIVE TRAITS : MAN does she have a temper. She can also be very passive-aggressive, bossy, a bit of a bitch at times, easily pushes people away when she has her episodes. MBTI : The Mediator/INFP-T ZODIAC : Capricorn TEMPEREMENT : Melancholic SOUL TYPE / S : Spiritualist/Creator ANIMALS : Penguin VICE HABIT / S : Lip biting, making exagerated faces, playing with her hands/hand movements FAITH : Agnostic/Pagan. Somewhere around there. She’s more the inner soul type of spiritualist than she is the religious type. GHOSTS ? : Yes AFTERLIFE ? : Yes REINCARNATION ? : Yes ALIENS ? : Yes (She’s dating one in one verse) POLITICAL ALIGNMENT : She prefers not to get involved in politics EDUCATION LEVEL : Graduated college with a Bachelors in Fine Arts

FAMILY.

FATHER : Felipe, the man who meant the world to her. He was born in Puerto Rico and moved to America when he was still very young. A very fun loving but hard working man. He’d protect her from her mother’s outburts. MOTHER : Nadia, a mother who proved not to be much of one at all. Caused Neff a lot of stress and grief to the point of self harm and a suicide attempt after the death of Felipe. Very aggressive and has a complex. SIBLINGS : None. She’s an only child. Was supposed to have a brother but he never made it past the pregnancy. EXTENDED FAMILY : She has a lot of cousins an her grandparents NAME MEANING / S : Nefeloma is greek for “Nebula”. Marianela and Leocadia are both spanish names meaning “Beloved Star” and “Bright” respectively. HISTORICAL CONNECTION ? : N/A

FAVORITES.

BOOK : I haven’t the slightest idea to be honest. Probably the House of Night series despite how cliche and slightly embarrassing it is simply because it’s about a First Nations vampire that ties in touches of paganism and that is very much her life. MOVIE : GOSH I don’t think she has one. 5 6 SONGS : Cosmic Love by Florence + The Machine, Which Witch by Florence + The Machine, Trip The Darkness by Lacuna Coil, House of Shame by Lacuna Coil, On A Good Day by Above & Beyond, Peace of Mind by Above & Beyond DEITY : She believes that all exist honestly but her faith doesn’t really belong to any in particular. HOLIDAY : She likes Halloween and also Yule MONTH : April (showers bring May flowers and she very much loves the rain) SEASON : Spring oh my gosh she loves Spring so much. PLACE : Besides the comfort of home? Space. Any place she can see the stars. WEATHER : Rain rain rain give her rain whether it be a small shower or a thunderstorm. Otehr than that a nice crisp day, sunny but with a breeze. And those cool crisp nights where you can see the stars. SOUND : Rain, Thunder, Wind chimes SCENT / S : Lavender and Vanilla, Peach and Cherry Blossom TASTE / S : Sweet, Sour, and Spicy foods. Anything loaded with flavor. FEEL / S : Soft sheets, water trhough her fingers, a gentle caress, strong hugs, that serenity of a quiet night ANIMAL / S : She loves them all NUMBER : 24 COLORS : Purple, Blue, Black

EXTRA.

TALENTS : Painting and Singing BAD AT : Emotional Stability tbqh but it’s not like she can have that TURN ONS : Biting (especially on the neck and bottom lip), dominance fights, talk dirty to me *saxophone plays*, suits TURN OFFS : Ignorance (when chosen over learning), People treated as objects/trophies, persistence when unwanted HOBBIES : Painting and Drawing TROPES : Misery Builds Character, The Empath, Enemy Within, I Am Who? QUOTES : “I can’t tell you to remember me, but I can’t bear for you to forget me.”

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1 : if you could write your character your way in their own movie , what would it be called , what style would it be filmed in , and what would it be about ? A1 : Man I’ve always low-key dreamed about Neff having her own anime or vidja gaem but I feel like it would be called something similar to my url like Cosmic Dreamer and it would be a story about self discovery and self love. Like despite the huge thing she’s involved in that makes her very important what matters most is how she sees herself and the decisions she makes for herself you know? Q2 : what would their soundtrack / score sound like ? A2 : Man okay it’s pretty much the music player on the blog. Alternative rock, acoustic, really kind of mysterious vocals. Good stuff. Q3 : why did you start writing this character ? A3 : Neff is my baby and she stands for a lot that I think people can appreciate. She’s got a personality disorder, she’s LGBTQA+, she’s POC, she’s within all the minorities as a ‘main character’ and unapologetically so. Q4 : what first attracted you to this character ? A4 : Okay so I have an assload of OCs and originally my main fave was a character named Caprice aka Capi. She’s my oldest and longest ‘living’ OC I guess you can say. But when I made Neff she became even more of a breakthrough. Obviously there’s some bias with her being based on me and my experiences and all (even though I kinda hate myself so that’s a bit ironic), but the fact that she’s someone who does what I can’t is a healthy outlet for me for expression. Q5 : describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse. A5 : What I like most is also what I hate most and that is our similarities. Being hyper aware of your bad traits can drive you up a wall. Q6 : what do you have in common with your muse ? A6 : Neff is pretty much my life story with added tweaks to make it extra dramatic because I’m a piece of shit : D Q7 : how does your muse feel about you ? A7 : I MEAN I’D HOPE SHE LIKES ME I’M KINDA HER MOM Q8 : what characters does your muse have interesting interactions with ? A8 : I mean I think every interaction is an interesting one. Q9 : what gives you inspiration to write your muse ? A9 : A lot fo the ‘what ifs’ I ask myself with my own experiences and just things in general. Q10 : how long did this take you to complete ? A10 : Too damn long.

#the one who sees all (mun post)#finding myself (info)#holy crap this took 10ever #but this was fun #and i'm very happy with the quiz results #they're exactly what i imagine her to be so i'm glad i'm doing things right

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holding93 · 7 years ago

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Last week I wrote about the things I was looking forward to in 2018. The coming year isn’t going to be all beer and skittles though. Here are the things that are going to suck about 2018.

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Toyota is the Only Manufacturer in LMP1 at LeMans

The FIA literally wound up the proverbial creek without a paddle on this one. Two of the three manufacturer competitors in LMP1 were actually from only one manufacturer and when they got fined a literal buttload of money for being a bit funny about their gases, they had to cut out luxury and non-critical marketing. Like their very expensive LMP1 program.

The hybrid LMP1 car has effectively priced itself out of existence. The hybrid systems, especially the one on the Porsche were so complex and expensive, like Formula 1, no new manufacturer would enter in their right mind. Nissan tried and had the Honda experience, they were just smart enough to walk away when they knew they were barking up the wrong tree.

The privateer non-hybrid LMP1 teams like Manor and Rebellion are being allowed to increase the performance of their engines to match the Toyota and at least create a race of it. They’ll still be at an overall disadvantage though, because the hybrids will have the fuel economy to to an extra lap per stint a LeMans. So there’s going to be the illusion of competition that never really materialises. Because they don’t have Toytota’s budget either.

Ginetta G60-LT-P1 LMP1 car in Manor Racing livery

At least LeMans will be interesting – I mean based on form the Toyotas will gradually hand grenade themselves one by one, meaning we might see a LeMans privateer race for the win. Hell, we very nearly got an LMP2 outright winner last year, so anything could happen.

It must be said, massive respect to Toyota for sticking the course in LMP1 even though they’ve got no real competitor to race against. Here’s hoping someone else joins in soon.

Manufacturers Flocking to Formula E

I don’t know whether I like or dislike Formula E. I wanted to like it. I watched the first season. I’ve been back to watch a couple of races since. One or two of the races were even a little bit interesting. But I’ve lost interest. The exclusive use of street circuits which make overtaking tricky and the need to swap cars mid race like some uncoordinated version of a relay race just seems stupid to me.

That hasn’t deterred any car manufacturers who are flocking to the sport in droves. I should be celebrating manufacturer involvement in motorsport but here I’m not so sure. Renault has been heavily involved right from the start, being the sole supplier of the powertrains for the first season. Citroën has been involved with the Virgin team for a while and BMW have always been around the fringes supplying the safety and course cars and with influence on the Andretti team in later seasons.

Jaguar jumped in boots and all last season as the first full manufacturer entry since the inception with Renault. Except for Mahindra. Does Mahindra really count? I’m going with no.

2016/2017 FIA Formula E Championship. Autódromo Hermanos Rodríguez, Mexico City, Mexico Saturday 01 April 2017. Photo: Andrew Ferraro/LAT/Formula E ref: Digital Image _FER1992

Audi cancelled their LMP1 program to focus on Formula E with their full factory backed effort in this current season. It’s the end of the year that things really ramp up though.

The next 2018-2019 season of Formula E signifies the first major change in the car and rules. Finally, they’re going to be able to do a full race with one car. The chassis is a spec chassis. So no costly development needs to take place. The car can finally do a full race in 18/19 and I hate to say it but it looks very cool – sort of half way between a Formula 1 and LMP1 car.

Nissan are jumping in to replace sister company Renault, Porsche are in, and BMW steps up to a full manufacturer. Mercedes cancelled their DTM program to have a go next year.

While the manufacturers are free to develop their own powertrain – fantastic I say because racing will improve the electric breed – the battery is conspicuously a spec part. I fail to understand this. Surely it is battery technology that would benefit most from a development arms race. You’ve also probably heard of the company that’s supplying them too. A little crowd from Surrey called McLaren.

Is regular motorsport missing out on manufacturer involvement because they’re distracted by this electric spec-racing series barely anyone watches?

Formula 1 Politicking

The politics in the Formula 1 paddock are going to ratchet up a gear or several this year. Late in 2017 Ross Brawn announced his new consulted and thought-out engine road map for 2021 which all the engine manufacturers promptly decided to complain about.

Ferrari have threatened to leave, their default position at the start of all new rules negotiations. It’s a bluff. As Martin Brundle quite rightly pointed out in the Sky F1 Christmas Special – they don’t spend a dollar on marketing, Formula 1 does it all for them. There’s nowhere else to go for their platform. Nowhere else that provides the exposure and the fans. They just won a GT Endurance world title and who’s aware of that? Are they really going to pack up and go and race Toyota in LMP1? Or take on Honda and Chevrolet in Indy? No.

1. By S.Di Lorenzo (Own work) [CC BY-SA 3.0], via Wikimedia Commons, 2. By Embassy of Italy in the US [CC BY-SA 2.0], via Flickr, 3. By AngMoKio (Own work) [CC BY-SA 4.0], via Wikimedia Commons

Here’s a cliché – Too many cooks spoil the broth. Formula 1 has always been governed by people who kowtow to the noisy paddock influence. The paddock power brokers are already posturing like they always have in the Bernie era like there’s a negotiation to be had. Liberty are going to have to be stone cold to get to where they want to go and it certainly looks like the teams aren’t going to come there willingly. Here’s hoping they have the resolve to stay the course.

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More Formula 1 Grid Penalties

What does the FIA expect? They want to force the manufacturers down to 3 engines for an entire season – to cut costs – yet the complex engine formula is so crazy, unreliability is a given.

3 engines, sorry, power units for an entire season is just impossible to fathom. Teams used to use more than that for the just one weekend. The championship is going to be won by the team who can incur the fewest grid penalties. It makes no sense and it makes a great sport look like a farce. As Christian Horner rightly puts it – the fourth and fifth engines get made anyway. They’re still coming on the world tour. There’s no cost benefit at all. And just look at the 2017 Brazilian Grand Prix, where Lewis Hamilton had a fresh engine. It looked like he had 100 horsepower more than everybody else with their shagged out power units. After all, you can run an engine that only has to do two races a hell of a lot harder!

Mercedes AMG F1 V6 Hybrid

Renault V6 Hybrid F1

Formula 1 is has become the engineers championship and it is good management of parts lifing that wins the day. How exciting.

Has all of that got you riled up? Angry? Then lets not talk about the ludicrous amounts of money the manufacturers have had to spend just to make a racing engine that will do at least 7, yes 7 race weekends. But hey, at least they won’t have to pay for that fourth engine.

Halo

Of course this was going to get a mention on this list. Divisive. Ugly. Heavy. All things a Formula 1 car should not be.

By Jen_ross83 [CC BY 2.0], via Wikimedia Commons

Sure, sure. There’s a slim chance it might save a life. But since the death of Ayrton Senna – in which it’d have made no difference – there is one situation where the thing might have helped – the Felipe Massa spring incident at the Hungaroring.

I’d love to see some data that says otherwise but from watching the harrowing footage of Jules Bianchi’s incident there is no way a small piece of carbon and titanium would have made a scrap of difference. That was a procedural problem, there’s no way that machinery should have been in the firing line under a local yellow in those conditions. The FIA acknowleged that and now we have the Virtual Safety Car.

So the Halo isn’t really a safety device. At least not in the literal sense. The protection it offers is not for the driver, it’s for the FIA. As in, the issue of head trauma was raised so now we’ve done something about it. So now we stand a chance if we ever get sued.

Welcome to 2018.

Last week the good, this week the things that are going to suck about 2018. #h93 Last week I wrote about the things I was looking forward to in 2018. The coming year isn't going to be all beer and skittles though.

#audi #automotive #bmw #car #cars #Editorial #f1 #formula 1 #Jaguar #lemans #lmp1 #marketing #Mercedes Benz #Motorsport #nissan #racing #sustainability #Toyota

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datingadviceonreddit · 7 years ago

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If you use these skills you'll connect with people on a deeper level than you're used to.You'll learn to love talking with people, and people will love talking with you.Skill #1 - A good listener doesn't listen to respond. They listen to learn."Listening" is not just "hearing". It's asking good questions that help you understand the other person.My girlfriend told me "I don't like it when you tell me how to do things. I feel like you're judging me.""I'm not judging you." I said. "It was just a suggestion."I was not listening.Regardless of how I experienced it, her experience was that I was judging her.A bad listener focuses on explaining his own experience.A good listener focuses on learning about the other person's experience:"Which part makes you feel like I'm judging you?""Was it what I said, or how I said it?""How would you like me to make suggestions in future? Or would you prefer it if I didn't make suggestions?"A good listener improves the way he relates with the other person by learning how they think. Learning what's important to them.A bad listener learns nothing.At an interview for a sales job I was asked "How will you bring us 10 new clients in your first month?"I didn't have an answer prepared. I panicked and blurted out the usual ways of reaching new clients. It was an empty, generic answer.I was not listening. Any monkey could've rattled off that list.When the interviewer asked that question what he really wanted to know was: "Does this guy know what he is doing?"A good listener would've unpacked the interviewer's question and learned what the interviewer was looking for:"You know I haven't really thought about specific strategies. What's your biggest bottleneck right now in getting new clients on board?"A good listener aims to understand deeply.A bad listener misses the point.Skill #2 - How to quickly find common interests (not the way you're thinking)Don't get stuck in polite conversation. There's no "skin" invested in it. You've got to get at least a little bit naked (so to speak) in order to make friends with someone. Here's how you do it:We humans have just 4-8 basic emotions, depending on which study you read: joy, trust, fear, surprise, sadness, disgust, anger and anticipation. Everything we experience triggers a combination of these basic emotions. There aren’t that many combinations.We may not have experienced the same activities, but we have experienced the same emotions. So when I say you need to find common interests, I mean you need to find something that sparks similar emotions in both of you.Say Felipe is studying to be an architect, and Manuela is studying to be a doctor. Felipe doesn’t care about medicine and Manuela doesn’t care about Architecture. They ask each other polite questions:Felipe: Oh I hear you have to study for a long time to be a Doctor. How many years do you have left?Manuela: Yeah, I’ve got another 2 years. 7 total. Although you never really stop learning. What do you want to design when you graduate?Felipe: Bridges. I mainly want to design bridges. But I guess I’d be happy designing anything.Manuela: Yeah I know what you mean, I just want to graduate already as well!This is pretty boring, right? Neither of them are offering or asking for emotional information. You need to make an effort to understand them. This chitchat isn’t going to cut it.At this level of conversation they have to keep thinking of new topics every few seconds. The ideas will dry up pretty soon. This is why conversations often feel like hard work. It’s much easier to pause and explore one topic for a while.So here’s what you do...You don’t just listen to respond. You listen to understand. You go deeper.Offer your own emotional information AND dig for their emotional information. Keep digging until you understand their way of thinking. Until you feel the emotion they’re talking about. Then show them that you understand by sharing a similar experience of your own.These questions are your friends:WHAT do you like about that? WHAT made you want that? WHAT scares you about that? Essentially any question that uncovers “What makes you feel that way?” or “What makes you think that way?” WHAT tends to work better than WHY because WHAT feels like you’re curious and WHY can sometimes feel like an attack. “WHY do you like that?" “Because I do. What's your problem?!"So back to Felipe and Manuela. Now that they know how to “listen to understand”, how does their conversation go?Felipe: I mainly want to design bridges. But I guess I’d be happy designing anything.Manuela: What do you like about designing bridges specifically?Felipe: Well I haven't actually designed one yet, but for some reason I keep picturing myself standing on top of a huge bridge that I designed. I don’t know. It just makes me feel alive.Manuela: Yeah that sounds pretty cool. What do you mean by ‘alive’ though?Felipe: Hmm, well the bridge started as an idea in my head, and now I’m standing on it. It’s like having ultimate control over everything.Manuela: Oh I know that feeling! That’s how I feel when I think of saving someone’s life at the last minute in the emergency room. Boom… Doctor Incontrol.Felipe: Haha. Is that what made you decide to become a Doctor? Because you like feeling incontrol?Manuela: Yeah, I guess it is.Felipe: Wow. That’s the same reason I decided to be an architect. So does that mean you hate it when other people boss you around too?Manuela: OMG that’s the worst!! I can’t stand it when other people tell me what to do.Fun! Turns out they’re both control freaks. THAT’s their common interest. Now they can geek out on that instead of churning through countless emotionless topics that they don’t connect on.Skill #3 - How to never run out of things to sayImagine you have a conversational D-pad. It gives you something to say whenever you run out of things to say. These are the controls.Say you’re in a conversation about cars, and you don’t know anything about cars. You run out of things to say. What are your options? Here's your conversational D-pad for carsSome people prefer to zoom out. They think and talk about general things: ideas and concepts.Some people prefer to zoom in. They think and talk about specific things: details and examples.You’ve probably had conversations with people where you just don’t click with them. It could be because you prefer to zoom in and they prefer to zoom out, or vice versa.ExampleElena: How was your day?Pablo: Good. Productive. I got a lot done. How was yours?Elena: Well! When I woke up I made toast, with butter and vegemite. I left it in the toaster a little too long and it got a bit burnt, but I scraped it off with a knife and it was fine. Then I cycled to work. I went down Oxford Street this time instead of my usual route down Henry Cotton Drive because I wanted a change.My boss didn’t have anything for me to do today so I made an appointment to see the Doctor next Wednesday at 5pm and spent the rest of the day on Facebook chatting to Sofia about her baby, Ivan, who has a cold and Esteban about his new Porsche. Then I came home down Oxford Street again because it was so lovely in the morning. It wasn’t as nice in the evening. And now I’m talking to you.Pablo: So was your day good or not?Elena: I want to know what you did all day.Pablo likes ideas and concepts (zoomed out). Elena likes details and examples (zoomed in).Pablo is bored senseless by Elena’s details and Elena feels like Pablo doesn’t want to share things with her.Pablo is interested in the big picture. He wants to understand the point of what Elena is telling him. What does it mean? Did she have a good day or a bad day?Elena is interested in specifics. She wants to know what made Pablo’s day good or bad. What does he mean by ‘productive’? What did he get done?If you find yourself in a conversation that just isn’t working you might be speaking to someone who has a different zoom preference. All you have to do to connect with them is zoom in or out to match their preference.If they prefer to zoom in, give them details and examples. If they prefer to zoom out, give them the meaning behind your details and examples.If you want more info on connecting with people deeply through conversation, check out Make Real Friends: 3 Conversation Hacks You Never Knew. It's a free 10-minute guide that tells you what to say and how to say it.And if you’re serious about transforming your social life in the next 8 weeks, check out my Advanced Social Skills Coaching Program. via /r/dating_advice

#dating #dating advice #reddit

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sandranelsonuk · 8 years ago

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The 7 Fatal Mistakes People Make Selling Stuff Online

When an entrepreneur asked Mark Cuban about the secret to success in business, he fired back:

“Sales cure all.”

And he’s 100% right.

More sales means more revenue. And more revenue means you can do what you love and make a great living doing it. You no longer need to count the pennies in the couch before you make a decision.

The problem is, people often make HUGE mistakes in their quest for generating more sales…

…and I’ll reveal each of them today.

Here’s Why You Must Fix Each Of These Mistakes Today

I’m Derek Halpern, and I’m the founder of Social Triggers.

You’re here because you heard I can help you sell more, at higher prices, without ever feeling salesy.

And I can. Especially when I show you how to eliminate each of these seven deadly sales mistakes.

But don’t take my word for it…

One of my flagship training courses is known as Yes Engines, and it’s THE course for business owners who want to learn how to sell.

It’s not for sale right now, but here are the exact words from people who took the training:

“Using just the first module of the course, my wife and I landed a premium client and sold them a $1000 coaching package, earning half the price of the course right away.” – Adam Dobay

“After applying just the first module, I got 6 out of 6 of my next client conversations to buy! Our conversion rate is now closer to 3 out of 4 clients per prospect call.” – Stephanie Clairmont

“After making these small changes, we basically did 11 or 12 grand overnight, and woke up to emails of people buying…” – Daniel Daines Hutt

Now of course, these results aren’t typical. I’m only sharing them because I want to you show you one thing:

I’d rather not talk about myself and my own success, like so many other “gurus” out there. I’d rather highlight the success I’ve helped OTHER people achieve.

And that’s what makes me different.

Sure, I live in a fancy NYC apartment, with a doorman, a maid, and other cool stuff. I also work from home in my sweatpants. But the fact that I did all that for myself doesn’t necessarily mean I can help other people do it.

But the case studies that I’ll share in the next week, on the other hand, show you, “Yes, Derek can help other people too.”

That said, let’s jump into the 7 deadly sales mistakes…

Deadly Sales Mistake #1: Blame The Prospect (better known as “Bye Felipe”)

Have you ever heard the expression, “Bye Felipe?”

If not, I’ll explain. There’s a viral Instagram account known as Bye Felipe. And on it, it features conversations between men and women.

Not just any conversations though…

Apparently, when some childish, misogynist men approach women on an online dating site, and get rejected, they get hostile.

Instead of blaming themselves for saying the wrong thing, they blame the women.

So dumb.

And while we can clearly see how dumb this is, the sad truth is, business owners make the same “Bye Felipe” mistake when they sell.

Instead of looking at how they sell their products and services, they often BLAME THE PROSPECT for not buying.

And that’s the FIRST deadly sales mistake.

You see, they say things like:

“Well, they really should have bought, but they just don’t understand! They’re so dumb.”

“It’s not my product. They just lack confidence in themselves. That’s why they didn’t buy!”

“They need this. They just don’t realize it. Some day they will be smart enough to realize it!”

And sure, when we break it down, all of these things may be true…

…But it doesn’t matter.

When people don’t buy what you sell, even when what you’re selling can change their lives, it’s YOUR FAULT.

It means you didn’t make them trust you.

It means you didn’t accurately describe the benefits of what you’re selling.

It means you didn’t properly address all of their fears and concerns in your sales pitch.

And while this may be a tough pill to swallow, it’s actually kind of freeing.

When you blame yourself instead of the prospect, that gives YOU the power to make the sale on YOUR terms.

And when you know the Yes Engines system for how to do it, it’s something you can do over and over again.

But more on the Yes Engines sales system later.

Over the next few days I’ll reveal more about how to make people buy, but for now, let’s go to the next deadly sales mistake.

Deadly Sales Mistake #2: Using Gimmicks And Tricks To Make The Sale

If you’ve seen my videos, you know that I hate discounting. It eats your profits and ruins growth.

I once had another entrepreneur call me out for this. He said:

“What a load of bollocks… do what I did… DOUBLE the cost of your service and advertise it on your website at the inflated price. Then sell it on Groupon for 50% off. We sold 800 units!”

First, let’s talk about the big elephant in the room.

I got called an idiot because another entrepreneur thinks LYING to their customers is a good idea.

But that’s not even the main point.

What happens when those 800 people realize they were lied to? Do you think there’s ANY CHANCE they’ll EVER go back to your business?

No way.

Smart business owners know that it’s never about the first sale. It’s always about the first sale… and the sale after that… and the sale after that.

Even if you’re in a business that’s traditionally a one-and-done sale — like wedding photos — you’ll never generate any word-of-mouth by using these types of gimmicks.

And that’s why you should NEVER use them.

There are better ways to convert people into paying customers. You don’t have to compromise your integrity or trick people.

This is something I cover extensively inside Yes Engines. And I’ve tested it in my own business and my clients�� businesses too.

As an example, you might have heard that scarcity helps you sell more, so you think, “well, I’ll just artificially limit the number I can sell! Yea! Scarcity!”

But that’s a gimmick too.

Don’t do it. And I’ll show you what to do instead. For now, moving on…

Deadly Sales Mistake #3: Selling What You Want (Not What The Customer Wants)

When I ask business owners to tell me what they’d like to sell, they almost always lead with, “I want to sell…”

Well, here’s a little “inside information” that I’m passing on to you because you’re reading this:

When you talk about what you want to sell, you already failed.

One of the main tenants of the Yes Engines sales system is that it’s NEVER about what YOU want to sell. It’s about what your prospects want to buy.

I first stumbled on this idea in an almost 100-year-old book by a direct mail advertising guy named Robert Collier.

In it, he told the story of The Book of Etiquette. And how this book did nothing but gather dust on the shelves of some stock room.

Until one day, this guy named Nelson Doubleday brought it to life and sold a million copies.

How?

As Collier put it:

“Not, you may be sure, any wave of culture or politeness sweeping over the nation, but simply the fear aroused in the readers of Doubleday’s letters and advertisements that some unconscious gaucherie might cause them embarrassment.”

It was all in how Doubleday sold the book.

Instead of promising people a “Book of Etiquette,” he’d tell a story with a headline like:

“Why I cried after the ceremony”

“Why they all laughed at me”

“Why she blushed with shame”

And then the book flew off the shelves.

Why?

Because no one wakes up and thinks, “I sure need some more etiquette in my life.” But everyone wants to avoid embarrassment…

…and Doubleday showed people how The Book of Etiquette accomplished just that.

And that’s the secret.

Stop selling what you want to sell.

Start selling what people want, and show them how they can get it when they buy your product.

Now of course there are specific strategies for this. Some of which I’ll reveal soon. But moving on…

Deadly Sales Mistake #4: Treat All Prospects The Same

When you’re looking to persuade someone to buy, the reality is, they have all sorts of problems and objections that prevent them from buying from you.

Now, you know it’s up to you to persuade them — after all, you can’t blame the prospect — but that doesn’t change the facts.

Some people DO lack confidence, some people DO procrastinate, and it’s your job to help them overcome these issues.

Here’s the problem…

When you’re dealing with someone who lacks confidence in themselves, you would say something different than when you’re dealing with someone who lacks confidence in you.

And the reality is, most people who start selling their products and services for the first time — especially online — don’t do this.

They just talk to everyone as if they’re the same person and that’s a HUGE MISTAKE.

You see, you will encounter people in your business who should buy, could buy, but for whatever reason, aren’t buying because of some little hang up.

I call these people The Sideliners.

(They’re on the sidelines between “buying” and “not buying.”)

And in my experience, the reason why they’re not buying is one (or all) of these 4 reasons:

They don’t care enough. They’re skeptical of you. They’re worried about their own abilities. They’re procrastinating.

As you might expect, addressing each of these concerns requires you to talk differently.

This is tough when you’re selling online — where it’s a one-to-many sales scenario — but it’s not impossible.

I show you what to do inside Yes Engines and in the remainder of this free series on selling.

So keep reading…

Deadly Sales Mistake #5: “My Work Speaks For Itself”

People actually believe this. And every time I hear someone say it, I want to run around and hit my head against hard things.

Because I’ve done the research. The same people who say it are having a hard time showing people why they should buy what they’re selling. Here’s an example:

“I am a professional photographer and my work speaks for itself, but when I open my mouth I have a hard time closing the sale! Those that I have worked with, however, LOVE the product and experience.”

Interesting, right?

Some people buy and love it, but what about the rest of the people?

Why is it so hard to encourage people to buy what you sell if what you’re selling is so great?

When Ralph Waldo Emerson said:

“Build a better mousetrap and the world will beat a path to your door.”

He was right… but he said that a century ago!

The world has changed.

Now you need a better mousetrap, and you need the ability to show people why it’s better, why it’s important to start using your mousetrap now (instead of the other mousetraps), and why they’re crazy for not using it.

If you JUST create an awesome product, or offer great services, and leave it up to your consumers to convince themselves that it’s right for them, sure, you may get some sales. You may even have a profitable business.

So, I understand why people who believe “my work speaks for itself” believe it.

But how many bad products do you see selling well? That’s because having a great product is only one part of the equation.

The next part of the equation is the ability to sell that product. In my experience, having a great product and selling it well has a 1 + 1 = 3 effect on your business.

You may be confident in your ability, but there are people out there who aren’t.

Let’s say you’re selling a fitness product. Everyone knows there are people who know they should exercise more, but for whatever reason they don’t.

Why not?

Because they might have a psychological block. They might think, “I’m not the type of person who can exercise. I’m just unhealthy and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

Deep down, you know they’re wrong. You know exercising could potentially help them. You can tell them that until you’re blue in the face, but it’s not going to do anything to move them to take action.

And that’s why you’d be an idiot for “letting your work speak for itself.”

Now this doesn’t mean you have to be one of those snake oil salesmen. There is a GREAT way to sell (without being salesy).

And it’s something I reveal in detail in my training called Yes Engines.

But let’s talk about the next mistake…

Deadly Sales Mistake #6: The “Surprise” Product Launch

Let me paint a picture for you:

You work on putting together a new course that you want to sell. You make all the finishing touches, and you’re proud of your work.

So, you fire off an email to your email list (or post on social media)…

“Hey everyone, I’m so excited! I Just put together this new product and you should buy it right here!

Now I know you probably won’t write those exact words. But the point is that you work on a product, and then when it’s time to announce it, you just announce it.

Be honest:

Have you ever done this?

Yes, right?

Well, here’s the problem:

This is a BIG mistake. Selling successfully is about building anticipation as much as it’s about delivering a great product.

You have to make people want what you’re selling BEFORE you start selling it.

You have to address the Sideliners so that when you do finally announce your product or service, they’re ready to buy.

And when you do it the right way, you can create a FLOOD of sales you would have never have seen otherwise.

Now this doesn’t mean you should HYPE your stuff up.

But you do need to tell people something is coming BEFORE it’s coming, so that they can begin thinking about whether or not what you plan on selling is right for them.

Heck, look at this ebook. I’m giving you valuable advice, and I know you’re digging it because you’re reading this sentence right now, but you might also notice that I plugged the fact that I have an in-depth course on selling called Yes Engines.

It’s not for sale right now, but I’m sure you know it’s coming. And that means I’m doing my job the right way.

Now of course you can’t just share “ANYTHING.” There’s a specific formula to follow when building anticipation for the product you’re about to release…

…and that is something I’ll cover more in this series and inside the training course Yes Engines.

For now, let’s move to the last deadly sales mistake.

Deadly Sales Mistake #7: Ignoring Your Sales Process

Believe it or not, there are some people who ignore learning how to sell. They say, “Well, That’s just not me,” and they bury their heads in the ground.

But this is a mistake. A BIG mistake.

I’ve been building businesses online for the last 10 years.

And over time, I’ve seen people start businesses, get successful, and then fade away.

Why?

Some people get early success, and then they stop learning.

They think they don’t need to consistently invest in themselves (or their businesses), and they use their current success as justification.

But what they don’t realize is that they’re starting on a path towards disaster.

Today, the people and companies that do well — and keep doing well — focus on creating great products and services…

…and they have great salesmanship to match.

That’s how you get the 1 + 1 = 3 effect on your business.

And the reality is this:

No matter what stage of business you’re in, you MUST learn how to sell.

It’s an urgent need.

As I said to start this little ebook off, Mark Cuban said, “Sales cure all,” and he’s right.

Each month, my email marketing bill costs around $4,000.

YES, AROUND $4,000 JUST TO SEND EMAIL TO YOU.

That’s why I laugh when I see people complain about the $15 per month a company like AWeber charges.

You see, you wouldn’t be looking to save $15 per month if you had sales coming in. That $15 per month won’t even be on your radar.

Just run the numbers…

What if you pick up a new way to approach selling in your business… and you land an extra sale, or two, or three?

If you’re selling expensive web designs that cost $5,000 or more, learning to sell can literally pay for itself.

And in some cases, that’s exactly what happened.

Here’s a quote from a Yes Engines member:

“After only applying a handful of Yes Engines techniques, one prospect I was talking to signed up for my most expensive program. In other words, this course paid for itself!”

Now, Yes Engines isn’t for sale right now.

But you need to make a commitment to yourself. If you plan on building a successful business, “selling” isn’t something you learn later. It’s something you learn right now.

You Know My Full Story… But This Is The Secret Behind The Success

I started Social Triggers in 2011. And within 5 short years, it turned into a multi-million dollar business.

How?

I believe one of the main reasons why I was able to grow so fast, and so efficiently comes down to one little fact: when I got started, I knew how to sell.

This means, I knew how to attract the right people that wanted to buy. It means I knew how to persuade those people to buy. It means I knew how to bring revenue in the door… and that’s what I did.

And while this is great for me, selling effectively changes lives.

I started my business because I wanted to change lives. But as I mentioned earlier, people have different things holding them back from wanting to change their own lives.

When you know how to sell the right way, you can help people get out of their own way. You can help people make lasting change in their lives…

…and of course, you can be rewarded for it.

So, start by eliminating each of these deadly sales mistakes…

…and keep watching for more emails from me in the coming days.

For now…

I’d like to you leave a comment and share with me one simple thing:

How important is generating more sales and customers to you?

On a scale of 1-10.

How important is it?

And…

What impact would it have on your life and business?

Be honest with yourself.

Over the next week I’ll share with you some things I learned about selling products and services online…

…and some of it may go against everything you may have seen (or learned) before about selling.

I’d like you to keep an open mind, and focus on how it impacts you directly. So, let’s get clear on that right now.

How important is it?

And what kind of impact would it have?

Reply right now.

And look for another email from me soon.

from Julia Garza Social Media Tips http://feeds.socialtriggers.com/~r/SocialTriggers/~3/P8Mmnsu9jKk/

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laurendcameron · 8 years ago

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The 7 Fatal Mistakes People Make Selling Stuff Online

When an entrepreneur asked Mark Cuban about the secret to success in business, he fired back:

“Sales cure all.”

And he’s 100% right.

More sales means more revenue. And more revenue means you can do what you love and make a great living doing it. You no longer need to count the pennies in the couch before you make a decision.

The problem is, people often make HUGE mistakes in their quest for generating more sales…

…and I’ll reveal each of them today.

Here’s Why You Must Fix Each Of These Mistakes Today

I’m Derek Halpern, and I’m the founder of Social Triggers.

You’re here because you heard I can help you sell more, at higher prices, without ever feeling salesy.

And I can. Especially when I show you how to eliminate each of these seven deadly sales mistakes.

But don’t take my word for it…

One of my flagship training courses is known as Yes Engines, and it’s THE course for business owners who want to learn how to sell.

It’s not for sale right now, but here are the exact words from people who took the training:

“Using just the first module of the course, my wife and I landed a premium client and sold them a $1000 coaching package, earning half the price of the course right away.” – Adam Dobay

“After applying just the first module, I got 6 out of 6 of my next client conversations to buy! Our conversion rate is now closer to 3 out of 4 clients per prospect call.” – Stephanie Clairmont

“After making these small changes, we basically did 11 or 12 grand overnight, and woke up to emails of people buying…” – Daniel Daines Hutt

Now of course, these results aren’t typical. I’m only sharing them because I want to you show you one thing:

I’d rather not talk about myself and my own success, like so many other “gurus” out there. I’d rather highlight the success I’ve helped OTHER people achieve.

And that’s what makes me different.

But the case studies that I’ll share in the next week, on the other hand, show you, “Yes, Derek can help other people too.”

That said, let’s jump into the 7 deadly sales mistakes…

Deadly Sales Mistake #1: Blame The Prospect (better known as “Bye Felipe”)

Have you ever heard the expression, “Bye Felipe?”

If not, I’ll explain. There’s a viral Instagram account known as Bye Felipe. And on it, it features conversations between men and women.

Not just any conversations though…

Apparently, when some childish, misogynist men approach women on an online dating site, and get rejected, they get hostile.

Instead of blaming themselves for saying the wrong thing, they blame the women.

So dumb.

And while we can clearly see how dumb this is, the sad truth is, business owners make the same “Bye Felipe” mistake when they sell.

Instead of looking at how they sell their products and services, they often BLAME THE PROSPECT for not buying.

And that’s the FIRST deadly sales mistake.

You see, they say things like:

“Well, they really should have bought, but they just don’t understand! They’re so dumb.”

“It’s not my product. They just lack confidence in themselves. That’s why they didn’t buy!”

“They need this. They just don’t realize it. Some day they will be smart enough to realize it!”

And sure, when we break it down, all of these things may be true…

…But it doesn’t matter.

When people don’t buy what you sell, even when what you’re selling can change their lives, it’s YOUR FAULT.

It means you didn’t make them trust you.

It means you didn’t accurately describe the benefits of what you’re selling.

It means you didn’t properly address all of their fears and concerns in your sales pitch.

And while this may be a tough pill to swallow, it’s actually kind of freeing.

When you blame yourself instead of the prospect, that gives YOU the power to make the sale on YOUR terms.

And when you know the Yes Engines system for how to do it, it’s something you can do over and over again.

But more on the Yes Engines sales system later.

Over the next few days I’ll reveal more about how to make people buy, but for now, let’s go to the next deadly sales mistake.

Deadly Sales Mistake #2: Using Gimmicks And Tricks To Make The Sale

If you’ve seen my videos, you know that I hate discounting. It eats your profits and ruins growth.

I once had another entrepreneur call me out for this. He said:

“What a load of bollocks… do what I did… DOUBLE the cost of your service and advertise it on your website at the inflated price. Then sell it on Groupon for 50% off. We sold 800 units!”

First, let’s talk about the big elephant in the room.

I got called an idiot because another entrepreneur thinks LYING to their customers is a good idea.

But that’s not even the main point.

What happens when those 800 people realize they were lied to? Do you think there’s ANY CHANCE they’ll EVER go back to your business?

No way.

Smart business owners know that it’s never about the first sale. It’s always about the first sale… and the sale after that… and the sale after that.

Even if you’re in a business that’s traditionally a one-and-done sale — like wedding photos — you’ll never generate any word-of-mouth by using these types of gimmicks.

And that’s why you should NEVER use them.

There are better ways to convert people into paying customers. You don’t have to compromise your integrity or trick people.

This is something I cover extensively inside Yes Engines. And I’ve tested it in my own business and my clients’ businesses too.