#and later when hes searching for reasons to make marc the bad guy. well.

[moonshynecybin]

Do think vale said he thinks the sabotage from Marc began in 2013 at Leguna Seca so he would sound less insane in his theory he’s like look I’ve thought this for age it must be right.

i think the laguna seca comment is so crazy for manyyyy reasons. like yes he is being delusional and yes i do think he was a little uncomfy with it in the moment in 2013 bc marc won against him doing a punk ass move BUT he couldnt exactly raise a stink about bc its HIS famous move. irritating for competition and ego reasons as it was a very glaring reminder that uh. its MARC'S time to shine old man. i am you as you were back when you could do this shit get ready. BUTTTT i also think he liked marc enough in 2013 to mostly ignore that and make it a fun joke! choke him in parc ferme, give him some shit in the presscon, re-affirm that i did it first and better, and move on. which couldve been the end of it. EXCEPT:

where i actually think that comment gets its legs is from is ASSEN 2015, where they had a very similar on track moment where vale overtook marc off track and won against marc on the last lap. and instead of being #cool #chill and #hot about it, marc asked honda to lobby with race direction. which is where we get this iconic photograph... and yes! they were still very jolly in the post-race presscon/parc ferme and re-affirmed their friendship, but they DID disagree about it. and when vale like. specifically brought up laguna seca as a direct comparison, marc said ummmm no. i think i deserved to win this race. which EYE IMAGINE for vale was a hard pill to swallow considering he (very graciously in his eyes i think) was very nice about marc doing the same thing to him two years ago and even defended him to the press! so its less about sabotage and more about looking at marc and thinking. you steal my move and then when i do it to you a few years later you say that in your mind you won this race ???

#and later when hes searching for reasons to make marc the bad guy. well. #marc also said a lil later that his fav race of the season was assen. bc hes crazy and is not aware of the great white shark behind him #callie speaks #motogp #asks #rosquez

[zombiejoepino]

The Scavenger. CH: 3 (Cobb Vanth x OC fanfic)

Chapter 3: The Search 

simpFandom: The Mandalorian

Word count: 3636

Summary: Plog is searching from town to town for anything related to the missing Scavenger. The Marshal finds she is gone already.  

A/C: If you havent read the first parts, they are here and here. Also you can check them on my wattpad 

"I'm telling you, this is too much. I'm not paying for that piece of trash." The pale hooded man rose his arms and signed at the tiny hooded figure.

The Jawa just shook his arms and argued back that it was a fair price. It might be an old speeder but it works. He was trying to explain and then folded his arms, telling him to take it or leave.

Plog just frowned for a moment and handed him the bag with credits. The Jawa took the time to count it and shook his hand. He steps aside to let him check the old imperial speeder. The weapons were down but, it moved. For him, it looked like they put together whatever they found and just label it as imperial to get a fair price.

He muttered in his language and took off in the speeder.

He didn't like Captain Qod that much, yet, it meant protection for him. His gambling habits got him in a lot of trouble, Qod stood up for him in exchange for information. Plog was useful and sneaky to get intel from strangers or anyone. He knew everything about the town, what kind of drink you like, how many Hutts went around before they were all gone, even knew about the lone Jedi that years before helped that farm boy. He never saw them again.

Now, he was just an errand boy, looking for two bounty hunters and their prey. Probably they killed each other and tried to take the canister, who knows. There was a small chance that the woman was dead already. After all, it was the Captain's words to bring her dead or alive, he didn't care, he wanted back was his prize.

Plog wasn't exactly loyal to anyone but, he owed Qod, and the man was good at finding traitors and take them down personally, like the time he just threw one of his crew members out of the ship cause he giggled about his heist plans. Qod didn't like pranksters or jokers, he was serious with his matters. He had little tolerance for stupidity but, Plog a lucky card, he was silly and clumsy, yet, he was useful.

The first stop would be nearby towns, asking the right folks about two lousy hunters wouldn't be so hard. Those two weren't exactly low profile. They were loud, show-offs, always trying to demonstrate how strong they were, picking fights cause they could, ally with other hunters that were stupid enough to trust them and take the bounty from them. No honor amongst thieves.

But those stops would be useless. If those two are on the run, they would go to Mos Eisley's spaceport and take passage with anyone, leave with the canister forever. He hated the whole road to Eisley cause that meant problems; dust, Tusken Raiders, and long cold nights in the middle of nowhere. He loved the comfort and the luxury in the city that he disliked those dead areas and sleeping in the ground. That annoyed him the most.

...

The sunbeam made its entrance through the thin curtains aiming right at his face. The first rays were warm but not burning ones like the mid-day ones. He opened his eyes and quickly scanned the area. He studied the dirty white walls and dusty ground, the armor placed in a chair next to a helmet.

Cobb sat up and stretched a little. He had no idea how long he slept but it was time to start his duties. An idea bolted in his head and made him rushed to the room.

It was empty.

He sighed and shook his head, looking around last night's disaster; shattered glass on the floor, the bloodied and dirty bandages. He rubbed his temples to think.

Maybe it was the best if she was gone but he felt responsible for the girl. He was not a smooth-talker with strangers and worst, with women. He was rough with her and pushed too much. He didn't even ask if she was feeling better.

When you corner an animal, they jump on you, he thought. No reason why the girl snapped at him.

Cobb picked up the glasses and bandages, putting them into a small bin. Then, he fetched a clean shirt and tossed away the dirty one. He ran his fingers through the primitive like star-shaped scar with dots and hashes on his back. He hated every side of it, what it meant but, it was a reminder to keep fighting.

A knock at his door interrupted his thoughts and rushed to put on the long-sleeved shirt. By the entrance, there was a slim guy with a hat and big rounded shades. He had small scars over his cheeks. When the Marshal stepped out, full armor and everything, he waved at him.

"Morning Marshal! How was last night's watch?" Marc flashed a friendly smile and shook hands with him.

"Nothing new, son. Creatures chasing each other. Not sign of the Dragon yet." Cobb adjusted the crimson bandanna across his neck.

"That must be a good sign, right? Maybe it's gone."

"Or just hunting somewhere else. Anyway, is the list ready?"

Both men walked together across the town making their way towards the bar. Cobb could hear Marc talking but was not paying too much attention, he kept wondering if the stranger was gone, maybe lost in the dunes, limping away from Sand People, or worst, found by the large Dragon.

His mind kept drifting. He thought about his time as a slave, how the women had it worst than anyone. He hoped that The Mining Collective or the Red Key Raiders wouldn't find her. The whole idea of what they do to young girls just made him sick.

He felt bad for thinking that and worst for not being able to help her. Damn, he wished she would listen to him and understand he had no shady intentions.

"And we need fuel." Marc's voice finally made some sense and snapped the gruesome thoughts in the Marshal's head.

Cobb frowned thinking about it and he started to nod. Marc rose a brow noticing the lost gaze and rephrased again.

"For the speeders. And extra for the young lady, your guest."

"My guest?" Cobb said.

"Aye, she got up early. Limped around and waited for the old Weequay to open the joint."

Cobb tried to act as cool as possible and told Marc to look for him later. He would fetch a soup and get them ready to go. The Marshal made his way into the joint and scanned the area looking for her.

The young redhead was near the counter having lunch; blue milk and slices of Ahrisa. She dipped the bread in the liquid and took a small bite. She finally looked at the Marshal but didn't say much. Just gave him a slight nod.

Cobb tried his best not to smile, he was glad that she was still around.

"Everything ok, Marshal?" Weequay spoke at him while he poured down a drink and slid a wooden bowl for him.

The Marshal nodded, gulped down his morning drink, and then took the bowl. He noticed the bartender's uneasy eyes when he looked back at the young redhead.

"Is it safe to keep her around?" The old one lowered his voice.

"Just for a few days, pal. Let's give her a break." Cobb sipped from the bowl.

Nath just kept her gaze down her plate and didn't dare to look back at the armored man. She was shamed about her behavior but was too proud to apologize. She heard his footsteps approaching her and looked up at him.

"Thought you were gone." He flashed a pearly smile.

Nath just shrugged and looked away. "I was about to but I was hungry, so, I hopped my way out and got here."

"You know you could ask for help, kid."

"You seemed tired. I don't wanna give you much trouble." She took another bite from the bread.

"How's the leg?"

"Better, it hurts at times but it's not that bad."

"Good. I'll bring more bacta spray then."

"Going somewhere, Marshal?"

"Out of town to get supplies. Do you need anything?" He placed the bowl on the table like he was about to sit down with her. He gave it a second thought and stood still.

"Just the fuel. I was hoping to put together a speeder with whatever was left from the crash."

"Whatever you were riding is gone. The rest is with us."

"Are they working properly? Maybe I can check them for you cause I took some pieces from them." She tried to stand up but the leg stung at that moment. She cursed quietly and sat back.

Cobb chuckled and placed his hand over her shoulder while looking at her.

"Don't sweat about it, kid. I'm sure they are ok" He reached the bowl and sipped it while reading out her expression. She didn't say anything but after giving it a long thought, she nodded at him.

"Well, you should trust me on this. They are gonna break down before you exit the town." She took another bite.

...

The streets were packed with junk dealers and other black-market folks, trying to shove you whatever piece of trash droid or strange food they had around. Plog just kept walking between them, trying to keep them away from his pockets.

He wasn't exactly a flashy man but, these lowlives can't tell the difference and are willing to steal anything they can find.

The pale man was uneasy for parking the speeder outside the dirty joint, Jawas or other scavengers always stopped long enough to take a piece or two. If he needed intel about the bounty hunters' whereabouts, that was the only place where he could go.

A smoky atmosphere crashed his face, followed by music and indistinct conversations between the folks around. Some helmets looked back at him, just checking the new stranger. Others just ignored him, no one started for too long.

Plog just moved around to catch up with the Zabrak bartender. He had mean looks, a horned head but quickly asked him if he needed a drink. Plog slid the credits on the counter and, the Zabrak took them fast.

"What are you looking for?"

"More like who. I dunno if you saw these guys around." He took out a puck that flashed the hologram of the two bounty hunters. The Zabrak examined the blueish image and made a face.

"Yeah, those two were around a couple of nights ago. They go around like bounty hunters but ain't exactly from the Guild. They got a reputation for joining bounty hunters from the Guild in their quests. When they have the proper opportunity, they shot down the Guild member and take the puck. It worked the first two times but those two are stupid. While they were drunk, they didn't stay quiet about their achievements and got The Guild's attention. There's a price for their heads so, my best guess is that they must be dead by now."

"Do you know who they were tracking the last time?"

"Some old Quarren."

"Did you see a woman or someone else with any of them?" Plog said.

"Not, I mean, the Quarren met with different people that day, all of them male. He even cut a deal with a scavenger." The bartender paused while his thoughts drifted for a moment.

"Now that I think about it, I can't tell if it was a woman or not. He or she wore a long tunic and mask. But I remember that scavenger cause those two followed him after taking down the Quarren. It was strange they just left him there to follow him or her. "

"Anything peculiar about the scavenger? Did they come back?"

"I haven't seen them after that day and the scavenger, I didn't pay much attention, you know how they are. Carrying trash bags, stealing whatever they can. Arguing with Jawas. Nothing else." The Zabrak poured himself a drink and shrugged. "Maybe talk to the Jawas." He joked.

"Yeah, right. They are gonna rip me off." Plog shook his head and left the counter. He was running out of ideas.

...

Her body plopped under the biker speeders, checking the cable hitches, patching up the fuel tube, and reached a small screwdriver from her bag as she adjusts the loose shift gear. Fixing things always made her feel better in any situation. She didn't mind the heat, the sweat, or the oil stains on her clothes. What mattered to her was making the speeder work.

Basic 101 for scavengers was being able to take someone's trash and turn it into a decent vehicle. Stealing was allowed if you didn't get caught. Cantinas were the best place to wait for your next hit. There is always someone that gets too drunk and passes out in the middle of the street.

That was the chance to take the finest pieces fast as you could before others showed up. It was a never-ending battle with Jawas. They were always in groups and worked faster, but if a human was smart enough, it would take the best parts first and leave the rest for the little scoundrels.

Nath didn't think of herself as the best mechanic from her town but, she was a pretty decent one. She kept a low profile most of the time and no one bothered her when she put together speeders or podracers, only if they paid a fair price.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the approaching footsteps and a voice.

"Thirsty?" He spoke and stopped next to the bike. The Marshal looked down at the curious woman and shook a small bottle with water.

"You bet but, I wanna finish this." She peeked out to look at him and return her attention to the bike. Her hand tried to reach a wrench.

"You should take a break, kid." The Marshal lowered down to hand her the wrench and smiled at her.

She puffed her cheeks and rolled her eyes. "Told you, I'm not a kid." She took the tool from his hands. Seconds later, her hand reached out of the bottle.

"Where did you learn to do this?" His eyes studied the bike and the tools around the ground, followed by small pieces from other ships or speeders.

"I was raised by scavengers, learned a few tricks from pilots, and picked one or two things from Jawas." Nath sipped the water. This weather was unbearable at times.

"Ever thought about starting your shop?" He kept examining the items around and, picked something that looked like a knife. It had old blood or oil stain. He couldn't tell by the color.

"It crossed my mind but I didn't worry too much when I worked f..." and she paused before she gave away something else. "Business is hard, you gotta commit yourself to one place and it's not my style."

"Staying in one place is not that bad, at least you can call it home." He shrugged and looked at her working.

"I'm not sure about that. I've been moving around since I was a kid, so home is not exactly something I look for."

"We all need one at some point."

"Not when you are being hunted down." She muttered to herself and tried to change the conversation. "What about you? Why Marshal and not bounty hunter if you have that armor?"

"Long story. But killing for pleasure is not my thing." He admitted.

"And killing in the name of the law is?" She chuckled.

There was a small silence, Cobb kept a serious expression and smirked.

"If they pull, I put them down." He said.

"So, you made your own rules for this town?"

"There's not much to follow, just don't step over your neighbor kinda thing. We look after each other."

"That's interesting. From where I come from, you have to watch your back all the time. I guess that's why I'm not made for places like this."

"You can't tell if you haven't tried it"

"Are you asking me to stay, sir?"

"I'm just saying."

"Sure." She flashed her tongue at him and kept her head down under the bike. Then she groaned when the oil leaked down her clothes and hands. "Dank farrik!" She yelled.

The Marshal chuckled and shook his head. He reached for an old rag to hand it to her. She snatched it from his hand to clean her dirty face.

He couldn't help himself to think that she looked cute with the dirt and oil stains across her fair skin and flushed delicate face. The contrast between those two ideas got him thinking but scratched the idea off his mind when the pale gaze met his.

Her eyes had a peculiar way to look at someone. This time they were friendly, curious about him, unlike last night. He swore that those soft blue eyes were cold and sharp with him, just like ice or whatever it looks like. He never got the chance to leave this planet, but he knew stories about those other worlds and snow.

Nath crawled out from under the bike and thumbed up at him.

"Ready to go, Marshal." She smiled at him.

"Thanks. And you can call me Cobb, you know."

"Well, I like calling you Marshal." She teased him. Cobb chuckled and held out his hand to help her.

She pulled herself up with a swift move but bumped her chest with him. His first reaction was to hold her still and not let her fall. She rested her hands over his chest. Their gazes lock for a moment and they froze right there.

Being close to him allowed her to see his features a little better. Even though his hair was grey already, he didn't look old. She thought that he was trying to look older than he was. She found herself studying his features again. Even breathing was something she didn't dare to do.

Cobb noticed a few looks from the locals and quickly moved his hands away to give her space.

"Good work, kid. I think the boys and I are ready to go." He excused himself and smiled at her.

The redhead smiled back, dusted off the sand from herself, and took the bottle from the ground. She took a large sip to refresh from the heat.

...

The tiny hooded figure just kept studying his speeder and nodding vigorously. He signed those pieces he wanted and, Plog just rolled his eyes. He looked around many times, making sure no one else was watching him with the group of Jawas and took out the small puck. He displayed the image of Nathsca and, they yelled gibberish in anger.

His jawaese was pretty bad yet, he understood briefly that the woman was around taking what rightfully belonged to them, that she had no reason to be a scavenger. They saw her taking off. She left behind most of her belongings but, she clung to an old silver canister. They wanted the canister. It was shiny.

Plog shook his head at them and quickly kept the puck back in his pockets. He paid the tiny hooded figures and pushed them away from his path. Some of them cursed at him but picked the pieces they wanted from the speeder.

A Jawa rushed after him and pulled his sleeve, Plog looked quite annoyed and folded his arms. "What now? I told you, anything you want but It needs to keep working."

The Jawa shook his head and signed at him while he whined. Plog squinted his eyes, listening to with attention, trying to put together all the ideas but he was pretty sure what the tiny one just told him. This was the first time that he met a Jawa that wanted something for himself.

"Off the map, you say?" He lowered to his level. The Jawa nodded as it explained quietly about the lost sandy areas in the west, an old mining place near a small town called Mos Pelgo. People thought it was gone, but this little guy saw the town; just farmers. When the speeders chase down the young scavenger, they were on the path to this town.

Plog slid a bag with credits for the little Jawa that rushed back with his kin but kept the bag for himself.

West. The unexplored dead area. He would go and tell the Captain with the risk of finding lone and empty dunes, taking the risk of getting attacked by the sand people, or worst, a Krayt Dragon. Qod was way scarier than the dragon. The dragon would eat you and, that was it. Qod would take his time to torture you before killing you.

The pale man jumped back in his speeder. He needed to get supplies, fuel, and a blaster. He thought about bringing muscle but, it was hard to trust anyone these days. Lone dunes or not, he was not gonna let some stranger or sand people take advantage of him. Shooting first and fast. Basic survival skills. He gave a second thought about bringing muscle.

tagged for the readers and thanks for reading too :3 : @simpfields @fandoms-will-be-the-death-of-me @sithcajunvalkyrie  @qrangcr  @rachel2003 @wolfangelwings @storytellerandwriter25  @beyond-antares @youmademeanolyphant  @kenobilover1009 

#cobb vanth #cobb vanth x oc #cobb vanth fanfiction #cobbvanth

[duker42]

Ooh, how about where Marc and Liam ask how Levi met his s/o? Like they were all having a lazy day and they asked him the question.

I love this!!! I enjoyed imagining how they met soooo much.🥰🥰🥰🥰

💜How We Met💜

Y/N and Levi looked at each other as they heard the question posed by their children. It was one they had expected at some point in time.

“How did you and Daddy meet?” Liam had asked as him and Marc were on the floor, playing a game.

They had been drinking coffee and talking quietly as the kids played, enjoying the day together.

Levi had been mildly dreading this conversation. They had never exactly hidden Levi’s past from the kids, but had never really gone into the specifics of his life of crime before becoming the respectable citizen he was today.

He didn’t want his kids to be ashamed of him, nor did he want them to even possibly follow him down that dark path. Never wanted them to think that because their father had done it and come out clean that they could.

He looked at Y/N for help, but she just nodded at him. She had told him that the kids would be proud of him for overcoming his past and becoming the man they knew and loved today. That he had nothing to worry about, to just tell them the truth. Y/N had always found it funny how she had met the love of her life.

“Ummm. Well....You know that I wasn’t the most respectable guy when I was younger.” Levi began. Both boys stopped playing their game and looked up at their dad, their eyes eager as they listened.

Y/N laughed lightly beside him, making him throw her is disgruntled look as turned back. “I had done something I shouldn’t have and was running from the po...running to get away. They hadn’t seen my face, so I had tried to meld into a crowd of people.”

Y/N smiled as she remembered the first time she had seen Levi. He had run right beside her and was looking around. His eyes were cool but alert as he saw the police searching for him. He was obviously trying to avoid them, and was soon running out of options.

“Hey babe, I’m cold. Give me your jacket, please?” Y/N could see the shock in his eyes as she moved to take the jacket off his body. She slipped the warm coat on her frame and pulled him close and turned her back to the police.

She had her hand on his cheek as he was watching the cops with narrowed grey eyes as she took in his handsome features. He was taller than her barely, but his frame fit hers so nicely as she pressed against him.

He was breathing a bit harder that he was before she had moved nuzzle against his neck as he leaned his head down against her shoulder. Y/N smiled as she felt his arms slip around her waist, under the jacket and pulled her closer to him.

His hands were warm, making her shiver as he played the part of attentive lover. His lips found the bare skin of her neck as he ghosted his skin over hers.

When the cops bypassed the couple, she felt him relax against her before pulling away. His eyes were intently watching her as he questioned her. “Why help me?” He asked roughly.

“You seem nice, like you needed a break.” Y/N said as she smiled up at the boy with the jet black hair.

Levi scoffed at her before pausing. He had felt something when he had pressed his lips against her skin. He pulled away and gave her a cocky grin. “See you around, angel.” His tone made it seem like the term wasn’t exactly a compliment.

“Hey what about your jacket?” Y/N asked, going to slip it off to hand back to him.

“Keep it for now, I’ll get it back later.” Levi said as he turned around and started walking away.

“How will you find me?” Y/N shouted after him.

Levi didn’t answer, just held up the small wallet that he had slipped out of her pocket. She hadn’t even noticed him lift it off of her. Y/N laughed as she stared as the boy disappeared into the crowd. It was an interesting way to find herself attracted to someone.

Levi paused as he finished his story and waited for the inevitable questions.

“So you stole Mom’s wallet and she wanted to date you?” Marc asked, looking back and forth between his parents.

“Yeah, amazingly enough, she apparently had been hit on the head right before meeting me.” Levi joked as she elbowed him in the ribs.

Y/N threw an amused look at her husband as he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close. She looked at her two boys and laughed. “How we met is just one of the reason I love your Dad. He has made my life very interesting, and it’s an adventure everyday with him and you two.” She said as she leaned over to give him a kiss.

No matter how she looked at it, she had fallen for a bad boy with a heart of gold that day in a crowd of people. And she loved him more everyday.

Mobile MasterList

#shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #levi ackerman #captain levi #snk levi #aot fanfiction #levi aot #levi ackerman x reader #snk x reader #aot x reader #levi modern au #levi ackerman modern au #levi x reader

[sunshinetrappedinourhearts]

Nathmarc month day 29: Fantasy AU

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16491026/chapters/39420499 Or, in my case, a vampire AU LMAO- hey, it’s fantasy right...? Oh man, this was nice to write. I had to stop it at some point though, because it was getting ridiculously long (again... stop giving me AU’s lol) PLUS, I wasn’t sure if it would be appreciated, as in I chose to not write out... certain things. You’ll get what I mean. Anyways. Here ya go. c: @nathmarcnovember BY THE WAY! I’m in Paris right now (I’m from the Netherlands myself) for Y/CON and I’ll be cosplaying Marc with my girlfriend as Nathaniel! c: Which is super nice of course, but yeah, this is why day 30 will be delayed, probably. I’ll try to write it tomorrow (one day late), but we’ll see! 

The day Nathaniel arrived, it was grey and rainy. The sun was nowhere to be found, and it made the whole town look ominous and a little shady. It made him shiver. Although that could also have been caused by the cold of the early autumn that year.

Absently, he wondered why on earth he had chosen to attend college here again, instead of a normal big city where all his former classmates had gone to. But then he remembered that it was one of the most prestigious art schools in the country, and that it would definitely help him grow.

He probably just had bad timing; in the coming days the sky would surely clear up a bit. He should just stop being so prejudged and give the small town a chance.

***

It didn’t clear up the next few days, and his first day of college it was even cloudier than the day he arrived, yet there was no rain. He was carrying an umbrella, staring at the trees already losing their leaves, they looked sad and lonely, and Nathaniel felt like capturing them in a drawing. He was imagining the way he could do that, maybe using charcoal pencils, or ink… when suddenly, he hit something hard with his shoulder and he quickly looked up into a pair of the brightest green eyes he had ever seen.

‘Ah, sorry!’ he said, grabbing the umbrella he had just dropped. ‘I was lost in thought…’

The boy in front of him seemed to be about the same age as him. He was just a little taller, and he had black hair tied in a messy ponytail. Nathaniel noticed he was wearing fingerless gloves and black nail polish. It contrasted strongly against his very pale skin. But it were the eyes that captured Nathaniel’s attention. They were so intensely radiant that he found it hard to look away. As if they were enchanting him. Never before in his life had he seen such dazzling eyes.

‘N-no, my bad,’ the boy said, pulling Nathaniel out of his daze, he then noticed the other was awkwardly scratching his head, taking some papers he had apparently dropped on the ground.

Nathaniel quickly leaned down to help him. They were lined pages, scribbled full of words, and it was tempting to read, but Nathaniel quickly gave them back to him before he could.

‘Thank you…’ He smiled a bit, putting the papers back in the map he was carrying.

‘Are you attending the art school here?’ Nathaniel blurted out.

‘Oh, I am, yes, I’m starting today. I’m in creative writing. What about you?’

‘2D and digital art,’ Nathaniel said, smiling softly. ‘Starting today as well. I specialize in comic and cartoon style, actually, but I also do traditional art.’

‘That’s amazing,’ Marc answered. ‘Maybe I’ll see you in the joined lessons some time, then.’

‘Joined lessons?’

‘Yeah, they have those, making people in different art divisions cooperate with each other to make big projects.’

Nathaniel felt a wave of excitement run through his body as he heard those words. Especially since there were a lot of things he wasn’t too good at, like script writing.

‘That’s amazing…’

He looked at the other boy, then quickly reached out his hand to introduce himself. ‘I’m Nathaniel,’ he smiled.

‘Ah, I’m Marc…’ Marc took his hand, shaking it shortly before letting go, a hint of pink on his cheeks. ‘It’s nice to meet you…’

***

Marc’s prediction happened sooner than Nathaniel expected, already during the first week he spotted him during a joined course.

Their eyes met for a second, and Nathaniel got lost within them, quickly pulling away when their teacher spoke.

Apparently, they were going to do a cooperation between creative writers and artists , and they’d be allowed to choose their own end product, for example a picture book, a visual novel, or...

A comic book.

It had been Nathaniel’s dream for ages to create a comic book, and he desperately hoped that this would finally become reality.

Marc appeared beside him only a  second after their teacher told them to find a partner, and Nathaniel almost tripped as he was still getting up.

The other boy grabbed his shoulder, and grinned a little sheepishly, a light blush on his cheeks. ‘Do you… erm… want to work together?’

***

That day, when Nathaniel walked towards his apartment, he didn’t notice the dozens of lit up eyes watching him from a distance.

He didn’t see it the next day either.

Or the next.

Or the following.

***

‘Nathaniel…?’ Marc asked a few weeks later. They were in the final stage of the comic book they were working on. It was about a superhero named Ladybug, one that always inspired Nathaniel during his middle and high school years, when he still lived in Paris.

He’d always wanted to create a comic about her, to honour her, and of course, to finally bundle all the story ideas he had about her.

Marc had happily agreed, and ever since, they had worked together perfectly, their skills complementing each other.

‘Yes…?’ he answered, looking up from the sketch of the final few pages he was working on. Marc was currently coloring the pages and filling in the speech bubbles.

‘I’m just wondering, where in town do you live…?’

‘Oh, in the outskirts, near the forest,’ he answered. ‘Why do you ask? Wanna work at my place sometime?’

‘Ah, that, too… i-if you want to, that is!’ Marc’s cheeks reddened a bit and Nathaniel found it cute. ‘But that’s not why I asked… It’s because, well… I just want to tell you… to be careful walking home… and… don’t go too late…’

Nathaniel furrowed his eyebrows. ‘Why’s that?’

Marc averted his gaze, and an uncomfortable sense of foreboding settled itself in Nathaniel’s stomach. The other boy was acting a bit strangely and it didn’t suit him.

‘…strange things have been happening in town, lately… Have always been, actually, but… it’s back, kind of…’

That confused him even more. ‘I can’t follow you…’

Marc looked up, locking their gazes carefully. Nathaniel hold his breath, because Marc’s eyes were mesmerizing… so deep… so…

‘J-just, be careful, okay?’

Nathaniel nodded, but he still didn’t understand what the writer boy was talking about.

***

Two weeks later, he found out what Marc meant.

He was on his way home from a late lecture, walking through the quiet part of town, almost reaching his apartment, when a hooded figure jumped in front of him, his face hidden.

Nathaniel’s heart stopped for a moment, and he took a step back, uneasiness tingling through his limbs.

The figure walked closer, slowly, and alarmed, he turned around, only to find an identical person on the other side, closing him in.

Another appeared.

And another.

And Nathaniel dropped his bag, his hands shaking.

What… what was happening…?

What were they doing…?

He had no money, no belongings, nothing!

What was it they wanted…?

Absently, he thought of Marc’s words a few weeks ago, and wondered if this is what his writer friend had been warning him for.

Chewing on his lip, he let his eyes flash from the one person to the other, searching for a way to get out, but there was none.

He was a goner.

Done for.

He didn’t know what was happening but-

He was trapped-

His heart was pounding painfully loud against his chest, and he thought for a moment that maybe, he’d die of that first before these strange hooded people could get to him.

Maybe that would be better.

Then, as one of them took another step closer, only a few feet away from him, he noticed their unnatural glowing purple eyes, and they made him think of Marc’s-

Before he could think anything more of it, the person moved too fast for Nathaniel’s eyes to follow, and he breathed-

He was dead-

No doubt-

He was gonna-

Gonna die-

Lost and forgotten-

Forever-

But then, as he opened the eyes he didn’t even remember closing, there was another figure in front of him suddenly, hissing at the other guys.

‘Get away, this one’s mine.’

Nathaniel blinked.

That voice-

‘Oh yeah? Do you have proof?’ the purple-eyed one called. It was a male voice, and the owner of it had stepped away a bit.

‘We’re four against one, kid,’ one of the others said.

Nathaniel moved a little closer to the figure that was apparently, for God knows whatever reason, protecting him.

Maybe it was a bad idea-

Maybe he’d be slaughtered by this one soon instead-

But-

There was no other option-

‘One, yes, one you cannot beat, you lowlifers. Do you have any idea what family I’m from?’

‘Rhy, that one’s from the Anciel family, we gotta be careful!’

Nathaniel furrowed his eyebrows, he had no idea what it meant, but the purple-eyed guy, who seemed to be the leader, took another step back and cursed under his breath.

‘Well, you’re lucky today, asshole,’ he growled. ‘But don’t think you can fool me. That one is not marked. So if you want to keep him, you better do that.’

The figure in front of Nathaniel didn’t seem impressed. ‘Get away. Before you start to regret it.’

And they went.

Nathaniel breathed, falling to the ground, only now realizing how stressed he had been from the whole situation. Grabbing his bag, he just inhaled and exhaled, gathering his thoughts.

What-

What on earth-

‘Are you… alright… Did they hurt you…?’ the voice belonging to the figure in front of them spoke. It was too familiar, too…

He turned around, and Nathaniel’s eyes widened.

‘Marc…’

The boy’s eyes seemed to sadden for a moment as he took off the hoodie of his shirt, revealing his face. He reached out his hand and Nathaniel took it, without hesitating, getting up.

His hand was warm and his touch gentle yet firm, and somehow, Nathaniel wanted to cry a little bit, because he felt like he was safe.

Marc however, still looked saddened, and he didn’t understand why.

‘Y-you saved me, thanks…’

Marc shrugged. ‘A little, but…’

‘But?’

His eyes flashed from left to right, and then he looked back at Nathaniel. ‘…I’ll walk you home, okay? I-if you want to, I… can come in and… explain…’

Nathaniel nodded, and they walked to his home in silence. He stayed close by Marc’s side, their shoulders almost touching.

***

Not much later, they were in his apartment, the both of them a warm cup of coffee in their hands. Nathaniel had finally been able to relax, but his mind was spinning with questions.

‘So… what did you want to explain to me…?’ he asked.

Marc took a sip of coffee, and then looked at him, his eyes very sad once again. Nathaniel preferred them happy, and shining with excitement.

‘Those figures that cornered you… they were… vampires…’

Nathaniel frowned. ‘They what?’

Marc looked him in the eye, dead-serious.

‘Vampires.’

He moved back a bit, because, really…?

Was he really joking in a moment like this?

When he had been so afraid, so scared?

He was just… mocking him?

‘…if this is your idea of a joke, I seriously misjudged you. It’s not funny.’

Marc’s eyes widened. ‘I’m n-not joking. I just… This is why I didn’t tell you everything when I warned you… You wouldn’t believe me..’

For a moment, Nathaniel thought to himself. If, but only if vampires really existed, then the whole situation suddenly wouldn’t be so strange anymore, right?

Because no money… no wealth… no things…

There was literally no reason for the four figures to have attacked him.

Unless… they had wanted his blood.

Literally.

But yeah, vampires didn’t exist so it was all total bullshit.

‘That one’s from the Anciel family, we gotta be careful!’

The sentence one of the figures had said about Marc suddenly flashed through his mind, and he looked at Marc carefully, squinting his eyes.

‘If that’s true… does that… mean… you’re a vampire as well…?’

Marc averted his eyes. And then slowly, very slowly, he nodded.

Nathaniel furrowed his eyebrows at first because-

It couldn’t be true-

It was ridiculous.

Totally ridiculous.

But then he looked back at Marc, carefully, observing his expression.

It didn’t change. He was trembling slightly, and his eyebrows were cast downwards, in a sad frown. He didn’t meet his gaze.

No freaking way-

Nathaniel chewed on his lip.

‘You… You are… serious.’ It sounded half like a question, half like an observation.

And Nathaniel stood up, taking a step back.

Because he had never seen Marc eating-

Or drinking-

Except his coffee just now-

And his skin was so pale.

His eyes so ridiculously bright.

Could it seriously be…

He took another step back.

And Marc finally looked at him, standing up.

‘I’m not lying. I swear…’

Nathaniel stared.

His head spinning.

‘Show me.’

‘W-what?’

‘Y-your fangs.’

Nathaniel felt his cheeks heat up and he quickly averted his eyes, but then decided it was best to keep looking at him.

Marc was blinking.

For a while, he was silent, then he walked up to him.

Nathaniel wanted to get away, but at the same time, his mind was convincing him that Marc was probably joking because vampires were all one big legend, but he was also a little scared, but also he trusted Marc and-

He was a mess.

Marc, in turn, stopped walking when they were only inches away from each other, and he opened his mouth, a little awkwardly.

And Nathaniel saw.

He wasn’t kidding.

‘T-then… I never saw you eating because…’

Marc closed his mouth. ‘Because I don’t need it. I don’t need drinks as well.’

He nodded at the empty cup of coffee. ‘I can drink, or eat, but, I just don’t taste anything. And it’s not… really enjoyable, but, well, I can…’

‘S-so… those… other…’ Nathaniel frowned. ‘…other… vampires… they got away, because…?’

Marc sighed. ‘Because I belong to a pretty powerful family… I’m a bit of an outsider there, but, well, I still carry their name, and they turned me, so… I can use it in situations like this.’

He scratched his head.

‘The problem is that it won’t help forever… In your case…’

‘Why is that…?’ Nathaniel sat back down on his couch, and Marc carefully followed his example, and Nathaniel noticed he put a considerable amount of distance between them.

Was he… uncomfortable…?

Nathaniel found that he himself, wasn’t… so much. Because if all this was true, Marc was still Marc, and he was still his partner, still a great writer, and well… He saved his life… Especially if those other… people were vampires.

‘Because they probably noticed I was lying.’

‘About… saying… I w-was… yours…?’ Nathaniel felt a little hot suddenly, and he started fumbling with his hair to focus on something else.

‘Y-yeah…’ Marc said, his cheeks pink as well.

Maybe his room was just pretty warm, yeah, that was probably it.

‘Vampires… they can… well… kind of… Mark their… partners… As in… they can pretty much claim a human… or other vampires… as their own… It’s a special process. When you undergo it, other vampires can’t touch that particular person anymore. The only person who can drink that person’s blood is the vampire who marked them. I kind of… implied you were like that to me, but vampires can usually tell whether a person is marked or not. And you’re not, so… they’ll come back for you at some point.’

‘Why me?’

Marc looked at him, fumbling with his gloves a bit. ‘…your blood smells… special…’

Nathaniel breathed.

‘To you, as well?’

‘Y-yeah. But don’t worry, I’m completely under control. I don’t drink much blood. Only blood we have stored at home.’

But you still think my blood smells special…

‘I’m not scared,’ Nathaniel said. ‘You’re Marc. No matter if you’re vampire or human.’

His eyes lighted up for a bit, and a small smile played around his lips. ‘T-thank you… That… means a lot…’

Nathaniel smiled.

Marc then got up. ‘I’ll get going… Just… I’ll walk you home from now on, okay…? I… It’s not that I think you’re weak or something, just…’

‘No, it’s okay. Thank you. I understand. That’s… kind of you. I’d appreciate that.’

Nathaniel couldn’t imagine walking that dark road alone anymore, not when thirsty vampires could appear from every corner. Now that he knew… He shivered.

***

Starting the next day, Marc walked him home every day. Usually, he’d stay for a while, drinking a cup of coffee, because according to him, it was the one thing that could actually close to make him taste something.

Weeks passed, and Nathaniel started feeling guilty to make the other boy walk him home all the time, and something was gnawing his mind… stealing his thoughts.

One day, he finally found the courage to ask.

‘Marc…?’

‘Hm?’ The other boy looked up from his notebook, he had been working on an assignment for class.

‘I uh… you… erm… You are walking me home every day now, and… I appreciate it a whole lot, and I like your company, but… isn’t it… a lot more convenient…’ he paused, taking a deep breath, and then shot out all the remaining words at once. ‘…ifyoujustmarkme.’

Marc dropped his pen. ‘W-what?’

Nathaniel breathed, his head was burning, and he wondered vaguely if it was now as red as his hair. He looked at Marc carefully, but his eyes were so widened, so shocked, and his cheeks so red that Nathaniel felt even more embarrassed and he averted his gaze, chewing on his lip.

‘Well… If you… mark… me… like you t-told me… then… you d-don’t need to worry so much anymore… right?’

Marc inhaled deeply. ‘Do you have any idea what you’re asking?’

‘Yes? I mean? I guess? Probably?’ Nathaniel blinked.

Marc picked up his pen again.

‘Nathaniel… If I… give you my mark, then… it won’t just mean you can’t be preyed upon by other vampires anymore… It also means that… I will be unable to drink any other blood than yours… Meaning I… have to continue drinking your blood… because it will be the only one that will satisfy me… Until the mark disappears… Meaning… until you die…’

Nathaniel’s head was spinning. ‘O-oh…’

‘See? I can’t do that. I can’t hurt you like that,’ Marc said softly, and he smiled a bit as he continued writing.

Nathaniel didn’t answer, thinking hard.

But he didn’t find an answer that day.

***

A week later, he did.

‘Marc. Drink my blood.’

The poor writer boy choked on his coffee, almost spitting half of it out. Then, he looked at Nathaniel, his eyes big and shocked. ‘W-what?’

Nathaniel didn’t know what words were anymore. He searched hard for them, opening his mouth, closing it again, and Marc waited until finally, he managed to blurt them out.

‘Then I know what it feels like. So I can decide for myself if I’d find it a bother if you… mark… me…’

Marc inhaled.

‘I-I n-never d-drank… s-someone’s… blood… directly…’

‘Well, then it’ll be a first time for you as well…?’ Nathaniel smiled a bit, embarrassed, his cheeks burning.

‘N-no. I can’t. I can’t do it,’ Marc said, getting up, grabbing his notebook and pen, but they fell on the ground as he awkwardly tried to gather them together.

Nathaniel tried reaching for it, to help him, but he clumsily scratched his hand across the table.

Cursing, he grabbed his trembling hand.

It was bleeding.

Carefully, he looked up to Marc.

His eyes were… glowing.

And as soon as their gazes met, he took multiple steps back.

Nathaniel chewed his lip.

Was he…

Was it…

His blood…?

‘…Marc…?’

‘I should leave.’

He was about to walk away, but Nathaniel realized that this would probably be the only time he’d get a chance like this.

Why though…

Why on Earth…

Did he want Marc to…

To…

So desperately…?

He didn’t know.

Or maybe he did.

But he didn’t want to acknowledge it.

It didn’t matter-

He quickly moved towards the writer boy, standing between him and the door, locking their gazes.

‘Nathaniel…’

Marc’s eyes were trembling, and so were his hands.

Nathaniel hold out his hand. It was bleeding, a little bit, but there were still small drops of blood trailing down his arm.

He took a deep breath.

‘J-just try. Alright? I trust you.’

Marc groaned, grabbing his head. ‘Don’t ask this of me… please…!’

‘But you want to, don’t you?’

‘You have no idea-’

‘Yes! Because I don’t know! If you just- Then I’ll know.’

Marc grabbed his hand, and Nathaniel breathed.

Slowly, very slowly, Marc pulled his hand closer, and he didn’t look him in the eye as he licked the trail of blood from his arm.

Nathaniel shivered.

And he saw Marc’s eyes widening.

‘…it’s… good?’ he breathed, barely a whisper.

Marc let go of his arm, and locked their gazes.

‘It… it is… Which is why… I won’t do that again…’

He left. Before Nathaniel had moved from his frozen state, unable to stop him.

***

Some months passed, and they never spoke of the incident again. Until one evening, Marc walked him home like always, and suddenly, the group of four vampires reappeared.

Nathaniel’s heart sank, and he froze in his steps. Vaguely, he registered Marc moving in front of him protectively.

The purple-eyed vampire spoke first.

‘So, what’s the deal, Anciel? This human, he’s not yours, is he?’

‘Then why can’t we have it?’ another of them asked.

‘Yeah, it’s blood smells pretty good, and he lives alone, a perfect victim.’

‘Get away,’ Marc said.

‘Not until you give me a clear answer.’ The purple-eyed vampire took some steps closer to Marc, facing him. He was a little bit taller than him, and Nathaniel’s heart was pounding loudly against his chest.

‘I haven’t marked him yet,’ Marc answered.

A loud chuckle sounded, and unconsciously, Nathaniel moved a little closer to Marc, who in turn moved even more in front of him.

‘If you haven’t marked him yet,’ the purple-eyed vampire said. ‘He is as much yours as he is ours. So you get away. We’re four, you’re one. An Anciel or not, you can’t win.’

‘Get. Away,’ Marc growled. And Nathaniel couldn’t see his face, but the sound in his voice was enough. He waited, listening to the sound of his heartbeat, trying to concentrate on something else instead of the vampires surrounding them.

For a second, the leader of the vampires backed away. Just one step. And then he snorted.

‘Then mark him. Right here.’

‘You know perfectly well that I’m not going to do that in public,’ Marc said. And Nathaniel absently wondered what the hell he meant by that. Was it that intimate…? His heart started to pound a little faster, and he wasn’t so sure anymore what exactly the cause of it was.

Marc took one step forward, in the direction of the purple-eyed vampire. Who took one back.

‘If you want to fight me, be my guest. But you know about the Anciel’s fighting techniques, do you not?’

Silence.

‘Then you know you don’t stand a chance. And you know four against one is not something you can be proud of.’

The purple-eyed vampire made a tch-sound, and then turned around.

‘You better make truth of your words, Anciel. You can’t simply claim a human smelling that good without marking him. I’ll hunt him down and find him when you’re not around.’

They walked away.

And Nathaniel breathed.

***

When they arrived at home, Marc turned around, and looked him in the eye, shy at first, but then serious. And he took a step closer.

Nathaniel held his breath.

‘Nathaniel… I… I want t-to… make you… mine…’

He released his breath. And his face was on fire.

‘Wow, that sounded…’

‘You c-can take it in two different ways. I mean it in both,’ Marc said, he was blushing.

‘W-what…?’

‘I’m… I… want to protect you… And… I promise to never hurt you… I’ll only drink your blood… when it’s absolutely necessary… In that way. But… this is also a confession…’

‘C-confession…?’

‘I’m in love with you,’ Marc blurted out, and Nathaniel’s heart soared.

His mind was spinning with what?! and but- and how- and since when- and that can’t be true- and a whole lot more that he couldn’t identify at all but-

Something within his chest felt like a fluttering ball of fluff, and it was soft and warm, and Nathaniel didn’t dislike it.

Only his cheeks were uncomfortably warm and he probably looked like a freaking tomato-

How did talking work again?

‘Nathaniel…?’

Marc looked worried, and small, and his posture was insecure and his hands were trembling.

He was nervous-

He should give him an answer-

But how did he feel?

Nathaniel only knew that his heart felt a little lighter whenever Marc was around. That he was kind and talented, and a little shy, but that was more cute than annoying. That his eyes were mesmerizing and his hands were soft. That he didn’t remember anymore what it felt like to be without him. That they were the perfect team they had ever dreamed of. And that he wouldn’t mind Marc drinking his blood… at all. He didn’t mind him being a vampire. Because he was Marc. And Marc was the only thing he needed.

‘I-I…’

‘You don’t need to answer me immediately,’ Marc said quickly. ‘I can still protect you the way I’m doing it right now. I’ll fight when it’s necessary. I’ll win.’

‘N-no it’s… I’m feeling a bit… overwhelmed… But not in a bad way…’ he carefully looked at him, and smiled. ‘I… I need some time to sort out my feelings, but… I like you a lot, Marc… I… think I might be in love with you… as well…’

Marc smiled, and his eyes softened. Better.

‘Once you have an answer… please tell me…’

***

About two weeks later, Nathaniel told him he loved him.

He had never seen Marc’s face so red before. It was cute.

They were silent for a while, just sitting together, as Marc squeezed his hand. Eventually, Nathaniel had to be the one to point it out.

‘You should mark me, then.’

He felt Marc jump slightly next to him, and the writer boy turned to look at him.

‘I guess I said that, huh…’ he scratched his head, smiling awkwardly.

‘How does it work…?’

Suddenly, Marc’s hand was moving over his neck, his fingers soft and gentle.

Nathaniel found it hard to remember how to breathe.

‘Apparently…’ Marc said, his voice low. ‘I should bite you… right here… Suck your blood and… there should be some kind of bond between us… If there is… it should happen automatically… You probably won’t be able to tell, but I will…’

Nathaniel nodded, breathing slowly.

‘B-but first…’ Marc said, he was avoiding his gaze, flashing his eyes from left to right nervously. ‘Erm… c-can I… k-kiss you…?’

‘Yes,’ the small word was gone before Nathaniel realized, and Marc leaned in, slowly. He closed his eyes, and their lips touched. A little awkwardly, then again, gentle, soft, Nathaniel’s head was spinning-

It was then that he knew he wanted to be with Marc forever. Everything fell into place.

And from that moment, their eternity started.

#nathmarc november #nathmarc #rainbow tomato #nathaniel kurtzberg #marc anciel #miraculous ladybug #vampire au #marcnath #marcthaniel #marc x nathaniel #nathaniel x marc #fanfiction #my stuff

[douchebagbrainwaves]

HERE'S WHAT I JUST REALIZED ABOUT QUESTION

There your job is largely a charade. So the point of this essay wrote: We try to pick founders who are younger or more ambitious the utility function is flatter. B, and then see what valuation they could get for the second half of launching fast. It's like knowing a fabulous sculpture is hidden inside a block of foam or granite.1 Don't realize what you're avoiding One reason people who've been out in the same way you'd deal with a cold swimming pool: just jump in. This is one of the top VC funds whether it was worth paying attention to things you're not supposed to swear in front of a computer, the jet engine, the laser, it's because of some difference in their characters; the Yale students just have fewer great hackers, and they can generally rewrite whatever you produce. Start your own company, why not undergrads? No one is sure what research is supposed to mean that if your software is what will make you successful.

In the process of discovering it's broken, you'll come up with heuristics for recognizing genuinely interesting problems, what good hackers like is other good hackers. Notes This suggests a way to be in as good physical shape as Olympic athletes, for example, were almost as corrupt in the first 5 minutes. For outsiders this translates into two ways to pass them: to be smart.2 Mistake number one. Don't raise money unless you want to grab coffee, for example, and the visual arts, where there's almost no overlap between the kind of alarms you'd set off if you want to do this on too small a scale you'll just guarantee failure. The empirical answer is: any company that needs to have good ideas I need to write anything, though? We take for granted are missing.

A stage before series As turned into de facto series B rounds. When searching for ideas, companies wouldn't just have to do is discover what you like, and you've made something other users want too.3 Business still reflects an older model, exemplified by the French, did much of his work be guided by duty, but duty is no guide in making things.4 This habit is unconscious, but not so wrong about the specific companies, but you should never do this—just that if I can't write things down, worrying about remembering one idea gets in the way you'd treat the core of which was something called an inference engine. The Age of the Essay probably the second or third tier firms have a much more conclusive way than by making up fine sounding stories about them. Dressing up is not so much that a few months ago, while visiting Yahoo, I suddenly found myself working for a while to grasp this?5 Well, I'm now about to do that, but we never managed to crack the print edition of the Times vary so much in software is public opinion—or more accurately, Vogue editors running a math journal.6 It's this fact that makes programing languages a good idea for a startup to a standstill for months. Companies can be so pervasive that it takes a company to do that completely.7

Do what you love in your spare time, not more sophisticated. Essays should aim for maximum surprise. Thanks to Patrick Collison and Jessica Livingston for reading drafts of this, and I expect this to become increasingly common.8 What you need to know anything about marketing, or hiring, or organization. And if the offer is surprising, it will be. The company that did was RCA, and Farnsworth's reward for his efforts was a decade of patent litigation. Unfortunately, companies can't pay everyone like salesmen.9 And hacking programming languages doesn't pay as well as writing ad copy for garbage disposals.10 Stuff used to be bolted together. This way you might be able to get a line right.11 But it seems more to the point where they can put a lot of overlap between them.12

They may be surprised how often the founders themselves. If one part of a study. It could take half an hour to read a description of HN. There are two questions VCs ask that you shouldn't relax just because you don't want to be their research assistants so they can sue competitors. Com/spam. Depends what you mean by exist.13 Curiously enough, what got Segway into this problem was that he wanted students who were not just good technicians, but who else is investing? What little original thought there was just something we weren't getting.14 You should compete against what someone else could be doing.15 It would not work well with programs written in more powerful languages.

This was what made everyone want computers.16 We were surprised how frightened most of them into a rush of activity. But now comes the hard part is seeing something new that users lack. There is no longer necessary.17 This form of bad idea has been around for a couple years of this I could tell he meant it. Another thing we tell founders not to worry about entering a crowded market so long as it's interesting. When you're deciding what to do when they're 12, and just build things. If you want to be a problem. As I was mulling this over, I found myself thinking of people like Jessica is not just that he'd be annoying, but because that's the amount you raise, the more pressure there was to pay employees upstream of it. I. They will give you more credit. Another startup might have needed a database guy, or someone else, in order to have macros you probably have more debts than assets.

And you can quote me! You make elaborate plans for a product could ever be so stupid. They all ask the same question: who else have you pitched to? Is way less than the measurement error. Thanks to Marc Andreessen, Joe Gebbia date: Fri, Feb 13,2009 at 11:09 AM subject: Re: Revenge of the Nerds on the LL1 mailing list. You just have to treat such leaks as a cost of doing business. Acquirers are protected on the downside, but still keep them almost as insulated from users as they would be identical, but there seems a decent chance it's true. But unfortunately when you graduate or a few years.

Keep doing whatever made you seem hot.18 Most of the stuff I read in Time and Newsweek. There's another sense of not everyone can do work they love—that someone has to do if you're already in the billions, and they suck up just as much what other people have set for them. So if you want to partner with you, and will necessarily use predefined problems, will tend to wait until a language has been around for more than 20 years. If the spammers are careful about the headers and the bodies became much spammier.19 So if you want to inhabit. Html 7.

Notes

It tipped from being this boulder we had, we'd have understood why: If you don't mind taking money from them. Wisdom is useful in solving problems too, but trained on corpora of stupid and non-broken form, that alone could in principle get us up to 20x, since human vision is the valuation of the device that will pay people millions of people.

On their job listing page, they still probably won't invest.

Perl. If anyone remembers such an idea where there were no strong central governments. But that is actually from the creation of the incompetence of newspapers is that they've focused on different components of it. They then grant the founders.

Look at what adults told children in the classical world meant training landowners' sons to speak well enough but the churn is high, they say they care above all about hitting outliers, and others, no one knows how many of the venture business. VCs play such games, but conversations with VCs suggest it's roughly correct for startups, whose founders aren't sponsored by organizations, and when you lose that protection, e.

And a company just to go all the page-generating templates are still a leading cause of accidents. On their job listing page, they say they bear no blame for opinions not expressed in it.

I'm thinking of Oresme c.

We react like children, or Microsoft could not process it.

According to a woman who had been Boylston Professor of Rhetoric at Harvard Business School at the start, e. Kant. From?

Then when we started Viaweb, he'd get his ear pierced. If you freak out when people in the chaos anyway. To dictators. College English Departments Come From?

In a project like a later investor trying to work in a domain is for sale unless the owner shouldn't pay me extra for doing badly in your next round. It might also be good at talking about art. Obvious is an interesting sort of Gresham's Law of conversations. And while it makes the best response is neither to bluff nor give up more than others, no one else involved knows French.

It was born when Plato and Aristotle looked at with fresh eyes and even if they ultimately choose not to grow as big. The Civil Service Examinations of Imperial China, during the 2002-03 season was 4. If a big factor in the woods.

Since the remaining outcomes don't have a three letter word. The optimal way to avoid that.

One new thing the company than you otherwise would have for endless years of bank dependence, reinforced by the PR firm admittedly the best startups, because the first couple times I bailed because I can't predict which lies future generations will consider inexcusable, I know it didn't to undergraduates on the East Coast. The chief lit a cigarette.

They shut down in the US. Or more precisely, this is one problem where rapid prototyping doesn't work.

It is still hard to compete directly with open source project, but when people make investment decisions well when they're checking their messages during startups' presentations? Most explicitly benevolent projects don't hold themselves sufficiently accountable.

To get all that value, don't make users register to read stories. To get a false positive if the founders chose? That makes some rich people move, and tax rates, which people used to retrieve orders, view statistics, and Jews about.

Some of the randomness is concealed by the fact by someone with a base of evangelical Christians.

Galbraith was clearly puzzled that corporate executives would work to have the balls to ask about what you've done than where you can't distinguish between people, but those specific abuses. Bureaucrats manage to allocate resources, because neither of the infrastructure that this isn't strictly true, it could become a genuine addict. Most of the grad students they admit each year are long shots.

They would probably also encourage companies to build little Web appliances.

#automatically generated text #Markov chains #Paul Graham #Python #Patrick Mooney #spammers #VCs #employees #funds #dependence #couple #years #charade #series #block #work #founders #sons #Wisdom #Thanks #shape #stories #users #one #children #company #sup #students

[tyson-berry-blog]

Evgeni Malkin #1 - English

Anon asked: Hey, I saw that your requests were open and I was wondering if you could do a Evgeni Malkin where he's nervous talk to you because he doesn't speak English that well.

This prompt really got away from me and ended up being the longest one I’ve written. I am wearing a Malkin t-shirt jersey as I type this and I promise that it was a coincidence. I love him way more than I probably should. I took the liberty of adding in Bryan Rust as a character to work out some plot holes so I hope that is okay! I hope you enjoy reading this an much as I enjoyed writing this!

You loved working in a bakery especially one you owned but sometimes being your own boss was tough. You were usually the first one in and that last one out but today you finally pawned off the late shift to someone else and left early. You felt guilty of course, it was your bakery so it almost felt like cheating when someone else did the work. If it hadn’t been for the insistent nagging of your younger brother to come support him at work you wouldn’t have left. You were the older sister to Bryan Rust a winger for the Pittsburgh Penguins and thorn in your side. They made it through to the second round of the playoffs as you expected but you would never let him know that. Each player was allotted a certain number of tickets per game and you insisted that it was only right that your parents and your other brother Matt got to go. You made excuses about being busy at work which were half true and finally he had enough. Bryan, armed with a jersey and threat to call your mother showed up during your lunch break to directly ask you to come to their game.

“Bryan you know I can’t leave when there is so much to get done!”

He pulled his best wounded look, “it’s like you don’t care about me or something.”

“You know that isn’t true.”

“Prove it to me,” he crossed his arms, “come to the game tonight and as proof of attendance you have to meet me after in the locker room.”

You looked down at the stack of order forms on your desk, “fine. Yeah I’ll be there.”

He smiled at you brightly and pushed the jersey and ticket in your direction before running off for his pre-game nap.

This is why you found yourself waiting with the other family members outside of the locker room after a 3-2 win over the Capitals instead of at home asleep. When the media finished up and finally left, the family members filed in flocking to their respective players. You picked your way through the masses and made your way over to your brother who was in the middle of a conversation with alternate captain Evgeni Malkin and object of your affections. He perked up at the sight of you and eagerly waved you over. Evgeni turned to see what Bryan was waving at and when he made eye contact with you he quickly looked elsewhere. Bryan slung a sweaty arm around your shoulder and you made no attempt to shake him off. They had just won and you couldn’t ruin his excitement.

“Geno this is my big sister! Sis, this is Geno.”

You held your hand out for Geno to shake, “Hi. It’s so nice to meet you. You played great.”

He shook your hand tentatively and nodded in thanks.

Bryan punched Evgeni in the shoulder, “c’mon dude don’t be shy. She isn’t totally awful.”

Before you could object to his comment Bryan was waved over by Marc-André to weigh in on the conversation he was having with Kris Letang. This left you alone with Geno who was decisively looking anywhere but at you.

The silence was tense so you attempted to joke, “what do I have something on my face?”

Evgeni was startled by the sudden comment and quickly shook his head as an answer.

You tried again, “so how awful is my brother? Be honest, I promise I won’t tell him.”

“He not bad. Work hard,” Evgeni answered honestly.

“Really?” you teased, “there has got to be something.”

“No.”

You nodded at the curt answer and tapped your fingers awkwardly on your thigh. You searched the room for your brother who had somehow disappeared.

You looked back at Evgeni, “I think I’m going to wait for Bryan outside. If he asks will you let him know?”

Evgeni nodded and turned away which you took as a sign of dismissal. It was unfortunate really. You’d found him to be quite attractive for a while now but for some reason he just didn’t seem to want to interact with you. You hoped you hadn’t accidentally offended him when you asked about dirt on your brother. In your mind it was harmless teasing but maybe it meant more to him. You worked to push the thought out of your mind as you read through some texts. The group chat between your parents and brothers was particularly active so you scrolled through the messages. It started with your parents wishing Bryan luck and them commenting on the photos you sent of the game. Nothing interesting enough to warrant dozens of texts. The further you scrolled down made the sudden influx of messages make sense. Bryan had unknowingly taken a picture of you talking to Evgeni and captioned it “Remember to thank me in the wedding speech.”

Your mother responded with a series of coos to which Matt and your dad responded with vague threats defending your honor. You quickly went to set the record straight.

“He barely said five words to me!”

Bryan was quick to respond, “he is a man of few words.”

“Bryan where are you? I am waiting outside, let’s go,” you attempted to steer the conversation away from your failing love life.

Minutes later Bryan appeared freshly showered and changed.

He stopped in front of you, “some of the guys are going out for drinks. Want to come?”

“I have to be up early in the morning to open the bakery.”

“Nope,” he popped the p, “I had Kelsey find someone to cover your shift. Like four different people were willing to do it. They all think you work too hard.”

“Bryan I can’t have other people doing my work! It isn’t fair to them.”

He fixed you with a look, “really? I know how much time you give them off. You have more than made up for any extra work they might do.”

You knew he wouldn’t give up. It was his worst quality, “who all is going to be there?”

“Flower, Hags, Kuni, and Tanger for sure. I think Geno and a couple others as well,” he counted them off on his fingers.

“Are any other non-hockey players going? Won’t it be weird if I’m the only one?”

“I’m sure some others will be there. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to, I won’t make you. It’s just I barely get to see you anymore.”

You sighed, “I just don’t think it’s a good idea. I mean Geno can barely stand the sight of me and this is his team’s celebration.”

Bryan gave you a confused look, “wait what are you talking about? Geno definitely doesn’t hate the sight of you. Kind of the opposite.”

“He wouldn’t look at me and gave me short, clipped answers.”

“You probably just made him nervous.”

Now you were confused, “why would I make him nervous?”

“Okay he would kill me if he found out I was the reason you knew but he kind of has a thing for you. I don’t know why, you’re gross.”

It took a second for you to process the words, “Is that why you left us alone randomly?”

Bryan nodded sheepishly, “I thought he would finally work up the courage to talk to you. There is only so much a guy can hear about his sister.”

You punched him in the shoulder, “dude what the hell? Is that the real reason you wanted me at this game?”

“No. Okay maybe it was part of the reason but you are my sister and you haven’t come out to a game in months.”

“This still doesn’t change the fact he barely talked to me. Look I don’t want to make things weird tonight. I’m going home, I hope you have fun.”

With that you spun on your heel and walked through the now empty arena. While you didn’t have to open the shop, as a force of habit you knew your body would wake you up anyway. Might as well get some sleep.

In the morning as predicted you woke up at your normal time and as much as your eyes burned from exhaustion you couldn’t fall back asleep. This did allow you more time to get ready and you were able to eat breakfast instead of just scarfing down a piece of toast and coffee. You left for the bakery before you were scheduled to go in but still later than if you were opening. When you got there it was empty save for a few customers scattered around and Brad behind the counter. You tried to walk through the swinging door that led you into the kitchen but Brad’s body blocked it from opening. You opened your mouth to protest and he jerked his head towards a lone figure in the corner. It was Evgeni.

“He’s been here since just after opening. Please go fix whatever happened. I can’t have mopey boyfriends hanging around.”

“He isn’t my boyfriend,” you tried to explain.

Brad raised an eyebrow, “well then you better let him know that. He seemed particularly upset when he walked in and you weren’t here.”

“He works with my brother. I’ll go see what he wants.”

You attempted to ignore the giddy feeling in your stomach as you walked over to the corner table. Evgeni looked up at your footsteps like a deer caught in the headlights. You pulled the chair out across from him and waited expectantly for him to speak.

When he opened his mouth but no words came out you took pity, “what are you doing here?”

He audibly gulped, “I’m come see you.”

“Yeah I got that; but why? In our last interaction it seemed like you literally could not stand the sight of me.”

He shook his head quickly, “no not mean that!”

You quirked an eyebrow and waited for him to further explain.

“I’m plan to talk to you. I’m practice how to ask you out. When I’m see you I’m get nervous. English not so good.”

“Was that it? You were afraid to talk to me because you don’t think your English is that good?”

He nodded.

“Oh Geno,” you reached for his hand that was sitting on the table, “considering English isn’t your first language I’d say you’re doing a great job.”

He blushed and ducked his head, “Rusty say I’m dumb. Say you great girl and I’m make you feel bad. I’m not mean to.”

“I know you didn’t mean to. I was being too sensitive I think. Bryan knew about my crush on you so I felt a little betrayed when he left me to fend for myself.”

That got him to look at you, “you like me?”

“For a while now,” you admitted, “Bryan wouldn’t stop talking about you and I had to see what all the fuss was about.”

His face lit up with a grin, “we go out?”

“Whoa there Geno slow down,” you laughed.

This caused the grin to fall slightly, “oh. I’m sorry. I’m not mean to…” he trailed off.

“No I just mean let’s take this slow. I want to get to know you better. We can maybe exchange numbers?”

He nodded eagerly, “English better on phone. Good practice.”

You two exchanged numbers and talked until Brad came over and tapped your shoulder letting you know your shift had started fifteen minutes ago. You scrambled out of your seat and Geno followed suit.

“I’ll text you,” you told him.

“I’m answer this time.”

“You better,” in a spur of the moment decision you reached up on your tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

The bright grin from earlier returned on his face and he left the bakery still smiling. Not even three minutes after his departure did you feel your phone buzz with a message.

“I’m give you Malkin jersey. Much better than Rusty.”

“Oh is it now?” you texted back.

“Da. I’m best.”

You felt yourself smile and glared at Brad when he began laughing.

“You better shut it. I’m in charge of your paycheck.”

Brad held his hands up in surrender and mimed zipping his lips. If the following interactions were anything like today, you could see this relationship going very far.

#evgeni malkin imagine #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #hockey imagines #pittsburgh penguins imagine #evgeni malkin #pittsburgh penguins

[thrashermaxey]

Ramblings: Barry Trotz, Galchenyuk-Domi, Shea Weber, and More – June 19

The big news from Monday was that the current head coach for the current Stanley Cup champions would become the former head coach for the current Stanley Cup champions. In the afternoon, Washington announced that Barry Trotz would be resigning from the club.

According Isabelle Khurshudyan of the Washington Post, Trotz had a clause in his contract that were he to win the Stanley Cup, an automatic two-year extension would kick in, on top of an extra $300 000 to each season, bringing his pay to $1.8-million per year. For those unfamiliar with the going rate for top-end coaches, particularly Cup-winning ones, he might be able to get three times that amount on the open market. It should be noted that this was an automatic extension, meaning the Caps had to accept his resignation, else they could just make him sit home for two years. They are allowing him to break his contract which, if he can get close to what coaches like Mike Babcock and Joel Quenneville earn, will be a big boost to Trotz’s bank account.

The Caps weren’t willing to give him the money and the term he was reportedly asking for. But someone will *cough* Islanders *cough*.

Bob McKenzie points out that it’s likely Todd Reirden gets promoted and takes over the bench boss duties but that there will still be some sort of formal coaching search. Until the time comes when the official coaching duties are announced, there’s no point in speculating what a new coach will do to the roster or systems.

All the same, best wishes to Trotz on whatever he does next. He helped bring a Cup to a long-suffering fanbase and did so after spending a decade and a half making hockey a must-watch sporting event in Nashville. Kudos to the Caps for allowing him to go get what he’s worth and good luck to Trotz.

*

There has been a lot of coverage here on the site with regards to the trade between Montreal and Arizona over the weekend. You can read Cam Robinson’s analysis of the Alex Galchenyuk–Max Domi deal and Ian Gooding’s here as well.

One point where I agree with both Ian and Cam is that league setup matters when trying to figure out the value for these guys. Galchenyuk has fewer penalty minutes over his last 205 regular season games than Domi had in 2017-18 alone. That is a difference-maker in leagues that count PIMs.

Other than that, though, this isn’t necessarily an upgrade for Domi. He likely lines up on the second line next year which means he gets Jonathan Drouin as his pivot. Drouin did not show the ability to play a top-end centre position last season. Does he improve on that this year? It’s possible. Does Domi get better line mates than Derek Stepan and Clayton Keller, his line mates when Domi put up 9 points in 13 October games? No.

Like Cam discussed, where Galchenyuk lines up will matter. Stepan is the top-line centre and Dylan Strome is the presumed number-2. Is Galchenyuk the third-line centre? It could work in a sheltered role but maybe he’d be better served on the wing in the top-six. My hunch is that maybe he plays a bit everywhere but eventually settles on the wing. There isn’t a lot of scoring depth on the wings in Arizona and he can help in this regard.

Galchenyuk’s defensive problems are well-documented and founded. That doesn’t mean he can’t be an impact player for the Coyotes. He should get top-six minutes with top power play minutes. A player with his skills can succeed with that. Again, league setups matter but I would still lean Galchenyuk here.

One final thing I’ll mention: he’ll be a great value in drafts come September if Domi can re-find his scoring touch in Montreal (i.e. not shoot 7 percent over two seasons). With his penalty minute potential, anything close to his rookie year can lead him to being very solid in roto leagues. He’s probably overvalued in real hockey but he’s probably going to be undervalued in fantasy hockey. Smart owners can take advantage of people who can’t separate the two.

*

Also wanted to point out Dobber’s take on Marc Bergevin’s move here. The move itself isn’t horrific. But it’s probably another trade the Habs lose, however thin that margin is. If you keep losing deals, even with small margins, over and over, it’s death by a thousand cuts. One move that doesn’t work out is fine; several moves that don’t work out is a pattern of ineptitude.

There’s a lesson there for fantasy owners. You can’t be afraid of making trades in your leagues. You have to give something to get something, and sometimes you’re going to lose a trade. I can think of a laundry list of trades I’ve made over the years that didn’t work out. It happens. Now, if it happens all the time, maybe review what considerations you’re making when proposing, mulling over, or accepting a trade. There is something clearly wrong in your process. You can’t be afraid of making mistakes when going for a title, but you also can’t keep making mistakes over and over.

Try to be more like David Poile and less like Marc Bergevin.

*

With the draft ahead this week, don’t forget to grab your copy of the Dobber Prospects Report! Get a head start on your league mates to know the players and situations for rookie drafts, dynasty drafts, and more!

*

Speaking of topics that are being beaten to death: John Tavares!

Also according to McKenzie, the Leafs may be putting together some sort of promotional package. Knowing just how absolutely brutal any promotional/marketing material by almost every team in the league is, I hope this is made public sometime. It’s either going to be so bad it’s awful or so bad it’s really good.

Anyway, to fantasy-related stuff.

I said it months ago in a Ramblings and I stand by it: I would love to see Tavares go Vegas. This is a team with a young core that is only going to improve but we saw them run into problems with scoring depth at times. With the uncertainty of David Perron and James Neal, it’s 40-some goals that they may need to replace. It would provide a buffer and some safety for youngsters Nick Suzuki and Cody Glass while providing the team with a true, bona fide superstar.

The most likely conclusion here is just Tavares re-signing with the Islanders. We all know that. It doesn’t mean we can speculate. That’s the point of fantasy hockey!

*

Not really fantasy-relevant (yet) but the ownership group looking to bring a franchise to Seattle hired former Arizona coach Dave Tippett to be their senior advisor. He would be responsible for helping get things moving on the hockey operations side of things. Whether he stays on after they get a team (if they get a team) remains to be seen but it’s just one more needle tick in the direction of the Western Conference getting another team sooner rather than later.

*

While I was thinking about Galchenyuk, Shea Weber came to mind for me. Namely, I’m wondering where his ADP is going to be next season. Or is it this season? Can we say “this season” yet? What’s the cut-off?

Injuries limited him to 26 games in 2017-18 but if you worked out his “on pace” numbers, this is what we get for 78 games, a number he reached in eight straight 82-game seasons: 18 goals, 30 assists, 42 PIMs, 225 shots, 198 hits, 177 blocks. That number of goals would have led the NHL among defencemen. The 30 assists would have been one off a four-year high. The 225 assists would have been the highest mark in three years. Those PIMs would have also been a three-year high. The blocks would have been a career high. The hits would have been his highest mark since 2010-11.

In all, *if* he could have kept up those marks for a full year, he would have been an excellent fantasy commodity.

Back to my question: what’s his ADP going to be? He was probably drafted in the top-10 defencemen in your fantasy drafts for 2017-18. Does he fall out of the top-10? Where does he have to go for you to feel comfortable drafting him?

I won’t start my projections until free agency settles down but assuming Weber doesn’t lose his PP slotting – which I cannot imagine he does – is there a reason, other than health, that Weber takes a step back next season? He’s getting older but he didn’t really seem to take a step back, at least for fantasy production, last year. If he plays 25 minutes a night with top PP time, maybe he can be the guy we have seen for the last few years. If I can grab him as a second defenceman in 12-team leagues, I’ll be hard-pressed to pass that up.

from All About Sports https://dobberhockey.com/hockey-rambling/ramblings-barry-trotz-galchenyuk-domi-shea-weber-and-more-june-19/

[jesusvasser]

Koenigsegg Came to Nevada to Beat Records

Spend more than two minutes with the man, and you get the sense that, unlike for Einstein, time isn’t relative for Christian von Koenigsegg. His idea of speed, however, very much is. What we Camry, Golf, Civic, and Tahoe plebeians call potential jail time, von Koenigsegg conceptualizes as infantile crawling, a trait his mythic Scandinavian machines very much embody.

This notion of speed is also one that’s shared with his company’s owners and acolytes, and this is how we’ve come to a closed 12-mile stretch of Highway 160 just outside of Pahrump, Nevada, with a newly built Koenigsegg Agera RS and a driver ready to push the bounds of street-car physics. History definitely won’t be the same.

There are three reasons we’re here. First, Koenigsegg is attempting to beat the production-car top speed record, which is currently 267.8 mph. This was completed about seven years ago by Bugatti in a Veyron Super Sports at Volkswagen’s Ehra-Lessien test track, a track where no other manufacturer is allowed to test.

The second is to break a record that’s stood since 1938, a top speed on public roads record completed by the Nazis. The third reason is to break Koenigsegg’s own record of 0-400-kph-0, a feat the company recently achieved, one that also beat Bugatti’s own record with the newly released Chiron.

There is, however, a twist. Unlike when Bugatti goes for records and brings along an army of engineers, mechanics, and fabricators to ensure that every piece of the Veyron or Chiron is pitch perfect, this event isn’t being conducted by Koenigsegg.

Three friends—and multiple Koenigsegg owners with very deep pockets—have set up this historic event. Those friends are Jeffrey Cheng, John Morris, and Mark Stidham, the man who has graciously raised his hand and offered up his specific red and carbon Agera RS to complete these Herculean tasks.

There was some factory help, of course. Christian von Koenigsegg himself was in attendance as well as a few engineers and Koenigsegg’s own professional driver, Nicholas Lilja, who has been fine tuning the Agera RS for the last month and a half, including driving the car when the company beat Bugatti’s previous 0-400-0 record. As for finding a road fit for this kind of test, things were less simple.

Unlike Bugatti’s test track, where conditions can be monitored, variables can be controlled, and there isn’t a lick of incline, Nevada’s Highway 160 isn’t secluded. It’s lined with trees and gated security. There are elevation changes in both directions.

There aren’t any buffers for the wind like at Bugatti’s German track. And it’s at a higher elevation than nominal—although this does aid the car’s slipperiness. Koenigsegg and the gentlemen who put this event on definitely weren’t doing themselves or the car any favors.

The night before, Christian and his team along with Marc and Jeffrey met to discuss the run. If the room had been full of cigarette smoke, you’d have mistaken it for NASA before the first Apollo mission. I half expected John Glenn to walk into the room.

There was a general electricity and tension in the air, something like flying by the seat of your pants. Anything is possible. The driver and Christian both looked as if they were elated and about to throw up, a nervousness that wouldn’t pass until the runs were over the next afternoon.

These types of speeds aren’t normal for road cars. Race cars do it on a regular basis but not a car you can drive to your local supermarket. Even your average McLaren, Ferrari, and Lamborghini can do more than 200 mph, but it only takes about 600 horsepower to hit 200.

To hit 260-280 mph, nearly 1,400 horsepower is needed, depending on the car’s weight. For the Agera RS, that’s not a problem, which is propelled by a 1,380 horsepower twin-turbocharged V-8.

Before breaking for dinner, I asked Christian a simple question: Theoretically, what is the Agera RS geared for? With a smirk, he told me: 282 mph. “But that’s bouncing off the rev limiter,” he said, “and likely doing damage to the engine.” Definitely something no one wanted to hear. The room fell deathly silent.

After dinner, our photographers and I went back to the garage where the Koenigsegg team was keeping Mark’s Agera RS, as well as three other Agera RS models and an older CCX R. While drooling over the precious metal, Nicholas, Koenigsegg’s race-car driver, walked in to inspect the car he’d be piloting the next day one more time with the help of two of the company’s engineers.

As the guys pored over their laptops, I spoke with Nicholas and asked him what he thought would happen. “I don’t know,” he replied in a very mechanical Swedish accent. “This is very much uncharted territory. We’ve done many tests over the last month and a half, but until you’re out there driving the car, you really can’t tell.” He added, “There are many variables—wind, temperature, the road surface. We’ll see what happens.”

As we spoke, I could tell he was nervous. Nicholas is an engineer by trade. He started working at Koenigsegg when the company first launched but left to form his own engineering company that went on to build one of the cars for the Gumball 3000.

Recently, he came back as a full-fledged test driver. That was after competing in a number of racing series around the world and winning about 50 percent of his races. Not a bad stat to hang your hat on. According to Steven Wade, Koenigsegg’s head of PR who was also in attendance, the company couldn’t be happier with him. “He’s a one-man engineering and testing team.” Wade said. My fingers were crossed for him as we shook hands and said good night.

Waking to darkness, the camp at Spring Mountain Motorsports was resigned. Wind speed was slightly too high for good runs, and after I left Nicholas in the garage the night before, the engineers found a potential fuel-pump issue. To ensure that everything would go right, Nicholas took the car out on Spring Mountain’s track for a quick shakedown run.

As we all gathered atop the viewing tower, we heard him take the first straight at full bore. The sound reverberated through the mountains and sent shockwaves through our chests. An added benefit of shaking the car down before sunrise is that we were treated to the foot-long flames that spewed from the Koenigsegg’s 3D printed titanium exhaust. Suffice it to say, everyone felt a little better and a little more jovial after watching the fireworks.

One final walk around the car, and Nicholas decided that instead of trailering the Agera RS out to Highway 160, he’d give it a final shake down and drive it out there. It wasn’t far, but it seemed as if he wanted a little more time with the car before he’d make the run. I couldn’t blame him. Koenigsegg and everyone who helped make this event happen was hoping for positive results.

With the car’s owner, Mark, sitting in the passenger seat, and Nevada’s Highway Patrol at the start and far end of the 12-mile course, Nicholas and Mark went out on a scouting run just as the sun crested over the Nevada mountains.

Originally, Christian, Mark, and Nicholas had agreed that the first scouting runs would be done at around 100-130 mph, just to get the feel of the road since Nicholas had never driven it before. They ended up hitting 220 mph with ease. Mark exited the car looking like a child on Christmas morning.

Talking with Mark after the initial run, I asked him why he decided to do this. He said, “Anyone can take a specialty vehicle that’s been modified and go fast. But to take a completely production car, directly from the factory, and do this? It’s just not done.”

Progress toward the top-speed run was slow. The first trek into the unknown wasn’t made until several hours later. During that time, Nicholas completed a few more scouting runs, all of which were around the same speed as his first.

When the wind was finally calm and outside air temperatures hovered around 60 degrees, the two helicopters covering the race distance were ready. Nicholas was ready. The Swede suited up, strapped in, and looked out at the horizon toward the unfamiliar landscape. We all held our breath as Nicholas slowly crawled away from the pits.

The seconds felt like minutes, and the minutes felt like hours as we nervously waited for Nicholas’ return. Just after we nibbled our fingernails to the bone, Nicholas returned and exited the Koenigsegg’s cockpit. His demeanor was pure stoicism. You couldn’t read whether or not he had done the extraordinary.

All he said was, “It felt OK.” We had to then patiently wait for Race Logic to download the telemetry from the twin independent GPS boxes inside the car. When all was said and done, the first pass hit a staggering and record-beating 271.2 mph. The entire paddock roared as Christian embraced Nicholas and Mark. They had beaten the Nazis’ 79-year-old record.

We, however, weren’t done. Nicholas said he lifted well before the brake markers out on track. More speed was ensured. Nearly every mouth in camp dropped. Nicholas’ remained almost indifferent as he was focused on the job at hand.

The Koenigsegg’s fuel tanks topped up, Nicholas went out for another run. You could’ve heard a pin drop as everyone strained to hear the tell-tale rumble from the Koenigsegg’s mighty engine. We peered out into the highway’s haze, searching for a tiny red carbon blob in the distance. Even though visibility was near perfect, the elevation and length of the track made it nigh impossible to spot. Slowly, Nicholas and the car came into view as a mob of people went out onto the road to greet him as if he were a WWII soldier returning from battle.

The Race Logic engineer returned once more. Silence. 284.6 mph. The number was verified through both of Race Logic’s V-BOXs, as well as Koenigsegg’s own internal system and Stalker Radar’s twin radar guns. Christian said the theoretical gearing of the car only allowed for 282 mph, but they had just beaten their own calculations.

The sound everyone made in the pits is something I’ll never forget. The crowd erupted with joy. Hands were shook, backs were patted, and hugs were given. Christian looked like the happiest man in the world. However, all wasn’t finished. To shut up internet commenters, as well as other manufacturers, the Koenigsegg team decided to run the course both ways. And the average would be used as the car’s official top speed.

With another splash of fuel and a quiet drive down the 12-mile straight, Nicholas was lined up once again, ready to make history.

While the mood in the pits was more jovial as the records began to fall, the session wasn’t complete, and there was still a real presence of danger. Something could easily go wrong. Everyone wanted Nicholas to finish the task, including Nicholas. Fortunately, Nicholas wasn’t deterred and put his foot to the floor.

Unfortunately, the last top-speed run wouldn’t be as good as his last as there was a decent headwind that slowed down the Koenigsegg considerably. The final top speed, a measly 271.2 mph. However, that meant that the average between the two runs were a world-record-beating 277.9 mph. Bugatti was left in the Nevadan dust.

After everyone had congratulated Nicholas on the run, I asked him. How did the car feel hitting those speeds? “Really calm the first way,” he said. “The second, it stepped out a few meters. The car isn’t optimal driving into a headwind.” What about now being one of the fastest men on Earth? “I like to drive and go fast on tracks,” Nicholas said, “really push the car’s limits and my own. Going fast in a straight line isn’t my cup of tea. But going more than 460 kph was truly special. I’m really grateful that Christian and Mark gave me the opportunity to do this, but also Michelin for developing a tire that can do this.”

Michelin really are the unsung heroes of this entire endeavor. The car runs a standard Pilot Cup 2 tire, something you can get at nearly every auto parts store. For the run, Michelin sent Eric Schmedding, the brand’s product category manager, to make sure the tires were ready for the beating they were about to endure.

The tires performed as intended. “It’s amazing,” Eric said. “We did seven runs on the same set of tires. (Three were completed in Europe before the car had been shipped to the States.) We definitely didn’t plan that, but the tires held up. And these are tires you can order off Tire Rack. They aren’t specially made. Amazing!”

When asked whether Michelin would use the data it collected during this test for the construction of Bugatti’s special Pilot Cup 2 tires for the Chiron, Eric said the data will be used for future designs, but Koenigsegg’s specific data won’t be used for Bugatti’s Chiron project. “It’s all about different loads. The Bugatti is heavier than the Koenigsegg, and its tires will need to be designed to handle that specific load.”

Catching up with Mark, the man who actually owns the car, I asked how it felt having the fastest car in the world. “Surreal. It doesn’t even feel like anything yet.” He added, “It’s like winning the Olympics. You’re the gold-medal winner for that day and really that day alone. This, this feels absolute. It feels final.”

All, however, was not finished. On October 5, Koenigsegg had smashed the Bugatti Chiron’s insane 0-400-kph-0 record of 41.96 seconds by a whopping 5.52 seconds. That, however, was done with old tires, alloy wheels, and on a runway from the second World War. Conditions weren’t ideal, and as the highway was still closed, Koenigsegg set out to beat their own record, proving the Agera RS as the fastest car on the planet.

While not as dangerous as the top-speed runs, the 0-400-0 still represented a risk, and Nicholas maintained his steely demeanor through the two runs. The first, Nicholas hit the brakes too early, hitting 0-396-kph-0 in just 33.13 seconds. That’s still within an almost infinitesimal margin of error, but Nicholas said he could do better.

Nevertheless, during his first run, he had traveled just 2,229 meters and clocked a 9.82-second quarter mile with a trap speed of 165 mph. The car, however, needed to cool down between runs as beating on it in the desert heat had begun to take its toll.

About a half hour passed between the first and second run. Eric from Michelin used this time to inspect the tires, which to his surprise were in almost perfect condition. The multiple top-speed runs, as well as the massive acceleration and immense deceleration, hadn’t compromised the tires. They were good to go, and as soon as the car was ready Nicholas headed once more into the breach.

With our collective breaths held once again, he slammed the car from first to second to third in lightning succession. The percussive blats from the titanium exhaust we felt as much as heard. We knew this was going to be a good run. It was. When Nicholas returned, Race Logic’s engineer gave us the metrics.

Nicholas did 0-401.78-kph-0 in just 33.87 seconds. He had covered a slightly longer distance measuring 2,299 meters and had done the quarter mile in just 9.96 seconds with a trap speed of 165.93 mph. Koenigsegg not only beat their own record, but it had absolutely shattered Bugatti’s. The proverbial mic was dropped.

Speaking with Christian von Koenigsegg after all the runs were complete, he said with a laugh, “We were out here to be the fastest, not the ultimate fastest.” He added, “It’s still a customer car. It has to go to Mark at the end of the day. We didn’t want to beat it up too much, but Mark wanted records, and we delivered a record car.” Nicholas, however, said that there was still some speed left on the table. “We probably could’ve gone a bit faster,” as he finally cracked his reserved Swedish demeanor with a smirk.

Records fell, the car was returned to its owner in one piece, and we were able to witness history. Now the bar is set, and we’re eager to see what Bugatti can manage with its Teutonic powerhouse. Bugatti’s Chiron has a speedometer that goes to 300 mph, but can the Germans really top Koenigsegg’s might? Only time will tell. We can’t wait.

IFTTT

#IFTTT #Performance Junk WP Feed 4

[jonathanbelloblog]

Koenigsegg Came to Nevada to Beat Records

Spend more than two minutes with the man, and you get the sense that, unlike for Einstein, time isn’t relative for Christian von Koenigsegg. His idea of speed, however, very much is. What we Camry, Golf, Civic, and Tahoe plebeians call potential jail time, von Koenigsegg conceptualizes as infantile crawling, a trait his mythic Scandinavian machines very much embody.

This notion of speed is also one that’s shared with his company’s owners and acolytes, and this is how we’ve come to a closed 12-mile stretch of Highway 160 just outside of Pahrump, Nevada, with a newly built Koenigsegg Agera RS and a driver ready to push the bounds of street-car physics. History definitely won’t be the same.

There are three reasons we’re here. First, Koenigsegg is attempting to beat the production-car top speed record, which is currently 267.8 mph. This was completed about seven years ago by Bugatti in a Veyron Super Sports at Volkswagen’s Ehra-Lessien test track, a track where no other manufacturer is allowed to test.

The second is to break a record that’s stood since 1938, a top speed on public roads record completed by the Nazis. The third reason is to break Koenigsegg’s own record of 0-400-kph-0, a feat the company recently achieved, one that also beat Bugatti’s own record with the newly released Chiron.

There is, however, a twist. Unlike when Bugatti goes for records and brings along an army of engineers, mechanics, and fabricators to ensure that every piece of the Veyron or Chiron is pitch perfect, this event isn’t being conducted by Koenigsegg.

Three friends—and multiple Koenigsegg owners with very deep pockets—have set up this historic event. Those friends are Jeffrey Cheng, John Morris, and Mark Stidham, the man who has graciously raised his hand and offered up his specific red and carbon Agera RS to complete these Herculean tasks.

There was some factory help, of course. Christian von Koenigsegg himself was in attendance as well as a few engineers and Koenigsegg’s own professional driver, Nicholas Lilja, who has been fine tuning the Agera RS for the last month and a half, including driving the car when the company beat Bugatti’s previous 0-400-0 record. As for finding a road fit for this kind of test, things were less simple.

Unlike Bugatti’s test track, where conditions can be monitored, variables can be controlled, and there isn’t a lick of incline, Nevada’s Highway 160 isn’t secluded. It’s lined with trees and gated security. There are elevation changes in both directions.

There aren’t any buffers for the wind like at Bugatti’s German track. And it’s at a higher elevation than nominal—although this does aid the car’s slipperiness. Koenigsegg and the gentlemen who put this event on definitely weren’t doing themselves or the car any favors.

The night before, Christian and his team along with Marc and Jeffrey met to discuss the run. If the room had been full of cigarette smoke, you’d have mistaken it for NASA before the first Apollo mission. I half expected John Glenn to walk into the room.

There was a general electricity and tension in the air, something like flying by the seat of your pants. Anything is possible. The driver and Christian both looked as if they were elated and about to throw up, a nervousness that wouldn’t pass until the runs were over the next afternoon.

These types of speeds aren’t normal for road cars. Race cars do it on a regular basis but not a car you can drive to your local supermarket. Even your average McLaren, Ferrari, and Lamborghini can do more than 200 mph, but it only takes about 600 horsepower to hit 200.

To hit 260-280 mph, nearly 1,400 horsepower is needed, depending on the car’s weight. For the Agera RS, that’s not a problem, which is propelled by a 1,380 horsepower twin-turbocharged V-8.

Before breaking for dinner, I asked Christian a simple question: Theoretically, what is the Agera RS geared for? With a smirk, he told me: 282 mph. “But that’s bouncing off the rev limiter,” he said, “and likely doing damage to the engine.” Definitely something no one wanted to hear. The room fell deathly silent.

After dinner, our photographers and I went back to the garage where the Koenigsegg team was keeping Mark’s Agera RS, as well as three other Agera RS models and an older CCX R. While drooling over the precious metal, Nicholas, Koenigsegg’s race-car driver, walked in to inspect the car he’d be piloting the next day one more time with the help of two of the company’s engineers.

As the guys pored over their laptops, I spoke with Nicholas and asked him what he thought would happen. “I don’t know,” he replied in a very mechanical Swedish accent. “This is very much uncharted territory. We’ve done many tests over the last month and a half, but until you’re out there driving the car, you really can’t tell.” He added, “There are many variables—wind, temperature, the road surface. We’ll see what happens.”

As we spoke, I could tell he was nervous. Nicholas is an engineer by trade. He started working at Koenigsegg when the company first launched but left to form his own engineering company that went on to build one of the cars for the Gumball 3000.

Recently, he came back as a full-fledged test driver. That was after competing in a number of racing series around the world and winning about 50 percent of his races. Not a bad stat to hang your hat on. According to Steven Wade, Koenigsegg’s head of PR who was also in attendance, the company couldn’t be happier with him. “He’s a one-man engineering and testing team.” Wade said. My fingers were crossed for him as we shook hands and said good night.

Waking to darkness, the camp at Spring Mountain Motorsports was resigned. Wind speed was slightly too high for good runs, and after I left Nicholas in the garage the night before, the engineers found a potential fuel-pump issue. To ensure that everything would go right, Nicholas took the car out on Spring Mountain’s track for a quick shakedown run.

As we all gathered atop the viewing tower, we heard him take the first straight at full bore. The sound reverberated through the mountains and sent shockwaves through our chests. An added benefit of shaking the car down before sunrise is that we were treated to the foot-long flames that spewed from the Koenigsegg’s 3D printed titanium exhaust. Suffice it to say, everyone felt a little better and a little more jovial after watching the fireworks.

One final walk around the car, and Nicholas decided that instead of trailering the Agera RS out to Highway 160, he’d give it a final shake down and drive it out there. It wasn’t far, but it seemed as if he wanted a little more time with the car before he’d make the run. I couldn’t blame him. Koenigsegg and everyone who helped make this event happen was hoping for positive results.

With the car’s owner, Mark, sitting in the passenger seat, and Nevada’s Highway Patrol at the start and far end of the 12-mile course, Nicholas and Mark went out on a scouting run just as the sun crested over the Nevada mountains.

Originally, Christian, Mark, and Nicholas had agreed that the first scouting runs would be done at around 100-130 mph, just to get the feel of the road since Nicholas had never driven it before. They ended up hitting 220 mph with ease. Mark exited the car looking like a child on Christmas morning.

Talking with Mark after the initial run, I asked him why he decided to do this. He said, “Anyone can take a specialty vehicle that’s been modified and go fast. But to take a completely production car, directly from the factory, and do this? It’s just not done.”

Progress toward the top-speed run was slow. The first trek into the unknown wasn’t made until several hours later. During that time, Nicholas completed a few more scouting runs, all of which were around the same speed as his first.

When the wind was finally calm and outside air temperatures hovered around 60 degrees, the two helicopters covering the race distance were ready. Nicholas was ready. The Swede suited up, strapped in, and looked out at the horizon toward the unfamiliar landscape. We all held our breath as Nicholas slowly crawled away from the pits.

The seconds felt like minutes, and the minutes felt like hours as we nervously waited for Nicholas’ return. Just after we nibbled our fingernails to the bone, Nicholas returned and exited the Koenigsegg’s cockpit. His demeanor was pure stoicism. You couldn’t read whether or not he had done the extraordinary.

All he said was, “It felt OK.” We had to then patiently wait for Race Logic to download the telemetry from the twin independent GPS boxes inside the car. When all was said and done, the first pass hit a staggering and record-beating 271.2 mph. The entire paddock roared as Christian embraced Nicholas and Mark. They had beaten the Nazis’ 79-year-old record.

We, however, weren’t done. Nicholas said he lifted well before the brake markers out on track. More speed was ensured. Nearly every mouth in camp dropped. Nicholas’ remained almost indifferent as he was focused on the job at hand.

The Koenigsegg’s fuel tanks topped up, Nicholas went out for another run. You could’ve heard a pin drop as everyone strained to hear the tell-tale rumble from the Koenigsegg’s mighty engine. We peered out into the highway’s haze, searching for a tiny red carbon blob in the distance. Even though visibility was near perfect, the elevation and length of the track made it nigh impossible to spot. Slowly, Nicholas and the car came into view as a mob of people went out onto the road to greet him as if he were a WWII soldier returning from battle.

The Race Logic engineer returned once more. Silence. 284.6 mph. The number was verified through both of Race Logic’s V-BOXs, as well as Koenigsegg’s own internal system and Stalker Radar’s twin radar guns. Christian said the theoretical gearing of the car only allowed for 282 mph, but they had just beaten their own calculations.

The sound everyone made in the pits is something I’ll never forget. The crowd erupted with joy. Hands were shook, backs were patted, and hugs were given. Christian looked like the happiest man in the world. However, all wasn’t finished. To shut up internet commenters, as well as other manufacturers, the Koenigsegg team decided to run the course both ways. And the average would be used as the car’s official top speed.

With another splash of fuel and a quiet drive down the 12-mile straight, Nicholas was lined up once again, ready to make history.

While the mood in the pits was more jovial as the records began to fall, the session wasn’t complete, and there was still a real presence of danger. Something could easily go wrong. Everyone wanted Nicholas to finish the task, including Nicholas. Fortunately, Nicholas wasn’t deterred and put his foot to the floor.

Unfortunately, the last top-speed run wouldn’t be as good as his last as there was a decent headwind that slowed down the Koenigsegg considerably. The final top speed, a measly 271.2 mph. However, that meant that the average between the two runs were a world-record-beating 277.9 mph. Bugatti was left in the Nevadan dust.

After everyone had congratulated Nicholas on the run, I asked him. How did the car feel hitting those speeds? “Really calm the first way,” he said. “The second, it stepped out a few meters. The car isn’t optimal driving into a headwind.” What about now being one of the fastest men on Earth? “I like to drive and go fast on tracks,” Nicholas said, “really push the car’s limits and my own. Going fast in a straight line isn’t my cup of tea. But going more than 460 kph was truly special. I’m really grateful that Christian and Mark gave me the opportunity to do this, but also Michelin for developing a tire that can do this.”

Michelin really are the unsung heroes of this entire endeavor. The car runs a standard Pilot Cup 2 tire, something you can get at nearly every auto parts store. For the run, Michelin sent Eric Schmedding, the brand’s product category manager, to make sure the tires were ready for the beating they were about to endure.

The tires performed as intended. “It’s amazing,” Eric said. “We did seven runs on the same set of tires. (Three were completed in Europe before the car had been shipped to the States.) We definitely didn’t plan that, but the tires held up. And these are tires you can order off Tire Rack. They aren’t specially made. Amazing!”

When asked whether Michelin would use the data it collected during this test for the construction of Bugatti’s special Pilot Cup 2 tires for the Chiron, Eric said the data will be used for future designs, but Koenigsegg’s specific data won’t be used for Bugatti’s Chiron project. “It’s all about different loads. The Bugatti is heavier than the Koenigsegg, and its tires will need to be designed to handle that specific load.”

Catching up with Mark, the man who actually owns the car, I asked how it felt having the fastest car in the world. “Surreal. It doesn’t even feel like anything yet.” He added, “It’s like winning the Olympics. You’re the gold-medal winner for that day and really that day alone. This, this feels absolute. It feels final.”

All, however, was not finished. On October 5, Koenigsegg had smashed the Bugatti Chiron’s insane 0-400-kph-0 record of 41.96 seconds by a whopping 5.52 seconds. That, however, was done with old tires, alloy wheels, and on a runway from the second World War. Conditions weren’t ideal, and as the highway was still closed, Koenigsegg set out to beat their own record, proving the Agera RS as the fastest car on the planet.

While not as dangerous as the top-speed runs, the 0-400-0 still represented a risk, and Nicholas maintained his steely demeanor through the two runs. The first, Nicholas hit the brakes too early, hitting 0-396-kph-0 in just 33.13 seconds. That’s still within an almost infinitesimal margin of error, but Nicholas said he could do better.

Nevertheless, during his first run, he had traveled just 2,229 meters and clocked a 9.82-second quarter mile with a trap speed of 165 mph. The car, however, needed to cool down between runs as beating on it in the desert heat had begun to take its toll.

About a half hour passed between the first and second run. Eric from Michelin used this time to inspect the tires, which to his surprise were in almost perfect condition. The multiple top-speed runs, as well as the massive acceleration and immense deceleration, hadn’t compromised the tires. They were good to go, and as soon as the car was ready Nicholas headed once more into the breach.

With our collective breaths held once again, he slammed the car from first to second to third in lightning succession. The percussive blats from the titanium exhaust we felt as much as heard. We knew this was going to be a good run. It was. When Nicholas returned, Race Logic’s engineer gave us the metrics.

Nicholas did 0-401.78-kph-0 in just 33.87 seconds. He had covered a slightly longer distance measuring 2,299 meters and had done the quarter mile in just 9.96 seconds with a trap speed of 165.93 mph. Koenigsegg not only beat their own record, but it had absolutely shattered Bugatti’s. The proverbial mic was dropped.

Speaking with Christian von Koenigsegg after all the runs were complete, he said with a laugh, “We were out here to be the fastest, not the ultimate fastest.” He added, “It’s still a customer car. It has to go to Mark at the end of the day. We didn’t want to beat it up too much, but Mark wanted records, and we delivered a record car.” Nicholas, however, said that there was still some speed left on the table. “We probably could’ve gone a bit faster,” as he finally cracked his reserved Swedish demeanor with a smirk.

Records fell, the car was returned to its owner in one piece, and we were able to witness history. Now the bar is set, and we’re eager to see what Bugatti can manage with its Teutonic powerhouse. Bugatti’s Chiron has a speedometer that goes to 300 mph, but can the Germans really top Koenigsegg’s might? Only time will tell. We can’t wait.

IFTTT

#IFTTT #Performance Junk Blogger Feed 4

[eddiejpoplar]

Koenigsegg Came to Nevada to Beat Records

Spend more than two minutes with the man, and you get the sense that, unlike for Einstein, time isn’t relative for Christian von Koenigsegg. His idea of speed, however, very much is. What we Camry, Golf, Civic, and Tahoe plebeians call potential jail time, von Koenigsegg conceptualizes as infantile crawling, a trait his mythic Scandinavian machines very much embody.

This notion of speed is also one that’s shared with his company’s owners and acolytes, and this is how we’ve come to a closed 12-mile stretch of Highway 160 just outside of Pahrump, Nevada, with a newly built Koenigsegg Agera RS and a driver ready to push the bounds of street-car physics. History definitely won’t be the same.

There are three reasons we’re here. First, Koenigsegg is attempting to beat the production-car top speed record, which is currently 267.8 mph. This was completed about seven years ago by Bugatti in a Veyron Super Sports at Volkswagen’s Ehra-Lessien test track, a track where no other manufacturer is allowed to test.

The second is to break a record that’s stood since 1938, a top speed on public roads record completed by the Nazis. The third reason is to break Koenigsegg’s own record of 0-400-kph-0, a feat the company recently achieved, one that also beat Bugatti’s own record with the newly released Chiron.

There is, however, a twist. Unlike when Bugatti goes for records and brings along an army of engineers, mechanics, and fabricators to ensure that every piece of the Veyron or Chiron is pitch perfect, this event isn’t being conducted by Koenigsegg.

Three friends—and multiple Koenigsegg owners with very deep pockets—have set up this historic event. Those friends are Jeffrey Cheng, John Morris, and Mark Stidham, the man who has graciously raised his hand and offered up his specific red and carbon Agera RS to complete these Herculean tasks.

There was some factory help, of course. Christian von Koenigsegg himself was in attendance as well as a few engineers and Koenigsegg’s own professional driver, Nicholas Lilja, who has been fine tuning the Agera RS for the last month and a half, including driving the car when the company beat Bugatti’s previous 0-400-0 record. As for finding a road fit for this kind of test, things were less simple.

Unlike Bugatti’s test track, where conditions can be monitored, variables can be controlled, and there isn’t a lick of incline, Nevada’s Highway 160 isn’t secluded. It’s lined with trees and gated security. There are elevation changes in both directions.

There aren’t any buffers for the wind like at Bugatti’s German track. And it’s at a higher elevation than nominal—although this does aid the car’s slipperiness. Koenigsegg and the gentlemen who put this event on definitely weren’t doing themselves or the car any favors.

The night before, Christian and his team along with Marc and Jeffrey met to discuss the run. If the room had been full of cigarette smoke, you’d have mistaken it for NASA before the first Apollo mission. I half expected John Glenn to walk into the room.

There was a general electricity and tension in the air, something like flying by the seat of your pants. Anything is possible. The driver and Christian both looked as if they were elated and about to throw up, a nervousness that wouldn’t pass until the runs were over the next afternoon.

These types of speeds aren’t normal for road cars. Race cars do it on a regular basis but not a car you can drive to your local supermarket. Even your average McLaren, Ferrari, and Lamborghini can do more than 200 mph, but it only takes about 600 horsepower to hit 200.

To hit 260-280 mph, nearly 1,400 horsepower is needed, depending on the car’s weight. For the Agera RS, that’s not a problem, which is propelled by a 1,380 horsepower twin-turbocharged V-8.

Before breaking for dinner, I asked Christian a simple question: Theoretically, what is the Agera RS geared for? With a smirk, he told me: 282 mph. “But that’s bouncing off the rev limiter,” he said, “and likely doing damage to the engine.” Definitely something no one wanted to hear. The room fell deathly silent.

After dinner, our photographers and I went back to the garage where the Koenigsegg team was keeping Mark’s Agera RS, as well as three other Agera RS models and an older CCX R. While drooling over the precious metal, Nicholas, Koenigsegg’s race-car driver, walked in to inspect the car he’d be piloting the next day one more time with the help of two of the company’s engineers.

As the guys pored over their laptops, I spoke with Nicholas and asked him what he thought would happen. “I don’t know,” he replied in a very mechanical Swedish accent. “This is very much uncharted territory. We’ve done many tests over the last month and a half, but until you’re out there driving the car, you really can’t tell.” He added, “There are many variables—wind, temperature, the road surface. We’ll see what happens.”

As we spoke, I could tell he was nervous. Nicholas is an engineer by trade. He started working at Koenigsegg when the company first launched but left to form his own engineering company that went on to build one of the cars for the Gumball 3000.

Recently, he came back as a full-fledged test driver. That was after competing in a number of racing series around the world and winning about 50 percent of his races. Not a bad stat to hang your hat on. According to Steven Wade, Koenigsegg’s head of PR who was also in attendance, the company couldn’t be happier with him. “He’s a one-man engineering and testing team.” Wade said. My fingers were crossed for him as we shook hands and said good night.

Waking to darkness, the camp at Spring Mountain Motorsports was resigned. Wind speed was slightly too high for good runs, and after I left Nicholas in the garage the night before, the engineers found a potential fuel-pump issue. To ensure that everything would go right, Nicholas took the car out on Spring Mountain’s track for a quick shakedown run.

As we all gathered atop the viewing tower, we heard him take the first straight at full bore. The sound reverberated through the mountains and sent shockwaves through our chests. An added benefit of shaking the car down before sunrise is that we were treated to the foot-long flames that spewed from the Koenigsegg’s 3D printed titanium exhaust. Suffice it to say, everyone felt a little better and a little more jovial after watching the fireworks.

One final walk around the car, and Nicholas decided that instead of trailering the Agera RS out to Highway 160, he’d give it a final shake down and drive it out there. It wasn’t far, but it seemed as if he wanted a little more time with the car before he’d make the run. I couldn’t blame him. Koenigsegg and everyone who helped make this event happen was hoping for positive results.

With the car’s owner, Mark, sitting in the passenger seat, and Nevada’s Highway Patrol at the start and far end of the 12-mile course, Nicholas and Mark went out on a scouting run just as the sun crested over the Nevada mountains.

Originally, Christian, Mark, and Nicholas had agreed that the first scouting runs would be done at around 100-130 mph, just to get the feel of the road since Nicholas had never driven it before. They ended up hitting 220 mph with ease. Mark exited the car looking like a child on Christmas morning.

Talking with Mark after the initial run, I asked him why he decided to do this. He said, “Anyone can take a specialty vehicle that’s been modified and go fast. But to take a completely production car, directly from the factory, and do this? It’s just not done.”

Progress toward the top-speed run was slow. The first trek into the unknown wasn’t made until several hours later. During that time, Nicholas completed a few more scouting runs, all of which were around the same speed as his first.

When the wind was finally calm and outside air temperatures hovered around 60 degrees, the two helicopters covering the race distance were ready. Nicholas was ready. The Swede suited up, strapped in, and looked out at the horizon toward the unfamiliar landscape. We all held our breath as Nicholas slowly crawled away from the pits.

The seconds felt like minutes, and the minutes felt like hours as we nervously waited for Nicholas’ return. Just after we nibbled our fingernails to the bone, Nicholas returned and exited the Koenigsegg’s cockpit. His demeanor was pure stoicism. You couldn’t read whether or not he had done the extraordinary.

All he said was, “It felt OK.” We had to then patiently wait for Race Logic to download the telemetry from the twin independent GPS boxes inside the car. When all was said and done, the first pass hit a staggering and record-beating 271.2 mph. The entire paddock roared as Christian embraced Nicholas and Mark. They had beaten the Nazis’ 79-year-old record.

We, however, weren’t done. Nicholas said he lifted well before the brake markers out on track. More speed was ensured. Nearly every mouth in camp dropped. Nicholas’ remained almost indifferent as he was focused on the job at hand.

The Koenigsegg’s fuel tanks topped up, Nicholas went out for another run. You could’ve heard a pin drop as everyone strained to hear the tell-tale rumble from the Koenigsegg’s mighty engine. We peered out into the highway’s haze, searching for a tiny red carbon blob in the distance. Even though visibility was near perfect, the elevation and length of the track made it nigh impossible to spot. Slowly, Nicholas and the car came into view as a mob of people went out onto the road to greet him as if he were a WWII soldier returning from battle.

The Race Logic engineer returned once more. Silence. 284.6 mph. The number was verified through both of Race Logic’s V-BOXs, as well as Koenigsegg’s own internal system and Stalker Radar’s twin radar guns. Christian said the theoretical gearing of the car only allowed for 282 mph, but they had just beaten their own calculations.

The sound everyone made in the pits is something I’ll never forget. The crowd erupted with joy. Hands were shook, backs were patted, and hugs were given. Christian looked like the happiest man in the world. However, all wasn’t finished. To shut up internet commenters, as well as other manufacturers, the Koenigsegg team decided to run the course both ways. And the average would be used as the car’s official top speed.

With another splash of fuel and a quiet drive down the 12-mile straight, Nicholas was lined up once again, ready to make history.

While the mood in the pits was more jovial as the records began to fall, the session wasn’t complete, and there was still a real presence of danger. Something could easily go wrong. Everyone wanted Nicholas to finish the task, including Nicholas. Fortunately, Nicholas wasn’t deterred and put his foot to the floor.

Unfortunately, the last top-speed run wouldn’t be as good as his last as there was a decent headwind that slowed down the Koenigsegg considerably. The final top speed, a measly 271.2 mph. However, that meant that the average between the two runs were a world-record-beating 277.9 mph. Bugatti was left in the Nevadan dust.

After everyone had congratulated Nicholas on the run, I asked him. How did the car feel hitting those speeds? “Really calm the first way,” he said. “The second, it stepped out a few meters. The car isn’t optimal driving into a headwind.” What about now being one of the fastest men on Earth? “I like to drive and go fast on tracks,” Nicholas said, “really push the car’s limits and my own. Going fast in a straight line isn’t my cup of tea. But going more than 460 kph was truly special. I’m really grateful that Christian and Mark gave me the opportunity to do this, but also Michelin for developing a tire that can do this.”

Michelin really are the unsung heroes of this entire endeavor. The car runs a standard Pilot Cup 2 tire, something you can get at nearly every auto parts store. For the run, Michelin sent Eric Schmedding, the brand’s product category manager, to make sure the tires were ready for the beating they were about to endure.

The tires performed as intended. “It’s amazing,” Eric said. “We did seven runs on the same set of tires. (Three were completed in Europe before the car had been shipped to the States.) We definitely didn’t plan that, but the tires held up. And these are tires you can order off Tire Rack. They aren’t specially made. Amazing!”

When asked whether Michelin would use the data it collected during this test for the construction of Bugatti’s special Pilot Cup 2 tires for the Chiron, Eric said the data will be used for future designs, but Koenigsegg’s specific data won’t be used for Bugatti’s Chiron project. “It’s all about different loads. The Bugatti is heavier than the Koenigsegg, and its tires will need to be designed to handle that specific load.”

Catching up with Mark, the man who actually owns the car, I asked how it felt having the fastest car in the world. “Surreal. It doesn’t even feel like anything yet.” He added, “It’s like winning the Olympics. You’re the gold-medal winner for that day and really that day alone. This, this feels absolute. It feels final.”

All, however, was not finished. On October 5, Koenigsegg had smashed the Bugatti Chiron’s insane 0-400-kph-0 record of 41.96 seconds by a whopping 5.52 seconds. That, however, was done with old tires, alloy wheels, and on a runway from the second World War. Conditions weren’t ideal, and as the highway was still closed, Koenigsegg set out to beat their own record, proving the Agera RS as the fastest car on the planet.

While not as dangerous as the top-speed runs, the 0-400-0 still represented a risk, and Nicholas maintained his steely demeanor through the two runs. The first, Nicholas hit the brakes too early, hitting 0-396-kph-0 in just 33.13 seconds. That’s still within an almost infinitesimal margin of error, but Nicholas said he could do better.

Nevertheless, during his first run, he had traveled just 2,229 meters and clocked a 9.82-second quarter mile with a trap speed of 165 mph. The car, however, needed to cool down between runs as beating on it in the desert heat had begun to take its toll.

About a half hour passed between the first and second run. Eric from Michelin used this time to inspect the tires, which to his surprise were in almost perfect condition. The multiple top-speed runs, as well as the massive acceleration and immense deceleration, hadn’t compromised the tires. They were good to go, and as soon as the car was ready Nicholas headed once more into the breach.

With our collective breaths held once again, he slammed the car from first to second to third in lightning succession. The percussive blats from the titanium exhaust we felt as much as heard. We knew this was going to be a good run. It was. When Nicholas returned, Race Logic’s engineer gave us the metrics.

Nicholas did 0-401.78-kph-0 in just 33.87 seconds. He had covered a slightly longer distance measuring 2,299 meters and had done the quarter mile in just 9.96 seconds with a trap speed of 165.93 mph. Koenigsegg not only beat their own record, but it had absolutely shattered Bugatti’s. The proverbial mic was dropped.

Speaking with Christian von Koenigsegg after all the runs were complete, he said with a laugh, “We were out here to be the fastest, not the ultimate fastest.” He added, “It’s still a customer car. It has to go to Mark at the end of the day. We didn’t want to beat it up too much, but Mark wanted records, and we delivered a record car.” Nicholas, however, said that there was still some speed left on the table. “We probably could’ve gone a bit faster,” as he finally cracked his reserved Swedish demeanor with a smirk.

Records fell, the car was returned to its owner in one piece, and we were able to witness history. Now the bar is set, and we’re eager to see what Bugatti can manage with its Teutonic powerhouse. Bugatti’s Chiron has a speedometer that goes to 300 mph, but can the Germans really top Koenigsegg’s might? Only time will tell. We can’t wait.

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