Everywhere James Hunter Ashby goes, he becomes the story.
From radio stations to strawberry fields, political offices to printing firms, each step in the 37-year-old's career has been smudged with newspaper ink, detailing the unusual, the unlucky and the unreal.
His infamy and reputation has bestowed him with single-name status within political circles, where he is known just as "Ashby", two syllables which have come to represent both the rise and fall of One Nation, depending on who you talk to.
Not since Peta Credlin has a staffer so captured the story, the myth blending with reality until whispered tales are simultaneously believed and dismissed.
"But this attention is different from Credlin," one conservative staffer said, on the condition of anonymity.
"People were interested in the control Credlin had in that office, and the stories that came from it, and her role in the government. But with Ashby, well, it's just Ashby, isn't it? Everything that happens, Ashby is seen as having a role, as if no one can believe that anyone else there is making decisions.
"Where Credlin was the subject of the stories – and the more the wheels came off, the bigger that subject became – Ashby is the story. I can't explain it, but it's in how people talk about him."
Talk has always followed Ashby – he's too "controlling", he's "obsessive", he wants it all. In the 45th Parliament, James Ashby is the name on everyone's lips – as long as those lips aren't identified.
"I'll tell you what I think about him, but I can't have my name attached," is the common refrain when his name is mentioned by a journalist, along with any multitude of reasons – "we have to work with him" and "words come back to bite" among the most common.
Everyone has something to say – except for Ashby himself.
"I'm not interested in any profile, thanks. I'm happy being a staffer behind the scenes, but I appreciate your offer," he messaged, in response to a request for an interview.
But no matter what career he's dabbled in, he hasn't stayed behind the scenes for long.
In 2002 he made headlines while a fledging radio broadcaster, after pleading guilty to using a carriage service in an offensive manner by "verbally harassing" a rival in Newcastle.
Ashby called his competitor telling him "next time I see you riding on your f---ing bike, I'll hit you, you dumb prick. F--- it, if I was your mother, I would have drowned you at birth."
Responding to questions after being handed a three-year good behaviour bond and a $2060 fine, Ashby passed the calls off as an "initial joke ... taken a little too far and taken a little too seriously".
"I didn't expect the reaction, that's why I called Jim immediately after I found out he'd taken them the wrong way and apologised. This was well before any charges were laid," he said.
From there, Ashby headed to Townsville, where in 2005, he made the news again after his business, Newa Image Printers, was robbed of more than $12,000 in computer equipment in a "brazen daylight theft".
He made his way back down the Queensland coast to his home region of the Sunshine Coast, where he began working at a strawberry farm, his name reappearing in news ink when it became the scene of an attempted crop poisoning.
Poison was discovered in a water tank, and Ashby, as the farm's PR spokesman, was sent out to give comment to the media, labelling the attempted agricultural sabotage as "disturbing".
Around the same time, he also began helping the state LNP with its social media campaigns.
"He recognised its power on the political scene earlier than most," someone close to the LNP campaigns said. "And it's something he's still good at – you've seen Pauline's social media. One Nation is bypassing the mainstream media almost entirely now. That's got to be him. He knows it's a way to get a lot of eyeballs on an unfiltered message.
"That isn't Pauline Hanson tweeting under that handle.
"It's smart and terrifying. A lot like how I'd describe him, to be honest."
Margaret Menzel, chief of staff to former One Nation senator Rod Culleton, fell out early with Ashby when she overheard him questioning her appointment. The relationship never recovered, culminating in a phone-throwing incident – the second attached to Ashby – and the long term politico has nothing positive to impart.
"There is no reason, why, I could, in all fairness, recommend him to a voter," she said.
"I haven't seen anything I could recommend. That's all I'll say."
He left the LNP to work for Peter Slipper – and the rest is history. For most, that saga would have been the end, but James Ashby has never followed established narratives.
The minority Gillard government had enticed Slipper from the Liberal Party to the crossbench with the speaker's robes – a move designed to shore up its numbers in a tight Parliament. Ashby went with him, a loyal lieutenant, until 2012, when he accused the Sunshine Coast MP of sexual harassment, the allegation and resulting fallout soon catching Coalition heavyweights in its wake.
Slipper resigned as speaker and was defeated at the next election.
A federal court threw out the case, finding its "predominant purpose for bringing these proceedings was to pursue a political attack against Mr Slipper". Ashby challenged those findings, and despite a procedural win along the way, he decided to drop the case in 2014.
In mid-2015 rumours began filtering through the Sunshine state that Ashby had revived his political career and was working with Pauline Hanson, flying her across Queensland in her latest bid to win a Senate seat.
He consented to cautious interviews, telling the media he had come across Hanson during his Newcastle radio career and she had struck a chord with him.
Described as "shy, a little jumpy" by some of those he came across on the hustings, he went from pilot to adviser in quick succession, the time the pair spent in the two-seated Jabiru light airplane forging the closest of relationships. Hanson even referred to Ashby as her "adopted son".
Since returning to halls of Parliament House, he's placed himself front and centre of the background.
He's always in shot. Always in the crowd. Watching press conferences, filming protests, never far from Pauline while she's in public, in and out of offices when she's not.
He has asked to see the diaries of all One Nation senators, has been involved in the hiring of their staffers.
Jim Savage, One Nation's Queensland state secretary in charge of the region which remains the party's number one target and biggest supporter base, describes his leader's right-hand man as "very likeable, very professional".
Recent changes within the party's organisation and its candidates – just weeks after they were first announced – have been laid squarely at Ashby's feet.
"I've read all the comments about him – I can't see it. All my dealings with James have been great," he said.
"It's like you're talking about two different people."
Which is the most common theme, when talking about James Ashby.
He's alternatively painted as the Iago to Hanson's general, the raven on her shoulder, slowly bringing about the party's downfall, in his own quest for power, vengeance and control, and the dedicated, wiser, prodigal son, determined to support the party to long-term success and victory.
But whatever the ultimate answer, he remains the story.
"When an adviser gets a taste for the media, it always ends badly," one long-term political operative said.
"It just depends for whom."
