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12 days ago
What the fuck are you people talking about
15 days ago
Check the file type and then just refresh maybe
15 days ago
worse statuses have been posted
19 days ago
Sometimes I forget you were ever fucking on this site at all and it gives me whiplash

Bio



I invented necromancy and the windmill. I beat the sun in a poker match during the summer of 1273 and God hasn't felt the same since.


Most Recent Posts

I redid character relations for Jack and Stormy

Amara can go fuck herself with a phantom for now




In SPIRITUM 7 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay




An explosion seemed adequate in dealing with these machines. Silje's barrier contained it enough to make an interesting death for the one that Morden had tossed into the mist pocket. Sure enough, more of them were dying thanks to Val and Gerard, and of course Justice and Kalina ere already on the retreat. Morden was more than just a meat shield, he had a functioning brain in that impossibly thick skull of his. He knew when they were outmatched- One off-duty squad versus an unknown number of these things, all of which were in different conditions. The odds didn't favor them, so Morden started off to cover the retreat. As more of the machines rose from the wreckage, he swiftly moved to clobber them. Less to harm them, more to keep them on the backfoot as others ran off to grab the truck, especially since there was a hostage and-or diplomatic figure in tow with them now. The princess was on that airship...

Were they intent on a fake negotiation?

Morden quickly hopped in at the rear end of the truck, in case something caught up to them and he had to jump back out to beat something silly.

"Go!"
Richter heeded Shattercrash's words with just the slightest pause.

Ironsides was tough, to be sure, but even the strongest metals had a breaking point. And with his power, finding what that point was and taking advantage of it would be a breeze. Briefly, he wondered what would happen to the person under all of that metal once he started destroying it—if there even was one. He never bothered to ask whether the transformation was just skin deep or more extensive, but it was too late for that. He had no intention of stopping now regardless. It still begged the question though—would he be able to take Ironsides down without killing or crippling him if it was the latter? Probably not; he didn't have that much confidence in his control. But even if he did fail, what would it matter? It wasn't like the guy didn't deserve it.

Sucks to suck.

Despite his morbid thoughts, Richter didn't pause in his advance. He moved quickly, taking advantage of the fact that Ironsides was still off-balance from Shattercrash's attack and ignoring the ground shaking beneath his feet. It didn't affect him, after all. With his left arm outstretched, his fingertips almost made contact with the mercenary's costume.

He felt it disintegrate beneath his touch, falling apart into a billion minuscule pieces, and he grinned. That feeling was always a bit of a rush. It almost made it worth it. Almost.

Now, for the rest of him.

Ironsides was not alarmed by the sight of his Liquid Metal going up in fragments. Quite the opposite, in fact. Rather, he laughed at Richter, and swung his arms in the boy’s direction. Sure enough, there was a gaping hole in the liquid that was quickly being filled in as more was generated. Blobs of the stuff sloshed off of his arms into the air, threatening to rain down onto Richter.

Meanwhile, Shattercrash was running around the back to flank Ironsides.

Decree’s voice suddenly blared to life on the public address system the moment Ironsides was about to swing his arms.

"Throw a left hook to the boy’s left side!" Boomed the disembodied voice.

It would be rather easy for Richter to work out, through how Decree’s power worked, that this would cause Ironsides to subconsciously attack in the same manner as her words. In essence, she was giving them a running forecast of all of Ironsides’ attacks. Even if Ironsides tried to resist, he’d have to take time to think of a new attack, and those valuable few moments would give them a window.

Decree continued to watch the fight from the monitors in the teller’s office, taking note of Shattercrash’s change of position, and that Richter’s attacks were making metal rain down. That could be trouble.

Well, that was less than effective.
Ironsides might have been covered in metal, but its liquid nature made actually damaging him more difficult than expected. Richter had never quite gotten the hang of sending vibrations through liquids. It felt weird in a way he couldn’t quite describe. He made a note to rectify that after this. It was a failure on his part to have not done so before.
It was raining metal now. None of it would be able to touch him, but he wasn’t going to take hits he didn’t have to, especially when he wasn’t familiar with the properties of Ironsides power. Richter bobbed and weaved between the rain of liquid metal to avoid getting hit, a slight grimace of annoyance on his face. It seemed as if half-hearted attacks wouldn’t work here; he had to hit him harder. And that meant he needed to get closer again.
Easier said than done.
A sudden voice almost made him lose focus, but Ironsides wasn’t as lucky. For some reason, he was following what the voice said. It was as if–[i]oh[i]. So, that’s what it was like in action. Interesting.
Well, scratch that last thought, then. Decree intervened at the perfect time.
The mercenary’s swing went wide, missing Richter by a mile and giving him the chance to counter, which he took without hesitation. This time he made sure to aim higher.
He should’ve gone for the head in the first place.
Ironsides was smarter than that. As his fist went left, the back of his hand went right in a heavy, power-supported bitchslap. He took a wide step forward, and Richter’s strike ended up hitting Ironsides in the chest, right as his massive hand was closing in to smack him silly.

This was the point when a quick flare of violet light shone behind him, as Shattercrash leapt into the air to drive her foot into the villain’s temple. Rather than clock Richter into the ground, his strike went over the boy’s head.

Decree’s brow furrowed as she watched the monitor. He took her command in stride. Of course, they were dealing with pros, after all. She needed to think bigger. A choice that would give them a more tangible advantage if telegraphed. She pressed the intercom button again.

"Turn to face the girl behind you."

Sure enough, Ironsides stopped dead a hair before his hand made contact with Richter’s face. His body twisted around and his face met a neon-glowing knee to the face.

Bits of liquified metal splattered outwards, and Ironsides barely flinched.

Shattercrash, not fully balanced, was smacked like a balloon and hurtled into a wall. There was a flash of pink light that cushioned her impact slightly and allowed her to fall in one piece.

”You kids really think you’re something, don’t you?” He asked, taunting them.
Richter barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes at Ironsides’s words. These types were always fond of running their mouths, especially when someone like him was involved.
His hands snapped upwards, clutching the mercenary’s wrist. Solid or otherwise, everything had a breaking point. He hadn’t been able to find Ironsides’ before, but Decree’s most recent intervention gave him the chance. Now in direct contact with his “body“, Richter had an easier time with things, sending vibrations from palm to palm, bouncing them back and forth to intensify them by the moment. His mind ran through all the necessary calculations, adjusting his field all the while.
It didn’t usually take this long to find something’s resonance frequency, but then, he’d never fought someone made of liquid metal before either.
Decree felt her whole body tense as she watched the fight unfold. Had Richter got him? Was it over? Had she helped?
Metal splattered onto the walls and sprayed everywhere as it was ripped apart, leaving their surroundings defaced. Richter got him good with that one, but he would be able to realize quite quickly that Ironsides’ protection had an ablative element to it. In simpler terms, the more he destroyed, the more appeared, like the neck of a hydra. It was as if there was no end to the silvery substance that Ironsides’ power could produce, and all of it seemed to slither inwards and around Richter’s hands.
Even as it did so, it was being eaten away at an alarming rate, while more of it coalesced into a puddle at their feet.
One could hear the smile in his voice. ”Bad move, brat.”
In the blink of an eye, the two fell through the puddle of metal. To Richter, it would feel like being dragged deep underwater. There was nothing but a pale void around him, and not an atom of oxygen to breathe. Yet just as that became a problem, Richter would find himself flying back to reality again, dragged out by Ironsides. They had been teleported through one metal puddle to another, only a few feet away from their starting point. And they were falling.
Ironsides slammed Richter into the floor, propelled by the force of travelling through the puddles.
Shattercrashed charged to knock Ironsides off of him, but he flicked his wrist and tripped her over with a splash of metal.
Decree’s voice caught in her throat. What should she say? Nothing was going the way she imagined. Every command she’d tried so far, Ironsides had been able to take in stride. She needed to think. There must be something she could say right now that wouldn’t make things worse. She tried to rack her brain, but she was too panicked to hold a train of thought for more than a second.
”You heroes don’t get it. Do you?” Isonsides asked. ”You can’t beat people like me.”
Well, shit.
This was bad.
Richter knew this would be a pain. Fighting someone who wanted to kill him with no weapons and barely any intel was a plan doomed to fail from the start.
The metal coating Ironsides seemed to have no end to it. It flowed over his hands even as it was being ripped apart, and he tried not to think about what would have happened if his field wasn’t there. It kept the mercenary from actually touching him, but that didn’t stop his head from ringing when he was slammed into the floor from nearly a full storey up.
Cyka!
Despite everything, Richter wasn’t overly shaken. He wasn’t out for the count just yet either; he still had a few tricks up his sleeve, and while he was never one to rush results, he might not have a choice. He didn’t particularly fancy trying some of the options he was considering. Especially since one of them would probably–no, definitely kill most everyone in the building, so that was right out. For now.
Well.... if it came down to kill or be killed, all bets were off, though. What was a little pain if it meant walking out alive?
This whole hero thing didn’t suit him, anyway.
In spite of himself, Richter couldn’t help but clench his teeth and roll his eyes at Ironsides’s little tirade. Kids this, heroes that. He must have really liked the sound of his own voice. So annoying.
“Do you ever shut up?”
Anyway, it was time for him to do something about this situation he found himself in. Richter raised his left arm above his head, fingers extended and palm flat, and with barely a second of thought, a series of high-frequency vibrations started around the edge of his hand. At first glance, it appeared as if his hand was vibrating. Of course, that wasn’t exactly the case; such a thing was still a bit beyond him. All he was doing was using some applied physics he’d only ever seen once. In a videogame.
What was that game’s name again? Ah, whatever, he’d figure it out later.
He brought it down to sever the mercenary’s hand at the wrist with a speed that surprised even him.
Silver mixed with red, and bits of what was probably armor. Richter’s vibration chop did something. But unfortunately, the hand was still attached.
Ironsides howled, and it was like a bear roaring. With his other hand, he slugged Richter across the face, grabbed him by the throat, and flung him into the wall.
”If you’re going to fight in this city, then you better have something stronger than that!” He shouted, his damaged hand going limp. ”You’re weak! You’re just kids! Go home, run to your families and forget about this! What makes you think you have a chance against people like me?!”
”Because we said so.”
Ironsides almost didn’t register that voice. He almost didn’t turn around, but then he recognized it a split second later. And his blood ran cold all of a sudden. It couldn’t be.
The metallic giant turned around and laid eyes on a cape in solid steel armor evocative of knights. Gleaming gold crested his shoulders in the shape of palisades, trailing down to gauntlets that looked like they were sculpted from the scales of dragons. Spikes jutted out from his boots, which were wrapped up in a strange, warm glow.
He wore a helmet that had only darkness behind its visor, wreathed in a crown of swooping lines. Hanging off of his shoulders was a cape of royal blue, tattered and frayed at the ends with battle damage.
Hellstar.
Ironsides didn’t move.
”Hey- Hey now, what are you doing here? They benched you. They- Fuck-“ He took a step back, as Hellstar took a step forward. Then another, and another still.
”Let me make your situation perfectly clear, Ironsides.” He walked forward with ominous serenity, the air in the lobby sparked as his hands swept past it.
”You just tried to kill a Ward of the city, and you’re robbing a bank,” he explained, while Ironsides kept walking back. ”And you’ve seriously pissed me off.”
”Get- Back up, you son of a bitch!” Ironsides barked, and his voice was devoid of all the bravado he had ten seconds ago. ”This doesn’t involve you!”
”It does now.”
”Fuck-Fuck-Fuckfuckfuck-“












Jack saw the creature pop out out a portal and shake the ground with its presence. He saw 8th Street walk out from behind it, too many for most of the coven to realistically take on directly. Far off in the distance, to his left and somewhat behind him, he could see walls of ice rising up as a strange field of energy bisected it. If his memory served, that was Briana's anti-teleportation spell. Jack got fucked over by that a time or two on his tracking runs... Emily was there. Vashti was there, and was about to get slugged by a glowing hot Linqian. Was she fucking insane? Jack had half a mind to drop a Void portal under her feet just to save her from getting dogpiled by that many people.

Instead, he decided to play this smart. If she wanted to bang knuckles with the likes of Babylon and fucking George, then Jack could at least give her some quiet support.

Meanwhile, a roundshield formed over Stormy's wrist like an instinct. He eyed the hulking behemoth and assumed it was some form of Abominable or an Apparition. He didn't recognize some of them, but his attention was grabbed by Luca getting in between them and Britney. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-

"He can't get in there and fight in his-"

The house was on fire before he could even finish his sentence. Stormy flinched as it just started to spontaneously combust, only for Emily to shoot a flaming skull at it. More shields manifested to block any bits of debris or shrapnel that might've been thrown his and Drake's way.

Fuck.

"Drake- Let's go. I'm with you." Ignoring Drake's comment about Luna fighting them, His free hand began to glow the usual green shade of all his auras. "Take this, get in their faces and Emily can't burn you. Do it quick, before they can start throwing more magic out and make it less effective," he said, voice just low enough only he, Sully, Luna and Tayla could hear. "Luca's going to get himself killed and I do not trust Linqian to take on that many people alone, I'll be right behind you." All Drake had to do was tap his hand against Stormy's, and he would be given a Phantombane aura, to help him run into the fray with a bit more insurance.

In the aftermath of that miniature red sun produced by Emily, something appeared. The light emitted from it allowed for something to be manifest in the shadows cast. It was a vague humanoid shape made of darkness, like something from a nightmare. It appeared in a puff of black smoke with a zombie-like gait, and swung a solid fist aimed at Aaron's, a cheap shot at the guy who pulled out a gun. It was supposed to get his attention and distract him, even if only long enough for him to break the trick like glass with a bullet.

Meanwhile, in the upper floor of the house, Amara was in a frenzy. The explosion from Emily's abstraction means the front door and most of the lower floor itself weren't options. She kicked in the only remaining door she hadn't tried, and found Sloane and Lynn minding their own business.

In her hands was a .45 caliber pistol with a hefty suppressor on the end, pointed down to the floor. Red flames, broken pieces of the walls and smoke blazed around her, but she wasn't alone. As she stepped into the door, three ethereal figures in the shape of humanoids filled the room. They were featureless, except for different hairstyles and matching pairs of glowing yellow orbs for eyes. These were the ghostly fighters in the Army of One.

"Stairs are cut off!" she said, holstering her gun and tipping the dresser over. Now on its side, the three of them had an anchor. "Piece of the roof just caved in over them, we'll have to go through the windows! If we're fast, we can get out over the fire... The trees should be fine still!"

One of the phantoms ran over to a dresser, pulled a drawer out and swung it at the window to shatter it. Another swing knocked out extra glass, and a third seemed to satisfy the phantom. Another phantom came over and pulled the curtains off of the window, ripping them in half with the first to knot them into a long rope. The third picked up the now-empty drawer and tied it into weight.

"Give me that-" Amara took the makeshift grappling hook and hooked the hope around the weight in broad loops, knotting them so there were extra ways for it to catch. Amara leaned out the window with the air of a phantom, holding her breath for the smoke, and spun the contraption like a lasso. It caught around the chimney, and she gave the other end to a second phantom, who silently leapt out the window and hung right above the flames. The third phantom ran out, catching the second's hand and slid down to the ground where everyone could see.

"The phantoms are gonna catch you, that one will shield you from the fire for when you drop down, the second is gonna break your fall-" The remaining phantom demonstrated by jumping out, latching onto the hanging phantom. It was tossed further away from the reach of the fire before getting caught in a full body grapple by the one on the ground.

"Go! She can't stay like that for long!" The phantoms were technically undead, but demonic hellfire surely didn't discriminate. It would only be a matter of time before the phantom cooking over the fire, and the rope it hung from, would be burned away. With the stairs and most of the bottom floor going up in flames, they didn't have long.

As the jet landed down on the strange pad, the mutants gathered around would feel their minds invaded like cold water down burnt skin. Ryder dropped out of the ruined aircraft and glared at the man with the metal helmet. His kind was untouchable, but he was the easiest target here. One flick of her wrist, and that covering would be buried in his rib cage faster than he could blink.

She was scanning the others’ minds for evidence on Cylcops. All the while, she reached out with her telepathy to find that, sure enough, he was alive and was being taken care of at the very least. That was one problem taken care of for the time being. The other was was in front of her. She had no idea where she was, the jet’s radar didn’t give any indication of this being here. Ryder just looked away for a second, and some force took her here. So something unusual was going on without a doubt.

”Not sure who the hell you are, but I’m leaving with the guy who can actually fly this thing. You can try and stop me if you think you’ll survive, but I’m not in a great mood right now,” she warned.

”You’ve got ten seconds to explain yourselves before I start destroying this. Start talking.”

Interactions: Drake and Sully
Kari's house



Another fucking recollection?

This one made Stormy’s jaw clench a little. 8th Street had been here, they had come and desecrated a kind girl’s home. They came and took notes that Kari had, but what did those notes hold? Stormy never knew Emily to be the academic type, or most of her “friends” for that matter… It seemed like someone was paying them. Or they were going to use the notes to their advantage somehow. Maybe they had a buyer. He wasn’t sure, but Drake knew more about them.

Once it ended, he looked around at everyone. Luna wasn’t in much of a position to fight. Drake just got his soul damn near knocked loose. It was almost funny how quickly things like these got out of hand. But now that they had some more information, maybe it would be more in hand.

Stormy walked over to Drake and Sully. ”Listen, I’m not actually angry with you. Sorry if it sounded like it- We can talk about that later,” he said, sincerely. ”But for now… You saw that too, right? Is it possible that Kari could be doing that to us? Showing us that recollection? Maybe a spell that transferred information when someone went investigating?”

He looked up at the house. ”Ken isn’t going to like this.”


Interactions: The Coven
Kari's House



When Sloane pulled a knife on him, he didn’t flinch. He was like a statue, just leveling that dead-eyed stare at her until she put the weapon away. It was a habit of his to always arrive in such a poor fashion, one that gave him quite the experience with a certain federal agent. But he was dramatic like that. And besides, the coven could stand to stay on their toes a little more often with this serial killer business.

”I see you’re ready for anyth-“ He was cut off by Lynn jumping back to the land of the living. She began ranting and raving about the possibilities that surrounded Kari. It was always worth listening to her, so he did just that. Lynn’s predictions were incredibly narrow in this case, and that was a surprise.

”Those odds are rare for you,” he acknowledged. It wasn’t a guarantee, but whenever there was a considerable chance, one had to consider it. So of course, Jack took the warning to heart. He looked at Sloane, who obviously didn’t care much for the predictions. ”I’ll help search, in case Lynn’s prediction doesn’t come to pass. But first, I’ll inform everyone else. If this is a false alarm, I’ll be back shortly.”

Jack walked out of the room, and used his magic to get around the place in the span of seconds. The basement first, then the ground by the door, then the woods with that mafia bitch. Everyone was given the same quick message: ”Lynn is almost certain we are about to be attacked by the 8th Street Coven. Be prepared, in case she is right.”

And then once everyone here today had that warning, he teleported himself into a tree overlooking the house. Obscured from sight between the leaves, he knelt on a thick branch. He could see everything from here, and quickly maneuver around attackers if they did decide to strike.

Interactions: Tsukino and Drake
Kari's house



Stormy did as Drake asked, dropping the shields and letting the whole thing slide. Ten years hadn't left him lacking the memories of the things they had to face as children, not at all. But Stormy was thinking of the big picture here. Yes, they were being picked off, and yes, Tsukino was a problem they had to deal with back then. But they didn't have much to go off of now, and jumping the gun like this worried Stormy. And when Stormy began to worry about people, he worried a lot.

Tayla stepping in seemed justifiable, when she pointed out that she could feel the hostility on the woman. But... Didn't she sever a long time ago?

Odd.

”It could be that Wolf Bastard for all we know! That would make sense, wouldn't it? A lot of sense. And even if she isn't working with or for Father Wolf, you haven't been in St. Portwel in over ten years, Stormy. Some of the groups that call St. Portwell home...?"

”... Yeah, you can't play softball with them.”


"I think we would've caught Father Wolf sooner if it was this easy to capture her," he responded, and was going to respond to Drake again before Sully came in like a freight train and tackled the man.... Ouch. Sully could probably fix that. Probably. He let Tsukino down when she started writing around in his arms. Only for her to fall to the ground limb as a stick.

“This isn't fucking fair. I'm just trying to help you. Don't you know I have friends that can help with your little problem?”


"If that were the case, why didn't you approach us openly? You could have done so sooner, or waited until we were done investigating the house. You could've even done it while we were here. I'd be lying if I didn't understand why Drake felt the need to attack you," he said patiently, keeping close to her in case she tried anything funny.

"You were one of us, Tsukino. I'm almost positive Auri tried to reach out to you. And if she did, you had to have known stalking us would've been a bad decision, when all of us are very capable of defending ourselves. So why? Talk us through that."


Interactions: The Coven
The Shadowzone > Kari's House



By the time Jack even thought to check the time again, he had sped through the rest of his books in a frenzy to find something they could work with. His books on the Pit mentioned ways one could break out in theory, but he had no proof that Raven or Sunshine actually left the Pit. He had nothing of real substance here. Pieces of knowledge that could help the others to approximate an answer two, yes. Maybe even another lead to pursue, but not an answer in sight. Jack enjoyed being in the dark, but not in this meaning of the word. It frustrated him to not know something about the paranormal world, but he could manage. The answers would come in time, and time was a place he needed to return to.

Shadows lifted books from the desk to their resting places on the shelves, and Jack marked one with his Blackout Shift spell. He grabbed his channeler off of the desk and made a portal into Shimmer. Hopefully there hadn't been anything particularly eventful...

A black, swirling disc of energy appeared in Kari's bedroom, without a sound to be heard. Jack could hear a void through the other side, growing more clear by the second starting at the sound of being underwater. His boots touched the floor in equal silence, and found himself standing behind Sloane and Lynn, who was clearly exploring the future.

“You set a bad example. We’re supposed to be searching the house, not sitting around doing nothing. Really, I can’t believe how unhelpful you’re being. This is a group effort. You think you’d at the very least tolerate being in the same room with them. Can’t even make it through a single meeting without starting a fight. You’re such an embarrassment. Why would they even invite you? If we accomplish nothing again it’s all your fault.”


Was she talking about herself?

"You aren't responsible for everything, my friend," he said, breaking the illusion that she was alone at last. He was terrible about announcing his presence this way.

Interactions: Tsukino, Drake and Sully
Kari's house



God. Fucking. Damn.

Luna was only getting more agitated, and Drake was the one to light the powder keg. Sully just happened to follow them right in time to see Drake blast Luna off her perch. Was he out of his mind? Sure, they were getting heated, but attacking her was going from a three to a ten immediately. He made a mental note to get on Drake’s ass about that. First Sloane, now Luna, he didn't like that pattern.

Sure enough, Luna tipped and fell over as she displayed her magic. The Stoic Shell evaporated and Stormy booked it over to her point of impact. When Luna was close to the ground, Stormy caught her in his arms. A moment later, multiple circular shields formed in the air to put a wall between Drake and Stormy. Just in case he had the bright idea to throw a lightning bolt at her or something.

”Drake! That’s enough!” He shouted, loud enough for Drake to hear from in the air. ”I’ve got her! Drop your weapon! This isn’t getting us anywhere!”

He motioned for Sully to come over, that shock looked painful. ”You and I are going to have a long and thorough discussion about escalating later, Drake.” he said, before turning his attention to Luna.

”Can you stand?”

Location: Who the Fuck is Baldur
Skills:
WHAT. THE. FUCK.





From Leah’s point of view, it seemed like Ed has struck her down for her hubris. In a moment’s notice, Leah was no longer in the sky, soaring across everything below her as she did years ago. Now, she was in some fleshy, wretched pit without an ounce of geological material in sight. It was abrupt, and she wasn’t the only one here. And… Her skin was green. Why the fuck was she green?

Leah was suddenly in some weird mix of leather and fur. Like armor made from a dead animal, which showed off her stomach… Was Ed doing that one purpose? He better not have been. Others were with him, the Murdertwink that Dorian was dating, along with Danni and Diana. They were all some sort of fantasy thing like her. Leah looked down and realized a big fuck-off axe was in her hands. Light as a feather for someone with her strength, but it looked mean.

Leah noticed they were being attacked. A bunch of tiny infantile demons were clambering towards them. Somewhere out in the universe, there was a wizard laughing at the thought of this.

”You have got to be fucking kidding me. Alright, whack-a-baby. Why not!” This was fucked.

Leah didn’t know what a “Nautiloid” was, or what a Baldur’s Gate lead to. But what she did know is that this was just a video game, so killing the imps wasn’t that big of a deal. After Mads set one on fire, Leah took a swing. She raised the axe up high over her head and the devil fetuses were unharmed- She missed!

Fuck!
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