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9 mos ago
Current 10+ years of an RP idea, finally finished, on 10.10.2025. Goodnight Raven Squad, you were the best, wildest, most silly near future SOF RP that lived on the guild, and you got a worthy send off :)
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Bio

I've RP'd for the best part of over 15 years now here on the Guild, and particularly like military settings, both contemporary, past and near future. I have even dabbled in a little more experimental RPs, as well as created a plethora of 1x1s over my time in the guild. I like creating RPs with a distinct flavour- and often shift between narrative-led RPs to semi-randomised plots. I've been more a GM lately than a player, and don't really lean into fandom- instead, exploring my own universes lifting themes from other source material.

My main interests are military-themed, near-future RPs, with a focus on technology. But I'm beginning to push what that RP idea looks like- taking inspiration from lots of media and focussing on the fun, indulgent side of RP, whilst also exploring the lows and emotional side.

roleplayerguild.com/topics/190121-rav…

Raven Squad is a project over seven years in the making, and focusses on a class-based, eccentric yet half-grounded near future special forces team that acts as a response team where you can't send any special forces team in. It's incredibly dumb, incredibly loose, and yet, has delivered some of my favourite plot points in RPG. A brainless action flick a la John Wick and Kingsman meets a complex thriller with a fun left turn in it, Raven has been the culmination of over a decade of loving special forces RPG, gaming influences and other silliness in a package that has provided players with something quite different to a normal military themed RPG. While at an end, this is an RP that is a signature- it's silly as hell, takes itself barely seriously, and is what peak fun military RPG to me should be.

roleplayerguild.com/topics/192916-del…

Delta Hyper is a love letter to Wipeout, F1's Drive to Survive (Netflix) and contemporary Formula One, with influences from solarpunk, cyberpunk, transhumanism and other posthumanist concepts. An RP that follows pilots in their ups and downs, it's a story that hasn't got me playing an actual character, but framing the camera at each pilot (played by others), and presenting it as if it were a documentary. Lifting elements from TTRPG, this is a Racing RPG like no other and no parallel exists- using dice rolls and randomisation, with a stats-driven system to generate race results, rather than actually RPing the races, players experience the fast-paced, dynamic world of anti-gravity racing. This means that come Qualifying and Race, the results are genuinely a surprise to everyone- and based on decisions made through dilemmas and decisions made between races. Friendships, rivalry, the glamour and even a little political undertone play out in 2094, in a colourful, utopian future that focuses on the fight to take first place.

roleplayerguild.com/topics/196931-tac…

Then there's Tactical Breach Wizards: Fireteam Hex. First use of any set IP as a formal setting, this is an RP that offers a darker mirror to Raven Squad, focussing on the other side of the equation- unlikely heroes in an uncomfortable position. I don't normally do fantasy, but the world, the lore, the feeling of the characters and the ability to write a comedy just was too difficult to pass up. An RP that focuses on a group running away from a variety of threats as wanted mercenary wizards in the middle of a post-revolution, Eastern-Europe adjacent 1990s to present Polavia.

roleplayerguild.com/topics/197399-dis…

Lastly, Dispatch: Heroes of Claremont. This is another IP-adjacent world, albeit drawing on a different setting and a new cast of superheroes. As my "first" proper superhero RP, this combines workplace comedy, a Storyteller-lite system and a fun, diverse, and large cast together in a dynamic, diverse setting.

I'm pretty flexible and try and get back to people on ideas and responses, but sometimes, I may become very busy and it will take some time till I am un-busy. I aim to clear posts within a week!

Most Recent Posts

Day 2: 00:45:10
Outside of Koley Railyard, Koley,
Libor Province,
Republic of Polavia


The fight was going nicely. About as good as it could considering they were not meant to be in full blown warfare with a forest behind them gently catching alight, but armed recon in stealth. Silas and Rowan on the flank were dragging bullets their way, the poison gas and Rowan's magic were making them think differently, while Borys was moving up on Felix. The Libolian wasn't quite sure what was going on, but Borys decided to take matters into his own hands.

Well, fingers, as Felix was about to kick the shit out of him as Borys pulled his finger out, the gag interrupting Felix's words....

"Borys, the fuck are you...."

BLRUGH.

Felix immediately chundered out a mass of...what can only be not described, and immediately cleaned up his mouth, so close to just putting a bullet into the pisshead, him thinking this was a game. Silas and Rowan were laying down fire effectively, 12.7mm rounds slamming into trees, as Felix put two and two together. And realised what Borys was trying to do. A bit of sick had landed on Borys, mind.

Suddenly feeling rough yet pumped with adrenaline, Felix decided to take a little imitative, breaching fibreoptic in hand, feeling the mana burn a little inside of him, the reserve tanks on for energy inside to get him through this fight. As any good operative would need to do. He hoped the team had his back, looking at Borys square.

"Stop fucking drinking and start shooting." Felix tapped Borys on the shoulder, and the lion that Felix switched to nearly barged him over.

Clearing the ground through the grass, what looked like Felix was just running out into the open, the MG switching to blast fire onto Felix, the illusion falling apart, and the lion, what the PSA militia thought was actually the illusion, kept going.

Diving into the back of the UAZ, the distraction was grateful, as Oksana took the opportunity of the gunner and the remaining fireteam pulled in too many different directions to act, into actually getting a bead on the gunner. And that she did. The bullet felt divined, in how it covered about 150m of ground and splattered into the gunner's head, before Felix casually took a chunk out of one of the guys taking cover behind it, a filet steak sized portion of shoulder and neck that crunched in his teeth like butter.

The others cleaned up nicely, Oksana pipping two more in the rocks in the clearing, easily putting them out with surgically placed bullets.

Felix showed in that moment, why perhaps maybe his ability was a little bit broken.

The last man standing, the former driver screamed as he tried to run, but Felix was so much faster. He didn't play with his food. He just went for the neck and thorax, jaw peeling him apart like a tangerine, spitting out the bits of lung he'd caught that he really wasn't a fan of. His digestive system, and his lion's were a little different. And now all of Babushka's food being empty in his human form had meant that as a lion, he had a gap to fill.

The lion turned back around, playfully running along as Oksana ran down the hill, all enemies clear, their team leader unable to communicate but from his enhanced hearing and sight, not seeing much. A graceful ginger-haired lion covered in blood in the middle of a chilly Polavian forest felt a little contradictory, but hey, he didn't choose this life.

"You diabolical fuck!" Oksana called out almost in shock, as Felix gave a playful roar, a grin if possible on the lion's face that they were out of the woods. He made a move to the UAZ, shifting back, looking around as he broke into a jog, taking in his handiwork. A little almost embarrassed, but, impressed at the same time by Borys unleashing him.

"I'll give Borys credit where due. Consider a career as a beastmaster if this shit doesn't work out because....nobody's made me be sick for that. Please don't be sick yourselves. I'm uhh....cannot help it. I'm a pescatarian!" Felix added, awkward, as the Polavian sniper jogged down, Oksana looking at the state of the body by the UAZ, accustomed to the images on the internal emails that emerged when he was at work.

"I'd have been sick by now if I wasn't. Ammo is getting low my end. We got a plan apart from getting shot by another patrol and you feasting on medium rare Polavian at Mach Fuck?" The Polavian dryly retorted, flicking a new magazine in, direct in thoughts.

The sound of tracks rustling in the distance and a train horn made echoed made a plan for the unofficial team leader quickly.

"Idea. Rowan, jump up on the DShK. I'll drive.....we have a train to catch, if it's cargo, we can sneak aboard. You're right that the resistance is too heavy, we're going to get squished if we head to the trainyard with this lot on us. Just means we need to burn any tail first." Felix asked, as Oksana looked around.

"Easier said than done. Polavian trains do not slow down for anyone. Big efficiency drive. Mostly because the train drivers get to finish once they complete their shift. Our window is small." Oksana retorted, realising that Felix was proposing jumping onto the train. A poor idea in a field of potato-powered bullshit and very rare human meat.

"Well, that sounds like an even bigger win to me. They in the pocket of the Albani?"

The team clambered in, as Oksana replied to Felix's question, loosely sitting in the back of the open-topped communist jeep, loading a new mag into her Vityaz, counting her remainders out.

"Mostly not. Don't need to pay them when the containers are." She replied, as the UAZ chugged, Felix turning the key inside of it.

"Come on!" Felix yelled, as he slapped the dash, and with almost a comical timing, the engine belched out black diesel smoke, the former Captain awkwardly shoving it into gear, with more abuse than a Kalan prison getting put into the gear shift into second given he realised the UAZ was a machine built on BDSM like demand. It understood no other language than mechanical violence, in exchange for questionable quantities of oil.

"And you still look think you're in control?" Oksana asked, the question open, knowing Rowan was thinking it, and increasingly, so was she. This was a complete fucking mess.

"Trying. Not got much choice but to play the cards we're dealt, aren't we?" Felix replied, as driving down, more PSA tracer fire darted above, as Felix kept it as steady as he could over the rough and tumble of the forest tracks, another patrol in the forest firing on them and the team firing back. Spotlights were out, as mud and dirt sprayed everywhere, the ride about as bumpy as a trampoline made of bare concrete.

"Contacts!" Felix called out, as another UAZ emerged, more swearing and shouting audible, and bullets flew from the team. Oksana sprayed her PP-19, taking out a couple of the. There was something to be said about it all, as Felix turned left, a massive hit to the vehicle as it bumped and rattled alongside the train track, where the train was still at running speed. The UAZ behind tried the same move, and two of the PSA militants were actually thrown out by the size of the bump, skidding to a halt to pick up the two that had been flung out.

"Hah! Okay! Here!" Felix yelled, keeping the UAZ alongside, gunfire dying down, peeling alongside the train, the box cars a mixture of ISO containers and traditional cattle wagons, old units put into service that were also being used to store loose goods. Felix kept the revs high, next to one such container, as Oksana unbolted the latch and drew it open, making a bigger opening than the gap between the carriages, which would be insane.

As Felix kept throttle pinned, Oksana helped Borys in, given his shitfaced nature, it was best he went and caused as little hassle here. Then next up, she offered a hand up to Silas, the bumps difficult but her holding the frame to give him a chance to leap up, before she would follow.

But something hit her mind and immediately set her off. The visions halted.

"Wait, not yet!"

"Oksana, fucking go!" Felix yelled back, as Oksana did as she was told, despite the burning feeling in her. It was impossible, like a hunch backed by so much more. Because the moment she made the jump, following after Borys, throwing herself into the carriage, the car had to dodge a gap in the road, that then suddenly was filled by the emergence of another UAZ smacking into the side of it.




The crash was a hard hit, with Felix and Rowan scattered, thrown from the UAZ, the jeep in bits and them lucky to be breathing.

The other UAZ that had smacked into it was a write-off too, but the militia inside had fared better.

Felix groaned, as the PSA team from the crashed UAZ flooded the area, at least a fireteam's worth, four or so in his vision.

"Shit. You're not friendly are you." A hit to the face and a hard kick was that reply, Felix was aware that any switch or escalation now would be a risky move. One of them was carrying a big iron looking staff, and it was throwing him completely for everything. No craft available to him with a ward like that. Probably why Oksana was not able to see that coming. That was a smarter move, Felix realised, as before Rowan could move, she got kicked in the side and thrown to the floor.

And next to him, Olygarkov, emerging from a polished looking Range Rover, cigarette in hand, breathing it out. Ushanka and leather coat on, he didn't half look like the evil spawn of a police state.

He walked along the crunched glass of the UAZ's windscreen, cackling almost, looking around at the two he'd managed to get in his hands.

"Rowan Morgana! I cannot believe this, you have made my day....and fallen right into our palm. With another caster causing us..... inconvenience." Olygarkov announced as if he was some minor noble, almost rather pleased with what felt like a lot of other works, not his own.

And leaning in, as the other militant held her up, Olygarkov's smile became like that of a Cheshire cat.

"What is it they say? Two for one? Capitalist scum come in capitalist numbers! You, and the fucking lion.....for free!" Olygarkov was now monologuing. Like any two-bit wannabe bureaucratic, secret policeman.

"And you followed him after it all? After what he did? He does not know what to do. No.......he got you in front of us though." Olygarkov yanked her by her plate carrier, dragging her away from the mess, leaning her against the car, bloody and hurt, away from where Felix was now getting attention.

"But now we have you, nobody else has to die. The rest of your team need not worry." Olygarkov added, his voice trailing from the Libolian's view, as rifle was still pointed at him. The next words were likely going to be to shoot said lion, he thought to himself. People full of themselves did that.

Felix looked up, sighing, coughing up, the hurt deep inside him, watching Rowan get dragged away. He didn't make too much noise, staying compliant, not wanting to rile his captor while the boss talked. He might have been full of bad decisions, but this was a moment where even without vision, he could make a good one.

"Two for one is a bad deal." Felix lept up and yanked the AK-103's barrel from the hands of the man in front and kicked at the same time, taking a couple of rounds from the ward-carrying militant before turning the rifle he'd stolen onto the man who held him, before putting a round through the head of the ward-carrying soldier next to him. It wasn't much to crawl and hurl it as far as he could across the tracks, as Olygarkov and his other soldier reacted. But he was bleeding. Badly. Felix barely was up before stumbling forward and about to look like he was going to drop dead, a bullet through his side and top of his throat, making him fumble, and fall to the floor.

As Olygarkov turned and pointed his Makarov at him, trigger pulled to finish the job, the special forces operator vanished.....and the lion appeared.

And that lion tore off his arm as Felix darted forwards and up, the AK dropped, as he snarled, before then leaping onto him and ripping out his stomach, another soldier leaping on top of Felix with a knife.

Brave trying to fight a lion, but Felix felt the cut into his side of the big knife, but rolled across and drove forward, making a really brutal, horrid scene of it, basically just putting his jaw to the militant's head and taking a bite.

From behind, it was a bloody scene, probably worse than anyone had seen Felix do from earlier.

By the time Felix was done, he was licking bits out of his teeth, panting hard, bleeding. He couldn't change back, not until he saw a medic in his human form. He'd been hurt badly there, the cut bad now, but managable. He sauntered across to Rowan and put one of his sharp paws into her arms as carefully as he could pulling her and the ziptie down, but peeling through it, looking on at the train that was now getting further away, with their medic aboard. He brushed his mane and paw against Rowan's broom and her headset, and stood rampant with his....arms, legs, front legs? Whatever they were, looked her in the eyes and made a bark that sounded like the low frequency rumble of a V8, giving a nod (as best as a lion could), and turned his head to the train, making a pained noise. With that, he proceeded to bolt, running towards the train, leaving her there and then. Hoping she would understand what to do next, where to go, the Range Rover still running, but another option available to her. He wasn't getting on her broom to get where they were going.

The lion strained, Felix hurt, full, and most of all, feeling like he would crash out. He had to get to that train. He'd make it. He just hoped Rowan would because they'd do so much worse to her if she didn't.

It must have been a strange response, irrespective of how Rowan treated that situation, but he was chasing the train, and she had alternative means. It had happened so fast, Rowan must have been confused, but in a strange way, perhaps he hoped in that moment that she'd get herself to safety.




Meanwhile inside the train, Oksana exhaled, watching on as the car was hit, and smacked into a rock, barely as she clambered up, looking back and realising that Rowan and Felix hadn't joined them.

"Rowan? Felix? Come in! I fucking told him....fuck's sake. No chance we get him back. Every time I throw myself out of this thing to save his stupid ass, I break myself. Rowan though....fuck. I hope she can make a run for it." Oksana blurted, exhaling, realising jumping from the train at this speed now would be broken legs territory. She didn't want to rely on luck, so trusted they'd get themselves out. Or at least, worst case scenario, the lion that had caused all the shit they were in was left behind.

Peering out of the train as it hit a right hand curve, the sound of distant roaring could be heard, a lot of screaming, and it seemed to continue, more than the gunfire had.

"Felix, Rowan, status? You both alive?" Oksana asked, her foresight unclear, the sound of clinking making her stop.

They hadn't actually checked what was in the modified train car, as Oksana looked to Silas and Borys. The wooden floor and feeling of it felt like it was from 100 years ago, not a modern train system.....yet Polavia felt like it sometimes didn't always roll with the times.

"Oh god. You're not going to believe this." Oksana tittled, gently pulling the fabric cover off the container behind her, revealing dozens and dozens of crates of vodka bottles.

There was more Medlandia than Borys had likely ever seen in his entire life, but the awe must have been completely broken when Oksana tapped her fist against the side of a crate, it making a loud clink, rather thank the deeper.

"Empties." She added, drawing one from the near hundred crates in this carriage alone, and rolling it backwards across the floor, looking to Borys and Silas, a realisation she was with two of the team who could hold their own in drinking.

"We are definitely going to Novy Jork......"
Friday 29th September, 2094
Autodromo de Buenos Aires, Argentina
1900 ART


The Shop Window


Cassie Neves


Cassie's phone rang as she left Zygon hospitality post-practice, the voice of Joao Vitor, her agent, deciding to make a phone call that connected as she was headed to her personal trailer. Click to receive, Cassie put hand to ear, the Zygon-branded merch jacket clashing against her pilots inner-suit that she kept on for the time being.

"Joao?"

"We have an update. Carrera."

"You want to talk about it, while I'm in the middle of all of this?"

"Well, get yourself clear." Cassie heard, as she walked across to a quieter part of the cloudy, now-springtime paddock, finding a quiet spot behind another trailer, checking for drones and making sure her implants weren't listening in. If Zygon decided they were, well, they weren't total monsters to their star pilots. At least, she hoped.

"Team is going well. What if Carrera piss up next year's ship?"

"That's up to you."

"Well, things are getting better here."

"Contract is sizable. I would think about it. Zygon's got positive trajectory, but the optics, culture, fit at Carrera are perfect, and they are gonna need it. Match made in heaven."

"I'm guessing by that you mean I'd replace Ava, not Bea. How she hasn't been tapped up is beyond me....so yeah. I get it. The Iberian link." Cassie replied, as the agent chuckled.

"Well, she almost was, and yes, that was what they liked. Point is, their management has started making some big moves, and they made enquires through an intermediary. But they need you to meet. Zygon will keep you as their star if you want them to. You're outscoring Han, so Carrera will pay a pretty penny to get you out of that contract. And given Valkyrie sowed up shop with Max, options for the rest of the grid don't exist. So it's your choice. Terms are similar, and they'll even buyout Zygon's share. The flexibility is greater. I'll send you it on the encrypted box what they're proposing. We haven't got long to decide." Joao added, as Cassie sighed, looking to the overcast heaven, the Scot currently dying her hair with a weird blue-red to match the team's livery this weekend, brushing a strand of it from her face.

"I need an inside view. Big decision." Cassie almost spat back, to the point, the decision beginning to click.

"Would you like me to talk to someone?"

"No, the person I'm thinking of nearly smacked into me a few weeks ago. Then apologised rather politely. Funny how it works." Cassie's lips turned to smile, shaking her head.

"Call you back." Cassie muttered, hanging up the phone.

Back in Zygon world, she checked back in with the team, as always, pretending nothing happened.




Friday 29th September, 2094
Autodromo de Buenos Aires, Argentina
2000 ART


Extrapolations


Harrison Makara


Sitting there and looking out at the practice results, Harrison and Nora sat looking at the display, inside the pit box, Owen wanting to talk through it with both of them, together. Being held back after hours felt difficult, but their practice results were without a lack of a word, horrendous.

"We're not doing what we should be. I get it, the track's difficult. But we need to kill the bleeding. Stay on the attack. Get after Amy. We don't do that by sitting back. Or deciding we're not sharing data." Owen simply retorted, looking at them both, simply done with their bullshit.

Looking to Nora, the yellow and silver polymer armed and legged pilot looking back with a grimace, Harrison sighed. Hoping it wouldn't come to this. It looked like Bea and Ava weren't the only ones who'd argued.
"All due respect." He commented, the look of animosity coming out from strain in the season.

"Well, since you two won't have that respect, we've already made that call. Your engineers will talk and share your setups, we're one garage, not two units fighting. For the sake of the team. So don't be nearly pilots. Be the ones that take this intuitive. We've got a chance here to keep that top spot as ours. Let's not fuck this up." Owen added, looking to the delta in the map, a reminder to them both, looking back.

"Any chance we get to stop Amy, is a chance one of you two will get to take top spot. But that gap is growing, and if you don't work together, you can forget about any chance we have of holding a candle to them this season. Lowry is hunting us in the Constructors. And remember what happens to us if we lose that top spot. Are we understood?"

Both pilots nodded, as with it, the team boss, Owen Keating, suddenly was in the sofa, with the background behind him.

"Was it hard having that talk with them both?"

"Yeah, well, it isn't exactly a fun choice. It isn't what I'd prefer to do. But, you have to set it out."

"Would you say that's a nice problem to have?"

"Well, have you ever had two people who want the same thing, fight it out? It's understandable from their point of view. But from mine, I see two pilots willing to give it their all for the Whanau and so many Polynesians that would love to be in those ships. Best we deliver without arguments."




Saturday 30th September, 2094
Autodromo de Buenos Aires, Argentina
1000 ART


Fame


Hamid Atlassi


The Moroccan's white-bleached hair stuck out as he signed away at fans that had come to Al-Saqr's fanzone, the growing fanbase all shifting from Layla to him. He was a hell of a lot more outgoing, and for the Arabic Union based Al-Saqr, suddenly a growing star. Kais Zenix may have had his marketing, his ventures and his own way of doing things, but Hamid had grown in popularity once he hit the points. So signing autographs on posters, tablets, arms, and all sorts of places, as well as being at the fore.....made him an obvious target in the interview room for Aurora's questioning.

A kid ran over, with a hand drawn picture of the Al-Saqr ship, and Hamid gleefully signed it away, a pentagonal star at the end of his name that always came with heritage of where he came from.

Things were going on in the background. Things he didn't want to dwell on. Or wasn't exposed to.

"You and Kais seem very different when it comes to marketing. Why is that?" Aurora asked in the cabin, Hamid sitting there with his legs crossed, white and green faux-leather jacket on, sunglasses in hand from whenever this element had been filmed.

"Habibi, I'm open! I remember being a kid and being excited. So I put myself in the right place. Kais focuses on the race. I'm extraverted. People person. I feed off that."

"Would you collaborate with another team's initiative, if asked?"

"Well, officially....I can't answer that! But, I think we have to share the love. We forget so easy. It's so hard to become a pilot. So difficult to do. So I pay back my child, my young self by giving others the same hope. #FansFirst is a great initiative. I would love to do something like it." Hamid smiled, beaming at footage.

That cut easily into a 6-year old Hamid on what was old home-video like footage, with a composite framed cart, framed on an old F1 design, smiling and standing by it with a bicycle helmet, absolutely glowing with pride with the thing he absolutely loved.




Saturday 30th September, 2094
Autodromo de Buenos Aires, Argentina
1000 ART


Infamy


Ava Villarosa


The fans at the Carrera Condor fanzone were also out in droves, crowding the place. This was a flagship event, absolutely as big as it could be. And while Bea had her adoring fans, almost in the hundreds, like having an entire Silverstone crowd to herself in the same way the Europeans loved Paul came to see the Chilean. She was not Argentine, that was 100% different to having Bea's predecessor in, but, she was Latina, she was of the area, and given Chilean and Argentine relations had cooled, despite history, she was still seen as the region's best racer in a generation. Ava towered over most, even on her prosthetics, her posture and pre-amputation height maintained by this in particular.

Ava enjoyed this. She was getting over the pain of the split with Bea by at least reaching out to people, replacing the hole in her heart from thinking she actually had a friend, to swallowing the adoration of her fans and the distraction it gave. Something about not being liked, but being loved. It tugged at her, but Rey encouraged her to keep her mind off it and engage with fans.

Signing away, Ava kept close to the forefront, before one fan decided to pipe up. Probably not Argentine, given the English accent bringing him here to the relatively cheap tickets and epic views at the packed out Autodromo.

Which was brave. In Argentina, English was not maybe the best voice to have.

"You're full of shit! You're holding back Bea!" The voice called, clearly at the wrong fan meet. Very clearly, in negative IQ, but passion was one thing. Response was immediate.

"Puta, you won't support our own, English bastard!" Another yelled back in Argentine-tinted Spanish, and Ava backed away, realising quite what was about to happen.

And suddenly, shit absolutely hit the fan. One man punched another, and Ava was quickly extracted away, as security immediately lept in and contained someone else throwing a flare.

It felt like even in trying to hold back, the flames stoked, but the feeling of violence never too far. Ava had never seen obsession like this. Some fans had gotten angry in spite of Carrera's rise, not at management, but at the divide that had leaked, and then been encouraged by Leon in the press.

"Was it hard dealing with the fallout between you and Bea? The rumours, I mean..."

"I would rather not talk about it. Next question." Ava cut Aurora off, there and then, arms folded, looking dead to camera.

"And the rivalry between the team in Argentina and Britain?"

"Next." Ava burnt a hole in the viewer.




Saturday 30th September, 2094
Autodromo de Buenos Aires, Argentina
1020 ART


Relations


Ben Hale


The phone rang inside his trailer, as Ben finished up with the VIP meet and mingle session, NOVA making its most of the morning and letting local celebrities in where they couldn't into the now packed out Carrera Condor sector. Orchard Capital, in particular had brought some hot shots in, so Ben was wheeled out to chat all things racing, while Florence did the last minute work in the sim, wanting to extract a bit more from the ship. In his black and green-lined undersuit, the barely 19 year old pilot was readied to go, leaning against the wall with phone in hand, with Amber's face on it.

A pinch of finger, and Amber's voice animated.

"Hey."

"Hey." Ben tried to play it cool, the Swiss on the other end of the phone almost certainly calling about something Ben had wanted to get back to her on. More than the fast message last night.

"Sorry I couldn't make the date. Look, you know how it is." Ben spluttered, feeling the silence needed filling.

"Okay, okay. I get it. Big shot AG pilot now. You don't mingle with us juniors." It was becoming a little clearer who this was. Amber Beck, Nordic Call, JAGF pilot. Two young lovers, for sure, and even in spite of being in two different teams, had barely been reported on in the field of Ben's youth and his high performance in the Junior AG league.

It was some melodramatic bullshit to pick, but, from the moment Ben met Amber in the lower leagues, they'd chatted, their families in similar circles, and well, one thing led to another. Dating another racer was silly, beyond stupid, even management told him that. But 18 year olds made decisions that weren't always fuelled by the right thing.

"No, it's....well, okay, it was a really serious dinner. Florence introduced me to....well, I can't say."

"You, and your ego are just blowing up like a balloon. Can't say? Look at you now."

"Well, you just weren't as fast as me. You'd be here too."

"Cheeky." Amber replied, as they both laughed, Ben looking out of the window, seeing the crowds thin, as the VIPs left and were headed for their next engagement. Meaning he'd be joining Florence in the sim for more work soon.

"I'll make it up to you. Nova Cadiz Asado. Tonight. After your race. I'll watch it once I'm done in the sim." Ben replied, Amber leaving a silence, with a contemplation.

"I will just have to clear my heaving schedule. So much to think about, so many events to reschedule..."

"Oh, funny...."

"Yeah, yeah. This is why pilots don't date." Ben added, cutting it off hearing the sound of footsteps up the stairs to his trailer. "Really sorry, but I need to run. Love you lots."

"You too. Good luck." Ben put down the phone, seeing one of the engineers come past the window and knock, and with that, phone was thrown back, and pilot Ben was back in the building.




Round 14 of Formula AG
Saturday 30th September, 2094
Qualifying
Autodromo de Buenos Aires, Argentina
Argentine AGP
1300 ART


Magnetised


Jen Lowry






Soundtrack: KOAN Sound- Spirals Unfold

"Clear, Jen. Let's get after it." The voice from Cal put her in her mind back in the zone.

The track itself may have started and ended at the old Oscar y Juan Gálvez Circuit start-straight, but it quickly ended up being nothing like it- from tarmac onto complete MAG tracking, that made grip basically vice-like through most corners, making ships go from slip to stick. The camber was basically 70 degrees on the hardest of hairpins, making them come across as much shallower turns than they were given how hard the ships were planted into the corner through the seat- but thanks to their positioning, making it safe for spectators to actually watch ships go toe to toe through them, watching them as if they were seeing them come in top-down given perspective. Most of the MAG tracking was built on a specialist glass or seethrough surface, making it possible to see at Turns 3 and 12/13 the ships literally fly towards each other yet opposite to each other, on different panels of glass.

The feeling of modernity bled through the stands, with the spectators right against the track, with enormous field generators allowing for ships to come incredibly close to watching spectators- while offering them an outlet if they collided or crashed. It blended safety with spectator views, in a way few circuits really did- while it may not have been to a traditionalists liking that the original circuit was butchered, it created a spectacle and good racing, rarely two things that blended.

Curva 1 leading to a massive ramp that led into a massive banked turn that had a view onto the rest of the circuit and the towers of Buenos Aires, before coming down at Turns 3 and 4, before slamming out at 6 into a hard, long bank. A long straight allowed for a lovely burst of speed, allowing for a massive burst of speed into 7, at 8 using a similar banking to keep speeds high, and make up for the original circuit's deficit of breaking up flow- with MAG tracking, the circuit felt a lot faster than its layout appeared to give, MAG tracking in corners also making it easier to pick lines for overtakes and dump ELS. Here, it felt like every overtake really relied on ELS, and just making brave, hard moves through the corners at any given moment. At Turn 12, the circuit went underneath its own banking, literally going upside down onto the other part of the circuit before coming back down into where Turn 13 and 14 at the Senna S restored itself back to the only part of the circuit maintained- a tarmac section that led to the Turn 16 transparent-glass bank (in front of lots of roaring fans), and the chicane at 17/18 that used a fun inverted camber to force ships to slow down, ratchet hard right and left, before slamming on the gas without hitting the wall. The lap was short, barely over a minute, but it had this "one more time" feeling to it. Unlike other circuits earlier in the season which were lengthy, long affairs of super fast, long corners, this felt like a challenge to

A thrilling lap, given most of it was taken near full throttle, and the pilot inside.

"Jen, that is P1! P1 Jen, stellar lap, where did you get that from! Your Q3 looked absolutely dialled in, that's close to a lap record!"

"Woo! That's what I'm talking about!" Jen chirped back, backing up Cal's confidence from earlier, and proving that in spite of spotty performance, she still had what it took. The ship was of course, still a cut of the field, but today, she put the time in. It seemed strange. Jamie had completely missed the mark, lost his way despite a promising season, but Jen, she seemed to have something else up her sleeve.

Like Amy? Or was it the ship finally being tamed and set to her feeling? The speculation was uncertain, but Silver Apex seemed to be back, and to take back 1st in the constructors was a worthy gambit.



The others experienced varying laps. Paul had clearly gotten an optimal ELS tune, finding a ship that absolutely sang thanks to a rested, focussed team, able to make the most out of each corner and in theory, on a circuit that demanded an incredibly potent ELS system given the amount of MAG tracking, had just lost out to Jen being on one. While Beatrix had done well, it was almost out of stubbornness- the team wanted to do well at their home race, and despite Ava being away, it was a home race for Carrera. She wasn't letting the fans down, and almost as if fuelled by a want to prove Bea wrong, was holding pace.

As if a fuck you, look at me now.

It was a statement to get ahead of Amy, who was struggling, but showing promise on certain sectors, never a threat to rule out. Hamid had absolutely gotten his ship places it shouldn't have, and the sparks of promise were beginning to show. Even if Florence Mason had fried her power unit in Sector 3, and caused a red flag right at the start of the season, poor luck dampening an initially promising start for NOVA.




Saturday 30th September, 2094
Autodromo de Buenos Aires, Argentina
1745 ART


Post Qualifying Interview- Argentina


Post qualifying, the sunset came in on the elevated MAG track, and at the main office building, almost marble-white and surrounded by greenery was a rooftop where Aurora had a chance to catch up with each of the pilots.

"Bea, third place in Argentina, and it puts you next to Paul Mulder. Tell us, how are you looking forward to battling with him again, after your previous fight in Singapore, and who could forget your massive duel in Belgium!"

And inversely....

"Paul, second on the grid, showing that whatever it seems to be that you're doing! How are you feeling about fighting with Beatrix tomorrow, and making the best of your grid position, and what looks like a breakthrough ELS system?"

On the other hand....

"Kais, not the best performance from you, but it looks like your ship seems to still be breaking all the records at the speedtraps. Tell us more about Al-Saqr's speed focussed strategy, and how you're getting on with taming it?"
Soundtrack: Night Tapes - Drifting







@RisingRobin

The mention of Mr Mephisto is a deep cut of lore, but we're here for it :)

How long until the RP gets underway? Very keen to get started, seems like we have a good crew to kick things off :)

@Thayr

Yep Myla definitely seems like the dark to Sophie's light! I think they'll be a really fun dynamic, there's so much they have in opposite, but also a lot of overlap.
@Sadu

Loving this char's vibe!

Classic "rainbow" versus "goth" energy.
Outro to Singapore


The commentary crew had little more to say, as Aurora wrapped things up, on the now deserted track, walking down the start-finish straight in her signature look, smell-o-vision (if it even existed) probably that of ozone and ethanol, looking to camera.

"Well, what a result for Paul Mulder, but there's still a long fight to go for the drivers and constructors championship in the next rounds. Join us in Argentina as we take a short few weeks away from racing but head towards a double header, where the championship battle will no doubt get more intense. Goodbye from us at Delta Hyper, and we'll see you very soon!" Aurora beamed, as the outro played.

Like that, the camera turning to the glistening lights of Singapore, the fighting amongst the ships, the blur of Paul on the podium top step, and the hit between Amy and Nora, started to play out what felt like a season that couldn't quite make its mind up on where the next twist in the round would come.




COMPOSITE /// CORDILLERA /// FLARE


Soundtrack: Floating Points- Falaise

The laying down of track, bit by bit. Metal being bonded by drones.

The sound of optimism. People moving about, engineers with machines, androids doing about 98% of the work, but a handful watching over them.

This is the construction of a racetrack.

The crackle-pop of rally cars in El Condor. The sound of a 5 cylinder Audi Quattro, morphing into Helena Starcross's violent, screaming 5-pot F1 car in Argentina, many, many decades back.

Dust, soil being pushed up. Setting up a new embankment, with repulsons being mounted in by a bunch of UAVs. And more sparks.

The roar of 90s F1 cars. Appearing in the sparks, in the metal, in the reflection back, visible.

And then, the screaming whine of an AG ship. The scream of the crowd. The sparks pitching into an Argentinian fan's face, painted white and blue, blue, red and white, yellow, red, and gently turning into a blur almost rainbow like, into the hull of the Carrera Condor ship. And the sound of chanting.

Almost animalistic.

The tattoo of a ship on a Chilean's chest, the shirts sold by Bea Ward, Carrera merch aplenty, drowning out the Silver Apex, and then other Southern Cross merch memorabilia that followed in popularity behind it.

Flares. Pyro. Chanting. Yelling. Crowds.

The slow-mo shot of an entire company's worth it felt like, of fans refusing to shut up.

And the scream of speed coming back, as the weld finished, revealing Buenos Aires Autodromo, made anew for AG.




Sitting there in the sofa, background behind, Peter Thatcher had many things to think about to Aurora's question.

"Did it go the way I thought it would? I mean, you tell me. A late swing at things." Peter replied, hearing that direct question.

"Pressure is still on. Nora responded far better than anyone we thought could. And well, we're still in the constructors lead." Owen felt like he had little to add from his last time, but the point felt valid.

"We're still waiting to see how our improvements put us back. Signs are promising. We just have to keep up the pace." Jinwoo coldly stated, quite the opposite to that of Sally Morrigan of NOVA, who was no doubt, feeling that pressure to deliver after the old Fitzroy resurgence that had begun a few races back.

"No miracles. But things don't happen fast, well, relatively in AG, not when everyone's going 600kph and what seems quick to us, it slow to you. It's all about putting something in place. Then unwinding when we can." The smile from the green and yellow-liveried team boss was a candid one, contrasted by that of Ricky Millar, of MMR fame.

"It's bit a sh*tshow." And he laughed, shaking his head, knowing all swirling rumours continued in how his star pilot would be replaced next year.




DELTΔ HYPER


Episode Fourteen: The Tango Swing





Round 14 of Formula AG
Friday 29th September, 2094
Practice Day
Autodromo Buenos Aires, Argentina
Argentine AGP
1100 UTC-3


Wrong Way Up


Once again, the format had been changed a little bit.

The sofa sat on the circuit, it seemed at a completely normal angle. You know, the horizon seemed level, the track behind it in metal, the highly advanced skyline of Buenos Aires in the background.

And then, as if to piss people off, the camera suddenly tilted. Revealing the skyscrapers were the wrong way up.

The entire thing was upside down, on one of the more weird points. With MAG tracking, ships were the thing that would have to cling to this, but with the right footwear, you could walk upside down.

Now, having blood pumping into your head was not ideal, so a pilot suit would do to keep the blood from falling into a pilot's brain like a bottle of upturned Coke.

And a hologram of Aurora beamed out, as each of the pilots from Delta Hyper took a seat, confusingly, upside down, a seatbelt handy. Without an augmented body, this wasn't really possible, so this mindfuck of a stunt for an interview wouldn't last long at all.

"Bea, we're at the home of Carrera Condor! What a turnaround it has been for your team, and from your comments, it sounds like you're taking things stuff upside down. How have you engaged with the fans locally, given we've seen so much of your #FansFirst intiative? Anything to say to the fans, in Espanol?"

Paul was next up.

"Paul, welcome to the southern hemisphere, so to return, we put the sofa the way you might see it from Belgium! With the Junior FIAR grid not often going to circuits with the extreme amounts of inversion and MAG tracking as the cutting edge Buenos Aires circuit, what do you think you can do with a ship that so far this year, seems to be a cut above in handling?"

And lastly, Kais.

"Kais, welcome to the upside down sofa! We're back in the southern hemisphere, how would you say you're helping Hamid get used to the pressures of the seat?




La París de Sudamérica




The teams had probably had to be careful. Buenos Aires, and Sao Paolo in particular, were not the other parts of the grid that the teams maybe were used to. Even Cape Town, once one of the most dangerous cities on the planet, had been tamed, but in South America, the passion seemed unfazed. It felt like it was just insanely built up in the city centre into blocks and towers, densely populated with those who hadn't worked in the mines, staying in they grey, underground economy. From augments to other less-legal aspects, Buenos Aires felt actually cool, it didn't feel like the "man" in Singapore with perfection, nor even a vision of equitable utopia in New Hilo.

The nickname of "Paris of South America" was true, given the gloriously extravagant Colonial-era buildings, but skyscrapers, blocks and dense complexes overruled what once a sprawling metropolis into tens of millions of people living however best they could.

It just felt punkish, rogue, more cyber than solar. Dirtier, with higher highs, and much lower lows. Poverty might have been eliminated, but it still felt like someone hadn't checked on the divide here. And fans of any sport, football, pelota, padel, rugby, yet especially now, Formula AG, were wild for it.

Wild was an understatement. Religious, maybe.

Argentina, the mocking joke of economics was still not exactly the wealthiest place on earth, but rare earths, minerals companies and new models of doing business that weren't Peronism or insane shock capitalism had actually managed to turn the script about. As climate change ravaged the equatorial regions, Argentina took on refugees, and they brought stories, ideas and another layer to what was already the rich tapestry of Argentine history. Buenos Aires, as such, didn't feel safe, but in it, felt like you could find every single microcosm of South America in a tapestry that no pilot would probably dare venture into. Too much of a security risk after all, unless someone was unhinged enough to go beyond the security perimeter and into a city fanzone, rather than the circuit's massive one.

So back at the circuit, they were all getting ready, and practice would be on the cards soon. Final checks, tweaks, and a feel for thing.

In the Valkyrie pit, Dorian had started tweaking away, the MAG-tracking making most ELS deployment areas absolutely wild. A physically taxing race, he checked through his vitals and circulation data, before nodding, helmet on, and getting ready to clamber in and run a lap. The feeling was one of tension, because Dorian knew while this was his final year, there was still something to deliver. Get over the line, and find a result, right in the heart of Carrera's homeland.

And in the Carrera pit, Ava grit her teeth when she looked across at Bea chatting with Alistair, before returning to her own setup with Rey. They weren't talking. But they had to put on a brave face. Leon hadn't denied the two were getting more and more racy, and her loving fans were absolutely lapping it up. So she had to make a point. Prove why she was in that second seat. And wipe that smile from that Spanish fuck's face and remind him, and anyone else on the grid why she was where she was.
@RisingRobin

I think that was the impression I got! The feeling is of a modern-day equivalent world, but weirdly, SDN use 1980s era gear, but also, tablets. Sort of a weird retrofuturism going on but I like it, gives the world a feeling that it's 10 years in the future yet 40 years back :D generally it feels open ended, so I didn't want to give my two char too much in what they were up to on their end in the UK.
Day 2: 00:31:21
Grestin Monastery,
Somewhere overlooking the the village of Pristupin,
Libor Province,
Republic of Polavia




Oksana scowled when Borys covered the muzzle, all circumstances that she blew his hand off vanishing with the thought that she should be more responsible. His sick stank a little, but, could be worse. Realising the mindfuck was likely new to him, so probably going easy on it was best. He was drunk, but he wasn't entirely a moron.

But on Prigo, he was right. The man deserved to die falling through a rural toilet into a cesspit, she thought to herself.

Lovely.

The situation had changed, as Oksana, the team, and the tension built.

Then Borys stood up and drunkenly started slurring and running.
"Nice one." Oksana saw clearly when he couldn't, the chaos of Borys blending perfectly with the precision of being able to see exactly where to put her bullets, and on that note, execute.

Meanwhile, Felix glanced to Silas, hearing his mumble, addressing it anyway.
"Eh. I've been chewed out worse." He crackled the smallest of jokes that fit inbetween the chaos that was about to erupt, looking to Rowan, and proceeded to watch Rowan go absolutely fucking mad.

The PSA militants yelled out, trying to turn on her but already, Roxie had sniped the one that was left of the group she hadn't straight up merked, Felix clattering the group further down the hill, deciding against the 870 for now. Rowan was going wild, understandably so, like weeks of rage were just pouring out.
"Silas, keep her covered, I'll pin their side! No fucking chance I'm eating them alive after Babushka's food!" Felix called out, moving along the wall, bullets lashing out as an LMG erupted, the RPK staring to pick apart their position.

Felix moved fast, slotting two men with clean headshots as Roxie clapped two from her end, his rifle spitting out big caliber rounds into skull after skull. The bullets rang out as Felix kept in cover, bullets sending bricks and masonry dust everywhere.

"Right, I've got one last trick up my sleeve. Don't follow my Copy Cat!" Felix called out in comms, looking to the other group, Roxie wondering what exactly that meant.

With it, it looked like Felix seemed to leap the wall, and run straight towards enemy fire, past Rowan, the illusion shattering as bullets flew, Felix using the muzzle flash in the dark to clatter one of the men, Okasna picking up the others.

The gunfire died down a bit, as one more hostile was clattered by the last round in Roxie's mag, a smooth effort that blew his brains across a tree.

"Everyone breathing?" Felix asked, looking around as he dumped the mag into his vest and slid a new one in, patting himself down, looking to Borys, stumbling.

"Silas, you might want to hit Borys. He's resistant to bullets, but not to...." Felix began, as Oksana called out another fireteam of reinforcements coming through and bullets forced them to scatter.

"More on the other side of the rocks!" Gunfire rang out as Felix dragged Rowan by her vest into cover behind a particularly large tree, Oksana switching to her Vityaz as one of the men actually stood on her, the round going through his groin and out of his head as she lept up and shoved him away, the moss-like bush trying to avoid getting crossfired upon. Felix took out one of the men at Oksana's flank, covering Borys who would have been very exposed. And now in need of more impact from Silas. He was taking bullets, plenty more accurate than he would have expected.

The effort to repel the fireteam was good, but it wasn't enough to stop one of the SA soldiers taking a flare gun, and pointing it at the sky, after a radio callout. In a pain that felt hopeless to stop, Oksana just couldn't have got their in time to shoot it out of his hand. The flare got launched, but instead of going into the sky and illuminating the dark forest like a Christmas decoration.....it got caught in the branches of a relatively tall pine tree, and immediately, caught light.

Polavian flares really did burn well, huh.

And now it wasn't so much an alert, but a forest fire.

Oksana had already seen it happen, the angle, the point of it was never going to clear, but in the gunfire, namely, the last round she sent through the skull of one of the militant who fired the flare from her 9mm SMG, this was not exactly it. The flaming treetop did enough to bring a hurl of gunfire in from the village, the flare and the radio call out enough to identify Rowan as there, and not in the village itself.

And within a short period of time, they had gone from a firefight, to a.....fire-fight?

"Bastard! Okay, we definitely can't hang around. Rowan, you probably saved that entire village, but fuck me, we really need to talk when we're done with this! We need to head north east, head for the rail line, and fucking hope we can get some distance in! Everyone, move, move, move!" Felix exasperated, new magazine in, Borys smacked into a mixture of sobriety and health (and maybe another bottle), and Oksana having reloaded all her kit, picking up pace past the defilade and on the other side of what was now a rapidly growing fire in the pines, and gunfire flying towards them.

The team were breaking into a run- because fighting back seemed like a shitty idea with just how much attention they were getting. The DSR team had broken off given the gunfire noise seemed to stop sounding like DSR-grade rounds. More gunfire slapped into the trees, as it turns out, that flare that set one tree on fire had decided to now set multiple. It was interference. A nice ability to put trees and fire between them, but also, light that cast onto them.

"More of them coming in from our three o'clock!" Oksana called out, seeing a pair of mercs forming up, moving on a ridgeline, the two that moved in getting clattered by Felix, as he knelt and put rounds into them, before breaking back into a combat run.

"Clear! Keep fucking moving!" Felix barked back, as the sound of a heavy machine gun could be heard clattering into trees. They were idiots, but putting on fear. The team were now running and gunning. Through the moss that had previously given them shelter, between the large pine trees that now decided to burn behind them, slow but inconvenient in every way.

"Can't you lion out and get fed?" Oksana barbed, the sound of vehicles and lights breaking in the sides, giving them a tunnel to break through.

"Your babushka fed us full, no chance! I can barely run as is!" Felix called, clambering up and over a ditch, trying to think that move but nothing happening. He wasn't going lion now, but his hearing was at least astute enough, as he passed a hand to Rowan, who stayed with him, pulling her through, Oksana leaping across before looking back to Rowan and offering a hand, then seeing Borys, of whom had taken shorter steps. Realising she probably shouldn't have gone this far ahead without checking on him.

"Ah." Oksana realised, as more bullets flew, and Felix ran back, stopping him from running and using his height to clear it easily back again. And like nothing, simply throwing him across the waterlogged ditch, like the dwarf that he was, into Oksana.

It was clumsy, but they all picked up the gauntlet and ran.

The team were in varying states of sprint, the cracks of gunfire making the wood feel like a version of hell, rather than a safe retreat. SA were not giving up. They were going to burn this place, and them to the ground if they got even a body of Rowan to revive.

More gunfire was pouring in as they started to approach the far end of the wood, towards a small clearing before the woods continued again down to the trainyard lit up in the distance.
"Hostiles front, boss, we can't go around!" Oksana called into comms, as the squad ahead called it in, the 12.7mm rounds blasting from their DShK armed UAZ into the trees all over, and Felix inclined to agree that indeed, they were pinned. They had to confront a squad at least, and an idea formed in his mind.

"Borys, Keodis, put down some suppressing fire, Silas, Rowan, get on the flank, see if you can. We might want to scavenge that vehicle if we're getting a train!"

"Fuck me, my vision is all spent! You need to stop the big gun shooting, it's like a fucking rave!" Oksana was honest, her voice in full pant.

"Alright, we'll drag his attention, get ready!" And with it, the team had some objectives, the slight slope down towards the rail-line in the distance. Oksana cursed, moving from tree to tree before diving down, exhaling hard, her accuracy all over the place from sprinting, calming herself down.

You can do this, she told herself.

Felix didn't have the same thoughts, taking direct fire in the rocks he was pinned behind, spraying bullets blind over, down to much fewer mags than he would like. He leaned out from the side, aiming down the holographic, the lion inside still not wanting to come out of its hide. So 7.62mm it was for now, as he picked off one of the squad, with a scatter of rounds to the torso, before clambering back in cover, the .50 aimed at him for now, giving Borys a chance to spray out any of the other hostiles around the UAZ and catch their attention, while Silas and Rowan could get in closer, and use their shotguns to make a royal mess. Oksana would cap off the move, and once she had her breath, and her sense of seering back, she could wipe the gunner out. The ratios were still poor, but one way or another, they'd make this work.
@Auragreedia

Aww thank you! Sophie is a love letter to Blazer, and of all people, Cole from Infamous as well as various others. Electricity is fun because you can scale it from "a bit of a buzz" to "casting massive bolts of lightening that are storm-sized" and within it, I definitely wanted her to be able to fly. I don't write superheroes at all (the closest I have being TBW: Hex which I'm running) and my view is that with a ton of potential power, comes a ton of potential issues in many, many different ways. She has a very "idealistic" view of being a superhero in LA, which I think will change fast.

Rather than James, who is much more cynical about it and who as a character, is much more "vague" because I wanted to play on the comedy of consultants in workplaces doing the same job as others but always being a bit "mysterious" (not because they're some super villainous person, but because they just are!)
@RisingRobin

Hope you're on the mend and all is well!

I hope they can do karaoke good
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