Status

Recent Statuses

3 yrs ago
Current I am back into this shit, I guess. Say hello if you'd like.
3 yrs ago
I am one with the force and the force is with me.
1 like
3 yrs ago
I have suddenly become deeply troubled.
3 yrs ago
If I see one more commercial for FREAKING tagged, I'm going to burst into flame. There is such a thing as too much advertising, folks.
1 like
3 yrs ago
Just tossed out some Junkmail earlier and watched it burn. Fun time.

Bio

"That's why we must eat the old people first. They can't have that kind of power."


I've been roleplaying for six years, and if I do say so myself I've gotten pretty good. I've been to many roleplay sites around the internet, and for right now I'm happy calling this one home. I write fantasy, high science fiction, and poetry. I'm involved in the Nerdfighteria community as well, making the world suck a little bit less one day at a time. Though sometimes it's rough and incredibly time-consuming, roleplaying has brought me some of my closest friends, some of the most genuinely awesome people I've ever met. This train is still going, and there's no stop in sight! DFTBA.

The Disappointment Club:


"What the fuck did I just read"


We're special-ed special forces, the most exclusive internet club that no one wants to join, and the most thoroughly disappointing group of individuals the world has ever seen (we even disappoint when it comes to disappointing). Together, we're quite possibly the best six friends the internet has know.

- @Junkmail : Living Proof That God is Dead.
- @He Who Walks Behind : I still won't forgive him for what he did to that starfish.
- @Dragonbud : Her Gregory Cosplay is fire.
- @Surtr : I think he's still trying to pimp me... Help.
- @Spoopy Scary : He's Greg.

List of Super-Power Pet Peeves:

-Shadow Powers
-Blood Powers
-Pain Powers
-"Dimensional Storage" Powers
-Spider Powers

Most Recent Posts









Spaniard Town

The Charles Building was situated on the corner of Buford Highway and 14th street, across the road from a strip mall and a liquor store. It was a nice building, with a modern, pentagonal shape and brick and concrete facade. Wrap-around windows demarcated each floor, of which there were seven. The lawn outside was well landscaped and manicured: short, perfectly conical evergreen trees in terracotta pots lined the walkways, and small flower bushes bloomed by the first-floor windows. A small koi pond surrounded by smooth river rocks trickled quietly. The first floor consisted of a cafe and convenience store, with a bank of four elevators in the room's center. The walls were wood-paneled, the floors smooth beige tile. Behind a granite-topped desk, a security guard slumped in an office chair, looking up as each person passed, showing their ID for clearance, and then back down at her phone.

On the fifth floor of this seven-story building, in a glass-front office labeled "Gouche Informatics", the heart of REAPER operations in Charity Beach beated nondescriptly. Behind the glass and a small lobby with a white marble receptionist desk could be found a series of offices lining narrow corridors. In one room, locked from the outside with a key card, hundreds of black computer towers hummed in unison, making the whole room vibrate. The rooms were labeled with gold plaques, reading things like "Director of Quality Control", "Accounting Office", and "Programming Department". At the back of the office, at the dead end of a twisting hallway, sat an office completely different from the others. It was all black glass, tinted dark to the point of opacity, with a glass sliding door locked from the inside. The gold plaque next to the door read:

"Rachel Cantor, Director of Operations"


Inside, the office was trapezoidal, occurring at one of the points of the pentagon. Banks of windows flanked a large dark-wood desk with an enormous computer monitor atop it. The office was idiosyncratically neat. It was lit by fluorescent lights and a tall silver lamp behind the desk and a comfortable black office chair. A black rug sat beneath the desk at a perfect 90 degree angle to the corners of the room. By the windows, low shelves held books on programming and a series of manilla folders. One such self, the one closest to the silver lamp, instead held books of poetry and literature. A large fern sat in a white pot near the right window. On the back wall, behind the desk, another large computer screen showed an image of a tropical landscape, and below that three silver filing cabinets stood resolute.

Rachel Cantor sat in her comfy chair in front of the enormous computer screen and drummed her manicured nails on the edge of the desk. Calming electronic music played from a speaker under the desk somewhere. On the screen, several Word documents were opened in sequence, progress reports from agents around the city. The one pulled up currently was particularly grisly.

”Encounter with special target AMCC in the Industrial District. Casualties: 0. Fatalities: 3. AMCC last spotted east of the initial encounter. Agents have been deployed to identify the AMCC and track it.”

Rachel sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. There was a lot of paperwork to read today. Rachel had been working here for two months now, and with each day her patience wore thinner. This office job felt stifling compared to the work she had done before. The power and the trust the job came with— those suited her. The tedium of paperwork, not so much.

Suddenly, a ring came from the door. Rachel looked up (it was one-way glass, so she could see through) to see the doors swing open… by itself. Before the doors closed, Makoto appeared in a cloud of smoke on Rachel’s desk. With her legs swinging like a child, and she looked back at Rachel.

“Hey there, sweetie,” Makoto said with a warming smile, “Look at you, with your own office… in your own city! You’re making big moves, babe.”

“That’s not usually how people enter my office,” Rachel replied, jumping at the unusual sight of a woman appearing on her desk. Quickly, she reached for a coffee mug which, displaced by the woman’s appearance, had tipped and spilled over the side of the desk.

“Oh, I think the Foundation Woman briefed you on me, right?” She gave her a forced, toothy, smile that displayed all the woman’s teeth. “Agent Onryo, master spy, at your service!”

“I assumed a master spy wouldn’t announce themselves as such,” Rachel replied.

“Well, kid, it’s about time you threw those assumptions out the window,” Makoto also shot right back with a cheeky grin. “Y’know what they say about assumptions?”

“Yes, I have been to grade school before,” Rachel responded. She reached into one of the cabinets to the right of her desk and pulled out a roll of paper towels, then began to clean the spilled coffee. “Nonetheless, you are welcome here. I have set up an office for you just outside of this one, across from our President of Marketing.”

“Oh, I don’t need all that, sweetie,” Onryo replied with a wave of her hand. “I won’t be sticking ‘round that long, all that office is going to end up being is a storage for my equipment.”

And that was true, given how “mobile” Makoto was; she may end up staying here for like a few days before being sent to Australia or something to seduce a politician! “Thanks anyway.” She, nonetheless, had to thank her. However, she had to get to business.
“So our prestigious Director of Operations,” Makoto started off, “I am, contractually obligated, to inform you that I already completed one of my assignments! And I haven’t even stepped foot in this place for a few hours. We have a lead on the crystal that Warmonger snagged, and I intend on following it.”

Makoto started off before the bad news came in.

“However, we may have to deal with an annoying redneck sheriff getting in our way.”

“FAMA is an unfortunate hurdle in all our dealings,” Rachel replied. “I’m certain he won’t be a problem. What have you learned so far about the crystal?”

“For starters it’s white,” Makoto said before breaking out into laughter, “No, no, just kidding; it’s sealed in a case they can’t open without breaking it - as reported - and it’s currently in the possession of the police department… for now. If they found out there was a crystal inside, FAMA would take it and ship it to one of their vaults! And the Foundation Woman wouldn’t want that, especially when getting it would be easy.”

“Standard police should be a cakewalk,” Rachel replied, shrugging. “I can have an agent scope out the station’s security within a week and we can take it back. Considering your impromptu entrance just now, I’m assuming you won’t have any problem entering the vault?”

“Until I hit a wall and go like splat!” Makoto chuckled before she stopped. “But, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it… now I got a question for you; do you have anything to report to me?” Rachel thought for a moment, then nodded. She clicked through a few of the files on her cluttered computer screen until she came to a video recording. Then she turned the computer screen towards Makoto. The timestamp in the corner read “12:03 pm, 6/11/2019.”
The video began. It was security footage from the inside of a warehouse in the Industrial District, played at 2.0x speed. As it played, a silver blur entered the picture, pursued by three people in all black. A fight ensued, leaving all three of the black-clad people on the ground in horrendous, mangled form. Rachel paused the video, then zoomed in on the silver being in the video.

“I presume that you recognize this as the missing AMCC android,” Rachel said. “Just this morning, after several weeks of espionage, I sent a small team of agents to extract it from its hiding place. Things quickly decayed.”

“Oooooh, good thing I wasn’t in that team!” Makoto said with a raised eyebrow. She heard of the AMCC project and REAPER had made a robot - a freakin’ robot! - but yet the idiots in charge of the project never thought to once consider not making it intelligent enough to rebel. And now all of REAPER has to drop everything to find it because it was “one of a kind” or they’d “never be able to make another one”.

Bullshit, all of it.

“‘Course, if I was in the team, things would’a gone a lot better,” Makoto answered with a chuckle.

“I agree,” Rachel said. “Unfortunately, you have your own list of obligations and this chapter of our agency is particularly understaffed when it comes to powerful supernatural abilities. I have... considered hiring some outside assistance to deal with this machine. Our true nature would, of course, be shrouded in ample ambiguity.”

“... And that outside assistance is?” Makoto asked with a raised eyebrow. She didn’t like the whole “ambiguous” tone this gal was using. “You could always ask the Foundation Woman for more assistance.” She shrugged

“Too much REAPER blood has been spilled to clean up this vanity project,” Rachel replied. “I happen to know of a highly-capable crew of metahumans who, for a completely attainable price, can dismantle this machine without having to put anymore of our people in danger.”

“Ooooh, naughty,” Makoto said with a cheeky grin as she finally got up off the desk and stood straight up to face her “superior”. “The Foundation Woman would flip if she found out but… it’s a win-win for us, even if they all die horribly at the hands at a robot...”

“Then I guess we’ll have to make sure the Foundation Woman doesn’t get wind of this, then,” Rachel replied.

Then the question popped up in her head.

“... Who are they?”

“They are a particularly well-off family of metahumans I befriended many years ago. You know them, of course,” Rachel paused and clicked to a different window, revealing a Google Maps search of The Lucky Scale Hotel and Casino.

“..the Valos family.”

Makoto has definitely heard of the Valos family… they’re a big name in Black Fall and during her time there she definitely paid a visit or two to one of their casinos. On the job and off the job, of course. Out of curiosity, she dug up some information on them and that got her even more curious! But, she didn’t see them as the mercenary types except for one of them…

“Hmmm… sure they’ll bite?” Makoto asked, “They practically own Black Fall - what more could we give them other than a spot in our little… family.

“Jonathan Valos has a hard-on for action and money. Last I heard his father had cut him off to curb his litany of unsavory habits. The others will, at least, come along to make sure he doesn’t get himself killed, even if money isn’t much their style.” Rachel looked down at the clock in the bottom right corner of her screen.

“Aye, aye, captain,” Makoto flagged off Rachel before she walked towards the door. “In the meantime I’m going down to the festival to… scope out some of our targets. I’ll get back to you.” Makoto opened the door before she disappeared in a puff of black smoke. Of course that was kinda bullshit because she wanted to have some fun if nothing else, but Makoto knew that a few of their targets would pop up at the festival… and she could definitely make use of that.

Rachel sighed and rested her head in her hands. That woman was going to be a pain in her ass. After massaging her temples for a few moments, Rachel looked back up at the search for the Lucky Scale. It was close, only about a mile away down where the tourists traveled in mindless herds. She reclined in her chair. Later, she’d have to give them a little visit, but she didn’t have the heart for it now. It was midday and she was tired and her coffee had been spilled all over her desk.




Eventually, Drake and the lizard-man wandered off, and Grey was left alone on the bench with Albert, who was just finishing his hot dog and starting on a brown paper cup of fries. Out on the beach, the carnival was in full swing. Obnoxious pop music blasted out of enormous black speakers. In the distance, a local rock band set up on a small wooden stage. A food truck called "Garbanzo's Burgers" had set up at the edge of the boards where the fence parted; the smells of frying chickpeas wafted through the air. Grey's stomach rumbled loudly. They looked around and, shrugging, got up to walk towards the food truck. As they walked, they looked through the growing crowd: a few familiar faces jumped out at them. In an alley beside a shop selling novelty marijuana paraphernalia, Gonzo talked to two fraternity brothers wearing salmon shorts and matching black sunglasses. Gonzo nodded, and nodded his head towards the alley. The two exchanged looks, then followed him into the dark. Grey shrugged and got into line at the food truck. They would have a word with Gonzo later about being more discreet in the touristry districts.



@Ruler Inc Hey can you fill out the character list when you get the chance?




Grey stood up from the wooden bench and walked over to the gate at the edge of the boards. They looked out past the sea of carnival tents to where the ocean lapped away at the sand. Their phone buzzed again, but it was a Messenger notification this time, not the app. The text was from someone named Rachel.

"Is he there?" the text read.

"Mhmmm" Grey responded. They got back an emoji with hearts for eyes.

"Can you send a pic? ;)" the texter responded. This was all scripted, and Grey knew the drill.

"No lol that's weirddd" Grey replied.

"Oh come on! Just one?" followed by the kissy-face and crying emojis. Grey rolled their eyes. This bit was so played out at this point that it wasn't even amusing. Grey looked over his shoulder as the lizard-man approached. Good lord he was massive. Grey had never seen a metahuman quite like that one. Full-body transformations were rare.

"Ugh, fiiiiiine. But he's got a big hunky friend who's in the way." There was a few moments of silence.

"Friend? ;)" Then a thinking emoji.

"Ew no, he's literally a lizard." Grey ad-libbed that line. There was another few seconds of silence from the other side.

"so...the pic?" Grey frowned. They had hoped the entrance of a new metahuman would dissuade their contact, but apparently not. Slowly, Grey turned their phone in the direction of Henry and Drake. While looking out at the ocean, they discreetly took a crooked picture with their right hand and then, pulling it back to center, opened Messenger back up. They sent the picture and waited for a response.

"What'cha up to boss?" Albert said from behind. Grey jumped and turned around.

"Mind your own business," Grey replied monotonously.

"Jeez, I'm just making conversation," Albert replied. "Why do you look so jumpy? Someone creep you out?" Grey turned back around and looked down at the sand.

"There's a lot of strange people in this world," Grey said. "but it's not like we're ones to talk."
I updated my list of Charity locations and put them all together here. I'll probably add more later. I love me some worldbuilding.

Central Charity

Downtown Charity:

The most touristy part of town, Downtown Charity is located north of the Dog River and bordering the beach. Here, you can find an assortment of nice restaurants, amusement parks, night clubs, hotels, and plenty of tacky gift shops. The famous Charity Beach boardwalk extends long the beach here. The boardwalk contains high-rise hotels, amusement parks, dozens of arcades, casual dining options, and the Charity Beach Aquarium, a massive cylindrical glass building extending five stories up. The police presence here is heaviest, and crime is met with extreme prejudice (nobody wants to disturb the tourists).


The Bank District:

Found to the east of Downtown Charity is the Bank District, a modern-looking economic area filled with glass and metal skyscrapers. The Bank District is relatively new, only about twenty years old. Before its construction, the area was mostly beach houses and mobile homes, but due to changes in property laws in the early 2000s, a number of businesses, several national banks included, began rushing into the area and buying up land to put main branches and corporate headquarters. Not much in the way of attractions can be found in the Bank District, save a few high-rise hotels and single-story shops or restaurants, but much of the city’s middle and high-class workers commute here each day. The border along the Dog River is dotted with yacht clubs and marinas (this is where that lovely picture in the OP was taken). As there are barely any residents here, gang activity is very low (no one to sell to).


College Village:

Charity University lies to the east of Downtown Charity, bordering Dog Lake to the south and the Seminole River to the north. It is a mid-sized college campus, with around 25,000 students. The buildings here are mostly modern, with tall glass windows and stone exterior. All around Charity U are tons of apartment buildings and row homes mostly frequented by students. Most of the businesses around here also cater to students, with lots of pizza shops, cheap bars, and nightclubs. Crime in College Village is moderate, with Boyz influence beginning to enter the area, as students have begun to try Happiness.


Amapola Village:

Just before the Dog River runs into Dog Lake, a smaller tributary breaks off and skirts southeast in towards central Florida. It runs just around Little Italy and just north of Los Costas. In between Dog Lake and this river (the Amapola River) lies Amapola Village, the richest part of town. This area is quite large and is filled with enormous houses and green lawns. Lots of parks dot the area, as well as residential plazas with fountains and palm trees. The Charity Reservoir marks the center of Amapola Village, a massive artificial lake of crystal clean water. The houses here are very modern, with wood paneling and lots of glass and metal. Several private schools with old stone walls around their lush green campuses dot the area, as well as the St.Anne Seminary, a massive and ancient-looking stone building. Crime here is very low, though some of the neighborhood’s citizens still get drugs from the mafia or the Boyz (only the younger citizens trust the Boyz though).


Jackson Row:

Located south of the downtown area, across the Dog River, Jackson Row is the bougie part of town. The houses here are all narrow row homes with brick and limestone facades. This part of town contains the Charity Beach Museum of Modern Art as well as several other museums. The main branch of the Charity Beach library can also be found here, a large, palatial building with glass domes in the ceiling and limestone walls. The area along the Dog River is known as Dog Run, and contains a string of popular trendy bars and fashion boutiques. The property value is high here, as it's become a trendy place for young well-off people to live. Crime in Jackson Row is moderate, with many of the city's newcomers looking for more high-brow drugs (cocaine, marijuana). Happiness has begun to become trendy among the druggies of Jackson Row however, and the police have begun to become concerned that Boyz presence in the area will grow over time.


Little Italy:

To the east of Jackson Row is the idyllic neighborhood of Little Italy, a small and charming area with lots of greenery and nice, well-kept buildings. Here, strips of fine restaurants and high-class bars can be found along small parks and beautiful stone churches. The houses here range from upscale limestone row homes to moderately-sized single family homes the farther east you go. As one could expect from the name and description, Little Italy is protected by the Italian Mafia themselves, and crime here (besides their own trading of drugs) is near zero. None of the city’s gangs dare step foot in Little Italy and those who commit crimes there usually disappear within a week.


South Charity

Las Costas:

Located to the south-west of Jackson Row, Las Costas is a large, poor area of the city, populated mostly by people of Latin American and Cuban descent. The houses here are mostly brick-front row homes and overcrowded projects. The property value is low, with boarded up windows, busted sidewalks, empty vacant lots, and many condemned buildings. Las Costas contains many churches, including La Catedral De La Caridad, a large, beautiful church near the beach. The people of Las Costas are at odds with the police, who often act with prejudice towards them. As such, The Boyz have formed a strong foothold here and Happiness runs rampant.


Whitesand Village:

About twenty-five years ago, a conglomerate of real estate investors bought up all of the beachfront property in Las Costas. They paid the vulnerable citizens dirt for their homes and then immediately bulldozed them, erecting a long strip of nice beach houses and hotels which they sold for dazzling profit margins. Whitesand is a cheaper alternative to Downtown Charity for many beachgoers, who rent or buy the stilted pastel-colored homes and condos there. Few businesses can be found there save a mini golf course or two (it’s a resort town, of course there’s mini golf) and an occasional kitschy beach supply store or pizza shop. The Boyz have a foothold in Whitesand Village, where they sell drugs to young tourists visiting the city for beach weeks or fraternity celebrations.


The Industrial District:

Located south of Las Costas is the Industrial District, a series of warehouses and factories where many of Charity’s lower-middle class and poor workers find jobs. The area is very old, and it shows, with many of the smokestacks and aluminum-sided warehouses showing signs of rust and decay. Found here is the Charity Power Plant, an enormous natural gas-fired plant which provides the city with much of its power. About a quarter-mile south of it is the old Carl Mendoza Power Plant, a coal-fired plant that was abandoned in the 90s when Charity Power was built. The old plant is heavily decayed and rusted (the city meant to implode it but a political battle broke out due to a discrepancy in some old zoning paperwork and it was then forgotten about). Many of south Charity’s homeless live in the Mendoza Plant, and the police mostly leave them alone. The Industrial District also contains the headquarters of The Boyz, a series of old abandoned warehouses covered in graffiti. Many of The Boyz live in these warehouses in makeshift bunks in the upper levels, and inside the places are basically the equivalent of if Peter Pan’s Lost Boys had access to amphetamines and Happiness.


Port of Charity:

The Port of Charity can be found to the west of the Industrial District. It consists of a long strip of manmade harbor which bows in from the rest of the coast. Dozens of enormous cranes and seaport piers work to unload cargo ships here. Past the piers and cranes are piles of shipping crates as far as the eye can see, as well as car lots filled with imported vehicles and surrounded by electrified fences. The Port of Charity is the primary smuggling route of the Boyz, and provides them with crack cocaine, ecstasy, and other drugs from Mexico and Cuba. The port authority struck a deal with The Boyz agreeing to turn the other way when drug deals take place so long as The Boyz stay away from the car lots (long story short, a Boy tried to hijack a freshly-imported Mercedes Benz and it didn’t end well for anybody).


North Charity

Seminole Hill:

North of College Village, across the polluted and green Seminole River, lies Seminole Hill, known to law enforcement and criminals by the grisly nickname “Crown Town”. Seminole Hill is the poorest area of town, characterized by row upon row of identical brick projects heavily marked up with graffiti. Boarded up windows and dilapidated shutters are common sights. Homelessness is high here, and shopping carts filled with all of a person’s belongings are common. A shockingly high amount of the area’s youth, especially young men, have become involved with the Red Crowns and the drug trade, and the CBPD has basically given up on trying to remedy the situation.


Spaniard Town:

On the west coast of North Charity is Spaniard Town, a large area which, as its name suggests, has a very high Spanish population (ie, from Spain). This is a typical city neighborhood with a lot of cultural pride. Light posts here have Spanish flags hanging from them along with kitschy mottos about cultural unity. Most of Spaniard Town is lower-middle class, with more high-end homes and restaurants to the South along the Seminole River (closes to Downtown Charity). A few of the restaurants here are known as some of the best in Florida. The Red Crowns hold a little bit of territory in the northeast of Spaniard Town, but for the most part have trouble dealing with this region due to its heavy police presence and security-minded citizens. To the north of Spaniard Town lies Odyssey Stadium, where Charity Beach’s own major-league baseball team, the Charity Matadors, play. Their colors are red, yellow, and black, and their symbol is the front half of a charging bull.


Charles Village:

To the east of Spaniard Town is Charles Village, an economically-mixed area of Charity that becomes poorer the farther east you get. This area has a high African-American population and has been historically instrumental in many civil rights issues in Florida. The area along the Seminole River contains several art museums, as well as Charles College, a historic black college. Jazz clubs can be found here as well, several of which are fairly famous in the area. Unfortunately, much of South Charles Village’s opulence depends on North Charles Village’s poverty, and many of those same Jazz club owners are lieutenants in the Red Crowns. Not unlike Las Costas in the south, Charles Village’s citizens distrust the police, though the Red Crowns are much less concerned with outreach than The Boyz are and thus aren’t trusted either.


@DocRock

I'm not a co-GM or anything here but I figured I'd throw my hat in the ring as far as your character goes because I'm a geneticist. Note that I don't know how much you know about biology, so I apologize if I sound like I'm mansplaining or being condescending. First thing's first, if your character is going to be using their powers to revive dinosaurs and completely alter entire sets of genes, they should really have a PhD. While your character's power would be a godsend to any research lab (your character's power is basically on-demand CRISPR-cas9), they'd need the most advanced understanding of genetics possible to do what your character does. Also, as far as the dinosaur thing goes, check out the paleontologist Jack Horner's research. He has spent many years trying to genetically engineer chickens into dinosaurs. The dinosaur thing as it stands is bogus, but this is an RP where people get superpowers from magical space rocks so I don't think we need to be too concerned about the probability of finding dinosaur DNA.

Secondly, your character's power as it currently stands is completely busted. The power to alter genetics at will is the power to kill people instantly. If your character were to focus on someone and activate, say, the MYC oncogene, she could give people instant and incurable everything-cancer (#brandnewsentences). Alternatively, if she destroyed genes involved in specific functions, she could make people's organs shut down or cause them horrendous necrotic burns. My fix for this would be to say that Josephine cannot modify existing genes, but inserts new DNA into the target organism and temporarily tricks the cells into thinking that DNA is native for a period of time. This would also fix the temporary buff thing, which otherwise would make zero sense. This way, your character doesn't get the ability to, like, knockout someone's DNA repair enzymes and make them burn to a crisp in UV light or something. You could still technically abuse this to give people super-cancer, but let's pretend oncogenes don't exist since, once again, magical glowing space rocks.

Thirdly, I have a way built into the lore for Josephine to have gotten a grant for her research that avoids Allen's issue with FAMA funding her. I'll PM you when I get a second.

Oh one more thing- if you use this power to give people frog legs or something it's gonna take forever and/or hurt like shit. That would require bones to be completely rebuilt and reshaped and stuff. Yet again, for a third time, magic space rocks.
<Snipped quote by Maxx>

Not even I am that dedicated.


But I want to be able to send them to their deaths later on!!!
Y'all bet your asses I'm keeping track of all the Boyz we make up on the fly.
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