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3 yrs ago
Current Just...drifting along.
5 yrs ago
The Truest and Most Ultimate Showdown has beguneth. Goofykins V.S. SpongeByrne!
1 like
5 yrs ago
Does anyone know where I can figure out how to unfabricate memories? Asking for a friend.
2 likes
6 yrs ago
Check out our new and improved thread. Just an interest check for now, but oh boy is there so much more to come! roleplayerguild.com/topics/…
7 yrs ago
Oh Bleach RP oh Bleach RP where art thou oh quality Bleach RP. Why hast thou forsaken thee? Seriously though, WHY!?!
3 likes

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Most Recent Posts

I think a wind may very well have caught my sails too, to be entirely honest. I had to move recently (from Florida to Wisconsin) due to extenuating circumstances. It's thrown off my usual posting schedules for every RP I'm in (and I wasn't consistent enough with this one to begin with...sadly). I've been trying to juggle a lot for awhile and I love this world and I love the players in it--ya'll are seriously some fantastic writers. I am often awed by your skill and talent and how you've honed it. It's been a treat even if I haven't gotten to interact directly with most of you ICly (through no real fault of your own or anyone as far as I am concerned).

My thoughts are summed up thusly:

I don't entirely want to leave, but I think I need to have a leave of absence. I feel bad about it because Dark Jack even has a character tied up with I'on. So what I may do is continue that and plan an exit for I'on soon. I don't like leaving loose ends behind and I don't like my characters being misrepresented--though my visions of I'on are...odd at this point, he's become muddled in my mind over the years.

I think I would definitely rejoin at some point if things continue on, but I think I'd do so with a new character and a new vision for said character. I think when I made I'on all those years ago that I was intent on stuffing too much into one person without really considering their characterization enough (and whether it would be more or less enjoyable for me to play them).

So yeah. I will be around, I think I may even hang around the discord for now, but I'm gonna more or less bow out of things. Dark Jack, maybe PM me somewhere and we can figure out a track that lets I'on and Nimbus/Maledai separate to free up that plan for you. I don't want to leave you hanging as I'm sure I already have (sorry again about that, my life is kicking my ass as it hasn't in awhile). Anywho, you guys are great, this is entirely on me, not anyone else, and I will see you around!

Ciao for now ^^;
Chatterbox


Surveying the room despite his own nervousness, Drake noted the displeasure of his teammates. Whimsy didn't appear to be in good shape...and yet Broker asked her to dispose of what was--...no. He refused to think of them as the same. He gritted his teeth and then took another drink. He absorbed their employer's explanations, both of powers and reasoning. There was more to it. That description was too brief. No power was that damned simple and without hang-ups.

Every power had weaknesses...and every power had underlying mechanics, or he supposed that whatever gave them those powers had such. He shuddered, the idea of some alien passenger interacting with his mind and body to fascilitate his power giving him the creeps. Of course, on another level he was grateful to it. The thing had changed his life and even with his trigger event being what it was, he felt better off than he had been before.

Finishing his drink--probably far too quickly given its alcohol content--Drake set it aside and stepped out from the counter, his gaze briefly firing between Broker, Headhunter, and Heartless. He moved across the room and turned a seat towards the situation. His hands were still shaking, but he clasped them before him, crossing one ankle over the other as he stared at them from where he sat, head tilted slightly. He considered the dinosaur girl and the thoughts that came to mind were simple, logical.

She had been a threat, a fair bit unpredictable. He agreed, Heartless should have simply tased her, but the reality was he hadn't. To go about trying to save her afterwards. It was an act of emotion. One of guilt or compassion perhaps. His gaze narrowed and focused in on Heartless. "Counter to your title, you've got quite the streak of empathy, Heartless" he said the name with utter disdain. His power was tuned all the way down, not affecting any of the members of the team and certainly not Broker--who he figured would be immune anyways, a shame. "I hope you don't intend to make a habit of helping the enemy. I only have orders to not use my power on members of the team. Allies, that is. If you endanger us or our mission, you're not an ally. Correct me if I'm wrong boss." All he really needed was a reason after all. A reason and assurance he would not be rendered brain dead or worse due to use of his power on Heartless. Of course, there was a chance that Broker would say he was wrong to set a precedence. A precedent that would allow the man to handle Heartless himself.

It meant that either either response Broker gave might serve to drive fear into Heartless and fear was control. It as the mind killer and oh how he loved laying the psyche to rest. He smiled faintly at the thought.

'How pleasant.'
Chatterbox


He spent much of the time on the way back in something of a daze and though it did not last terribly long, it was still frustrating. Luckily, by the time they had returned to base, he felt more himself, having recovered both from the exposure to his own power and from taking the invisible strikes. He was still sore though. Sore and unhappy.

Following the others in—and giving his duplicate a wide berth—he was somewhat relieved, though also confused, when the clone's voice had no effect on him...or apparently the others. The only difference was Broker's presence. His eyes narrowed slightly, but he said nothing...for a time.

As Heartless finished, he glanced to the bar and—though he too wanted a drink, he didn't trust the fellow to make him one properly. Instead, he made his way over and began making a relatively elaborate mixed drink. As he did so, he spoke, power off, but tone clear to carry to them all.

"I expected the worst from the very beginning. It's why I was so careful. Honestly, the rest of you should learn to accept that there will always be complications." He spilled a bit of wine and it was only then that he realized his hands were shaking. He pressed on, acting as if nothing had happened.

"Regardless, it was a mess. The Wards showed up. I don't know if they were tipped off and this was a test or if it was entirely unrelated, but regardless it was...not ideal. By the by, as you can see we still brought back what you required. What I think might be more pressing is..." he trailed off, finishing the drink and setting it on the counter, his eyes on Broker. Before he spoke again he took a long swig and swallowed, letting the liquid courage begin to ease his nerves.

"You interact with powers somehow," he said matter-of-factly. He was nervous, he was tired, but he was also curious. He found he couldn't hold the gaze and so looked down at his glass.

He considered how coldly the man had simply murdered the clones. If he hadn't already been somewhat desensitized by the events of the day, he'd be reeling. Why had he shot the clone of Sophia? He understood that a second one of her existence could cause problems, but still...that was. He took another drink. "I talked about it with Headhunter, but I think the others need to know the distinct feel of my power. You can nullify it afterwards I figure. Since you did so with the clone. I think it may help with identifying other troublesome masters in the future, but that's...that's less important right now." He glanced at the others, falling silent for a long moment.

Eventually he looked to Broker and spoke, "I'd like to know what we're actually doing here." He then looked away and fell silent. He didn't like this.

Evelyn Chambers – Tulpa


She didn't deserve the pay, she didn't deserve to be pardoned of her mistakes. This wasn't right. How could they stand by and just let them off for screwing things up so badly? Even with the tears falling already, her face screwed up a little—though the expression was hidden. Mask in hand, she decided to put it back on.

When they were dismissed she had almost made it out when she heard her name. Stopping in place—her being the last one out of the room—she found herself completely frozen as the Director's words slammed into her like a truck. Steadying herself with a hand on the doorframe, terror looming just like the 'shadow' of silvery light that had enshroaded Director Kens. She couldn't see it with her back turned, but she could feel it. She knew it was there, but was too shocked and terrified to banish it.

Hardness (bone), muscle(flex, stretch, strength, adaptability)—

"No," she whispered, but it didn't stop.

—fat(energy storage, cushion, soft, deformable), nerves(electricity, chemical impulse, fragility)— "NO!" She shouted, before falling abruptly silent, stunned by her own loudness. The 'shadow's' silver visage fled backwards through a wall and disappeared, but she could still hear it rattling off material information in her mind as it moved further and further away. She commanded it go upwards till it was in the air, where it had limited materials to analyze. She made it stay there and then, around the twisted knot of dread in her gut, she spoke.

Her voice came out quiet, but audible, "S-sorry. I...I'll try," she swallowed hard and didn't turn back to look at the Director. Her fingers were bent into claws where she was gripping the doorframe.

After a few moments she managed to move and when she did so she ran and didn't stop. Only once she nearly got to the exit did someone stop her and tell her she was still in costume. She'd somehow forgotten...despite the mask. Despite the fit of the clothes. Letting the woman lead her to a changing room, Evelyn waited and took the change of clothes. The woman, gently, suggested she shower. Evelyn couldn't work up the nerve or the will to say no so she disrobed and got in.

She could barely feel the water, instead she was more aware of whenever the 'shadow' of light moved faintly to try and return to her. She stopped it every time...and recoiled whenever she had to. Several times she almost slipped and hurt herself.

Once she had finished cleaning and dressing—the actions methodical and automatic, her mind on autopilot—she emerged to find that the woman had arranged a ride for her. There were tears in her eyes again at the kindness, but she couldn't thank her. Couldn't speak, because if she did it meant thinking...and thinking meant.

No.

No. No. No. No.

She wrapped her arms around herself in the backseat. For a few minutes the driver tried to make idle conversation, but eventually they decided to just turn some music on and hum quietly. It was only when they arrived at her house and Evelyn got out of the car that she realized she'd gotten a ride from them before. She realized that normally they were friendly despite her only been 17 and the man being much older. It was like talking to her grandpa, she remembered.

She felt a brief guilt, that then turned crushing. She blinked, now staring at the door of her house. She was about to knock, then remembered she had a key, but couldn't get it out, her hands clumsy.

The 'shadow' moved. She froze. After two minutes, frozen there, wrestling with her emotions...and her power. Her terrible, terrible power.

The door opened. It was her mom and before she could try to move or say anything, she was in a hug. Before she could register that, they moved to the couch and she suddenly realized she was crying. Again.

Crying again.

Stupid. Weak. Useless.

She could smell her mom's perfume...and her dad's cologne.

The thoughts drifted away, she felt detached from the warmth and the love, but also wrapped in it. Almost smothered, but it was good.

They wouldn't talk about what happened that day. They'd talk when she was ready. She wouldn't realize she'd fallen asleep in her mother's embrace until she woke in her own bed, feeling confused, but comfortable.

She'd have her favorite breakfast that day and ice cream...and just about anything she asked for. Normally her parents were less doting, but they knew what to do when she was sick or upset. She loved them for it.

Especially now, even when she felt so numb and useless and terrible. Even with the storm of emotions and turbulent deprecation in her mind, they gave her warmth and love...and she could even feel some of it.

Hopefully it would be enough.

The silver light, its form a thin veil over her house, said otherwise.
Chatterbox


Headhunter's response was novel and he nodded in acknowledgement of it. However, he just couldn't break his vigil on his duplicate. He knew part of that was the ramping effect of the aggravating imbecil's power, but still he had to keep an eye on him. Then, a thought occured to him. Making sure he was in full sight of the team—which was very easy given everyone's position—he took both hands to part of his costume's quality fabric...and violently tore it in a vertical direction. Then there was a sharp pain in his arm as a wound opened up. He gasped and used the cloth he'd torn off to wrap the wound. Just as he finished and was about to act, he felt Sophia's grip on him vanish. Head snapping to the side he saw her collapse to the ground. He moved to help, concern flashing over his features, followed swiftly by pain against the side of his skull.

"Agh!" He saw stars and everything went fuzzy except the sharp throbbing pain in his temple and ear and neck. Whatever they did with him, CB did his best to help the Jacks hoist him into a car. God that had really fucking hurt. He hoped that Broker would have a way to deal with this idiot clone and that they had managed to gag the fucker.

By the time they arrived back at headquarters he would have regained his composure, though his head still hurt badly. He would talk not at all until addressed by Broker. Hopefully the tear in his costume didn't translate over to his clone.

Hopefully they remembered which was which....


Evelyn Chambers – Tulpa


Feeling empty and listless, she looked up as one of the PRT's employees prompted her for her pass-phrase. For a long moment she just stared at him, anguish in her expression, before finally speaking up.

"A shadow passes over a lake of silver light. The solid sky pulls it through its reflection and a being is born." She swallowed hard. The passphrase related to her power intimately. She wanted to change it. She wanted to throw up, just from thinking about that horrible thing. The thing that was part of her. The thing that had hurt Lillian. An aborted sob escaped her throat as she passed the man—bringing up the tail end of the team.

So it was that she was last to sit down in the room where surely they'd be admonished. When director Kens spoke she barely heard—let alone believed—the words he was saying. They wouldn't be blamed? But it was their fault. You could blame their actions solely on Decoy's bad information.

The thoughts began to stoke an anger in her, but before it could find enough fuel to last, the director said her name and she visibly twitched, swallowing hard. As her teammates spoke all the fight went out of her. Very unprofessionally, she brought her feet up onto her seat and hugged her knees, burying her face against them. She'd since removed her mask and anyone who'd look would see make-up running and tear streaks down her face.

As Alessa heaped the blame onto her, Evelyn brought her hands up and wiped her face, smearing more make-up. When her teammate finished she looked up and met the imperious gaze of Director Kens. She clenched her jaw, but she still found that her teeth chattered somewhat. She was shaking and nearby, in the room, behind Kens, a faint silver light hovered.

A shock of panic, eyes widening before she banished the projection's shadow once more. It vanished in a flash of movement, phasing through a wall.

It took her precious seconds to compose herself and when she tried to talk, nothing came out. She tried again, and almost sobbed. Taking a cue from Alessa, she took some deep breaths and then tried again.

"It...it wasn't all Alessa's fault. In my haste to..p-provide aid, my...the projection..." she trailed off, shaking as she took a faltering breath, before she could speak again.

"My projection cut its way through one of the walls to get in. I...it wasn't a decision I made rationally. It...it just reacted to my desire to help."

She hid the bottom half of her face in her knees a moment, looking across the room at Director Kens for a moment. There was barely stifled terror and sadness in her eyes.

"Near...near the end. One of Dean's..." she almost choked on the name. Tears started flowing again and she frowned, clearly distressed that she couldn't hold them back. Her voice sounded shaky as she continued, but she pressed on anyways. "...the clones...one of them hit my projection with a beam. It felt like...it felt like it was accelerated maybe? I can usually feel it like it's part of me, but it...it felt far away all of a sudden. Like I'd been using it longer than I actually had maybe? It wouldn't respond to commands. It just...it lunged at Lillian." Where the tears at first fell steadily, now they practically drenched her cheeks, hitting the fabric on her knees and slowly wetting it as well.

"I couldn't stop it. If...if Alessa hadn't reacted as she did, it would've really hurt Lillian. It might have done worse. I couldn't con-control. I don't know wh--...." She cut off into a quiet sob and buried her face again, unable to continue. Now they all knew.

Surely she'd be removed from the Wards. They couldn't use someone who couldn't control their power. Her power...she didn't even want to use it, or think about using it. She didn't know when the projection might turn on them again. She couldn't deal with that eventuality. She couldn't deal with causing harm to people who didn't deserve it...who weren't rotten like criminal were, like all villains were.

She just couldn't.
Lilliana Merrycure


Now this was speed! This was adventure! This was...VERY DANGEROUS HOLY SHI-- the ship hit the one of the channel's sides and she was jostled and thrown to the side, only just catching herself before toppling over the side of the railing. Quietly, she swore, before turning to see what everyone else was doing...and then they were airborne.

“Wha-wha-wha?!?” Her eyes widened in a mixture of terror and excitement, the ship's descent following its hop leaving her briefly suspended in the air before they hit the waves. They'd lost a mast! They were on a collision course! They needed to slow down!

B-MO moved, a flash, reaching into her huge, deep mechanic's pouch and devouring all of the metal there. She squeaked slightly in fright at the overwhelming situation and the sudden loss of all her tools.

Then she realized she could do something about it as B-MO began to swell, for it was digesting the metals and generating more of the bio-metal that made up its form. Understanding, Lilli set her jaw and allowed a small smirk to form.

“BRACE YOURSELVES GENTLEMEN!” She shouted as she managed to get to her dear son. Over the roaring wind and waves, she called out to him, placing her hands on his shoulders.

“Entangle my legs with roots,” she told him. Once he'd done that she focused her awareness through B-MO and allowed the still rapidly expanding metallic organism to stretch out into two sets of absolutely huge metal arms. Spikes shout out at intervals and anchored to the ship at sturdy points, doing minimal damage.

“Reinforce the spikes, I know you can do it. You'll get all the milk and cuddles after this, I promise!” She said, coaxing strength into her boy. She smiled as the two of the arms, more like long thick tentacles now, plunged over the sides of the ship and dipped into the water. Immediately they began deforming from the current and the forces applied. She gritted her teeth and with one of her flesh-and-blood limbs, extracted a syringe and injected herself with it. It would give her a shot of adrenaline and healing juices. It was a stopgap measure, but it'd have to do.

She felt B-MO's presence in her body, reinforcing her, and it was pretty painful. Then the forces acting on the arms—and thus her—increased tenfold and everything went white for a few seconds. She'd passed out, but came to only seconds later, her body shaking as the force of creating what amounted to spoon-like scoops in the water were formed. They were perpendicular to the boat and the current and so water would be caught, creating additional drag to slow the ship down.

The downside was despite her preparations and the assistance of BS, the physical forces acting on her body were immense. If she were normal she'd have been torn asunder several times over. With the assistance she merely felt like she might be torn apart. The tension in all of her muscles was immense.

Hopefully it would be enough to slow them down.
Chatterbox


Escaping alongside Sofia as the building collapsed, he had to resist his reflex to protect himself from the rubble and airborne detritus of the collapse. Navigating into the sight of his teammates he saw their clones. His eyes narrowed before he forced himself to relax. As he did so he said words that he didn't want to, but felt were necessary.

"Sofia, open your eyes. We're safe enough for now," he said, though he kept her hand in his. She seemed shaken and admittedly so was he.

Looking away from the girl he noticed Thunderbolt confronting their clones even as Headhunter made a beeline for them, clearly on his guard.

Good, he should be. His power was dangerous and he could feel the disgusting mimicry of it worming its way through his skull. He hated it.

"Stay close Sofia. I'm going to let go of your hand now," he said before doing just that. After all, his clone would be as brilliant and conniving as he was so it made sense for him to make even more of a show of good will.

He trained his gaze on Headhunter and, lowering his tone, responded to the man's query.

"Green Fever," he said, expression serious, tone grim. He looked away from the sharpshooter, staring daggers at his clone. "Headhunter. It occurs to me that none of you have really felt what my power is like. Now that there is another me walking around. I think when we're back at base, I am going to turn it on for a moment, then back off. You need to know what it feels like so you can notice it when it happens. I will remove the influence afterwards." He met the man's eyes again.

"Furthermore, I think we need further verification and a proper passcode system for the future. I don't want us to be caught off guard if something goes wrong in the future. As to the verification..." he paused, trolling his memory. One of the things that only they ought to know were the likely fake names they'd told eachother on that recruiting walk.

"My real name isn't James," he said—too quietly for anyone but Headhunter and Sofia to hear. It would only mean anything to Headhunter though. That had been the name he'd told the former mercenary before they'd recruited Arsenal. With any luck it would be something that his clone wouldn't know. "...and yours was Jack Selser." That said he turned his gaze away once more and tapped out code.

"One of our ways out is headed this way now. We need to get Thunderbolt away from the clones. Unlike me, that fake is willing to use my power on the lot of you. Headhunter, if you'd tell Thunderbolt to retreat from them, that would be stellar. The more time they spend listening to his voice, the worse this will be for us in the long term." That said, he'd realized just how much time he had spent getting to that point and he cursed himself internally at just how fitting his damned cape name was sometimes.

This was not turning out to be their best day, that was for sure.
Evelyn Chambers – Tulpa



Making her way over to the others, her body feeling like lead, she found that she couldn't make eye contact with a single one of her teammates. She'd really fucked this one up. Punctuating the thought, the building buckled and then outright collapsed under its own weight.

That was her fault, not just Messiah's. Her projection had--.... The silver light flashed into her mind's eye, followed by an image of Lillian and—No! Her grip on her arms, crossed under her chest, tightened as she dug her nails into skin, trying to interrupt the thought and banish the images.

She felt even heavier, but she somehow managed to get into the vehicle and sit down.

God she was exhausted.

The mission had really taken a toll on her. Unfortunately, that toll appeared to have been far greater for others....

She would be largely silent for the entire ride back, unwilling to talk or respond with anything aside from nodding or shaking her head. The whole time she would fail to meet anyone's gaze.

Even that small failure. The lack of courage to own what she had done and still face her teammates.

It was crushing and it would be a miracle if she didn't break into tears on their way back.
Outsider


Paying close attention, Outsider rushed into action the moment he sensed the cape start to move again. He wasn't having it. However, he quickly slowed as another cape made their presence known. As the electromagnetic field around their body began acting bizarrely in tangent with his sense of the individual becoming slightly fuzzy, he knew it wasn't necessary for him to attack. Instead he let his huge form drift down to the street before—rather suddenly—swapping out. He stumbled slightly, falling from several feet above the ground as he switched forms. The disorientation hit him a moment after, but it only lasted a few moments.

Once it had settled he ended up just...kind of standing there for a few moments with a big ole grin on his face. Not only were Furnace's words something positive after a series of rather unfortunate circumstances, but the feeling of being—both in body and mind—so totally...present was just...it filled him with joy.

Recovering he cleared his throat and approached the unconscious cape and Furnace. Shaking his head a bit, keeping an eye on the kid, he spoke. "Thanks for the help," and the words were genuine, more full of emotion and presence than his words usually were. Glancing elsewhere he noted one of his teammates heading away. The set of her shoulders and general body language didn't say good things about her emotional state.

He glanced up at the huge hole in the side of the apartment that had been their headquarters. "I think I'll do just that, Furnace...though with how things are looking I'm not sure if there is much of a we anymore," as he said it the joy started draining from him, replaced by frustration and sadness and worry. He didn't want to operate alone, even if he didn't really have to worry about harm to himself it was better to have teammates rather than having to fight and risk excessive damage to your surroundings all the time.

Swallowing some of those emotions he considered how he was to call the PRT. He didn't want to use his personal phone, that was...not smart. Was there a payphone nearby perhaps? Damn. He really should have gotten something to call with, but to be fair he figured one of his teammates could.

He glanced at Furnace and smiled awkwardly, "Um, actually...I realize that I don't have anything to call with. Any chance you carry something around or should I just find a nearby Payphone while you keep an eye on the kid?" Unsureness, man how long had it been since he'd felt like this.

It was so strange being this aware of his emotions, but he liked it. He liked it better than them being far away. This all of it, with the bad and the good it brought, was far better than feeling detached all the time. It was too bad that it wouldn't last....

It never did.
Lilliana Merrycure


Nodding briefly to Boone, Lilli turned her attention to Reverse Mountain while the others prepared the ship. Intermittently she assisted with repairs and gave Bonesword some suggestions and encouragement. Her main suggestion was to create multiple layers, even if they were disposable, so that the ship would have a shell to work with. She also made sure he didn't overextend. She affixed something to the deck in front of him. It was a thermos full of milk and despite any of the ship's movement it would not be dislodged. Its lid made sure it wouldn't spill either. She informed Bone-chan that if he squeezed around the lid it would extend a straw out for him.

She had plans to make it something he could wear at some point. So he'd always have milk ready and available when he needed a boost. It was something to look forwards to.

Beyond that she looked about the ship and checked in on her nakama, making everyone was properly taken care of and on task. Whenever she wasn't needed, she'd return to looking at Reverse Mountain while standing near Bone-chan. All the while, B-MO built and disassembled things in the bag at her side.

She felt...antzy, but excited. The mountain was so intimidating, but she saw it like a gateway. It was looming and ominous, but once through it, well, who knew what one might find!

Smiling she called out in a cheer, “Crew, I know we can do this, I believe in you! On to the Grandline!” She cast a smile back at Boone as well before turning her focus back to the mountain once more.

Oh boy was this exciting.
Well.... Someone tag me if/when this gets back up and running. If it's a new thread, I'll probably gravitate my way there.
No u :3
Raelis Vaerkturian
Theme


Features hidden beneath his helm, Raelis smiled. Wings curling inwards, their forms armored from tip-to-tip, he guarded himself from the warrior's attack. The armor found itself essentially folded around the knight, with the blade of Rhay remaining extended through a single gap as he charged. Heat and light having gathered back to him in less than two seconds, the heat of Raelis' blade skyrocketed once more.

The beating strikes of Tharr's wings struck Raelis' own, but were slowed as they passed through dense blasts of air released at the last moment before contact. Tharr's senses had been matched. Noting a disturbance in the air as he guided light back to his eyes, Raelis got a flash of Tharr thrusting forth a polearm. On instinct he reacted.

The ground beneath Tharr, all at once, buckled. In the same instant, Raelis' wings opened, and they did so just as the polearm's blade came within inches of striking. As a result the wing that struck the blade, struck it along the flat and continued extending outwards with such force that it likely disarmed his opponent.

Now, with so little distance between them, the tip of Rhay's blade likely found its mark.

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