the Rift


My Modus Operandi is Amalgam

Cathun Posts: 88
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 3.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17.1 :: 3 HP: 60 | Buff: NOVICE
Tai
#1
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In the sweltering heat of a late summer afternoon no reprieve can be found in cool breezes or soothing droplets of rain. The sun has burned away every trace of cloud until even the last remaining moisture in the air threaten to evaporate. A singular breath is like inhaling red-hot embers. More, rapid, tired breaths is like setting the lungs on fire and adding a bottle of fine liquor - just waiting for the explosion.
The air beneath a canopy of faded greenery is as stagnant and unmoving as the water of the shallow pond. An infestation of algae slowly choke the life out of a few remaining carps, make the waves sluggish and thick and cover his long legs in a sheet of mottled vegetation as he hurriedly wade across.

Maybe it will bother him later once the slimy cells dry into an itching crust from hoof to knee. Maybe he will regret not lowering inky lips to sip the murky liquid as they later begin crack and bleed from thirst.

But right now his mind is occupied by a white shadow that flit from tree to tree somewhere above his head. Pale wings rise and fall with increasing certainty, the milky membrane oddly silent against the cacophony of chirping cicadas, trilling birds and the soft ring of the bells in his hair. His own breath add to the noise, strained and graceless as he struggle to keep up. The legs are burning too, searing with internal heat that has nothing to do with the embers that continue to fall from charcoal curtains with each step. Heaving himself up the bank of cracked mud on the other side requires more effort than he wants to spend. Picking up the pace once securely on dry land - well, that's just impossible. The trees grow too densely for more than a hasty trot, zigzag until walking a straight line becomes a ridiculous dream too far removed from reality. He dislikes not being able to run freely, resents the entirety of the forest for blocking his view.

Yet the youth grit his teeth and push on, stalking the dragon onwards, further and deeper into the wild woodlands, until suddenly a feeling like being doused in bone-chilling waters break over his skin. No, not only the skin but deeper, it is a shudder that rattle his very soul.

Cathun gasp for breath and dig his feet deep into pine needles and moss, forcing a sudden stop that leave a trail of bare scraped earth and winking sparks in his wake. Above him the dragon let off a clear, ringing tone that reverberated throughout the forest, a sound that make the equine shudder yet again - but for different reasons, deeper reasons. It seem to him to be such triumphant relief in her voice, yet an echoing sorrow too, as if a bittersweet memory has been evoked. The dragon dipped a wing and cut a wide circle through the air as she turn, the draft of her passing a welcome kiss of cooling sweat against his neck. Bark rattle to the ground as sharp claws make contact with a branch, and as he catch his breath Cathun watch warily as the lizard find her balance, turning her pale eyes upon him with determination.

"What, is this it?" The colt glances around himself, eying row upon row of trees with mounting apprehension. "You cannot be serious, there's nothing here!"

The White one snort sharply and flex her wings, feet impatiently shifting their grip on the branch. She turn her head in the direction they were heading, then look back at him, before rolling her eyes when his face remain scrunched up in a discontent grimace. Teeth glimmer pearly white as she part her maw and let out another soul-shattering cry; and then, before Cathun can do anything she spread her wings again and take off. Back, in the opposite direction.

"Wait! Hey, where are you going!? Fajira!"

But the dragon just keep going without so much as glancing back. Cathun stare after her in disbelief until the last glimmer of alabaster scales disappear, then start cursing as he glance about once more. Low, searing words, of a decidedly foul nature by the sound of it though the language was foreign, the accent most unusual.

"Great. Wonderful! Left in the middle of nowhere. Fucking dragons, fucking insufficient directions, overall fuck everything!"

Still, that sensation just then had... been strange. The equine glanced back along the minimal path with ears thoughtfully pricked. Slowly, hesitantly he brought himself around, long legs stepping carefully as he retreated back, step by step until... there it was again. A cool, foreign sensation, really not at all unlike water but not quite that either. There was a flavor of air, like a rush of wind and zapping lightning and... but no, he was unable to explain it in words. Whatever it was the anomaly appeared local, limited to a more or less straight line running straight across the path he had been traveling. The young horse experimented with it for a while, walked back and forth between this invisible line, but ended up none the wiser as to the purpose of this peculiar phenomenon. It was strange, it teased his curiosity something dreadful, but the day was passing and he already hated the forest to death.

It wasn't until he reluctantly turned to leave that something caught his attention and made the pale hairs along his back stand on edge.

On the outside of the line a spark from his tail had landed on a patch of dried grass, it's searing heat enough to ignite the yellowed strands. Small flames licked the fuel with growing hunger, smoke coiled up in the still air and he could feel the familiar warmth as he hurried over to stomp the embers out before it grew out of hand.

But on the inside of the line... even though sparks cracked and jumped from his mane and tail like always, not a single fire had started. He could see the embers gleam and glow on the ground, felt the heat of them too as he passed, but every single one, without fail, winked out without setting anything ablaze.

"Oh. So that's what he meant..."

A slow, icy finger of quiet dread dragged along the spine, drying his throat more effectively than the summer sun had been able to do all day. As soon as the budding forest fire had been put out Cathun turned on his heels and hurried away, cursing the dragon with increasing fervor for leaving him in such a creepy, messed up place.


@[Amaris], @[Reynier], open to everyone! :D

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Amaris Posts: 299
World's Edge Philosopher atk: 5.5 | def: 8 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16h :: 4 years HP: 70 | Buff: NOVICE
Dramyrth :: Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath & Frost Breath Whit
#2
"What who meant?"

The question floated upon the still air, curling around trees and leaves, exiting the maw of one peculiar creature that wasn't quite entirely equine. The girl hadn't meant to eavesdrop, nor hide, she had simply been walking - it was something she had taken to recently, walking, travelling the lands, learning what she could. She often found that she learned the most when she did not go looking for knowledge - it was the sort of thing you could not force, but had to allow. The girl had sighed with resignation many a time on her travels, not knowing how she would ever fulfil the requirements of her position in her herd, not knowing how to be devious enough, crafty enough, or simply smart enough to ever be worthy of the title. But, they thought her worthy - her cousin had thought her worthy - and so, she would continue to try.

Golden pools peeked out from behind caramel tinted lashes, blinking innocently as the hybrid continued on her trip forward. The steed before her was young and burly, with the promise to grow taller and greater as the passage of time tended to the growth of his body. Nostrils flared as the girl considered the burnt atmosphere - without even thinking it, she summoned a dark smudge of a dragon, a black spirit, who glowed eerily darkly in the TallSun light. It trilled and warbled a greeting to her - she flicked an ear in its direction, but did not take her attention from the steed before her - before dancing along the edge of Helovia's domain, being so bold as to dart between the stallion's sooty limbs and play in his shadow.

Meanwhile, Amaris peered at him, quiet after her few words were spoken, considering the steed. He was familiar to her, somehow, though she knew she had never met him before. With a mental shrug, however, she softened her gaze and dipped her nose to him in greeting as her own locomotion came to a cease. "Forgive me, I didn't mean to pry," she added in her soft, seraphic voice, realising just now intrusive her query could be construed - she should know, for she did not overly enjoy other prying into her private thoughts and mutterings. Fire blazed in the steed's eyes and embers shedded from the charred tips of his hair - he was fire personified, and Amaris was genuinely intrigued.

"I am Amaris," she began again, eyeing the darkly glowing dragon spirit who chose that moment to dart about her tiara with a draconic laugh, "welcome to Helovia."
Daniel Schiersner @ flickr & larfsalot @ deviantart
No need to mirror my post length - I have a horrible case of the rambly writer syndrome!
I like being tagged!
You are always welcome to 'try' and use force/magic on Amaris, but similar to spar posts, leave it to me to decide how the damage is taken please~

Cathun Posts: 88
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 3.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17.1 :: 3 HP: 60 | Buff: NOVICE
Tai
#3
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He had been intent on running from the place like a summoner haunted by his conjured demon, but the voice brought him back into another sudden halt. This time however it was not curiosity and dread that reflected upon the finely chiseled features but a steely wariness masked by a fine veneer of casual calm. Youthful and undeveloped muscles did the best they could in increasing the as of yet unimpressive arch of the neck, and while there certainly was spring and flow to the step as Cathun turned the overall impression was ruined as a large hoof caught in a hidden root and made him stumble.

The heat was oppressive even in the greed shade. Accumulated sweat was drying on neck and flanks, lather stiffening and staining the stormy coat, until the feline mottling along the legs made an impression of having multiplied. The ground behind him still smoldered and oozed with drifting smoke, it hung like a mist in the air and stung his nostrils, pricked the eyes and made them water. Blazing sockets fell upon a creature that was neither horse nor dragon but a perfect mixture of both, and it was all he could do to keep his expression even, the perfect image of mild curiosity. A brow raised as her question was considered, immediate wariness mingling with a strong urge to share just how darn unpleasant he found this place just then. In the end he opted to remain silent, but that apparently made the ... girl? uncomfortable. She apologized, introduced herself, and suddenly it was he who stared, face slipping into a look of utmost surprise.

"A-Amaris, you say? Truly? I must be in luck, then!" A bright, cheerful smile exorcised all caution and in few springy strides the colt danced up close, all charm and warmth and grace as he extended a dark nose in greeting. "I was talking about my father. Lace. He told me to come here, for certain reasons, and to seek out 'Amaris, and Tavi, because they will surely find a way to help'. I only just arrived, and here you are!"

Excitement seeped through every fiber of his being and made the embers in the made glow brighter, its heat intensifying. Yet while the ash-maned youngster seemed perfectly fine with the temperature and with the hybrid girl, the sudden appearance of a dragon made him recoil.

"Hey, what the...!?" Surprise quickly grew into alarm as the black spirit began swooshing around his head and legs. Cathun reared, squirming in midair as he tried to avoid touching the flitting lizard. Black ears tipped backwards, and with agitated thrashing of the cascading tail he began to retreat, step by step. "Get this thing off me!"

He was not used to dragons. Fajira was the constant shadow of his father and yet for all that he had tried to, Cathun just couldn't bring himself to like her very much. Maybe it was instinctual, perhaps it had something to do with the haughty better-than-thou attitude in the creatures, but he never learned to feel comfortable with the rush of air around his ears or the predatory screeching in their voices. Was this one bonded to Amaris? Did every horse in this haunted, unnatural place have a bound creature?

The prospect of a happy future was growing dimmer by the second.

@[Amaris]

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Amaris Posts: 299
World's Edge Philosopher atk: 5.5 | def: 8 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16h :: 4 years HP: 70 | Buff: NOVICE
Dramyrth :: Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath & Frost Breath Whit
#4
Surprise, pure astonishment really, widened the girl's eyes and stiffened her posture. So stunned was she, that the colt had already bumped his muzzle against hers and danced his little dance before she even completely registered his words. Lace? Father? And he had sent this steed, as yet unnamed, forth to search for her? Amaris had not known that Lace had left Helovia (again?), had only ever thought of him as a faraway father figure herself - perhaps he was father to her equine side, while Vikrum was father to her draconic side? - but she supposed she shouldn't be so surprised. The girl remembered meeting the steed for the first time, catching him in an embrace with her mother, watching, observing him as he stared adoringly at her. She remembered the first thing she ever asked him, the first question to ever pass her lips - do you love my mother? - and she remembered his reply - yes..

It was all a bit much for the girl, and she found her quizzical thoughts unwittingly cascading over onto the dragon she had brought back from the spirit world. He was a rogue, a wild drake in his former life, and so manners were not his forte, as he danced amongst the shadows of the equine's bodies. Amaris was used to such antics, naturally, but she had to learn to be more aware that others were not always so at ease. It chirruped and trilled in confusion at the sudden flood of information and feelings it felt from her, and as the stallion before her overreacted, Amaris backed up some steps and swiftly murmured a soft tone, "Putta," which reigned the little black smudge in. "Amin lle n'alaquel" she added quietly, murmuring to the drake as its spirit light settled in the groove upon her withers, perched between the bony, muscular protrusions of the base of her wings.

"Please, be at peace, sir. He was only young when he passed away," the girl tried to explain, "and a wild drake in his old life. I have the ability to call them back from their afterlives, to learn from them." A wry ear flicked backwards to the black, who chirped innocently from his perch. "Though their lessons aren't always clear." She was used to explaining herself and her magic, and she was slowly growing less disheartened about the fact that she simply was unusual, that others would never accept her straight away for who she was, but always judge her for the scales upon her hide (or, in this case, the rambunctious friends that she kept). "I'm sure he's sorry," she added, somewhere in there, she thought silently. A flood of questions danced upon the tip of her tongue, and oh, how she wanted to ask all of them. Most notably, who's your mother? but that would hardly be appropriate - the girl settled for what she hoped was the most practical question of all, one to show that she did care for Lace, and through Lace, this steed who claimed to be his son.

"Why did Lace send you to Helovia?"

Daniel Schiersner @ flickr & larfsalot @ deviantart
No need to mirror my post length - I have a horrible case of the rambly writer syndrome!
I like being tagged!
You are always welcome to 'try' and use force/magic on Amaris, but similar to spar posts, leave it to me to decide how the damage is taken please~

Cathun Posts: 88
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 3.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17.1 :: 3 HP: 60 | Buff: NOVICE
Tai
#5
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The girl was compassionate. No sooner had his plea parted the ink-stained lips than she raised her own voice, communicating with the eerie dragon so that it withdrew and settled upon her whithers. How Amaris could stand having the creature there was more than the colt could understand. He was still shuddering from the close proximity of talons, teeth and obsidian scales, and while all four hooves returned safely to the ground it would take a while before the ears retreated from the safety of his two-toned mane.

"Thank you. No need to be so formal, by the way, we're practically family! Lace has told me so much about you, of this place... Oh, my name is Cathun, by the way." He'd had more pressing matters on his mind, making the finer details like introductions slip. Giving the dragon another wry glance the cold sighed, not quite able to make himself relax like he ought to in the presence of benefactors.

"Passed... wait, that thing isn't real?" He was probably more surprised about this than he had been to lay eyes upon the filly herself. In all her foreign oddness her gilded scales and creamy hide had a form of beauty to it, an exotic quality as fascinating as it was unsettling. The 'real' dragon however was too fierce, too much predator, and while Cathun reluctantly had to admit to himself that it too held a form of ferocious elegance he really rather preferred it when the lizard kept its distance. It really was odd, though. It looked so solid, so vivid and lifelike. Lids narrowed over flaming orbs as he scrutinized the black one, only to eventually shrug as he couldn't find anything to suggest that she wasn't telling the truth.

"I'm not used to magic" Cathun confessed, finally daring a few steps closer to the girl again, opting to believe that she had control over her little demon of a friend. "At least not in others.... There were no dragons where I grew up either. Somehow I just can't get used to them."

Another shrug was followed by a slight, wry grin, an apology as much as an attempt at leaving the topic at that. His skin was still crawling with the proximity to the border, or perhaps it was because he was within it and some force still worked its powers upon him. It was unpleasant, he didn't like it, and he would be much happier if they could leave. Whether there were any other places to go, however... that was more than he knew.

Ah, but while Cathun was glad to leave the subject at that, the following query made the smile slip from his face. Eyes darted aside, and after a bit of uneasy shuffling a hoof raised to scrape at the drying film of algae on his legs. The long neck that someday would swell with muscle bent awkwardly until the nose touched upon a golden necklace that rested against the chest, jingling softly as he thoughtfully fiddled with it.

It was a fine piece of craftsmanship. Thin chains of purest gold had been braided together and held up three large beads, shaped like teardrops, or perhaps overturned flames. Two were pulsating with a pale light, vibrating with power that grew more apparent once you knew where the source of the itching feeling was. The third bead, however, was different. Darkened into a bloody red color, that stone was dead and dull with hairline cracks criss-crossing the surface.

"I have a... condition, if you will." Cathun sounded reluctant as he spoke, not quite looking at Amaris. "This ofuda, this talisman keep it at bay so as not to harm myself - or others. But as you can see, it is wearing down. Lace - father, he thought there would be someone here able to mend it."

Slowly, warily the chiseled head turned until the orange-red eyes rested upon the frame of the young woman. Whether he was afraid of a reaction or longed for one he wasn't sure himself, but if she dared to laugh at him... Well. It's not like they were linked by blood.

"Do you know of such a person?"


@[Amaris]

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Amaris Posts: 299
World's Edge Philosopher atk: 5.5 | def: 8 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16h :: 4 years HP: 70 | Buff: NOVICE
Dramyrth :: Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath & Frost Breath Whit
#6
"Of course he's real," the girl said, amusement glittering behind her eyes. The dragon huffed from her back, a small lick of flame puffing from his nostrils; he was taking far more offence to the comment than Amaris. Tulunka she murmured to him, only with her mind this time, reigning in the energy the little black longed to spout out. His mind was foreign and unusual, but the dragonmare could not give him the attention she wanted to just yet - Cathun was taking up the majority of her attention now. "Being deceased of body doesn't mean one's soul is gone forever. It is simply displaced, elsewhere. Having no body to hold your soul doesn't make one any less real." Of all the things she could have spoken of then - like the fact that they were apparently practically family - she was speaking of her magic, of the souls she brought from that otherness, her ability to breathe life, albeit temporarily, back into the souls of those who once frolicked through the realms of Helovia. Truly, Amaris felt something she couldn't fully define about the entire situation, a soft of confusion that mingled with a vague sense of betrayal.

The girl wanted to believe him, to be able to embrace him like the brother he reckoned himself to be, but she felt like there was a fracture between them, a gap filled with information that she hadn't been exposed to yet, a page missing from the encyclopaedia that described the lives of herself and all those involved in her life. It wasn't that she doubted the truth to his words, it was that she wanted to deny them, for some undefined, selfish reason. This sort of thing had the potential to change her world, and she was apprehensive about it, as anyone is about change. But her life had changed so much recently already - what was a long-lost sort-of relative-friend entering her life going to do?

He mentions magic, and dragons, how they were somewhat foreign concepts to him. The dragongirl raised a 'brow at this, for the colt very obviously existed through magic - the more time she spent in his presence, the more she recognised the feel of it, the almost burnt aftertaste that lingered in her throat upon digesting his scent, the way his mane and tail continually produced glowing embers, the way his eyes glowed with pure liquid magma… He was mystical, special in his own way, and as he stepped closer to her she did not rebuff the closure of distance nor retreat any. As the seconds trickled past, and his explanation came, she found herself letting go of the apprehension she felt, the doubt she longed to cling to (for it was nothing but an empty comfort to her), and suddenly felt her heart go out to him. Here she was, judging him just as many had judged her; here he was, afraid of the judgement he had clearly experienced in the past. How could she stand and be one of those prejudice bigots who had probably passed up many an opportunity based purely on what was on the surface? No, quite immediately the girl felt herself resolve to indeed embrace the colt as a brother, a comrade, a friend, to help him as his father had bid her, albeit in a roundabout way.

She smiled, a soft, genuine curling of her lips that shined behind her honey-gold eyes. Stepping closer to him, she extended her muzzle, more prepared for the contact now, recognising again the magic that thrummed through him as she felt his warmth. It reminded her of her time with the dragons of her father's realm, the creatures who had fire in their bellies and so rarely ever got cold (and if they did, they were surely ill). It reminded her of her father, with that same fire in his belly, embracing her in his strong grip. Just a simple touch, muzzle to muzzle, and the girl felt all the more at ease for the entire circumstance.

Of course, then the query arose about whether she could actually help him.

"There are crafters throughout Helovia, many of them generous, though they might still ask for compensation. Perhaps we should return to my home, the Dragon's Throat, and discuss it with Cera, our Forger. Or perhaps.." the girl was about to launch into an explanation of the Sun God, and how would surely be able to mend the broken talisman, but she didn't wish to overwhelm him with information (though he didn't seem to hesitate doing it to her). "Just how much did Lace tell you about Helovia?" she asked with a curious grin tugging on her lips.

[ ooc :: pretty much if he says "yep let's go" I can change his rank for you and we can get going, and continue on in the Throat ^_^ ]
Daniel Schiersner @ flickr & larfsalot @ deviantart
No need to mirror my post length - I have a horrible case of the rambly writer syndrome!
I like being tagged!
You are always welcome to 'try' and use force/magic on Amaris, but similar to spar posts, leave it to me to decide how the damage is taken please~

Cathun Posts: 88
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 3.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17.1 :: 3 HP: 60 | Buff: NOVICE
Tai
#7
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The distinction might be perfectly clear and obvious to her, but the colt just tilted the head slightly with a raised brow, obviously not following. How a dead something could still be considered real he didn't understand. Was the thing physical, solid, always there and unchanging? No, so why did she look at him like he had said something outrageous? Cathun was a practical soul, a rationalist. He preferred things that made sense, that weren't obviously tied to some obscure magical law or philosophical hypocrisy. It made as little sense as his lack of experience with magical phenomenon, but then again he was a strange person overall. The fire in his eyes contrasted oddly against the flowing curtain of curly hair, the silk ribbon that held the mane in place, the silver bells that jingled in tune with the gold of his sealing necklace, just as the sometimes refined movements clashed with stumbles, awkward smiles and utterly baseless flashes of mightier-than-thou arrogance.

It was enough to cause headaches just by trying to decide which was his true nature behind a poorly maintained mask, or whether he really was as fractured and displaced as he appeared.

Regardless, his joy when Amaris suddenly reciprocated his familiarity by a soft nudge of a champagne nose seemed as real as can be. The grin he gave her was big and bright and a little embarrassed, so intensely happy that he for a moment appeared as though lit from within. Only a small gesture, but Cathun took it as a sign that he had been accepted, that his presence would be tolerated and that the connection to their mutual acquaintance was acknowledged.

It meant more than he could say, so he just smiled and smiled until the cheeks hurt.

Sooty ears pricked attentively to catch the dragoness' words as Amaris proceeded to answer his query. Long legs danced in place with growing excitement as she offered to bring him along, the prospect of getting out of the stifling, hot and uneasy forest equally delightful to the possibility of mending the necklace. Yet, one thing made the colt pause, head tilting in confusion.

"Well... Not too much, to be honest. He mostly talked about people; you and this Tavi person, and Mirage and others he said was family. I thought Helovia was one land though? At least that's the impression I got from his tales... Either way I'd love to come!"

There was a question in there, and a look of slight disappointment at the discovery that the place in fact was not one, but many, not connected, but divided. It made it seem so much more complicated, and Cathun had been looking forward to something easy to understand, something fun yet relaxing that might take his mind off his own problems.

"But... maybe we can talk while walking? I don't know about you, but I don't really like this forest. It feels like it is.... watching." He looked around uneasily, eyes lingering for a moment on the sharp line that separated blackened, scorched ground from the dry, unscathed vegetation before quickly tearing away, back to the relative safety and ease of the hybrid girl. At least she gave him a sense of comfort and reliability, truly like the sister she could have been. Like the half-grown child he still was Cathun felt drawn to it, enveloped by it, and without resisting he let it guide his legs forward until he stood by her side, as of yet equal in height to the mare he one day would come to tower over.

"Ladies first!" He offered a slight wink as he bowed, mimicking the way his father used to arch the neck and extend a leg in excellent, gallant courtesy. And in that single moment the young grullo was the spitting image of the Silverthorn, so similar in kindness, warmth and appearance that all lingering doubts surely had to be seared away, burnt to ashes to drift upon a gust of fickle, leaf-strewn air. It was late summer and the air was warm, but the wind carried a promise of approaching storms, of rain and wind and change. Summer was drawing to a close, but to the young heir, the Firebrand, the crownless prince of forgotten thrones, the world was full of promise. As he took his first step towards the south he silently prayed that this new home would fulfill all the dreams he carried - or at least give him a chance to try his own luck.


@[Amaris]

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