the Rift


[PRIVATE] [any god] different strokes

Kiuaji Posts: 40
Absent Abyss atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 9 HP: 61.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Matanye :: African Crowned Eagle :: None Nova
#1


There's a healthy dose of skepticism within the Poisoner, as he steps onto the lava forged land which holds the shrines of Helovia's Gods. Gods in his homeland were no more superstition and faded pages in history, with potions and soothsayers taking their place. To come to a land where Gods existed as living, breathing divine entities? Colour Kiuaji intrigued.

Besides, he now had a rather unusual purpose coming to the veins, if only to satisfy himself and the itch which had developed under his skin. 

Matanye landed on his back with an audible thump as he neared the four age withered Shrines, her shrill cry carrying with an echoed beat. "You're getting fat, dear." Came his clipped comment, which earned him a sharp peck. "Only looking out for your figure." It was a poor attempt to soothe her pinched pride, and if he was honest, it hadn't been said to do that in the first place.

With his bonded nestled within a gathered bunch of hair upon his back, he returned to look over each individual Shrine. He wasn't a Seer, or one of his glorified story tellers and book keepers, he didn't have much of a clue to those outside of the Moon Goddess. After all, it would be rather piss poor if he didn't at least know his Patron Lady somewhat.

Still, this was an odd request wasn't it? Or were Helovian's as adventurous as he was in going to great lengths to get what he wanted. Were they down to request the gods to sprinkle some of that magic of theirs into their life to get their rocks off? Maybe? No? Yes? And to boot, he wasn't sure which God to summon for it.

Perhaps they'd sense that, in the way his hooves clicked against the hardened black ground and his ears flicked to and fro with indecision, and one of them — hopefully the right one — would appear before him and send him on his merry way.

 "talk talk talk"

————————————————————————————————————————

using one of my VOTG Passes from my prize list to quest for:

Kiuaji to be turned into a mare so he can be loved down by Volterra and spawn another demonchild.

It'll be played as him wanting to be turned into a mare to go have some fun at the expense of incredibly lucky unfortunate stallions, but ultimately he'll get preggo and have to deal with that mess ;D


Some hearts are a desert you can die wandering in


Credits: Image by Littlewillow-Art @ DA
[Image: kiuajipixel_by_abbie1234_d9nzm2x_by_drea...9nzm7u.png]

"let me shatter your frame of mind, my dear"

force & magic permitted on Kiuaji at all times
with the exception of maiming and death.

God of the Spark Posts: 111
Helovian Ancient
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 15.3hh :: Ageless
Admin
#2

The GOD of the SPARK

On a long enough timeline, the survival rate of everyone drops to zero



"You know-" Began a thickly sarcastic voice, as it slipped through the air wafting towards the unicorn. "-most actually say something when they arrive here. Or at least they think it, very very loudly." In a dull and undramatic crack of lightning, the most stout of all the Gods appeared. There was a faint smell of petrichor in the air, as well as the barest scent of something burning. He stood, hip cocked and head tilted. His piercing blue stare looked the taller unicorn up and down once as he licked his tongue over his teeth. The God of the Spark was perhaps the most unimpressive of all of his siblings, and yet in many ways, he was the most powerful. Was it not a bolt of electricity that set a heart beating? Was it not time that demanded payment from all and was the ultimate equalizer? Sure he rarely bothered to let his wings show, he was the shortest and the roughest around the edges, but what of that? He was older than these hills and he'd be damned if he let pomp and circumstance dictate whether or not he did his hair.

"Unless you're intentionally trying to drag this out, saying something about why you're here is usually the best way to start." Pointedly the God looked at the boy, brows narrowed, though there was amusement in his stoic and grumpy gaze. His tail flapped once against his robust thighs before all movement on his part seemed to cease.

CREDITS: Tamme & Boom

Kiuaji Posts: 40
Absent Abyss atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 9 HP: 61.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Matanye :: African Crowned Eagle :: None Nova
#3



 "What can I say, thinking out loud is for those who are both daft and dull." He responded, a thought not exactly spared to who or what he had aimed his retort to. The god appeared to him in a crack of lightning, and amethyst eyes had to look down in order to see him, weren't Gods supposed to be taller than their mortal subjects? The whole shebang of grandeur and otherworldly power?

As he peered at the pint sized God, he supposed, when you're all powerful and zapping here and there in strokes of lightning, who gave a shit if you were pocket sized? He wouldn't, he would be all for those sweat pants and curler days —  turning up with the facial mask still on to deal with mortals wanting his help.

There's a rugged charm about the stout God that makes him easy on the eyes, not a conventional beauty by any means, but then again, he liked men who sweated, bellowed and looked dishevelled for a living. Stout would do nicely, Matanye can only roll her eyes from her perch on his back before she returned to halfheartedly trying to braid his hair with her beak.

'trust you to like short rude god.'

A mental jab is sent her way and his attention returned to the God, ears pressed forward and a light smirk upon his painted maw as his head tilted to the side — the jewels upon his face and horns clinking like chimes in the breeze.  "I do like a stallion that gets straight to the fun." He chuckled lightly. "Simply put, I want you to turn me into a mare. I have an itch that needs scratching and well, as much as I'm blessed looking like one, I'm afraid some stallions just can't take it when they find out my nethers don't match everything else." He stated with a wink, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.


 "talk talk talk"

————————————————————————————————————————

using one of my VOTG Passes from my prize list to quest for:

Kiuaji to be turned into a mare so he can be loved down by Volterra and spawn another demonchild.

It'll be played as him wanting to be turned into a mare to go have some fun at the expense of incredibly lucky unfortunate stallions, but ultimately he'll get preggo and have to deal with that mess ;D


Some hearts are a desert you can die wandering in


Credits: Image by Littlewillow-Art @ DA
[Image: kiuajipixel_by_abbie1234_d9nzm2x_by_drea...9nzm7u.png]

"let me shatter your frame of mind, my dear"

force & magic permitted on Kiuaji at all times
with the exception of maiming and death.

God of the Spark Posts: 111
Helovian Ancient
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 15.3hh :: Ageless
Admin
#4

The GOD of the SPARK

On a long enough timeline, the survival rate of everyone drops to zero



What can I say, thinking out loud is for those who are both daft and dull. The God rolled his eyes. What a perfectly stupid thing to say, but he didn't voice this opinion. Likely it would be more of a strain on his senses to endure a philosophical debate with the boy before him, than to merely let his comment slide.

The God's eyes widened with genuine surprise as the unicorn before him instructed the God on what it was he wanted him to do. Not what he would like him to do - oh no. The words falling from this one's lips certainly did not have the ringing undertones of a question, or a request. There was no reverence, no piety. Just a demand, or so it seemed to the God, whose lips thinned into a tight line.

The God internally groaned as he was winked at, and he momentarily considered transporting this one right to the Steppe and imprisoning him in a glacier for a few seasons. Maybe that would help his itch.

Instead, he just flatly said, "And why the fuck would you want to do that?" His gaze was piercing, but his expression was still fairly neutral, bordering on bored. "You want to be turned into a mare, in this sexist society that you all have created here, just so you can let a man have his way with you? Is this sexual itch of yours so great that you would ask me to bend the laws of nature just so you can have a one night stand?" The God, all for equality and equity, thought that this request was preposterous. Had this idiot asked him for magical gender reassignment surgery based on something more important, such as gender identity rather than mere sexual frustration, he might have complied. But this?

"You've already got one hole close enough. Use that." He grumbled.

CREDITS: Tamme & Boom

Kiuaji Posts: 40
Absent Abyss atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 9 HP: 61.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Matanye :: African Crowned Eagle :: None Nova
#5



Well, it seemed in his first dealings wit Gods, he managed to get the most angriest — no, angry wasn't quite the right word as Kiuaji's brow rose with the God's outburst of surprise — difficult was more apt. He reminded him of that old Village Soothsayer gone rigid with age and wrinkled with the incompetence of the youthful. No doubt, when he was crooked and bow kneed (oh the horror, he wasn't quite ready for those first wrinkles) with age, he would also have a dismal view when the young bodies came to him asking bizarre and unusual requests. Still, a stallion coming to ask him to be a mare? it'd definitely break up the monotony of handing out magic and power left, right and center.

He's not phased as the God berated him for his choice, merely flicked his multi-toned tassels and let out a small sigh. Now who was the one dragging the ordeal out? and debating with a God, if memory served, had never done any equine any good. They either were cursed, berated or a little of both their mortal debate partners — fortune did not often favor the bold when it came to the divine. "If the forefather's of this land laid the stones for a sexist society, that is not my fault, I'm afraid." He offered with a shrug of his shoulders. "It is up to those who are in charge to start rolling the stone of change. Also, I doubt anything more I say to that, would appease you." He added as an after thought.

"I'm afraid the God's of my land are decidedly dead and displaced, or so the story goes. It's a bit blurry on the facts. Unfortunately, I'm terribly inexperienced with the dos and don'ts of Gods and your mythical shenanigans." Kiuaji said, more to himself than the short stack he was currently glancing down at. Matanye gives an unamused click, to both her bonded and the God, already bored at the dreary exchange. Gods were fickle creatures, and she had enough dealing with Kiuaji never mind sitting in on him trying to converse with a stubborn old goat. "Either way, I'm sure you've had more boring and dismal demands and requests brought to your shrine by some googly eyed equine filled with sparkly hopes and dreams."


This was going to be a drag, he could tell. Given the God's ending quote of having a hole already, he let out a snort. "Believe me, if I could, I would. But alas, I cannot. I would appreciate the help greatly, if you would lend me your boon." He's adamant on this, and if he had to sit his pretty ass on the God's Shrine until he finally got bothered enough, he would.




 "talk talk talk"

————————————————————————————————————————

using one of my VOTG Passes from my prize list to quest for:

Kiuaji to be turned into a mare so he can be loved down by Volterra and spawn another demonchild.

It'll be played as him wanting to be turned into a mare to go have some fun at the expense of incredibly lucky unfortunate stallions, but ultimately he'll get preggo and have to deal with that mess ;D


Some hearts are a desert you can die wandering in


Credits: Image by Littlewillow-Art @ DA
[Image: kiuajipixel_by_abbie1234_d9nzm2x_by_drea...9nzm7u.png]

"let me shatter your frame of mind, my dear"

force & magic permitted on Kiuaji at all times
with the exception of maiming and death.

God of the Spark Posts: 111
Helovian Ancient
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 15.3hh :: Ageless
Admin
#6

The GOD of the SPARK

On a long enough timeline, the survival rate of everyone drops to zero


"You think it is the fault of the forefathers?" The God emphasized with mock incredulity, emphasizing the word fathers. Would this idiot before him pick up on the subtle sexism of the phrasing he used? Probably not. It is up to those who are in charge to start rolling the stone of change. "Oh is it now? Someone else's problem, eh? Despite the fact that you'd like to slip into the skin of a woman? A few hundred years worth of oppression doesn't bother you, eh? Nah, and why should it. You're only do it for the fun. Because that's what being female is all about, isn't it? Fun? And by fun I of course mean the itching scratching kind. That's all woman are good for after all, right? That one extra hole?" The God's eyes narrowed and his lip twitched with the beginning of a snarl. His ears were firmly planted flat against his skull.

However as this .. this insufferable child continued to speak, his ears perked forward, taking in each incredulous word the boy had to offer. My mythical shenanigans? The God wondered with growing annoyance.

"HAH." He roared, spittle flying unapologetically from his lips. "You think you're so much better than some googly eyed equine seeking sparkly hopes and dreams? You who are here to change your entire anatomy just to a please a few stallions who won't take you as you are? You who are so ignorant as to disrespect the plights of an entire gender, just because you want to be fucked?" The God's shoulders had begun to shake with his fury and his breathes were coming in annoyed puffs of air.

"I would take a thousand doe-eyed power seekers over the likes of you." He snarled. Lightning had begun to spark around his coat - static discharge being released from the tension inside of his compact frame. Sparks began to fall around his hooves, gradually accumulating. Magic wafted them closer, barring them from being absorbed into the ground. With a final snort, a bolt from the God's horn seemed to super-charge the air. It would sting and burn Kiuaji's coat, causing some parts of him to fall completely numb while others burned as if a thousand small but hot needles were being inserted.

"TELL ME NOW, HOW IS YOUR ITCH?" The God roared over the sound of continual zaps of current that made the ground they stood upon appear blue. The pain Kiuaji would have been feeling began to intensify. "TELL ME MORE ABOUT MY MAGICAL SHENANIGANS. SHOULD I THANK YOU FOR COMING HERE WITH YOUR OH SO INTERESTING REQUEST? THAT IN MY LONG LIFE I SHOULD BE SO BLESSED AS TO MEET ONE SO INTERESTING AS YOU?" The air temperature had dropped and the sky had darkened. Despite his short stature, the God appeared large somehow - and with his electrical magic exerted, the outlines of his wings began to show. Burns would have begun to appear on the stallion's coat, for the current would have burned where it touched along with disrupting his ability to feel his limbs.

"TELL ME WHY I SHOULD GRANT YOUR REQUEST FOR A SEX ORGAN AND NOT SIMPLY INCINERATE YOU FOR YOUR RUDENESS AND IGNORANCE."


CREDITS: Tamme & Boom

Erthë Posts: 440
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5.5
Filly :: Hybrid :: 14,2 hh :: 3 years HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Chan
#7

She had been coming to this place quite often recently. The treacherous path that wound up towards the plateau and the ruined shrines was quickly becoming as familiar to her as the mossy trails of the Edge. As she grew accustomed to the grim landscape, Erthë learned to see the details of it and appreciate its barren, stern beauty. There was life here, more than she had ever thought possible. Lichens and tough grass grew in the cracks where dust and sand from the volcano settled, watered by rain and hardened by the frequent storms. Birds came aplenty to feast on the treasures that hid beneath the frothing surface of the ocean, and following in their wake came larger creatures - mammals, lizards, all manner of creatures she rarely had names for.

Humming cheerfully on a wordless tune as she strolled along, Erthë kept her eyes open to see if she would spot anything new today. She was in a good mood; though the day was hot there was a pleasant breeze coming from the sea, enough to keep bugs off her and let the sweat dry on her skin for the first time in what felt like years. In the crook of her wing rested a small bouquet of flowers, picked specially from a place she knew where the flowers still bloomed. It was hard to find greens now, the sun had done a good job of driving the moisture out of everything but the toughest plants.

Suddenly, and it was truly sudden, the sky ahead darkened. Clouds pulled together and began to swirl above the shrines at a furious pace, so thick that they seemed to block out the sun. Erthë jerked her head up and stared open mouthed as the underside of the heavenly maelstrom lit up with flashes of light, sizzling blue explosions that made her eyes sting and left dancing spots behind as she blinked.

What was going on? Was someone up there doing battle? Was someone destroying the shrines?

Flowers scattered as the young mare abruptly spread her wings and leaped off the nearest edge, so desperate to get wind under her wings and bring herself up there that she nearly fell flat on her face. Wobbling precariously in the air and beating the feathered limps with a lack of grace she hadn't displayed in a long time it took her some time to gain enough altitude. Cursing this idiotic delay and swearing loudly over her own clumsiness the girl tore off towards the lightning storm, recklessly throwing herself in amidst the swirling clouds to get a clear view of what was going on.

What she saw made her scream out loud, in shock and indignation.

On the ground below stood Kiuaji, the strange unicorn that was Tembovu's friend and her own herd mate, and all around him was lightning. It hissed and spat as it zipped across the ground, over rocks and gravel that cast deep shadows against the blue light. Even from way up in the air Erthë could feel the stench of singed hair, acrid and foul in her nostrils. In the midst of all this, the source of the darkness and the crackling magic and screaming at the top of his lungs stood the Time God.

Only,  he looked nothing like the valiant warrior she had met in the Blood Falls, nearly two years ago. Gone was the noble aura and the cool rationality, replaced by what seemed to her to be uncontrolled rage. The god seemed somehow larger than she knew him to be, and in the darkness beneath the cloud cover she thought she saw the sparking, glistening outline of wings protruding from his side.

What was this? Had he gone mad? He sure looked mad to Erthë, who did not waste a second on hesitating.  

"NOOOO!"

Battered by howling winds the girl folded her wings tightly against the sides and dropped into a steep dive like a falling angel, straight down towards the ground where she landed hard in front of Kiuaji. The impact sent a stab of pain shooting up her poorly mended leg and jarred her enough to make the world spin and darken; with a strained groan she forced the legs not to buckle and threw herself forward her wings splayed out in a silky white barrier as she faced the Lord of Time, wide eyed and terrified of what she was doing.

"STOP THIS!" she screamed, her voice surprisingly steady considering how her insides were squirming.

"Why are you HURTING him!? You who are so strong, why are you bullying someone who couldn't possibly defend themselves?"

Erthë trembled from head to foot where she stood, fear darkening her eyes until they appeared as dark pits against the pallor of her skin. It hurt to stand there, so hard to breathe; the magic that permeated the air felt like a living thing that nipped and bit at her limbs, her own hair blackening and smoking whenever the arcing electricity touched her. Yet she refused to move, refused to contemplate the mad folly of her actions; despite the intense urge to turn around and run back from whence she had come she raised her head high and stared straight at the raging god, praying and hoping that he would remember her.

He had called her name once, one winter day in a red forest. It had made her brave and brought her feet not from the battlefield but onto it, onto the winding path that ultimately placed her here before him. One might even be so bold as to suggest he had himself to blame for her interruption? If not for him she might never have learned to care so deeply for the helovian gods that she would run into danger to protect a symbol of their existence, or risk her life for a friend without even stopping to think it over.

Not that she would ever dare say that outright. If she got out of this alive it would be a miracle, and she would have to double her offerings to the gods in gratitude.


ERTHË
It's too cold outside for angels to fly
Image Credits


@Kiuaji - I have permission from Nova to join the thread and mention Kiu's burned hair! :)

~| Use of magic and violence is always permitted |~
~| Please only tag in opening posts |~

Kiuaji Posts: 40
Absent Abyss atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 9 HP: 61.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Matanye :: African Crowned Eagle :: None Nova
#8
Things went south very quickly, what he had assumed would be a pleasant exchange at the veins, turned out to be the complete opposite. He had never been particularly wording things well, combined with his usual tone — it could easily be taken one way when he had meant the complete opposite.

The God begins to speak — no snarl at the Dorobian — and Kiuaji's brows raise as the collected composure of his exterior began to fracture. The Short stallion took his words a way he hadn't meant to drive the conversation. At first, his lips open to give a response, though before the words formed on his tongue he rammed his mouth shut again. The last thing he wants is his beloved bonded, for all the annoyance she causes him and all the love she makes him feel, to be damaged as well.

The brain to mouth filter is flicked on and the gears long unused suddenly whirred to life.

Well, he gets fried. The bolt is enough to elicit a sharp rasp from the Poisoner and his bonded takes to the skies with a startled shriek. Shriek she does, deafening cries as she realizes her Bonded is in danger, her feathers scattered on the stormy breeze. His ears fall back against his poll, the assault from his eagle's frayed emotions are enough to break away more of the veil he had worked so tirelessly to weave all these years. The sensation is indescribable, as though parts of him suddenly disappeared into nothingness, and he has to take a moment to look, with gritted teeth and jarred movements to see if they're still there. What he see's is dismal, but not expected from the pain currently surging around his body. The acrid, foul smell of his coat burning as angry welts appear in small jagged lines across his haunches and shoulders. He knows that if he takes a step, his legs might not hold him as the numbness shifted and slithered to one body part to another.

The God yelled once once more, but his attention is dragged instead to the white fae which descended from the sky in front of him — right into the jaws of the Gods assault. There are few things in life Kiuaji would throw himself before in order to protect, so few, precious and delicate, which he wraps beneath layers upon layers. He has never counted on anybody before to leap into the fires for him, in fact, he would ban the thought. He can only watch, dumbfounded and in pain as the white filly faced up to the stout, angered god who seemed leagues bigger than he actually was a few moments ago.

"Erthë." It's forced out between his teeth, Matanye's shrieks are still echoing, a throb of panic and anguish which needles like the pain he's currently experiencing. Help me, the eagle's calls die in the next moment, as she circles through the storm and looks at her bonded. Help me get in front of her, guide me. His legs are numb, and he's surprised he's managed to stay standing for as long as he had. Slowly, with Matanye acting as his eyes from above, and her croon in his ears, he wobbled and dragged his faltering limbs to stand in front of the white filly. Just in time, it seemed, for his back legs crumbled and he's forced into an awkward sit.

"I'm afraid I made a mistake." He murmured toward her, before he directed his attention to the God currently making him pay for his poor word choice. "I was rather idiotic," White lined lips are drawn into a grimance, mostly out of pain and the sudden divert the day has taken. "It's just rather awkward to admit that you'd like to experience life as a mare for awhile, rather than just look the part." A breath is exhaled afterward, teeth gritted as he forced himself lax and his walls to dissapate for a moment. Weren't you supposed to be honest with gods? or had he not heard that old soothsayer right, or was it that pretty priest from up...bah, who cared who had said what. What mattered was that he hit the rewind button and tried again, and did it right. "I thought it would be easier to dress it up as wanting to have an itch scratched." Somewhere, he can hear Matanye croon again, that he's taken a tentative step out of his comfort zone, probably by the only thing that could get him to budge, but it's a step in the right direction she would take either way.

Kiuaji

image | coding
[Image: kiuajipixel_by_abbie1234_d9nzm2x_by_drea...9nzm7u.png]

"let me shatter your frame of mind, my dear"

force & magic permitted on Kiuaji at all times
with the exception of maiming and death.

God of the Spark Posts: 111
Helovian Ancient
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 15.3hh :: Ageless
Admin
#9

The GOD of the SPARK

On a long enough timeline, the survival rate of everyone drops to zero


Just what was happening here? First this horned baboon wanted to turn himself into a glorified sex doll just for the sake of a few stallions too caught up in gender and sexual identity confusion to get over themselves, and now a gimpy child was suddenly shouting at him to stop.

Did no one in these lands understand that the Gods were not here to barter? That their word was absolute? Who did these mortals think they were, that their demands meant anything at all? That they could stand in the fact of divine power and dare command anything?

With an electric glare, the God of the Spark cast his gaze towards Erthe, his ears flat on his skull. "Pain is a fine teacher, child." He snarled in her direction. Lines of electricity raced to meet her. The fine brindled lines of white on her body began to glow with blue-white light as the static charge began to burn her fur. "Perhaps those who can't defend themselves should learn some manners." He continued. "Like yourself. Do not interfere in what you cannot possibly understand." And with that, the pain on Erthe's body from the static ceased - but so did Erthe. In a flash of blue light, Erthe was transported far to the North, to the Steppe.

As Kiuaji begins to speak, the electricity begins to dim, and then fall away completely with his change of tone. The God stands as if nothing has happened, his face neutral once again. Listening. With a snort, the God leaned backwards slightly, cocking a hip and flapping his tail against his hocks casually. "You do know that my kin and I can all read minds, yes? That we can burn you, bury you, and tear you apart where you stand, without batting an eye. This is the power we wield. So yes, I would say you've made a mistake. Regardless of how you dress it up, we will always know your true intentions." He muttered flatly, sounding a weird mixture of amused and condescending. 

They were Gods after all. It didn't take a genius to know that being an asshole wouldn't get you far. The God might have not known much about this new generation of Helovian's, but this attitude of pompous indifference towards the deities needed to stop. He didn't need to be worshiped, but he'd be damned if he was disrespected. 

"Now that we've got that all squared away -" The God bobbed his head slightly, and a weird curtain of blue-white light fell over the two. The air seemed to ripple, and as it cleared, Kiuaji's body was as it was 5 minutes prior - free of burns, fused hair, and scars. "-I can grant what you seek. If you want to experience life, then experience it. In this, I hope you come to realize that what it is to be female is more than what genitalia you sport." His eyes closed, and he exhaled a breath that sparked and glistened with power and electricity. "I leave the choice up to you. To fulfill this quest you can either experience what it truly means to live life in a body that you don't think accurately reflects who are you, or you can experience the plight of the females of Helovia. What say you?"


CREDITS: Tamme & Boom


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