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About oncertainty

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  1. Per what Confused Piraka said, it seems like these questions are in the interest of a potential fan project anyway? As for the question, I liked about G1: That (early on, at least) it made reference to lots of stuff that remained unexplained. I'm thinking here about how it made reference to characters, creatures, and locations that we never saw in detail. I loved reading and re-reading the encyclopedias and guidebooks like Rahi Beasts or Metru Nui - City of Legends or BIONICLE: World when I was a kid. All these little details that didn't relate to the main thrust of the plot, and often were left largely unexplained, made the world feel so expansive and alive. I liked how willing it was to reinvent its setting. 2004's Metru Nui was so different than the Mata Nui of 2001-2003, in terms of tone and genre conventions, and pretty much every year after that did a place that was significantly different from where we had been before. Even though I ultimately have some preference for the first few years of the story, I think it's very confident and interesting to keep going new places. And yeah I have to echo Nato's comment about the themes: recombining very fundamental themes felt positively mythic, and allowed it to speak to people of different ages very effectively. And for G2: It had a unique aesthetic which we hadn't seen in G1: Okoto wasn't just renamed Mata Nui, the City of the Mask Makers was a unique contribution to the franchise's visual vocabulary. It dispensed with some of G1's more regressive tendencies, like the gender restrictions on elements. The sets having gear features again was a nice touch, and they were incorporated into the design really well.
  2. IC: Gonrae - Onu-Koro She sounded unbothered, and her smile seemed consistent with that. It was hard to imagine though, for Gonrae who had known relative continuity of memory for his whole life, to have a great open gulf on one end. Sure, very old memories lacked a certain detail compared to recent ones, but it was a different thing entirely. Gonrae's memories formed a coherent flow, building one upon another, constituting who and what he was. What would it be like to not be able to trace aspects of yourself back to their origins, given a certain amount of reflection. It was a thought both tantalizing and disturbing. "It is a nice name for an island, I suppose. Although given that it's the only one we've got, I also have no real point of comparison. The Dasaka came from somewhere of course, but I haven't even seen one of them yet. I don't make it out to the coast much. Hm, I have always thought it would be pleasant to see the Naho Falls." He cocked his head askew to one side. "But I talk overlong about myself. I would say you're right, for what little my opinion is worth. If I take your attitude correctly, you've decided to make the most of things. I do wonder, though, what it is you plan to do next? Do you hope to travel, to learn more about the island? One ought to have a goal, I should think. The way to stay standing in a great wind is to not to be still, but to keep moving." The last part trailed off into a chuckle. "Ah, look at me. Now I've gone and borrowed a proverb. A thing like that." He smiled bashfully at his companion. OOC: @That Matoran with a Vahi
  3. IC: Dolbren - The Iron Mahi [Second Passenger Car] Datrox was probably right. He wasn't doing what Dolbren wanted him to do, but Dolbren could tell that he saw truly, at least in part. And if he didn't know now, he would know soon enough. The team in the first passenger car, with the exception of Surdo, were not possessed of Dolbren's own considerable social niceties. So be it. Perhaps Quoribay had well-considered when he chose the teams, however much Dolbren wished he could indulge himself. He knew how to do his job well enough. As soon as the red-armoured Toa said it, Dolbren considered Datrox's last remark. He smiled. It was genuine. The Ta-Toa might be tiring of their game, and he was so honestly worried about his Vortixx friend, but he had forgotten an essential truth of their situation. For a while, at least, no one would be getting off the train. Every piece remained in play. "Go then, keep your friend out of trouble. I do hope you don't need that sword to do it though. Keep out of trouble yourself, for that matter. And for your question, well. As far as I'm concerned, I don't have any wisdom to give. I just pay attention, that's all." He gave a loose salute. "I'll be here if you need me, not like I have anywhere else to go." He leaned against the back wall of the carriage, and crossed his arms. As soon as Datrox turned away, Dolbren's expression hardened. He stared down the aisle, past both Datrox and his friend, to the looming form of Minnorak. Catching the Vortixx's gaze as best he could, Dolbren gave a wink. Given his reputation and position within the Outsiders, Dolbren was sure that Minnorak knew how to distribute force if he needed to. If Datrox thought mucking with their plans would be easy, he was in for a surprise. All he could do now was wait in anticipation. Based on Minnorak's stance, however, he didn't imagine he would have to wait for long. OOC: @Tarn @Vezok's Friend @Nato G apologies for the wait, all!
  4. IC: Qorl - The Rift And so the Skakdi began to circle him, and Qorl felt lowering his gun had been imprudent. The Skakdi remained a Skakdi, however civilly Qorl had seen him act with other Lesterin. It took so little to win his trust now. Not to mention, his reaction at first didn't necessarily mean he wasn't here to kill Qorl. If this was only a coincidence, it was hard to accept. His expression neutral and projecting indifference, Qorl stepped back from the centre of the circle and matched the Skakdi's movement. His eyes flicked back and forth from the barrel of the gun to his opposite's perpetually-grinning/grimacing face. What did he want? What do I want? I want to sleep somewhere that has a pillow again. I want you to lower the gun and step directly off of my metaphorical neck. I, Great Spirit, I want a drink of water. His tongue felt fat and unwieldy in his mouth. Dehydration, of course. The Skakdi looked far better prepared than him, though following an impromptu flight through the wastelands that wasn't a difficult standard to meet. He had foraged nothing, The earth here had lay fallow for generations; his cousins who once cultivated it were long gone. A flash of disappeared generations danced at the blurring edges of his vision. He blinked, then spoke. "Sorry to say, you could give me very little of what I want. That doesn't have to be a problem, though. Until a moment ago I thought you were here to kill me. Now, I'm rather thinking you aren't." And you treat my people better than most, he thought about adding, but refrained. Perhaps it was better not to make him conscious of that. How he would treat Qorl was still in question, and that was what really mattered. Their steps as they circled were rhythmic, their paces nearly matched. It bothered Qorl that he didn't know why the Skakdi was here. That was one point against him being a bounty hunter: if he had seen Qorl enter the Rift, why did Qorl only see him after two days of waiting? And nobody went into the Rift without a reason. Qorl wouldn't have done it himself, if he didn't have good reason to believe somebody might be trailing him. What was so important that this Skakdi would come here regardless? One law still held out here though, that had particular bearing on this situation. Whoever holds the gun gets to ask the questions. Given that the Skakdi could raise his barrel a few fractions of a second faster than Qorl. A few significant fractions. Qorl supposed that gave him the right. "Look, I'll tell you whatever you want to know. Maybe you could give me a sip from your canteen first? I ran out of water yesterday, and I'm really starting to feel it." OOC: @Perp
  5. IC: Gonrae - Onu-Koro "Hm. Well, I couldn't tell you if it's obvious to anyone else. I just had a hunch based on your demeanor and the things you were saying. More importantly, I had a hunch that you wouldn't be too bothered by my saying." He spoke without much thought, prescribed utterances buying him time to think. The Toa's first question had sent him elsewhere. He saw the island as if he were very high up above it. He was dimly aware that it wasn't the real thing, given that he had never actually gotten to fly. What he saw instead was laid out in two-dimensional projection, surely a map he had seen once. After a moment it grew topographical; he charted the places he had seen and estimated their elevation. Disregarding those colourless and formless areas of his vision which represented those parts of the island he had never visited, he brought forth vegetation and erected buildings and peopled the island. Rahi walked and climbed and flew and trundled in the wild places, and the Matoran worked in their villages and towns. Day turned to night and night to day, the tides rose and fell. His gaze was an eye that sees but was not seen, and it rested only on beauty. It chased a school of Makuta Fish as they leapt upstream through the Hura-Mafa, grinning their rows of pointed teeth like they'd just got the best news of their lives. He watched the Iron Mahi pass, roaring like thunder, as it raced towards Ostia and the sea. He soared upwards along the face of Mount Ihu, crested the peak, and looked out across the island. Back where he started. And then he was back in the two-bit joint in the city where they never saw the sky. It was a pretty picture, but somehow the visual imagination was inadequate to telling the newcomer about the island. He rubbed one eye. Of course, as he realized, in asking "what island this is?" she was probably just asking for the name. "Ah, well, you see this is the island that has the same name as the Great Spirit: Mata Nui. And yes, it happens often." He nodded along with his own words. "Or at least, it happens often enough that I'm not surprised at all, but not so often that I've spoken to someone who really did wash up before. You really don't remember anything, huh? But you still speak the same language as the rest of us, and you seem to know what a Toa is, and you must know who Mata Nui is? They say the Great Spirit is what brings you here. You and people like you, I mean." OOC: @That Matoran with a Vahi no worries at all!
  6. IC: Dolbren - The Iron Mahi Dolbren raised the brows of his mask. He couldn't hear the specifics of the Vortixx's comment, mumbled as she pushed her way past him, but the tone was clear enough. Some people just didn't know how to deal with tact. For all she knew, he really was trying to help people. Still: when people showed you who they were, it was best to believe them. Not to mention, when it was revealed how things were going to happen, there was no use fighting the tide. He looked over to Datrox. "Well. I thought we might try the cargo cabin for the Sentinels, but it looks like your friend was impatient." He looked back to the fore of the carriage, peering down the aisle. "I don't want to overstep my bounds but, is she all right?" After less than a breath's pause, he rubbed the back of his neck. "Ah, don't answer that. Bad habit to pry. I don't need to know." He really, really felt like he did. "I can't say I like it, but if she's going up there she could probably use the support." Nice and noncommittal. That was for the best. It was nigh-on out of his hands. Deal with it Minnorak. Deal with it Surdo. What's that you say; leaving someone (someones?) out? Oh, well, Karmine or Baszlin? That would be be educational, certainly, but hard to imagine it might not just escalate things further. OOC: @Vezok's Friend @Nato G @Tarn
  7. IC: Qorl - The Rift The flesh adapted to a change of circumstances more slowly than the mind. Maybe this was an obvious truth to many. And yet, to the Lesterin who had only spent a matter of months living away from wind-sheltered villas on the coast of Seprilli, it was a revelation. He shivered in the nights that he no longer found cold. He sweat on days that no longer seemed hot to him. He trembled at the sound of war cries rolling across the plains, though he knew them to be impossibly distant, and knew himself to be beneath the notice of the criers. A tear came to his eye at the sight of Seprilli across the ocean, though he felt no desire to return home. The handle of his revolver felt large and uncomfortable in his hand, though he felt completely comfortable with the prospect of using it. A feeling could not be reduced to its conscious appraisal. Perhaps for this reason, or perhaps only because nervous energy made him grip it so hard his hand spasmed, Qorl's right hand shook around the handle of his gun. The skakdi's hand was steady. He had braced it with his other hand. The barrel which projected from the clenched fist was now angled sightly towards the ground, but it didn't take a gunslinger to know that the Skakdi could bring it in line with Qorl quicker than Qorl could raise his arm. And at this range the revolver's accuracy was absolutely lethal. But this wasn’t as much of a gamble as it might have looked to an observer. For one, the Skakdi had reacted slowly. Slowly enough to give Qorl a chance. Zakaz still hadn’t made a soldier of him, but when it was a question of two people, two guns, alone? That time to react was everything. So Qorl wasn’t quite a debtor here. He guessed that he had seen this particular Skakdi before, and as reticent as he seemed to give Qorl anything, the fact that he hadn’t blown him away immediately meant that his guess had begun to pay off. To speak, he had to fight against his ornery flesh. He had gone from hours of prone motionlessness to a full sprint. He could feel the inside of his lungs. He could feel his legs calling out to bend and collapse beneath him. He saw a fuzzy ring of darkness intruding at the edges of his vision. He swallowed. "Maybe I do. Maybe I saw you, oh, call it a week ago." It all seemed less certain now than it had only seconds ago. But he had to trust his split-second recollection. It was the attention to hygiene that had sold it to him. So rarely did you see a Skakdi that looked clean at all, when you happened upon one that was they really stuck in the mind. "Say I'm right; you parleyed for information with a caravan master, one of my people, somewhere between here and Khy;Barr. And seeing as you're not all too acquainted with who I am, and you haven't seen fit to shoot me already, I'm going to say I'm right that you haven't spoken with that caravan master, or any of his people, since then. How am I doing?" Maybe it was the desperation, but he was feeling convinced by his own reasoning. He was starting to see a chance. OOC: @Perp
  8. IC: Gonrae - Onu-Koro Gonrae peered across the table as his unexpected dinner companion took a seat. Whatever it was that was going on, she was acting as if she were equally as in the dark as he felt. She seemed nervous, blushing and fidgeting; he had felt awkward, but a case of mistaken identity really wasn’t worth so much worry as all that. Either very lonely, or very new to this, he supposed. But then again, perhaps she really was very new to this. She said that she didn’t really know anyone here. Maybe he had to broaden his scope of where ‘here’ could be. Gonrae gave his best attempt at a warm and avuncular smile. "No need to apologize, it seems I presumed too much of both you and myself. You'll have to forgive me that, I hedged my bets too early." He chuckled and then leaned forward, resting his chin on his clasped hands and his elbows on the table. "I certainly would appreciate some company, clearly I am far too quick to look a gift Ussal in the mouth. I don’t really know anyone in Onu-Koro either, and it’s nice to have a friendly face around. Especially after the reception I’ve had." He gave a small sigh, evidencing nothing more serious than boredom. "But really, the less said about my problems the better. I hope my saying this doesn’t trouble you, but you’re a wash-up, aren’t you? And a relatively recent arrival at that?" It was hard to know what else to say in this situation. They didn’t make a ‘Welcome to Mata Nui, sorry about the amnesia, we really still don’t know if it will ever go away’ greeting card. OOC: @That Matoran with a Vahi
  9. decline and fall must have earned one indulgence, in some seven months here : )
  10. IC: Shind Qorl Larin - The Rift Qorl          had                    fallen                         a                  long                           way                   down,                    but he had seldom been so far below sea level as this. That thought betrayed him for what he was, and he felt like a lost child before it. How Seprillian it was of him to reckon things by sea level; how ill befitting Lamo-Lyco-Zakaz. But he was on Zakaz now. He would have chuckled, had he not been keeping silent. It was worse than that, in fact. Qorl was inside Zakaz. In his mind he could see the view that would face him, if only he were to tilt his gaze some ninety degrees upward. The jagged crags of the Rift blacking out the sky in triangular swathes. They weren't just stone, though, no. Qorl could see nothing but two rows of great and pointed teeth. He was within the mouth of the Skakdi themselves, of Irnakk:Dii himself. By that, of course, he was saying nothing more than saying he was inside Zakaz. The two might as well be the same, separate examples of one identity, a fact which seemed so obvious to him now. In their legends the Skakdi claimed to have built Zakaz by hand. On Zakaz, it would be hard to believe otherwise, and not just because for Qorl to openly contradict the Skakdi narratives would be dangerous. The land was very much like the people. Past the giant's dentition a crooked line of blue sky was visible. He imagined it brighter than it ever was on Seprilli, framed in contrast with the blackened stone of the Rift. It had to be hard to blame him for running, didn't it? Didn't it? If he had stayed he wouldn't be seeing any more of the sky than this. He would not see the sky as a few bright columns in a high barred window. And that was if he was lucky, they might just as easily have killed him. House arrest if his family considered him worth doing something illicit, which he doubted. Better to disown upon burial. Cross his name from any records they could reach. His people were nothing if not pragmatic. All his rage at them was long spent. All his rage at that was long spent. He exhausted it in perfect darkness, as can only be found while creeping about in a ship's hold at night. Sipping brackish water to wash down rotten rations and discarded crumbs. And then he had slipped out to find himself on Zarrava's docks. The pirates and bandits and Skakdi couldn't care less where he came from or why. What reason could he have to be angry in their eyes? And so he was primed to accept one fact: he would have done the same thing. On Zakaz, pragmatism begat survival. For months he made that his policy. Do anything you have to do to survive. Walk out of there in one piece. To karzhani with whatever comes after. And yet, in that moment, he felt some of that old fire rise up within him. Though he was lying prone, his muscles tensed like a coiled spring. For a week he had fled across the wasteland. For two days he had chanced much movement only by night, sneaking some food and drink from his rations when he could be sure he was unobserved. For half an hour he had pressed his body close to the earth and done little more than breathe. All because of a bandit raid that had at first well, then gone very far south as soon as it was time to divide the loot. He had been sure at the time that, if he made it to the Rift, the place's reputation would be enough to dissuade any pursuit. But then he had caught sight of a Skakdi, some hundred bio away across a field of jagged stones, and wondered. Had they found someone brave enough, someone violent enough, to chase him right into the Rift? For the better part of an hour he had just kept wondering, and watched unmoving as the Skakdi wound his way across his field of view. In tense repose, he questions wandered beyond the Rift. Had he been taking the wrong lessons from Zakaz? The Skakdi formed Zakaz and Zakaz formed them and they were not a pragmatic people. And Qorl had just continued living as if he were still drinking bilgewater. What had he been doing? He couldn't quite see what he had to do, but he knew he needed to move to figure it out. And then Qorl did tilt his gaze up, as if to confirm his mental image. The dental aspect of the Rift's pointed protrusions was not as obvious in reality, but the resemblance was certainly there. The sky visible beyond really was a bright and pale blue. He dropped his gaze back down. The Skakdi hadn't visibly moved, but they could easily have noticed even that small movement. Qorl did not feel afraid. He could see the dark arcs of the teeth; he was standing at the edge of the great mouth. Where were his family? Where was Seprilli? He could answer that question. They were somewhere deep within that titanic gullet. But now, from where Qorl stood, he could see the sky. He only needed to keep moving, and he would surely reach the outside. So move he did. Qorl leapt to his feat, drew his revolver, and took off running. He laughed as he ran. His joints, stiff from stillness seemed to creak and cry out. He darted up and down crags of blackened stone, only his sandals keeping his feet from being shredded with abrasions. Dust and sand, kicked up by his sprinting swirled about him. But when he was close, close enough that the Skakdi condensed from anonymity into individual, particular being, Qorl slowed. He stepped only a few more paces, then stopped completely, his legs seeming to grow flexible beneath him. He raised his idle hand to his forehead, shading his vision, and let the other hand, and the weapon in it, drop harmlessly to his side. Beneath his hand he raised one eyebrow, and the corners of his mouth turned upwards into an incredulous smile. "I'm sorry, but, don't I know you?" OOC: @Perp
  11. IC: Dolbren - The Iron Mahi [A Game of Questions] Dolbren considered Datrox’s response as the three approached the far end of the car. His voice, to Dolbren’s mind, betrayed little skepticism. Either he was a better actor than Dolbren guessed, or things were less far gone than he might have supposed. In a way it was all the better if that was the case. As much as Dolbren might enjoy a fight, he still had a job to do. Nothing would work if they were all Karmine, whose most-used tool seemed to be shocking violence. And Dolbren was starting to like Datrox, so forthcoming he was. That was a rare virtue, to speak honestly to a stranger. Dolbren was happy to give him the benefit of the doubt. "There is something to be learned from it, you know." As he spoke he inspected the door. Just as he had very seldom been on the 'Mahi, he had absolutely never stepped between two cars on the moving train. Should prove educational. "Even if you're like me, like us, I mean, which you are; going back to the beginning can tell you something." Clarifying his remark, after a moment he added, "Even if your life as a Toa is so far removed from your life as a Matoran that it isn't even funny." He peered down and through the door's window. The carriages seemed to be attached by a kind of interlocking mechanical joint. He needed to get a closer look at that, one way or another. "But isn't it true that the way you acted, in every event you never could have predicted, was informed by every one that came before? And if you grant that, there's a chain of causality that leads back to whoever you were at the beginning. And that guy came from a place. So if you're at all self-reflective, you can learn something from that place." He turned back to his two companions and shrugged. Per the seeming rules of the game, having given them something he had to ask a question. "Do either of you want to go first, or shall I?" OOC: @Tarn @Vezok's Friend @BULiK and @Silvan Haven had the driver alert the sentinels in the cargo car a few pages ago, not sure how we're handling their actions.
  12. IC: Gonrae - Onu-Koro Gonrae cast his gaze upward. The greeting had come from a black-armoured Toa. Short for a Toa at that, but still well above his seated eyeline. He blinked and fumbled for his lenses for a moment, but she continued to approach. Blast, he had misplaced his lenses somewhere. Oh, he hadn't lost them at all. They were only on the table! He palmed the lenses and then shoved them in a pocket; she was close enough that it didn't matter anyway. Who was this person anyway? He raised one eyebrow and took a quick breath in, blinked and looked her up and down. Toa with black armour, not exactly out of place here. But he hadn't been planning to meet with any Toa. Who was she anyway? Great spirit, was she Ussalry? Had he violated some kind of municipal statute against sitting alone on patios? Perhaps against inordinate frowning? And then he sighed. Took a deep breath in, and rubbed the back of his neck. She was acting awfully familiar, sure, but long experience had told him that was more likely his impropriety than hers. He could have had a passably long association with this person all within a period of some great focus on work, and not be able to recall any of it at all. He wouldn't put it past himself. And either way, it wasn't like he could be choosy about his friends right now. His expression softened. "No, be my guest, take a seat. I am truly not waiting for anyone." He motioned with an open hand to the chair beside him. "I would call you a waiter, but I haven't seen one in half an hour at least. It wouldn't do much good anyway. I don't want to be rude, but the food here isn't much to write home about." Then he sat back in his chair, put both hands flat on the table, and looked at her again. Nope. Nothing. He could not remember where he had met this person. Best to bite the bullet then. No sense in prolonging his humiliation. "I'm really sorry, I feel rather foolish about it, but Toa-hero—" A nervous smile came to his face unbidden, "—for the life of me, I cannot remember where we've met before." OOC: @That Matoran with a Vahi it is absolutely ok!
  13. IC: Dolbren - The Iron Mahi [Down the aisle] With that, it almost seemed like Datrox knew what was going on. It was so excellent a riposte. All because, of course, Dolbren hadn't been planning on going anywhere. Excepting the cargo car, just a short distance down the aisle as it was. Somewhere along the way, within the next dozen kio if all went according to plan, Dolbren was going to quit the train proper. Apparently in some kind of mechanical carriage, no ussal required. He had to do something. "Let's walk and talk." His intonation was flat. At once three things happened: Dolbren dropped his gaze down and away from Datrox's eyeline, he sidestepped the other Toa to walk down the aisle, and his smile grew thinner. He was aware of the latter thing, but it would have happened even if he were not. As it was, however, it was something to which he suspected Datrox would pay attention. Always best to know where the other guy is looking. Their conversation was still more back-and-forth than interrogation, a fact of which he was sure Datrox was aware. He kept giving him things. Datrox had looked at the Vortixx again. She looked tired and sickly, and Datrox was worried about her. Dolbren was not so kind that he wouldn't pick that up and use it. "Your friend can come with us too." He hadn't even tried to hide his glance the second time, he had to know Dolbren would notice. That was enough to really smile. Still, despite Dolbren's flippancy, one thing was hard to forget. She was an unknown quantity. Another tick on the tally. Dolbren vs. People who might try to be a hero, 1:2 It would be a mistake to let Datrox's question hang unanswered. And yet there was something more difficult, in the moment, about fabricating something wholesale than lying about details. But, while Datrox must have known he was withholding something, Dolbren could play questions with the best of them. His interest in other people was omnipresent, and genuine. "As for your question: well, pal, haven't you ever wanted to go home?" OOC: @Tarn @Vezok's Friend @Void Emissary @BULiK
  14. I'm putting together some characters for Zakaz/Seprilli, and I'm wondering if playing as a Nakihl is something that is happening? I realize a few characters have picked up some Nakihl powers to varying degree, but seems like there are few full-on blood sorcerers.
  15. IC: Dolbren - The Iron Mahi [Time to play a card] Dolbren reflected for a fraction of a second: had Quoribay said anything about using real names? He could remember flashes of the planning, and he of course had his part in their dance committed to memory. And yet, as is often the case, he found what he needed to be just out of reach. And time was certainly short. Hesitate and he would lose the momentum; lose the momentum and he could lose much more than just that. If he was being honest with himself, he absolutely could not remember now. So, failing that, he had to reframe the question. What was the downside? When they succeeded, the inevitable response would have one more piece of evidence with which to track him down. What was the upside? After all, the downside was at least interesting. And, under the circumstances, it seemed to him to be firmly the right thing to do. Dolbren gave his best attempt at a winning smile, "The name’s Dolbren: once of Po-Wahi, lately of Ko-Koro. Pleased to meet you pal." He stuck his arm out, open handed, a quick swoop down the aisle past his interlocutor and away from himself into a full extension, "Shall we try and help some people?" OOC: @Tarn @Vezok's Friend @Void Emissary and maybe also @BULiK @Perp @Johnny Blocksville @Nato G
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