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 Posted: Tue Apr 07, 2009 3:24 pm
The conversation was businesslike, first and foremost. Taz was harboring no bullshit. Understandably so, as he had just that night lost a limb. So Sieg answered straight and upfront when questioned.
First thing was his name. Siegfried offered it freely, if warily. As it was given, the Nosferatu at the table cracked open a laptop and began tapping away at a frenzied pace on the keyboard.
So, Siegfried...iunno what you mean by this "peace of mind" bullshit, but you're pretty outta date in your info. Where've you been the last ten years, a hole?
Siegfried nodded.
Ja, mein Herr. Ich komme aus Deutschland, und I und mein pack keep to ourselves. The Camarilla of Europe ignore us, so long as we keep to the wilds. This ist gut, fur the Garou are troublesome.
A country bumpkin, then? No wonder you look funny. You need a change in clothes, step into the good ol' twenty-first. So...Gangrel, right? How old?
Hardly surprised by the questions, the Gangrel nodded once more. Rather than being offended by the comments, he simply took them in stride and continued on.
I vas embraced on the eve auf the second vorld var, at the age of thirty-five. Now, if you vill be a gut host und gibt mir deinen Name? I am no enemy, mein Herr, und you needn't treat me as one.
That brought a chuckle from the Nosferatu. A genuine sound, as she clearly seemed to take humor from the light jab at Taz. Turning her hooded face to the other anarch, she nodded.
No "Siegfried" from what I've got. Gimme 'till tomorrow to check with a few other sources, but he's a damn ghost, for all I've got.
Her interruption came just as it looked likt Taz was about to lash Siegfried right and proper with harsh words. This new input silenced his anger, however, and made him pause for thought.
Alright. So, Siegfried. M' name is Taz, plain 'n simple. Ventrue of the 10th generation, sired just after Korea. And you, my Germanic little friend, have stumbled into a warzone. Consider this a favor to you. You keep walkin' around at night, SOMEBODY is going to try and either pressgang you into service, or just cave your head in. Damn squints like to step on the locals throats almost as much as the ********' archons do, they're just all civil about it when they stuff the shotgun up your a**. Consider yourself a guest of the Free State Militia. You've my personal apology for shootin' you up the other night, and I'm not gonna try and draft you into anything, but....with the way you just tried to get yourself killed throwin' your balls at that Brujah, methinks you oughta lay low, dig?
Siegfried nodded. Glad to finally have some civility in matters, he mumbled an affirmation and a short thanks. Now that hospitality had been offered, he couldn't in right mind turn it down. Thus far, he had no reason to suspect this man of ill intent, just of a strange and vast difference in personality and culture.
So, onward came the sun, and so the anarch crew rested for the day, and Sieg among them.
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Posted: Tue Apr 07, 2009 3:43 pm
*And lo, the next nightfall. For Cheese, it had not been a good 24 hours. Though not outrightly tortured, he'd seen better days and the swelling from the previous night had only just begun to abate, leaving him black and blue in all sorts of places.
It had been a beating and nothing more. Sure, it hurt, but Theo hadnt broken anything, hadnt torn any new holes into his captive. If Cheese had been slightly smarter, he'd have been wondering why - Theo was more than capable of tearing off limbs by hand. But then, if Cheese had been smarter, he wouldnt have been in this mess in the first place. The beating had continued until he'd fallen unconscious and then into 'sleep'.
Now, with darkness fallen and Cheese finally awake, he found himself being roughly dragged from his cell to the main chamber where Theo was talking on a vid screen to the man that was ostensibly his boss - Jan Pascek. His head was pounding, and a brief touch to the right side of his head revealed he HAD in fact bled in one area, though the small amount of blood indicated it probably hadnt been intentional.*
"We got him sir. Yeah, Gus is bringing him up now."
"This had better be worth my time, Theo... I've got a lot to do."
"With respect sir, you DID send me to find him. For breaking into your home and the damages."
"Oh HIM... well, lets see him."
"Gus! Drag that sack of s**t over here."
*Cheese was dutifully dragged to the screen, supported by the hulking man apparently called Gus. He looked liek the sack of s**t Theo described him as.*
"...Theo."
"Sir?"
"How many times must I tell you? You cannot BEAT those who owe me SERVICE! How can I use that wretch? I wouldnt even be seen dead with him taking out my GARBAGE."
"...sorry sir. s**t bag had it coming."
"From you, Archon?"
"...."
"Very well Theo. We will do things your way. I doubt the filth has any cash to speak of, simply... teach him your lesson and release him. Give him the usual warning. We will talk when you return to Washington."
"Yes sir."
*The link disengaged. Theo was scowling fit to burst, and the first thing he did was backfist Cheese*
"And now I got the boss to deal with thanks to you young bloods who cant heal for s**t."
*Cheese's night was about to descend into a SECOND beating, this one sanctioned, with the message NEVER to cross the Camarilla again or face Final Death quite LITERALLY drummed into him. His head hurt even worse after that, but he was driven out into the night and dumped not far from where Theo had picked him up, the Archon shoving him out of the truck they were in callously as it slowed, then roared off into the night.
Cheese was left to do as he pleased. Theo, in the mean time, had dropped the dumbass muscle look and sat in the back of the truck, grinning and smoking, one hand caressing the gun in his lap*
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Posted: Fri Apr 10, 2009 1:48 pm
Troubled, were the Gangrel's dreams. It was supposed that the dead did not dream, that during the bright hours of the day the dead rested as the corpses they were. This was not the case, for as Siegfried lay in rest, his form trembled with troubling visions. None could see that he suffered silently, for all around him were asleep as well.
The awakening, then, saw Siegfried surrounded by the still forms of the anarch crew. They were slowly arousing from their own rest, though only two were already awake. The Nosferatu, and one of the others, whom Sieg had not yet been introduced to.
The Nosferatu was not long in remaining. She departed just as the rest of the crew began climbing from where they had laid in rest, and setting about the nightly grind. A waking meal was partaken of, and shared with the guest of the safehouse.
The guns were broken out, the ones that had seen use the night before. With almost ritualistic fervor, the anarchs cleaned their kit. There were a good several weapons to work through, though it was only work of an hour, little more. With the haven smelling strongly of oil and gunpowder, the crew packed the weapons away, and broke out more conventional pleasures. Cards, for one. A game of spades was being carried on at the table. Another of the group left, presumably to deal with their own affairs. Sieg was left mostly to his own affairs, though Taz insisted that he remain.
It's a little of hospitality, a little of security, Siegfried. Jess is finishing up her check on your background. Between the squints, the lunatics, and the tower...I mean, the Cathayans, the Sabbat, and the Camarilla....we can't be too careful. Besides, you still have Theo to worry about. Being a mouthy little a** to an archon isn't the wisest course of action.
Siegfried accepted this answer peacably. It was a fair enough reason, and Sieg found that he held no ill feelings towards the pack that had picked him up. Fierce though his anger had been the previous night, it had burned out swiftly. This left the Gangrel feeling well at peace with his circumstance, and he took to spending the early night in quiet observation of his hosts.
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Posted: Fri Apr 10, 2009 2:29 pm
*It had been another rough night for Cheese. Left stranded in the middle of nowhere familiar, he'd made it - barely - into a part of town he was safe in, collapsing to torpor at dawn in one of the lesser safe spots near home.
Waking now the following night, his only goal was getting back to the rest of the Anarchs, bruises and all*
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Posted: Sat Apr 11, 2009 10:07 am
Poor ol' Cheese...beaten and abused, left on the streets possibly to burn, with hardly anything in his system to live off of. No one was looking for him, not when Theo had been so adamant about taking him back to the east coast.
So it wasn't for another night until he managed to find himself picked up by some of his old comrades. There were snickers at the man's expense, just as there was genuine willingness to help an ally in need. He was tossed (literally) into the back of a truck, and driven to a safehouse. A ratty townhouse, it was hardly the sort of place most people would suspect of holding a pack of bloodthirsty, overarmed undead.
In the storm drain, meanwhile, Siegfried had found himself engaging the Nosferatu in a game of chess. She had returned, and conferred with Taz without much concern for whether Sieg heard or not. According to her findings, he was a ghost. A nobody. And more importantly, she wasn't the only one looking for info.
It seemed to satisfy Taz, who then offered Sieg safe haven until he so chose to leave. Unwilling to turn down such hospitality in an unfamiliar city, Sieg accepted. Then, he occupied his time with a friendly game against Jess.
She was winning, though Sieg had not been without a tricky maneuver or two. He just wasn't very good at chess, compared to the woman opposite him. It hardly mattered, though. The small talk was more interesting than the game. Jess was not technically an anarch, Sieg soon discovered. She only had anarch leanings when it came to keeping the coast Cainite controlled. Certainly, she had many friends among the anarchs by now, but her ties were still nominally to the Camarilla. But she was an unimportant little information broker, so it hardly put her loyalties into questionable light. She agreed to protect her friends and coworkers, so long as they protected her.
It was from Jess that Sieg gathered a more full picture of what had happened to the city in the past few years. Her's was a less biased depiction than Taz's had been, with far less anger. She had been around for the life and death of the free state, and largely, she had been unimpressed. While sympathetic to the ideals of the anarchs, she viewed their methods as overly simplified. Too many revolutionaries without a plan, she said. Sieg understood this, and agreed. Both, however, would fully admit that even if the methods were poor, the cause itself was a good one.
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Posted: Mon Apr 13, 2009 7:50 pm
Seraphim Blazeheart Still overconfident mon ami....*It wasnt clear which of his other selves Sera was aijming the comment at, but either way, the blood 'around' Abaddon flowed and spilled back down, seeping into the floor it seemed. Abaddon was no doubt to busy to care over much, what with countering Corbin and then deciding to turn his focus on Seraphim. The indigo haired triplet grinned. He made no attempt to step away from Abaddon, no flinch or worry as massive hands clamped onto his shoulders. He merely looked up, MEETING Abaddon;s gaze* Beastial... cainite... self?*He laughed, and woudl have doubled up with it had it not been for the calws on his shoulders, but the depth of his amusement rippled through him, and Abaddon woudl feel it* Ich. Bin. Antichristen!*He leered into the deadly visage of the Beast and LET him attempt his transmogriphication. Abaddon woudl find life IN every cell, though.. not the same as that of a mortal. There was also something dark about his genetics, some weird combination of life and death, neither one state nor the other* Call it the gene of darkness... YOU followed the abyss... I stuck to being the temptation. Widow!*The blood on the floor had seeped into place around Widow, who stood far back from the rest, surrounded now by sigils of her kins' blood, her hair streaming back with the amount of power she was channelling* Give our brother a boost... *Seraphim reached up and grabbed onto Abaddon's hands, holding them fast against his own shoulders as he held the Beasts's gaze, his genetics dancing rings around the attempts to make him merely mortal. True, every now and then his body passed through the 'just' mortal phase, but it was impossible to command the combined BASIC genetics to be other than what they were - Seraphim had been born perfectly naturally to a man and a woman after all. It just who they WERE that made the difference. Living or dead, it didnt make much odds to him, he consistantly swung back to a happy medium, meaning only small portions of his body at a time could be affected. In the mean time, Widw gladly channelled extra strength and energy into Corbin, the combined vitae of all the Blazeheart pack at his disposal. The amounts garned were so much that a mere SIDEEFFECT was the raising of any and all dead in the immediate area, above AND below ground, under Widow's direct will and control. Moving softly to Corbin's side, skirting her packmate, Widow murmured to Corbin in a lilting voice* Temptation works for him... he isnt the hardhitter you are. Think fast while he keeps the Devourer distracted. OOC:: Ok i've procrastinated enough and made everyone waiting on this wait far too long so I'm going to put an end to this now. Roan? I hope you dont mind if I GM a little for this purpose. _______________________ Corbin's eyes would fire open as Widow started to channel into him, boosting him. an aura like indigo mist with sporadic patterns of luminacy scattered through it rose up from Ego's four scarlet eyes, the mist funneling as it passed through the broken halo over his mane.
He saw Seraphim testing Abaddon, holding him and gnashed his teeth, rows and rows of canines grinding as he snarled.
"We can't win like this...."
And as the Diablerist Syn said those words, Abaddon only grinned wider at Seraphim's apparent self sacrifice, as he put every last ounce of Potence into his grip, both crushing Seraphim's shoulders and pushing him down to his knees at the same time. Abaddon then flesh crafted his palms to form smaller versions of the massive cannibalistic maw he nearly cleaved his entire head in half with.
Before any of the three jaws could take a bite however, Corbin appeared just off to the side of the pair on Seraphim's right side and with a myriad of disciplines attacked with frightening speed, precision and power as he slashed with a sealed sword straight through Abaddon's elbows, and as the diagonal slash continued downward and onward, cleaved straight through the monster's pelvic.
Rotating on his heels to continue the motion and return on target, Corbin released the seal on the sword he held, and as the katana was rolled into a reversed grip, kissaki sweeping around perfectly horizontal, it was instead the dual tips of Ansuz that were driven into Abaddon's chest through flesh, muscles and bone to catch the spine in the apex of the open scissor like form of the blade.
Corbin would then activate the first stage of ascension in the sword as its gleaming metalic surface took on a much more intangibal, cloudy sky like reflection, and the blade passed clear through the dicected beast harmlessly. Completely as Corbin sprinted by, left hand clutching a handfull of his hair in passing to take with him the upper body of his foe and with all his might smash it into the wall across the room.
Stunned, though not nearly as harmed as he appeared to be, Abaddon roared in anger after he was pulled away from being so close to devouring yet another self. His severed portions would morph to pools of blood that gave chase, in attempt to reconnect with his torso, as Corbin glared down at the head he held against the wall.
"Your over confidence will be your downfall."
As Abbadon's limbs regenerated, and his newly reformed right claws took a lightning fast wrap around Corbin's throat, Ego focused entirey on his next move, as the others would no doubt be right behind him.
TEMPORIS GATE!
A combination of Corbin's ability to open realm portals, and the Temporis discipline would fill the area with a blinding flash of indigo light and as it faded, the pair of them were gone. Both Abaddon and Corbin along with a cleanly removed dome of the wall and floor where they stood was removed completely from both this plane, and the natural flow of time.
Should the others make an attempt to follow, they would find this an impossible task. For a start, Corbin was useing Obfuscating techniques, combined with other such skills as trackless waste, and on top of that, even if the others could discenr which realm they had been taken to, the pair of them were still outisde of the natural flow of time.
The most imposing reason however was that they simply wouldn't have the time, as would soon enough become abundantly clear.
Meanwhile however, Corbin and Abaddon appeared along with the wall, and small section of debris coated floor they had been surrounded by in a region lost in time. Surrounded by mountains in all directions and the terrain they stood amidst itself, far from an open plane. Spires towered over head all around them decorated with the corpses of warriors, kings and peasants alike. Cainites, kine, demons and celestians abound as far as the eye could see. they were the fallen. Those who this domain's master called his foes. His felled. His familiars. And with his arrival the dead would stir with tormented groans of never ending agony and suffering unlike anything concieved by Bram Stoker.
Behind Abaddon and some distance down the hills and valleys lay the town, small and poor as its villagers toiled in midevil circumstances though the town was dwarfed and easily forgotten as in the eyes of the monster, the ancient castle behind Corbin was brought to life by the fearsome storm brewing as in all the old horror films, and as his grip on Corbin's throat tightened, he watched in awe as this place unknown to him came to unlife, as Corbin cackled madly.
"Dont recognise this place?... You wouldn't."
With a grimace at the pressure around his spine Corbin thrust his sword down on Abaddon's left knee catching the joint in that menacing scissor apex to amputate, and throw the world eater off balance.
Corbin would take this oppertunity to skip backwards a few paces in a celerity dash before falling to a knee, his free hand coming to sooth his throat with gentle strokes, as he continued.
"There was not one of us here for your gluttony to seek out so you never had the drive to feast here. This is MY realm. This is where I was BORN!"
As Abaddon mended his amputaited limb with little effort, and both stood, eyes locked, forces and spirit meeting half way, Corbin concluded the revelation.
"And this is where I will remain, once you join my horde. My world of Familiars."
Lighting frenzied above as the heavens opened and the landscape was obfuscated in heavy, pounding rain to reveal the endless amount of blood soaked into the flood stricken soil.
"You thought you could surpass me with the help of the other, and you were wrong then. NOW you believe you can devour, and dominate me completely alone?! You're blood is deranged, Corbin. Only in my hands can it serve a full potential. Surrender to me, and become a part of that which you yourSELF, have always wanted to be. A GOD!"
Setting the scissor end of his battle blade in the shifting water logged soil and resting his right palm on the jeweled pummel, Corbin would offer Abaddon only a smirk, moments before a light hearted, unflinching chuckle.
"You're no god, Abaddon. Nor will you ever be. I, may yet become one after you surrender to ME, but even then I will never reign. Should one such as you, or I combined ever feast upon the sole survivor, Seraphim, then it will mark the end of days. Armageddon. Ragnarok. And amidst these horrors, the blades will be broken, and the Daemon's will be free. Zachriedek, Azrael, Iden... Roan.... I will not see these things come to pass, Destroyer, and I certainly will not be a part of unleashing it. The Ortus, is the manifestation of this. And the Ortus, will be its key, LOST, in this place for all eternity. With my fading from everything with you it shall all become linear."
Abaddon stood for a moment, his expression granit as he processed everything Corbin had said, and it all settled in. Corbin's goal, was to remove the threat of not only the one theory, but further more.... he thought it would eliminate the wheel, and the inevitability of the Daemon's being released. He thought he could cast the end of days into the abyss forever.
Abaddon's eyes widened as the revelation came to him, and he spoke for the first time, ever, as if humbled.
"You... Would be god..."
Corbin said nothing, only leered across the field at Abaddon through the monsoon with a superior smirk, nothing else about his body moving. Changing, telling. He stood there assured. He stood there as Pride.
"I will be THE god! NOT YOU!"
And with a roar that belittled even the raging thunder all around them, Abaddon raced forward, his body vanishing from place to place, timeline to timeline like a laggy net connection till he stood infront of Corbin and with a mighty clentched right hand his fist was driven into Corbin's nose, shattering bone and fissuring flesh and muscle, sending Pride sailing through the air into a raised mass of the land where he was buried in water logged soil and brittle stone, leaving Ansuz where it had been set, for the world eater to take hold.
"You have assured my seat in godhood by sacrificing yourself like this, worm. And the moment your deranged blood touches my tongue you will know what it is to be a part of something absolute. Then, I will return to complete myself with Seraphim. With you assimilaited, the rest will be nothing but fodder."
Abaddon then started the stalk forward, approaching the mound Corbin was burried under with Ansuz in hand still in the first stage of release.
"You.... Are partially right, Abaddon..."
Corbin emmerged from the mud, skull gradually mending and his face being washed of the blood that caked his still faithful expression.
"Then devour me, if you can!"
Corbin's slack, loose form sudenly errupted with taut energy as his body bulked and his eyes returned to 'normal', before then shifting into two lit orbs of flourishing cerulean power. Ivory light surrounding him, sizzling as it chewed at his flesh and ate away at his everything, physical and otherwise.
"SACRIFICE THE MARTYR!"
This, was to be more alike Narok's rendition of the technique, rather than Fenrir's, as Corbin's physical body was transformed into a body of celestian light, and he with every last effort, rushed the world eater, who had plans of his own as far as this would go.
Abaddon clutched the hilt of Ansuz and took a long, left foot forward stance with an extremely low center of gravity, blade held parallel with the muddy ground, left hand held out open before himself as he gave an avalanche reversing roar, and the final two stages of ascension were unlocked in the sword, unlocking the full release, as Nidhogg's eye appeared in the reflection of the steel.
Abaddon then raced forward to meet his foe.
The collision was spectacular. Earth shattering as the entire realm felt it. An explosion of pure force of blinding energy flooded over the mountains and the storm clouds above parted, an eye formeing in the storm as wide as the region.
Gradually the light would fade as the clear night sky above in the eye of the storm basked the castle and its region in the full moons glow.
There the pair stood, Corbin's claws embedded in Abaddon's throat right through to the spine, and in the chest cavity. Abaddon's left hand filled with silver hair, pulling Corbin's head back as the fully released blade Ansuz penetraited his chest, uneven apex of the one sided scisson end caught on the bone cage around Roan's heart, and his maw burried into Corbin's throat.
Corbin's eyes lay open wide, though weak as every last part of the Blazeheart technique was focused around Roan's heart to protect it. This, had left Corbin wide open for the bite.
Abaddon snarled viciously as he ripped at the tissue and bone in Corbin's neck, opening only slightly to bite further, deeper, before he grinned madly, a gagged laughter echoing through the terrain.
Corbin however, said nothing as he spewed a mouthfull of blood into the air, the link with Roan now being opened. A direct line between the pair through both their original uncanny link, the heart in his chest, and their seperate Ortus. She would see. She would hear. She would FEEL, that which Corbin did.
.::" You have fallen, proud DeSeer Prince! Alike the countless before you, and the final will after you. You have been defeated!... And all because of your sentiment, Your carless abbandon for yourself in order to protect your sire."::.
As Abaddon would begin the almost instantaneous drainign of Pride, the victim would only smirk through the blood that caked his features, despite the agony.
.::" My mind. Her mind. OUR WILL, is absolute, monster. ROAN! Accept this and believe in this! Make our insurmountable will ONE! And have faith in me.... "::.
And then, the world faded for Corbin. Everything faded, as the unlife left him with his blood, yet Roan's heart remained untouched, seperate from the rest of him within the dried out husk that was Pride's remains, cast aside by the world eater to turn to ashes, leaving only the bone casing and the heart within.
Should Roan break away from Corbin's last wishes, then all was lost. Abaddon would return to devour the last, and accomplish his goal. However, should she abide, then the outcome would be very different.
Time had been interrupted, and as afore stated, Seraphim and the others would have no time to react. For them, there was barely the time to assume what had happened before Abaddon stood once more before them in the very spot he had vanished from.
He had returned, Ansuz in hand, Corbin's blood still smeared across his face, his wide, terrifying grin.
"Now, I complete my mission. With the last, I shall take my seat, as GOD!"
As Abaddon threw his head back in manic laughter, power cracking around him enough to cripple all before him however, his body grew taut, and then froze.
Unable to move a single muscle he struggled in confusion and rage, managing only to have his muscles tremble.
"Wha-what is this?!"
.::" This, is the will of the clan. "::.
Abaddon's eyes widened as he heard Corbin's voice in the very ends of his mind echoing through his entire being, blood, bone and soul.
"HOW?!"
.::" Our will, is absolute, Abaddon. Your body has absolute power, and your blood the diversity of all the worlds... But your will, is an ant. A meer babe, before the will of the DeSeers. You ate me..... but I, will devour YOU. "::.
Abbadon would then, before Seraphim and the others spasm, his entire body ate war with itself as he crashed down to his knees, unable to open his jaws to allow a proper vent for the roar manifesting for all those before him the indescribable agony he suffered, as his body started to devour itself, and Corbin's mind, his will was pushed gradually to the fore-front, walking over Abaddon's will and mind in heavy spiked boots.
Through Abaddon's only slightly relieved lips, then came Corbin's voice.
"I hav seen madness, and have taken it into myself. I have lived with voices so numerous and remained the general ofthe army that is my blood. You have never felt the pangs of another fighting for dominance in your own mind, Abaddon."
"And that is why your entirety, Cainite, is MINE"
"And ours..."
"And therefore... Mine."
Beings within flooded the body, consuming every last atom that was Abaddon and making them there own, as the last spark that was Abaddon started to fade, he knew where he had failed. This, was originally CORBIN'S body. He could never have won.
And so finaly, that last speck that was the world eater, died. Gone forever from existance as it was transformed, and the physical body before Seraphim, fell forward onto its hands, head hung.
"I am DeSeer...... I am, God."
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Corbin DeSeer Vice Captain
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Posted: Mon Apr 13, 2009 10:51 pm
((*falls over in shock* A post! Mein gott! xd Will have to read it when I get in, and Im sure I wont mind mate smile ))
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Posted: Tue Apr 14, 2009 9:38 am
((Und now... a reply!))
*Durem was in ruins. Well.. that is to say, its streets were, though strangely every building stood unmarked.
Darkness pooled from alleys, blood painted the pavements and roads. It was as if some awful bio weapon had been unleashed. From the bodies that littered the floor - human, animal, supernatural alike - one almost expected twitching to occur an dthe residents to rise as zombies. Only birds remained, cawing and fighting over the eyeballs of the fallen.
Fighting. The memory of fighting.
The cause of the carnage WAS a bio weapon, in some ways. Walking calmly amid the ruins of her own choosing, stepping on body after body, lain almost strewn and prostrate in her path, Roan DeSeer, Goddess of War, stalked her domain.
She was unarmed, and doing NOTHING to harm the people ahead, still ion battle but... it was her aura, her very presence that was causing this madness. To come within a mile of her was to feel the awful desires of a berserker. To come within half a mile was to suddenly wish to please and praise this god in female form, to offer up the best one could to her as she moved among them, awful and deadly, yet somehow beautifu as blood as red as her hair streaked across her face as offerings were made.
Like Caine before God, the kine and cainite population aliek offered up the hearts of their nearest and dearest to her, only to be crushed by those behind them also wishing to touch her.
She smiled, and walked on, stepping on still-warm body after still warm body, waiting for somoene to prevail.
And so it would have continued until no one was left, save for what happened as she drew level with Iden's tavern. Sparing a few seconds to look at the building, she cringed as the pain of his passing finally got through to her, drawiong twin tears of blood from her eyes. They did not last however as the fighting around her intesified, drawing her back to observe it. She cocke dhe rhead as she realised someone was fighting their way through the ranks of brawlers, unaffected by her aura, cleaving a path.
A sword, longer than most, flickered, sprays of red blood and flashes of silver spiralling in the dark night. She actually stopped walking to watch. The man weilding the blade had incredible skill. Faced with innumerable foes in his way, he spun like a dervish between those who would try to engage him, taking an arm here, a leg there with a single stride and swipe, his pirouttes bringing him constantly back to face her, closer with each felled victim.
Idly, she extended a thought. No longer did the berserker hordes fight each other for her favour, they ALL turned on him for her pleasure. She smiled faintly as suddenly innumerable bovine masses became innumerable snarling lions, actually attacking HIM.
It made no differance. The man sped up, dancing in every sense, his sword an extension of his arm, humming as it whined through his foes. Only when he felled the five around him in one fell sweep, opening the space around him for a few seconds, did she realise he was familiar. Two dark wings, as black as the encroaching night, dealt savage blows to any who came at his back, the audible snap of limbs easy to hear even at her distance. Slowly, her eyes widened as she watched NArok - for who else? - cut his way towards her, massacring her mindless drone army with JUST his sword, no other skill involved. Faint memory reminded her he could have blown them all away with one sweep, yet... he seemed to understand what he was facing, and that she would find this display more alluring than a display of mere power*
Narok....
*A path opened up between them, a mere flicker of her will sending her 'subjects' to their knees, clutching at bleeding ears and noses, allowing her space to walk over them to her husband*
Roan.
Not Roan... goddezzz...
Worzhip her...
*poking their heads out from behind Roan's legs, Brutus and Bub added their leering grins to the scene, only to be cuffed and shoved back by Roan herself*
No. Not him. NO man forces HIM to his knees....
Except for you, right?
Me?
You chained me up for years my love... years hanging weary to the bone from chains in a room barely bigger than a cell, watching sane from behind the influences gripping me, watching you take pleasure in keeping me alive....
Narok...
Its ok. I forgive you. I love you too.
*The Goddess blinked. This... was bizarre. Memories, normal memories but from TWO people, were flickering inside he rhead. The memories of b***h, with this bewinged Narok, plus the memories of Roan, seeing her NArok die... twice no less. It hurt. She screamed, and her pain slit the skulls of all those nearest her, though the power breezed around Narok like he was a rock in a storm.*
Its no good losing your temper, Roan.
*he held his hand out to her, and she actually shied away, a brief flicker of fear riding through her eyes*
Its ok. Trust me, Goddess... to me, you will always be a god. Trust me as BOTH of you always have...
....yes....
*Tentatively, she reached out, almost as if afraid of what would happen when their bloodied hands met. The short time it took her to take his hand seemed like an eternity as she stared at the blood on both of them, puzzled and compelled by it until her ulse raced, adrenaline flooding her in fight or flight mode, but she didnt know why.
She took his hand.
There was a burst of raw power, enough that it rocketed out from them both, felling any within the city who still stood out in its streets, blood surging and spiralling all through the city, rising and moving towards the pair stood in the city center, just outside the Von Helson manor. Roan's eyes became blood red pools from side to side, her mouth open in a silent cry, though whether of pleasure or pain was unclear*
Come.... remember who you truly are my love. So much you made me realise... so much to think on while you held me captive, and to compare when you brought me here and consumed MY lifemate.
So... much...
Always. How could I have known how different you and b***h could be? She who was my all, mother to my childer, lover to my dangerously insane form, she who would have killed the entire world if it would have cured me... and yet she was not strong. Leaving her guile to Discplines, using power and fear alone. You do not.
I dont?
No. You are not b***h. She remains awake within you, but it cannot remain so. You are Roan DeSeer, Vengeance, Matriarch, Mistress... but you are nobodies b***h.
I... remember... NO! Dont... please dont Narok...
My death in this realm was for its own reasons... and for the best. I have met the Corbin you took in. I am proud of my Seraphim, but his values are... insular? You have created, alone, something I can barely comprehend. It shines, even when there is tragedy.
Tragedy that started with YOU. You were the first honourable man I had fought in decades.... you who understood.
The law of the battlefield ALSO incorporates kill or be killed my love...
I... would undo it if I could. For you. For Corbin.
And for yourself. The pain in your soul makes no sense. It should never have hit you that hard.
You were his father. And he became my son. My sons are my life. How could I have refused to accept the scar of your passing?
And that is why you must BE Vengeance, and not b***h. you must let her go. Stop this madness.
Madness?
Look around you! Look at what you have done! Think of the son you have LOST because of war!
I....
*She looked stricken, panicked almost. She clutched nto Narok with both hands, eyes fading back to their normal red pupils, her lower lip clamped between her fangs as the full weight of Iden... and the hole where he should be... hit her. She screamed with agony, dropping limp to the floor, barely keeping hold of Narok's arms as he dropped with her, then pulled her into his embrace, wings sheltering her from the world as she wet, words of self blame and terrible, heart rending sorrow spilling franticly from her lips between sobs. Iden was gone. Her son was dead, and nothing she did would bring him back. It was her fault. Her fault for not being there, for not saving him.
Narok held her until it passed, and hten... he hit her. It was not a gentle blow. She flew backwards, jaw broken, crashing into the wall of the building opposite hard enough her ribs shattered, the back of her skull breaking as her head flew back and impacted too, leaving her limp and bloody on the floor.
Narok walked towards her... then caught her wrists as she suddenlyw as up and flew at him, claws out and fangs extended*
Better. You do not suit self sorrow. Look where THAT has gotten you. You ARE anger my love... place your anger in what has happened and do not allow your family to be harmed again. Keep that anger close in your heart... and look at what you have done to every family in Durem this night.
*He stepped aside and let Roan - for it WAS her now - gaze at the carnage she had inspired. It was almost audible as her human limiters SMASHED back into place, banishing the Goddess, sealing away that power which shoudl never have been unleashed, let alone touched.*
I... oh my god... what have I done?
Something b***h would have, but you would not. You are NOT her, and this... is not her life.
I... how can I fix this?!
We will fix it together, but we MUST put this realm back to how it SHOULD be.
What?
Corbin and Seraphim currently face Abaddon in battle. You are of no use to your heir if you cannot think clearly... or tell right from wrong.
This is abhorrent... this is SLAUGHTER...
Yes, and YOUR Narok would NEVER have tolerated it.
...no. He wouldnt.
*She seemed on the verge of tears again, but Narok only had to squeeze her arm lightly and the anger was back. She nodded to him gratefully and took a deep breath.*
My Shrine is still tainted... I can still feel it...
Yes. And you must learn to live wth it. With what you are.
And what am I?
A fine woman. We must fix this.
How?
By making this realm right.
I dont... oh no! NO! NO NO NO! You are NOT leaving me AGAIN!
I must. I am not your Narok, nor have I ever been. b***h and I were both sick... sick inside where it cannot be fixed. You have liberated us both, and now I will repay your kindness.
NO!
There is but one thing I would ask...
NO! Dont you dare! Dont you ******** dare do this to me! I cant do this again! I cant!
*Tears streamed down her face, her claws biting into his arms as she shook her head over and over, KNOWING what he would say*
Roan. Take care of my son for me, alright? Look after him.
I... DAMMNIT NAROK!
Will you take care of him for me?
Of COURSE I will! You b*****d!
*She wept, openly wept, until his hand gently lifted her chin. Looking into those too familiar eyes, she shivered*
Be strong. There are many worlds but only one afterlife. We WILL meet again. And I will be EVERY Narok just for you.
I love you.
And I you.
*He kissed her, and the world went white.
No one would remember quite what happened that night. Some would claim to dream of an angel, his white wings stretching to the horizon, others would claim to have had a nightmare of a devil in red, carrying the skulls of their children. Others woke as if they'd had a heart attack, yet more woke with faces built of bliss. For every person fallen or wounded, Narok gave of his life to put things right. Immortalised in paintings and music made by those of artistic bent he healed, Narok would haunt Roan more than ever in the years to come. He left but a whisper in her empty arms, a promise of success.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
When Corbin's need came, when he reached through the link, Roan was there. She lifted her head from where she sat, and listened to his need. Nodding, she opened the link FULL force. She let him see where she sat - at Narok's 'grave' where they had fought against Surt - and then... she ALSO let him feel the force of love both she AND his father had always had for him. There was a deep well of sorrow in her as she opened to him, the combined sorrows of Narok and Iden, but it was FAR overshadowed by her love and ABSOLUTE faith in both him, and her entire family. Though she wept, she did not weep in vain. Her tears were of happiness and fond memories as she gave Corbin the support he needed. On the floor of his home realm, her heart glowed almost fit to burst, energy heating the bone casing around it to melting point.*
I have ALWAYS had faith in you, my son. As I do now. This... INSECT... is as nothing before your will. Take what you need from me, and I give it willingly so you may take back what is yours. Weild the weapon no man can stand against. You have my allegiance.
*She smiled as the link changed, melding their willpower into one. She felt Pride... CORBIN... rising through the iron block that was Abaddon, breaking him down and subsuming him. She closed her eyes as she even felt the other finally snuffed out, like a bad dream in the light of the sun*
You carry the memory of a god among men within you, how could you NOT follow him and become such yourself? You are a God Corbin. Let your enemies fall before you and your faithful bask in the warmth of your protection. Yes, you have my allegiance, Corbin... my allegiance, my love and my faith. Welcome home, Lord DeSeer.
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Posted: Tue Apr 14, 2009 10:58 am
Sieg's king was toppled in a fairly clever ruse. The Nosferatu he played with was a sly one, and her ploys on the board were well enough veiled that Sieg never could counter fully. He did not complain as his defeat was pronounced. Instead, he congradulated Jess on a good game, and kindly reset the board.
Then the legless Ventrue took Jess' place. Taz bore a stern demeanor, perhaps from the still-sore stump.
Up fer another go?
The old Gangrel nodded, and offered Taz the option of color. Taz took white, and began with a shifting of his knight. As the minutes passed, the Ventrue proved a far more aggressive player than his female friend. His gambits were often straightforward, but well supported and powerful. Sieg was better suited to engaging in this sort of game.
As they played, conversation once again broke out between the players. As Taz brushed aside a pawn with his knight, he broke into politics. While his chess game was straightforward, his wordplay was more sly. He was prodding at Sieg, trying to gain an appreciation of the Gangrel's ideals. Sieg saw this, but he did not mind. He matched Taz's words evenly and gave straightforward answers. In exchange, the Gangrel asked little, beyond a bit about who Taz was. He was curious to hear the story about the ex-marine. The man had served in the Korean War. He had been under the famous Chesty Puller for a while, even. But a potentially mortal wound saw him shipped home, where he had been forced to spend months in a hospital. It had bred a distinct distrust of the Chinese into his mind, as it had been a communist's bullet that had seen him crippled for so long. But, when he had recovered, Taz had been glad to return to a normal life. Until, of course, he had met his Sire, and a short year afterward, recieved the Embrace.
To make the long story short, Taz had joined in with the Anarch movement just prior to the push that broke into the revolution. He had seen the birth of the free state, and the fall. Taking it as a personal slight, Taz and many like minded individuals had sworn first of all to purge those who turned to the Cathayans. Secondly, the legless Ventrue wanted to recreate the free state. He still believed it could function, if only it had the leadership it needed.
When faced with these strong ideals, Sieg fell quiet. Finishing the game with a close call, the Gangrel slid his chair back and nodded in respect to his opponent.
So, Siegfried. Y' still haven't said anything about what you're going to do while you're here.
That, mein gutes Herr, ist because I do not know vhat I shall be doing. I vill not go back, though. I cannot return to the Camarilla in good consience.
Taz chuckled softly at this, and slid back in his seat.
Ain't that the truth. I ain't gonna ask, but at least you didn't go off to the freakshow south of th' border. Tell you what. Do me a favor, and maybe I can get you in with the rest of the militia? Big Mac....yes, I'm not kidding, that's what we call the fast b*****d...is having a gig at the warehouse district a little ways away. Good place to get to know everybody. Prolly 'cus somebody's gonna try and crash the party, and a good straight up fight to remind the ******** that we aren't just a bunch of ******** sheep is always fun, y'know?
Sieg's eyebrows lifted. Lightly, he scratched at the unkempt scruff along his jaw.
A favor? Depends on the favor. Vhat is it you need?
The Ventrue broke into an open grin as Sieg asked. He straightened the cap worn over his bald head, and nodded.
Alright, boyo, here's the digs. I know a Tzimisce, we call 'im Karl. He owes me a favor, and I want my leg back. Yes, he's Sabbat. That's the favor, I'm taking a coupla guys with me to make sure he doesn't try s**t. That, and ******** all if it'll suck if that b*****d Theo's goons show up while we're talking to the clankers.
Unfamiliar with some of the slang beign used, Sieg followed along at a sketchy pace. He understood that Taz wanted him to come as a bit of extra muscle. Beyond that, he just accepted it as regional dialect. ******** if he was bothered.
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Posted: Tue Apr 14, 2009 1:24 pm
*Sera gulped He shoudl have seen the hand thing coming. Two seconds to make a decision... and Corbin made it for him in 1 second flat, saving the effiminate clone from a ratehr painful and gory fate.
Sera rolled smoothly backwards as if every muscle in his legs WASNt half ripped from Abaddons excessive force and came back to his feet with some distance from the fighting, resting back against Widow as she came to his back and wrapped her arms around his chest, residual energy roaring into him enough to make him moan softly. His eyes were purple fire when he reoepend them, just in time to see Abaddon and Corbin vanish*
CORBIN!
Now what do we do?
... we have faith. Bring the dead to me.
....
Do it, Widow.
You've been holding it ready this whole time, havent you?
Yes.
*Seraphim focused for a few seconds, then opened his hand. Black and purple fire poured off a small indistinct globe in his fist. For now, it was but a tiny charge, but fed with any of his energy and it unlocked the one power Seraphim NEVER wanted to use ever again. He closed his fist and looked up. The dead surrounded him. Reaching out with one hand... Seraphim took their unlives, sapping EVERY bit of energy, every scrap of dark magic from them, leaving just a pile of mush on the floor. Sighing, he fought the battle he had ALWAYS fought - NOT to pur that energy into the route his being urged him to do. Instead, he tucked the energy away inside, ready for one of two choices when either Corbin, or Abaddon, came back.
Half way through the channelling, and maybe because of it.... Seraphim felt Alpha die*
FATHER!
ALPHA!
*Both cried out in unison. Behind them, the blood on the floor began to coagulate, then rise, taking on ashen looking forms - the pack, reassembled. Thought it shudl have been bvious, right now it was impossible to tell if they looked so awful because of the blood loss, or because of Alpha's death. Widow openly wept, turning into Cerberus for comfort, 'Zach', 'Az' and 'Dagoth' simply laying hands on each others shoulders in support.
Seraphim stood alone and unresponsive, looking like a mere feather could beat him down. Stricken, was the closest word.*
.: The Lady DeSeer will care for you, come what may. Follow her word. Help her survive what has to come :.
.: Father... you cant leave us... you cant! :.
.: You will survive, and its finally my time. Im tired son.. let me rest :.
*Bowing his head, Seraphim ground his teeth together... and felt the spirit slip away. A single tear stained his cheek, fist shaking as he tried not to scream.
And then Abaddon was back. Seraphim looked up with a growl, absolute FURY erupting from him, the globe in his fist suddenly fluid red with power as he started to unlock his brithright - the Antichrist.*
This ******** realm has taken EVERYTHING from me! Now its MY tur....
SERAPHIM.
....
*The world held its breath for 20 seconds as Seraphim hovered between choices. Staring Abaddon down... first it was his family at his back that stalled him, and then... something in the Devourers eyes. Slowly... Sera eased down. He, alike the rest of his kin watched in fascination, then admiration, then horror as Corbin totally subsumed the World Eater from the inside out. It was frightening, at the very least*
What are...
A God.
A God.
A God.
*Seraphim walked woodenly forwards after Corbin was done, reaching out towards his twin with one hand, only to find Cerberus in the way*
Dont. Touch. Him.
I...
No. There is but you and he now. The temptation will be too great for one of you. Back away.
Last I recalled I was the boss, not you...
Dont make me prove my point Seraphim... its not like you to argue like this. Not with one of us.
...you're right. Corbin. You ok?
...and where is the artefact?
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Corbin DeSeer Vice Captain
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Posted: Thu Apr 16, 2009 9:36 am
Humbled by himself Corbin rested there on his hands and knees, his every breath laboured, powerful, meaningful, as if each one was the last breath of the world around them as they echoed hauntingly in the silence of the battlefield laid to waste. The stench of rotten, vile tainted blood flourished as the Diablerist radiated with anger, malice, destructive intent, passion and famine.
To stand in his presence, was to feel empty, starved and yet. Fuller than every before. The hormonal aura that surrounded him before, was now a planets gravity, drawing all to him with lust, passion and awe.
The ghosts of serpents writhed around him in frenzy as his pulverising aura, Mucalinda and Karkotaka like splotching of ink in the air as they swam through reality, sewing themselves around the new world eater.
Corbin, now had that which he had always craved, and this became abundantly clear as he slowly rose back from his hands, then up from his knees with a distant, disembodied vicious snarl surrounding him. Finally, he lifted his brow, and as he did, the Hellbane markings spontaniously flared up all over his body in almost maori fashion, and he opened his eyes. Pure vitae. Not a reflection of it, like under the influence of Magra, but rather orbits formed of vitae completely, gleaming in his decadence. He posessed every known discipline. Corbin had become the Cainite oracle. An encyclopedia of the races heritage from all corners. He had surpassed the title of Antediluvian. He had surpassed La Magra. He had become the new god of blood.
With saber fangs permanant down an inch past his chin, Magra's maw in constance now, Corbin lowered his gaze to Seraphim and the others, for what seemed like an eternity saying nothing. Finally however, he would spear Ansuz into the debri at his own feet, and with a voice that worked beyond the concievable senses, would no doubt rippen mortal terror in the hearts of the Blazehearts.
"I can taste your blood, as if I drink of it this very moment.... I can see your blood lines before you to the very beginning.... I see your pasts, and your futures, all possible futures for each of you.... I..."
Slowly, Corbin would raise a lilting hand from the pummel of his sword, after images in the wake of his every movement despite his sluggish actions. He would leer down into his own palm, musing aloud, as he came to grips with what he had become.
"...I could incinerate your hearts within each of you, with a wave of my hand...."
Corbin's eyes alone then rolled to focus once more upon Seraphim, the leer like death's own chilling promise.
"Cerberus is right. Who knows what will happen in the very next moment. This, brother, is something that can never be predictable. I could lose my self between breaths, so I must be quick."
Turning his wrist to expose his palm, Corbin's fingers would curl around meer air one moment, and the next, Roan's heart still encased in bone. He would offer the heart over to Cerberus however, not wanting to come even an inch closer to the last piece of his puzzle.
"This, must never be within my reach ever again, she needs this to remind her. She needs her humanity so as to not end up this way. And as poultry as it is, in stead of two lost sons, I want you to give her my sword.... Should she ever need me. Should the time come that she have no where else to turn, she can call on me, and I will come."
Corbin had no time to waste in his mind, he simply couldn't trust himself, having tasted this to not consume Seraphim whole where he stood.
So he would step back, walking backwards as he took from his left hand both the silver bracelet, and gold ring he wore, both vanishing as he started to fade.
"Seraphim..... Do not look for me. That, is the only warning you will ever get. Make sure Roan, and the others understand the same."
And with those last few words, Corbin was gone. Simply gone, leaving not a trace to be tracked as he returned to his native realm, where he would seal himself away in the deepest bowels of that castle, lock himself away in a tomb guarded by his most horrific creations, a world of familiars and succumb to Torpor, trapped by his own power and pinned with every blade he had accumulated in his unlife, aside from Ansuz, which was now Roan's to do with what she would.
Corbin, was gone.
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Posted: Thu Apr 16, 2009 10:48 am
.: Oh no you dont. :.
*Just before he left, it was like something stinging between his eyes. A visage, a face, a smile*
.: You dont get to run away and hide all alone. I promised your father. I promised. :.
*Then, all communication was lost as he stepped to a place she could not go but... she didnt leave him. True, she could not call to him, could not feel the depth of his being as she had grown so accustomed to but... somewhere, somewhere deep inside his mind, some tiny piece of her held on with a DEATH grip to his being, keeping the thinnest, tiniest thread of connection open, even through the measures he would go on to use on himself. She always had, after all, had the greatest willpower in the WORLD. And the two had alwasys had an uncanny pull on each other.
She accepted what he did, and the why... and wept tears of sorrow and joy for him as well as his father.
Beckoning with her mind alone, she drew the broken and deeply scarred Balzeheart pack to herself, bringing them to their new home, where the entire cycle of training, acceptance, respect, power and will could begin again. Inside, she knew she was not strong enough to do it all again, but she knew she could do the bits that mattered most. Her own time was coming, and she had mere months to set up the systems to follow her OWN course of action.
Despite it all, with Iden dead, Dagoth gone and Corbin sealed away, the Lady DeSeer was once again alone. Seated by Narok's remains, as Corbin vanished form her radar, a deep, trembling sorrow settled heavily on her shoulders. She was alone. Alone once more. The promise of Never Walk Alone was gone, and all her stability with it. A time bomb deep inside her started to tick. She knew her time was limited now. Knew that even with new members to care for, it woudlnt be enough to stop the inevitable end that now came charging forwards. Alone. How she hated that word. How she hated always carrying on after everyone else got their final rest. The fight was going out of her. But she wouldnt give up and roll over.
No. She knew what she must do. She had but a few weeks, if that, of sanity left to her, and things to put in place before she followed the destiny written for her 600 years ago. A destiny... she had accepted before her death, and planned towards for centuries. Taking wing, she went home. It was to be fo rthe last time.*
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Posted: Thu Apr 16, 2009 12:00 pm
Sieg's mouth had opened to speak. The acceptance was on his lips, his tongue was about to give oath that he would go with the Ventrue, to assist in this venture.
But the words never came.
Sieg's brow furrowed with intense worry. It drew the attention of his potential employer.
Siegfried? You okay man? Hey. HEY. Snap out of it.
Mein Gott in Himmel...
The words of his host did not reach the Gangrel's ears. With a sharp shift, the chair was slid back and he was on his feet.
Mein gutes herr, you have been good to me. I swear, barring passage to the gates of hell itself, I will give you mein aid. But I must go. I have tarried too long in this place.
Taz stood in a state of clear confusion. Though he lifted his hand and spoke in protest, Sieg heard not a word. Nor did Jess' silent questions turn his gaze. He would not be stopped as he left the safehouse, and soon was sprinting as fast as his legs would carry. It was as if the very hounds of hell were clawing at his ankles, he ran with such blind fervor.
On the streets, he staggered. His gloved hands were clutching at the sides of his skull. The bandana that held his unkempt mane at bay was tightly grasped in his fingers. The red cloth seemed to soak into a slightly darker shade...
:: And what is it you are doing, little beast? ::
:: What needs be done. ::
:: And our deal? You would so callously throw aside your oath? ::
:: Times have changed! I can't! ::
:: That changes nothing, little beast. Your word is binding. You will do as you promised. ::
:: I will...when this is DONE! Begone, if you will not aid me! ::
:: Only a deluded mind would think me ever gone... ::
:: Then be SILENT! ::
The sudden burst of will drove back the predatory claws that were beginning to grasp at the back of Siegfried's mind. He was still running....
A car. Glass shattered, and wires twisted. The engine purred, then roared. Momentum. Heedless of the limits, the tattered gloves gripped the wheel with skill that should have never been known to them.
Fumbling. A phone. Thoughts weren't straight...the number was dialed, but it was all by the muscle memories of thumbed that should never have known it. Ringing...twice. Then a voice, deep, masculine. He answered, and a mellow bass responded. Desperation. Questions rose, suspicious words were thrown. Calmer tones replied, and a phrase was uttered. Silence. Acknowledgement. The phone call ended shortly thereafter. It was all ready.
Sirens began to flash. It meant nothing, the car was empty now. The driver had taken to running once again. His hands clutched at his head from time to time. But still he ran. Another car, more miles to go. He had to flee, to run for his goal. Nothing would stop him, even the predator that threatened to destroy him from within. Attention may be gathered, but it mattered little. Nothing would stop what was coming.
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