| Logs |
2009 May 24
| When The Bough Breaks |
| Realms |
Retired
| Reality Fault |
General Info
 |
| Realms: Bough Logs |
Third Movement, Seventh Verse
Janiel straightens, folding her arms as she studies Mikal. She half-glances at the memorial with the circle of salt around it. "Very well," she says at last. "I come in peace; ours were not the only one fallen here. I care not if others wish to pay respects to the rakshasa."Jareth nods slowly, letting out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. Usually, he's the better one with people, but Janiel is not a person. It's an angel.
Mikal smiles faintly, then adds, "And anyone else? If the rakshasa come in peace, can you say all your people will do the same here?"
Norris looks between Mikal and Janiel. Part of him thinks this is a bad idea. That this angel, at least, doesn't deserve respect or consideration that Mikal gives her. But the smith is quiet, and respectful of the play that Mikal has called: it's her circle of salt. And this is not, perhaps, the venue for them to throw down with an angel, even a young one. There's not enough at stake.
The angel bites back a retort, then says carefully, "Did you see an angel here saying that only angels could come here? I came because someone had put salt around our memorial."
Mikal looks puzzled, answering bluntly, "No, I see an angel who doesn't seem to have answered my question. I'm happy to remove the salt, as long as I know it won't lead to more bloodshed. Is it that you want more bloodshed? Am I missing something here?"
Norris is having this very odd war with himself. He wants to retort. There is a very clear voice that wants to verbally spar with the angel. But the calm, solid lad is seemingly wiser than that internal voice, and he stays silent.
Janiel looks about ready to burst, but she takes in a long, slow breath, and then says carefully. "Neither you... nor I... are in the position to negotiate this place as a 'neutral zone' between the angels and raksasha. I am here... because you surrounded our memorial to our dead and our victory with salt. I am asking you to please remove the circle of salt-of-the-earth from around the memorial."
Mikal nods slowly, "I understand. Could you hang on just a moment, please?" She turns to her friends and whispers softly, "I don't think this is something we can negotiate without asking the rakshasa at the same time... and I'm really unsure about our trying to impose our will on them, you know? So... should I just remove the salt? I mean, if the rakshasa wanted to, they could salt it themselves -- and they hadn't. Right?"
Norris carefully considers his answer. "Yew did what yew intended, Mikal. The ghosts bound here are free. As'tis, the salt is just an insult t' the angel's pride. An if we hope fer any common ground a'tall, it's gonna come because we show th' angels that there's something besides black an' white in our dealings." He smiles a little. "Asides...th' angel is saying 'please'. 'Ats a step up from dictating commands." And, perhaps, humiliation enough for one day.
Mikal nods thoughtfully, "That's a very good point -- thank you!" She beams and gives Norris a quick hug, then turns and says cheerfully to the angel, "All right! Hang on while I tidy up a bit, please." She steps out of the circle of salt to head for the little monument, to carefully brush aside and bury the salt around the plinth.
Norris freezes slightly...ohboy. It was his intention to be the one to clean the salt...he wants Mikal safe in the circle! He wavers in place, about to stop her, but then stands firm, and keeps a close eye on Janiel. She is bowed, but not broken, and he doesn't trust her as far as he could throw her.
Jareth tenses up as Mikal steps outside the circle of slat. He agrees with Norris about the freed ghosts. And Norris is now carrying something he guesses is a special weapon of the rakshasa.
At Mikal's affirmation, Janiel looks a little relieved, and nods, stepping back a ways to give MIkal room without her looming over the mortal. Nevertheless, she does watch carefully as Mikal clears away the salt.
Mikal finishes cleaning up, then straightens, studying the plinth thoughtfully with her hands on her hips. To Janiel she says, "All right, come test, please? I want to be sure the salt's cleared away enough."
Janiel cocks a brow at Mikal, but does approach the memorial, slowly and carefully, with her free hand held towards it. When her hand finally touches the memorial, the lets out a faint breath, and relaxes. "Yes, that did it. Thank you."
Jareth's other brow goes up. He hadn't expected the thanks from the angel.
Mikal smiles shyly, "Welcome." She turns and heads back to her friends, waving and calling cheerfully back to the angel, "Be well!" To her friends she happily adds, "All right, shall we go?"
Jareth nods mutely, eyes huge.
Janiel nods to Mikal, then launches herself up into the air; she is slower than, say, a raptor, but flies at a decent pace. Some distance away she flares with light and disappears.
Mikal blinks up at Jareth, then looks worried, "Er... did I say something wrong?"
Jareth hugs Mikal tightly and presses his face into her hair, mumbling, "You are so very brave, little rabbit."
Norris doesn't relax till Janiel leaves. And then he sighs. "Good. She aint Azrael's lil helper. We kin get Jareth outta th' circle."
Mikal looks startled at the sudden hug... then tentatively hugs back, "Er... thank you? What did I do?"
Norris chuckles. "Yew faced down an angel an won." he explains.
Mikal looks even more startledly at Norris, peeking at him sideways from the comfort of Jareth's hug, "I... but I just -- uh, I mean... er... I did?"
Norris nods. "She came here, all trumpets, an with a spear, thinkin to intimidate us int' doing her Lord's will. Just because you did it, yew still did it on yer own terms. Didn't let her intimidate yew."
Jareth laughs a bit shakily and lifts Mikal up, kissing her on the nose, "You did. I think the goddess was still on you when you did."
Mikal squeaks startledly at being suddenly lifted, but maintains enough equanimity to throw her arms around Jareth's neck -- this is nice! She's blushing in nervous delight as she stammers, "I, I, I, uh... okay? Wh-what do you m-mean, please?"
Jareth says, "About what? About the goddess being on you? "
Mikal nods nervously, still clinging to Jareth like a startled but excited little monkey.
Norris busies himself gathering up the salt around Jareth and he. Waste not, want not. Smiling as the goatherd hefts the huntress.
Jareth has to think about that one. The phrase had just leaped into his mind. Finally, he says, "When you were speaking to the spirits of the rakshasa, it was like there was a goddess standing on the earth. You called them and fred them. And then the angel came, and you still had that aura around you."
Mikal thinks carefully herself as well, running back through her memory of the last half an hour or so. She finally nods slowly, "I... I think you're right, Jair." She shivers nervously, turning her head to tuck her face against Jareth's shoulder, and her voice is muffled as she says in a small voice, "I -- I d-don't know how it happened -- I'm sorry!"
Jareth shakes his head and says, "No. Don't apologize for that."
Mikal just hugs Jareth for a while -- she's not quite sure how to deal with what she remembers doing recently.
Norris reaches over and pats Mikal on the back. "Dun worry, Rabbit. We dun blame yew for some random Goddess comin' over and helpin yew do something spectacularly amazin and wonderful fer a buncha rakshasa spirits. It were an accident, an I'm sure that in the future, yew'll know better than t' act on your instincts an do nice things, on the chance that you'll get help from some pushy deity that dun like you." It's hard to tell if he's serious or not. He's so straight faced.
Mikal blinks at that, peeking over her shoulder with one eye at Norris. She sounds like she isn't sure whether to be indignant or thankful as she says, "Sh-she wasn't random at all, Norr -- she was Inanna!"
Jareth's lips twitch in amusement, shaking his head at Norris. Then it occurs to him, "Bear, what did the rakshasa point us at?"
Norris ohs! "Ah see. So it were a goddess yew do know, then. A friendly goddess? One yew like?"
Mikal sounds confused, as if she's not sure whether she's being teased or not, "She... Norris, she's the Goddess!"
Norris's brow crinkles. "The goddess? As in there aint no others? Ah kin think of a few jus off the top o my head." he comments with bemusement as he looks closer at the mace he was given by Jareth, finally taking a moment to study the weapon.
Mikal grins shyly, absently wriggling a bit closer to Jareth -- this is surprisingly nice! She doesn't know why Jareth hasn't put her down yet, but she's not going to argue with that. "She's the one they all descend from, Norris. The Goddess -- she came first, and she's called by many names in many places." She hesitates, frowning a little in thought, then decides that actually does sound right. "Um... I think, at least?"
Jareth carefully lowers Mikal to her feet. He's not as strong at Norris and Mikal, petite though she is, is a solidly-built young woman. "There a god to match her? Someone different than the Architect?"
Norris's brow knits further. "wait...so alla this stuff about pantheons an alla that is just rot? There's onleh one god an one goddess? Naw, wait...that caint be right. Cause if there wuz, then how kin Vishnu be dead, annat."
Mikal looks faintly disappointed, but will slide an arm shyly about Jareth's waist if he doesn't step away. "I, um... I'm not sure? In my head, it's like a story that she's the sister or mother, and he's a big arrogant weenie... but I don't know if that's right?"
Jareth shrugs his shoulders and says, "We'll find the story somewhere."
Mikal looks relieved, "Okay!"
Jareth lays his hand over Mikal's and pulls her arm more snugly around his waist. He's still a little giddy over the fact that they aren't dead.
Mikal blushes as she hastily ducks her head, but looks rather pleased that Jareth doesn't seem to mind her touching him! She leans against the young man as she asks, "S-so N-n-norris, what's the p-pretty mace do?"
Norris is studying the weapon when Mikal asks, shifting grip, moving it from hand to hand. It's superbly made, but of fairly unusual design. On the one hand, it's just a normal two-handed mace, but strangely, when the weapon is brought to the ready, it feels considerably lighter and easier to handle than when it is held at his side, head close to the ground. "Jair, could ya try holdin' this a mo? Tell me iffn ya feel the weight shift."
Jareth blinks and nods, taking the mace, "Sure. It's awfully big for me, though."
Mikal steps aside a touch reluctantly, but then finds herself watching with interest how the weapon moves. Curiously she says, "Shouldn't we do this as we head for the rakshasa lord's place?" She thinks a moment, then adds, "I'll go get the horses!" and scampers off.
Norris grins. "That's mah point. Ahm used t' being strong, so mebbe this is ommat kinda false positive. But if yew can handle it easy, that tell me that there's sommat special about this yere mace."
Jareth swings the mace through a few positions, carefully so as not to hurt himself, brows drawn together as he checks to see if it handles easily. He huhs and says, "The weight sort of shifts... toward the head, I think... Is there some kind of weight in the handle?" Without really thinking about it, he looks over the mace with his Second Sight.
Mikal calls over her shoulder, "And Tigernmus!" She heads for the village at a lightfooted run, Raphael loping easily along next to her. Once they reach the village she asks the raptor-wolf to go wake up Tigernmus while she feeds and tacks up the horses. She does so quickly, bringing them out to the front of the inn to meet Tigernmus and lead him back to the others.
Jareth huhs again and says, "I think... there's some sort of magic there."
Norris watches Jareth with the mace, fascinated by his impression confirmed. "Realleh? Huh. Looks normal to me." It's actually a rather lovely weapon. The head is made to resemble a bull's head, though the horns curve and aren't pointed to puncture the target. The haft and handle are elaborate but solid, of some steel composite. Norris even notes it resembles rakshasa armor, which he had a brief chance to view when seeing the ghosts, as well as the one they spoke with around the fire.
Norris looks wistful. "Wayland didn't get 'round t' teaching me about magical forgins. Though ah spect ah gots a ways t' go before ah kin get to it."
Jareth nods and grins, swinging it around with a little more confidence, "It almost feels like I could handle it in a fight." He smirks self-deprecatingly, "Almost." He holds the mace out, shaft-first to Norris, "I'm sure you'll get there."
Norris accepts it carefully, carrying the mace in one hand and his maul in the other. "Mebbe yew kin help me, even. Iffn yew got th' magic seein' eyes, mebbe you kin teach me how t' recreate what yew see?"
Norris starts walking with his friend towards the direction that MIkal darted off in.
Jareth shrugs and moves leisurely with Norris toward the town, "I'll do my best. It's... well, it's strange to be able to see that sort of thing. But it's coming in useful."
Raphael shortly emerges from the inn with Tigernmus in tow, who is just draping a tunic over his broad shoulders. "Find anything at the battlefield, Rabbit?" he asks casually, as he yawns and stretches a litle.
Norris tilts his head at Jareth. "What's it like? Seein magic, annat?"
Mikal is scrambling up onto Iron Antlers' back as she replies excitedly, "Oh, yes! There were rakshasa ghosts and an angelic plinth and we salted it and showed the ghosts how to go home and the angel Janiel arrived and was angry but we talked about it and decided she was right and removed the salt and then I came for you!" She starts to mention the mace, but catches herself -- that's Norris's and Jareth's story! She beams as she adds, "Did you have a nice sleep, Tigernmus lord?"
Mikal is already heading back out to the field with everyone in tow as she asks.
Tigernmus is clearly trying to catch up, mentaly, with the flood of information Mikal just gave, but after a moment, he says, "Oh! Yes, yes, thank you, I did...." He manages to easily keep pace with Iron Antlers. "I find that sleep, or at least meditation, helps me to focus more."
Jareth rubs his chin as he thinks, glancing up at the eerie dreamtime sky, "It'snot a whole lot different than seeing anything else, I guess. You know how you can look at a weapon or a hunk of iron and tell things about it that maybe I wouldn't be able to tell? It's like that. I can just see things."
Mikal nods happily to the huge man, "That's good! We need to talk to the leader of the rakshasa, so you and Cat need to be in tiptop condition, I think, yes?"
"Yes, of course. You are planning on going there now, then?"
Norris puts his maul back in the sling...that way he can hold the mace in both hands. Wondering, absently, that when the ghost pointed out this buried treasure, he was hoping that Norris would bury it in some angel's skull. The thought makes him grimace. He's listening to Jareth explain, though, and he nods in comprehension as the goatherd puts it into terms he can well understand. "Guess I just thought it were kinda like what we dun see, passin through the Mirror, or sommat. Like it's captive art that's hard t' interpret." His head tilts. "What did ya see lookin at the Lotus Seed?"
Mikal grins over at the big man from where she's perched easily on the big fey-stag's shoulders, with the horses cantering relaxedly ahead of them, herded gently along by Iron Antlers and Raphael, "Yes, please! Don't want to waste any time, after all."
Mikal spots her packmates ahead and waves enthusiastically to them. Considering the size of the herd cantering towards them, it would be exceedingly hard to miss her, of course.
Jareth stops short, "I never thought to look at it that way."
Mikal is keeping an eye out -- as she does after every Dawn -- for any awen on the trail. Slowly but surely she's building up the bow's store of awen, with at least one being inserted each day.
Norris grins. "Mebbe what seem like art t' others just seem like knowin what kinda metal folks used t' make a certain type o' steel."
Norris's smile trails off. "Th' lotus seed ah made in mah dream didn't look that special. Jus a lil' metal egg. Size o a watermelon. And from that came what Oppie called 'th destroyer of worlds. Strange how complex simple seeming things kin be." He gestures. "Kinda like this mace."
Jareth laughs and shrugs again, reaching over to pat Norris on the shoulder, "If we ever get back to the armory I'll see what it can show me." He catches sight of the motion and grins as he sees their traveling companions moving toward them.
The group heads towards the starlit slopes of immense Mount Meru. It takes several days to reach the foothills; fortunately the journey is benign and relatively without incident. The journey seems easier than the trip to Thebes, certainly; part of this is because of the extensive roads that seem to exist in this part of the Dreamtime, leading even up to Mount Meru itself. One person they ask about this says that it is because, before the Godswar, this region had a much closer relationship with the gods of Meru than other regions did, and so travel to the gods' home was a little more commonplace and made easier by the roads.
The towns and villages they come across are relatively peaceful, and have nothing to do with Mordred whatsoever. Of much greater import to them is the war between the angels and the raksasha. As they near Mount Meru, it becomes clear that the fighting has spilled out onto the plains surrounding the mountain. Battlefields are becoming more common, and they can now recognize the angelic plinths; the raksasha don't seem to commemorate their victories in the same way, choosing to leave no marker. This close, too, when the light dims in the hours before the Dawn, flashes of light and distant peals of thunder and drums and weapons up on the higher slopes of the mountain can be heard. Based on what they can see, it seems that the fighting is concentrated on the other side of the mountain, opposite the side facing the Mirror.
Mikal frowns worriedly at sight of the battlefields, and takes a moment to check them all for lost souls.
Most all of the battlefields seem to have been vacated by the ghosts some time since; the ones the group run into seem somewhat older. The group learns this in a little village at the foot of a long, winding trail that leads up the mountain and over a ridge around it. It is a tiny village, almost the size of Staunton, albeit rather more exotic than Staunton ever could have pretended to be. The aethyrs here appear human, and are quite happy to feed and drink with the group when they stop by, stabling the mounts. The public house is lively but not rambunctious, and the publican is more than happy to let Jareth 'sing for their supper,' or rather to regale the patrons with stories in exchange for dinner for the group.
Norris spends those several days working on Jareth's armor. It's different from his own, because he's actually adding metal studs to it. It's a first for him, because he's combining metalwork and leatherwork, and he's better at one than the other. Fortunately, both the craftsmen at the Winter Castle, and Wayland gave him good advice on how to do it. That said, he's still slower and more deliberate than other crafters might be.
Mikal keeps the group moving along as swiftly as she can, although she won't injure the animals in the process. She wants to get this mission over with, so they can move on to something else useful to do. Slowly but surely she's becoming convinced this is a fool's mission: if the rakshasa are desperately defending their own home from the usually victorious angels, they're going to have little to no time to spend chasing after one lone annoying angel... that's not even attacking them currently. She also searches avidly for awen each day as they travel. She's determined to put at least one chunk into the bow on a daily basis.
The village is really little more than the public house, a waystation for merchants and couriers, and a small temple to the gods of Mount Meru; once it tended to pilgrims, especially mortal pilgrims, but now it is simply tended carefully by an aethyr who claims to have done so since the beginning of human history. He is more than happy to show the temple to the group, but there really isn't much to it other than the bronze statue of the dancing god in the nook.
Mikal is quietly drawn to the small dancer, although she couldn't say precisely why. She picks some flowers and sets them respectfully by the altar, scattering petals over the bronze statue as she murmurs a quiet prayer.
Norris is out stretching his legs when he notices Mikal's quiet little genuflection. "Who'sat supposed to be?" He looks to see if there's any inscription, although it's questionable if he'd be able to read it or not...
Mikal shakes her head a little sadly, "I would guess it's Vishnu Lord, from what the rakshasa ghost told us?"
Norris uhs. "yeah, good point. That would kinda make sense." He thinks about that a bit. "Ah wonder iffn gods have ghosts."
Mikal's eyes widen a bit and she breaths, "Oh, the poor thing!" as she looks around closely -- then she shakes her head worriedly, "If they do, Bear... wouldn't they be around their scene of death?" She pauses, considering, then murmurs even more worriedly, "Unless... there was something terribly important that was left undone elsewhere...?"
Jareth watches Mikal and Norris at the shrine, considering the idea of god-ghosts. With a little chill of forboding, or maybe just fear, he looks around, wondering if he can see anything of the sort.
Norris grimaces. "Ah dunno, Mikal. Donno what makes a person divine. Coul' be that gods an goddesses are all spirit, an no body. When th' bodies o' mortals an aethyr are gone, sommat escapes. But iffn gods dun have shells, then when yuh kill em, aint nobbut left."
Jareth's eyes move around the shrine, examining all of it that he can see, and then he finds himself strangely disappointed when he sees nothing but the shrine and the bepetaled statue of the god.
Mikal doesn't see anything weird, and she nods slowly at Norris's commentary, thinking hard. She quietly thanks the shrine's guardian, then heads off to the inn again, still pondering.
Jareth steps toward the shrine and murmurs something that's more an apology than a prayer and then falls in beside Mikal to head back to the inn. He's been enjoying getting to stretch his bardic legs along the journey.
Mikal slips one small hand into Jareth's, if he doesn't seem to mind. She's still looking quite thoughtful as she pads silently along.
Jareth certainly doesn't mind holding Mikal's hand as they walk. It actually seems to put a little extra spring in his step.
Evening comes, the hours till dawn whittling away. Nightbirds seem to be prolific in this area, and though loud they don't seem to hinder rest or sleep.
What does hinder sleep, however, is, at around midnight, the sudden crash of thunder, the flash of lightning, and the crash and splintering of a tree, shortly accompanied by shouts, growls, trumpets' fanfares, screaming, and chaos.
Mikal nearly rockets out of the bed she's curled up on, with a gasp of shock. A moment to look around wild-eyed -- then she's diving for her gear, calling urgently to her friends, "Quick, quick! We have to get the animals to cover!"
Jareth is out of bed somewhat more slowly, not so much thinking as simply following the orders coming from Mikal. His eyes aren't even fully awake until he's pulling his shirt on.
Mikal pauses only long enough to think very carefully to the fay-stag, [Iron Antlers, can you get the horses out of the barn?! Careful -- don't get hurt!]
Norris jerks upright himself at a crash and...trumpets? Wait a minute... He gets up too, but he's putting his armor on first. "Ah dun frigging believe it..." he mutters to himself, sounding irritated. Looking at Jareth, he shakes an admonishing finger. "Yew stay wi' me, mister. Ah want yew where ah kin keep an eye on yew."
Iron Antlers confirms that he will, and Mikal gets the sense of him starting to move the other animals out of the barn. Meanwhile, another peal of thunder is accompanied by the shattering of wood, and a faint whiff of burning.
Mikal nods grimly to Norris, "Good plan. Get Tigernmus and head for the barn, all right? Iron Antlers is getting the horses out. Raph and I will go to the roof and check out what's happening -- we'll catch up with you there!"
Jareth peers groggily at Norris and mumbles, "Aye, cap'n." It's hard to tell if he's just sleepy or being somewhat ironic. He does, however, remember to hang a small bag of salt around his neck. The trumpets make him think, even half-awake, that there might well be angels out there. And goodness knows he's not fond of angels at the moment.
Mikal is already dashing out of the room after Raphael, who has his salt bag around his neck too, and is bounding up the stairs. She's not sure what she can do to help the poor people here, but more information can't hurt -- she hopes.
Norris starts to go for his maul...thinks better of it, and grabs the mace instead. "We's not gonna fight unless we gots ta." he cautions Jareth, as he sees the boy grab the bag. Just gonna make sure no innocent folk get hurt, yeah? Much as we may not like th' angels, this aint our fight." Once he's set, he heads to the main room, to see what's what...
Mikal reaches the top of the building, and to deosil she sees waht must be a bit of the war spilling over onto the plains, not half a mile away. It seems that, literally, a squad of angels fell to the ground, and were pounced upon by the raksasha. There are trees on fire, but so far, none of the buildings of the village are yet. Most of the raksasha seem to be wielding axes or tulwar swords, while the angels have longswords or lances. But they seem to be wielding other weapons as well, including lightning and wind so fierce and concentrated it's visible, and gouts of flame.
Mikal frowns puzzledly, shading her eyes to see better, and mutters to Raphael, "Why aren't the rakshasa using magic? Or... ah, I get it! They must be using their ability to look like trusted friends to get in amongst the angels -- that'd be a devastating attack!" She's impressed by how brightly lit the battlefield is even at night, though. That more than anything convinces her that they should all get out of here quickly. She nods to Raphael as she drops down from the roof and follows him downstairs again, "All right, they're off deosil. Let's get our pack moving widdershins!"
Jareth follows after Norris, feeling quite exposed and quite a lot more vulnerable than he would like. In front of an audience or talking with strangers, he feels like he's nigh invincible. When it comes to weapons, he's more than usually aware of just how fragile life is.
Mikal carefully thinks the desired direction to Iron Antlers, so everyone's headed the right way to get well and safely out of town.
The people of the village that they can see are panicking. They had not expected battles this close to tow, or if they had, they had not anticipated the ferocity of the fighting. Some appear resigned, however, as if this was bound to happen sometime; the rest are trying to get the hell out of the way of the titans that are dueling less than half a mile away.
The villagers aren't hurting themselves in their panic, but they are very very VERY eager to get away from the fighting and what looks like will spill over onto their buildings, accompanied by screaming.
Mikal dodges swiftly with Raphael through the screaming, fleeing aethyrs, looking around worriedly in the darkness for her pack and the horses. She figures the aethyrs must be able to see in the dark better than she can, considering how they're moving.
Jareth stays close by Norris, even going to far as to tuck a hand into his much-larger friend's belt. He's worried for the villagers, knowing that it's difficult to stay focused enough to get yourself out of the way of danger when you were wide awake, when awakened from sleep, it's even worse.
Norris grimaces at the panicing...of course, he wants people to be safe, but he's not sure that he's all that good at organizing people into a cogent retreat. He guides Jareth out of the building, and keeps him to one side in a place easy for Mikal to find, so they aren't separated in the shuffle.
Mikal sighs in relief as Raphael points her towards the little pack leading the horses out of town, and hastily joins them. Trotting along next to them, she raises her voice enough to be heard, "We need to go widdershins -- the battle is deosil from here, about half a click away!"
Mikal heads everyone out of town as swiftly as possible, leading them into the sheltering darkness away from the explosions and screaming.
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