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Götterdämmerung [IC/PG-16/COMPLETED]

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Belladone

Eilis arrived first, lurking just outside the doorframe as she was wont to do before slowly creeping in. “I’m not too early, am I?” she said. “Is Flynt even here to welcome us all in?” There wasn’t really an answer that would satisfy her, though, and besides, she had seen Flynt working on some structure earlier with one of the watchdogs -- the one that wasn’t in the middle of Flynt’s house with a pot of stew.

It looked like a nice building, Eilis remembered thinking as she passed it by, even in its unfinished state. She could even imagine what it was supposed to look like when finished, obelisks flanking either side as stairs circled around to a central room. Maybe it was a little out of place in the aesthetic of the village, but firstly, she didn’t dare judge such things more than the idle thoughts she already had, and second, of all the buildings to do such a thing, wouldn’t a temple make the most sense? She’d heard stories of other islands, ones where you always knew where the temple was. Even visitors would know just by sight which building was the temple, even on an island full of majestic buildings.

She wasn’t sure why she was here anymore. Well, that wasn’t true; it made sense why. The dreams were hers, after all. Nor was she about to turn down a free dinner, especially when a watchdog was the one offering, but it still didn’t feel like her place. Brigitte, Jones, Flynt… they were the leaders of the island, and the watchdogs were watchdogs, obviously. She was just… there, without even the comfort of her husband.

Now, in fairness, that last one was more of a practical matter. Someone had to have all of their things gathered and ready in case immediate evacuation was the end decision, and Grayson readily agreed. The only last decision they needed to make was their animals, but Eilis trusted Grayson to make the best decision he could as to which had to stay and which they could corral aboard.

“Um,” Eilis said aloud, but she didn’t really have any more questions or any other reason to stand where she was, blocking the entryway. She did find one as she approached the table, though. “I just sit here, then?”


Force Majeure

Flynt took a step back and surveyed their handiwork. Kitt had done most of it, as though his body was specifically crafted for this purpose and also had the power of a god on his side. But Flynt had still contributed in noticeable areas, even if his older bones creaked and his muscles ached afterwards. “It’s good,” he said, not out of want for anything else to say, no, it was just all that needed to be said, or the start of it, anyway. “Even if this doesn’t work, though there is no fear in my mind that such circumstances come to pass, we can at least be satisfied with a job well done. You were particularly inspired near the end there, Kitt, don’t think I couldn’t see you picking up in both pace and spirits.”

Perhaps the latter was misattributed, Flynt thought as he approached his former protege. Now he could see Kitt was huffing and puffing like anyone else would. “I think we need to go check on Olivander and see if he’s finished dinner,” Kitt said in between breaths. “After we're done...perhaps we can gather the town and prepare the dedication ceremony for this new temple.”

“Yes, of course,” Flynt said. “I believe I mentioned pheasant this morning and yesterday, but I wonder what your friend has cooked up.”


Captain

He had watched the thing be built right from his bedroom window, just as he had watched everything else that happened on the island before it, and now, just as the sun was beginning to set on another day, Old Man Jones, for the first time in a long time, stepped out of his home and began to make his way across the village to Flynt’s house. Brigitte was at his side the whole way. “Sure has been a busy day,” she said. “I’m going to miss this place.”

“Day’s not over yet,” Jones replied. “There are still things to work out, and if only one of them’s been working on that temple, who knows what the other’s been up to?”

“Dinner, he said.”

“Dinner, he said.” Old Man Jones repeated Brigitte’s phrase with a special emphasis. “My understanding is he’s a dog of Hinder’s, which means he’s certainly clever. And the last meeting did end with a number of my questions still tabled. Surely they’re not just cooking. Saw the ship’s captain show up there, they could have been talking about any number of things, for example.”

They went a little further down before Brigitte spoke up again. “Do you think they’re right? Do you want them to succeed?”

“Of course I do,” Jones said. “But, if they’re going to let me, I’m going to keep asking questions of them until I know everything I can, you know this. For example, I’m going to want to know who the temple is for and what they’re planning to do with it. First, though, is this question: what’s for dinner?”

They were the final two people from the first meeting to arrive at Flynt’s house. Seeing everyone else already seated, Jones got right to business. That first question was answered immediately just by the smell: Goat stew. The second…

“Alright, so,” Jones said as he sat down, “are we preventing the volcano eruption, or are we running away in terror? Or is it both? Neither?”


OOC

Spoiler

Subtitles are songs from Gaspar Auge's new album Escapades

In case it wasn't clear, the order I set up for arriving to dinner is Eilis, then Kitt and Flynt, then finally Jones and Brigitte. Don't know if that matters to either of you, but there it is. Other than that, I mean, I talked about what this would look like last time: explaining the new, revised plan to everyone present. Let me know if you want stuff from me, particularly if you want to catch Jones questions in your post.

Definitely take time to enjoy the meal if you want, though. Olive spent a lot of time on it.

-r


 

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The G.O.A.T.

As Flynt's home slowly filled with guests, Olivander's anxiety began to rise. "Oh gods. What if they don't like it? What if I under serve someone? What if I over serve someone? What if its over cooked and tough? What if its under cooked and makes someone sick!? Oh gods, just let the volcano take me now!" his brain rattled. Olivander took a deep breath as he began filling the bowls around the dinner table. When every bowl had a healthy serving of stew, he finally sat down to his own bowl and filled it. Unfortunately for Olive, there was only enough for a half-serving for himself. He sighed silently but accepted the remaining serving and helped himself. At the very least, everyone else would be full.

The room was quiet at first but as Jones took his seat he prompted discussion right away. “Alright, so,” the elder began. “are we preventing the volcano eruption, or are we running away in terror? Or is it both? Neither?”

Olivander hadn't quite taken a bite of his own cooking yet, so he sat his spoon down and looked up toward Jones. He decided to try and get ahead of the situation and admit to his own selfish acts first. "As I've more or less stated before, I'm of the opinion that we should leave. I've already blundered it obviously, but Captain Helmsley is ready to take on the work and help the people of Corpus to escape. I spoke with him briefly not long ago. I'm not entirely sure what Flynt and Kitt were up to while I was preparing dinner, but I still stand by my words. We should be leaving," Olivander expressed. He didn't seem his normal boastful, staunch self. Rather, Olivander came across as solemn and weary. "I'm of course open to our other options, whatever they may be."

Edited by Comrade Duck

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Shrines and Sacrifices

“Alright, so, are we preventing the volcano eruption, or are we running away in terror? Or is it both? Neither?”

Kitt was enjoying the meal that Olivander prepared...goat...rather than pheasant...odd choice, but who was he to judge. Jones did ask the question and Olivander answered first...usually customary that he did.

"As I've more or less stated before, I'm of the opinion that we should leave. I've already blundered it obviously, but Captain Helmsley is ready to take on the work and help the people of Corpus to escape. I spoke with him briefly not long ago. I'm not entirely sure what Flynt and Kitt were up to while I was preparing dinner, but I still stand by my words. We should be leaving. I'm of course open to our other options, whatever they may be."

Once his comrade finished, Kitt took the opportunity to speak up, clearing his throat. "If I may...I have a different solution. One that I felt that only I could bring forth..." he said, exhaling slowly. "With assistance of others here on Corpus, along with Flynt, and even the direction on where to build this...I've constructed a temple to Dia." he stood up slowly from the table, looking at each and every one of those present, before stopping on Jones. "As we talked before, there may've been a solution to keeping the volcano from erupting and or even bypassing it all the same, but as you mentioned, those things have been lost to time." Kitt watched Jones nod slowly.

"That's what got me thinking somewhat. Dia gifted this island as a refuge and a safe haven for that woman in the stories...she had pity on her." he explained. "And after she was placed on this island, I'm sure she gave thanks and praised Dia for all she did. ...the gods are fickle beings, but I had the thought of dedicating a temple to Dia. We use the temple, make the dedication to her, present an offering onto her and beseech that she has her favor return to the island. Now I'm not saying Dia has turned her back on Corpus...not at all...but between fleeing the island and staying to survive and thrive, perhaps reaching out to the goddess to show her favor towards the people of this island would be just whats needed. I'm planning to dedicate the temple as soon as possible...but I wish to inform you all, if you are serious about surviving on this island, just as those before you did...I'd suggest that you may need to call upon the island's creator in your time of need."

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Collaborations Don't Work

Eilis sat patiently eating her meal as the drama surrounding the fate of Corpus unfolded around her. There were two separate plans, actually, one involving that massive temple that had just sprung up, built for that very purpose, it seemed, and one involving that equally-sized ship that the watchdogs had arrived on. She wasn’t the only one who noticed the disparity between them either; Headman Jones seized on the opportunity to step in. “Well, which is it, then?” he said. “I don’t think you mean to tell me you spent the better part of this afternoon not working together, do you?”

Flynt immediately stepped in as well. “Now hold on, I don’t think it’s fair to dismiss both ideas because the watchdogs came up with them individually…”

“I’m not saying that because they came up with two plans,” Jones said, “I’m saying it because when they ran off just after lunch, there were questions I wanted answered, and though many have been, now there’s a whole temple completely unrelated to that plan.”

“At the very least, it would be nice to know which one of you wasted your time,” Brigitte snarked.

Eilis looked back down at her stew and gave it a stir. It was pretty good, actually -- great, even, if you had the right palate -- but she was eating it slowly mostly because keeping her head down and focusing on her bowl was a thing she could do at a meeting like this. If someone else said something, sure, she would look back up, but that was it, just as an observer.

As she took another stir and brought another spoonful to her mouth, as Flynt was countering with, “We have enough time to discuss as much as we need to, and, in any case, such discussion was our only tabled motion from this afternoon,” Eilis couldn’t help but think about the island. She would miss it, to be sure. Most of the things on it would survive, of course, or most of her things, anyway, so long as Grayson did what he promised (and there was no reason to think that he wouldn’t!), but there was still an impending, if abstract, feeling of loneliness lodged in the pit of her gut. Probably because it was home, she reasoned. Maybe she’d have felt the same if she and Grayson moved to a different hut in the village, or even if she slept in a different room in the house she already had, for example. Even then, at least in those cases, she could go back if she wanted to -- no such luck now. Well…

“I came to dinner expecting to simply be an arbiter,” Headman Jones said. “I expected at most to ask a few more questions and then give my final consent. As far as I am concerned, that is still my station. I would not dare make decisions for those of higher standing than I. Which is it?”

“We could do both,” Eilis said.

The words had escaped her lips before she even had a chance to process them, and she quickly waved her hands as she tried to think of further justification for her interruption. “I mean, I don’t particularly want to leave, I don’t think you do either, Headman, if that’s okay for me to say. But Kevin -- you’ve seen Kevin recently, right? -- he might want to leave, for example. So might some of the others. I just- you asked, ‘Both?’ as we all sat down, and maybe we should be thinking about that option.”

The silence that followed as she finished was deafening, and Eilis shrank back into her chair. “I’m sorry, ignore me.”


OOC

Spoiler

Subtitle is a song that, ironically, came out of collaboration between the bands Franz Ferdinand and Sparks, a supergroup known as FFS (because of course it was)

Anyway, doing as I promised, guiding things towards a "neither plan contradicts the other so we can do both, right?" solution. If this isn't the road you two want to take this is where you would discuss that amongst yourselves, though I imagine you'll be doing that anyway? I dunno, path seems pretty clear for the next post anyway whichever choice you make. As always, let me know if you need some lines. I should be around, though a bit less than before because of job.

Hope things are okay (and that they stay okay)

-r

 

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If They Could See Me Now

"Both, huh?" Olivander reacted softly to Eilis' words. "Leaving the choice to the masses is probably... more in line with the thoughts of the gods than anything myself or Kitt could propose, if I'm being totally honest," he finally admitted. "While the gods may influence our lives, I suppose too much influence would deter our free will. Better we leave the final decision to those who, ultimately, would or would not like to evacuate."

Olivander, in all actuality, felt defeated. This wasn't something he considered, and it made his stomach twist into knots. If people stayed and the volcano did in fact erupt, they would die. If they left, and nothing happened, would they feel cheated? Would they resent the gods, and, as a result, resent the watchdogs? He rubbed his chin softly as he contemplated the weight of his words and actions. Had he acted to rashly in a rush and need to get everyone off the island? In pushing the islanders to evacuate, was he over stepping his boundaries? He was conflicted and confused and agitated. With a dejected sigh, he cemented his answer at last. "Yes. It's best to leave the final answer up to the individual. But I must caution that, in the event that the mountain does erupt, there will be nothing we can do to stop it. From here, at least, it would probably be best to open a forum to the public. They should be made aware of the situation. Though, by now, I'm sure the whispers have made it through the cracks."

He was certain about this course of action at least. The public of Corpus should be alerted to the possible impending doom, and be allowed to decide for themselves if they would like to evacuate.

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The Will of the People

“I’m not saying that because they came up with two plans. I’m saying it because when they ran off just after lunch, there were questions I wanted answered, and though many have been, now there’s a whole temple completely unrelated to that plan.”

Kitt was wanting to address this, to have Jones understand what his processes were, but then Eilis spoke up...

“We could do both I mean, I don’t particularly want to leave, I don’t think you do either, Headman, if that’s okay for me to say. But Kevin -- you’ve seen Kevin recently, right? -- he might want to leave, for example. So might some of the others. I just- you asked, ‘Both?’ as we all sat down, and maybe we should be thinking about that option. I’m sorry, ignore me.”

"N-No...no that's a good point." Kitt said, now practically echoing what Olivander just said moments ago after she said this. "The people of this island and all other islands have the freedom of free will, as such it would only be fair to let the people decide for themselves what they want. After all, forcefully having those choose one or the other in something like this actually wouldn't benefit anyone...not if it means we choose something for a free willed individual."

He paused to continue to eat some, before returning to what he was saying. "As for the temple...no, originally it wasn't related to the plans. But in a way, it is." Kitt began, addressing Jones' concern. "I know not what or where those before you all did with the information regarding any other times Vermeer has erupted, so without that knowledge I am unable to truly deal with a plan of action to better suit things. Building a temple..." he paused, before glancing at Flynt with a slight sigh. "...I'm a Watchdog of Taros, as such I deal with the physical aspect of things...I deal with working with my hands. After looking at the altar in town, I figured it would be beneficial to have a place where Dia herself can dwell. The spirit of those who came before you on Corpus, those who continuously harbor that will to survive, they owed everything to Dia. The island's creation, the compassion to the runaway woman...Dia is responsible for helping. My thoughts were...if she did all this, the least the people could do is thank her."

Kitt immediately held his hands up in a defensive manner. "I'm not saying you haven't...nor am I saying that this is a decree from the gods themselves, but...look at it this way. If say you, Jones sir, did something to help not just one person, but ended up helping a lot of people in the process...wouldn't you have a slight feeling on wanting to be recognized for this accomplishment? To be praised almost?" he took a slight breather before continuing. "All I did, was give the people of Corpus, a chance to reach Dia and thank her for what she has done and quite frankly, what she will continue to do. Because if anything, the fact that the island of Corpus has survived this long is due to her allowing it...no matter how you cut it."

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Heretical Doses

Old Man Jones put down his spoon and went through the process of cracking his joints. His movements were slow, but they were slow in a way that belied his deliberation. “I see,” he said, with the same pace as everything else. “Alright, well, at the very least there are no further questions on my end. Like I said, you answered most of the ship ones already, and the temple ones seem less pressing given that ‘stay here’ was what we were already doing. You said you expect us to maintain the temple collectively, yes? Though I suppose you don’t have the authority to speak for Dia herself and appoint a temple head, so that makes sense.”

“We can take it in turns, probably,” Eilis said, “those of us who stay behind, I mean. I don’t think it would be any different from any other set of chores, just like keeping the altar clean.”

“Will everyone be as willing as you, though, that’s my question,” Jones said.

“Perhaps that’s the price of deciding to stay behind,” Flynt said. “I myself am leaving, I think.”

Brigitte chimed in, “As is your right. You’ve been pestering us since yesterday and I’m sure you would have continued to do so in the future. Meanwhile, I think we’ll have to have a discussion about this, but that’s for us to decide. That is, if you’re giving us as much will as you say you are.”

“We will,” Jones agreed. “But, in the meantime…” He pushed his bowl away and stood up. “Thank you for the meal. It sounds like you have a mass of villagefolk to gather -- we’ll undoubtedly see you there and we’ll have made our decision by then.”


At The Turf Field Behind My Parents’ House

Gathering people in front of the new temple didn’t take too much effort. People were already talking about the building that had just sprung up out of nowhere, so they were already mostly gathered when everyone exited Flynt’s house, and of the few remaining stragglers, the first words out of their mouths were frequently, “Is this about that new temple-looking building?” and when their suspicions were confirmed, they came along readily.

Flynt made the first move, stepping onto the temple stairs and turning to look over the crowd. After confirming everyone who needed to hear the message was there, or at least coming up behind, he began to speak, his voice booming over all listeners even if he never appeared to be yelling. “You will have to forgive me,” he said. “Not only am I still one of the newer members of this community, I was only a mere stonecutter before that, more focused on my craft than on any sort of public speaking, so though I may have experience that perhaps some you may have even heard about, it is as old and rusty as I appear before you today. Instead of forcing you to listen to some long introduction, then, I will get straight to the point: We have reason to believe Mount Vermeer is a volcano, and that it is going to erupt sooner rather than later, perhaps even tomorrow.”

That caused a stir amongst the onlookers, a ripple in the crowd that Flynt allowed to play out before he continued. “Thankfully, that is why the gods have sent us these two watchdogs, and to match with that number, they have provided us with two solutions: The first is to flee, to evacuate. The ship they arrived on is more than willing to take any that wish, and it will be ready to leave tonight. The second option is this temple, calling on Dia, the progenitor of this island, to stand guard once again. The watchdogs will lead a dedication ceremony, and then it is up to those that remain to maintain it as best they are able.

“That is it, my friends. All I ask now is that you help with these watchdogs as best you are able in whatever they might require for this ceremony. The rest is up to you.”


OOC

Spoiler

Subtitles are songs by the band Giraffes? Giraffes!

The biggest announcement of course is one we've talked about already: it's the brief hiatus due to Hurricane Ida, so no rush on getting posts out until we're ready to continue. As for the post itself, though, I mean, I kind of already established what was going on already in discord, this is where the temple is dedicated, though you can also make any remarks you want to the crowd as well. If you need anyone specific from me to help out with the ceremony, let me know, but yeah, that's where things are at.

Stay safe out there,

-r

 

Edited by radio414

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During the Storm

After dinner (which somehow turned out to be a success, no doubt in thanks to Hinder guiding Olivander's hand over the meal) Flynt's house quickly emptied. Not shortly after, the village was bustling with whispers and gossip. A large gathering had already occurred outside Dia's new place of worship. Now seeing the temple with his own eyes for the first time, Olivander could understand why. The building was massive and had been erected in merely hours. The prowess of Taros was indeed impressive. Even Olivander could see the intricate detail and level of craftsmanship that went into the temple.

He let out a long whistle as he approached the temple. "Kitt, you've truly outdone yourself. This temple is a marvel. Well done mate."

The last of the village gathered at last which prompted Flynt to move.

He watched as Flynt approached the highest stair at the temple entrance, admiring the former watchdog's physique. "And of course you had the help of an equally talented follower of Taros," he said in what was practically a whisper. Olivander caught his jaw and scooped it up off the ground as Flynt drew the crowd's attention.

When he was done, Olivander could feel the eyes of the villagers going back and forth between himself and Kitt. He elected to make the next move and stepped forward to speak.

"A number of you probably don't know who I am. Who I am is not important. I'm a man who has been appointed by a god. That god has given me clear insight to this situation in which we are now all involved. This insight has led me to believe that you are all in danger. An impending eruption of the mountain--  no-- the volcano behind you, will leave nothing behind on Corpus.

As you have heard, thanks to my meddling, the Swallow Tail is prepared to help those of you who wish it to evacuate. It's Captain and crew have been working tirelessly to ensure it is ready to set sail.

However, we cannot force you to leave. Nor shall we. This is your home. My fellow watchdog believes that there is an alternative to save the island and protect it from doom. If you believe in his cause, then I encourage you to follow him and call upon Lord Dia."

As he finished, Olivander gestured to Kitt and took a step back. 

"The floor is yours my friend."

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Let Us Pray

"Kitt, you've truly outdone yourself. This temple is a marvel. Well done mate."

Kitt only gave Olivander a small smirk, before nodding at his comrade. "It was something only I could do...with Lord Taros simply moving through me." he said, before Flynt made his speech known to the people.

“That is it, my friends. All I ask now is that you help with these watchdogs as best you are able in whatever they might require for this ceremony. The rest is up to you.”

Once his former mentor spoke, he opened the floor towards the two of them...and of course, Olivander spoke forth first, as was customary for the Dog of Hinder. However, Kitt seemed to have his eyes closed, exhaling slowly through his nose. It seemed he was preparing himself to speak forth towards these people of Corpus...he wasn't sure how this would go...not in the slightest. But he knew, this was the thing only he could do...this temple was a gamble...

"The floor is yours my friend."

Kitt slowly opened his eyes and stepped forward to face the crowd. He was silent as the murmurs of the crowd continued among themselves. Finally the Watchdog of the Forge exhaled again, before speaking. "My name is Kitt Axton, Watchdog of the Great Forge Master, Taros...and like my friend..." he glanced back towards Olivander. Friend...that was the first time he called him that, wasn't it...? "Like he said, I believe that an alternative stance on this could be seen. I was told once about this island of Corpus...regaled with it's conception and it's history. How the spirit of the woman who fled and loveless marriage sought refuge within the sea and naught took pity on her save for Lord Dia. And it was by Dia's power that this island was raised from the ocean and gave the woman a refuge and place of her own...to where her spirit of survival thrived."

He paused, looking hard at the crowd. "You, the people of Corpus, have inherited that same surviving spirit...I've seen it first hand..." he said, spotting Old Man Jones in the crowd, namely referring to him. "Whatever storms of life threw at you...there was a survivalist instinct that had you continue on. And so to is this moment...Mount Vermeer is a volcano, make no mistake of that. As such, it most likely erupted a long time before now, long before any of us were walking the islands. Alas, those writings have been lost to time to find what the people in past generations have done to survive. But...in the midst of this, I bring a possible option." Kitt paused, shifting his stance and pointing at the temple itself. "A temple has been built to allow Lord Dia to dwell on Corpus once more...to allow her graces and good fortune to bless the island she helped create from the depths. People of Corpus, this is a moment to reconnect with Lord Dia...and in turn, make strong that same spirit of survival that you all inherited from that woman so long ago."

Kitt shifted himself again, before sighing. "There are two options here...and we will not tell you what you must do...as the gods have forged us with the strong concept of free will. We do as we please, whether right or whether wrong...there are two choices, you must take the first steps and decide for yourself what you will." He looked back towards the temple and nodded. "Now...allow me to work with officiating this temple and dedicating it to Lord Dia...the rest, will be up to those who stay on the island." Taking a deep breath, he began the dedication... Really wish Finn was here for this...

"Lord Dia! Goddess of Water, creator of the island of Corpus! We call to thee, offering this temple to thee to dwell in and do with what you will! You see the situation that these people are in, the people that have inherited the will and spirit of the woman you took pity on all those years ago...the very woman you provided this island to as a refuge. Turn your face to shine upon Corpus once more and continue to bless these people once again! Allow the architecture and designs of Taros in this temple to inspire you to show your favor to Corpus once more...show your will to them and allow them to see a brighter tomorrow, without the fear of Vermeer."

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Old Time

“Praise Dia!” the crowd echoed back. Some more enthusiastic than others, sure, but between the sudden revelation of their impending doom and the choice now put before each and every one of them, could anyone really blame them? There were a few awkward glances -- especially between those who lived in the same household -- as people continued to realize the gravity of their situation, though their attention returned to the front as Old Man Jones stepped forward.

Jones took a moment to survey the crowd himself before he spoke. “Those who wish to depart, we will think no less of you, and we will keep you in our prayers,” he said, “just as we hope you will do the same for us, for those who remain. In any case, I have been told the Swallow Tail will depart just before midnight, so there is ample time to make your decision and still pack what you need.

“Still, there is much for us all to do. Go now.”

Even if the order hadn’t come from the headman, people still had been looking for an excuse to do just as he said, and so that’s exactly what they did. Any discussion already starting was in hushed tones -- again, most families were deciding amongst themselves, though there were a few larger groups containing several. Somewhere, Kevin was talking loudly, “It’s about time. I’ve been looking for a way out for a while, you know? Honestly, even if there wasn’t a volcano going on I probably would have asked to hop along. Yes, I know you’ve lived here all your life, Aunt Heather, maybe if you sweep the temple steps real good you can keep doing that.”

Meanwhile, Flynt rejoined the two watchdogs. “Good job you two,” he said. “I know I said that before, but it’s worth saying again. I suppose now all we have to do is wait to see how many are joining us tonight.


Hand of God

The answer to Flynt’s implicit question (“How many people are joining us?”) was about half, it turned out. Half of all of Corpus was now standing in the dock area, bags all piled up, though that was swiftly becoming less obvious with the crew of the Swallow Tail loading bags onto the docks. The captain, meanwhile, was slowly going back and forth across the length of his ship answering any last-minute questions potential passengers might have had, something he probably would have continued to do until he spotted the ship’s two precious cargo (the watchdogs, of course) amongst the crowd.

“Just about ready to call all aboard,” he told the dogs. “Little bit ahead of schedule too, guess that means we really do’ve got the gods on our side.” He laughed, but his face returned to its default mostly serious nature pretty quickly. “Suppose that means this is a brief courtesy: is there anything else you need to do here? Anyone you need to talk to, any final advice? We’ll wait for you, of course, but I do have to know.”


OOC

Spoiler

Subtitles are songs from Nick Cave and Warren Ellis' album Carnage

What I want from you is pretty self-explanatory, I think. There are only a few things that really needs clarification: The first is that there was indeed another time skip in the section break there; it's nighttime now (you can imagine Helmsley holding up an old lantern if if that helps the mood). The other would be the list of people staying or going. Some of the named characters have already been mentioned: Flynt is leaving, Jones and Brigitte are staying. Kevin is definitely leaving, and Eilis is probably staying. The rest, well, that's what this post round is for if you so choose. Or you can just signal you're ready to board the ship, or you can leave some final instructions, or just about anything, really. There will be time enough for anything you choose -- I was a vague on the exact timeframe for a reason.

Again, the deadline is waived until I've been assured it's okay to put back up, so don't worry about that, and as always, I'll be around as much as I can to answer any other questions you might have.

Stay safe,

-r

 

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Unfinished Business

“Good job you two,” he said.

Those were the words that Olivander almost fell to his knees for. Though Flynt continued to talk, Olivander couldn't hear him. He was too busy ogling the words of praise he received from the handsome man in front of him. It was almost strange considering the circumstances, but it felt good to receive something this important (to him) from Flynt. Eventually Olivander came out of his trance and sighed happily.

"Thanks," he finally managed to say with a smile. "I'm going to check in with Helmsley and make sure I'm not forgetting anything. I trust you to do the same, Flynt."


Aboard the Swallow Tail, Olivander finally convened with Helmsley. Olivander moved through the large portion of Corpus that seemed to be aboard the ship until he was finally face to face with its Captain.

“Just about ready to call all aboard,” Captain Helmsley said. Olivander only nodded in response. “Little bit ahead of schedule too, guess that means we really do’ve got the gods on our side.”

Olivander smirked as the Captain laughed. "Well, I guess this gamble paid off. Praise be to Hinder."

“Suppose that means this is a brief courtesy: is there anything else you need to do here? Anyone you need to talk to, any final advice? We’ll wait for you, of course, but I do have to know.”

Olivander rubbed his chin as he looked around the ship. He slowly let his eyes fall through the crowd of people when he realized someone was missing. His heart began to race and his eyes grew wide with horror. "The boys! David and Pfeifer! I have to find them!"

Olivander's legs carried him faster than the thought could reach his brain. Panicked, he began sprinting through people, literally. He called out their names as if they were his own children. They had become important to him, and Olivander wasn't sure why. "David!? Pfeifer!?" It was unusual for him to form such quick attachments, considering that he was a thief. When thinking of all the things that Olivander really kept with him, all the people he had traveled with, all of the souls he turned over to Hinder, these were suddenly the most important. And until he was two-hundred percent certain that they were aboard the Swallow Tail, he would not allow it to leave. With every bit of his power and every fiber of his being, he would not let David and Pfeifer stay behind. The risk was too great, and his heart wouldn't let him move on without them.

His screams became painful as he continued his search. "DAVID!? PFEIFER!?"

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Chase

“Just about ready to call all aboard. Little bit ahead of schedule too, guess that means we really do’ve got the gods on our side. Suppose that means this is a brief courtesy: is there anything else you need to do here? Anyone you need to talk to, any final advice? We’ll wait for you, of course, but I do have to know.”

Kitt was about to say something, but Olivander went off mentioning about David and Pfeifer, both of which were currently no where to be seen. Not a wonder why Hinder's Dog was searching for them...for the day (or rather two) they've been there, he had bonded with those two children quite a bit. Then again, he wondered about why he bonded with them so closely. It didn't seem...normal...then again, Hinder worked in ways he knew not.

"...damnit Olive..." Kitt sighed, before looking at Helmsley. "I'll work on getting him back. Just keep doing what your doing sir...and Flynt, you help him. It'll keep you out of trouble!" he said with a sly smirk, before making his way after Olivander...who already had an IMMENSE lead on him.

Still...it's unlike him or rather, any Dog of Hinder to have an attachment and bond with someone like this...let alone with children. Kitt thought, chasing after Olivander. There probably was something more to this in the long run...there had to be, at least in his mind. Why else would he throw caution to the wind just to go after these two boys?

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One Very Important Thought

David, it turned out, was not very far off. Having been forewarned about the coming catastrophe by a few hours, David’s family was actually one of the ones closest to the Swallow Tail, camping out by the ship with their belongings waiting for the go-ahead to finally board the ship. Someone nearby said something about hearing a rumbling from the volcano but David’s mom shut that down quickly. “Someone said they heard Flynt say it can’t happen today,” she said. “Tomorrow, maybe, but we should be out of here by then. Didn’t you see the captain talking with those watchdogs? And you’re basically first in line anyway.”

It was weird, like, he was too old to get scared, but David did feel like a version that could get scared wouldn’t be even by the thought of losing his home. It was different from the feeling in Mount Vermeer’s cave tunnel, like, he wasn’t scared then either, but there it was a physical thing to be scared of and this one was, well, he wasn’t sure how to describe it, but his safety had been promised, and he had the coin to prove it, so maybe that was the reason he wasn’t scared.

“David! Pfeifer!”

The watchdog’s cry snapped David out of his mood, and he instead started looking towards the noise looking for its source. “Over here!” he said, waving his arms above his head to get their attention. When they were closer, he stopped. “Well, one of us is, at least. I dunno where Pfeifer got off to after, uh, probably after the ceremony, but he was all packed, right? I know when we saw you he had that bag with him. He should be fine, though. He’s just with his family I gue- oh.”

The realization hit David like an erupting volcano. “Oh yeah. Pfeifer’s probably with his family,” he said. “Old Man Jones is his grandpa, and Old Man Jones is staying behind.” He didn’t know what else to say. Had they even said goodbye? And they were boarding soon -- his mom had said so.

Well, there was nothing for it, then. David took off back towards the headman’s house, ignoring his parents’ calls to “get back here this instant” or whatever they were saying. They could watch his stuff. This was important.


OOC

Spoiler

Subtitle is a Boards of Canada song.

What Olive's expected to do next is pretty self-evident, I think (though, as always, I'm around to take questions if need be), though I will say I'd like to get the talking with Jones done in like a post or two, just as a pacing concern, so let me know when you're posting to get lines from me. Kitt, meanwhile, can probably spot the kid running off and divert to going to the headman's house if you want, or just leave this to Olive and find some other unfinished business, or just not post for the round. If it's the last one, keep me in the loop, obviously.

Speaking of rounds, I'm reinstating the one-week reminder deadline, so be on the lookout for that.

Stay safe,

-r

 

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Hard Decisions

Finding David was simple, but still a huge weight off Olivander's shoulders.

“Over here!” David called.

Olivander turned on the spot and dashed over to the young man, sweeping him off his feet with a big hug. "I'm glad you're alright," Olivander said, trying to stop himself from sobbing.

“Well, one of us is, at least. I dunno where Pfeifer got off to after, uh, probably after the ceremony, but he was all packed, right? I know when we saw you he had that bag with him. He should be fine, though. He’s just with his family I gue- oh. Pfeifer’s probably with his family," David said.

"His family? Are they... staying?" Olivander asked, trying not to panic.

“Old Man Jones is his grandpa, and Old Man Jones is staying behind," David added.

Olivander's face flushed with fear and rage. "C'mon then. We have to go and get your better half."

Olivander's mind was made up. He wasn't leaving without David and Pfeifer. He wouldn't take no for an answer. With David on his heels, Olivander made his way to Old Man Jones' house.


He knocked calmly, despite the chill down his spine. "Mr. Jones. It's Olivander. I'm coming inside," he announced loudly. It didn't matter to Olivander if he had found the Old Man stark naked and lying with a goat. He was going to go into his home, get Pfeifer, and get out. That was all there was to it. "I know we're not on the best of grounds, but I'd like to talk to you," he said as he entered Jones' home without permission.

"I realize I'm not making my case much better by barging into your home in a potential time of crisis when you're with your family. I'm very sorry. But there's something on my heart that I cannot leave without taking care of," Olivander said, his heart beating out of his chest. "I'd like to take Pfeifer with me," he said with one more breath after crossing the threshold. With a sigh, he kept his head down and continued talking without leaving room for interruption. His eyes on the ground, his head bowed, he went on.

"I know that he's your grandson and that his safety is your ultimately your decision. I'm not in the business of breaking up happy homes and I'm not here to fracture your life. If this volcano doesn't erupt, I'll use all of my power to return Pfeifer to your home post-haste. I can guarantee his safety with my abilities and I will not allow harm to come to him under my care. So finally, please let me beseech you: please allow Pfeifer to be in my care until we are all certain that this disaster is over or has been avoided," he said, fighting back tears. He fell to a knee and waited for Jones to scold him.

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Sidetracked

It wouldn't be long before Kitt finally saw Olivander again...but at the same time he saw a certain kid running off in the same direction Hinder's Dog was: it was David. And it made sense on where they were running off to...the direction of Old Man Jones' home. Always ends up with this, huh? he thought, in regards to things ending up at that abode since they're time here.

While following after the pair, still a ways away, he passed by a young adult woman who seemed to be arguing with an older woman. Kitt, naturally, couldn't hear the initial argument and conversation due to his focus being solely on trying to get Olive back to the Swallow Tail, buuuuuuut as fate would have it...his focus would be cut rather abruptly. The young woman seemed to basically throw herself right in front of Kitt, which immediately caused him to hit the brakes on his stride and stop suddenly, as to not run right into the woman.

"So, question -- oh, sorry, you looked busy but this is important too -- question: You really believe this temple will keep Mount Vermeer at bay, right? I know that sounds silly since you built the thing and all, but I do have to ask." she asked simply.

"Oh uh..." Kitt cleared his throat, seeing Olivander and David start to get farther and farther away. ...I suppose this is something only he should be doing then. Just don't do anything stupid, Olive... he thought, before finally returning to focus on the young woman. "Yes ma'am. I believe that it will keep it at bay, so long as the people of Corpus will be willing to reach to Dia, which I believe they definitely will."

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Some Of Us

One of the women looked satisfied with Kitt’s answer, though it wasn’t the one who had posed the question. “He believes it, and I can believe it too,” the older woman said. “Sorry, Dee, but if one of the options on the table is my home, the house your father and I built together, that is the one I am going to choose. You understand that, right?”

The younger woman -- the one who had stopped Kitt in the first place -- wheeled back around to face her elder. “Either option, that house isn’t going to stay up for too much longer, Ma! Your choice isn’t whether that happens or not, your choice is whether or not you die in it.”

“I agree, it’s a difficult choice, choosing how to die,” the older woman said. “Either I’m going to die in an unfamiliar environment -- remember, dear, nobody is really sure where that ship is going besides ‘away from here’ -- or I’m watching my daughter fly away from me and dying all alone.”

“That’s not fair -”

“No, no it’s not fair. You’re right. Well, if Dia truly protects us from Mount Vermeer, as that watchdog believes it will, you can come back and visit. I certainly wouldn’t mind that. And, in the meantime, well, I’ll be sure to leave a cup of water at the temple in your honor, hm? Say a prayer for me at the first altar you see.”

The younger woman’s shoulders slumped. Before, it seemed like she was just turning her focus away from Kitt and towards her mother, now she was refusing to look away. “I’m not going to convince you,” she said. “And the boat’s just about to leave. Alright.” She said it again. “Alright. Maybe if I had another day or something I could have convinced you, but not now. Or maybe you would have convinced me. Either way, it’s too late.”

The young woman embraced her mother. “Love you, Ma. We’ll see each other again, I’m sure.”

After all that was over, she turned back to Kitt. “I admit it wasn’t the answer I wanted, but thank you for your time all the same.”


Straws In The Wind

Headman Jones did not say anything at first, and when he did, it was not to the watchdog in front of him but to Brigitte. “I’m afraid, my dear, that I must foist the responsibility of separating this child from his family onto you. However, if you mention that this watchdog decrees it, I am sure my daughter will have less resistance than she otherwise -- understandably -- might have.”

Brigitte nodded solemnly, got up from her chair, and left without a word. She did not shift her glare from Olive even as she passed him and left the room.

Jones continued speaking as soon as she had left. “I am sparing you, you understand, the turmoil of actually doing the thing you have mandated. I do not expect you to thank me for this. Quite honestly, I expect that as soon as I finish speaking, perhaps even before then, you are going to leap up from your knees and threaten to destroy me or my family some more. Until then, though, I would ask you to understand the gravity of what you have just requested.

“That being said, I do not know what journey you are on, nor do I particularly care to know. There are many reasons I can think of where I might have to beg your forgiveness in this case, and I will if you insist on it. I suppose the best way to put these fears to rest is this question: Do you believe, wholly and truly, that this temple dedicated to this island’s creator will protect us from harm? I certainly do, even if half of the watchdogs on this island do not seem to share my feelings. If you did, and my interpretation of things is correct, you would not be taking my grandson from me.”

Headman Jones was leaning forward in his seat now, bracing himself even further on his cane. “I suppose, then, all I can tell you is this: even if you forget me, even if you forget this place, remember that belief is vital to the world. Belief in the gods is what gives you your authority, but beyond that, this island wouldn’t have survived for as long as it has without the community’s collective belief in itself.”

Brigitte returned, bringing Pfeifer in tow. The boy still had his bag, still packed from when he and David had been warned first of all Corpus’ inhabitants and gotten a head start on packing, though his face was, well, his eyes weren’t quite bloodshot, but they were a serious sort of acceptance. David actually came up right behind them and started poking and prodding at Pfeifer trying to get him to respond. For a moment, it actually looked like Pfeifer was going to say something important, but he locked eyes with Olive and instead just said, “Maybe tomorrow, David.”

“Go,” Headman Jones said. “Perhaps the island will still be standing when you return. You will, of course, be welcomed with open arms when that time comes, but it cannot be now.”


If Not Now, Then When?

The watchdogs had given their assent, and the final calls were let out, starting from Helmsley standing by the entrance and then slowly rippling out into the crowd. Thankfully, the assurance that there was no rush, that the volcano could not erupt today, kept everyone in check, so even as they pressed up near the entrance, even as midnight’s darkness approached ever closer, there was still much less jostling than one might have expected. Still, Flynt prevented everyone from boarding for one final moment. He had a prayer to intone for the safety of the ship, and of its passengers in face of the storm that surrounded the island.

He looked over the crowd, then looked up to the dark, cloudy sky, and began:

“Dies, Our Lady of the Sky, listen!
To what your humble servants seek of you
We ask for safest travels far and wide
We ask for storms to let us safely through 
And in return, we offer this -- our faith
We pledge that we will be your servants too.”

Flynt shifted his gaze back down, back to out amongst the people gathered before him. “Alright everybody,” he said. “Let’s get out of here.”


Notes from Captain Helmsley’s Logbook

There are two notes I would like to make in regards to our departure from Corpus. One is more specific to the journey of the ship, so I will write that first:

I admit I was trepidatious as the Swallow Tail approached the storm that had grounded her less than twenty-four hours beforehand. Even with all our preparations, with the repairs and the makeshift reinforcements, with everything checked and double-checked, it still felt like we were breaking some sort of sailor taboo. It felt like the sin of Pride to attempt the same storm, is what it was. The crew was uneasy as well. Still, we had the passengers and cargo below deck just in case. At the very least, we could have limped to an uninhabited rock of an island close by and began signalling for help.

All this preparation and worry was for naught, however, because when our clocks hit midnight, a large flash of lightning, so bright it nearly blinded me for a few seconds after seeing it, and a similarly deafening thunderclap roared across the ship. I am sure they could have heard such a roar even back on Corpus. Then, just as suddenly, the storm opened up! The clouds parted and, soon after, dissipated entirely, and all that was left in the sky were stars.

This would be cause for celebration enough, but now we are getting into my second note. It turns out the stroke of midnight has signaled a crewmember’s birthday. Finlay has turned twenty-five and good for him! I’m given to understand he even felt like he’d been waiting for this celebration for a while. The chef has even whipped up a cake real quick! I should probably put my pen down and go celebrate with everyone. After that, I suppose we’ll set a course for a welcoming island and continue on from there.


OOC

Spoiler

Subtitles are from King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard songs

And that's it! That's the end of Corpus (the arc, not the island lol). I hope you enjoyed it. There will be a discussion post similar to the end of the last arc in discord about things you would like me to think about for Andalou, the third and technically final major arc of this RP (there is a finale planned after that as well), so be on the lookout for that tomorrow. In the meantime, again, just like last time, I would like your characters to reflect on your actions and on the island as a whole. What do you think the future holds for Corpus, or those who have fled it?

Also also like last time, the next host post will be no earlier than October 11th as I get things set up. Happy posting, thanks for the journey so far, and good luck out there.

-r


 

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Corpus Reflections

What was truly to say about Corpus? What COULD be said about this island? In truth, it was no Galatea, that was for sure. What do I mean about that, allow me to explain. On Corpus, there was no cult issue...there was no illness that turned the populace to stone...there was no Religious Council that would hinder the work of the gods or even deal with these "words of power"...the language of the gods...oh that is a different story all together...

While Corpus is completely different than Galatea in more than one sense in a good manner, it's goods are outweighed by the bads. Corpus...an island that Dia rose from the depths of the seas in showing compassion and mercy to a runaway woman who left a loveless marriage...an island, unfortunately, that was a volcanic island. Rather than dealing with a simple cult occupying the dwellings of the various gods, the gods decided to have us meet with dealing with a volcanic island...along with a new word of power: E͘xǫlv̵u͞ǹt͘u̢ŕ, the Law of Cycles. A reset button to be utilized by the speaker, from what I gather...to reset the day's events, same time, disrupting the balance the gods themselves have set in motion. This was the word my mentor, Flynt, spoke to us. Alas, all he told me was that he heard this as if it were carried on the westward winds...almost provided for him. Upon further reflection, maybe by Taros' own enlightening, perhaps this was the one time that the gods wished for one of their words to be provided and used. It so happened that Flynt, no longer a Watchdog to the Master Forger, was wanting power once again...perhaps they deemed him worthy of the vessel to carry this word...perhaps I jumped the gun in reprimanding my mentor in this fashion. Perhaps the gods wished for the Watchdogs to take action before it was too late...I just hope what we did was enough.

Dividing the people of Corpus...one half leaving and fleeing the island, via Olivander's plan...and the other simply remaining on the island but dealing with the thought of the volcano erupting at any point in time, only relying on Dia's divine help and calling out to her once more in the temple I built...neither was right...neither was wrong...we did what we thought was the correct answer, and that's all there is.

Though, drawing my thoughts to a close...I will say...I almost lost myself. The Dog of Hinder, Olivander, spoke in such a manner...that almost made me give in to an emotion I haven't had going for me since the beginning of my tenure as Taros' Dog: anger and with it rage. To this extent, never before have I experienced something this terrible. Perhaps this is something that Hinder's Dogs can do...the words they carry is a secondary dagger...when the physical one will not work, the hidden one shall cut their prey to ribbons. If I didn't immediately meditate...the island surely would've become a battleground between Taros and Hinder...a thought I wish not to think of. Perhaps our next destination will hold something to where this shall no longer be anything I need to concern myself with...maybe...I pray that is the case...that this in-fighting between myself and Olivander ceases for good.

Kitt lowered his pen, looking at his journal entry before simply closing the notebook and slipping it back into his bag. Soon he'd have to go mingle with the others to celebrate Finlay's 25th...otherwise he was sure Olivander and Flynt would both drag him out to do so. Taking initiative now would probably be best...the next island, he hoped, would bring fortune to both parties.

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Party Pooper

When Corpus was no longer in view, Olivander felt relieved at first. He was glad that it wouldn't be the first thing on his mind. As the hours passed, however, he began to feel guilty. He also recognized that, regardless of the outcome, he would be responsible in some fashion. These thoughts would continue to weigh on his mind for some time, causing him to sit idly in his room without leaving, often for days at a time. He fell into a mental state of agony that he struggled to escape, even when he slept. Often times, his mind would drift to even darker places, where things would get worse.

"Maybe I should've stayed behind... "

"If the mountain erupts, at least I'd answer for it in death."

"I've doomed those people. It's only right that I suffer too."

The weight of the dagger in his pocket was often easily ignored. Recently, however, it felt very heavy. As he placed his hand over the handle and gripped it tightly, he placed the flat side of the steel against his cheek. It was cold. It felt good. It felt real. At least he was feeling something. Sometimes he wondered if he handed over the dagger to Kitt if he would honor his final wishes. Those thoughts left as quickly as they arrived, but were replaced by feelings of taking the action into his own hands. He sighed, exasperated, and threw his arms out wide over his bed. He moved too fast and drew the dagger from his cheek too quickly, leaving a crude, noticeable gash under his left eye. He didn't wince or grimace as his face was sliced open. He barely blinked. The blood trickling down his face tickled his cheek and annoyed him. The annoyance quickly turned to anger. The anger quickly turned to rage.

Without thinking, he turned over rapidly and tossed the dagger with all his might into the outside wall of his room. It landed with a muddied thud as it sank into the wood of the ship. The worst part about all of this was that Olivander had no idea how to process his emotions. He didn't have a healthy way to deal with whatever it was that was haunting him and he was sure that wouldn't change. He turned over with his back to his door and allowed his face to bleed into his pillow. As he stared out of the port window into the clouds, he thought about why he was along this journey.

He couldn't remember.

He didn't want to.

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Gotterdammerung_Cover_2.jpg

OUR dearest Muse, please hear our cries for help
Wherever you may be, we hope you know
Despite our actions, we are but mere whelps
Unable to escape the ruin you sow
-- Song for the End of the World, lines 9-12


Notes From Captain Helmsley’s Logbook

Ephraim had the idea to take our additional passengers to the island of Nieuw, with the rationalization that it was sufficiently distant from any potential volcano eruption, was with resources to help rebuild a community, and close enough to trade routes (that is to say, only a little further than Corpus was already) to not be completely isolated. I suppose the gods really do provide when we really need them to. I also would like to remark on how smooth the disembarking process was -- it was certainly much smoother than many I have run before, even with much fewer passengers. It seems everyone was eager to start their new lives.

I normally don’t include the goodbyes of everyone who might know or care about the watchdogs we transport as they leave, but I feel it prudent to do so now -- call it a sailor’s intuition. Flynt’s was shorter (and thus easier to remember): he said goodbye to me and reminded me of the meal he owed me and then turned to Kitt and said only, “Will we see each other again? I suppose either way, you can look to the horizon and think of this place and that will be enough. Farewell, Kitt Axton, watchdog of Taros. Remember what I taught you -- all of it -- and good luck.”

Some children came up to say goodbye to Olive as well. Through the course of those two chattering amongst themselves, I was able to pick up on their names, but only just. Eventually, David got to the point: “I have to go unpack now, but I suppose if I ever need you again I still have that coin you gave me, right? So now you’ll have to visit again!” or something along those lines.

Pfeifer, meanwhile, waited until David had run off to do that before adding, “He better keep me company. I’ve still got a lot to think about, and though he probably won’t understand any of it, I mean, neither do I, right? Anyway, don’t worry. I still remember what you told me.”

We left them, then, to their process of rebuilding; it was time to move onwards. West again, and only that instruction, our only recourse being that there isn’t much more west one can sail. I was the one that made the decision to sail to Andalou, then, It’s the furthest west inhabited island one can go to. My understanding is that it was once the capital of Naviim, but that is pre-apocalypse lore. I wouldn’t say any island is the capital now, especially with the state some of these places have fallen, Andalou especially. There must be some newer buildings amongst the dilapidated ruins of the old world, but they don’t particularly stand out amongst the rubble. 

Still, if the gods wanted us to fly anywhere else, they should have been more specific. They wanted west? Here it is.


Tthhee Ppaarrttyy

They had arrived too late to make landing at Andalou’s dock feasible, which had already put Helmsley in a bad mood even if there wasn’t really anything to blame it on. Helmsley still paced the deck all the same. There wasn’t much else to do. Much of the crew had already gone to bed, and when he had tried to do the same there was a ghostly wind hitting the broadside of the ship that left sleep impossible.

Helmsley shivered. Even when the wind had died down, its aftereffects still remained. It was getting colder, and his current nightclothes were doing little to protect his old bones, which were starting to ache with every step. He made his way over to the rail and looked down over Andalou. What he had recorded in his logbook was more or less accurate; though from high up, he could see the newer, more habitable buildings among the old fallen-apart structures of old Naviim, perhaps as well because those were the buildings with any light coming from them. The description didn’t suit him, though. Something was off, and while it was against his normal habit, he wondered exactly what the gods had sent the watchdogs here to do.

Any such musings further on the subject were interrupted when he heard a slight *phumff* coming from the island. Finding the source was easy -- it was a bright point of light, ejected from the island and now arcing through the sky. It took another moment for Helmsley to realize what that meant.

“Reverse engines!” he yelled. “Hard starboard!”

He thanked the gods as the engineers proved less groggy than he was as the Swallow Tail lurched back, just narrowly avoiding the firework, which exploded, turning the single point of brilliant white light into several and created a shockwave that, again, thankfully, the makeshift repairs took surprisingly well. Not that all this good news did any real work on the captain’s mood. “Ruffians! What sort of blithering bombardier sends a firework up at a ship?!”

He looked back over down at Andalou and spat. More fireworks were flying up, and though none of them were expressly pointed their way like the first one was, he still swore again. “You hear me, you cushion-footed quadrupeds? Just wait ‘til I get down there and give you a real piece of my mind!”


Our Song

The watchdogs had bigger things to worry about, however. Even in their sleep, they had to worry about me.

Flynt described exǫlv̵u͞ǹt͘u̢ŕ as “arriving to him on the winds,” and I suppose he’s not entirely wrong. It would feel like a brief shock of cold wind to anyone not paying attention -- to anyone who I didn’t want to hear. No one ever seems to think about who might have given their word of power to them. Nobody ever wonders who said the word first. Then again, perhaps I prefer it that way.

I’ve had my eye on these two for a while. I know the reason for their travels, even if they do not yet. It’s finally time to give them a taste as well. It feels shameful to interrupt whatever sweet, sweet dreams they must be having, but I still lean in and whisper into their ears a single word:

ca͢n̷t҉icųm̕ad ͝ ̷ 

Again, like with Flynt and even like with Simon before him, to hear a word I provide is to know what it does. Ca͢n̷t҉icųm̕ad ͝ ̷  is the first word in a sentence that, when spoken, will finish what the last apocalypse could not. It is the first word in a sentence that will end the world.


Ricky

His full name was Richard Campion but everyone called him Ricky. Everyone on the docks did, anyway, and that was everyone he really talked to. Eventually, he just started introducing himself as that, embracing the nickname entirely.

The day wasn’t set to be too busy for him -- trade ships sometimes didn’t reach out all the way to Andalou so even a normal day wasn’t “too busy,” and even by those standards, there really was only the one ship patiently waiting to make port as everyone arrived. Maybe more would come later, maybe not.

It turned out the captain was not actually the patient sort as he got off the ship first and headed straight for Ricky with just the worst look on his face. “Where is the dockmaster?” the captain said. “It’d be best for you if you told me quickly. I need to lodge a complaint. Who knows what might have happened if the ship’s cargo got damaged?”

Ricky pointed a finger towards a makeshift office, a shack near the landside edge of the dock, though he couldn’t keep it from shaking under the captain’s glare. “That way, unless he wasn’t as worn out as he normally is.”

“Ah, so he was awake then too! All the better,” the captain said, and marched off, leaving Ricky and a few others to assist with the rest of securing the boat -- the Swallow Tail, a familiar name, Ricky observed -- to the docks.

He yawned. He was worn out too, though he had gotten better at hiding it. Certainly, he was awake enough to think about the ship a bit more as well. “Swallow Tail,” he mumbled to himself as he fastened a rope. “Does that mean the ‘cargo’ he’s talking about is more…”

Ricky’s question was answered by simply looking up and seeing the two men leave the ship. He still finished the sentence, though. “Watchdogs.” And, as he thought about it a bit more, “Hey, watchdogs, over here! Hey, welcome to Andalou! What’s your business?”


OOC

Spoiler

Ricky // Subtitles are songs either by or featuring Uffie

Here we go! As Helmsley writes, there isn't much more west you can go from here -- this is the final major arc I have planned out, though, as I am starting to try and tie things more concisely into the finale, this island itself will probably be a little bit shorter? I don't know, you haven't seemed concerned with the length or anything, and I've certainly underestimated how long some things will take in the past, but, well, you'll probably understand what I mean in a round or two when more of what's going on shows up.

In the meantime, well, I'm sure you have a lot to react about, whether that's dreams, final goodbyes, being whispered a word of power, or waking up to the nearby explosion. Let me know if you need anything else from that intervening time, but Ricky is ready and waiting.

-r

 

Edited by radio414

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Business as Usual

The night of the party, Olivander had waited until most everyone was asleep and casually utilized his god-given abilities to raid the kitchen. He had been so busy brooding in his room that the only reason he knew he was hungry was because of the obnoxious grumbling that came from his torso. With an agitated groan and an uninterested, "fine", he got up and waded through walls until he reached the kitchen. He took small portions of whatever he could fine and loaded a single plate with a smorgasbord of dishes before slinking back to his room. There, he stuffed his face, still sitting miserably on his bed.

He finished the meal with a slice of cake which finally made him feel something other than the cloud over his head.

"... that's pretty good." Despite how long ago the party had ended, the cake retained its moisture and fluffiness. It spoke to the talent of the baker. At last, Olivander fell asleep with the tiniest amount of satisfaction.


The time seemed to fly by rapidly, and before Olivander knew it, David and Pfeifer were departing the Swallow Tail. The length he spent in his room seemed to swallow any sense of time he had, as the sun would rise and set without him ever noticing it.

He hadn't taken note of the island they landed on, but it was time for him to say his goodbyes to the two young lads he had come to care for, and even love like his own siblings.

“I have to go unpack now, but I suppose if I ever need you again I still have that coin you gave me, right? So now you’ll have to visit again!”

Olivander nodded, finally smiling after who only knows how long. "I look forward to seeing you again, David."

Then, there was Pfeifer. Of the two boys, Olivander felt he personally grew closer to Pfeifer than David, despite his love for them both.

“He better keep me company. I’ve still got a lot to think about, and though he probably won’t understand any of it, I mean, neither do I, right? Anyway, don’t worry. I still remember what you told me.”

Olivander stopped Pfeifer before he turned his back, and shook the young man's hand. "Pfeifer. I trust you. It's been a pleasure to get to know you. I truly look forward to seeing how you grow."

As the boys departed, the slightest of tears escaped Olivander, stinging his scarred face. He didn't wince, but his smile grew bigger still. They were good kids, and he was thinking only the best for them. Still lingering in the back of his mind was the promise he made to Pfeifer. He wouldn't forget it. He only hoped he never had to act on it.


Even later still as time traveled like a rushing river, Olivander lost track of things once more. His mind still lingered on Corpus and what happened to it. It would be some time before he actually knew what became of it. The thing that got him to shake himself awake was the sudden lurching of the ship as it took a hard turn in the sky. Then, a thunderous boom not far off. His body immediately reacted and he was out of his room faster than even he could perceive. He made his way to the deck outside with his mind racing, thinking only the worst.

"Are we under attack!?" Olivander belted out loud.

Fortunately, this time, Olivander was wrong. A brilliant display of color in the night sky gave him a sigh of relief. "... fireworks. Hell on highwater, that is not what I thought it was," he exclaimed to himself. "Must've dodged one. Helmsley is probably pissed."

Finally showing his face to the Captain again, Olivander found the Captain... swearing? If you could call it that. It was clear however that Helmsley was irate. As Olivander listened to the older man rant and rave at the "blithering bombadier" as he called them, he couldn't help but stifle a laugh. He was right to be angry, but seeing the Captain in this state only made Olivander want to roll over, clutching his stomach with joy as he laughed.

“You hear me, you cushion-footed quadrupeds? Just wait ‘til I get down there and give you a real piece of my mind!”

Olivander wiped a tear from his face as he cried this time from joy. Things were returning to "normal" and this was to be expected.


Upon landing, Captain Helmsley stormed off immediately to find the responsible parties for nearly destroying his ship. Kitt and Olivander were instead greeted by the gentleman who pointed Helmsley in the right direction.

“Hey, watchdogs, over here! Hey, welcome to Andalou! What’s your business?”

Olivander sighed. He didn't like to think he could go nowhere and only be on a mission. He was overwhelmed and stressed almost immediately. Though, that came with the territory and he knew it. He quickly regained his composure and addressed the person before him.

"Thank you for the welcome. I can't say I quite know just yet why the gods have led us here, but I'm sure in a matter of hours we will indeed be made aware. For now, I'm going to explore Andalou. Alone."

He didn't wait for a response. Instead, he just walked away and into the heart of the island to see what awaited him. His intent was to be a silent observer for now.

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Been a Long Time Coming Pt 1

“Will we see each other again? I suppose either way, you can look to the horizon and think of this place and that will be enough. Farewell, Kitt Axton, watchdog of Taros. Remember what I taught you -- all of it -- and good luck.”

It felt like Kitt was saying farewell and leaving Caminus all over again. Except there was a difference this time...he was a bit older and wiser now. He had done quite a bit of Taros' will and now, once again, he found himself standing before his mentor and being put to say farewell once more.

The young blacksmith Watchdog was silent, quite solemn in his stature as his eyes were closed. The ideas and thoughts he had on the venture to this second island still weighed heavily on his mind. The fact that a second word of power was spoken...and by his own mentor's lips. How he kept Corpus in a sort of limbo state… Despite all of this, however, Kitt could only crack a small smile. He looked at his former mentor, his forge fire still burning within his eyes.

"As you said, Flynt...no one knows if we'll see each other again. Truth be told, I hope to Taros we do." Kitt said with a firm nod. "After all, perhaps next time we won't have a word get in the way of things and actually have a true reunion." He extended a hand to his former mentor who took it and returned the grip. "Stay well, Flynt...I'll keep your teaches close to me as if it were a blade. And may the Forge Master sharpen you and the path you walk daily."

Nothing more to be said...for better or worse, Flynt was Kitt's mentor and friend. Like he said before, nothing would change his general viewpoint of him. And what was next? Well...Kitt knew westward was way he was to go...and westward he would go.


Been a Long Time Coming Pt 2

Andalou...it was a nice place...if it wasn't shooting fireworks at them like they were trying to stop a foreign invader.

But that's getting ahead of things. Kitt wasn't prepared for that, not at all...but he also wasn't prepared for one other thing: the whispers within his slumber. Like his mentor before him with the Law of Cycles, Kitt too heard a whisper within the wind of a word...ca͢n̷t҉icųm̕ad ͝ ̷...unfortunately he couldn't dwell on it much as the explosion sounds stirred the Forge Dog from his slumber.

It was so terrible, that it made Kitt rush out to the deck, sword in hand, preparing to attack. Until he was told and noticed it was simply fireworks...sighs of relief escaped his lips. Still...now I suppose I can focus on that...word… he thought, rummaging in his bag and writing the word down. As he did, well...the meaning came to his mind. Ca͢n̷t҉icųm̕ad ͝ ̷  is the first word in a sentence that, when spoken, will finish what the last apocalypse could not. It is the first word in a sentence that will end the world. He shuddered at this revelation, looking at it and the other words on this page. Three words written down on the same page...this wasn't good. Not good...at...all...


"Hey, watchdogs, over here! Hey, welcome to Andalou! What’s your business?”

"Thank you for the welcome. I can't say I quite know just yet why the gods have led us here, but I'm sure in a matter of hours we will indeed be made aware. For now, I'm going to explore Andalou. Alone."

Unusual behavior from Olivander but then again, the Dog of Hinder had his methods and his manners of how to handle things...this was one of em, he supposed. "Please excuse my friend there." Kitt said with a smile, looking back towards Ricky. "Kitt Axton, Watchdog of Taros. As stated, the gods led us here for a reason, but what it is, we aren't aware of it yet. That said, I suppose I should ask you, is there anything happening around the island that you know of currently? Be it good or bad…"

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Silent Nightmares

Olivander absorbed the sights and smells around him silently. The thunderous boom of the fireworks drew his attention at first, even causing him to grin. He'd never seen fireworks before. He wondered how they worked and why they sounded like small volcanic eruptions. Some of them exploded in vibrant colors, lighting up the night sky in a brilliant display that captured his eye. For a moment, Olivander felt at peace. A child-like wonder entered his mind as he continued to repress all of the things that hurt so much. Unfortunately for Olivander, however, he couldn't repress them forever.

He was suddenly overcome with a raging headache that caused him to wince and grasp at his temples. Olivander stumbled, falling to the ground as he was taken by surprise by this headache. He managed to stand again, but his head was being wracked with pain, sharp, pinching sensations ran across his temples while the rest of his head thumped like some of the beds of his past lovers. Some stopped and stared at him, but Olivander could only focus on the pain in his head. The sounds of the fireworks around him made things much worse, and Olivander suddenly longed for silence. He tried to focus his abilities to create a field of silence around himself, but the suffering he endured made it impossible to control his powers. Though it caused no physical damage, what should've been a concentrated, five meter wide bubble of silence instead erupted into a massive fifty meter bubble around him. Olivander continued to writhe on the ground as he tried to get a grip.

Then, in the midst of the silence, a whisper came to Olivander's mind.

"... ca͢n̷t҉icųm̕ad ͝ ̷ ."

Olivander should not have been able to hear the word, but he did. The bubble retracted and disappeared as Olivander finally managed to crawl to his feet. His head still pounding, he moved toward a dark alley. He slumped beside an empty barrel and curled into a ball before passing out.

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Party In A Forest (Where’s Laura?)

Ricky took a moment to recalibrate as both watchdogs responded to his question each in their own way, a way that left him with only really talking to one of them by the end of it. The gods truly were inscrutable in their methods, he thought. Then, to the one remaining dog -- Kitt of Taros, as they introduced themselves -- he said, “Well, hey, I mean, I probably don’t know what’s specifically wrong, like, what’s wrong with our island that both means the gods have sent you and that other one here but also what’s wrong in a way that the watchdog already here couldn’t solve, but…”

He trailed off for a second, lost on his own train of thought again, really trying to figure out the best way to help answer their burning questions, even if most of them were still only implied ones. Was the island in danger? The answer was probably already “yes” to that question, right?  Were there any problems he personally had? “Oh, yeah, I’ve got a problem, actually,” he said as if the previous pause had not existed at all. “I lost a bunch of stuff last night, like, tools, though those I probably just left out; a book, that one’s super important; and, uh, you know, stuff. So now that I’ve remembered I gotta check with the harbormaster n’ start looking I guess. Lost stuff, is that the kind of thing you’re going for?

“Gotta find Laura too, she’ll probably be able to help me out. She’s a real great finder, actually. If you ever need something found, you just gotta find her first. Probably at the temple, I bet? This early in the day? Yeah, probably. Oh, and maybe Joy too, if she’s not doing anything else. She’ll probably be upset about the book thing but ehh that’s my lump to take, not yours.”

Ricky pointed off further inland. “That way’s the temple. Not counting the ruined castle, it's the biggest thing on the island so I don’t think you can miss it. I’d guess you either do that or follow me after that captain and see what Sparky’s been up to.”


Let’s Dance To Joy Division

There certainly was a lot to do that morning, Joy thought, even more so than the normal aftermath of the island’s parties, and yet she still started the day like she always did (or at least tried to): a morning walk, starting from just outside the old castle walls on the far western end of the island and moving in concentric arcs, back and forth until she had traversed the whole island, taking in the consequences of the previous day in their entirety. Despite the impressive scale, most of it was about what she’d expected, mostly in the form of the older buildings on the island continuing to crumble away into rubble, the newer ones just managing to hang on.

It was the surprises, though, that interested Joy the most. Surprises like most of the people on street-cleaning duty actually getting up on time -- that was a big one -- or still being able to see the top of that zeppelin ship that had flown in the night before peeking out over the rooftops -- it had looked so small up there against the darkness of the night sky. The biggest surprise, of course, was finding a face she had never seen before curled up against a barrel, clearly in distress. “You poor creature,” Joy couldn’t help but say. “Let's get you someplace out of the weather.”

Transporting the unconscious body was no small feat, but it was manageable with the help of some passers-by who were only too happy to help once they saw who was asking for their time. Thankfully as well, once she was no longer meandering through Andalou’s streets, it didn’t take very long at all to return to her home and place them on her bed until they awoke.

She was in the middle of preparing a compress for them -- they’d felt a bit feverish back then out on the street -- when they stumbled back into her main room. “Oh! Good morning,” Joy said, pretending (even if probably not very well) to not notice her visitor’s continued anguish. “I’m Joy, a watchdog of Laeta -- and yes I know, but if you want to hear an even more on-the-nose name, you should hear what my dad tried to name me. This is my house, you’re safe here, and, um, I know this sounds a bit silly but I suppose it behooves me to ask, when you get your bearings enough to introduce yourself in return, if you can remember, what’s the happiest you’ve ever been?”


OOC

Spoiler

Joy // Subtitles are titles of songs by The Wombats

Laeta is the goddess of joy (something both of your characters would know) which is why Joy says what she does. I suppose while we're on the subject of this half of the post, obviously you don't have to answer Joy's question out loud, but I would like it if it got answered in thought, at least. Just something to keep in mind as you post probably getting used to the new surroundings (if you want (you don't have to) a better description of Joy's house, let me know) and find new questions to ask.

For Kitt's part, it's probably pretty obvious that he's got a few options in front of him, whether following Ricky, or going to find Laura, or just starting to look for the missing items on his own, or really any other number of things besides if you can think of them. Let me know if you need anything else from me or if you need help deciding we can talk together about thoughts.

The post deadline is technically waived until things settle down and one of you isn't working 12-hour shifts seven days a week, but that doesn't mean I won't still be checking in every week just to see how things are. Hope you're both doing well, though, especially with Thanksgiving coming up soon.

-r

 

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Going Through Changes

Olivander felt his body stir unwillingly in the early morning. He hadn't had the strength to even raise his head. He could only crack open his eyes and see the world beneath him moving. He quickly fell back to sleep as his head began to pound once more.

When he finally awoke fully, Olivander found himself inside someone else's dwelling. His first instinct was to reach for his blade and protect himself. His guard high, he sat upright and searched the immediate room. There was no one there, but Olivander kept his guard up regardless. He slowly stood to his feet, slightly dizzy but managing to get his bearings. The room swayed just a bit which caused Olivander to lurch forward and lean against the bed he had been in. "Who am I kidding? With the way I feel, if someone wanted me dead, I would be dead already." His subconscious thoughts caused him to sheathe his dagger and try to get a grip on where he was. He could hear footsteps in another room. Hopefully, whomever was waiting on him hadn't suffered too much due to his own inability to get his shit together. Olivander quietly left the room he'd been provided and achingly made his way across the residence to see who exactly had rescued him.

The journey was long and arduous for him, but Olivander had finally made it. Before he could say a word, a young woman with short, bright orange hair turned around to greet him. She looked to have a compress in her hand. She must've been his caretaker. She seemed harmless, so Olivander made himself calm down.

“Oh! Good morning,” she had said.

Olivander could only nod at first.

“I’m Joy, a watchdog of Laeta -- and yes I know, but if you want to hear an even more on-the-nose name, you should hear what my dad tried to name me," the young woman explained.

So, she was a watchdog? Of Laeta, the god of joy. And her name was also Joy. This made Olivander smile. It was a weak, strained smile, but it made him smile all the same. "It's a pleasure," he managed to reply with a groan. His head was still aching.

"This is my house, you’re safe here, and, um, I know this sounds a bit silly but I suppose it behooves me to ask, when you get your bearings enough to introduce yourself in return, if you can remember, what’s the happiest you’ve ever been?”

Olivander kept smiling. She was quite sweet. "I.. urgh," Olivander groaned as he fell to a knee. He could feel the room spinning again. "Apologies, Joy," he said quickly. He struggled back to his feet. With a pained smile, Olivander looked Joy in the eyes. He tried to maintain his composure, but slowly he began to weep as he replied to her question. "I honestly don't remember."

His voice cracked as he pressed his back against the wall. He slowly slid to the floor as his head pounded and his heart boomed. His emotions ran high as he thought about the question thoroughly. And that was when Olivander realized he had never truly been happy. He had brief moments of excitement and joy. He had short spurts of arousal, wonder, and passion. However, Olivander had not experienced happiness to its fullest extent. And through the pain in his head, this hurt much, much more. He placed his head in between his knees and wept.

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Open Ended Adventure

“Well, hey, I mean, I probably don’t know what’s specifically wrong, like, what’s wrong with our island that both means the gods have sent you and that other one here but also what’s wrong in a way that the watchdog already here couldn’t solve, but…”

Kitt noticed Ricky seeming to pause mid-sentence there. He seemed to be lost in thought...for the most part anyway...but then once he got back onto the tracks, there he was rattling off again.

“Oh, yeah, I’ve got a problem, actually, I lost a bunch of stuff last night, like, tools, though those I probably just left out; a book, that one’s super important; and, uh, you know, stuff. So now that I’ve remembered I gotta check with the harbormaster n’ start looking I guess. Lost stuff, is that the kind of thing you’re going for? Gotta find Laura too, she’ll probably be able to help me out. She’s a real great finder, actually. If you ever need something found, you just gotta find her first. Probably at the temple, I bet? This early in the day? Yeah, probably. Oh, and maybe Joy too, if she’s not doing anything else. She’ll probably be upset about the book thing but ehh that’s my lump to take, not yours.”

"Lost things, huh?" Kitt asked, rubbing his chin slightly with his eyes closed. "Probably not initially what Taros has me here for, but helping people and serving them is what a Watchdog's job is amongst spreading the word of their patron and the like. So I'll definitely help you in that venture if Taros' will allows." ...even though what Flynt told me still holds true that my will is also Taros' will...but I digress...

“That way’s the temple. Not counting the ruined castle, it's the biggest thing on the island so I don’t think you can miss it. I’d guess you either do that or follow me after that captain and see what Sparky’s been up to.”

Kitt gave a smile with a slight nod. "Well, I may need a guide to assist me around Andalou...so I'd be humbly gracious if you could assist me in that venture." he said, glancing over at the temple's direction. "I can try and have you lead me to the temple here shortly, but for now, I'll join you with following. While we do that, perhaps you can tell me more about these missing items...and how long that's been happening." ...same time...I need to find a chance to talk to Olivander...especially about that word being told to me. I have a bad feeling about it...

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