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You are here: Home --> Forum Home --> Recent posts by Eol Fefalas
Topic: The One Word Game
Subject: Uh...


(p.s. I'd catch both of you... or at least break your fall, anyway... I've been at the bottom of this cliff for years. )

Posted on 2009-12-31 at 19:22:40.

Topic: Corrupt a wish
Subject: Done...

You know... but you can't say... which kind of makes knowing pointless...

I wish every last Innmate a Happy New Year!

Posted on 2009-12-31 at 19:17:48.

Topic: The origins of the facelick
Subject: Epiphany!

Y'know... it occurs to me that everyone's all the time going "Eeeeeew! He licked me!!! Eol's weird!" but suddenly, those of you who have thus far avoided it come running around advertising my oversights... You secretly LIKE getting licked, don't ya?

Don't ya???

You can admit it!

Posted on 2009-12-31 at 01:18:39.

Topic: Greetings...
Subject: Yes indeed...

When proposing a new game and seeking players your best bet is to tack up a post in the Recruitment Forum. Once you've gathered your players, you'll want to start your actual game thread in the appropriate category (which, in your case, is likely going to be the Rules Based D&D forums, and you may also want to add a Q&A thread (to keep overlong OOC conversations and commentary, etc out of your game thread, of course).

Now, as to bold, italics, etc... those are allowed on the boards ya just gotta have a few handy html tags to make it happen... Our dear Innmate Scarab has created this thread specifically to show you how to do that.

Looking forward to seeing what you come up with for us, MD... Once again, welcome aboard.

Posted on 2009-12-30 at 14:33:43.

Topic: The origins of the facelick
Subject: Awww shucks....

Thanks, boss...

Posted on 2009-12-30 at 14:23:01.

Topic: Loaded Dice #40: the Wisdom of Han Solo
Subject: Dirty Santa

You're right Skari, "Dirty Santa" is a game of sorts... usually played at office parties, among gaming groups, etc... the way it works is, there are presents enough for the number of people playing and, as you no doubt saw in the strip, it is somehow determined which of the participants gets to go first. Once this is done, that first person gets to pick one of the presents and open it. Then, the next person has the option of "stealing" the first person's present or picking from amongst the ones that are yet unopened... If person #2 steals the present from person #1, person #1 then gets to pick another unopened present, I beleive... anyway, the game continues until all the presents have been opened and/or stolen... hilarity typically ensues.

I think I got that right, anyway...

Loved the strip, too...

"Let the Wookie win"

Posted on 2009-12-30 at 14:22:08.

Topic: Trilogy War Q/A
Subject: Yup,yup!

Halfling havok incoming.

Been trying to catch up with the tale, here, since Tann asked me back and believe I've gotten the gist of what's going on and all that... bear with me if I fumble a bit in the first post or two, though, hmm? ...I may hang back on my own posting until after Tann's update on the 3rd, but I'll have li'l Ulthy back into full-swing for you all, thereafter.

Posted on 2009-12-30 at 14:14:52.

Topic: Greetings...
Subject: Haha! Without warning at last!

Welcome to the Inn, Mithral! Apologies, of course, for the facelick being the first thing you're greeted with, but, lately, people seem to get warned about it before I can spring. I'm soooo happy to have gotten here first.

Anyhoo... random insanity and slobbery oddness aside... we're always glad to have new Innmates join our cast and crew. If there's anything that any of us can do to help you find your way around the site, answer questions about "posting conventions" or whatever, don't hesitate to give us a shout... drop a PM, post up a thread, whatever... I'm sure you'll find that most everyone around here, staff and regulars alike, are more than happy to lend a hand or offer an opinion.

Posted on 2009-12-30 at 13:53:06.

Topic: The origins of the facelick
Subject: Well done, G!

+1 for the pre-emptive facelick. You're a quick study, young padawan.

Posted on 2009-12-30 at 13:47:20.

Topic: The Fates of Fortune
Subject: Too close, perhaps...

There was an all too brief moment, like the flicker of a tallow flame standing against the monsoon that blew in from the seas, in which Nyx thought he might have gained some understanding of his dream… thought, perhaps, Cay might have understood it, too, when, as she finally took his hand and allowed him to help her to her feet, her eyes met his and whatever fragments of their respective souls might have remained danced together in that sputtering light… and, bidden by that understanding, lost in that moment, he sought to kiss her the way he truly wanted to. Their lips touched for only an instant and they shared a breath that, to Nyx at least, felt as if the shards of his blackened spirit merged with hers and offered the promise of a completeness that had eluded him for what must have been forever…

A gasp escaped from Cay, though, and her head turned suddenly away just as Nyx allowed his own eyes to close and committed himself to the pure honesty that this kiss might have spoken for him. Fate or fortune, either one, had, once more, had it’s say in regards to what he might have wanted and reminded him that it was still and, likely, forever out of his reach. The turning of her head was the dousing of that flickering tallow and her gasp the zephyr that had extinguished it. In a protest that he couldn’t stop the fingers that had just traced a tender course along her neck tensed as his lips, expecting to meet hers, were granted only her cheek.

“We should be going,” Cay whispered, slipping her hand from his… moving away from him, “it isn’t safe here.”

As I have tried, over and over, to tell you, Nyx, a stinging voice stabbed at his mind just as the jagged edges of his soul cooled and stabbed his heart, She doesn’t want you. She knows to whom you belong and would prefer to leave you there. Even if she did lower herself to have such feelings for an elf, you know as well as I that it would never be you…

The mith’ganni tried to ignore that voice. Tried, instead, to glean some small satisfaction from that last moment in which he felt her under his fingertips. The voice was right, though, it seemed… just as it had been trying to tell him… and the warmth that he had hoped to keep in the breaking of that moment cooled all too quickly as his hand fell away from her shoulder and clenched tightly as it disappeared back beneath his cloak.

She seeks to be something, mith’ganni... to have a meaning to her life beyond what you could ever possibly hope to offer… to endure… How can you give her that when, every where you go, death follows? You think that enduring, to her, means living in death the way you do? You are death as much as I am… and dead, yourself, as much as you are my harbinger… The edge of my axe, Shyndyn… that’s all you are… to anyone…

Nyx finally forced his own eyes open as his hearing registered that her step was nearing the mouth of the alley and found himself staring into the same stagnant puddle which had held Cayrimsa’s gaze before. He blinked at his reflection a few times; waiting for the inner voice that actually belonged to him to offer a protest or at least a counterpoint to Prien’s rationale... drew his cowl over his head when none was offered… The assassin forced his faintly scorned expression into a mask of grim acceptance before finally lifting to find her stepping back onto the promenade. He drew in a long, slow breath… held it, watching the way she moved… and released the breath and the thought at the same moment that the alley’s shadows let him follow after her. Rounding the corner where side street met thoroughfare, his fingers passed lightly over the silver-worked skull that buckled his belt as his hand moved to keep the flare of his cloak from exposing the kukri at his hip.

There is work to be done… and preparations to be made… think on that… Prien whispered as Nyx’s eyes worked the crown and the afternoon shadows of the street and he ghosted back into his “proper place” at her right.

As much as he hated to admit it to himself, Nyx actually found himself at least trying to heed his recently-forsaken god’s counseling as he followed Cay in silence out of the Imperial Quarter and progressively lower through the successive districts to the wharf. He tried. He tried by sorting the facts and details of this fiasco as he knew them in and trying to make those facts and details congeal into something that made sense. He tried by supposing maybe-facts and possibly-details based on things the he knew about both Bolstoii and Dmitrova. He tried by keeping his mind and his senses on their surroundings as they traveled. As much as he tried to keep his mind on the job, though, he failed… whether it was recalling some bit of information she had provided and losing track of that tidbit in the remembered sound of her voice or his gaze happening to fall upon her in his scanning of the streets and linger there for a second longer than it should have… his thoughts and senses invariably returned to her along the way. But he tried.

There is work to be done… preparations to be made.

When Cay led them, finally, into the dank, little quayside tavern known as the Salted Mermaid, Nyx had tried enough and was certain that his mind was back where it needed to be. When she slipped into a dimly lit booth in the back of the place, Nyx slid onto the bench on the opposite side of the table and, after seeking out and gesturing for a serving-wench, turned his gaze to the woman across the table and tried to feel nothing…

There is work to be done… preparations to be made.

Her eyes didn’t lift to meet his… a fact that made feeling nothing even more difficult… but she was quick to start the conversation and ensure that the subject remained on course.

“So then,” she said, studying the tabletop, “what did you find?”

A hand moved beneath his cloak and extracted the stolen documents from one of the inner pockets of his coat. “Aelion… or those in league with the boy, for there are surely more than he involved… are not interested in what may be on those caravans,” he said, his voice measured as he slid the papers across the table under into her downcast line of sight, “They are interested in where those caravans are going and which routes they take to get there. They are interested in where they can go and what they can sneak into and out of the wagon trains’ stocks.” His mottled yet still pale finger tips tapped the papers meaningfully before the hand slithered away and disappeared from the table. “They are looking for something. Dmitrova’s gotten wind of it, I would imagine, hence ordering us after the half-moon’s lover, and either wants whatever it is for himself or wants to turn the whole thing into an embarrassment for Styopa Bolstoii of such scale that Vadim’s maneuverings on the Lords holdings would go unnoticed until it was too late…”

His gaze was drawn away from her then by the approach of the serving-wench.

“Oi, an’ wha’ c’n I get fer th’ two o’ ye, then,” the heavy-set and haggard looking woman queried, wiping her thick hands off on a stained and greasy rag as she thudded to a stop at the table’s edge.

“Wine,” Nyx ordered dryly. The alabaster fingers emerged from the folds of the cloak and slid two silvers towards the woman; “Good wine,” he added as the hand disappeared once more and his moonlight gaze flicked back to Cay, “and whatever the lady is having.”

“Aye, good wine ‘tis, luv,” the silvers had disappeared from the tabletop and into the wench’s cleavage even before her smoke and fume reddened eyes turned to Cay, “an’ fer ye, miss?”

He sat silently, watching her as she spoke to the waitress, and remained silent for a long moment after the human woman had trudged away from the table, his gaze still soaking the sorceress in as her own eyes, once more, failed to meet his and fell instead to the papers before her.

“This is all only my theory, yes,” he said after a moment, that characteristically self-assured, razor-edged grin finally fashioning itself on his lips, “We shall need to speak to this Aelion, I think… and I may need to get into Vadim’s, as well…”

Posted on 2009-12-30 at 01:45:02.

Topic: The origins of the facelick
Subject: It didn't take a month...

...but she was royally torqued for a couple of hours, anyway.

Posted on 2009-12-29 at 17:34:40.

Topic: The origins of the facelick
Subject: Well, of course you did!

With flying colors...

Honestly, I don't think there are many Innmates at all who have "failed". Some reactions have been muuuuuch better than others, though.

Posted on 2009-12-29 at 15:55:20.

Topic: The origins of the facelick
Subject: Trying to scare them away?

Nah... It's a test, ya see?

Had li'l Lukey gotten up from that facelick, laughed it off, and hung around to get the speech, he would have passed.

Case in point, here... Jessica's current boyfriend (some 9 years after Luke, mind you) got facelicked and, without hesitating, licked my face in reply... Then shook my hand and got invited to Christmas dinner.

Anyway, where Innmates are concerned, it's kind of the same idea. If ya get pounced and facelicked around here and keep coming back, by the Gods, you've got what it takes to survive the other randomosity that goes on around here with scarcely a flinch... Besides, Innmates are yummy!

Posted on 2009-12-29 at 15:50:01.
Edited on 2009-12-29 at 15:53:39 by Eol Fefalas

Topic: The origins of the facelick
Subject: The origins of the facelick

Had an Innmate ask me recently where-o-where I might have picked up my insane fascination for licking faces so I figured, what with the year coming to a close and such, I might as well do some "attic-cleaning" and finally submit to you, the Innmates, the origins of Eol's facelicks...

Wanna hear it?

Welllll... lemme tell ya a little story, then...

The dreaded facelick came to be when my oldest daughter brought her very first "official" boyfriend home to meet me. I imposed this "rule" when she started getting interested in boy's that she wasn't allowed to date anyone who wouldn't come and meet us, listen to my "I can be your best friend or your worst nightmare" speech and shake my hand afterwards... Soooo, the time came when Jessica started really liking this kid named Luke and she finally got him to come over to the house for "the meeting".

She comes in the door and says - relatively quietly because she wasn't sure where exactly in the house I might be and didn't want me to hear, I expect - "Mom... I brought Luke over to meet you guys... Make sure Dad behaves..."

Unfortunately for Jess, I did hear her and, of course, since I wanted to make the right impression on this lad (and any others that may follow); I bellow "Woohoohoohoohooooo!" at the top of my lungs and charge for the door...

Jessica's screaming; "Daddy, no!!! Daddy no!!!"

Tammy's trying to say the same thing but is laughing too hard because, by this point, I've burst through the front yard and am in mid-leap!

I pounced that kid like Tigger pounced Pooh... think I might've even been wearing the same grin... So, here's this 13 year old kid gawking up at me all wide-eyed and freaked out and... *sluuuuuuurp*... I licked his face from chin to hairline and said; "Hi! I'm Jessica's dad! What's your name?"

The kid squirmed out from under me... might have blinked... and then hauled-butt back the way he came. Never did see Luke after that...

Daddy 1
Boys 0

Never underestimate the effectiveness of a facelick!

Posted on 2009-12-29 at 15:33:18.

Topic: Corrupt a wish
Subject: Make it so...

You feel better. In fact, you feel so much better that you feel like me and start randomly pouncing people and licking their faces indiscriminately... a lot of them don't taste very good but that's okay, you're in crazy-Eol mode and you don't care because you've got a pocket full of listerine, a funky green and pink polka-dotted hat, and a platypus named Oscar who is the head of security at the evil lab that you just relocated from beneath NYC...


I wish the last several posts before this one hadn't contained both Richard Gere and gerbil references... My tongue hurts from biting it!

Posted on 2009-12-29 at 14:10:45.

Topic: The Would You Rather Game
Subject: Hmmmm...

Twelfth Night... Hamlet always makes me think 'omlette', then my stomach starts growling... besides, Twelfth Night is just better.

Facelicks or Headbutts?

Posted on 2009-12-29 at 14:01:47.

Topic: The Fates of Fortune
Subject: It's about time... and timing...

“Lathon!” Cay’s voice boomed through the records room, “Lathon have you found what I require or do we need another lesson in what it means to disappoint your mistress?”

Nyx had managed to gather enough information from the bound ledgers as well as the loose sheaves of manifests to lend considerable weight to the theory he had begun to develop in regards to what interest the Bolstoii’s stable-boy might have in them. He had torn a few pages from the three bound tomes that would be useful in helping to illustrate his discoveries to Cay and, though he hadn’t pilfered any of the documents from the loose parchments that Trogden had supplied… it was unlikely that anyone would be reviewing the already bound manifests in the near future but a thorough review was sure to be performed on the others, allowing for modifications or updates to be made and final drafts submitted before they were committed to being covered… he had managed to memorize one or two of the manifests from that set. In particular, the one for a caravan of Bolstoii’s that was scheduled to depart Drasnia for Sethbrook in Avenon within the week; given the oddities in that invoice, Nyx was nearly positive that it was going to be the one that Kiki’s half-moon was most concerned with. Cayrimsa’s very-noble-like entrance into the room (and the rather contentious exchange between her and Trogden that followed) provided Nyx with the noise-cover and visual distraction that he needed to quickly fold and secret away the pages he had stolen and, then, quickly straighten the remaining documents before he finally abandoned the table.

“Yes, my Mistress,” he called as he scurried towards the front of the repository with all due haste as was expected of a slave, “Coming, Mistress.”

“Lathon!” She called out again, even above the pretended apologies and pleas for forgiveness he spieled as he neared the end of the bookcase that obscured direct line of sight to the door, “We have another appointment and we need to leave, now!”

His humbled gaze found Leo first as he came around the wall of shelves and noted, with no small bit of satisfaction, that the man now looked as browbeaten as the receptionist in the main foyer had earlier…

Of course, he smirked inwardly as he sketched what was supposed to be a grateful bow to the man, you shut up when for a ‘lady’ but your mouth runs like the Reyal for the slave-race… If you knew that elven blood ran in her veins, might you harass her with questions about her heritage and her people?

… His gaze tracked to Cay, then, instantly noting her flushed and somewhat disheveled appearance. The set of his features remained the carefully crafted mix of humility and fear that one might expect of a servant who had incurred his mistress’ displeasure but, inwardly, Nyx seethed… felt his stomach churn and his heart turn to stone and burst into angry flame… And you, the words hissed through Nyx’s mind as he took in the faint smudges on her skin and dress and the faint sheen that accompanied being near spent, Did you even bother with lunch and get a meal out of it or, mayhap, did you just let him mount you there on the floor of his office?!… When, at last, his eyes slithered up to meet hers, though, and found something lighting them that he hadn’t been expecting, Nyx felt another churning in his gut and his mind, too, registered that the tone underlying that ‘now’ she had spoken wasn’t the demand of a titled Lady to her slave but more akin to the pleading of one partner to another.

Golden eyes flickered, the flames behind them dancing quickly away from jealous anger and towards a thing much like concern, as they locked to the amber ones that glared back… Something is not right, here…

“Forgive me, Mistress,” he bowed deeply, his eyes not tearing away from hers quite like a slave’s might, the sincerity of that plea going beyond the deception they had crafted, “I should have anticipated your arrival. Have mercy on a doddering point-ear, Mistress. Twas not my intent to delay you.” He was near enough to her, now, to smell the acrid tang of human sweat clinging to her and to read even more into the urgency in her eyes.

Nyx bit his lip in order to keep hold of his slave persona as he turned and offered another, short bow to the clerk; “Milady thanks you for assisting her unworthy servant, sir. You have been most helpful and my Mistress shan’t forget your kindness.”

“Your Mistress is quite welcome, Lathon,” the crestfallen Trogden, still wary of meeting Cayrimsa’s gaze but meeting Nyx’s somewhat easily, murmured in reply.

The mith’ganni turned neatly about, then; strode for the door ahead of Cay only for the purpose of holding it open for “his Mistress” and fell into the proper place behind her as she swept out of the repository, across the foyer, and out to the top of the Trade Bureau’s steps. An untrained eye might have missed the fact that her bearing and countenance, still full of the boorish self-importance that clung to most nobles, seemed a bit forced, as if the façade might crumble away at the first challenge… Nyx noticed, though…

Cay’s step was purposeful and her posture was straight and noble, but while it may have been passable for those that glanced in their direction, to Nyx it seemed it was all the woman could do to keep her bones from forsaking her and letting her flesh drop to the ground in an uncontrolled flop. Even immersed in their roles as they were, she also seemed to go out of her way to avoid looking at him or anyone else for that matter; her eyes narrowed slightly and fixed straight ahead as if she walked in the confines of a featureless tunnel wherein the only thing to be concerned with looking upon was the end. Not as much as a glance did she cast in his direction or any other, nor a word did she utter, in character as Lady Dionlyspe or otherwise, as she led them down the Trade Bureau’s stairway, for a short distance down the promenade in the direction of the Church of Naxir, and, then, at last, off of the cobbled thoroughfare and into an alleyway that twisted away to the north. It was perhaps a dozen steps down the length of that shadowed backstreet that she finally let her illusion collapse.

Nyx had stopped when a faint trembling of her shoulders underneath the finely worked blue cape preceded the shuddering expulsion of a held-too-long breath. His gaze worked over the alley, insuring none had followed them off the street or were traveling their direction from the far end, as her own steps faltered and a small noise squeaked past her lips. And when her knees buckled ever so slightly and she turned, Nyx abandoned his role as Lathon the slave, leaving not a single step between them and discretely readying himself to catch her should she faint away… Something has happened…

Cay’s eyes fluttered closed and she did totter backwards a bit, her shoulders coming to rest against the wall behind her as she drew in a long, deep breath which was expelled with only a hint less shuddering than the last. Her eyes opened and turned downward, staying the alabaster hand that had already begun to move forward to support her, and she gave in to the demands of her jellied knees, sliding down the wall and crouching on her heels with her head resting on her knees for a long moment.
“Cayrimsa,” Nyx said softly, after having watched her for a long while as she tried to steady her breathing, “Are you… did Lemoyne…” He sighed, himself, then, cutting of both of the inner voices before either could interrupt. His eyes flicked up the alley and down once more and then returned to her again as he crouched down in front of her. “Are you alright?”

She didn’t look up at him. Instead her eyes remained fixed on a puddle of sludge that had accumulated in the alley and, staring into that puddle, she muttered simply, "I assure you he's in a much worse state than I am... and I'm not done with him."

A faint smile crept towards the corners of his mouth and a similarly subtle nod accompanied it, drawing his gaze to where the slender fingers of one hand moved to touch the square of fine yellowed paper that was pressed into the palm of the other. He wanted to ask her about her ‘lunch’… wanted to know what had happened and how slowly and painfully Lemoyne needed to die as a result… because there is no doubt that he must die, now… but, at the moment, he couldn’t find the words to do so… he wasn’t particularly accustomed to being tactful with Cay, after all…

As if sensing the thoughts in his head, her eyes snapped up from the fetid little pool, then, and fixed on him with the fires behind them burning. "The last thing I need is your sympathy... concern or... lectures. I have the situation under control,” she snapped, “Just tell me it was worth it, that you found something...”

Nyx blinked, nearly scowled, then, with a snort that sounded more like the beginnings of a chuckle, rose to his feet and offered a hand to help her up.

Cay only stared at the hand for a moment, then sighed and leaned heavily against the wall again; head back, eyes closing. “Please, Nyx,” she said, obviously a little more than exasperated, “just tell me that you found something. I'm not in the mood to play games.”

“I found something,” he said, his hand disappearing back under his cloak as a razor-edged smile stole across his lips, “and I am not playing games…”

The mith’ganni’s eyes roved the alleyway, again, and returned to her once more before he turned and began to prowl towards the far end; “Come, let us find a more out of the way place to discuss it, yes? Perhaps get you something to eat and a place to rest...”

Posted on 2009-12-29 at 03:33:35.
Edited on 2009-12-29 at 03:34:28 by Eol Fefalas

Topic: Hello New To This Site
Subject: Tsk, tsk, tsk!

Now I've gotta take off my goofy hat and put on my "stern guy cap"... *sigh*

Gentlemen, I urge you both to review the TOS for the Inn. The forums are not the place for "flames", "snipes", and/or "personal attacks" of any kind (unless they're game related, of course)... Yes, we all have disagreements from time to time... No, we don't expect every Innmate to get along swimmingly with every other Innmate... We do, however, expect that all of our Innmates try and maintain a wee bit of decorum and that they'll reserve "personal issues" for PMs, e-mails, etc, and not post them out in plain view for everyone to see. We're here to have fun, folks... not to bicker over essentially nothing, hmm?

Flame wars are the path to the Ban-side, yes?

Let's be happy and see if we can't all get along shall we?

Thanks for indulging the mod-hat...

Posted on 2009-12-28 at 20:59:20.

Topic: ^ < V game
Subject: Story of my life... ;)

^ Has clovery breath

< Is consequently suffering

V Enjoying the show

Posted on 2009-12-28 at 19:01:14.

Topic: ^ < V game
Subject: Save your money... I've got beaucoup ranks in escape artist

^ Always lookin' out for me...

< Always lookin' for trouble...

V Always lookin' over a four leafed cover that they overlooked before.

Posted on 2009-12-28 at 17:21:05.

Topic: ^ < V game
Subject: Dagnabbit!

^ Standing there in a dark and abandoned lab

< Now has to put down the cat and lighter and go steal some towels from the Hilton so that said cat and lighter don't go to waste.

V Is going to change the subject, I can almost guarantee. (Unless it's Meri or Ion and then ya just never know... )

Posted on 2009-12-28 at 16:16:40.

Topic: Corrupt a wish
Subject: *ka-poof*

You're a centaur! Unfortunately, the horse that you merged with severely broke a leg in the Kentucky Derby and had to be put down... ... Good luck dragging your horse parts around, bud.

I wish for fish on a dish.

(P.S. Meter Mod? We have those? I didn't even know we offered parking... go figger! )

Posted on 2009-12-28 at 14:43:30.

Topic: ^ < V game
Subject: D'oh! Now I have to move it! Thanks, Ion.

^ Working his way up to "arch-nemisis"

< Now has to rent a really big U-haul

V Will help me relocate my evil lab... and like it!

Posted on 2009-12-28 at 14:38:00.

Topic: Demonic Vending Machine
Subject: It spits out...

The Grime Peeper!

I feed it that horrible pun, a bottle of hot sauce, and a facelick!

Posted on 2009-12-28 at 14:35:39.

Topic: The One Word Game
Subject: o.O


Posted on 2009-12-28 at 14:33:35.


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