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Thread: [M] The Hollow - IC

  1. #81
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    “Hey little guy” Lulu whispers to the mouse. “Roland? Right? Pretty sure that’s what that crazy fucker called you.” she asks him with a shaky smile, giving him the thumbs up sign, as she creeps up to the edge of the shelving to ensure they are still alone. A small sigh of relief escapes her lips, as she confirms that she is in fact alone, with the exception of the mouse.

    Glancing in his direction, “Don’t suppose you know the way out of here, do you?” she asks him, her voice tinged with sarcasm. “I need to get out of here, but would rather not go the way Jan went. ” she mutters more to herself than anything. Although the thought crosses her mind that if Roland did actually answer her questions, would she even be surprised? Probably not.

    In her stationary search of the store room, trying to see if there is another exit, a small squeak from Roland brings her green eyes back to his small beady black ones. Has he moved? He seems to be closer to her, but maybe it was just her imagination. Shifting her weight slightly she moves from her crouched position to just sit flat on the floor. Her butt landing on the floor causing a small cloud of dust to puff gently around her. “Well I guess we might as well stay here a bit, right buddy?” she laughs mirthlessly at him. His small nose twitching giving the impression he agrees with her.

    “you know, I used to have a mouse once” she tells him. “her name was Peanut” she tells him, watching his little nose twitch, his little whiskers glinting in the murky light. “she was black with a cute little swatch of white on her shoulder. She was adorable and if squinted my eyes just right, you could see that her white patch was actually in the shape of a heart” she told him, recalling the little pet she had.

    “we used to have great times Peanut and me. I used to smuggle her to the back yard, and let her play in my sand box. She used to like to run around my doll house too! climbing on the tables and chairs. She was like Godzilla! ” she continued on, her face softening into a smile recalling her rodent friend. “my mom used to get SO mad when I would let her play in the laundry baskets full of clothing. But she liked it ya know? the clothes all warm from the dryer, and truth be told, I think Mom wasn’t really mad? Just kinda pretended to be.” the image of the mouse peeking out at her from underwear and t-shirts flashing through her mind, causing her to chuckle, unexpectedly. “don’t have to tell you though, good things just never seem to last, do they Roland” the small bit of warmth generated by the memory, suddenly draining away as fast as it had appeared.

    Watching as his nose keeps twitching, she continues talking to him as if he had asked her a question “What happened to her? You ask? Well let’s just say it was ugly and that was the last pet I ever had” a frown replacing the smile recently etched on her face. “I won’t bore you with the details little guy. That story didn’t have a good ending” Closing her eyes for a minute, the memory comes back as if it just happened.

    “is that mouse in my laundry again?” she asked me for the hundredth time from the kitchen.
    “Yes ma” was the reply, “Peanut likes it in there” added after the fact as I play with my small toys on the floor, quickly glancing to make sure she was still in the basket beside me. My face beaming upon confirmation that she is in fact, wriggling as only a mouse can through the warm clothes from the dryer her nose twitching along.

    The rusted sound of the screen door slamming shut behind me means that he is home. The instant flood of tension in my stomach twisting to terror as I realize I shouldn’t be here. I forgot the time and stayed here too long, playing. I should have been in my room by now. I knew better, but what is time to an eight year old? What kind of day would today be?

    “hey” is the grunted greeting in my direction. I don’t respond. The stink of him hitting my nostrils as I try to be still, so still. Sweat and alcohol. Alcohol and sweat. It’s overpowering to my small nose, which means he’s close. Too close. If I don’t move, he will ignore me. Some days. Maybe this will be one of those days. His breathing is raspy and heavy, his enormous bulk overshadowing me in the space, making me want to flee. It’s too late now. To move now would be disastrous.

    The silent prayer begins… Go away, go away, go away… I chant to myself the words spoken silently and swiftly as to be one word, goawaygoawaygoaway, without a pause. I still haven’t moved, frozen, waiting. My breath is caught in my chest almost to the point of painful. The sound of shuffling feet tell me he’s turning away, maybe today will be different than most I hope. The small sigh of relief has almost escaped my mouth when his meaty arm reaches out in my peripheral vision and grabs a shirt from the basket.

    “Peanut” I scream at him, my voice shrill and terrified the silent prayer forgotten in my fear for her safety. His bellow of disgust and anger roar in the small space between us as his hand fly’s in my direction. Calluses and grease intermingled to form a skin tone the color of wax. The connection is powerful and direct and the blow to my face sends me reeling backwards in the room. I land on my ass and slide on the tile to crash into a nearby kitchen chair propped against the wall. It effectively stops me and I know the bruises on my back will very visible. I am unable to move and my breath hurts and won’t come right, stiches up my side burning as I try desperately to breath. My eyesight is fuzzy and my mouth tastes funny. That flat copper taste that tastes like pennies. A taste unfortunately that I know well enough. My mouth is full of it and It makes me nauseous, instantly. Even in my pain, I know better than to cry that will only make it worse.

    Through my blurred vision I watch stunned, the struggle to breath still an problem as he grabs Peanut in the clothing making sure I see her within the fabric of a faded and worn blue T-Shirt. She squeaks in fear at being plucked from her playful haven, but I am helpless. He turns to look at me sprawled where I landed from his attention. The horrific mask of glee on his face only cements the fact that these are her last moments on this earth. With a sickening pop, and a crunching noise resounding in my ears, I can’t even scream as he laughs and tosses the bloodied shirt at my feet, the remains of my friend destroyed within the folds.

    “told you before, keep your rat outta the laundry” he grunts heading to the pantry, passing my mother as she heads to me to fix the damage, once again. I know she’ll pay the price later for helping me, the only thing she can hope for is that he’ll pass out and forget but I doubt it.


    Breaking out of her nostalgia, Lulu remembers where she is. “don't you worry Roland. I won't cry!” she tells him, her eyes glistening a bit. Something sounding like bitter laughter escaping her lips after the statement, doing her best to believe the white lie she just told the small mouse.

    “Believe me, ALL my tears are long gone now” moving slowly off the floor, she leans herself closer and moving with aching slowness, she reaches out her slight hand to him. “it’s you and me buddy, let’s get outta here safe, ok?” and grasps him lightly in her palm.
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  2. #82
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    Arnaud awoke as if out of a nightmare, pearls of sweat on his forehead and a raging heartbeat in his chest. His vision was blurry and his hearing muffled - he heard a faint voice, though a familiar one. After a few seconds, when all his senses adjusted, he saw the Spirit creepily gazing at him.

    He sat up straight and looked around. A courtyard? Arno hadn't been here before, that was for sure. He also saw no doors or exits of any kind. Only the Spirit speaking to him. Arnaud sighed and listen to the old man ramble, although his words became very interesting once they neared the end.

    Then he was gone.

    Arnaud gave a blank stare to the ground, rethinking the Spirit's words. Then the corners of his mouth tweaked upwards and he let out an eerily sinister chuckle. "They were never my friends in the first place..." he whispered to himself, grinning widely with an ominous stare.

    "Alright then," Arnaud stood up and rolled his shoulders, cracked his knuckles. "Back from the dead... kinda like a second life." he chuckled, turning around and walking towards the only exit. "Level two." he muttered, the grin still present on his face. He placed his hand on the door handle and pressed it downwards, revealing a loud 'click'. "Press start... aaaand..."

    Once he had stepped through the door, Arnaud yawned and let out a pleased smile. "Player two has entered the game."


  3. #83
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    The night was slow, Mardi Gras always was. It usually didn't pick up until the morning after, when victims of unfortunate hangovers came to his pharmacy in hopes of getting a quick fix so they could drink later that night, or even all day. Many times, just before Mardi Gras, Leland would order special over-the-counter medication to fill his shelves that did just the trick, and each year he would have repeat customers as a result. His shop was located several streets away from Bourbon street, but it was still in the French Quarter and saw a lot of Mardi Gras related action.

    He himself had no interest in partaking in the festivities, as he would rather work and earn a living than get trashed. So every holiday he fought through the traffic, paid the meter to park in front of his own shop, and stayed put while the crazies were out- it was much safer that way, and it allowed him a better vantage point for his own extracurricular, after work hour activities. Tonight was no different, except that there was actually a customer in the store.

    A woman, browsing the over-the-counter hangover medicine that was running low on supplies already from the night before, who appeared to be perfectly sober. This impressed him as usually it was the other way around, with partiers staggering in the next morning hardly able to remember a thing about the night before. Straightening his lab coat, Leland kept an eye on her from behind the counter as he continued to fill prescriptions for the next day. He was watching, whether he was able to see her directly or had to use the concave mirrors in the shop, his eyes never leaving her sight- and she never sensed it either.

    Clueless too, that one, Leland thought to himself, smirking as he stifled a chuckle. She was dressed in a less than modest dress, though by the standards of Bourbon street she had on more fabric than most of the other partiers. The prescription bottles had long been forgotten as he watched her from behind the counter, his eyes glimmering a bit as she stepped back into his direct line of view. She was young, in her mid twenties, possibly no more than a few years younger than him. Leaving the prescription bottles behind the counter, Leland made to open the door to assist her when the phone rang. Damn thing, it isn't important anyway, he thought to himself as he opened the door. It kept ringing and ringing, and finally he'd had enough. "Alright already," Leland thought to himself, though he didn't realize he'd actually said it aloud, too consumed in his prior thoughts.

    "Pharmaceutical D'Zacordi, this is Dr. Zacordi speaking, how may I help you?" he asked, his voice lively despite the bored expression on his face. His eyes trailed the room, looking for the woman again, only to notice that she had left already. Damn.

  4. #84
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    Lulu

    Roland The Mouse nuzzles into your palm, squeaking softly and sniffing your hand. You happily gaze at his little whiskers moving as his little nose twitches around. He looks up at you, quizzically. Suddenly he clenches his eyes shut, in anticipation. His tiny mouth opens, tongue curling. The dust of the room has upset his nose, causing him to sneeze.

    He half-sneezes, lightly, then tilts his head back to sneeze harder. He does.

    The air around the two of you suddenly caves in, a small popping noise - like that of a flashbulb. You and Roland both seem to blur inwards in an instant and suddenly pop back in a startlingly quick movement.

    You are now Underwater. Your limbs float outwards to your side as you suddenly become almost weightless, the delicate pull of gravity pulling you down. Your eyes widen as small bubbles of air float up all around you. You see Roland, squirming, swimming upwards in front of you. His eyes are wide, and he's scurrying towards you. You hear a muffled squeak travel from the water, as he races to you. He pops away, the space he occupied seeming to rush into itself and vanish, leaving behind a small, dusty, white ghostly after-image behind. It dissolves away.

    The water around you is very dark, almost impossible to see far around you at all. Yellow beams of light leak down from Above you, the only source of light you can see. You are holding your breath.

    Arnaud

    You leave the Small Courtyard and come out onto a street, illuminated by streetlamps in the night.

    To the RIGHT you can see further down this road, is the Tea House and then the Courtyard. You can see the payphones from which you came, with a person standing there clutching a receiver.

    To the LEFT, which you have now reasoned is NORTH, streetlights light the way forwards. You see a fork in the road.

    Down the NORTHERN RIGHT FORK you can see a two story building with it's lights on, fancy curtains in the window. The top floor has a balcony, ornate columns with vines neatly wrapped around. Gas lamps burn sickly away. You can even hear muffled laughter inside?

    You also see a bunch of figures in front of the building. You would be alarmed, but these figures do not seem to move at all. Statues? You aren't sure what is in the street below the two-story building, thanks to the poor visibility of the night, but you are aware that it fills the street. You notice a few faint, spots of red light, glowing in and out. You would have to get closer to get a better look, or wait until Daytime.

    The NORTHERN LEFT FORK has streetlights line the way forward partially, and then abruptly stops, making it difficult to see any details down that way from here. You can see, towering up in the night sky, some sort of very tall structure in the distance - a black smudge set in front of the stars.

    Leland

    You hear a faint, high pitched, electronic noise likened to that of a dial-up tone. Suddenly you are aware that your surroundings have seamlessly changed, so instantaneously and without theatricality that you stand there a moment without even realizing it. Then the change hits you.

    You clutch the receiver of a Payphone in your hands. It is currently Nighttime and you do not know where you are.

    To the SOUTH, behind the payphones, is a park illuminated by ornate iron streetlamps. Walkways lined with flowers, a circular fountain where you can hear the sound of rushing water. Mossy trees, and a gazebo lit up with white fairy-lights. You see at the furthest southern point, a long rectangular building, the function of which is identified by a small, naked light bulb jutting out of the TRAIN STATION sign. Illuminated by a small lamp hanging overhead from it's awning, is a charming sign that reads "CLOSED". A blue and white chain link fence follows the southern edge of the park.

    NORTH of you, right in front of the payphones, is a brick road that scales the entire park. Empty parking meters stand at attention, escorting this road. On the other side of the road, are a bunch of shops that span it's entirety, barely identifiable in the patches of pale yellow streetlamp light. Dead ahead of you, an intersecting brick road leads to more buildings. You think you see a figure, standing much further down this road, on the left sidewalk.

    EAST of the intersecting street is a bigger two-story building, dark, with perhaps a small amount of light coming from inside, like a lone candle. The doorway, facing the corner of the intersection, has white french doors that are opened. Above the door, painted in cursive are the words "Janine's Tea House", which are barely illuminated by the bluish FULL MOON above.

    WEST follows the shop, but you can see, a blue-white chain fence eventually cuts off the road.

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  5. #85
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    Fighting the urge to scream at the realization of where she suddenly was, she quickly tried to reach out for Roland, only in time to see him vanish, right before her eyes the underwater pop clearly audible to her. The time to wonder how the heck she had gotten here would have to wait. Time to brood over how Roland had vanished, would also be on the back burner for the moment. Right now the small amount of air in her lungs was dwindling, and if she didn’t move fast, nothing was really going to matter a whole lot anyway. The apprehension that there was probably no one around that would notice her drowning, and come to her rescue was the primary thought.

    Silently thanking her step brother for all those times he chucked her in the pond when she couldn’t swim, came to mind as she struck out hard with her legs and her arms. Pushing up, toward that small glimmer of light above her. Up, up, up. Kick, kick, kick. Pulling the water with her hands, propelling herself up. Desperately holding onto those last precious bubbles of air. Her lungs starting to burn with the effort of not having breath. The light seemed impossibly far away, but she had no choice and kicked all that harder to get to the surface.
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  6. #86
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    Arnaud pressed his hands on his sides, taking in the environment he found himself in. If he were to head right, he'd find himself back at where he was way before - and maybe find the others, too. But to the left was new territory, a whole new world to explore. Two options awaited him there, the one just as mysterious and haunting as the other.

    "Go to the RIGHT."

    The voice suddenly came out of nowhere, speaking directly into Arnaud's ear which made him jump and fall over. Scrambling to his feet, Arnaud turned around to see who had startled him so.

    Before him stood a man who looked exactly like Arnaud. The resemblance was so uncanny that Arnaud thought he was staring into a mirror for a second. Though, upon second glance, the man differed from Arnaud in various ways as well. Instead of black, his hair was a dark shade of brown and not messy at all. Instead, it was combed to the right and styled with gel. He wore glasses as well - Arnaud had always preferred contact lenses. There was also not a piercing in sight, not even the small one Arnaud had in his right ear.
    His clothing was also different enough so you could tell the two apart - instead of the 'casual' or 'punk' look Arnaud went with, this man sported a dark green suit with a black tie and white shirt underneath. His shoes were black.

    Even though the man seemed like a proper businessman, there was something odd about him - something not at all sane. Maybe it was the way his eyes or veins were bulging, or perhaps the small details that made him seem uneasy - the left sleeve of the suit was rolled up, yet the other was not. He also wore fingerless gloves, a fashion choice that didn't fit with the rest of the outfit at all. Or maybe it was the slight dent in his glasses, or the stubble on his chin.

    "The fuck are you?!" Arnaud exclaimed, scrambling backwards with fear as he stared at this copycat. The man continued to stand there, his brow furrowed with anger, fists clenched and teeth gritted. "I am your intellectual superior!" the man responded, crossing his arms. "Your inner genius! The genius YOU never perfected!" now he stepped forwards, directing an accusing finger towards Arnaud. "You - no - WE had the potential to accomplish great things, to CURE DISEASES, but oh no, you had to waste our intellect on MIXTAPES and HACKING BANK ACCOUNTS!" every time the man raised his voice, it seemed as if a ghastly echo accompanied it.

    "Let him talk."

    A second voice came in, straight into Arnaud's other ear. He now scrambled towards the door he came from, pressing his back against it as he widened his eyes at another reflection of himself. The resemblance between Arnaud and this one was just as flawless, yet different enough. Instead of black, his hair was all kinds of colours; Arnaud saw purple, green, blue, everything mixed together to create an almost literal explosion of vibrant colour - for the man's hair was styled with so much gel that it seemed as if he had been electrocuted. And who was to say he hadn't been, because his expression seemed so deranged and crazed that Arnaud feared he was dealing with a lunatic now.
    His skin was just as pale as Arnaud's, but his face was devoid of piercings as well. Around his throat was a 90s choker with a strange rainbow-coloured pendant attached to it. His clothing was an odd combination of all kinds of styles. He wore a pink jacket that was ripped open instead of unbuttoned. He wore a white tank top underneath with various kinds of paint splatter, like a modern art canvas. He sported a pair of baggy brown trousers with an enormous belt. His right foot was coated in a bright red Converse All Star shoe, the left foot was wearing a sandal. Around both his wrist were various bracelets of all sorts.

    The presumed lunatic let out a maniacal cackle. "I mean, look at him! He's twice as ugly as you are! No offense." he lowered his voice and allowed his laughter to fade. "Yeah, you'd have been maybe the smartest bloke on earth, but where's the fun in THAT, huh?" he elaborated, moving his arms around in a queer manner. "I mean seriously, even now you're STILL not enjoying yourself! Turn this all around, man, RELEASE the CHAOS!" he walked up to Arnaud, hoisting him on his feet and shook him as he cackled, bringing his dirty yellow teeth eerily close to his face. "Make it your party, not theirs." he grinned menacingly and raised an eyebrow.

    The businessman interrupted him, pushing him aside. It seemed as if the lunatic suddenly vanished from existence, but maybe Arnaud was just so distracted and caught off-guard by it all that he noticed barely anything of this surreal happening. "Don't pay attention to that blabbering primate!" the businessman growled. "If we want to get out of here, and we do, we need to be efficient. And the efficient thing to do is waltz back to the RIGHT, find those other idiots you met here and KILL them pronto."

    "Screw that!" the lunatic was brought back into existence, his cackle filling the air. "We can kill 'em whenever we want to! No need to go out of our way and search EVERYWHERE for those losers." he approached Arnaud, gently and queerly pushing the businessman aside. "We'll run into them eventually," he whispered, "and then we can get to the killing..." he showed his menacing grin again, backing away slightly and throwing his arms into the air. "Until then we can do whatever the fuck we want!"

    The lunatic grabbed Arnaud by his shoulder, his creepy spider-like fingers digging into his flesh. "So how about we check out that ominous thing over there? Looks tall and creepy..." he grinned, licking his teeth.

    "No!" the businessman came back into play, standing on Arnaud's other side. He pointed towards the phone booths. "We need to head back and find them, now!"

    Arnaud let out an exhausted sigh and clenched his fists, detaching himself from the both of them and angrily walking forwards. "I'm not taking orders from either of you freaks." he mumbled, heading towards the NORTHERN RIGHT FORK.


  7. #87
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    Eric

    Stunned and frozen by nerves, the crazed lunatic swings his axe at you and hits you straight in your gut. Luckily it was not the side with the blade, so it merely knocks the wind out of you and sends you sprawling on to your back. The man jumps down on to you and brings his axe down towards your neck and you catch his arm, feeling the cool metal of the blade kiss at your throat.

    If you don't fight back, it's possible this man will kill you.

    Lulu

    You break the surface of the water and gasp for air. When your heaving for breath stops, you look up at your surroundings. A single streetlamp illuminates the area around the Park Fountain. You climb out, now soaking, water dripping onto the sidewalk. You see what appears to be a picnic blanket nearby, but there is nobody sitting there. There is some debris and leftover plates that would implicate that someone was there recently.

    You are now aware that the Park Fountain is much, much deeper than it actually appears to be.

    NORTH is the MAIN ROAD, TEA HOUSE and PAY PHONES. You notice there is a figure standing at the payphones, receiver in hand, unmoving. To the WEST is the Gazebo. SOUTH is the TRAIN STATION.

    Arnaud

    You head down the Northern Right Fork, the laughter from the two-story building getting louder. You hear the clinking of glasses and forks on plates. As you approach the street, the figures remain still. You can see these glowing, red objects that stand out in the dark, seemingly illuminated but not projecting any light of their own.

    Upon closer inspection of the figures, they appear to be people all standing in formation, though none of them are moving. Their eyes all appear to be closed and you do not attempt to wake them. One of the glowing red objects is being held by the outstretched arms of one of the figures, resting up on his shoulder and looping around to his mouth. You realize that this is in the shape of a Trombone. You reach out to touch the shape, and your hand moves right through it as if nothing is there at all.

    You now realize that this is the Parade that the Spirit of New Orleans told you to find.

    The nearby huge structure, you realize, is a Parade float, the details of which are hard to make out in the darkness of night. The red shape of a wheel glows in place of one that is missing. Atop the float is another figure, posed in a graceful stance as if mid-sway. Her feathery headdress is another of these red shapes.

    OBJECTIVE COMPLETED
    LOCATE THE PARADE

    SOUTH of you is the road back to the FORK. To the WEST is the building with laughter and conversation. The NORTH is a dark path, un-seeable at this time of night, though you could explore it.

    Made by Hayabusa

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  8. #88
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    "Hello?" Leland asked, talking into the receiver of his shop phone. When he looked down at it, preparing to hang up, he noticed that the phone was different. In fact, the more he followed the cord to the other end, the more he realized his surroundings were different. It was still night time, that much was certain, but instead of holding the store phone he was standing in an old-timey phone booth holding an old-timey phone. But how was this possible? Did he hit his head on something? Did the woman in his shop have any thing to do with this?

    He wracked his brain for a scientific explanation as he looked around, realizing that his surroundings had changed completely. He was staring at a park that had ornate street lamps lighting the area, only no one was there. The further he looked into the park, he noticed a train station that sadly read "closed." "Closed? On Mardi Gras? That's...strange..." Leland said, still clutching the payphone in his hand.

    "I must be dreaming. I'm still back in my sh-" he turned around and saw a brick road that went around the entire park, buildings, another brick road with more buildings and what he thought was a person standing further down the road. To his right there was a tea shop and he put the payphone down, reaching into his pocket to make sure he had money on him. "At least I know the name of one person here," he theorized, wondering if the owner Janine was around, if she might be able to help him make sense of this.

    He took his first step out of the payphone and noted that his surroundings were entirely different than anything he had experienced that day, and he thought for sure he must have hit his head on something. "If this doesn't pan out, maybe I'll see that stranger further down the road. Perhaps it's best to do some exploring first," Leland said, trying to keep a calm and rational mind about the situation. He was a doctor after all, and as he walked he tried to make observations about himself: he wasn't sweating profusely, he was still in his work attire, his heart rate seemed normal, to his knowledge his pupils weren't dilated, he didn't have a headache... and his reflection in the shop window confirmed that his pupils weren't dilated.

    It also confirmed that there was nobody in the shop, which was a disappointment to him. "Well... that was a bust. I guess I'm off to see the stranger," Leland said, only now realizing that he was thinking aloud. "Hello?" he called, walking down the street and making a right turn down the street in front of the payphones. "Hello?" he asked, coming closer to the figure ahead.

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