Hey, Roomie (Lars)

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Fionn
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Fri Nov 30, 2018 7:42 pm

Dentis 8, 2718, Late Evening
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"Out!"

The young man opened one eye and squinted in the direction of the newly opened doorway. It was quite dark in his little room, the young man having blown out his solitary candle rather than waste it, and so the light from the hallway was painfully bright. His arms were propped up behind his head but he moved one now to try to shield himself from the glare, squinting to see the face that went with the familiar voice.

"Missing me already?" he asked sarcastically, not making any move to obey the gruff order. "I thought I was in for the night. No?"

"Don't you start being a smart erse or I'll leave you in here!"

"Go on then. I was going to be here anyway so... where's the threat, Fred? Did you forget that a threat is actually supposed to be, you know, threatening?"

"You little clocking chroveshit!" the patron hissed, marching into the room, hand raised in silhouette. Predictable, endlessly predictable. He let it hit, turning his head away at the last moment so that it only glanced off his cheek. It stung, but he'd had worse and it had brought the older man close - too close. He found the other's groin, fingers pinching into sensitive flesh even through cloth. He tightened his grip and twisted, earning a high pitched mewl from his would-be aggressor. Fred panted, whimpering and crying and swatting helplessly at his junior. If he tried to lay a hand on him, the grip would somehow tighten and the man obviously didn't want to prolong his agony.

"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll have me kiss it better," he remarked bitterly, shaking his head in the dark. "What do you want, Fred? I'm not in the mood for this."

"Moving you."

"Moving me? What? Out of solitary?"

There was a nod in the dark, a frantic jerking that was easier to see now as light and shade had split into subtler hues, making more discernible than before.

"What they're gonna have me dorm with guys again?" he questioned, the grip loosening gradually until the other was released, beating a hasty retreat, wheezing and moaning.

"Yeah. After that... mind to keep you here... give you the buckets in the morning."

Fionn snorted. The buckets. So they'd haul him out in the cold and drench him in icy water. Yeah, it was a shock at the time and he often caught something after such treatment but they couldn't damage him. He was useful sometimes. Besides, he was a passive so he was innately dangerous; if they prodded him too sharply, he might blow up.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm shaking already," Fionn threw back, rolling his eyes as he got to his feet, feeling around for his uniform so he could dress in a haphazard fashion. The jacket was flung over his arm, the shirt barely buttoned and unevenly at that, buttons definitely not placed in the right holes.

"One of these days, you're going to be sorry, do you know that? One of these days, the gollies will sort you good and proper. You'll be properly fucked then," Fred commented with a nasty little laugh.

His patron had retreated to the doorway, regarding him sourly. When the young man stepped out, he reached up to straighten the other's collar.

"Look, no harm done, right? Little sore but you've had rougher," Fionn retorted with a wink, slapping him on the chest before his hands found their way into their habitual place in his trouser pockets. There might have been a slight softening in expression, a hint of an almost-smile on Fred's face before he jerked his head in the direction he wanted his charge to walk.

"So... what is it this time? Worried about what I get up to alone in the dark or hoping I can be reformed? Or is it that they're worried about what others get up to in the dark with me without people around to snitch?" the young man asked, his expression sly as he glanced back to the patron. Honestly, it'd been better when it'd been dark because at least then he hadn't had to look at the bastard. Thinning red hair, an unpleasantly ruddy and pockmarked face, otherwise pasty skin with unpleasant texture and the beginning of a paunch. Fionn was willing to put up with plenty of things but by the Circle, it was a lot easier when he didn't have to see what he was doing.

"Just shut up, will you? Don't need everyone overhearing what your sorry erse is up to this time. They're all sick of you as it is, they don't need to hear your prattle."

"Oooh, prattle, excuse us. Did the golly masters teach their little pet such a fancy word?" the blond asked with a twisted grin, shaking his head. "Doesn't matter. It always goes the same way, doesn't it? Not like I need the details of the sorry sods. I'll know all about them soon enough."

He lapsed into silence, the older man muttering darkly behind him but he took no notice, allowing himself just to enjoy the freedom to stretch his legs. It wasn't as if he hadn't been able to move around before, only today he'd been let out to the kitchens to be put to work, but this was better. Sure, he couldn't go behind the walls of this cursed place but he had more opportunity to move now, more chance to get up to no good before they came down on him like a ton of bricks again.

"Here!"

The bark made him slow, head twisting to see which door the patron meant. He stopped and pointed to check but the redhead was already moving to it, rapping on it sharply to give some warning before he entered. Fionn wondered with amusement how often patrons must walk in on some form of fornication, their pretence of warning not really much of one at all.

The room that was revealed wasn't too crowded, only two occupants within and the blond allowed his gaze to skim over them with disinterest, seeking out the nearest empty bed and making a beeline for it. He had to twist his body sideways to slip by Fred to do so but there was no stopping him.

"Fionn, this is Lars and- Clock it all, can't you ever have manners?" Fred snapped as he was barged past.

"Manners? Are you serious? You're a slave, I'm a slave, we're all slaves together! Let's all drop to our knees and thank our golly masters for crushing us under their boots! Piss off, Fred, this isn't my first room change," he threw back cockily, dropping onto his new bed. "One or both of these lads are supposed to reform me, right? Yeah, doesn't really matter, does it? You're all either too passive - haha, see what I did there? - too stupid or both to actually make an effort so you're all pretty much the same. Leave me alone to find out which sort these lads are, all right? There's a good man now, off you pop."

Something was twitching in Fred's face in his cheek just below his left eye. He'd really struck a nerve, he could see that. It just made him grin. Oh he was fun to wind up, even though it wasn't much of a challenge.

"Buckets tomorrow," the man growled by way of a goodbye before he slammed the door shut behind him.

"Talk about bottom of the spice pack! Right, you scraps! Might as well tell me about yourselves and tell me anything useful. Save me beating it out of you later," he told Lars and the other boy, cracking his knuckles as he said the last, the smile he shot them predatory in nature.
Last edited by Fionn on Mon Jan 21, 2019 10:13 am, edited 2 times in total.

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Lars
Posts: 447
Joined: Sun Nov 25, 2018 1:04 pm
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Race: Passive
: nil igitur mors est ad nos
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Sat Dec 01, 2018 6:02 pm

Brunnhold Dormitories | Dentis 8th, 2718 | Late Evening
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The day, like most others that made up his life, had been uneventful. Nothing of interest typically came across Lars' path, unless you wanted to call the occasional punishment interesting, and he did not. They were... boring. Dull. It was uncommon for him to get into trouble, but punishments were nonetheless expected when you were stuck with temperamental students and no-nonsense professors.

No punishments today, thank Alioe. Lars could only handle so much physical abuse. He was strong in mind, but his body, though more than capable of moving stacks of books and such, was easily bruised and broken. Easily healed, as well, but still he would always prefer to stay away from the outstretched palms and tight fists of his superiors. In all honesty, Lars had always found his condition rather curious; his tendency to bruise from the smallest of knocks, or bleed for lengths beyond what he suspected most passives did. He had never cared to ask any of those friendly professors if they might know the reasoning behind it.

"Where were you today? I thought you were on laundry duty with me," questioned the other passive in the room, the younger man laying across his bed. Lars never had many issues with him, and after sixteen years was rather used to sharing what little space they were given.

"He was in the kitchen," replied Lars, "cooking."

"All day? Surely not."

The blonde offered a shrug in response, ignoring his roommate's inquiry. He disliked unnecessary talk. He would respond when his superiors addressed him, but otherwise, it was hard to get much out of the man. Whether it was because of insecurity in his speech or simply a dislike for interacting with other servants, it was never clear.

"Well, I'm knackered. Far more work in the laundry room without your help."

"He thinks you should tuck in, then."

"Right, right, you don't want to talk. Night, Lars."

"Ni--"

It was unusual for the door to open at this hour, yet then it did, stopping Lars in his speech and calling the attention of both passives in the room. Even in the dull light of the oil lamp, sat upon the floor near Lars' bed, both figures were somewhat familiar.

One an older man, a thinning head of hair and somewhat sour expression. Lars gathered it was brought on by the other in the doorway; a fellow passive that he had never spoken with. He was sure he had seen him somewhere... in the kitchen, perhaps, but couldn't produce a name. Something about his posture and irritated expression told Lars that it had probably been better to not run into him.

Another roommate was something Lars didn't care about--he had roomed with dozens of other passives in his time, but had never garnered too many problems with any. There were the occasional ones that disliked something about him and felt the need to argue each night in the dorm, but he found it easy enough to tune out the words of other servants. They couldn't do much to him, after all, unless they wanted to be punished themselves.

Fionn, as given by the older gentlemen, had a harsh bark. Already he seemed displeased with both of his new roommates, and they hadn't even properly met. Who had raised this child, a tribe of unruly wicks? He was clocking loud, and certainly confident, considering the way he spoke to the man at the door with disrespect dripping from each word. Lars had his share of annoyance with the people of Brunnhold, but he couldn't imagine speaking out or acting on his irritation.

Which raised the question... why were they being subjected to him? Some sort of ironic punishment from the gods, maybe.

Lars remained silent and still until the door was shut once more. He propped himself up on his elbows for a moment, gazing across the room to the newcomer with a note of curiosity.

"Lars," offered the blonde, "he's usually on kitchen or laundry duty."

"Ignore the moony way he speaks," said the other passive, still lying beneath his blanket, "he wont bother you none. I'm Jamie. Usually in the laundry room. What's your story, why're you being switched in with us? Not that Lars or myself mind much. Just a bit odd to be switched at this hour, don't you think?"

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Fionn
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Sun Dec 02, 2018 8:36 pm

Dentis 8, 2718, Late Evening
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The oldest looking one opened his mouth but the words that came out... by Alioe, they were weird. It sounded as if he was both introducing himself and explaining the duties of the other boy in the room. It made him draw his brows together, one eye squinting almost shut as he tried to make sense of it. Then the younger one spoke and it clicked.

It was very weird but Lars appeared to be talking about himself in the third person. He’d encountered other passives that talked about themselves at a remove. Some referred to themselves by name alone, while others had opted for “this one”. So Lars was one of those self-demeaning passives and Jamie... well, Jamie seemed to think that they were going to be pals despite Fionn’s obvious threat. Perhaps he’d taken it as a joke or perhaps he was just dense. Oddly enough, he was inclined to go with the latter.

Blessed art thou amongst idiots, he thought, regarding Jamie sourly.

“Okay, you seem a little confused and gotten the wrong end of the stick here so lemme clear things up. Tell me if you need me to slow down. We aren’t going to be friends! he explained, enunciating the last few words with slow and exaggerated care. The blond eyed his new, younger roommate with obvious disgust. “Are you thick? Don’t you know who I am, huh? I’m the mad and bad one! I’m that passive that they lock up in solitary and whose brains they try to beat out because I won’t fucking behave! You two of the sorry idiots they think are good enough to rub off on me. Do you know how many like you they’ve tried on me? Do you know how many of them I beat the shit out of or broke in other ways and left them crying for the mothers who never fucking wanted them? And do you know why I do it, Jamie-who-thinks-we’re-gonna-be-best-buds? Because you all deserved it and I had nothing to lose.”

He let his words hang in the air while he met Jamie’s shocked, open-mouthed stare. The boy had paled, his lips trembling and moving weakly as if he was trying to sound something out. Instead, he smiled a little manically and shrank away from Fionn, tucking himself under his covers with a cough and a sheepish expression.

“So you um... don’t want to talk about it. That’s fine,” Jamie responded shakily, his voice higher than before. The smile persisted, eyes darting in Lars’ direction as if seeking backup from that quarter. Fionn followed his gaze, deciding that the other was sufficiently cowed for the moment. He wasn’t sure what to make of this Lars fellow. Moony seemed about right, maybe a little slow in the head too. He had an almost... dreamy cast to his features, something that seemed to hint at something vacuous beneath the surface.

Fionn didn’t trust it at all.

Plenty of people had thought he was thick when he got here. Plenty of people probably still thought he was thick. The appearance of outward innocence certainly helped with that illusion but he obviously wasn’t what he appeared. He wondered if Lars was or if there was something buried under that self-dehumanisation. Did the detachment hide something? He wasn’t sure. He considered the other boy - man, really - in silence for a few moments before his grin returned, more a display of teeth.

“Use ‘I’ to talk about yourself. Go on, I’m sure that you can. Unless you’ve rolled over completely. ‘Cos... that won’t do you any favours. Giving in. Doing whatever they want just guarantees that you’ll get fucked? Is that what you do, Lars?

He rose from his new bed, padding over to the other with surprising grace. “Do you let yourself get fucked? Huh?” he asked, almost a purr as he moved to jab his fingers into the other’s collarbone. If Lars let him jab and didn’t fight back then he’d go in for another one, much harder this time. “Well? Are you their bitch?
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Lars
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: nil igitur mors est ad nos
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Sun Dec 02, 2018 9:23 pm

Brunnhold Dormitories | Dentis 8th, 2718 | Late Evening
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This new roommate of theirs carried himself with such hostility; Lars couldn't tell if it was purely because he was annoyed with the situation, or if this sour disposition was just his normal. It had to be exhausting to keep that up all the time, if it was the latter, and something about the bitterness in his glance told him that this was the boy's permanence.

Lars took a breath, listening to Fionn rant and rage on about their current state--he could understand the frustration, but his own manifested quite differently. He might not enjoy spending his time with other passives, but he didn't take his anger out on them as this boy seemed to do. He almost felt bad for Jamie as his roommate was berated, but didn't bother running to the man's defense.

The more the angry passive spoke, the more his character familiarized itself to Lars. Come to think of it, he had in fact heard about Fionn from other servants; those with bruises and scars of other forms laid upon them by their ex-roommate.

He didn't want Fion turning his attention on him, no. If he could just keep his head down, stay quiet, and not be bothered by their new roommate... that would be best. Alas, this was not as the Circle intended, and Lars watched wordlessly as Fionn crossed the room to his bed.

An almost disoriented blue gaze slipped over his form; the innocent, child-like face such a contrast to the predatory showing of teeth. He couldn't consider that a smile, not with the insults that fell from the devil's tongue. Not with the sudden invasion of space; the only space Lars could claim as his own and keep others from entering and taking from him.

Who did this guy think he was, spewing his "advice" and calling him out like a misbehaving dog?

"Ah, he doesn't let them--"

He might've said something else in defense, but no words escaped his throat as fingers jabbed into the soft skin of his collarbone. It drew a noise of protest from the older passive; a bit of pain but more worry. Now he'd have to deal with a bruise for the next two weeks, with his condition.

"I haven't rolled over and given in to my own anger, as you seem to have done, bitch."

Perhaps this sudden snap is what sprung his own hand into action; smacking Fionn's fingers away without even thinking. It was clear immediately that Lars himself hadn't anticipated his actions, as shown in the widening of his eyes and the apologetic, nervous glint they took on.

"Oh, no," came out quickly, "he's sorry? Lars didn't mean to hit you, he's sorry, so sorry!"

His words reverted; the passive seemingly finding comfort from his familiar errors, nervous that his sudden outburst would only further the boy's anger. He had never hit someone before; never spoken out against his superiors or his peers.
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Fionn
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Tue Dec 04, 2018 3:10 pm

Dentis 8, 2718, Late Evening
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Jab.

Jab.

Smack!

Fionn's hand froze in mid-air, stopping where it had been pushed away to, the blond blinking in surprise for a few moments. He'd wanted to get a reaction out of the seemingly docile boy but he just hadn't expected his goading to be so effective and so quickly too.

A quick dart of the brown orbs showed that this was wholly out of character, Jamie actually gawping at Lars in a way that suggested that he'd never seen or heard anything like it. So it seemed that there was something under that quiet dreaminess then, something that was actually quite close to the surface. Perhaps at any other time, the snappy comeback might have made earned Lars a smack to the side of the head or possibly even a bloodied lip for his cheek. Perhaps it was how quickly he shrank back into himself after the outburst, so cowed and terrified that Fionn didn't want to hit him, not really. He didn't need to be taught manners it seemed.

His lips tugged further apart, most of the teeth actually becoming hidden again as ferality gave way to genuine mirth. He reached out to pat the older passive on the head but changed his mind halfway there, allowing fingers to slip through the locks and tangle lightly in the roots. He twisted ever so slightly, encouraging the other to tilt his head back to look up at him. It wasn't a gesture designed to hurt, not really. Oh it'd smart a bit, quite a bit more if Lars tried to pull away but something about the young man's demeanour told him that he wouldn't. Something about his posture said that he'd do anything to diminish his own suffering, expecting a punishment yet obviously hoping to soften the blow.

What had he said? That he didn't roll over? Certainly didn't look like that was the truth now. But for a moment there, he'd seen what was perhaps the true character of the older fellow. If it emerged again, it was a potential challenge, a fight waiting to happen but right now, Lars wasn't a problem and Fionn didn't think that he wanted to be a problem. Perhaps it was possible to coax that fire out into the open, to work some of his own influence over his senior. It would be deliciously ironic. If the other blond - he probably got called 'towhead' too - was corrupted instead of making Fionn behave, it'd be a wonderful 'Fuck you' to the galdori and their collaborating ersehats.

Grin still fixed on his lips, the mischievous youth tilted his head leaning close so that there were scant inches between their face. There was a gasp from their observer. It probably looked as if Fionn was about to kiss the other and given their current attitude, the dominance of the one standing and the evident submission of the one before him, there was a definite charge in the air between them. Whether it was sexual or something else wasn't entirely clear but was the passive going to kiss his victim? No.

Was he tempted? Definitely.

"Well, well, well, seems you do have some fire in there. Good to know that you're actually alive in there. I hate the dead ones, you can never have any fun with them," he murmured, gusting the scent of something sweet over the other's face. Fionn had been pilfering from the kitchens again. "But you aren't sorry. Right? You aren't sorry, are you, Lars?" he added, the grip tightened just a bit, a hint of threat. A touch of that previous nastiness returned, a gleeful dance in his gaze as he actually tried to draw a denial from Lars' lips. It was far more usual for him to coerce apologies and pleas from the lips of others.

He actually appeared to have forgotten that Jamie was in the room, his attention quite intent on Lars, his eyes constantly scanning his face, taking in every feature. He was actually quite nice to look at, his cheekbones, his jawline, all very pleasingly angular. It was an excellent mix of masculine and feminine but leaning just enough to the former to avoid the term 'pretty', at least in Fionn's eyes.

"Huh."

It was all he said before he let go, fingers disentangling themselves deftly, the hothead leaning back. The head cocked at a more extreme angle, a slight squint in one eye as he considered him.

"Huh."

"Um... what are you doing?" Jamie asked cautiously, making Fionn's attention snap back to him, instant fury in his expression as if a switch had been flipped.

"What business is it of yours?" he snarled, watching the younger boy flinch and shrink. "Shut your mouth and get some shut eye. Go on!" the last was a roar that made the other's head vanish rather abruptly beneath the covers. He watched the quivering shape for a moment, allowing his knuckles to crack once more and earning some satisfaction from the way the lump jerked in fright.

His gaze shifted back to Lars, his temper seeming to have cooled some and leaving something thoughtful in its place.
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Lars
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: nil igitur mors est ad nos
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Wed Dec 05, 2018 6:23 pm

Brunnhold Dormitories | Dentis 8th, 2718 | Late Evening
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Although he knew their other roommate was staring, shock written all over his face, Lars refused to look away from Fionn after smacking his hand away. If he moved just a bit, if he looked just to the right, the younger passive might flip out and retaliate in a manner much more harsh than a simple jab to the collarbone. Lars had long ago learned not to test the patience of an angry man.

To his surprise, Fionn didn't retaliate; didn't raise an extended palm to strike down across his cheek, or push back at his lanky form, or do... anything at all. The widening of his grin was at first a concern, a thought that maybe this boy was simply hesitating before the slaughter, but it fell with peace into a smile. That was... unusual. However, the hand extending towards him told him that this was no good sign, and Lars started to move away--but stilled when the hand reached his hair.

No, he didn't move away or struggle in Fionn's grip, but hesitantly allowed his head to be tilted upwards to meet the boy's gaze. Dark lashes gave way to steely blues; Lars' gaze seeming to inspect his fellow servant's face, and he noted the boy glancing across his own features. It brought a hint of insecurity, or perhaps vulnerability to the surface, as he looked across Fionn's fresh, young face.

Younger than himself by a few years, at least. Despite his harshness, the light of youth still shone in his features. Lars couldn't recall what he looked like personally anymore. Though mirrors weren't hard to come across, he hardly spared a moment to look upon himself. His appearance didn't matter these days, it wasn't as if he was going out everyday to court someone. He was here to live out the rest of his miserable days serving their superiors.

Beneath a dull, dusted uniform, his heart felt as if it skipped a beat; Fionn closing so much of the space between them that Lars wished for a moment he would kiss him. Wi--wished, no, he thought he was going to kiss him. So much of his space was being invaded, and he honestly wasn't sure of how to react. Lars swallowed the lump in his throat, blinking as his new roommate once again spoke.

It was strange, the way Fionn spoke. It was as if he was trying to goad him, and coax some sort of response that Lars couldn't give. Did he really expect for him to take back his apologies and what, spit in his face? Is that what he wanted? Did he want for Lars to fight back, like he had never done before? He couldn't tell if these were attempts to stir the pot or simply piss him off, but he wasn't about to give in, not twice. His outburst moments ago had surprised Lars more than the others in the room, he knew that.

But still, Lars seemed to lean in to Fionn's grip, relaxing as his roommate inquired about the truths of his apologies. As if the boy had answered a question Lars had been wondering himself for years, and never cared to ponder. The fingers in his hair were so foreign and unfamiliar a sensation. He found himself almost enjoying it.

And then he let go. Lars blinked in surprise, having expected more of a punishment for his rudeness. That was all?

He was caught up in his own questions and thoughts as he considered what the hell this meant; what this other passive planned on doing now that the three of them were living with each other, and conflict had reared its ugly head already. This didn't seem unusual for Fionn, from what he gathered, but Lars wasn't sure he was all that happy about rooming with a man that was just as likely to hit him as he was to consider him almost sweetly. It was nothing Lars had dealt with while living with other passives, he realized as Jamie was reprimanded. Lars observed the other passive with careful consideration; wishing that he could feel bad for the boy in the bed. He was probably concerned for Lars' wellbeing, wasn't he. Jamie had always been a kind man.

Lars had always been a kind man, too. He was polite, kept his thoughts and opinions to himself, and respected authority without hesitation. He lived to serve, and was always quick to apologize and fix his mistakes, because that's what a good passive did, and Lars was a very good passive.

He was good. He was very good. Very, very good.

Wasn't he?

"No," murmured the passive then, shifting his eyes to look at Fionn once more as he finally answered his inquiry. He seemed solemn and reserved as usual now that he was out of immediate danger, but something in his expression was... different. One could call it 'new,' but that would inaccurately mean that it hadn't been there all along, beneath the surface.

"I'm not sorry."

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