✧ a hundred stories to tell // one-shot challenge

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✧ #91 (19%)

Postby blackbird. » Thu Dec 21, 2017 3:48 am

"we aren't in hogwarts!"
────────────────────────────────────────────────────

    "i may never pass for a perfect daughter" // characters: hua linh mai, piper jones // words: 1077

        It was like a ghost town.

        The library was eerily quiet, with only books to keep her company. She strolled down one of the many aisles, fingers tracing the spines of the endless novels and magazines and biographies.

        It was a shame that no one else seemed to enjoy the silence of the library. But, then again, compared to the bustle and crowd of what it had been like a few weeks before, it was a welcome solitude. She remembered walking into the place and finding it crammed with people, noses stuck in their books, eyes peeled to their computer screens. Examinations always seemed to make everyone such hard workers.

        Piper thought it was almost a sacrilege that the enclave of knowledge was used so callously. In the span of a day, the most popular place in the entire school had become abandoned. It didn't seem right to her.

        But at least she knew the value of the place, even if the other students didn't. So she tilted her head back with a sense of superiority, and strode through the library. She could be comfortable there. It was practically her second home - and she was the only one there.

        Except, she wasn't.

        Piper recognised her instantly, with her jet black hair tied up into a messy bun - like she always did. "Mai?" It was posed as a question, but she already knew the answer.

        The petite girl looked up and smiled sheepishly at her friend. "Oh, hey Piper."

        "What are you doing here? It's getting really late," Piper asked, though she was afraid she already knew the answer to that.

        Mai's smile grew even more sheepish. "Well..."

        Piper's hands rested on her hips. "Let me guess, this has something to do with your parents, doesn't it?"

        "I needed a quiet place to think." Mai sighed deeply, staring at her hands on her lap. "I just don't know what I'm going to do."

        "Here's what you do," Piper said forcefully. "You go home, and-"

        "No!" Mai cried out instantly. "I can't let them see my report card! They'll kill me if they saw how terrible my grades are."

        Piper raised a brow. "Mai, you're third in the entire school."

        "Exactly! I'm only third. I should be first! And I got an A minus for chemisty - that's an Asian F!"

        Piper couldn't help it. She rolled her eyes at the statement. She knew she should be sympathetic towards her friend, but when she was complaining about how her amazing grades weren't amazing enough, it was hard. "You can't keep doing this every time you get your results back." She thought she didn't do a very good job of hiding her annoyance.

        "That's because I usually do well enough to please them," Mai replied. "But not this time."

        Piper sighed. "Mai-"

        "Maybe I could fake my death-"

        "That's ridiculous-"

        "I could leave a note and say I drowned myself-"

        "It's not going to help you-"

        "I could withdraw all my money and move to Hawaii-"

        "You need to start-"

        "That way I don't even have to finish university-"

        "You're overreacting-"

        "I'm not overreacting!"

        There was a stunned silence, and Piper realised with a start how stressed Mai really was, and how close she was to an emotional breakdown.

        Piper moved to sit across from Mai. "Hey, it's going to be alright." She thought those words were the emptiest she'd ever uttered.

        Mai seemed to think that too. "You don't know how disappointed my parents will be," she murmured. "I'm their daughter. It's my duty to make them proud."

        "And I'm sure you do," Piper said, more gently this time.

        Mai scoffed. "Terrible grades don't make parents proud."

        "No one's perfect, Mai, and one small - and I mean /small - blemish on your otherwise stellar track record doesn't un-do all the other good grades you've achieved." Piper offered her a smile.

        Mai leaned her head on her hand, elbow propped up on the table and frustrated tears in her eyes. "I wish," she began, longing in her voice, "I wish all of this expectation would just go away."

        "I know," Piper agreed, but she could feel impatience bubbling inside her. "But, I mean-" She let out an involuntary huff. "We aren't in Hogwarts!" She folded her arms. "You can't just wave a wand and expect all your problems away - you have to face them."

        "But how?" Mai asked, so innocently that Piper was instantly hit with a pang of guilt at losing her patience.

        "Talk to them," Piper said, gently this time. "Avoiding them won't change anything and running away will only make things worse. Besides, they're your parents. They deserve to know."

        Mai shifted in discomfort. "Yeah, but saying it is one thing...doing it is another."

        "That's life." Piper shrugged, wondering when - or whether - Mai would ever learn.

        "Maybe..." Mai paused. She smiled to herself. "I could use obliviate or something and make my parents forget I even-"

        Piper groaned. "Magic isn't even real."

        Mai gasped in mock shock. "As a proud Slytherin I disagree."

        "Mai, enough!" Piper snapped. "No more magic, no more running, no more trying to get away from this!"

        A tense silence passed between the two. Then, Mai sighed. "I know, I just...I'm scared."

        Piper sighed. She had been too harsh - and not for the first time. But what else could she do? Add to the flames of Mai's delusional idea to run away from her problems? She couldn't do that, and she knew it.

        "But I'll go," Mai said suddenly.

        Piper looked at her with wide eyes. "Really?"

        "Yeah," she said with a voice filled with reluctance. "You're right. I can't run forever."

        It was a rare moment, for Piper not to have anything to say. If she commended Mai, she'd be patronizing. And if she disagreed, then contradictory.

        "Okay," Piper said finally - simply.

        Mai stood up from her seat. "I should probably get home, then. My parents will be waiting for me." She had a resigned frown on her face.

        "Hey." Piper was standing as well. She reached out to hug her friend. "I'm here for you, okay? If you want to come over tonight to talk about it..."

        Mai smiled weakly. "Thanks, Piper."

        Piper just laughed. "Come on," she said, putting on her most reassuring grin. "I'll walk you to the station."

        Mai nodded, her smile widening a little. And somehow, a hope budded in her heart - a hope that everything would be alright.




[ note: who needs magic when you have a friend?
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Re: ✧ a hundred stories to tell // one-shot challenge

Postby Ranger of the North » Thu Dec 21, 2017 9:22 pm

Naw, I hope everything goes okay for Mai!
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Re: ✧ #81 (17%)

Postby Alpha* » Wed Dec 27, 2017 1:40 pm

blackbird. wrote:
"a stake through the heart would kill anybody..."
────────────────────────────────────────────────────

    manuel's debut story // characters: manuel mendez, violet lecter // words: 1192

        Manuel burst through the doors of Harrenhall Mansion, a gun in his hand, a stake and hammer in his pocket. His skin reeked of garlic, and cloves of it hung on a chain around his neck.

        He took a few more steps in. It was quiet. Eerily quiet.

        The place was dark and damp, with only the moonlight shining through the windows to illuminate the haunted mansion. He wrinkled his nose at the scent of rotting wood.

        A cold breeze wafted through and Manuel shuddered despite himself. The place was colder than the outside, and scarier too. Who knew what secrets the walls held, and what monsters. The thought itself made him reach up and hold the crucifix hanging from his neck.

        A rustling sound came from his right and he whirled around, hand flying to the gun on his belt. But when he saw its source, he relaxed. It was just the wind, rustling the leaves on the trees.

        He began looking around the place, noticing things that didn't belong in any normal human household. On the walls hung large oil paintings, depicting tall, thin people with gaunt faces. A variety of weaponry filled the place - from lances, to sickles, to maces, to battle-axes - weaponry that didn't belong in that century, or even the century before.

        There was a book, thick and important-looking, resting on a book stand. Silently, Manuel crept towards it until he found himself looking at the cryptic words on the yellowed pages of the book. It wasn't in English, but rather, a rune-like ancient.

        He looked closer and noticed small annotations written in cramped, spidery script. He moved his head a little closer and deciphered some of the words. aim for jugular vein. children have sweetest blood. human liver eat raw.

        An involuntary retch came from inside him and he turned away from the book. He had seen all he needed to confirm his suspicions: the man living in that house was a vampire.

        From the basement came a creaking sound, and Manuel eyed the narrow flight of stairs leading downwards. Of course the monster would be hiding in the basement. He removed his gun from his holster and held it up, aiming at anyone - or anything - that dared to attack him.

        One step at a time, he descended into the basement, his heart thumping loudly and forcefully in his chest. His mind was sharp, his eyes peeled for any form of movement. He knew to shoot first and ask questions later. A monster couldn't continue to roam the world and killing people just to satisfy his own disgusting appetite. He knew what needed to be done, and he was the one to do it.

        He reached the bottom of the stairs and stared at the door for a moment, left just slightly ajar. A thin streak of dim light streamed from the basement. He took a breath and tapped the door. It opened silently.

        The place was dim, lit only by a small, single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. But even in the darkness, he could still see.

        He could see the monster himself, tall and thin, clad in a long, dark cloak, arms raised and hand clutching a bloodied knife. He could see the table in front of the creature, on which lay a man, strapped down with rope and covered with blood.

        Manuel didn't hesitate. He cocked his gun and fired five shots at the murderous beast. But he knew better than to wait. Gunshots and metal bullets would do nothing to kill an immortal creature. So he ran forward and plunged a stake right through his heart.

        There was blood everywhere. The man let out a pained cry and began weeping. And Manuel watched. He watched as the life left the eyes of another man, a man he just killed.

        But something wasn't right. The vampire was dead, but his body was still upright, his arms still raised and his hand still holding a knife.

        Suddenly, the lights turned on, bright white light shining in his eyes. And Manuel saw the truth.

        The body lying on the table was a fake. The knife in the man's hand was tied there with string, his body was propped up with stilts and wires suspended his arms from the ceiling.

        Confusion shot through him as he stared at the sight, then at the fresh blood covering his body and his clothes.

        "Bravo, Manuel," came a voice. He knew that voice before he looked up to see its source. That was the voice of sweet nothings in his ear, the voice which echoed through his bedroom as they lay together, the voice he thought belonged to an angel. He was wrong, he saw that.

        "Violet," he greeted, turning to face her. "What's going on here?"

        "An execution of justice." All kindness and affection that was ever in that voice was gone, replaced by coldness as sharp as ice. "Believe me, if there was another way, I would have taken it."

        Manuel looked at his blood-stained hands and at the lifeless body of a man standing in front of him. He had murdered a man. "There was a trail of blood that led to his house, and that book about eating human livers..."

        "I needed to find a way to convince you to kill him." Violet shot him a wry look. "You always were the righteous type, and well-" She paused and shrugged. "A stake through the heart would kill anybody..."

        Manuel put his head in his bloodied hands. "I killed a man...I killed a man..." Then he faced Violet, fury in his eyes. "You made me kill a man."

        "I didn't make you do anything," Violet retorted.

        "You tricked me!" Manuel snapped. He seethed through a clenched jaw. "Why? Why couldn't you have killed him yourself and leave me out of this?"

        A glimmer of guilt flickered through her eyes, but she remained calm, professional even, with her branded, dry-cleaned purple dress. "It's not my style to get my hands dirty."

        "And it's 'your style' to make me kill an innocent man?" he spat back.

        "That man was far from innocent!" Violet cried. For a moment, she broke. Her cold and rigid exterior cracked and beneath that was fear and anger and hatred in their purest form. It only lasted a second, and her mask was back on, her walls back up.

        Manuel shook his head. "This wasn't right."

        "Right and wrong isn't so clear, Manuel. Sometimes we have to define it ourselves." She pointed a manicured finger at the dead man. "That man was a monster. He needed to die."

        Manuel remained silent, gaze fixed on his blood-stained hands, tears forming in his eyes.

        "Manuel..."

        "Leave, Violet. I never want to see you again." He tried to sound angry, tried to hurt her like she'd hurt him. But he just sounded sad and pathetic.

        Violet sighed, but complied, her stilettos clacking loudly against the concrete floor, the sound echoing through the room.

        Once she left, once he heard her close the door and ascend the stairs, he crumpled to his knees.

        And he began to weep.




[ note: justice is a human construct.



This is beautifully done
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Thanks to all those in any kind of uniform and to those who have been in uniform.
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Sadly i have a life outside CS with a job...and other things[color=#00BFFF]”
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(this was a Birthday Presant from Accio Donut :p and no, i don't own the picture) )
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Re: ✧ a hundred stories to tell // one-shot challenge

Postby blackbird. » Sun Feb 04, 2018 2:08 am

Ranger of the North wrote:
Naw, I hope everything goes okay for Mai!


      in my head it goes fine! she's young and fragile but she'll learn and grow c:


Alpha* wrote:This is beautifully done


      thank you!! ^^
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Re: ✧ a hundred stories to tell // one-shot challenge

Postby Ranger of the North » Sun Feb 04, 2018 12:50 pm

blackbird. wrote:
Ranger of the North wrote:
Naw, I hope everything goes okay for Mai!
      in my head it goes fine! she's young and fragile but she'll learn and grow c:
Great :3
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✧ #96 (20%)

Postby blackbird. » Thu May 10, 2018 9:57 am

"sir, where are your pants?"
────────────────────────────────────────────────────

    unsure if pants refers to actual pants or trousers?? // characters: daniel clarke, elaena carter, servant // words: 905

        The sunlight streamed into the room through the windows, its rays like a million golden threads pulled taut, with thousands of tiny golden ballerinas dancing across them.

        Daniel groaned softly to himself, eyes squinting at the brightness landing across his face.

        He rolled over, turning his back to the dreadful light. Hadn't he drawn the curtains the night before? He remembered doing so. Or hadn't he? What had happened the night before, anyway? He thought back to the evening. He had a wine glass in his hands, and he was laughing. He was happy, happier than he'd ever been before. Why was he so happy? Was it-

        He froze.

        He wasn't alone in his bed.

        There was an woman lying next to him, with hair the colour of a burning fire and skin as fair as virgin snow. Her eyelids were closed, and her chest rose and fell with every breath, like the surging and ebbing of water on the sand.

        Daniel thought he'd never seen anything so beautiful.

        The memories came like a flood - the church furbished with pastel flowers, the banquet hall packed to its full capacity, his bride adorned in the purest white.

        His bride.

        It thrilled him to even think it.

        He lingered for a moment longer, before pulling his gaze away. He had the rest of his life to admire her beauty - and remind her of it, too.

        He found a morning robe and threw it on, before scanning the room. It was his own, with his bed and his sitting desk, and even the clothes for the day which his butler had laid out for him. It was all the same, and yet he scarcely recognised it. Everything looked different when there was his new wife was lying on his bed.

        And everything would be different, now that he was a husband.

        He felt like he was in a haze, as if the bliss of marriage had settled like the morning fog, obscuring everything else in the world but Elaena, who shone brighter than the sun itself.

        A smile found its way onto his face. He couldn't help it; he was just so happy.

        She stirred.

        "Morning." She had a tired smile on her face, and her hair was in a thousand different directions. And yet, she looked as celestial as an angel.

        He closed the distance between them in a few eager strides. "Good morning, my darling," he replied, kissing her forehead with no small amount of tenderness. "How are you feeling?"

        "Tired," she admitted with a soft yawn. "It was a long night."

        "Indeed, it was." He laughed lightly. "But the wedding is over, and we don't have to worry about a single thing. And not to mention, now..." He took her hands and brought them to his lips. "Now I have you all to myself."

        Elaena gave a shy smile, giggling lightly. "Sometimes it feels odd," she remarked, resting her cheek against her palm. "All my life I've dreamed of a fairytale wedding, with a million guests and an extravagant feast...but I never thought it'd actually happen. And now..."

        "Now it has," Daniel replied, reassurance and firmness in his voice. "And you forgot one part of a fairytale wedding."

        "Oh?"

        Daniel grinned. "The handsome prince."

        Elaena laughed. "Of course! How could I forget - the most handsome prince of all." She bat her lashes at him flirtatiously.

        Impulse overtook his senses, and he kissed her again.

        Elaena leaned into the kiss, before pulling back and flopping backwards onto the bed in a rather un-ladylike manner. She grinned the grin only a newlywed could have. She sighed in bliss. "I think we're going to be very happy."

        "I do too." He shuffled next to her, pulling her onto his chest. Man and woman; husband and wife; two persons united in a sacred bond that could never be broken - the way things were meant to be.

        They settled into a blissful silence.

        Until they were disturbed, by the sound of a fist rapping against the wooden door. "Your highness?"

        They sat up instantly, retracting their arms from around each other. "Come in," Daniel called out, trying to keep the fluster from his voice and the blush from his face.

        It was one of Daniel's butlers who revealed himself, opening the door and entering the room. "Pardon the interruption, your highness. Your sister is wondering if you will be dining with her."

        Elaena looked to him and gave him a tiny nod. Daniel smiled. "Yes, both me and my wife will be joining her."

        The servant bowed. "Very good, your highness. Shall I help you dress?"

        Daniel nodded, and began to get out of bed.

        "I'll take that as my cue to leave," Elaena announced. "I'll see you later!" She brushed her lips against his cheek, and whisked out the door before he could reply.

        And suddenly, he felt an emptiness in his soul, like the sun in the sky had gone to sleep and he was plunged into darkness. And all he could do was wait for the sunrise again.

        He stood up straight and held out his arms as his servant helped him choose his clothes for the day, flitting about the room and throwing fabric onto him.

        And when he thought about it, he found it odd that Elaena had left so quickly. Usually she was one for dramatic, long-drawn goodbyes, waiting and fighting for more time. Was it because she was too eager to dine with his sister? Or perhaps it was anxiety, after her first night as a wedded woman? Or perhaps-

        "Sir," his servant called out.

        "Hmm?" Daniel turned to face him.

        His servant pointed to an empty cupboard. "Sir, where are your pants?"

        Daniel blinked. Then, he threw his head back and let out a laugh.

        Of course.

        Of course.

        "You can ask my wife that," Daniel said in response to his servant's confused look.

        Oh, how he was looking forward to married life.



[ note: marriage - in which the partnership of the whole of life begins
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✧ #5 (21%)

Postby blackbird. » Mon Oct 22, 2018 8:50 am

"what do you mean, NO?!"
────────────────────────────────────────────────────

    dedicated to my sister // characters: landon o'connor, kwan jae sung // words: 796

        Landon was afraid.

        He tried to calm his heart. Deep breath in. No turning back. "Jae Sung." He strode through the double doors. He thought he sounded much braver than he felt.

        "Landon! I'm glad you're here." Jae Sung leaned back on his seat and propped his feet up on his desk. "I hope you're here to bring me dinner, because I'm hungry!" He laughed. Landon didn't laugh with him.

        "It's still being prepared." Landon paused. Fear is for the losing side. He steeled himself. "Jae Sung, I have something I need to say."

        The young heir dismissed him with a wave of his hand. "Food first."

        Landon almost did as he was asked, almost turned and walked out and obeyed his instructions because that's what butlers were paid to do. But he didn't. "Sorry, but...no."

        Jae Sung blinked, confused. "Say that again?"

        Landon tilted his head upwards. "I said...no."

        "No?" His brows began to furrow. His eyes narrowed into slits. There was his quick temper, like an impertinent child being denied his toy.

        Landon's reply was firm. Solid. "No."

        "What do you mean, NO?"

        Landon inhaled deeply. "I don't take orders from you anymore."

        "Of course you do! That's what I pay you for!"

        "I quit." There. He said it. It was out in the open.

        "You quit? You can't quit!" He was seething.

        But Landon didn't care. "I'll be gone by the morning."

        "You're joking!"

        "I'm not."

        Jae Sung seemed to realise the gravity of the situation. He sighed, leaned back in his chair and shook his head, dissipating his anger. He gestured to the chair across from him - a chair reserved only for guests. "Sit." ...But Landon was not a guest.

        And Landon knew he didn't have to. He didn't owe Jae Sung anything. He could just walk out and never come back. But... "Alright." But he didn't want to.

        Jae Sung clasped his hands together and stared at his former employee. "There is great prestige in your job." Landon nodded. "The pay is high." Another nod. "And your family has served mine for years." And another. "You have no reason to quit. So why?"

        Landon was no stranger to his tactics. He'd watched from the sidelines as the man he served spoke to clients and executives and politicians with that exact same tone and that exact same action. He thought he ought to feel honoured. "I want to pursue other interests."

        "Such as?"

        "I..." Landon hesitated. Lie! His brain was practically yelling at him, telling him that honesty wasn't worth a lifetime in prison. But looking across at the man he'd been trained to serve, at the heir to a giant empire, at the person who, despite everything, he considered his friend...he couldn't do it. "I'm joining the revolution."

        He suspected Jae Sung tried very hard not to look surprised. "Revolution?"

        Landon nodded, grimly. "The communists." A confession like that could warrant him the death penalty. He could be arrested and hanged for saying that. He just hoped his trust wasn't misplaced.

        "Why?"

        "Because," Landon began with a tilt of his head upwards. "I believe in the cause. Equality. Justice. Can you imagine it? A world, where a person can become anyone they want to be, where people aren't held back because they're poor, or because they're not of a certain social class? The lowest people have the potential to be great, if only they were given the chance." Landon's eyes were blazing, in pride, in conviction, in idealism.

        But Jae Sung frowned. "And this cause of yours, is it worth dying for?"

        "Yes."

        Jae Sung nodded, grimly. "I see."

        Landon swallowed thickly. "Jae Sung...I want you to come with me."

        "Me?" The young businessman shook his head. "If you think I'm the kind of person to join you, then you've misjudged."

        Landon leaned forward, eyes pleading. "But Jae Sung, don't you want to be on the right side of history? Don't you want to fight for what's right?"

        "And what is right? Who gets to decide that?" Jae Sung shot back, before sighing. "Right,wrong; change, constancy; and the lines that lie between them...that isn't my place." He bowed his head. "No. My place is with my family. No matter what."

        "Alright." He always was more focused on the smaller picture, Landon mused. "But now that you know about me...will you tell the police?"

        "I should be offended that you think so little of me." Jae Sung smiled, professional and composed. The way he did when he was doing business. "I won't. But in return, I hope my family can get some form of immunity...in the event your revolution succeeds."

        Landon held out a hand. "It's a deal."

        Jae Sung shook it. "Good. I hope you find what you're searching for." They both stood up, hands clasped firmly in each other's. "And Landon...take care of yourself."

        "Thanks, Jae Sung. You too."

        Landon realised the position they were in. A position where barriers had been broken. They stood with shoulders squared, eyes meeting each other firmly, two parties separated by a desk. No longer were they master and butler, employee and employer.

        They were equals.





[ note: "proletarians have nothing to lose but their chains"

note 2: i call this one-shot - 'i haven't written anything in half a year and this is my way of getting back into things'. sorry if it's trash DX
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Re: ✧ a hundred stories to tell // one-shot challenge

Postby Alpha* » Mon Oct 22, 2018 9:54 am

Awesome!
Image
Image

Thanks to all those in any kind of uniform and to those who have been in uniform.
✰»✰»✰»✰»✰»✰»✰»✰»✰»✰»✰»✰»✰»✰»✰»✰»✰»✰»
Sadly i have a life outside CS with a job...and other things[color=#00BFFF]”
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(this was a Birthday Presant from Accio Donut :p and no, i don't own the picture) )
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Re: ✧ a hundred stories to tell // one-shot challenge

Postby Ranger of the North » Mon Oct 22, 2018 7:26 pm

BB! You're back!! :D Your one-shots are always so powerful, I love it <3
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Re: ✧ a hundred stories to tell // one-shot challenge

Postby blackbird. » Wed Oct 24, 2018 8:05 am

Alpha* wrote:Awesome!

      thank you so much!! you're always so kind and generous with your compliments ^^


Ranger of the North wrote:
BB! You're back!! :D Your one-shots are always so powerful, I love it <3


      yup i've gotten busy but i'm trying to get back into things c:
      thank you so much for your comment!!
      you're like so amazing ^^
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