westwhere | the sunken

the sunken | moonrise

THE SUNKEN | MOONRISE

Image source.

The final Arc VI event lasts three days ICly and until 23 July OOCly. Yancai goes back another two years in time to the Huntress’ visit, Miang-Si’s corruption and the memory-meddling rite of the ladies of the lake.

The party can choose to stay neutral, only heading to the House of Commerce to access its now-active beacon — or they can inevitably get mixed up in the affairs of Yancai and endanger the village’s time loop.

For a quick catch-up: the latest clues | everything about Arc VI.

BOAR’S HEART

Image source.

Rattled, on high alert, feeling watched and skin prickling from static electricity, characters wake to find Yancai has gone back another two years in time. It is now nearly dry, barring rare waterways. Mould is absent. The village bustles with activity: a heavy influx of new arrivals comes by sea, and frequent fishermen’s and merchants’ markets set up in the open road — enjoy fresh fish delicacies, discounted pearls, rare cloth textiles and dyes that include the unique Yancai green!

■ No more hauntings take place, and only one moon loiters above the village. Villagers still remember the party under their false identities.

■ Word has spread of the conflict between elder Quanze Tsaymien’s council and a beautiful woman who has taken up in the forests at the village’s outskirts. Gossipmongers say she wastes away in the woods weeping — while ground cracks beneath her feet, grass wilts, waters poison and animals drop dead nearby. Young men are drawn to her and are later forcibly recovered in a state of rambling, feverish exhaustion. Village healers gladly accept your nursing help.

■ Village elders have given the woman — correctly identified by the party as the Huntress — until the following sunrise to leave Yancai on pain of death. You have 24h to encounter her.

■ The forests are livelier than in previous iterations of Yancai, but you feel perpetually… watched, as if sharp eyes follow your progress. These heavy gazes may belong to the young men bewitched to protect the Huntress, or to razor-clawed venom-spitting creatures that hunt her.

■ You may find some of the aforementioned creatures bleeding on the forest path. They possess slightly above canine intelligence, cannot communicate in human tongues, and hesitate to let you approach — but nursing one might reward you.

■ The death-touched (necromancers, those who died or revived, or otherwise marked) may optionally feel compelled to join the Huntress. Physical distance dwindles her pull, as can your own magic or solutions.

■ Luck (?) leads you to a silent and bloodied forest clearing, come sunset. Here, two dozens of Yancai’s recent dead have risen alive and surround the Huntress, some battling the creatures that assail her, while she speaks to 16-year-old village beauty Miang-Si. There is a gaping, if regenerating hole in the Huntress’ chest; in one hand, she holds her yet-beating heart she cuts in several parts she wraps in parchment. She asks Miang-Si to bury these pouches near Yancai to ‘hold her power close,’ in exchange for permanent and ever-blossoming beauty.

■ Wait as the Huntress and her forces retreat — then catch up to Miang-Si, capture her, or find the pouches. The ground where they are buried is desaturated, brittle, nearly pulverised. Hawks and ravens circle above and plunge down to claw at intruders, or attempt to pick up children or feebler adults. To the magically or death-sensitive, the pouches emanate a revolting aura of withering death.

■ Beware if heart pouches were buried beneath aged, thick trees — their roots burst out like nooses and writhing spiders’ legs, looking to either slam you against the tree trunks or entrap you within.

■ Finding at least two heart pouches prevents the dead from rising in Yancai in the years to come! Keep the heart cuts fettered — touching these parts directly can overwhelm you with the need to consume this or other hearts, to compensate for the sudden and unfeeling… coldness in your chest.

WAKE, UNWAKEFULLY

Image source.

Sunrise finds the Huntress gone from Yancai — while waves of the dead rise from the sea to attack the village. Some come chained, or dragging pieces from the casket-ships in which they were set for water burial.

This is the first undead attack witnessed by Yancai villagers, who are largely clumsy, slow and petrified. Some sentimentally believe their revived relatives never died and plead not to kill them. Many are caught in undefended areas, such as open port harbours, fishing boats, markets — and need help to travel to their families. The Huntress’ spell starts dissolving by midday, with the dead largely pulling back into sea and lake waters

■ Beware the village waterways: touching the water replenishes the strength of the dead and saps yours. Look closely at the bottom of the waterways, and you find them lined with dozens of resting corpses. Some wake slowly, as they clutch shards of glistening black mirror — best to… use a very long oar… or plunge very quickly to recover shards.

■ Carrying a mirror shard puts the dead around you to blissful sleep. Those who possess a cut of the Huntress’ heart can take control of up to 20 of the risen dead. Necromancers can control up to 10, even without such a token.

MOTHER MOON

Image source.

Come midday of Day II, Yancai villagers start to move freely and reunite with loved ones. Waters begin to gently rise and flood the grounds, while the first spores of black mould appear on walls.

The first to help the injured are the washerwomen of Yancai, who favour the young and magically sensitive. You notice they work in perfect synchrony and have developed a hand sign language they can teach you. Keep an ear out, and one might entrust they are hedge witches, the so-called ‘ladies’ of the lake.

■ Join them, either invited or unseen, when they gather at one of Yancai’s three great lakes. Each lady picks up one of the silver coins tossed in the water for luck-bearing. Take one yourself, and you will be able to breathe and speak underwater, following as the ladies dive and swim through thin underwater passageways. Beware countless skeletal remains that line the lakes and sinister fish — both burst out to shackle your limbs, or sound the alarm about intruders.

■ You find the ladies have begun to shelter and ward the dead in lake caves, to avoid their rising up again. The ladies re-emerge in the forest, speaking of a protection rite they agreed with the elders’ council. They are not strong enough to break the Huntress’ lingering spell, but hope to later recruit nascent witch Miang-Si, who teases she has power from the Huntress. For now, the ladies have decided to create a five-year time loop, moving Yancai back and forth in time whenever the dead attack.

■ To achieve their rite, the ladies use large pieces of black mirror confiscated from the Huntress’ dead and the energy of the hunter’s moon that shines down a bloody red tonight. Those with a lunar connection feel the moon aches, disgusted by this violation. Even those unaffiliated with the moon feel irascible and prone to violence while under its gaze.

■ Interrupting the rite rescues the moon, earning you a reward, and breaks villagers from the five-year loop, allowing them to live their true lives. It also exposes Yancai to the dead, unless you remove the heart cuts. Co-ordinate and choose wisely.

■ The ladies conduct their chanting, rune-painting and summons throughout the night of Day III in the forest. You have a wealth of options to break their spell: interfere with the magic flows, disrupt the guarded ash circle of convened witches, summon irate villagers to raid, persuade Miang-Si to intervene, break or steal the rite’s black mirror pieces… You can also reach out to the coven’s strongest witches, who agreed to sacrifice themselves to become overseers in the time flux — the Lumberjack, Red Lady, White Woman, Man in Black and the Milk-Toothed Babes. You can still sign up for a RNG draw to chat.

BAIT & BEACON

Image source.

To take attention off the ladies of the lake, Yancai’s council organises a sumptuous masked banquet and charity auction for the victims of the undead attack at the lavish House of Commerce. The House has been thoroughly cleansed by the time of your arrival, with only faint, clumsy traces of blood, decay and debris lingering from the previous offensive.

On site, servants are still jittery from the undead assault, while openly armed guards walk the grounds and answer any small provocation. Be kind to the staff or offer sympathy for their likely recent losses, and they might let you in unnoticed, or offer a hand.

■ Anyone who brings an item for the auction or who ~~can pretend s/he~~ possesses massive wealth can join the banquet. Show up with anything you can brazenly talk up as elite, exquisite or one-of-a-kind — or perhaps auction your services?

■ The House of Commerce contains a locked room with the village’s now fully active beacon. The Master of Commerce has the only key-tokens to access this quarter, somewhere in his study room — pick a lock, sweettalk the staff, or work your magic to get inside the study and grab one of the rune-inscribed tokens. The study room brims with scrolls, globes, letters to and from the Dawn’s Reach Trade Company and maps of… Arc I’s Sa-Hareth in the west, where hand-written news reports say the dead are rising.

■ Back at the banquet, the richest wine and… relaxing herbs and powders are offered freely or sometimes slipped into food to ease spirits. Aiming for levity, participants don comical animal masks or play a local game of ‘bait or hook,’ whereby they approach you with the aforementioned fishing bait or fish hook in closed fists, asking you to pick one. Depending on your choice, you must ‘bait’ the audience with a song or dance, or ‘hook’ them in with a joke or anecdote.

■ Around midnight, attendants are invited to an increasingly competitive auction, punctuated by elbowing, loud voices, crowding and the occasional threat. Beautiful concubines might stick to your arms, asking to be purchased this or that (exorbitant) small nothing as a gift. Participate to keep up your cover, but beware landing in hard debt!

■ Most banquet goers pretend they are indifferent to the undead attack, but some question whether the woman of the forest was to blame — while others mention that the mysterious, far too independent coven of the ladies of the lake is meeting even now, and might be cursing Yancai.

■ However you spend your night, the witch Karsa asks you to infiltrate the House of Commerce by dawns and attempt to leave through the beacon. This will only be possible if at least one person has picked up a key-token…!

QUESTIONS

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Clara runs right into his extended arm and makes a startled, slightly offended noise. ]

Nice football mom save.

[ Her words are whispered and it’s all the fanfare he’s getting. She has to admit though, this is something she’s missed with the Doctor. All he’s done lately is see her in the aftermath of awful things—her fault—so she hopes this will be like home and adventuring together. It’s slightly more deadly and terrifying than most planets, but they’re doing this. ]

It’d be so much nicer if it were karaoke. What can you see? Can you hear anything?

[ She can only sort of make out sounds and see flashes of movement. They’re gonna need a plan, although she wouldn’t put it past him to dive right into the action head first. At that thought, Clara reaches out and grabs his hand as if that might preemptively stop him. ]

Edited 2023-07-03 15:45 (UTC)

Clara. [ Just that one word, her name uttered in a mixture of relief to see her, consternation that she's out here to begin with, and complete distractibility with the moment at hand. ]

I can hear and see loads of things. You, talking when you shouldn't be here at all, a gathering of our old friends, the undead, throwing a surprise party for the Huntress, and the Huntress with a very large hole in the center of her chest.

[ Voice pitched even lower: ] Well, that was their first mistake. No balloons. Night's off to a terrible start.

[ It is like old times, he can't help but think, and though he's not pleased at her being present given the company they're keeping in the forest tonight, it's better that she's here with him than alone in the woods if she was going to be out here at all. He does hold her hand in return, though, squeezing it gently. Not yet, that gesture silently says. Wait and watch. ]

Edited 2023-07-03 18:21 (UTC)

What do you mean 'I shouldn't be here?' Neither should you! In fact, probably no one should be out here. But here we are, so let's be awesome.

[ Clara knows that he's been spooked by their incident with the dead, when she was force-fed the black mold and things were dicey. He's always over-protective when something happens to her, so she flashes him a smile of reassuring confidence. ]

I could go back for balloons, what color?

[ Just a joke, but she does have the rose petals with her, she always does after the Doctor made sure she could carry at least two safely. That's exactly how many she has. ]

Or, we could just make ourselves invisible, go investigate, and then come back here to come up with a plan.

Well, if we're going to be anywhere, best it's together. Only together. Like always, eh? The Doctor and Clara Oswald.

[ Running towards danger together, that's always far more acceptable. The together part, specifically. Not when she's off doing dangerous and foolish things alone. ]

Blue, of course! Orange, maybe, yellow —

[ Ah, but then— ]

Oh, you're brilliant! Brilliant and extraordinary. [ He grins a little now, still whispering, but then he reaches out to briefly hold her face, kissing her forehead with a bright smile. ]

Your rose petals, of course! Front row seats, up close and personal.

[ No matter the length of time she's traveled with him, she'll never fail to feel a little elated when the Doctor is obviously proud of her. It makes her grin, and even her eyes seem to dance for a second before she reaches for the makeshift necklace under her shirt. The stem and rose petals have never dried out and are safe inside a small, water-tight container. ]

Orange is an awful color, never, not even balloons.

[ She whispers that in return as she holds the stem between them. This takes her down to twelve petals remaining, but it's worth it. ]

Remember, we only get thirty minutes. And I don't think we'll be able to see one another even though we're both invisible, but I'm not sure. I've never been invisible with someone before.

[ Her eyes move from the two, gold-edged petals, back to the Doctor's. ]

So, the plan is to only watch?

[ Things never go according to plan, she isn't even sure why she's asking, but at least they can pretend they tried once the running starts later. ]

[ She knows he doesn't sit back and watch, he's not the sort, he's too impatient, he doesn't feel fear the way most would. But, there are times and situations — very rarely — when rushing forward would mean total calamity, particularly when he's bereft of his usual resources. Moving closer five minutes ago into the middle of a very large group of undead and other creatures battling it out near the Huntress would have been decidedly unbrilliant. But Clara — his spectacular Clara — has produced the precise thing they need to get closer. And now, he won't hesitate. ]

Clara, look at my face. Please, I'm insulted.

[ Only watch? ]

You're the one who was just standing here a second ago.

[ Check and mate, sir. But she's also grinning and puts her fingertips on the edge of one of the petals. ]

Race you to the camp.

[ She wouldn't. They'll be invisible, not soundless; Clara has better sense than that. But still—sometimes it's worth it just to see his face cycle through every possibility before settling on the realization that she's only kidding. Just for a treat to herself. ]

[ Excuse you, Clara. Don't try to poke holes in this.

He reaches for the other petal now, but then — ]

No, no, no running, absolutely no running, who said anything about —

[ Oh, but that look in her eyes. Of course she would. Get his hearts going before they even start. ]

— And you were basically joking, weren't you? Having me on, at a time like this, Clara Oswald?

[ She can't help but laugh quietly. ] Oh, come on, you love it.

[ And with that, she plucks her petal and watches as her hands begin to disappear, then her arms. ]

I have to make sure you're on your toes, not too relaxed.

[ Once again, she takes his hand before she potentially can't see it, because if they lost each other right away, that'd be utterly hilarious. Once he's had his turn and he's still visible to her, Clara lets go with relief. ]

Good, I can still see you. I know this magic works on the undead, I've been able to hide from them before, but I dunno about the Huntress. If she spots us, what do we do, tackle her?

[ You can take the girl out of the contact sport, but apparently, the girl never forgets how to drop someone. ]

I'm not admitting to anything! [ But before he disappears from sight, that smirk on his face that can't be entirely concealed is a dead giveaway. Yes, in fact, he does love it.

Lucky for them the magic cloaks them from the undead, but as Clara so astutely noted, they haven't a single idea whether or not it will hide them from the Huntress. So, they're both safer than they were a moment ago and...perhaps in more danger than they could imagine.

They should have a plan, an escape route, a clever way out of this if it all goes sideways. The Doctor always has a plan, after all, even if that's simply, keep going and sometimes, run. ]

Pity I left my water balloons back at the lighthouse, those would work a treat. [ Balloons again. He misses those. Ah, but probably not the time — right, important business here, the Huntress and her small army. ]

Tackle, yell loudly, run as fast as you can. Not a chat, though, I'd avoid that. Not the conversationalist, this one.

[ He softens, more serious now. ] Stick close and we'll be fine. It's just another Tuesday.

Do you have a new thing for balloons we haven't gotten around to talking about yet?

[ Like the spoon thing, that was a weird time, but it's also him, so maybe not that weird after all. ]

Wait, have you tried talking to her already? Or are you mostly going by the undead and making a pretty good assumption?

[ She knows that he worries, and so she gives him a small smile. ]

Either way, we've got this, me and you.

I have a new thing for everything. [ As if that explains it all! ] And yes, we have got it, we always have. The Huntress and I haven't spoken formally, but I've heard about her overall demeanor of late. Which reminds me, there's something you need to know —

[ Here, he does get serious. ]

She's able to control those associated with Death. Wrath spoke about this recently. And I'm — well, intimately acquainted. If her influence is anything like Rathakku's, I'll feel it first, a whisper at the back of my mind. I fought him off, I can fight her, if she tries. But if I tell you to run, you have to go. Promise me or we won't take a step further.

[ At least she can tell when he's being serious, and when he's being really serious. She looks at him, taking that information in, quiet for a few seconds before finally replying. ]

You didn't tell me you had to fight off Rathakku.

[ Now isn't the time to get into that conversation, so Clara pushes a hand through her hair and nods up at him, agreeing. ]

I promise. But it won't come to that. Come on, we don't have that much time on the invisibility clock.

[ Oh, don't mind him completely ignoring any further discussion of Rathakku. Nothing to see here, nothing to talk about. ]

Twenty-eight minutes and counting.

[ Then he nods and tilts his head forward to lead her, trusting her to stick close, to be right there at his side. Deft steps guide him nearer to the Huntress, and as they get closer still, it's easier to see now that she's holding her own beating heart before proceeding to cut it into pieces. It's difficult to stifle a cheeky remark about all this, but he won't tempt the range of her hearing, and instead just looks at Clara, sure that his eyes say everything. ]

[ As they walk, Clara stays close enough that every now and then, she brushes against his arm. It isn't long before her mind processes what, exactly, she's seeing, and one hand presses over her mouth.

Looking back at him, her own eyes say this is super fucking weird before looking back at the action and moving her hand over her chest. She can't feel anything, of course, but watching someone cut their own heart into pieces is making her a little queasy. She's outside and feels like she needs air.

Unable to tell what, exactly, the Huntress is trying to accomplish, Clara nods her head in that direction, asking silently if they should keep going. ]

[ Yes, yes it is weird, though he's more fascinated than anyone else would be. But, Clara's used to that by now. She already knows, of course, she should already expect the look of captivated delight in his eyes that somehow blends equally and perfectly with a mixture of caution. Yes, the Huntress is dangerous. Yes, they need to be careful. Yes, but, but, this is all very intriguing.

He's so desperate to make a cheeky joke and he's fighting all of his instincts to keep quiet; a monumental task for him, Clara, be proud!

When he sees her hand go over her mouth, he reaches out quickly to cover her hand covering her mouth in turn. Stay quiet, he seems to say.

And as she nods, he keeps the hand over her hand over her mouth, while simultaneously gesturing with his other hand to offer a helpful thumbs up. ]

Edited 2023-07-04 18:21 (UTC)

[ Clara is proud, or at least she will be when she thinks back on this moment later. This is possibly the longest she's ever seen him go without talking—it's been less than two full minutes.

When his hand covers her mouth, her features turn to confusion and they stay that way through his gesturing. He's absolutely ridiculous, and it's a good thing they're invisible, else everyone would see the flailing limbs of an idiot from behind a bush.

She wants to creep forward, watching with her own (nauseated) fascination as the pieces of heart are wrapped meticulously. What she wants to do is hear, but Clara looks at the Doctor first to be sure he's still alright. One hand cups to her ear, and she points in the direction of the Huntress, then shrugs her shoulders as if to say I can't hear anything. ]

[ A miracle in the forest, it would seem: the Doctor, silent, for more than five minutes. Will wonders never cease? The only thing keeping him from going madder by holding back his tongue is the sudden thrill he gets when he realizes he can use a series of endless hand gestures, many of which being of a possibly dubious clarity.

He finally drops his hand from her mouth and then gestures to his lips with his index finger, preemptively shushing any comment she might want to make. Then, he tugs on her hand to lead her forward.

Yes, it's safe. For now.

He gestures to his ear in return. I can hear. He'll explain it later.

They creep closer, about five steps forward, and now the Huntress is folding pieces of her heart in parchment paper.

Don't make a joke, don't make a joke.

His eyes close, as though he's physically pained by this. Realizing a few seconds later that Clara might mistake his expression for something more alarming, he's quick to make another series of hand gestures, pointing first to his eyes, then laying his hand flat to his chest, and then spelling out OK with his fingers.

I Am OK. ]

[ His gesticulating is only coming in understandable about half the time, but it's fine, he has to get his energy out somehow. She can hear slight murmurings now that they're a little closer, something about burying the pieces. Forehead creasing, she catches something else regarding eternal beauty. None of the pieces are fitting together yet, so she's about to check if they can get a tiny bit closer when she looks up.

Her heart plunges to her stomach at the sight of The Doctor clearly trying to fight off something in his mind. Just as she's reaching out to drag him away by the bowtie if she has to he opens his eyes and flashes his okay.

Gaping at him, Clara punches him in the arm, because this is serious and she thought a crazy lady with a hole in her chest might be inside his head. Holding out both palms, her question is clear once she's let go of the tension he momentarily caused.

Now what? She looks out at the dead, then at the Huntress, and once more to the Doctor. ]

[ An offended, silent ow expression crosses his face for a moment, but — fine, fine — he supposes he deserved that. But then he reaches for Clara's hand again, lacing their fingers together to lead her closer. He stops and catches sight of Miang-Si, watches as the Huntress hands over the wrapped pouches of her mutilated heart and instructs Miang-Si to bury them specifically to hold her power close. Ah, and there it is then. The dead that keep rising, the reason they loop in time. The Huntress has methodically buried pieces of herself near the village to keep tendrils of her power anchored here.

Nice try.

Miang-Si takes the pouches and seems about to bury them so the Doctor begins to lead Clara closer, in order to see exactly where they're being buried.

But it's here, now, as he inches much, much closer to the Huntress, that he can feel her presence like a dreadful tingle at the back of his mind. He freezes quickly, squeezing Clara's hand and suddenly leading her back a few steps. He's serious this time, worried and not wanting to risk a battle for control of his mind. He can only hope that putting distance away from her will help, otherwise he'll be telling Clara to run. ]

[ The difference is night and day, and now she just feels silly for thinking he was in distress before. The grip on her hand is alarmingly tighter, and she begins to back up with him, heart slamming in her chest.

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees the Huntress's head snap toward them and Clara freezes in fear once they've stepped back a few paces, not because she isn't willing to go with the Doctor, but because the staring is so intense that she's sure they ran out of time, that they're already visible, and it makes her feel rooted to the spot. The gaping wound is visible with more clarity now; clearly no precision was used as the flesh hangs in jagged ribbons and drips blood onto the ground. Bracing herself for the inevitable, the Huntress finally looks away, and Clara stumbles back even more.

She risks whispering to the Doctor, once it seems like they're back to nearly where they were when he seemed to be okay. ]

Anyone else in there?

[ Her eyes are laced with worry, feeling more anxious now than she did just a minute ago. ]

[ Like a knot that's just released, the Doctor can feel the Huntress let go when he's far enough back. Noteworthy, of course, that proximity affects her control, at least for him.

When Clara speaks, the Doctor shakes his head, squeezing her hand again, but less urgently this time. Then he taps his head, smiling softly in reassurance. ]

Just me. And me. And the other me. And that other one, too, with the terrible sweater vest.

[ An attempt to joke, to put her more at ease. ]

They're leaving, it looks like. We'll give them a moment and go back, see what we can dig up. Can't have her leaving the source of her power here in the ground.

[ It's a joke that means something to her; she's been with him when something else was in his head, and she didn't like it. Although it was the only time 'he' said words that gave her a lot of material for reflection later. Trips to the moon are never dull with the Doctor. ]

The one with the sand shoes too?

[ Her eyebrows raise, but there's the ease of a smile on her lips. ]

So, theoretically, if we dig up the most disgusting thing ever to be buried then we should...we should stop moving in time, right?

[ Time Lord, help her. She couldn't hear everything, either, so she's putting pieces together. ]

This whole place operates like everything is expendable. Even essential body parts.

Oh, forget him, not that one.

[ The Doctor scrunches up his face, as if offended at the mention. Still joking, of course. ]

And yes, precisely. Her heart is the source of her power and she's divided it up to tether herself to this place. Digging up whatever we can find should disrupt the link, like blocking off a pipe. Now — quiet for a moment, just need to be sure.

[ He holds Clara's hand still; in the dark, in this place with awful creatures all around, he can't be too careful, needing her close. He doesn't hear anyone nearby at least, they've all gone. ]

Okay! It's only us. Now to find one of those pouches. I saw them close to that tree, digging around. The closer we get, I might be able to feel something, sense something.

[ Clara doesn't mind being a little closer either, shivering at the memory of seeing someone's insides. It's all nightmare fuel for later, but for now, there's business to attend to. Once he's confirmed it's just them, Clara looks up at him excitedly. ]

Oh! Wait! I have something for this.

[ Reaching into her back pocket, she produces the spoon he gave her back in Serthica, proudly. He told her to keep it, and it's become something like a ritual to make sure she has it every time she's going out. Never know when it might be useful. ]

I know I won't be digging bucketloads at a time, but manicures aren't exactly easy to come by, and mine is holding up incredibly well.

[ 'Holding up' is all about perspective; her last one is from the train, which means her nails have grown out by now, and a lot of the paint has chipped away. But she'll be damned if she breaks a nail now. ]

Besides, nothing could be buried that deep that fast, I hope. She didn't say to dig a hole any particular deepness, did she?

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject