the channeling

[groundrules]

THE CHANNELING

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WEALTH WHISPERS

Assignment: the Merchant fears that Matthias, alleged father of the undead Brotherhood, might be the ‘merchant’ who was due to receive dark water-infused grains by sea from the Hand. Chasing information, the Merchant routes party members towards the docks-side underworld district of Tibras, in the outskirts of Ephes. The Hand keeps grain warehouses nearby.

In Tibras, short and decayed houses are like parasitic growths toppling each other, plaster peels falling into rivulets of bloodshed. Tension thrives. Petrified, natives overwhelmingly number beggars, pleasure workers, crude bounty hunters and thieves, who look to cut throats or purse strings. Occasional bodies drift by the docks.

■ Just outside of Tibras is the abode of the merchants’ syndicate — a ring of warehouses, private clubs and houses of currency. Merchants here are protected via steep fees and travel freely. Inside the syndicate house, doorways are barred by inextinguishable living fire — which you can cross unharmed, if you rearrange the runes marked N, W, S, E on a nearby wall in a cardinal-point formation. You can also pretend to be a servant, a merchant or quality inspector to get to the Hand warehouses. Ask a clue.

Alternatively, the Merchant forewarns that a notable guest will join the syndicate for three nights: Captain Maximilian Hawk of the Dawn’s Reach Trade Company, which deals in magical artefacts. Hold him at knifepoint, seduce him, do your worst for knowledge!

■ By the entrance to Tibras is the shop of Apollonius, noted collector of supernatural artefacts and information broker. Crafty and sly, he will cooperate, in exchange for a pair of ‘eyes’ from the ghost Tykhe, who haunts the nearby anonymous burial grounds. Come midnight, Tykhe’s spirit — whose sight was gouged — appears and picks out and bewitches a pair of marbles, buttons or stones to act as her ‘eyes.’ With them in hand, she searches the graveyard for her dead sister, Cassandra. You can steal the orbs, or she’ll give them freely, if you escort her from tomb to tomb to reunite with the mute ghost of Cassandra. Return to Apollonius.

■ Deeper within Tibras is a gambling nest of sailors who were cursed by a scorned sea witch to assume the appearance of sea creatures. Led by the giant octopus Crassus, they charge protection fees from commercial merchant ships and even intimidate pirates, gleaning information from sailors and recovering drowned bodies. This illustrious group adores games of chance — as long as you can cover your losses.

You can decide or RNG how many tries it takes for your character to win — submit a finished thread to get a question! The higher the stakes, the better the information.

— a scantly informed junior goldfish throws dice. Lose, and you must share a highly embarrassing secret.

— a moderately informed catfish, offering Baccarat. Lose, and he steals your good luck for 24 hours.

— a composed, well-informed whale plays roulette. Lose, and you must share one of your most precious memories.

— a highly-knowledgeable shark, Aurelius Longus, plays a mean hand of poker. Lose, and he asks blood or a pledge to save his life one day.

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THE FLOORS

Senate leader Caius Justus exits his seclusion, ending weeks of prayer to convey the message of Ephes’ divine patron, the Chained God of chaos. And he says in a public speech:

Friends, Ephesians, countrymen…

”Friends, Ephesians, countrymen, lend me your ears. I come to speak for the Chained Father, not to praise him. The victory men reap lives after them; but cowardice is often buried with their bones. So let it be with Ephes. The noble Senate tells you, the Chained Father wishes only Ephes’ destruction. If it were so, it is a grievous fault, and grievously has the Father answered for it. Here, under leave of Messalina and the Senate – for Messalina is an honourable speaker; so they are all, all honourable speakers – come I to speak of the Chained Father’s wishes. He was my maker, faithful and just to us: but Messalina says, turn away from him. And Messalina is an honourable speaker. He has brought many territories under the heel of Ephes. In his name did the Hand rise: did this in the Chained Father seem unworthy? When now you weep asking empire, the Chained Father answers: tells you to be made of sterner stuff. Yet Messalina says the Father is unworthy. And Messalina is an honourable speaker. You all did see that I withdrew to his temple, where he spoke to me: Ephes, seize your path alone — was that unworthy? Yet Messalina says to turn away from him. And sure, Messalina is an honourable speak. I speak not to disprove what Messalina spoke, but here I am to speak what I do know: you are all children of Chaos, not without cause. What cause withholds you, then, to use the Hand yourselves? O, ambition! You have fled to brutish citadels. And men have lost their courage. Bear with me: my heart is in the temple, there with the Chained God, and I must pause and beg the Senate to vote against Messalina, til it comes back to me. ”

Returning to public life, Caius Justus advises the Senate to refuse Messalina’s proposal, but defers to a vote. Citing recent civil unrest, he imposes citadel-wide 10 p.m. curfews, bans congregations of more than eight people in the streets and sends the Hand to confiscate any visible weapons and to quiet or pre-empt unrest. Hand members — forced to present in large numbers — appear erratic, prone to violent outbursts and to taking out their anger on civilians. Hand leader Narula is excessively smug.

Newscasters are careful with their words, speeches decrying Messalina abound, and senators are‘escorted’ by Hand delegations, also for their protection. Caius Justus announces he will run again for Senate leadership — to begrudged murmurs among Senators, given his previous pledge to retire.

Assignment: lure Senators toward the position that the party supports. After Caius Justus’ return:

■ 51 Senators back Caius Justus to refuse Messalina’s proposal.

■ Maximus Faustus convinces 53 Senators to accept Messalina’s proposal

■ Caelius Silvanus persuades 47 Senators to vote to postpone a decision on Messalina’s proposal for another season.

Following the party’s previous interventions, Senators are open to considering Messalina’s cause. Many are skittish, fearing their careers or lives will end with disobeying Caius Justus. Optionally, party members previously assigned a political role might receive threats from Caius Justus’ supporters.

■ Persuade, bribe, threaten or blackmail a minor Senator to switch votes. Perhaps you can offer coin or rally supporters in the marketplace for their next election, or heal their donkey or get rid of that pesky boy mooning after their daughter. Or maybe prove their corruption streak, or place a polite knife at their throats. Hold the whole Senate floor hostage, if you want, of blockade Senators from entering the Senate on voting day!

■ Ask for a RNGed Senator if you want or submit threads of swaying votes. A final tally will be taken on 19 November

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INCENSE

Priests of the Chained God whisper that the god shows signs of awakening to trigger an apocalypse. Chained and warded twelve times to prevent the end of the world, the Chained God allegedly rests in the Halls of the Sleeper, in the underground belly of his main temple in Ephes. Above ground, the temple is silent, rife with milling priests, hummed prayers and cloying hallucinogenic incense that encourages lethargy. Access is unrestricted, but monitored.

To progress downstairs, you may need to convince guards that you are one of the groups of ferociously devout pilgrim worshippers, or a priest. Below, you feel overcome by creeping, paralysing dread.

■ You are haunted by sinister, saccharine voices murmuring intrusive thoughts only you hear, diminishing your worth and paranoically asking if your companion means you harm. You are more irritable and prone to violence.

■ The halls increasingly resemble narrow subterranean corridors with limited and overheated air reserves. You reach locked stone gates, covered in loose chains and crudely carved with the inscription, the Sleeper awakes. Instructions state the Chained God demands sacrifice and proof of chaos.

■ To enter the Sleeper’s Hall, instructions say, you must commit an act of betrayal, by: drawing your companion’s blood and smearing it over the inscription (lean into the corruption!), which prevents them from entering the halls with you; or chaining them to the door with the gate shackles, condemning them to watch as you enter; or pushing your companion away, verbally eviscerating or attacking them until they flee. With player approval, your character could get a sense of what theirs is emotionally or physically vulnerable to, then exploit it. Acts of betrayal cannot be faked.

■ The Sleeper’s Hall is narrow, nearly spherical and lit by thin rivers of flowing magma that cross cracked floors. Amid swelter, you hear the periodic gulps and quakes of stone trembling around you. The supernaturally sensitive feel the presence of great, if constrained power.

■ The black water previously associated with the undead also gushes from rifts in the ground. It has a cold, sinister aura.

■ Search the room for clues — and leave urgently, before corruption consumes you.

■ Towards the middle of the room is a large, nebulously shaped creature, fully fettered and covered in magical wards, chains and blood-painted runes. Anyone in the Chained God’s presence may feel overcome by emotional or physical agony, claustrophobia and bloodlust — but the divinity only speaks with the RNG winner.

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NOTES:

■ Some players have asked about potentially stabbing ousting Caius Justus and Narula in a coup — everyone can plot and participate in that, and a plotting post will go up on 16 November.

■ NPC inbox, if you need anyone!

■ QUESTIONS

Comments

the floors → the great senator delay project, at a banquet near you

[downswing]

( How to train your senators into helpfully abstaining from voting against your cause: rally them in a banquet hall under false (?) pretenses of dining (Sanji), opiates (Wen Qing), wine and... entertainment, inject a spirited speech (Luffy) while the doors close, Stephen Strange's magicians helpfully corner the buildings, and Five and Lan Wangji dash from door to door, discouraging violent outbursts.

Possibly while staring intoxicated, but righteously indignated senators into submission. It turns out electoral abduction is not a local habit. Who might have known?

Throughout the proceedings, he enters the banquet halls only fleetingly to ensure all windows are barred, prior to the locking in. Then, to whoever of his companions who are staying inside: )

You are certain of your safety?

( Later, as the doors lock and he darts between doors to show a sliver of his sword to whichever senator tries to peer out, only to meet him and the magician crowd — he whispers to the nearest person: )

They are... more dutiful than expected. ( Trying rather desperately to join the vote, in fact. )

[somebadnews]

[ Five agrees with a sigh and a pointed look at the magicians crowding the outside of the banquet hall. They really could have chosen a venue with fewer exit points that relies on less coordination. Surprisingly, they've managed to successfully trap them as the vote nears, but the day isn't over.

It's a desperate move, but they've long run out of better options. His hellhound isn't far behind him, effectively circling in the opposite direction whenever he needs some added intimidation. ]

We could always knock them out and leave them in the cellar. [ Keeping them away indefinitely may be the best call. Otherwise they'll hold another vote and remember who kept them here. ] If they don't suspect something by now, we'll have to come up with something.

[downswing]

Luffy was intended as...

( ...but even he cannot finish that sentence, not in the spirit of the young man's... vivacious... presentation of his rhetoric and... ah. Truly. He'll do as a plague, a distraction or a destroyer of the senses. Any one will do.

Just as he mentally places all of his bets in the Luffy basket, another senator — squealing worse than a pig readying for the butcher's cut — dashes, head forward, toward the gates, screaming his patriotism for Ephes and love for the people's cause to a sea of applause that dissolves in withered, awkward coughs and side glances when he collides with gates, unyielding. Lan Wangji squints, tipping his head towards Five as if to ask, Did he not see the doors, barred?

But then, it would be far too crass to question a man's suffering. He glances away, tempted but not yet succumbing to the dangers of a shrug. )

They may knock themselves out, given time. ( ...just look at this, Five. )

[somebadnews]

[ Five raises an eyebrow at him when he doesn't finish his thought. If he's implying that there was a fully thought out plan to their distraction, he's either impressed or disappointed. As far as he can tell, people he's never met saw what was going on and decided to improvise.

He winces when a senator rams into the gate with little prompting from any of them. Do they not realize they've been locked in? That might actually help their cause, but it's just occurring to him that they may be doing more than give impassioned speeches. ]

Then again, if they were going to drug them, we may have put in too much effort guarding the exits. [ Speaking of drugs: ] Who's Luffy?

[downswing]

Mmmmm. ( A petty flinch, when the door nearly dents at the next strike from within, before a chorus of objections signals the senators themselves refuse violence in the confines. Ah, doing Five and Wangji's job themselves, then. ) They have found sharp objects.

( Candle holders, perhaps. Vases. The rare but critical decoration. Truly, a desperate man will ever make do, compensating a lack of ability with an excess of imagination. Lan Wangji would celebrate them, were they not keeping him at attention outside, with dimming light. )

Luffy. ( Yes, Lan Wangji, that was the question. ) Heir apparent, 'king of pirates.' ( Excuse his... incredulity. ) The young man, vivacious.

( Not entirely unreasonable, as distractions go. )

[somebadnews]

[ Jesus. They're really desperate to vote. If the select few Five cared to watch over were inside, he may be blinking in to check on them with how rowdy they're getting. As it is, he makes eye contact with the hound and gestures for him to do around round while he's getting an update. Not that he doesn't have faith in 'magicians' but there's few who listen to him as well. ]

King of the pirates, and he goes by 'Luffy'? [ Not that he believes everything he hears. ] Who are the others? Messalina supporters or did they just jump in to have a good time?

[ Wen Qing he knows, but Lan Wangji seems to have been doing the better job socializing while Five was busy doing the actual work. ]

[downswing]

( Don't let Lan Wangji's own ongoing awe stutter Five's private deliberations over the quality and likelihood of Luffy's prospects. It is not that he distrusts, precisely: a boy of fifteen stands to inherit the mountain of corruption that sleeps beneath Jinlintai. But it is a... tenuous proposition, sabotaged at every step by Luffy's own... vocal charisma. )

A cook. ( That he has seen, though not yet known intimately. ) Stephen Strange. His... retinue. ( Of magicians. ) Wen Kexing's — ...entertainment. ( Also known as the ladies of pleasure fleetingly glimpsed, now and then, by the windows, waving down between winks. ) A man with a red nose.

( ...despite, dare Lan Wangji note, rather balmy weather. )

[somebadnews]

[ Of those he names, he's only personally familiar with Strange (and finds him welcomely pragmatic), and he's adjacently aware of Wen Kexing. He doesn't remember seeing any of them in the villas, so it's possible that some of them came to the conclusion that Messalina is their best option here. It doesn't matter if they all agree as long as they manage to get the votes.

Assuming the votes will mean something. He doesn't love his backup plan. ]

Well, we've got enough witnesses around to discredit them. Just say they were partying all night with a clown. [ He edges near the door, trying to get a better look inside. ] ...We've got a lot riding on this. What do you think the odds are that the Hand accepts the results?

[downswing]

They are soldiers. ( He need not say, as Lan Wangji too was: tools, instructed. Weapons with the conceit of a conscience, pointed and steadied. Theirs is not the claim to autonomy. This Hand, in particular, appears... prone to lethargy and the minding of instructions. )

If their commander accepts, they accept. ( And should the man Caius Justus decline — theirs is war, after. It is no question, then, of violence. A man proud enough to pursue a mandate he had surrendered will not care for the safety of his own people. )

It may turn as with Taravast. A citadel's warfare. ( Ugly work. )

[somebadnews]

[ Soldiers that are currently being completely manipulated by dark water. But he has a point, if they fail the vote, they can still take out Caius, then coerce Narula to aligning with Messalina... it's a long shot, but it's still a chance. ]

That would be a disappointment. I haven't put this much effort in for a while now. [ In fairness to him, he was cursed until recently. Now he's able to scheme at a higher level.

The door rattles and he can hear shouts inside. ]

You seem to know them better than I do. How confident are you that they can handle it in there?

[downswing]

( ...effort. He intends to correct Five, to point out they have both done little more than to divert themselves with the ongoing — there number three blows, head first — efforts of their captives to release themselves. That, truly, this degree of faint subterfuge hardly qualifies as strain.

But then, Alir. The earthquakes. The constant vigilance to remain alive and well and study, Wei Ying and Emilia's exposure. No, there is more that they have achieves here than Lan Wangji gives them full merit. )

I know little of them. Only hold faith. ( A foolish tendency, recently discovered optimism. The better part of Wei Ying's influence. ) I must trust or must despair.

( And he has tired of grief, of doubt. )

You question them?

[bigsmile]

I'm certain. I don't think these guys have anything that can hurt me.

( Luffy sounds so sure of himself, so positively convinced that nothing amongst the senators will be a problem. If only he could be so sure in what it is exactly that's going on; he understands the senators are due to vote on something that would result in Something Bad™ and that the job would be to keep them in this one place to stop them from voting. It's just the specifics on the votes and how they're voting that slip past Luffy, he's still trying to find his own way around in this world let alone figure out the politics. Regardless, Luffy has a good idea of what speech to distract the senators with as the doors finally lock and by the end of it hopefully a couple of them will be questioning their morals, if not their sanity.

The place is full of Sanji's food which is always a bonus and he uses his gum gum abilities to reach a hand over over to the other side of the room to snag a snack, pulling it back to himself without much thought as to how it would look to the uninitiated. )

How long are we keeping them here for again?

[downswing]

( Ah, the long-assailing, unyielding arrogance of youth. Would that Lan Wangji did not so intimately recall it. He sees it now, writ large in clean brush strokes on Luffy's guileless face, the earnest enthusiasm of his gestures.

Barely arrived, yet uncontainable. Living fire. He would laugh, if the gaggle of senators they pass by were not so impossibly, blatantly excused of their senses, chasing each way pastries and wine and Wen Kexing's finest girls. At least their vices benefit their purpose, on this occasion. May the Heavens watch over Ephes, should this be their political echelon.

He walks on, taking Luffy beside him for a few steps, careful not skid over slips of wine and glistened, pale powers. )

A shi. ( No. The different metric, one of the many verbal compromises of negotiating meaning with his peers in the party. ) Two hours.

( And why such conviction that all will be well, then? ) Wen Qing's opiates should take hold, by that time.

( A nicely sedated flock will cooperate better with captivity. )

[bigsmile]

(It's the kind of youthful arrogance that will one day get Luffy into all the trouble, something that will undoubtedly blindside him and have the captain reeling. For now though things have gone well and he eyes the senators around them as they walk, slowly chewing on the food he's managed to snag.

Talk to them for two hours until they all fall asleep, or whatever it is an opiate does. It should be easy; Luffy isn't sure on how the voting should go or the politics, but then he understands that talking such topics with this lot would only have him beaten with experience. No, it would need something better that would get them all involved.

Morality.)

Two hours is more than enough time and we're doing the right thing. I think? I'm not gonna ask them about politics, but even they should know right from wrong.

[downswing]

( ...they should know right from wrong, says Luffy, of trained, educated and veteran politicians. Ah, but his face is too fresh, too plagued by candour. He need not sip the poison of Lan Wangji's bitter-most truths.

And so, soft-nodded, daring — a lie by any other name, an omission — he concedes: ) Righteousness may prove their friend.

( A distant one, of minimal and new acquaintance. A passing, barely tolerated and brokered relationship. Perhaps if truth walked one math and a senator another, they would not spit upon each other's faces at a crossing. Yes. That is so. )

Five requires me in the gardens shortly. ( To walk the perimeters and see what blood wants letting, done. ) I beg a boon of you. If I may.

( As if anyone might stop him. )

[legsbenedict]

[ There are a great many things that Sanji can do well, but he thinks he excels at distracting people with food. If it smells good and looks pretty, chances are that's enough to make them stick around to see what comes next.

He can't be blamed if they have no taste. That's where the liquor comes in to help pave the way. More than once, he's found himself saying 'no, you don't eat that, it's a garnish' or 'if I cook this anymore, it's an insult to the meat'. Sanji is burdened with having to deal with culinary nonsense his entire life, it seems. At least he has a captain and crew who will eat almost anything.

It's in the midst of a service lul when he's approached by Lan Wangji and Sanji can't help but grin at the question, tossing the man a wink. ]

For mine, yes. For theirs? That is entirely up for debate.

[downswing]

( ...ah. He has seen the horrors visited upon both the cook — bake these oysters — and his people — there are limits to how close service knives may come to the vision line of attendees.

He sides, on principle, with his own people, for all Sanji errs on the side of obscene excess for the Lan palate with his application of spices — which is to say, he peppers any at all. But they are men bound to an honest cause (subterfuge) of virtue (electoral fraud) and they must not lose faith in one another (having barely met and therefore a lifetime of disappointments to gift one another, ahead.)

As a token of his respect, Lan Wangji tempts fate and his own health by fishing out skewered, molten aubergine drenched in a thickly sauce and tickles the very edges with his teeth, grazing. )

It is. ( Waaaaaaaaaait for it. ) Unprecedented fare. ( Exactly one freckle of spice reached his tongue, he's already on course to reddening and combustion. )

[legsbenedict]

[ While he likes to use his wealth of spices and make his food flavorful, he's also no stranger to those with a more reserved palate. People like what they like so if someone is hungry, he'll feed them what they want.

He doesn't watch in nervous anticipation exactly, but he does want to know what the guy thinks. Well. ]

I appreciate it! Since you're here, if there's something else you'd like, just say so, yeah? I like to make sure everyone's got something to eat.

[ With as much of his bitched mutterings as Wangji has probably heard, his words are earnest. Sanji knows they have a job to do and their meal of deceit is more for the politicians than their little group, but the sentiment is the same. ]

[downswing]

Perhaps, plain rice.

( On an audacious day, beside clear broth and pickles. But no, this is no time for games or taking advantage of Sanji's considerable, readily exercised skills. A feast spreads long and distinguished before them, the slew of appreciative Senators speaking plainer of its success than mere words might.

Few things endear Lan Wangji more than a true master, set to illustrate his craft. And so, behold an icicle bravely thawing enough to initiate conversation. )

Beware: you serve royalty on this night. ( The sliver, long and lean, of a smile batters his lips. ) King Luffy.

( All hail, all bow. )

[legsbenedict]

Plain rice is something I can work with. Do you like rice balls, or are you just a man with simple tastes?

[ At least it will give him an idea of what's too much. Sanji takes a moment to survey the spread, making mental notes of what needs replenishing and what remains untouched. The idea that he's serving royalty and had no idea startles him until King Luffy and he barks out a laugh. ]

Luffy's no king. At least not yet, anyway. Our crew will help him get there.

[downswing]

Kings win crowns through birth or conquest.

( And, by all accounts, the young man was not born to the blood — nor does his behaviour indicate the sort of finesse of breeding that betrays rank. No, he is... if not a peasant, then of the people, entirely unmannered, powered by fortune beneath the Heavens and enthusiasm alone.

Then, the alternative: ) Bloodshed suits you?

( Cooking, after all, is an entirely domestic, home-making activity, bereft of wrath and bloodlust. All the same, a middling correction: )

Rice balls suit travel, sooner than dining. ( Only children and men dedicated to the road would prefer them to an honest bowl. )

[legsbenedict]

[ Kings hold little interest to him. It's not why he agreed to go with Luffy. Whether he becomes King of the Pirates or not, it's the fact that both their dreams hold a certain insanity, yet they're both determined to seek it. The future King of the Pirates needs the best chef in the East Blue.

Sanji frowns, tilting his head in consideration as he watches a platter of herb scones disappear. ]

I don't go looking for it, but if we have to knock down some deadbeat pirates along the way, they have it coming.

[ There are always bigger, meaner fish in the sea and Luffy is a magnet for trouble, so it will happen sooner rather than later.

His attention flicks back to the man, a smile sliding back onto his face. ]

You could say the same with a pastry or a kebob- they may be suited for travel, but it's all about presentation. Before you even take your first bite, you're eating with your eyes.

[downswing]

( Eating with his... eyes. Yes, form. Presentation. In Cloud Recesses, where sustenance and moderation are key, a humble aspect is best. But he has seen the gilded kitchens of Jinlintai and master cooks at their work. There is an element of showmanship to the culinary arts that the man Sanji appears willing to embody.

Certainly, the repeat visitors of his tables agree with the practice. And is this delicate, dainty approach compatible with life at sea? With... piracy? )

Your... ( Leader? King without a throne? ) — companion appears to misunderstand the nature of pirates. He thinks them — ethical. Brave.

( In truth, no better or worse than the average sailor, yet still burdened semantically by the legacy of theft and bloodshed that piracy entwines. Perhaps the tables are truly turned Luffy's world offers pirates as a moral proposition.

...much likelier, the boy is misled, wholly and unmistakably. )

[legsbenedict]

Our Captain [ he offers politely ] has a different definition of what a pirate is meant to be. It happens to suit us just fine.

[ The most ridiculous and endearing thing about Luffy is his misguided definition of piracy. At Baratie, it didn't matter whether someone was a pirate, a Marine, or just a seafarer- everyone ate and no one fought. Sanji thought he knew well enough what a pirate was meant to be like until Luffy and the rest of the crew walked in and subverted all his previous expectations.

At the heart of it all, they're just five people out to try and reach for their dream. While they're all driven by something personal, Luffy is their captain and they'll get involved in whatever he decides is a worthy cause. ]

Perhaps that's what a pirate should be. To Luffy, it's about freedom and adventure.

[downswing]

Is that not mere... sailing?

( Words, sir, carry meaning, purposes. They're the edge of a blade, claiming intent. He does not accuse, only withholds himself, back straight and a hand strapped behind, and eyes bright, lit with amusement. Perhaps Luffy is not the only one inspired to mischief, from time to time.

But then, questioning the existential purpose of a group that's effectively stumbled into chaos seems at best ambitious, and at worst apolitical, unkind. ) Apologies. Your matters, your own.

( ...presumably. Whilst led by a scant improvement on a mutinous child. No, no. He will not pass judgement. ) It is devotion.