War on The Skies

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_Firefly_

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"If I let you in, please don't break anything."

In the far reaches of the icy North, a bloody war between the ancient forces and the world as we know it is on the horizon.

For three long, cold years, Jack August Everhart (Or just Frost, as he is more commonly known) has worked on the greatest ship ever to grace the lilac skies. Despite his status as a powerful demon lord, he holds little interest in the iron crown he bears - to the point where one could even say the devil has gone rogue.

Now, he's searching for a crew: a band of motley players to join him on his quest to conquer the sky, capture new territory and perhaps even spy on the worlds below.

Info:
Greetings, Mortals. Okay, maybe I should just stick to saying "hi"... like a normal human being. In other words, this is hopefully going to be one hell of a crazy fantasy, steampunk (maybe?), action adventure. On your journey, your characters will visit various places aboard an airship comandeered by the man who is technically, supposed to be your king. You'll get captured by pirates, or pirate other ships, fight alongside each other... and maybe even get thrown overboard from time to time.

Most of the RP will take place on board "The Swallow," Jack's steampunk-inspired airship. Magic, neo-victorian weaponry (flintlocks, muskets, etc.) and pretty much all character archetypes are allowed.
This roleplay is mostly freeform, so I'll be setting some events, but I'm open to any suggestions.

Rules:
1.
Nobody is invincible, don't make your character too powerful.
2. Romance is okay, but keep any steaminess to a minimum.
3. Be kind.
4. Character death is possible, but don't try to kill someone's character just because you don't like them/have something against them personally.

5. I'm fairly lenient when it comes to grammar and spelling, but please try your best to write clearly and coherently.
6. No hugely long or ridiculously short blocks of text.
7. Original characters only.
8. Include everyone.
9. Avoid writing typical Mary-Sue type characters.
10. Enjoy!

Character Sheet:
Name/s:
Picture (Optional):
Age:
Gender:
Appearance:
Personality:
Backstory:
Abilities/Skills:
Preferred Ship Position: (E.g. engineer, gunner, etc.)
Weaknesses/Drawbacks:
Other:
 
Sonterro Augustus
The Dashing Rogue
Age: 30
Gender: Male
Appearance: A mustachioed man with carefully combed long hazel-brown hair, Sonterro has a fairly thin yet muscly body, and stands relatively tall at 6"1. His face is square and considered handsome by most; careful work has been put in to remove all spots or other acne, and his teeth are spotless and white. His eyes are a deep and true shade of brown, accompanied by long eyelashes. He's commonly wearing fancy and flashy clothes, usually with a cape, and with his trusty rapier 'Maria' at his side.

On his shoulder is his pet of unknown origin that he apparently obtained from his old mentor, named 'Parry'. Parry has the appearance of a short, golden dragon-like creature, with slippery skin and a long snout. He/she appears to posses a large amount of intelligence, as well as a smile as smug as Sonterro's, but doesn't seem to be combat capable like a full-sized dragon.

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Personality: Sonterro is a cheerful, optimistic, and perhaps somewhat strange man with an ever-burning ego around him. Whilst his happy attitude mixed with his Italian attitude can bring smiles to some's faces, Sonterro takes extremely high pride in his skills and his 'dashing' looks, often posing and showing off wherever possible. He's extremely flirtatious - probably way too much for his own good - and often recites poems to women's beauty, much to their annoyance. Unsurprisingly, he's still single. Despite his annoying features, he's still quite a nice man (for a 'pirate', at least) with an ever-burning sense of honour about him. If he ever gets in combat, he ensures to make all fights as fair as possible, before helping himself to much-desired loot.

Backstory: Sonterro is a man of the Augustus bloodline, a family who live in a rich forestal estate, making a living from selling rich products (such as fine wood, tree resin, etc.) Whilst he lived a life of luxury at a young age, Sonterro was a creative and outgoing boy at heart, and always seemed to be breaking the rules for a 'posh' boy to be following. Because he didn't live up to his mother and father's expectations and shown not much interest in the business as a child, he was mostly neglected, with his brother, Sanviento, attracting most of the attention of his parents instead.

Because of the dislike of his parents and the whole lifestyle he'd been put in, it was inevitable that Sonterro fled from home at fourteen, taking but a few possessions with him. However, without proper survival skills, Sonterro found it very difficult to live without the commodities of his home. He was found starving in the wilderness by an old man by the name of Kristos, who took in Sonterro and nurtured him back to health.

Kristos was a lone old man who was once a respected duelist, but had resided to a cabin in the wilderness instead for peace. As it turned out, he was quite lonely, so when Sonterro thanked him for saving his life, Kristos offered Sonterro to stay. After accepting the offer, the two shared a great bond, and Kristos mentored Sonterro in the ways of dueling as he grew up. A lot of time passed, a lot of fun was had, until sadly, his mentor Kristos passed away of old age one night.

With the passing of his mentor, Sonterro wandered on to find a place to put his skill to good use and bring honour to Kristos. When the opportunity arisen for him to be a crew member of one of the world's finest ships, he found it the perfect place for him to be, where he could take to the skies and be as free as a bird.
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Abilities/Skills
  • Extremely Agile - Sonterro can spring, jump, flip, and run at an olympic standard. He uses these skills to board enemy ships whenever possible, and to be a tough opponent to hit, chase, or outrun.
  • The Sword Arm - If there's one thing Sonterro can do right, it's dueling with the use of his rapier. He knows the ways and special tricks and nifty moves of the sword like the back of his hand. And whilst he can still get blown up by a cannon like anybody else, he's one to be feared when against in close-combat.
  • Basic Caster - Whilst he doesn't have what it takes to be a master magician, Sonterro's bloodline gives him access to simple magic: a short teleport, minor telekinesis,
  • Basic Gun Knowledge - He's no master when it comes to manning the guns of the ship, but he's still competent. If he's unable to plunder other ships on foot, Sonterro is able to man the guns and occasionally hit targets.
  • Competent Writer - Whilst it's not a life-saving skill, Sonterro is skilled at writing songs, poetry, short tales, etc. His handwriting is excellent, and even if his poems to women won't woo them at all, they certainly can't deny that they're well written.

Weaknesses/Drawbacks
  • Fragile - Sonterro lacks the ability to take many solid hits. Whilst he can prance around in a fancy manner, if he's caught off guard and punched in the face, he'll go down like a sack of potatoes. He also lacks brute strength, meaning that there really aren't many people on the ship he could beat in an arm wrestle.
  • Questionable Tactics - In short, Sonterro can be very reckless. His love for showing off his skills and doing things for the sake of them looking fabulous can get him in many a sticky situation. His sometimes idiotic decisions can get him in near-death situations, as if being a ship boarder wasn't dangerous enough.
  • Easily Swayed - Sonterro's flirty nature and extreme interest in women can sometimes get him in trouble, and makes him easy to trick. Manipulative women could probably get Sonterro to jump off the ship if they tried hard enough.
  • Code of Honour - Sonterro fights fair, and nothing but fair, unless he's forced into a situation where he has to pull some dirty tricks. His way of taking on enemies one at a time can sometimes be a weakness, however, especially if his enemies are more... dishonourable types.
Preferred Ship Position: Boarder/Saboteour, Reserve Gunner.
Other: He likes tomato soup xddddd

[I'll probably make some more side characters to go along with Sonterro; I just wanted to make my main character that I'll be playing first.]
 
Name/s: Jack Frost, Shots, Auguste Everhart
Age: N/A - looks about thirty-five
Gender: Male
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Appearance: Standing at about 6'3", Jack is an imposing figure, built like a warrior but lean and powerful in other aspects of his character rather than physique. He has sandy blonde, tousled hair, almost ginger in the right light, and he often wears a blue bandana to keep it off his face. His eyes were once green, but since an incident involving a lot of ice and a megalomaniac in Austria, he has been heterochromic. His pale blue left eye now remains fixed, giving him a somewhat unnerving stare. Being a demon, Jack is naturally attractive, and is often described as "ageless," considering he looks about thirty five despite the likelihood that he is actually much older. With his sharp features and almost granite-like expression, he could have been carved by Michealangelo, as immovable as stone.


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Personality: Jack doesn't smile often, and his sense of humour is dry to say the least. He is often blunt and gets exasperated when others take too long to explain things. Jack is also incredibly stubborn, and cares deeply about those who are close to him. He has little interest in riches, perhaps because he knows he could have anything he wanted if he asked for it. He is quietly intelligent and thoughtful - sometimes brooding, but he prefers to keep his thoughts to himself. When particularly irked by someone or something, Jack likes to imagine the most violently ridiculous means of killing said irritant, and will calmly explain every detail. Alternatively, he will simply call you a twat and walk out. Much of Jack's behaviour depends on his mood, so his personality and actions are often questionable or unpredictable.

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Backstory: During his early years, Jack worked under the command of an underground organisation as a sort of hired assassin. It was among these people that he met his lover, Rosalie, and later they had a daughter together. By the law, it was condemned to even have such a relationship with anyone - let alone have a child or a family - because this was considered a weakness, it put the whole organisation at risk.
Jack and Rosalie intentionally kept their little girl out of this dirty business, but soon people found out, and an accident was staged in which Rosalie was killed by her partner's own hand. Soon after Rosalie's death, Jack was captured and imprisoned for ten years of his life. He forced himself to forget the details of his downfall, and it was during his imprisonment that he discovered his demon, and the raw power that gives him his name. Later, Jack was released and reunited with his daughter - who is now sixteen years old - and he suffers a series of side effects as a result of his captivity. He has diagnosed himself as mentally unstable - or at least a little insane with occasional bouts of schizophrenia.


Having reclaimed his title as King of The North, Jack had become somewhat tired with the confines of a palace. He built "The Swallow" to be the greatest air ship the worlds have ever seen, and he hoped to use it as a kind of escape from the grief that still follows him like a shadow.

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Abilities/Skills:
- Ice manipulation: Jack can literally freeze things from the inside out, shutting down all internal organs and killing the victim. As he has little control over his power, the cold often follows him, and frost will settle on the ground and on his clothes whenever he enters a room.
- Jack's heart is frozen, and yet he is still alive.
- Agility: Like the demon aspect he usually takes, Jack is cat-like and gracefully agile. His reflexes are impossibly - almost unnaturally fast, often giving him the upper hand when it comes to hand-to-hand combat.
- Intelligence: Although his magical ability is strong, Jack prefers to rely on his wit and intelligence rather than an unfamiliar power he has little control over. In this sense, he reads people well, and can often predict anyone's next move.
- Shapeshifting: Jack can not take the form of anything he likes, but he does have a demon aspect. Sometimes he takes the form of a powerful snow-leopard, with the ability to talk still in tact. He is an expert hunter.


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Weaknesses/Drawbacks:
- Side effects: Jack is prone to moments of serious paranoia, and his possible schizophrenia distracts him.
- Loud noises/busy places: Jack suffers in a crowd because his senses are extremely sensitive, and all the sounds and smells overwhelm him. Sudden loud noises also have a negative effect, and often trigger his side effects.
- Claustrophobic: As a result of his captivity, long periods of time in a cramped space can send him mad. Jack never uses locks on his doors, because he hates the idea of being locked in anywhere.
- Jack is incredibly stubborn, and will always stick to his guns. This is not always a good thing.
- Lack of control: Although having so much power is handy in a fight, Jack actually has little control over it. He is still learning.
- Really hot weather.


Preferred Ship Position: Captain.

Other: Jack really likes tinned tuna, he's also an artist. Antiques are cool too.
 
Jack Frost sighed and leant back in his elaborate chair, kicking his feet up on the desk. The Swallow swayed in the cold wind that had blown in from the North overnight, tugging at the ropes that tethered the great airship to the ground. It had been an impossibly dull day. Being a king never seemed to get any more interesting for a man who could have had anything if he asked for it, and even from this quiet retreat they still found it necessary to send him paperwork. To hell with it all, he thought. Soon, he'd take to the skies.

But first, crew. Jack was by no means patient, and as he waited he drummed his fingers on the desk, his many silver rings glistening in the low lamp-light. The sound of the wind buffeting the wooden panels of the ship - a sign of the oncoming storm - was oddly comforting, and he closed his one working eye, the other staring blankly at the ceiling. Surely, nobody was likely to bother him for the next few hours... sleep was so easy. And, despite his unnerving one-eyed stare and the heavy spear that lay precariously on top of a stack of books, the demon king looked quite at peace.

 
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Today was a big day for the self-proclaimed dashing rogue known as Sonterro.

His leather boots tight and high on his feet, and his sword Maria sheathed carefully at his side, the mustachioed man flicked and brushed back his hair whilst carefully looking into a hand mirror.
"Ah, Sonterro... you will kill the show tonight. Look at you. Eyes as luminescent as rhinestones. Swordplay as graceful as a Southern butterfly... ah... yes. This job is yours!" He said to himself excitedly, puffing out his chest.


On his shoulder, the small golden creature known as Parry slumbered indifferently, their golden tail curled gently around Sonterro's neck to keep them from falling off in the man's large, bouncing footsteps. As Sonterro approached the great spectacle known as The Swallow, his eyes lit up like a child's as he observed the impeccable woodwork; the graceful sails like a swan's wings... everything about it was perfect. It was just like he'd been told. And now, there was no more time for wandering. He was going to get a job here, and be known throughout the world. First though, he needed to convince the captain.

Following the directions he'd been given, Sonterro was soon at the door of the captain's office. In honesty, he wasn't actually sure what the captain even looked like. Hopefully it was a crimson-haired, beautiful woman with hips shaped as graceful as Norwegian fjords...

Before he entered, Sonterro rattled his fingers on the captain's door in a long, consecutive knock.
"Coo-ee...! Anybody home?" The man's Italian-accented came muffled from the other side.
 
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"Bloody hell..."

Jack woke up with a start, sending a precarious stack of books tumbling over the side of the desk as he stretched. He waited a moment, running his tongue slowly over his sharp canines. As he walked over to the ornate door, leather boots silent on the smooth oak flooring, Jack let go of his hold on the ancient power settled in his bones and shifted back to his remotely more human looking form. He had to admit it was satisfying to note the wary stares people gave him, but scaring his possible crew before they'd even met was never going to set a good first impression.

With a flick of the wrist and a spark of blue glam, the door swung open by itself. Jack had not actually walked as far as the door, and now he stood facing Sonterro from the centre of the room, his head tilted to one side. His one living eye raked his body, noting every possible detail with critical intensity. "Hullo," he said.

Perhaps Jack was not a stunning fjord woman, but he was still attractive - in a feral kind of way. His sharp eyes and angular features, ears that tapered into subtle points like those of an elf, his indie, wayward sense of style and the way he held himself - with all the grace and confidence of a King, made him beautifully frightening. He remained decidedly silent for a moment, mulling over his next few words carefully before he remarked with blunt interest, drawing out his soft Scottish accent, "Knocking once is enough, thank you."
 
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"Ah..." Sonterro mumbled under his breath when the door opened, looking a little dejected as he stroked his moustache in thought. Whilst it was a dear shame he didn't have a wonderful woman under his command, what was in front of him was still certainly captain material. The man had an imposing frame, and an aura of power and command about him that rightly put his position of captain in place. Looking up from his brief moment of thought, the mustachioed man gave a bow to his new superior. That is, if he was allowed to join. But who wouldn't want to hire a dashing rogue such as himself?

"Oho, yes! One knock, one knock, it is forever implanted in the brain of this man." Sonterro replied, a cheerful tone laced in with his Italian accent. "Sonterro Augustus. Tis' an honour, good captain. And this little devil on my shoulder here is Parry." The little golden drake atop Sonterro's shoulder opened one eye to look at the captain, gave a nod as if to say 'Alright?', before going back to its slumber. Clearing his throat, Sonterro took a step within the room.

"But, ah... yes! I'm sure you know why I'm here. You, good captain, are looking for crew, am I correct?" Sonterro asked, a little spring in each of his steps as he had a look around the warm office of the captain. It was certainly a nice place with a homely and official, but there were a lot of books sprawled on the floor for some reason, almost as if an animal had been in here... nonetheless, Sonterro continued.

"And if that is the case, joining you would be magnifico. But what can this handsome stranger actually do, you may wonder?" Sonterro continued with a grin, clearly getting straight to the point as he talked. "Well. The skills of this man lies mostly in his sword and boarding enemy ships. Plus, I know my way around a gun too." Sonterro paused, before flicking back his hair. "So...? How about it? Or must I prove myself in some sort of initiation sequence, good captain?"
 
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Jack turned on his heel, irritation registering on his face while he watched this strange man make himself at home. "Call me Jack," he said. "Formalities can sod off, for now." He did not offer his cold hand to shake, or show any signs of camaraderie at all.

After another long silence on his behalf, Jack sighed and walked over to the porthole behind his desk. He looked out over the sweeping landscape up ahead, reminded of the sketchbook he had abandoned in order to answer the door. With unnaturally fast reflexes, he whirled back around and shut the open book, pushing it aside in case Sonterro should see. "Ah..." He looked up, feeling the need to change the subject. "There is a storm brewing out there. The sky's been black all morning..."

Outside, a spark of white lightening flashed as if to make a point, followed by the low grumble of thunder.

And then, without warning, Jack had crept up behind Sonterro with his spear in hand. He pressed the wicked blade to his throat roughly and growled as the ship rocked in the wind beneath their feet. "Tell me, Augustus," his eyes flashed a stark shade of blue as he challenged, "How well do you fare in bad weather?"
 
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Sonterro croaked a little as the spear was pushed against his throat. Although he looked seriously unnerved after the random aggressive move and Jack's cold attitude, he didn't show any signs of breaking a sweat. Surprisingly, instead of making a move to run away or call for help at the obscene gesture of being threatened at the end of a spear, Sonterro just smiled, though his body was stiff.

"Bad weather? Oho... I can stand more than a little storm, if that is what you mean." Sonterro whispered. He paused for a few moments, before adding in a casual, "I wouldn't come here to sob at thunder and wind; even in hurricanes, I will find a way to persevere. You may think I am a leaf waiting to be blown away, but this body has been through more than you might expect."

Sonterro's body was still for a good few seconds. If Jack was serious with his spear, he'd have his throat punctured at one move for his sword. Yet, he wasn't just going to stand here at the end of this man's weapon until he let go. What would that prove? Thunder boomed outside as Sonterro's brown eyes glanced over, his eyes bright and full of mettle.

"Jack... you have probably heard this one. But life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass. It is learning to dance in the rain."

Suddenly, Sonterro's body just seemed to disappear from existence, before instantly re-appearing a short distance ahead of Jack. A small teleport was all he needed to get that spear out the way of his neck. Drawing the rapier Maria in his left hand, Sonterro's body instantly came up into a graceful stance as he flicked his hair back in a flamboyant manner.
"Ohh, and, please. Call me Sonterro. Augustus is not a last name I wear with pride." Sonterro chuckled. "So, Mr. Jack... what else must I do to call you my captain? A duel? A game of chess? Or perhaps you have something special in store for me, hmm?"


Despite his confidence, Sonterro knew he was poking a beast with a stick here. Jack's speed was ridiculous; he could probably stab him across the room in an instant if Sonterro let down his full concentration for even a second. But with power like that... there was no better person to call a captain, was there?
 
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"Good..." The flare in Jack's eyes faded, and he took a few steps back. He twitched unconsciously - a sharp shake of the head - surprised by Sonterro's sudden dissapearence. It didn't take him long to recover from his moment of confusion, and he watched the other man out of the corner of his eye, still holding his spear. At least he pointed the blade down at the ground, but he was still not quite ready to let down his defences. "Magic, huh?" He mused, "You didn't mention that earlier... I should have been able to smell it."

He wrinkled his nose slightly, sniffing the air. Strange, the strong scent of iron that usually followed after glam was a little absent. His sharp canines snapped out and he shifted to something half-way between cat and human in a light haze of icy mist, what was visible of the runes scratched into his skin glowing softly beneath his thin shirt. Jack's features slowly became more refined, more elf-like as he ran his a hand through his hair and sighed inwardly. "You can fight if you wish, but I don't think you'd appreciate too many broken bones. Or your face. save your supposed finesse for battle. I will judge then."

Deciding that he was not quite finished with his little inspection, he carefully propped his spear up against the door and advanced towards Sonterro with steady grace. In his half-form, he seemed to relax somewhat, and he summoned the ice to his hands, chilling the room as he looked over his guest curiously. "You react well," he growled lowly, "I think I'll keep you."

Jack flashed a dark smile, just as a brilliant few seconds of lightening bleached the room again, sending shadows dancing across his face. He had a game to play, and a new title. Captain...

 
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"Oho, that is a challenge, yes? Perhaps it is one I will take up one day~." Sonterro playfully replied with the twiddle of his mustache as Jack warned about breaking his face. After a bit of consideration, Sonterro figured that he should actually take Jack's word for it, considering how fast he was. And now, he was changing into something bloody nightmare-inducing, yet entrancing at the same time.

Sonterro licked his lips, flashing a somewhat nervous smile as he sheathed his rapier in a fluid motion. Despite Jack's new unnerving form, Sonterro did his best to act unsurprised, despite never seeing something like this before. The room had suddenly become freezing cold, causing Sonterro to shiver a bit in his light clothing. The lengths this man went to intimidate him were quite extreme... and he loved every second of it.

"Aha! A fine choice, J-Jack! I think we'll both benefit g-greatly from this... brr..." Sonterro replied, swishing back his hair, though he stuttered a little in his speech from the coldness of the room. He was used to the warm woods, not studies made freezing cold by ice magic. "...And, admittedly, little teleports is pretty much all this swordsman can do. I am more a man of steel... if you know what I mean...."

Clearing his throat, Sonterro bounded back up into a readied position, trying to forget about the cold.
"W-Well then! Let us not waste anymore time, yes? I am willing to take up whatever job you have planned for me? Or... perhaps you could give me a luxury tour of this wonderful vessel!" Sonterro paused, before taking up a somewhat naughty expression as he leaned in. "...And maybe you could point me to some of the lady crew members, yes...? Hoho!"
 
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Jack stopped suddenly and extinguished the ice in his hands, frowning. He had perhaps become unaware of how cold things were getting. He stayed in his half-form, more comfortable to tread the line between these alternate versions of himself. "As of now, there is only one female member of crew present," he said, and a distant smile tugged at his thin lips despite the dry tone, "my daughter."

Seeming to calm down a bit, he walked back and picked up his spear again. He looked back over his shoulder at Sonterro. "I intend to take to the skies first thing tomorrow morning, when this weather has cleared up. If you are up for it - and I bloody hope you are - you can clean up the deck and prepare yourself for a fight. It might be me, it might be unwanted company..." In one swift motion, Jack shrugged on a dark wolf-pelt and stalked out the door. He didn't say anything, but he had a way of expecting people to follow him.

"I will show you where you will be sleeping and then my second will go through the rest..." He narrowed his eyes and looked up at the darkening sky as they reached the top deck. He didn't wait for stragglers. "That is, if I can find the bastard..."

Even as the ship rocked in the wind, sharp gusts pulling his hair loose of its bandana, he never once seemed to lose his footing. He pulled his cloak around himself a little tighter and turned around again, walking backwards so that he was facing Sonterro. "You said something about your name, you weren't proud of it... tell me something about yourself while we walk." He had to raise his voice a little to be heard over the howling gale.
 
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