ruinations | adsom: reunions

adsom: reunions

Too much. It was too much.

Neria had slipped into the dark with incredible ease, buried herself in it so she could escape from her trial and from everything else. She jumped through the layers of the world - the dark, the fissures of other realms, a deeper dark she had no name for - and as she went, the world seemed to simply shimmer away. Neria fell through the layers of the realms and Cassian screamed for her. Rather than fight, she simply allowed herself to fall away from the world.

And as she came back out, she stepped from the shadows of an alley, breathless, leaning against the stone. Her eyes adjusted to the gloom as if she'd gone from dusk to twilight and she waited there a moment, pressing the heels of her hands to her eyes until she saw dancing spots. Her chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself.

Cassian whispered to her, cajoling, and she finally came back to herself.

And she was not in Emorr.

The street was unfamiliar. As she stretched her senses through the shadows, she realized that...nothing was familiar here. She'd come out elsewhere in her fit and Neria moved from the alley to quickly begin exploring, keeping to the shadows cautiously.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Only because I can't see over them," Kell answered, frowning as he adjusted to give her two of the boxes. Significantly less than half -- but months in a war camp with a collar around his neck, months at a forced march, fetching and carrying, had eaten away Kell's patience when it came to maintaining appearances.

He knew damned well what this would look like, and he did not care. In fact, in his opinion, it would send precisely the right message.

... especially considering he'd slipped his guards for this errand.

But Neria didn't know about that.

Kell said his goodbyes and final thanks to Calla. She patted both of their arms as they left, invited them to come back as they liked, and they stepped out into the gathering light of day. The Night Market was rather quiet as they walked through it -- this was the time the vendors slept.

As they drew closer to the Isle, Kell pushed back his hood to make his auburn hair visible; it made him stand out like a sore thumb among the few people on the streets, and guards straightened to attention as he neared them, passed them.

Kell walked by them without acknowledgement. Most of them dared not look straight at him, but several were bold enough to regard Neria, wide-eyed, curious, and alarmed.

She took the boxes he offered, shooting him a long look from over the ones he had. Neria did not refute, taking Kell's frown for what it was, and followed him out of the Night Market after a fond and warm farewell to Calla. Neria had hope she would see her again before she departed from this world.

As before, she gained a better view of the city this way, and the boxes allowed her to hide some of her wandering gazes. As they neared the Isle, however, Kell fell aware from all attempts to obscure his appearance. His hair and eye gave him away, and the few people they passed recognized him immediately, pulling themselves together as befitting his rank.

But they did not stare at Kell. They looked at her.

At first, she did her best to keep her gaze on her boxes, or settled elsewhere. As she walked beside Kell, however, she watched how he kept his head high and did not falter, did not even acknowledge those he passed. Slowly, she did the same. She stood straighter, her gaze level with just beyond Kell's shoulder. Every now and then, she did glance toward those who watched her. She did not smile but her countenance, at least, was softer and not so severe.

Mas Aven. She remembered what she had been called. She was an interloper, an outsider. Everything she did would speak to her credibility and whether she could be trusted.

Belatedly he realized he should have warned Neria, but the closer they came to the castle, the more he realized it was self-explanitory, and that he needn't have worried. She could and did hold her own. While he had no illusions over how comfortable she was with being stared at, she could tolerate it well.

Or seemed to, which was what truly mattered in the context of the present.

Kell's boots were loud on the marble flooring of the entrance hall as he strode inside, where a dozen or so servants were busily adding flowers to urns, putting some of the final decorating touches on the already sparkling-clean, highly polished room. It smelled of the cold dew still on the roses, fresh from the gardens.

More distant was the smell of baking bread, hot tea, the faint polish and oil the guards used on their armor and weaponry-

And suddenly, two of those guards were approaching them. Both men wore gleaming armor and carried swords with blades chased in spellwork. One was older, with a severe expression drawn into grave lines. His hair was going to silver.

The other was younger than Kell and Neria both, with bright eyes and softly curling hair. He beamed as soon as he saw Kell -- it wasn't the smile of a sycophant.

"Staff. Hastra." Kell nodded to them both in turn.

"I thought you'd be along soon, sir." the younger man, Hastra, smiled a touch wider, as if he'd argued that point to someone before Kell's arrival. By the stony look on Staff's face, it may have been him.

"I said I would be." Kell sighed, an undercurrent of something like tension in his shoulders if not his voice, and he tilted his head towards Neria.

"Neria, this is Staff and Hastra. My personal guard." Personal guard. As if an Antari needed one.

"This is Neria Surana. She's..." Kell paused, minutely, lips parting as he caught on what to say. "A close friend of mine."

Both Staff and Hastra's eyebrows lifted, but it was Hastra who regarded her with open, warm curiosity, followed by a smile and a bow, which the other guard followed, though not as deep.

"Be welcome," said the boy, a tiny bit breathless. As he came up he looked from Neria to Kell and back again, as if trying to put something together.

Neria held it together as the guards approached, though her grip on the boxes in her hands tightened, if only to ensure she did not do something else. She put her faith in Kell; he would not lead her anywhere where she would be out of her league. Remaining silent, she looked from one guard to the next, gaze briefly wary. Hastra, at least, seemed unassuming.

My personal guard. It garnered a brief glance of confusion toward Kell before that, too, eased away. Questions wouldn't be helpful here.

(She managed to hide her smile when he called her a close friend, though it was a near thing. Her eyes, however, held the faintest hint of mirth.)

To Staff and Hastra, Neria dipped herself into a brief bow. "Thank you, sirs. You've been most kind." She regarded their curiosity coolly; she remembered, after all, what Kell had said before: that those who might ask for him were clearly from other worlds and always a potential danger. That she was Kell's friend made that clear enough.

She wondered though, and perhaps not for the first time, if Kell had been allowed to have friends besides his brother or if his duty encompassed everything. And she wondered if that was who Lila was, once upon a time, and things had changed.

Though Staff gave little away, Hastra was plainly both thrown and awed by the fact that Neria had bowed back -- apparently, the status he'd assumed of her didn't match the display. His cheeks flamed red, and he stepped forward, arms out for the boxes.

"Ah, please let me carry those for you!"

Next to her, Kell held his mouth tight, but his eyes were bright, eyebrows raised. Close to a smile, but clamped down on it, actively trying not to let it show.

"I have arms, Hastra," Kell answered, but not harshly, keeping hold of his boxes when the boy offered to take his too, regardless of what Neria did with hers. "Have the King and Queen decided where they would like her to stay?" Kell asked, clearing his throat behind a hand. Hastra blinked, pulled from his fluster to nod.

"... yes! Sorry, we'll take you there right away." Snapping to attention, Hastra turned to lead the way, and Staff brought up the rear. It was a perfectly proper place for a guard, but... Kell's shoulders stiffened as he took up the position, and he looked straight ahead, following Hastra through the hallways.

The ballroom and hall turned quickly to a more intimate set of spaces, though they were no less beautifully decorated, suitably grand. It somewhat resembled Aallotar, though with far more flowers and greenery. Draped fabrics both muffled sounds and gave the cold marble halls more warmth.

The lights were the glow of magic, or candlelight- though the wax on the candles did not drip or melt. When they came near enough to the windows, soft winter sunlight streamed in.

The room was down a hallway with worked wooden doors -- down at the end, one was inscribed with a stylized golden K. The door Hastra opened for them was unmarked -- but the chamber inside was quiet, beautifully appointed with silvery ash furniture, autumn-red draperies and bedclothes. Touches of gold chased themselves into the details. It smelled of fresh linens and, faintly, lilies.

Edited 2018-09-30 03:16 (UTC)

It was far more difficult for her to contain her own smile, though she kept it carefully controlled, polite but warm. It was slowly getting easier to do so, to feel safe enough to brandish any kind of emotion. Hastra was kind and she appreciated his eagerness.

"Please," she said softly. "I'm used to carrying my belongings. I can do it." Which she might have added also to fluster him further. Who could say?

She turned to glance at Staff as he took up the rear, her gaze then sliding towards Kell, questioning once more. No voice was given to her concern, nor to the uncertain fear she felt that crawled up her back as they walked through the halls. It did remind her almost too much of Aallotar, but there was a warmth here that the halls of the elven lands could not hold a candle to. Where Aallotar had been swathed in blues and silvers, the halls here were bright, made beautiful and lively with flowers and greens that caught the eye. The longer they walked, the more she seemed to settle the barbed edges that had sprung up and the wariness that came with them, until they arrived at the designated hallway.

Down the hall was Kell's room, never too far. Neria hesitated, glancing once at Kell and then at Hastra before consenting to step inside the room. Warmer tones greeted her, inviting. She set the boxes in her arms down upon the dresser in passing as she moved further into the room, where she came to a stop at the center, simply looking around. It was far grander than the castle in Denerim, that much was certain. Barring Aallotar, it was perhaps the most extravagant place she'd been to, and though she had always felt estranged in such environments, this felt...welcoming.

It even had a trace of lilies. To herself, her back to the door, her lips briefly quirked up in a smile.

When she turned back, it had smoothed out. She still carried a wide-eyed expression, openly impressed, and the corners of her mouth were pulled up slightly once more, congenial. "This is breathtakingly beautiful. Thank you. I will have to thank the King and Queen as well for such hospitality."

Kell opened his mouth, and found that he was at a loss for what to say.

Neria had known Kell on a battlefield. In a collar. They'd met covered in dirt and blood and sweat, smelling of desperation. Their friendship had been forged by the fireside, feet sore from marching and terrible wine spreading its lingering taste in their mouths as they spoke of things that Kell, at least, had never spoken of to anyone else.

Neria had never seen him like this. As the brother of a prince, standing in the palace he'd grown up in, fit into too easily. Down the hall from the room that had been his since he'd been a child.

What left Neria wide-eyed and impressed was Kell's every day, and it was difficult not to be painfully aware of it.

All he could do was nod.

Kell set the boxes on the dresser alongside the ones Neria had been carrying and lingered there -- before glancing at the guards still shadowing the doorway.

"Speaking of- when would they like to see us?"

"As soon as you're both settled, sir." Hastra answered, lingering somewhat awkwardly in the doorway. Kell paused, then nodded.

"Neria? Do you need anything before I leave you alone?"

Kell's demeanor had changed, the difference striking even if she could not quite know its cause. He lingered nearby and she thought to ask him, but then she remembered the guards and--

The King and Queen wanted to see them. She shifted somewhat, uncomfortable, and steadied her faint breathing. "No, it's all right. I'll get ready." She would take the time to put away the clothes and redo her hair, and that would be enough.

Softly, she asked Kell before he left: Should I come as I am? Is this enough for them or--

Or should she put something nicer on? Visiting Queen Anora in Denerim had been something else; she had gone there as Warden-Commander responding to the summons of a queen. Here, she was an outsider, and did not know the rules. Should she seem fit for the hospitality they were affording her, or come as close to her own truth as possible, and hope they understood?

Her eyes wandered towards the guards.

Will they be following you or me?

Kell nodded, straightening -- and his lips parted as her thoughts reached out to him, her voice as clear in his mind as if she'd spoke aloud. She so rarely did this when they were near each other, he'd actually forgotten that she could.

He hesitated in his answer, thinking of the King and Queen, and how they were prepared to view her. There were a few seconds of silence before his measured answer.

When I Travel I come as I am.

He wouldn't tell her what to do. There was power and drawbacks in both options, and it would be up to her to decide how she weighed it.

"I'm down the hall," Kell told her, tilting his head as he strode to her doorway, looked back. "I'll leave the door open."

The door clicked shut after him, but his thoughts came steadily, keeping the thread of communication open.

... and don't worry. They're keeping an eye on me, not you.

Neria watched him go and waited until the click of the door to allow her shoulders to slump. He was just down the hall. The door would be open. When she finished, she would go back to him. Until then...

She was efficient, quick, as she moved about the room. She put the boxes away, taking great care with each. With that accomplished, she began to unwind her hair once more, looking for a brush. What Kell said stayed with her: to come as she was. She knew, as he did, that first impressions made all of the difference...and there was power in presenting one way over another. Neria wanted to look acceptable to the King and Queen, knowing this trip would be temporary - but also knowing that if she needed to return, until the doors were officially closed, she would want them to remember her well, and not to remember her as a problem.

Unconsciously, she reached for her throat for the first time in months. She had no pendant to show them, nothing to prove her authority. The elves had taken everything from her. She pressed her knuckles to her eyes for several moments, then gathered the energy to go sit at the boudoir, taking up the brush there to comb out her hair and re-tie it.

Why are they following you, Kell? You said it was as if you only left for moments; what are they afraid is going to happen?

Silence fell on Kell's side of their connection, along with the hot, prickly brush of pain before he closed it off.

It wasn't because of that. It's a long story, but... Kell trailed off, unsure of how to explain in a way that would not make her upset. He didn't need their connection to know how unsettled she already was. I will tell it to you later. It has to do with Holland.

In his own room, Kell washed his face, ran a comb properly through his hair, and straightened his coat, putting himself into a semblance of order. He touched the lock of hair that habitually fell into his eye, then slowly combed it back and out of his face.

Edited 2018-09-30 15:55 (UTC)

She let the brief flash of pain wash over her, frowning. Neria reached out and pressed back, warm against his thoughts, but did not push for answers. Holland was a subject they hadn't spoken of in months, though she remembered the things they had traded about him. But what Kell didn't say became clear to her: these guards were supposed to be with him, and he'd slipped their lead to be at her side.

All right. Give me a few minutes.

She pulled her hair back into something looser, and braided two short strands to pull back into the tie on either side of her head. Neria looked at herself in the mirror and pulled herself from her chair. She made her way to Kell's room, gently knocking for him.

Neria wasn't wrong.

Kell made a sound of assent under his breath, forgetting that she couldn't hear it. When she approached the room she'd find his door cracked, the guards stationed outside out of respect for his privacy.

When she knocked he tugged the door inward a moment later, moved through to join her in the hallway. His eyes warmed as he took her in -- herself as she was. Despite coming from worlds away, Neria... well, she'd always had a certain nobility to her bearing.

She fit the space more than she knew.

Kell offered her his arm.

Hastra moved again to lead, but not before offering Neria a warm smile. The place they went to wasn't terribly far- it was within the same wing of the palace, though closer to the outer rim of the buildings. The hallways gave over to more windows, affording a view of the city, and of the sprawling gardens and buildings of the Isle. It was a touch cooler here, but the sunlight through the well-placed windows warmed them.

In fact, the room they were led to was a sunroom, with glassed windows and roof, fragrant with green and the smell of freshly baked bread, hot tea. The floor was stone covered in soft carpet. It still held a sense of the royal, but... it was not so harshly formal.

Staff and Hastra stayed outside the chambers, but Kell led on -- and they encountered the king and queen almost immediately, seated in comfortable chairs around a glassed table set with tea.

Both of them looked nothing like Kell.

Though Rhy wasn't present -- he'd likely meet up with them later -- the family resemblance was plain. Rhy looked like a perfect blending of his parents. The Queen was a touch smaller than Rhy, a woman with large, careful brown eyes who had grown into matured beauty. Her long hair was braided through with golden ribbons, her every movement purposeful.

The King was a mountain of a man, older, but not gone soft in his age. Standing broader and taller than Kell, he had the look of a man who carried the weight of years of responsibility, but did not falter in the strength to do so. Where Rhy's golden-amber eyes (before the change, at least) had often been laughing, volatile, Maxim's were steady and hard as steel.

Though there was no hostility in how they regarded Kell, there was no warmth, either.

"Father, Mother," Kell said quietly, coming to a stop next to the table. "This is Neria Surana. Neria, this is King Maxim and Queen Emira Maresh."

The queen was the one to politely lift a hand to indicate the two empty seats.

"Please, join us."

When Kell emerged, Neria looked up and gave him a smile to match the warmth that showed in his gaze. It felt too easy to slip her arm around his and to follow beside him, though it certainly seemed surreal. Though they'd walked together several times before, this time they stood side-by-side, no collars, no bloodshed, no war, surrounded by finery.

Considering all they'd been through, it seemed a little like a far-off dream that she was walking in.

But follow him she did, with Hastra kind enough to lead. As they crossed the threshold into the sunroom, Neria forced her anxieties out, for her fear to settle. She held her head high and kept her expression open.

She did not know what she was going to expect from the King and Queen...but their resemblance to Rhy, while logical, surprised her. She saw the strength in both of them, the grace and poise, and inclined her head when Kell spoke her name. She dipped into a deep bow, deeper than she had for the guards. "Thank you, Your Grace," she said, and released Kell slowly so she could sit as he did - and she shot him a brief look if he should try to pull her chair out for her. "I am humbled by your hospitality."

Kell did try to pull her chair out for her -- but he was quick to shoot her a look right back, then sit down next to her, remembering himself and where he was.

Emira's dark eyes took in the byplay, while Maxim's remained fixed on Neria, as if weighing her.

They could hardly keep you in the dungeons, Kell wanted to answer, but he schooled his tongue (and may have thought it too loudly, a bad habit).

"Of course," Emira responded politely, and moved the tea tray closer to them both in offer. One glance at Kell, and he automatically moved to pour them each a cup, if only to have something to do with his hands. "It seems your arrival was as much of a surprise to you as it was to us."

Kell shut his eyes for longer than a blink. The words were pleasant enough, but the question was there.

They could, she whispered back, solemn, but did not meet Kell's gaze this time. Instead, she sat, and she was drawn to look toward Maxim, unflinching beneath the steel weight he leveled upon her. I have been an interloper before. To herself, in silence, she mapped how quickly she could get out if needed, though it was her last resort.

She needed to rise up this time, rather than let herself be hobbled.

Her hands remained in her lap while Kell poured them tea. Her thumb pressed into the back of her hand. "It was, yes. It was my not my intention to intrude upon your world and its sanctuary." She did not say she held remorse over where she came out, nor in her reuniting with Kell. "It was only fortuitous that I knew someone here."

It was only after Kell realized Neria had heard his thought that he had to hold back from flinching visibly. Too soon. Far too soon. Although his parents would never do a thing like that.

Never.

Kell wrapped his fingers around the cup, a habit that didn't look proper, one Emira always chided Rhy for, but tended to look past Kell's indulgence in. She didn't notice now -- her eyes were for Neria, weighing her words, weighing the questions she wanted to ask.

"Would you mind telling us about how you found yourself here? In as much detail as possible? This may help us to understand the circumstances better."

Apparently, they weren't wasting any time.

Neria did not look at Kell. Her eyes were on the King and Queen, her back straight. For once, there was nothing in Kell's thoughts - no warmth, no whisper - as she retreated to keep herself focused. So that nothing on her face would betray whatever it was she felt unless she allowed it.

They did not waste time. She understood why. And she remembered that Kell told her to be honest, even if it did not paint him in a favorable light. She did not want to tell them anything that might hurt him - but she knew what it was to be the protector of a world, the responsibility on a single set of shoulders.

Neria breathed. "I am not from this world, nor am I a native of the world I came from. The one I met Kell in, Asora. In my time there, I have changed. And in these changes, my magic has grown and...has allowed me to slip through the fabric of the world." She tipped her head up and spoke with complete and utter honesty. "But this power was, supposedly, limited to Asora. I did not know it would allow me to slip through to other worlds.

"I wish I could say I chose to come here. I did not. I only wanted to be away from where I was."

Emira's fingertips were resting on the edge of her tea-saucer, and as Neria spoke, frost touched their edges, traced in wisps along the ceramic.

"This power, then, it is involuntary? It responds to your wish, rather than being drawn with purpose?"

Though the Queen's face gave nothing away, she looked somewhat more pale.

She paused again.

"And it drew you here, to Kell?"

She heard the implication. Neria's expression did not change, but her hands were tight around each other, clenched until her knuckles were nearly bleached with effort.

"Its purpose," she reflected gently, "was to take me to safety. It is mine to command and it did as I wished and bid it. I did not provide a destination." To delve further into such questions threatened to open up a door she had kept closed for her safety - for Kell's - if only so she could cope with her trial alone. Her heart had so often been an open book, upended for much of the world to see. She carried her passion and carried her love on her sleeves. For one who had gone so long without someone else to call her own, to have no family or close friends, to never be able to utter the word... Was it any wonder that she wanted that intimacy and closeness, that she wanted to share the emotion she had harbored for so long?

But in the race for godhood, her love was a violent thing, cruel. Better creatures could love the people she cared for. Instead, all she had was poison.

Did her love draw her here to the one person she felt safest with? Why did it not bring her to Hakkyuu?

(Kell's home had a doorway, already opened once. It was, perhaps, the easiest route to take.)

"I do not think it drew me here to him specifically. After all, at any time, Kell could have ordered me to leave. He could have seen me killed." She spoke with a frankness she had already told herself the night before. "I would not have faulted him for it. I understand your need to protect your home from outside threats."

It was Kell the Queen turned her eyes to, then, searching his face. His expression. As if she could see beneath his eyes to the thoughts buried there, as if she could map what he would decide. Kell could have had Neria killed. He could have done whatever it took.

Kell felt the discomfort of her gaze but didn’t move, didn’t squirm under it. He drank his tea, keeping his expression blank.

“We appreciate your understanding of the matter,” Maxim answered, and his voice was deep, deeper than Kell or Rhy’s. He spoke more slowly and with more weight. “But you yourself are not the source of our concern.”

The Queen released the edge of her saucer, and the frost vanished. A small crease appeared between her eyes as she regarded them, a tightness in her mouth.

“If your connection to Kell was the catalyst, we may count it less likely that others will replicate what you have done. If not…”

Edited 2018-10-02 17:44 (UTC)

Neria watched and something cold settled into her bones. She did not look at Kell, would not betray him, but a question burned inside of her that she reined in before it slipped out, knowing it would immediately unsettle what was already upturned.

Maxim spoke and she breathed again. Her gaze returned to him.

"I am equally as concerned as you are, Your Grace," she admitted, and this, too, was not a lie. "That I was able to do this at all is disconcerting. I do not know where the weft in the world is, but I would see it closed permanently to prevent others such as myself from entering this world in the ways that I have."

And to add assurances, even if it made her heart ache, she added, "With that accomplished, I would depart. If possible...I would stand guard to ensure what happened today does not happen again." She did not reach out to Kell, though she desperately wanted to. If she did, she knew her composure would crumble.

She would depart. She would not, however, imply that she would enjoy doing so.

Kell wasn’t in Neria’s mind, and she wasn’t brushing against his, but he didn’t need it to see the cold stillness that settled over her – and he knew that it wasn’t for the reason his King and Queen may have thought it was. It was all he could do to keep his expression blank, to not push against the fragile silence and break something by tipping the balance.

When she breathed again, he let the air in his lungs flow slowly out, masking the moment with his cup against his lips, his eyelashes lowering down and over his eyes.

… and they stayed there, through her promise, though cold stole through his nerves and muscles, into his bones. He didn’t look at her, didn’t look at the royals, fought himself to stillness and silence. He took a deep, long drink of tea.

Meanwhile, Emira’s dark eyes changed, the corner of her mouth tight, and there was something of Kell in her expression now, there and gone.

Maxim nodded, the gold of his crown glinting against his hair. “It is for the best if we move forward with that goal in mind. Your best resource will be Tieren. Kell will work with you both to resolve this.”

It had the tone of an order, and Kell put his teacup down with a short nod. “Yes, sir.”

Maxim sighed, settling back slowly in his chair, the most animation he had shown since the beginning of their meeting – and Emira’s expression finally softened from the careful composure.

“I understand that you were a friend to Rhy and Kell in Asora?”

She was silent, listening, watching. But something in the way they interacted - Maxim, Emira, and Kell - that unsettled her. It had been so many years since Neria had seen and interacted with her own parents, but Irving had never looked at her the way the King and Queen looked at Kell.

But she remembered the look in her father's eyes when he handed her her belongings, her coat, her one pair of boots. The iciness, the distance. It wasn't the same, but it still did not feel right.

Slowly, she reached for the tea that she had not touched, the tips of her fingers testing the heat. She drew the teacup to her with care and sipped silently. Emira addressed her again. Neria set the cup down upon the saucer softly.

"Yes. I am." Present tense. She wished she could reach for Kell in that moment, to hold his hand. To assure him again. She did not.

Instead, Neria lifted her head somewhat, taking in the small changes upon Queen Emira's countenance. "I am very fortunate to have met the both of them. Kell saved my life once and Rhy was a bright light on our dreary traveling days." She tried for a smile that did not come. She only felt tired in remembering what had been.

Edited 2018-10-03 01:44 (UTC)

A change came over Emira then- like something pulling away from her, cracks at the edges of her composure. Her shoulders were set against some invisible weight, composed and still, but the darkness of her eyes told a different story. Someone under that sheen of frost. It was small, there and gone.

She dipped her head in a nod.

“You are welcome here, Neria Surana.”

It wasn’t a polite platitude, or a matter of ceremony.

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