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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Mar 31, 2010 14:28:25 GMT -5
Roderich sat on the floor with his legs crossed, leaning over a large cloth splayed out neatly before him. It had only been a day since their return from his family's castle, but already he was starting to feel a dull ache every time he reached habitually for the bare spot where his case would normally hang against his back.
The sad, splintered remains of what had once been a violin spread out before him. There was no real means of repairing it, but he couldn't bring himself to part with the pieces. Hesitantly, he reached out and brushed one of the larger fragments, feeling a faint residue of the magic he'd infused within through years of playing. His fingers came away slightly oily from the polish, and he rubbed them absently against the edge of the cloth, fighting back a surge of despair.
Taking that piece in hand, he gazed at it longingly before setting it back down. He'd have to go out and try to find another violin, and soon; if he and Gilbert were to head out again, he'd much prefer having more than a shortbow to keep them protected.
Rising to his feet, he stared down at it for a while then froze, tilting his head to the side. Setting down the piece next to another, on what may have been the inside of the violin, he thought he saw the barest outline of what may be a curling, single letter written in black ink. Head tilting even more, his eyes roved the cloth, fingers darting out to try and find more of the strange, curling script. [/blockquote]
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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on Mar 31, 2010 14:53:40 GMT -5
The music room had always been Gilbert's favourite of the manner he stayed in, but he found himself growing to like it even more as of recent weeks. When he was younger, he would spend hours on end in the large space with Frederick, listening to him play whatever instrument had stuck the elderly vampire's fancy for the day. After Frederick had died, Gilbert found himself both wanting to avoid and do to the room at the same time. The memories it held were happy and painful at the same time, yet he could never find a reason to say away. Now that Roderich had seemingly taken a permanent residence in his house, he went more often than not. It was usually where he could find the brunette.
"Hey, you in here, bocchan?" Gilbert called as he pushed open the music room door. "Dinner is..." he trailed off, sighing as he realized what the other was doing. It wasn't the first time he'd walked in on this event, and each time left him feeling a little sadder than before. He could tell how precious the instrument had meant to the other, and he would have done anything to get it back. Now that I think about it... I do have a few favours to pull.
Pushing the thoughts back for now, he moved further into the room and touched the Austrian's shoulder once he was within reach. His eyes held a gentle look of understanding and sympathy, but he kept quiet. Whatever Roderich was doing seemed to be taking up most of his concentration and he didn't wish to break it. Did he find something?
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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Mar 31, 2010 15:16:12 GMT -5
In a very undignified crouch, without looking back, Roderich raised a finger for silence, not even reprimanding the other man for his familiar call of 'bocchan.' "Look at this." He moved that same finger to point at the partially-reconstructed splinters he'd managed to fit together in some semblance of a violin's shape. "Tell me that doesn't look like someone wrote all over the inside of the violin!"
The black script had become all the more noticeable now that he knew what to look for, but its meaning escaped him. There were giant holes in the pattern from the splintered pieces that had broken too small to easily piece together -- after all, it was that section of the violin that had taken the brunt of the hit against the undead creature's head -- but it was becoming increasingly clear that there had once been something written on the inside. The highly-stylized nature of the script didn't help either, and he bit his lower lip in concentration as he stared over the pieces, searching for more of the black ink.
"This handwriting... it doesn't look like my Vater's at all." Excitement colored his voice, and he almost didn't register the German word that slipped between his lips. "That means it might be a note left from whoever took me away from him!" He rose to his feet and turned to the other man, cheeks flushed with happiness. Clearing his throat, he forced himself to some manner of dignity and added more calmly, "It could be another clue." [/blockquote]
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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on Mar 31, 2010 15:54:02 GMT -5
"That's ink, sure..." Gilbert said with a small frown, leaning forward to get a better look, "but a lot of it looks like it's missing. You got any more pieces? My eyes are better. I could probably put it together faster." Roderich's excitement was both easy to see and feel, and it sent a feeling of relief and pleasure over the silverette. He much preferred seeing Roderich smile than frown, and it was good to know that something was finally starting to perk up.
Maybe I should call that favour in after all. If I used the old man's violin, I bet it'd be enough to... He shook his head again. He was getting distracted. Roderich obviously needed his help now and he had to keep from getting ahead of himself. Repairing it risked losing some of the words, but it didn't look as if they would get anything with it splintered the way it was. It wouldn't have taken long for him to get it repaired, as he knew where the person was that he wished to see and how to find them otherwise, but that left making sure he was able to stall Roderich long enough to get it done.
"I know you're excited, bocchan, but I think you should eat first. I went through all the trouble of making it for you and it'd be bad if my awesome cooking got cold. You'll be able to think better after filling your stomach. Brain food, I think you humans call it." He grinned, a teasing tone to his voice as he began pushing Roderich toward the door. "I'm serious, bocchan. Eat. Don't make me lock the music room; I have a key. I'll help you with the message later, ja?"
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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Apr 1, 2010 0:01:51 GMT -5
"I'm not your bocchan," Roderich repeated, closing his eyes in mock-annoyance as he let the other man force him from the room. "And I've told you before that you don't have to make me dinner."
Seriously, that Gilbert followed every order precisely to the letter, save for those two. It had become almost a game to him, Roderich thought -- the "see how long I can annoy Roddy before he actually gets annoyed" game. With a last, regretful look over his shoulder at the music room, he shrugged off the other man's grip and entered the kitchen.
It was somewhat fortunate, Roderich mused, that the two of them had similar tastes in cuisine... backtracking quickly, he revised that statement to mean that they'd both enjoyed the same kinds of food at one time. As he sat down, he lifted the fork and shaved a narrow slice off the meat set on his plate, but didn't bring it to his lips immediately.
He's never really known what it's like to be human, has he? Never...
Shaking his head briskly, Roderich forced himself to eat. Why was he thinking of this now? With some effort, he turned his thoughts back to the mysterious script written on the inside of the violin, and it was all he could do to not shove his food in his mouth to return immediately to the room.
Patting his lips delicately with a napkin, Roderich cast a longing gaze at the kitchen door, knowing that just out of sight was the music room, and there, perhaps, a small piece of his past. [/blockquote]
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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on Apr 1, 2010 6:13:02 GMT -5
Waiting until he heard the familiar sound of fork to plate, Gilbert carefully grabbed each corner of the blanket which held the pieces of the violin and tied them together. Crimson eyes grazed over a violin sitting on the couch, and something in his chest twisted sadly. He would need more than just Roderich's violin, too much of it was lost, and he only knew of where to get one other. ...If it's for Roderich, he thought with a wry smile, grabbing the case, then I'm sure the old man wouldn't mind. With that thought in mind, he hurried out the door and toward the front door; he had a half hour at most. Roderich wasn't exactly a slow eater, but his tendency to keep manners even when eating alone was enough to buy him time.
He doesn't live that far away, either... Gilbert reassured himself as he darted down the walk and clutched both violins to his chest. I'll get in, demand help, and leave. I'm good at that sort of thing. Fortunately for Gilbert, as kind-hearted as the albino truly was, unknown to anyone save for brunette he was on a mission for), he could come off as ridiculously intimidating when he wanted or needed to. He wasn't one to use the thread of death lightly, but he rarely needed to move to such measures and for that he was grateful. He didn't enjoy the idea of killing, though if it were to be considered a skill, he'd be quite good at it. His house is just ahead...
Arriving at his destination, Gilbert entered through an open window without much regard to the door. He wasn't willing to risk any extra time on useless human formalities, and he doubted the man inside would much care as to how he got inside the house. The alchemist owed the Prussian a favour and now it was time to pay up.
Happily, the man didn't seem at all unpleased that the the albino demanded his promise for help be re-payed in such a simple manner, and was more than willing to help when presented with both violins. As Gilbert had expected, there wasn't enough of the first to preform a fill repair, but the violin he'd inherited from Frederick provided more than enough extra material. His fingers lingered over the smooth wood as the alchemist waited to preform his magic, giving the instrument a fond look. He'd never be able to play it again, and as much as that hurt, the knowledge that Roderich might possible be happy again was more than enough to give him a final push.
"Just do it..." he murmured, setting his violin down in the circle before him and backed away. It took only seconds and a flash of light, before he knew it, he was thanking the man for his services and carefully placing what was now, almost completely, Roderich's fixed violin back into Frederick's case. No time was wasted in his trip back home, and a glance at the clock once he walked back through the front door told him that he'd only been gone about ten minutes. Made it...
Gripping the case tightly in his hand, Gilbert silently entered the kitchen and stood by the door. Please, he thought desperately, truly concerned that his attempt at kindness might actually anger the brunette. Please, let this work. I want to see him smiling again. Even if it isn't for me, I want... Dammit, I'm starting to sound like a fricken sap.
With a quick shake of his head, he loosened his grip on the handle and took a step forward. His stomach had started up the bizarre flipping movements again, and his chest suddenly felt to tight. Words wouldn't come, as his throat was too dry to say them at the moment, and he could only pray Roderich would be able to sense the magic from his precious instrument that Gilbert himself could feel radiating off the case.
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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Apr 1, 2010 18:43:09 GMT -5
With a sigh, Roderich paused with his fork halfway to his mouth, gazing at the empty chair beside him. While it wasn't extremely odd for the other man to leave him alone to eat, he had grown used to Gilbert being there more often than not, even if just to make sure that Roderich "fully comprehended how awesome the taste was, because if it was too awesome for him, he'd make something else." Shaking his head, he continued eating, a small smile grazing his lips.
The message he'd uncovered on the violin-pieces fully occupied his mind; he barely tasted the food on his fork as he tried to imagine what it could be. A spell? An apology? An explanation?
Carefully, he pushed his hope down, not daring to get too excited. After the events at the castle, he'd started to accept that there likely wasn't a happy story, and there was probably a reason why his mind had blocked it out... or it had been forced out. Roderich still continued to believe that, and he was starting to think, judging from scribbled notes in his father's diaries, that whoever had taken him must have erased everything for a reason. What that reason could be, he had no idea...
Standing and rolling up his shirt-sleeves, he ran the water to wash his plate and silverware, refusing to leave a mess for Gilbert to clean. Over the sound of the running water, he heard the sound of footsteps behind him. Leaving the plate in the sink for now, Roderich turned and smiled, opening his mouth to remark on the other man's slightly flushed face and concerned expression, but froze as his gaze drifted to what was in the other man's hand.
"Is that..." Gaze sharpening, he wiped his hands hurriedly on a dishtowel and approached the Prussian, gently taking the case from the other man's hands and setting it on the table. This was Frederick's case, so why this familiar magic...
Hardly able to breathe, Roderich tilted his head and popped the clasps, opening the case with trembling hands. "This is..." He forced his hands still before lightly touching the smooth wood of the violin within, feeling it call to him with a slightly different voice, but its voice all the same. "This... this is impossible." His voice almost broke as he gingerly lifted it free from the case with both hands, afraid that if he held it too tightly, it would vanish like an illusion. "This is my violin... how did you fix it? There was no way that there were enough pieces..."
Before the Prussian could answer, he spun and stared at the case, eyes widening. "Gilbert..." he said slowly, grip tightening on the instrument, "Where is the violin that is normally in this case?"
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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on Apr 1, 2010 21:15:00 GMT -5
Wincing, Gilbert quickly shifted his gaze toward the small window above the sink. It had been his original hope that Roderich would be far too pleased with the return of his precious violin to question how it had been done, but luck had never been kind to him when it came to the brunette's curiosity. Lying was pointless, if the Austrian detected the faintest hint of dishonesty, he could simply order the truth and the albino would be obliged to answer. Which meant he had to answer.
"Dammit, Roddy... Couldn't you have just been happy it's fixed any leave it at that?" Sighing, Gilbert turned away, walking toward the icebox with a blank look. "...I'd guess whatever is left of it is being used to light that alchemists fire about now. There wasn't enough material from just your violin, and I didn't have time to go out and chop trees so..." he trailed off and signed. "The old man trusted me with that violin, and at least, this way... if I can't protect you myself, this way, you'll always have something of mine to keep you safe."
As lame as the excuse was, part of it was true. Gilbert knew perfectly well that, vampire or not, he couldn't keep Roderich from avoiding every cut and scrape, but he'd be damned before he gave up trying to help. "It was my choice, alright? I just... hated seeing you so upset over it. I bet the old man would be happy to know I gave it to someone... important."
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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Apr 1, 2010 22:27:42 GMT -5
For a moment, it was as if Roderich had forgotten how to speak as his mouth moved soundlessly, staring first at the instrument in his hand, then at the Prussian across the room. "Y-you used Frederick's violin?" emerged from between his lips softly, violet eyes staring down as his fingers caressed the smooth wood.
Everything about this instrument was perfect, as perfect as only magic could make it. Every fiber of the wood hummed in a soundless melody of magic through his fingers, almost begging to be played and released. The two different colors of wood from the two instruments had combined into a beautiful, seamless swirl that was at once complementary and starkly different that mimicked the flow of mana contained within. There was deep emotion contained within this instrument, years -- no, centuries -- of laughter and tears and magic and music, blending together to create this one instrument.
Roderich's heart thudded painfully in his chest as he stared at the other man, feeling every emotion that had gone into the making of this instrument. There was the slightest tinge of a cold indifference -- the man who had forged it, obviously -- that was fading away in light of the overwhelming warmth that spread from the instrument through his fingers into his body. What was this...?
"Gilbert..." Stunned, baffled eyes glanced back at the other man. "Gilbert, I could have waited. You didn't need to do this! What were you thinking?" There was nothing accusatory in his voice, no anger or malice; confusion mixed with a note of horror was all that could be heard as he clutched the violin tighter, heart aching for the other man. "I could have purchased another violin, you fool! I know what Frederick meant to you, how could you--" He bit his tongue and took several steps forward, almost against his will as he stared at the Prussian. No further words would come, his throat working noiselessly. He didn't understand, he didn't!
Someone like me... doesn't deserve someone like you. How could you give yourself so selflessly to me? I don't understand, I don't--
His eyes pleaded with Gilbert to understand, to explain. His hand reached out hesitantly and cupped Gilbert's cheek, forcing his crimson eyes to stare into his own violet orbs. "Gilbert, why...?" [/blockquote]
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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on Apr 2, 2010 16:19:27 GMT -5
Why...? Gilbert repeated quietly, peering at Roderich with a sad smile. Because... I care. Because you're my world. I want to see you smile. I want to know I'm the one who put it there. Dammit, Roddy... The answer played itself easily in the Prussian's mind, listing reason after reason for why he cared so much, but none of the words would from properly in his throat. Each time he would open his mouth, there was only silence, and soon after he gave up. Why can't you see how much I care...?
"I did it... because I wanted to, bocchan," Gilbert's smile grew faintly, giving it a more genuine look. His hand rose to cover the brunette's as he carefully turned his head and pressed his lips to the palm that had been cupping his cheap. "That violin... it meant very much to you, ja? I still have the old man's flute and house... his piano and everything else. That's enough. I have awesome memories... It's mine to do with as I wish, you know. And... I wanted to save yours." His fingers slowly interlaced with Roderich's and brought the hand to his lips, nuzzling the back affectionately. "And I..." he paused, head snapping toward the kitchen door. The unmistakable sound of footsteps echoed in his ears and, although he doubted the brunette could hear it, he knew who it was. "...Dammit."
Releasing the Austrian, he jumped back, and began preparing a second plate from the leftover food. His features were set in a thing frown, and he silently cursed himself for having fallen to Roderich's orders in letting a third member of the house move in. Every time, every time, he thought he'd found a chance to come out; to be honest and show Roderich how much he cared, she showed up. It was like the woman had a radar that went off whenever he tried to get too intimate and it drove the vampire mad.
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Post by Elizaveta Héderváry on Apr 2, 2010 23:58:51 GMT -5
To be truthful, Elizaveta wasn't sure anymore if what she was doing is right... or wrong. It just felt like it was the right thing to do back then, when she was offered a place to stay by Roderich, right after that eventful night. She was too happy, too relieved, despite what just happened, to have finally found him. Her long-lost friend. It doesn't matter that Roderich didn't remember her, she still remembers and if the Austrian wanted to, she would be more than glad to help him.
About the other man though... she was not sure. There's something she couldn't quite place when it comes to that silver-haired boy who claimed Roderich to be his young master. Something was off with him, she was sure about that. Not to mention that they've bickered from the first moment they greeted each other. Great, that definitely didn't help her dislike towards the other.
Sighing, the Hungarian stood from her bed and make her way out of the makeshift room to the kitchen. "Roddy? You there?" Calling the Austrian with his pet name she once used to call him with, Elizaveta peeked from behind the door, wanting to make sure that she wasn't intruding on anything. ... even though she probably had, by calling out Roderich's name.
Oh well, that doesn't matter anymore she suppose. Until this Gilbert guy proved his worth in front of her eyes, she won't let him be with Roderich alone for too long. That might sounded like she was an ungrateful little bastard, but there were reasons behind this. Reasons that might sounded weird if she were to told them, and thus, for now she'll settle with being suspicious of the other's motives.
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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Apr 3, 2010 19:58:36 GMT -5
"Gilbert, I..." Roderich stumbled forward slightly at the sudden lack of a hand holding his. The back of his hand still tingled with the strange warmth of the Prussian's lips as he held it close to him, baffled with the other's curse and quick, unhappy movements as he set a second plate. Gilbert, what...
Then he heard her voice, calling his name, and the slightest of frowns crossed his face as he stared at Gilbert before turning to the door. "Elizaveta," he called, using his voice to ensure that she would be able to find the kitchen.
He still wasn't sure what to make of this young woman, a woman seemingly thrust on him by fate's hand. The odds... what is the probability of meeting a woman from my past who seems to know me so very well in that woman's trap...? She seemed honest enough, but he had to admit that he wasn't the most observant when it came to judging safety. There was an overriding hope that pleaded that she was telling the truth, that she really did know something about his past, but he had yet to interrogate her thoroughly about what she knew.
After the events in the castle, he could never be too careful. But something about this woman drew him in... the feeling of a memory he'd once had, and since forgotten.
Carefully setting the violin in its case, he let his fingers ghost over it with a loving smile, so quick it could barely be seen. "I trust you are comfortable with your accommodations?" he continued, turning to offer her a warm smile and gesture for her to sit and join them. "Please, eat something."
His smile turned to Gilbert in thanks, and a small part of him wanted to reach out and return the gentle kisses on the other man's hand. Forcing such thoughts from his mind with no small amount of difficulty, he returned his gaze to the young Hungarian woman and rested his chin atop laced fingers. "Is there something you needed?" [/blockquote]
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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on Apr 3, 2010 20:26:16 GMT -5
Damn her... Gilbert thought bitterly, standing dutifully near the counter, ready to move should he be ordered to do something. Why did she have to show up now? His gaze kept to the wall across from him, not trusting himself to look at the brunette female without glaring. It wasn't that he hated her, part of him found the Hungarian female quite interesting. She was pretty, that much the Prussian could be honest about, but not the type he would have fallen for, even as a human.
The woman was kind to Roderich, and through his many years of observation and training, it was easy for him to tell that her words were genuine. Simply by watching the way she would look at the Austrian told him that the story of their friendship as children was true. However, truth or otherwise, that didn't mean he had to like the idea. It was only out of respect for the Austrian that he kept his true opinions to himself. Though it didn't stop him from teasing her when given the chance; even if the teases were somewhat lazy on his part, if not somewhat boring to the seemingly thought-out ones he used on his contractor.
"Enjoy your meal," he muttered absently, gesturing the the plate he'd set down for Elizaveta to take. He hadn't eaten anything since the night before the party, but with a new face in the house, his diet wasn't the best to be careless about. Excuses were easy enough to make for not eating in front of others, but one could only say so much if caught with a packet of blood to their lips or the crimson liquid on clothes and lips. He planned to try and leave that night with Roderich's permission to find small animals to feed on, but for now, he would simply try and focus on the calming sound of the bruenette's heartbeat. He seems more at ease with her than when I first met him... But that only makes sense. She's human. She's... better for him.
Gilbert did find it slightly annoying that he was forced to act and "appear" human even in the confinement of his own home now, but at the very least, it was good practice for long-term contact with humans who didn't know his secret. For Roderich he would behave and be careful. The slightest slip could have ruined quite a bit. If he were found out and the Hungarian wanted to get away from him, there was little doubt in the Prussian's mind that Roderich would follow her. That was how it always worked for him, and how it always would. Though part of him was equally convinced that the brunette wouldn't leave; not after all they'd been through. Still, for now, he would simply play the role of servant and do as he was told.
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Post by Elizaveta Héderváry on Apr 3, 2010 22:40:25 GMT -5
Oh, so her memories are right after all. She had found the kitchen without anyone else's help. The house, despite big and lavished, are not hard to navigate at all. It didn't took her long to memorize which room is which, despite the fact that she had only been here for a short time. And... judging from how they acted around each other, Roderich and Gilbert must have been living together or at least known each other for quite a time now. Those two just seemed so... comfortable around each other, she didn't feel like she was welcomed here.
She shook her head slightly, trying to force the negative thoughts out from her mind. No, it was good enough that they offered her a place to stay here. It was beneficial to her, even though that meant she would have to postpone her search for that old gypsy for some time. Just until Roderich got his memories back... Taking a hesitant step towards the direction the other's voice, Elizaveta gave the room a once-over, only to find herself in an awkward situation. So, she did intrude on something, given the silence between those two.
"Ah yes. Thank you for the offer, it helped me so much," The Hungarian answered, a genuine smile on her face in response to what the Austrian had given her. She eyed the dining table with curiosity, wanting to know what kind of meal would a house this luxurious offer to its guest before seating herself comfortably (or not, really, she could feel Gilbert's dislike for her) on the chair.
"I hope I'm not intruding on something? Your..." what should she call Gilbert anyway? Servant? No, it doesn't look like so... "protector there seemed like he just got his toy taken away from him." She threw a meaningful smile at Gilbert after saying this, directing her gaze back to her childhood friend before her right after she done so. "So... uhm, you really... don't remember anything, Roddy?"
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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Apr 3, 2010 23:02:43 GMT -5
Roderich coughed lightly, face turning a curious shade of pink, wondering how she would react if he said that she was, in fact, interrupting something, but for politeness's sake he smiled and lied, "No, no... not at all. And as I keep saying, my name is Roderich, not 'Roddy'."
His lips twisted uncomfortably as he watched her stumble somewhat awkwardly over her words. "No, I don't remember anything..." he sighed, moving his fingers from his chin to press against his temples as if the motion would force memories from his mind. "My entire childhood is gone." A wan smile crossed his face as he looked at the Hungarian woman. "So I must apologize yet again, but I simply cannot remember you."
With another sigh, his shoulders slumped a bit. "Recently, I have discovered -- rediscovered -- my childhood home and learned who my father was... I'm still going through records." Trying to keep desperation from his voice, he added, "Since you seem to have known me before... can you perhaps enlighten me about anything?"
Violet eyes analyzed her face, trying in vain to bring any memory of her to the forefront. There was nothing, nothing on any of his mind's puzzle pieces even remotely resembling the young woman. "Anything at all," he added with some sadness. "A favorite pet. A scraped knee. Anything."
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