Lt. JG Peters + PNPC Lt. Sheridan: Pub Crawl Part 1 (NT)

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chythar skyfire

Apr 29, 2015, 11:27:06 AM4/29/15
to Starbase 118 IC
​​((Starbase 118: Vance Sheridan’s Quarters))

::It had been a tough few days. After his meeting with Sal Taybrim and confronting what had happened to him aboard the Noguwip, Vance had been hoping that things could start getting back to normal. It had been draining and it hadn’t always been easy, but he’d been good at putting on a brave face so far. He’d spent the early part of the evening filling his face with ice cream, which he’d replicated to compliment a beaver tail, and patching himself into some of the latest stand up comedy shows from Earth. It was having a limited effect but he was about ready to just admit defeat and turn in. That was until the moment of a fateful call over the comm…::

Peters: =/\= Lieutenant Peters to Lieutenant Sheridan. =/\=

::Vance tapped at his badge to answer, feet still up, mouth half full of a scoop of cookie dough ice cream.::

Sheridan: =/\= Sheridan here. What’s up, Cadfael? =/\=

Peters: =/\= I was contemplating a tour of the eateries. Ready for it, wing man? :: His voice had a hint of a playful aspect to it. :: =/\=

::Vance wasted no time in heeding the call to arms. The bowl of junk food was on its way to the recycler before he even had time to take a breath to answer and he knew there were a few things he was going to have to take care of before he could “report for duty”, so to speak. Despite his hangups about the fact there could be a telepath sat anywhere in a bar, sifting through his private thoughts, he suspected that this was just the thing he needed to break him out of the day’s funk. Besides, it wasn’t as though he was just going out to sit around and do nothing - he had a job to focus on.::

Sheridan: =/\= OK, sure. Where do you want to meet up? =/\=

Peters: =/\= I was thinking we could meet at the Watering hole and start there. =/\=

Sheridan: =/\= See you there in twenty minutes? That should give me time to get ready? =/\=

::He unzipped his jacket, removed it and dumped it on one end of the sofa. He was going to need a sonic shower if he was going to be someone’s wingman. It was no good if the guy feeding people the opening lines looked and smelled like a scruff.::

Peters: =/\= Sure thing. =/\=

::The line closed, and Vance set about looking for his choice of armour. He’d always enjoyed a night out when he was at the academy, and some of his female friends had been very complimentary about his sense of style. He left a trail of pieces of uniform from his sofa to the dresser as he deployed all of the time-saving methods he could think of to make sure he didn’t wind up running late. After rummaging through the clothes he had brought with him, and a quick sift through the replicator patterns, he decided on an outfit, and carried it over the back of one arm to go and get cleaned up.::

(( Peters’ Quarters ))

:: Lieutenant JG Cadfael Peters had been organizing his room and glanced into his closet for something to wear, and felt that he was actually hungry. With a pair of jeans, black shirt and a leather jacket, he didn’t think he could go wrong with that. As he pondered the idea, he tapped his badge. :: 

Peters: =/\= Lieutenant Peters to Lieutenant Sheridan. =/\=

::Vance tapped at his badge to answer, feet still up, mouth half full of a scoop of cookie dough ice cream.::

Sheridan: =/\= Sheridan here. What’s up, Cadfael? =/\=

Peters: =/\= I was contemplating a tour of the eateries. Ready for it, wingman? :: His voice had a hint of a playful aspect to it. :: =/\=

:: The engineer couldn’t help but smile as Vance answered. This was going to be a fun night, he hoped. The perfect thing after familiarizing oneself with the base all day. ::

Sheridan: =/\= OK, sure. Where do you want to meet up? =/\=

Peters: =/\= I was thinking we could meet at the Watering hole and start there. =/\=

Sheridan: =/\= See you there in twenty minutes? That should give me time to get ready? =/\=

Peters: =/\= Sure thing. =/\=

:: He closed the line and took his desired clothing out of the closet to lay it on the bed. He needed a shower and definitely needed time to shave if he intended to meet any beautiful ladies. He paused mid-stride and thought that over for just a moment. oO Or handsome men. Oo With a smile, he started to take off his uniform to prepare for his shower. ::

(( The Watering Hole, Twenty Minutes Later ))

:: Peters was clad in black, the look of the typical biker about him. Black leather jacket, black t-shirt, and black jeans. His hair was slicked back with a little gel, and he sat at the bar with a now empty cola as he waited for his wingman. It was going to be an interesting night, to say the least. He didn’t know how drunk he wanted to get, but at least it would be a good tour of the pubs. If he met anyone, it would be either because of his amazing good looks or because of the charm of his wingman, whom he hadn’t known very long. oO Here’s hoping. Oo he thought to himself. ::

::Vance rocked up to the watering hole for the first time wearing a dark blue textured shirt, open-collared despite his choice to wear a grey tie with horizontal navy stripes, straight cut black jeans and a smart-looking pair of dark grey sneakers. His hair was artfully messy. He spotted Cadfael Peters sat at the bar, immediately noticing that he was dressed in all black. He’d seen a couple of bikers during his academy days; it looked like a similar kind of outfit.::  

::Crossing the establishment, he joined the lieutenant at the bar, greeting him with a friendly smile.::

Sheridan: Hey!

Peters: Oh, hey, Vance. 

Sheridan: Sorry, I hope I didn’t  keep you waiting too long. ::The bartender stepped into view and raised his eyebrows, waiting for an order.:: Gimme a double Yukon Jack, straight up and… what are you having, Cadfael?

::Vance was certainly in a drinking mood. In fact, the quicker he could take the edge off things, the better the wingman he felt he could be. He was in a whisky mood, but he felt like he would prefer something a little sweeter; the honey-blended liqueur seemed like a good choice - and there was the fact that it was named after his home province, even if it originated from Québec.::

:: The young engineer didn’t necessarily have anything planned for alcohol, but he couldn’t just leave his wingman drinking by himself. It was going to be a long night, and if he sticked to just one form of drink he’d be fine. Rum and coke was less damning than Andorian ale, which was on his list of taboo. Even with a wingman, he shouldn’t be drinking ale by himself unless his buddy was able to cut him off after the first shot. ::

Peters: Rum and coke, neat.

::The barman went about preparing their drinks. Vance’s, which took just a second to pour, arrived first, followed by Cadfael’s. Once both drinks were poured, the Canadian lifted up his glass.::

Sheridan: Here’s to a successful night. Cheers.

Peters: Cheers.

::They clinked their glasses together, and Vance downed his double shot, making sure to include the obligatory grimace as the alcohol burned his throat on the way down. The barman was still close by, so he slid his glass forward and attracted his attention.::

Sheridan: I’ll take another one of those, please.

::The barman nodded, and tended to the refil.::

:: Cadfael sipped his drink and and thought about the roadmap of their evening. He hadn’t actually gotten very far with a plan for the night. Though the sudden question shook him from his reverie. ::

Sheridan: So, how’ve you been?

Peters: Eh, a bit of this, a bit of that. Had a drink or two with my pal JC, got my quarters sorted… still feeling a little out of it though.

::Aside from the time he’d spent cooped up in his office, throwing himself into his work, Vance hadn’t done much other than try to drown his sorrows in comfort food. He didn’t really feel like talking about it, though - that would spoil the mood and ruin the night.::

Sheridan: Yeah, it’s been a tiring couple of days, but I’m OK. Looking forward to letting my hair down a little. 

Peters: Sounds like a good idea. 

Sheridan: So, what’s the plan for tonight?

::Vance was pretty sure he knew the drill - head into a bar, check out who was there, figure out who Cadfael wanted him to try to set him up with… then at some point, when the mission was accomplished, go make his own fun, or head back to his quarters and collapse face down into one of the sofa cushions. What he didn’t know was whether or not Cadfael had planned out which places they were planning on heading to, or if they were just going to play it by ear.::

Peters: Hadn’t gotten that far. Tour the pubs, sample the food or drinks, and check out the scenery.

Sheridan: OK, and how about the... target identification system. ::He laughed at how ridiculous that sounded.:: If you see someone you want to go for, are you going to, like, point at them? Or, uh… maybe use the whole ‘o’clock’ thing, like a fighter pilot?

:: He knew the system, as he’d used it a couple of times in target practice on the phaser range, and had used it on a few away missions. ::

Peters: I’m familiar with it. That sounds like a plan. 

::Vance grinned, pleased that they were going to be able to keep a bit of a running joke going.::

Sheridan: Great. Then I’ll make sure I stay sharp and keep my eyes peeled. Maybe I’ll figure out what your taste is like as the night goes on.

:: Cadfael sipped his drink and glanced around the pub and tried finding a target. A hint of mischief gleamed in his eyes as he looked at his wingman. ::

Peters: Couldn’t help but notice you’re rather attractive yourself.

::Vance just caught something in Cadfael’s eye that told him he wasn’t just passing comment on that to express confidence in his abilities to reel in the people he targeted on their night out. Feeling a little uncomfortable all of a sudden, Vance knew he needed to choose his words carefully - the last thing he wanted to do was offend Cadfael, really. Even so, it seemed as though the night wasn’t going to be quite as simple as he’d hoped.:: 

Sheridan: Oh, uh… thanks. I um… ::he tried to smile through his concern:: Well, I’m flattered, but you’re not really my type. If you know what I mean. Sorry, I guess I didn’t really see that coming. I just took everything at face value. I didn’t realise I was one of the people you might have wanted me to uh… set you up with.

::He was a little embarrassed, but mainly worried that the night was about to go off the rails. Things felt painfully awkward.::

:: As the counselor explained, Cadfael had another sip of his rum and coke. He wasn’t prepared for the explanation, but he didn’t react like he’d been hit in the chest as he had when he read the letter from Ayiana. He was a little intoxicated, so perhaps the pain of rejection wasn’t hitting him as hard as it did when he was sober. :: 

Peters: I understand. :: and he downed the rest of his drink. :: Let’s go check out a few bars, a’right?

::And just like that, it was OK. Vance let out the breath he had been holding, dispatched his own drink, and then turned towards the exit.::

Sheridan: OK, so where’s our first port of call?

:: There were ports of call...oh, right: the bars on the starbase. That’s why he was here. Due to the alcohol, limited though it was, he had definitely lost sight of the big picture. Good thing he was still mostly sober, otherwise this would be a long night. He did just down half a rum and coke. ::

Peters: Anywhere that isn’t here. I’m not seeing...not seeing anything in particular.

Sheridan: So what kind of girl or guy do you go for? Should I be keeping an eye out for anything in particular? Or is it a case of you don’t know until you see ‘em? You know, like window shopping?

::He was aware that they were effectively about to start objectifying everyone on the promenade, but it wasn’t something he tended to do regularly. It didn’t seem likely to cause any harm in the long run, and if it boosted Cadfael’s confidence then the ends definitely justified the means.::

Peters: I’m not really sure, actually. Brunettes and blonds have captivated my interests in the past, though I don’t think any of them made it through the academy. Redheads can just be...trouble. 

:: He vaguely recalled and referenced Ayiana with that statement, though it was irrelevant: she wasn’t here. And last he knew, was still on the Victory anyway. ::

::It was always interesting when people wound up being classified by hair colour. There was no denying, though, that it was one of a few foundations that many people unconsciously used as one of their attraction criteria.::

::Well, in species with hair, of course… you didn’t see too many Deltans choosing their mates in that way.::

Sheridan: What about black hair? 

::He guessed that was the only other major option from a human perspective, although there were plenty of other species with hair of different colours. Purple on Boslics, for example.::

Peters: It’s possible. I mean, not just limiting myself to humans… Like I said, I’m not really sure what I’m looking for.

Sheridan: Well then I think the best way to figure it out is to get ourselves out there. ::He pointed towards the door.:: Onward!

::There was definitely no way that four shots of Yukon Jack had already started to influence him, of course.::

:: Since the engineer didn’t know Vance very well, there was no way to tell how much the alcohol had affected his comrade. Cadfael felt a bit intoxicated but still felt relatively fine. It was interesting in the respect that they were both drunk, and looking for a bit of something. Then again, academy days flashbacks. This was all the stuff he missed out on when he had his nose in the books. ::

Peters: Lead on, Vance. You know the local hangouts better than I do.

::Actually, Vance didn’t know the local hangouts at all. He’d been here a few days longer than Cadfael at best, and spent all of them either in his quarters or the counselling offices. Still, if it was going to be a case of the blind leading the blind then he was quite happy to take charge.::

Sheridan: OK. Let’s try… this way. 

::They headed out of the Watering Hole and to the right to see where fortune would lead them. A couple of units down the promenade there was a club that looked horrifically tacky, but like the kind of place that you might start your night out. There was a sign outside advertising cheap drinks (not that you tended to pay for things if you were a Federation citizen, but there was no telling which race or political power some of the visitors belonged to), coloured lighting and an almost definite sense that there would be another prerequisite taken care of - sticky floors.::

Sheridan: The Risan Rave? ::He laughed:: OK, well if we don’t find someone in there then it’ll be a miracle. Is that… are they handing out horga’hns at the entrance?

Peters: Is that unusual?

::As they rounded the corner and could see a little better, it seemed he was right. A bikini-clad woman, clearly human rather than Risan, and a man in a quite ridiculously small pair of swimmers (which maybe some people might have found attractive if he wasn’t Bolian and overweight) were poised and ready to give anyone who entered a carved, wooden, miniature totem that symbolised the hunt for a relationship.::

Sheridan: You’re kidding me. ::They approached the entrance, and he took one of the offered items, handing it to Cadfael.:: OK, that’s for you. Think of it as your wingman backup system. Let’s hit the bar, and then see what we can find.

:: Cadfael’s brows raised, the effects of the alcohol starting to wear off a little. The horga’hn that was pressed into his hand. He vaguely recalled that it was the symbol for virility, though he had no idea if it would actually work. The atmosphere seemed to suggest it might conceivably work, though the engineer was still skeptical. ::

Peters: I’m not all that familiar with Risan iconography. This is supposed to be an invitation for companionship, right?

Sheridan: That’s it. Basically it’s a visual sign to say that you’re available. ::He smiled.:: I guess the Risians like to just cut right to the chase, eh?

:: Vance couldn’t be more right. Cutting to the chase seeming like a good idea, in fact. And he looked up from his hand with the icon, took in a glance of the entrance to the bar. Time to get to work. ::

Peters: Shall we venture into the lion’s den?

Sheridan: You bet. 

::Now seemed like as good a time as any. Vance led Cadfael inside, resisting the impulse to cringe as he saw the tropical décor, and immediately heading for the bar. He hadn’t taken a horga’hn - he felt like showing up to hit someone with the initial small talk needed before sending them Cadfael’s way would come over quite differently if he had a one of those on display.::

:: Cadfael followed in his wingman’s wake, eyes scouting the enticing atmosphere for someone who caught his fancy. His knowledge of Risan drinks was limited. In fact, non-existent.  He didn’t order a drink right away, and as he put his free hand on the bar spun around to survey the area behind him. ::

Peters: Two o’clock, blond hot male.

::Vance turned his head to the right, looking for the individual in question. He had zero experience of picking up guys in bars, but he didn’t see why he couldn’t just use the same kind of approach as he used for girls. It looked like the man Cadfael had spotted was actually in the club alone. He was holding a horga’hn, which was a good sign. The Canadian gave his friend a quick nod and a thumbs up.::

Sheridan: Two o’clock. Roger. 

::He peeled off from his position at the bar and approached the man casually, but confidently. As he got closer, he became vaguely aware that you could all but see the guy’s abs through his shirt. It had him feeling guilty that it had been quite so long since he last decided to visit the gym. His target noticed him walking over, and greeted him when he arrived, which saved the trouble of having to think up an ice breaker.::

Blonde guy: Hi.

Sheridan: Hey. I’m Vance. How you doing?

::Blondie responded with a satisfied smile.::

Blonde guy: I’m Wilson. Or at least that’s what my friends call me. You can call me Wil.

::Vance blinked at him for a second, frantically thinking of his next play. It seemed to be going very well so far.::

Vance: Alright, Wil it is. So, are you here on your own?

Wilson: For now I am, although I’m hoping I won’t be when I leave. ::He took a long draught of his drink, a colourful-looking tropical cocktail, no doubt one of the nightly specials. He looked Vance over as he did so, not all that subtly.:: No horga’hn? Leave it at the bar?

::Vance laughed, rubbing at the back of his head. He looked back to where Cadfael was stood, gesturing to indicate his friend.::

Vance: Uh, actually I didn’t pick one up, but my friend over there is totally looking for someone. I’d like to introduce you, actually?

::Wilson smiled, took another drink from his cocktail, checked Peters out, and turned to lean against the bar.::

Wilson: Ahhh, I think I’m OK. Unless you want to stick around and talk some more. We can go someplace else if this is a little too full on?

::Vance chewed at the inside of his cheek. “It”was a little too full on, all right, but “it” wasn’t the bar so much as Wilson himself.::

Sheridan: You know what? Thanks for the offer, but I’m actually going to go back and hang out with my friend some more. Enjoy your drink…

::He turned his back on Wilson and made his way back to Cadfael quickly to give him the mission report.::

:: Peters had a sip of a soda, which he’d ordered while Vance was off talking to the hot mark As he noticed his friend’s return, he raised an eyebrow curiously. ::

Peters: How’d it go?

Sheridan: Not good news. Well, crash and burn, actually, but I don’t think you’re missing out on much.

Peters: Bummer. :: and had another sip of his drink, blinking away the lingering effects of the rum from earlier. :: Well...that sucks. 

::Vance blew out a long sigh, deciding to spare Cadfael the detail that ‘Wil’ had seemed to be more attracted to him. He wasn’t ready to give up just yet, though.::

Sheridan: Well, he was only target number one, so we have time.

::He caught the attention of one of the bartenders, tried ordering a Yukon Jack and was told they only served Risian drinks. He caught the urge to protest and ask them to just go use the replicator before it could fully take hold, though, directing them to get him one of the cocktails instead, preferably something fizzy.::

Sheridan: You see anyone else?

:: It took the young engineer another moment of surveying their surroundings before he caught sight of an absolute stunner: one of the darlings about twelve feet away with wavy brown hair. ::

Peters: Brunette, four o’clock. Wavy hair.

::It looked like this one was on the dance floor. There were a couple of friends with her, so Vance was going to need to readjust his strategy, slightly. Dancing wasn’t something he tended to do often, but he’d survived through the academy nights out with enough of an idea of how not to totally embarrass himself.::

Sheridan: OK, I see her. Here goes nothing!

:: Cadfael had another sip of his drink and watched as Vance headed onto the dance floor. This would either go well, or explode in his face. He hoped it wouldn’t be the second one, though after the may be asking too much for Murphy’s Law to leave him alone. ::

::Vance left his freshly-poured drink at the bar and made his way across the dance floor. The trick was taking an indirect approach and moving just enough in time to the music to not draw attention to himself until the right moment. There was a fairly steady beat to the music that was playing, which made life relatively easy in that regard, but finding a way to subtly introduce himself was going to be more of a problem. He moved around the edge of the group of friends until he found a space near to his mark, watched how they were dancing for a moment, and then joined in as best he could. When they made space for him, he grinned, and took his place in the circle.::

::Once the song was done, he dug into his alcohol-fuelled bravery reserves and spoke to the whole group.::

Sheridan: That was good fun! You mind if I steal your friend here for just a second?

::There was a raucous cheer and excited laughter from the group of women; the brunette blushed and feigned shock, fanning herself with both hands as she followed Vance a few steps away. He had to raise his voice to talk to her, as another song had started. Behind them, the woman’s friends started dancing again.::

Sheridan: Sorry to embarrass you like that. I’m Vance.

Brunette: :: blushing :: Oh, um...hi there! :: She cast a glance over at her friends. :: They won’t mind...they’re drunk. 

::Vance looked across at them and smiled with amusement. He could have responded honestly and let her know that he was on his way there, too, but decided against it. He needed to make a good impression, after all.::

Sheridan: They look like they’re having a good time, though, eh? 

:: She nodded slightly and retrieved one of the horga’hns from one of her drunken companions and led him off the dance floor away from the speakers.The ladies around them just continued dancing to the music, not noticing the gal’s absence.  ::

Brunette: Carrie. Nice to meet you, Vance.

::Vance noticed that she’d picked up the symbol, which was a good sign. Now that they could actually talk without having to shout, it seemed like a good idea to hit her with the punchline.::

Sheridan: Good to meet you too. Hey, I actually have a friend with me tonight… he’s the guy at the bar over there in the black jacket. ::He pointed him out; it looked like Cadfael had lost track of where they were for a second:: I think he would like to buy you a drink, if you’re interested?

:: He didn’t have one of the symbols, yet mentioned a friend. She followed his finger to the bar to get a glimpse of the friend, and raised a brow curiously. ::

Carrie: Is he hotter without the jacket?

::That was certainly an encouraging question. Vance shrugged theatrically.::

Sheridan: Only way for you to find out is to come meet him. If you ask nicely, I’m sure he’d be prepared to take it off.

Carrie: :: giggled slightly. :: Introduce me, then. I’m interested in cute guys who favor black.

::Pretty happy that things were working out this time, Vance ushered Carrie over in Cadfael’s direction.::

Sheridan: Right this way! Let’s go make his night!

:: The young lady followed him, eyes locked on that black jacket. She had a thing for guys in leather. Her current boy, if he was still around, had stood her up. Or so she believed. Seemed like a great excuse to ditch him and meet a new one.  ::

Carrie: So who is this hot friend of yours, Vance?

Sheridan: His name’s Cadfael. He’s an engineer. Good with his hands.

::He smirked at the cheesy line. Hopefully she would buy into it.::

:: She took a few more steps toward Cadfael when she felt someone tapped on her shoulder. At that moment, she turned around quickly and realized her date who she thought had stood her up was right behind her. ::

Carrie: Paul. Hey. Um… :: She paused and looked to Vance. :: This is my new pal Vance. Vance, this is Paul.

::Vance had to assume that Paul was another friend of hers… or possibly more, judging by the way he was looking at her and the way she was reacting to him.::

Sheridan: Oh, uh… hey Paul! I was just asking Carrie here what the meaning behind these wooden things is… 

Paul: The horga’hn? :: His eyes narrowed slightly, with a combination of anger and possible rage visible in them. :: You aren’t makin’ out with my girl, are ya?

Sheridan: No! No, no! ::He held up his hands.:: Turns out it was a whole lot more embarrassing than I thought it would be, otherwise I wouldn’t have asked. Uh, could I get mine back, please, Carrie?

::He figured that maybe she was going to need a cover story for the fact she was carrying one around so, even though she hadn’t quite turned out to have the strongest of morals, he decided to do her a favour. He reached across and grabbed hold of the one she was carrying.::

Carrie: Uh...sure… :: She handed the talisman to Vance and took Paul’s hand. :: Sorry, Vince. Maybe I can meet him in a few days? I’m kind of booked for the next two.

::The Canadian winced as Carrie got his name wrong on top of everything else.::

Sheridan: Sure, no big deal. I’ll tell him. ::He mustered a big, fake smile.:: I’ll leave you and Paul to it.

Paul: Thanks. C’mon, darlin’. We’re going to have a little celebration. :: He took her hand and led her away. Carrie followed in silence, giving a wink to Vance on the way out the door. ::

::Sighing, and slipping his hands into his pockets, Vance plodded over to report back empty-handed to Cadfael once again.::

:: It took the engineer a few moments to recognize the figure of Vance walking back toward him, though empty-handed once again. With a raised eyebrow, he took another sip of his drink. ::

Peters:  What happened, man? Somethin’ go wrong?

Sheridan: No, see, this time you actually scored. Except the girl you scored with already had a date, who turned up right as she was walking over. She did say that she might be interested in meeting you in a few days, but I don’t think she quite meets the criteria for someone you’d really want to be seeing. Unless you’re happy with her bringing “Paul” along.

:: The way he said the name caused Cadfael to wince unhappily. The effects of the drink were starting to take their grip, and he managed a faint nod. :: 

Peters: I track, man. Let’s blow this popsicle stand and find a new dive. Maybe one with better scores.

Sheridan: Yeah, you know what? Maybe we should try Keal’s pub. That looks a little bit more classy. I get the feeling we’re not going to get much luck in this place.

::There was that, and there was the fact that he was sure that if he stood in the same place for too long, he’d have to leave his sneakers behind and walk out barefoot. He could hear the schluking noise the soles of his shoes were making when they unstuck themselves from the floor, even over the music.::

:: Kael’s pub. Of course, why he didn’t think of that before, he had no idea. Maybe his alcohol-fuzzed brain was a bit too addled for this. Which is why Cadfael had a wingman: to think of all the places he didn’t think of. ::

Peters: Yeah. Let’s go.

Lieutenant JG Cadfael Peters
Starbase 118 Ops


PNPC Lieutenant Vance Sheridan
Starbase 118 Ops
As Simmed By: Lt. Cmdr Chen

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