Shadowstrike
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Post by Shadowstrike on Jan 31, 2015 20:35:22 GMT
OOC: Open to anyone.
The Antarctic ice sheet is one of the two polar ice caps of the Earth. It covers about 98% of the Antarctic continent and is the largest single mass of ice on Earth. It covers an area of almost 14 million square km. The area itself is so remote that very few ever travel here, if one was looking to blend in as a vehicle then this was an unlikely place to see them. However if someone was trying to hide it was one of the best locations on earth as the vast plains of snow consumed all in a constant barrage of snow storms.
Stuck in the storm Shadow-Strike was a mere black and red spec across the white landscape as the dodge challenger accelerated, large snow tyres digging in for traction as he slipped and slided barely keeping control as the mech seemed to be going nowhere. Although as he continued onward it became obvious their was some sort of destination in mind as Shadow-Strike passed through a valley formed from the meeting point of two mountains. Then he continued onwards as the mech had ignored activating his long range signal cloaking, after all there was no reason for an Autobot to check here... was there?
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Plexo
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Post by Plexo on Feb 1, 2015 0:09:29 GMT
The icy storm raged on, the whistling sound of the wind carrying and scattering snow hearable by those both on land and in the air. While many would indeed agree that Shadow-Strike was alone, and that no mech would be wandering in such a place, they would be wrong.
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It felt as if raw power was being given to him, and as if a small, empty space within him started to fill up. Yet it did not over flow. It was more of a feeling which Plexo was comforted in, as he too journeyed through the ice. He had been here to quench the simple desire for some alone time, but he had been able to see with his visor, something dark and long try to drive through the storm, some twenty yards from his location. Te storm was thick, but Plexo could see right through it with his visor, and since he himself was able to harbor the coldness within, if Plexo focused long enough t felt like the ice was a mere extension of his will. Not that he could control the ice in such an area completely, but he was at home here.
Plexo arose from his sitting position, in so transforming into his Mazda RX-7 alternate mode, and since the ice was the element he specialized in, it was with ear that he navigated. His pure white paint job made it somewhat easier to have camouflage, his golden lining on some of his parts unseeable thanks to the storm. Plexo slowly tracked behind the car, who was clearly not supped to be here. Any human would never drive their precious sports vehicle through a place as hostile as this, so Plexo calculated it was a Cybertronian, not bothering to confirm the suspicion by paying attention to his own scanners. Plexo was abut thirty feet behind Shadow-Strike when he ceased gaining on the mech, deciding that he could simply follow the Cybertronian from here until he noticed him.
If Plexo would have truly wanted to sneak up on the sports car though, he would have used completely different methods. It was just the fact that Plexo found it against some of his traditions to approach someone directly. Especially if he didn't know if this Cybertronian was a friend or foe. Plexo himself was mostly not an Autobot. Until a certain mistress returned, he seldom would visit the Autobot base.
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Shadowstrike
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Roleplayer V
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Post by Shadowstrike on Feb 1, 2015 11:08:00 GMT
Paying attention to his own scanners Shadow-Strike continued on track, almost dragging out the cruise as he continued through the snow and ice. His tyres constantly adjusting to the terrain as his engine continued to purr without any concern of who could hear as he accelerated again. The engine's purrs turning into mighty roars as Shadow-Strike launched forward using the slight inclines and declines in the terrain to hurl him into the air. As the unusual form of movement lead to him crashing into the ice on multiple occasions integrated systems ensured his landing was softened, it was a quicker method than simply driving at a careful speed.
Temperatures such as this didn't affect Shadow-Strike too much as he showed no signs of stopping, his internal layers providing protection from temperatures of both extremes. Slowing down ever so slightly in the distance a small ice cave began to come into sight. If Shadow-Strike had any real sense of direction then it would appear he was almost at his destination.
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Plexo
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Post by Plexo on Feb 2, 2015 1:31:46 GMT
Plexo followed him with ease. Though his alternate mode would indicate otherwise, Plexo was quite familiar with this land, and wuite skilled when it came to navigating in the snow. However, Plexo did take the smoother, less noisy routes as he pursued the mech from a distance, never getting too close. Plexo believed that this Cybetronian could be here on a mission of some kind. Any Cybertronian would do practically anything to get an artifact, or anything that gave them an upper servo in the war. It irritated Plexo sometimes, and at other times, he just found the precious object, and destroyed it before anyone could get it. It was better off that way.
The black and red car kept driving for the cave which was in the distance, so Plexo assumed after some extra calculation that the Cybertronian was headed for the spot. Perhaps it was a rendezvous point for his other brothers, or the location of something precious. Either way, Plex would observe, and depending on how things turned out, he would act.
Plexo drove through the raging ice storm with ease, as he drove it was as if the ice provided a path for him, like an older brother stepping aside for a younger brother to walk on. Plexo never grinned at the feeling, even though it did make him feel more powerful, it was not a feeling of comfort. Ice was an element that kept it's users isolated and cut off, no warm welcomes. Plexo's own temperatures were effected by the ice, and he actually grew colder. Yet it would be like someone stepping into a hot bath, the feeling was not at all bad, and he was not journeying in a fatal place for him. Plexo effortlessly kept up with the mech, waiting for him to arrive in the tunnel. Plexo kept a shape eye on his own devices, the white warrior waiting for the black and red car to transform, and commence its operation.
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Shadowstrike
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Post by Shadowstrike on Feb 2, 2015 15:09:34 GMT
Reaching the destination Shadow-Strike's breaks activated as all four tyres came to an unsteady stop after a slight moment of screeching, then there was silence as the ice cold cave showed no signs of life the car just waited there. Then their was a moment of movement as Shadow-Strike began to transform multiple parts of his frame twisting and turning into more recognisable human parts till he was completely in his robot mode. Hunched over with a single fist planted in the sheet of ice below Shadow-Strike began to rise up onto both pede's giving out a slight sigh.
Raising his helm slightly Shadow-Strike looked towards the upper reaches of the cavern impressed by the grand scale of what was supposedly was a natural structure. Lowering his helm as he returned to the task at hand Shadow-Strike began to pace deeper into the cavern, his pede's gripping for support as the ground began to incline downwards. Their was a something unusual about the place as he allowed his frame to begin sliding down the path at a much quicker although arguably less safe pace than if he had cautiously walked down, sliding down what was now a steep ramp of sorts Shadow-Strike began to adjust himself.
He could see down below where the ramp stopped inclining and flattened out as he slammed the back of his pede's firmly into the ground to slow his descent. Allowing him to safely come to a stop just before the ground shifted as he simply stepped onto the even ground. It was a little too organised to be natural as he continued on his journey through the cavern, although their was seemingly only one path it wouldn't be hard for Plexo to lose sight of the mech. However on the path Shadow-Strike's journey suddenly came to a stop with a dead end, a huge ice wall.
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Plexo
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Post by Plexo on Feb 3, 2015 13:42:33 GMT
((Sorry for the slow responses.))
Plexo indeed was able to continue navigating with relative ease, however, upon the mech transforming and altering himself into the cave, his black and red paint job shifting out of sight as he stood up, and walked through the cavern. Plexo used a small hill as a ramp, to jump his alternate mode into the air before fluidly transforming into his own robot mode, which currently wore a hood and battered cape. Plexo had managed to creat the cloth and himself, using special materials, as to allow it to shift along with him either in robot form, or in vehicle form.
The wordless white warrior walked quietly into the cave, his optics keened behind his visor for any traps, incase the guest of the land had been playing him into a trap. Plexo saw nothing, and entered the cavern. His cape did make some flapping noises, but Plexo knew that it did not matter. Sooner or later, the black mech would have found his presence out. Plexo decided that if he was to make his appearance in the cave, and allow his cape to flap, it would only alert the mech of his entrance. Thus, Plexo could allow the mech know he was not here for stealthily forfeiting his life. Plexo had lost sight of Shadow Strike, but he had not lost track of his heat signature. while Plexo's own heat signature blended right with the ice, Shadow-Strikes radiated small amounts of heat, and Plexo could track him.
Soon enough, Plexo was behind Shadow-Strike, this time near him only by a few meters. Plexo's hood only allowed those who sought to see his masked face see the v-slit of his visor. Plexo quietly puffed more icy breath from his mouth guards venting, adding in the slightest to the cavern's already below zero temperatures. Plexo held stone still, watching and waiting for Shadow-Strike's reply. Plexo held no insignia on his chest, so he would most likely be reckoned as a neutral.
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Shadowstrike
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Post by Shadowstrike on Feb 4, 2015 17:17:45 GMT
OOC: Sorry about my late reply as well.
Tapping against the deadend ice wall Shadow-Strike gave a deep sigh as he became more aware of his surroundings, Plexo hadn't exactly sneaked up on the mech but Shadow-Strike had barely cared till now as he began to turn around. Looking towards the mech's face Shadow-Strike saw the unusual hood and the masked face as his optics began to glance over the mech's frame, their was something familiar although he couldn't exactly put his servo on it. The obvious lack of an emblem was surprising considering the war.
The mech's first assumption was the mech infront of him was neutral, of course nowadays that was a very vague faction considering the amount of mercenaries that either side employed. However it still showed their was life in the Antarctic one of the purposes of this very trip as he smirked behind the battlemask that protected him from the extreme colds.
Shadow-Strike: Shame. I expected someone less... neutral to find me.
Continuing to smirk Shadow-Strike revealed why as his frame stopped venting excess heat and his entire bodies thermal reading began to drop, right up to the point he began to merge with the cold surroundings. He'd intentionally dragged someone to this location, the lack of a long range cloak, the lack of thermal cloaking. However that was hardly the main concern as the wall behind him began to melt, the huge wall of ice entering the process of thawing as slowly droplets of water began to hit across the cold hard... steel floor.
This place was far from natural.
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Plexo
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Post by Plexo on Feb 5, 2015 1:05:06 GMT
((I understand.))
Plexo was not at all surprised at how Shadow-Strike knew he was here. Everyone was paranoid, and everyone went to the extent to make rue they were all alright. Plexo examined the melting walls around him. It wouldn't have taken long form a ship, or the surface of a base to collect this much ice in such a stormy, and cold place as this. Plexo remained stone still where he was, as if he was indeed a statue. Plexo had had the suspicion that he had been walking perhaps into a trap, so really, easily following someone had not been something he reckoned would be easy. He didn't know much about the names of the nefarious mechs or femmes from both sides, but he knew someone twisted when he saw one.
Plexo thought over Shadow-Strike's words, he had been wanting someone to follow him clearly. Perhaps someone important. Plexo was an ambassador, but mostly everyone didn't know that, or really didn't put it on their schedule to ask him what his purpose was. As Plexo stood still, wordless and motionless, at the back of his hands gears slid out of slots, and began to turn, charging some weapons of his. Plexo's weapon was very unique in it's making, and what it ran on, so the hum of it charging was low, and it sounded as if an engine was trying to rev.
Plexo just let his emotionless visor seem to look at Shadow-strike head on. If the mech had wanted someone here, and was talking in that kind of voice, being a guess could be something fatal. Plexo half expected walls to close behind him, or turrets to pop out of the ceiling after the ice melted. Plexo was not melting himself, but he was readying himself for the possibilities of combat, and anything that may be coming from behind. He keened his senses, waiting for the mech to either speak on, or give a signal to someone. Plexo never tensed, but remained statue still, his blue visor seemingly fixed on Shadow-Strike. Plexo never said a word, believing it a waste of breath to ask wat was happening when he could just see for himself.
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Shadowstrike
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Post by Shadowstrike on Feb 6, 2015 23:24:54 GMT
OOC: Last few days have been busy but I'm on holiday now Glancing over Plexo one more time Shadow-Strike flexed his wrists as the tip of both blades stuck out from his gauntlets, he was ready for combat although he had yet to initiate it. It was always safe to have some precautions as he took his optic off the mech and turned his helm back towards the metal wall. The ice now fully melted away as his servo reached out to touch the alien architecture. A slight smirk crossing his face as Shadow-Strike traced his digits across the numerous designs that where embedded within the door.
For a moment Shadow-Strike considered turning back and looking towards Plexo but a part of him was too engrossed in what he had found. His blood red optics reading the symbols that where hidden within the designs, they where cybertronian of some kind. So old that time itself barely understood them as Shadow-Strike's optics tried to recall what he knew of the language inscribed in the wall. The language was that of the first cybertronians, the language of the thirteen.
Despite the fact that the mech was greatly mesmerised by the symbols that had been lost in time Shadow-Strike cared little for his discovery. Strangely it was as if the Decepticon already expected to find what he had came across as he looked over his shoulder back towards Plexo. His ancient databanks struggling to recollect the information Shadow-Strike's optics flickered not once but multiple times as he delved into not only his memory but that of thousands of predecessors. As his optics stabilised once more becoming a solid glow the mech let a light smirk escape from his lips.
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Plexo
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Post by Plexo on Feb 7, 2015 0:12:57 GMT
Plexo had seen many sights in his travels, and many more in his training. The planet which he had been raised and had become what he was today had shown him such carvings. Plexo's master had been one of the first creations, according to what Plexo had been taught, and the being was almost as ancient as the strange symbols inscribed on the wall. Plexo just glanced at the carvings. He had seen many similar in pattern to these, and he was familiar with many forms of ancient languages..although, if he was to speak the language of the primes, it would be rudimentary. Plexo's reading of the carvings was also not that accurate, and in fact the mech would have to focus hard to read what had been chiseled into the wall. What made Plexo curious in the slightest was why the carving was here.
Earth. It was merely six-thousand years old; an extremely young planet by Cybertronian standards.
Even though Shadow-Strike allowed blades to unsheathe from his gauntlets by the tips, Plexo did not attack either. To cause destruction in a place this old would be exactly what any brute would do. Plexo had his own code for attacking, and he usually allowed his opponent to be the aggressor. Until then, his opponents would receive what everyone else did; cold and sparkless stares. Plexo finally moved to the side, the charging of his weapons stopped. They would be able to fire when necessary, until then, he would stand where he was and join Shadow-Strike in his gazing of the ancient writings.
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Shadowstrike
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Post by Shadowstrike on Feb 7, 2015 14:17:33 GMT
Turning back to the writing Shadow-Strike ran a single digit across what could only be described as a crescent moon intersected by the spearheads of a trident side on. The single digit curving across the moon as it stopped at the middle of the symbol and began to trace to the left towards the base of the trident, large sections of the symbol began to glow with the life breathing energon. It was an unusual sight to see considering how old the structure was as he took his digit off and followed the action with a single large step back.
Large walls of ice began to return as the room itself returned to the state it had been before Shadow-Strike's arrival, the ice forming as it covered up the numerous symbols on the wall. Then it was finished as Shadow-Strike nodded to Plexo then turned towards the exit, it would be wrong to fight in such a temple and by all means it was one of the most dangerous acts Shadow-Strike could have considered. Leaving quickly the mech transformed into his alternative mode and drove away into the exit above... then he was gone.
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Plexo
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Post by Plexo on Feb 7, 2015 15:31:10 GMT
Plexo watched as the walls were restored to their normal state, and then observed Shadow-Strike take his absence. No fight after all. The gears in his arms had stopped turning, and the charge would ware off depending on how long Plexo did not fire. For once in a long time, Plexo did not mind a con, seeing as how both recognized where and where not to fight. Plexo glanced at the icy wall, where a carving had been. He gave a small title of his helm at it, and then triggered one of his means of teleportation. Most had ground bridges or space bridges, but Plexo used his unique kind of teleportation ability, where he summoned a small field of a warp to envelop him from his master, mentally asking for one, or causing one depending on the circumstance. In this case, Plexo summoned the warp himself, and icy and misty tendrils surrounded him before making his form disappear completely,and after the mist dispersed, Plexo too had made his absence.
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Sinn
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Post by Sinn on Feb 13, 2015 21:55:39 GMT
Grimlock did not have the luxury of crashing into the earth as a pod; the Dinobot came out of the sky, unprotected save for his own armor, which was not saying much, as Grimlock was about as close to unkillable as Cybertronians were like to get.
Nonetheless, the heat of his descent, though not overly hazardous to most of his body, had rendered him blind for the moment, and stung unpleasantly at the crimson slit in his helm that served as a visor. The Dinobot hit the antarctic ice-sheet with a great and resounding "BOOM!", which managed to echo for quite a ways, the noise so great that it pierced the whine and moan of the blizzard-like conditions. Steam rose from a crater perhaps 160 yards across, shrouding the curled form at its center. The impact had knocked Grimlock momentarily senseless. It took him perhaps a quarter-cyle to recover, and when he had, a ringing noise rapidly fading from his head, he growled, and uncurled, and stood.
Soot stained much of his body, but the fall had not damaged him noticably beyond that. The mech was huge by any standard, towering nearly fifty feet, with collosal shoulders and limbs that suggested tremendous strength. The figure strode out of the crater, and began walking.....
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Backbeat
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Post by Backbeat on Feb 14, 2015 4:53:13 GMT
A groundbridge opens a few miles away and a green robot walks thru, the one lone robot loads his sniper rifle. Tallymark looks around the snow covered wasteland... Through the snow storm he makes out smoke in the distance. The groundbridge closes behind him.
Tallymark: Target acquired, these points are as good as scored...
He slowly walks towards the smoke, making sure to keep quite as he activates his stealth field.
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Sinn
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Post by Sinn on Feb 14, 2015 5:48:31 GMT
Grimlock had, by this time, made perhaps a half-mile of headway from his starting-point. The Dinobot had, seeing that he was at the planet's southernmost pole, set his HUD to point him northwest.....
His car-sized feet crunched against the ice, sinking several feet in with each step. Though his frame was hammered unceasingly by subzero winds and flurries of snow, little frost accumulated on his armor.
The bright-red slit of his visor was the only visual sign of his passage to anyone more than a few dozen yards off.
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Backbeat
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Post by Backbeat on Feb 14, 2015 19:19:59 GMT
The invisible Tallymark gets closer to the where the smoke had originated, he looks around and barely notices a bright red line a few miles away, thanks to his highly trained optic. Tallymark takes aim,moving the cross-hairs of the sniper sight onto the red light.
Uncloaking as he opens fire with his sniper rifle. A high powered explosive round flies towards Grimlock.
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Sinn
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Post by Sinn on Feb 14, 2015 21:40:21 GMT
With a thousand or so yards of freezing wind between the bullet and Grimlock, the projectile's path was less than precise. It performed far better than the bullet of a human sniper, mind you, and, in the end, was only off course by perhaps a foot or two.
Instead of punching into the huge gold-and-gunmetal titan's visor and muddying his vision, the bullet struck seven inches down and 16 to the right; the round slammed into the right vent of Grimlock's helm, roughly the edge of his upper jawline, if the Autobot had still had a jaw.
The round squeezed in there, warping the vent's framing and exploding inside of it, sending several small shards of metal flying and causing a sizable puff of smoke and dull orange flame to emerge from the now-damaged area of Grimlock's helm. As if to punctuate the explosion, sparks leapt from the ragged gouge, along with a final puff of smoke. The Dinobot's helm snapped to the side with the impact, and he made a dull, surprisingly quiet grunt of surprise.
Roughly at the same time the sparks had emerged, Grimlock sprung into motion, body angling towards the source of the shot, arm reaching backwards to snag a massive contraption off his back which unfolded instantly into a greatshield. Positioning the greatshield over his body to block further gunfire, the Dinobot set off in the direction of the shot at a surprisingly fast lope.
Each stride ate up perhaps 9 meters of antarctic tundra.... The dinobot was not fast by the standards of cars or jets, but in the howling whiteness of one of the coldest places on earth, the weather did not diminish what speed he had in the slightest....
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Backbeat
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Post by Backbeat on Feb 14, 2015 23:40:40 GMT
Tallymark noticed he had missed his target, proof that even his perfect aim could falter. Though he expects it will not happen again... He sees the dinobot heading right towards him...
Tallymark: Closing the distance eh? This will be easy...
He jumps back to make space between him and the dinobot, activating his cloaking field he tosses out two smoke grenades as he turns invisible
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Sinn
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Post by Sinn on Feb 15, 2015 2:43:30 GMT
In the blizzard-like conditions, throwing smoke-grenades was roughly equivelant to seasoning a bonfire with a few zippo-lighters.
Grimlock simply plowed through the smoke, going further until he was past the dense miasma, turning about.
He stood, legs spread to shoulder width, drawing a sword that matched his massive stature. The sword's firey light was a benefit and problem for both combatants; it made Grimlock's exact position literally impossible to miss, but in the blizzard, which would fail to pass through Tallymark's cloaked form, the light of the smoldering blade would give contrast to the landscape and render Tallymark more visible.
The titan stood waiting, steam billowing from his featureless faceplate, scarlet light eminating from the slit that served as his eyes, as if in response to the staggering heat of his sword.
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Backbeat
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Post by Backbeat on Feb 15, 2015 5:22:43 GMT
Tallymark notes this new development and uncloaks opening fire with his machine guns as he jumps back again
Tallymark: Your tough... BUT YOU ARE NOT BULLET PROOF!
He repeats the process again and again, using the kickback to launch himself further back, trying to put distance between him and the Dinobot
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