#✮⋆˙ imogen temult. ━━ ( threads )

[imogens-temult]

CRITICAL ROLE: CAMPAIGN 3 Episode 6: Growing Bonds and Teasing Threads

[sparring-spirals]

Every time, every time Fearne/Laudna/Imogen introduce people to Pretty and are reminded, in quick succession:

- Pretty really IS that delightful, and there's a reason they collectively agreed to date him (beyond the panic distraction)

- They did in fact, collectively date Pretty and have to explain that to people.

- They are, collectively, no longer dating Pretty and have to explain that, because hes delightful and it was amicable!

- They are no longer dating because he broke up with them.

- By the time they get to this point of the explanation, its always consistently awkward despite there being absolutely zero bad blood anywhere.

- It's only awkward for Fearne, Imogen, and Laudna.

- They are surprised by this.

- Despite this, they will always come back and see Pretty the next time they are in the city and enthusiastically introduce any new friends to him.

- If only there was a way to avoid this awkwardness!

- Anyway this is our friend Pretty!!! Hes great. Oh he's our ex (collectively). Yes he broke up with us not the other way around-

[caeslxys]

Something I think is extremely interesting thematically when it comes to connecting what Downfall and the ideas it tackled to the overarching narrative of campaign three is that the things Downfall made a point to showcase of Aeor—Cassida, Hallis, the visual of an aeormaton proposing to her partner, the specific and intentional decision to shed light on a far from insignificant amount of the population being civilians or refugees—is that it plays in perfect parallel across from what is happening (and, really, has been happening) to the ruidusborn on Exandria in present.

Bear with me for a moment. Aeor is ultimately a city that was collectively punished for the decisions of its leadership. We could (and, judging by the amount of discourse around this particular topic already, probably will) argue about what the Gods’ motivation for all of this was—whether it be that they could not, in the end, bear to kill their siblings or that they were terrified at the prospect of mortality—for me it is a very healthy dose of both—but for this I am much more interested in the latter. They were scared. That, really, is the driving force behind both this arc and their role in c3 as a whole.

Why I point this out is: It is far more interesting to me, especially as we go back to Bells Hells this week, to dissect the Gods and their decisions not purely on sympathetic motivation alone but as beings in the highest seat of power in the highest social class in Exandria.

So, having established that the Gods (in relation to mortals) are more a higher social class than anything we could compare to our real life understanding of divinity and that Aeor was eviscerated largely because of their fear—what is the difference between those innocents in Aeor caught in the trappings of their autocratic government leadership and a divine war on the ground, and those of the ruidusborn being manipulated both by Ludinus and by the very thing that inspired such visceral fear in the Gods to start with. I would argue very little.

I think of Cassida, doing what she genuinely thought was right and good and would save people, her son, and the object of her worship—and how that did not matter enough to any of them to spare her because of the fear they held at the very concept of mortality. I think of Liliana and Imogen, one of which we know begged for the gods to help her or send her a sign for years on years, and how every single one of their largest struggles could have been avoided had the gods loved them, their supposed children, as much as they feared what they could be. I think of how the thing that did save Imogen, in the end, was a woman who herself existed in direct defiance of the gods will. I think of that young boy, sixteen years old, that Laudna exalted on Ruidus.

I think it’s completely fair to judge Aeor’s overall society as deeply corrupt—it was!—but its leadership and police force are not a reflection of every one of its citizens. Similarly, it is fair to judge the Ruby Vanguard as corrupt—it is!—but its multiple heads of leadership and even the god-eater further are not a reflection of every one of its members.

Notably, and what I think the Hells will latch onto, this did not matter to the Gods. It did not matter that Cassida was trying to help. She was still too much of a risk. Will it matter, what Imogen does? Will it matter, if that young boy is in the blast radius when they decide to take no further chances?

I’ve seen a lot of people say that the Hells will side with the gods and I don’t think I agree. Especially as Imogen has been scolded and villainized over and over for daring to try and save her mother—who herself has been seen by some as an irredeemable evil in spite of her drive being the exact same—her family—but when it’s the Gods it’s justified? When it’s the Gods, it’s sympathetic? Too sympathetic to criticize further than “they’re family”?

I obviously do not think the Gods should die or be eaten or what have you, and I certainly don’t agree with Ludinus (though I find him much more compelling than just a variation of hubris wizard), but when talking about the Gods in Aeor and in present it isn’t really at all about their motivation or their family. It can’t be. Too many people, including our active protagonists, lives have been effected for it to be as cut and dry as “they’re family”. These are your children. They are your family, too.

[jadequarze]

Imogen doodles ❤️

[staticrevelations]

unfortunately i don't know how to be normal about laudna confessing that she thinks she's a bad person and a few days later imogen calling her Saint Laudna

[pocketgalaxies]

laudna imogen connected threads of fate ;~; ;~; ;~;

[lightningtitties]

the horrors persist (bell’s hells hiatus) but so does imogen temult’s unhinged gay behaviour (laudna’s red thread in the imogen dice set)

[davestriderwithabowtie]

Today's thought: imodna and ghost quartet parallels. The prophetic dreams of Imogen and the inevitability of the storm. Young Laudna, betrayed and used like the soldier, a stolen starchild.

[andi-o-geyser]

i just 😔 i can’t tell you what’s going on it’s just 😣 too painful imogen you have to run! 😖run owo and never look back just trust me, a woman you barely know, and run far from here! 😫 run far from this place where you know for a FACT i actually am, because if you come here it’s too dangerous and ludinas, the man i’m working with, will hurt you😩and i would never want that for you baby girl😢i just want you safe and happy, ☺️i’m doing this for YOU🥺i’m so scared about what will happen😥 but don’t worry, i need him as much as he needs me 🫡 what does that mean? do i think he’s wrong? no, i actually agree with him. we need to kill the gods, imogen ☹️ why won’t you understand?😩 join me, but also run, your mama will take care of everything 🥺 all of this is out of my control, 🤕i’m not responsible for this, but also i’m one of the three leading people in the doomsday cult but ignore that 😣 i’m just trying to do the right thing!😊 i’ve never done anything wrong ever why don’t you believe me after seeing all the hurt 😕and pain 🙁and death ☹️my actions have caused in addition to me being somebody who was meant to be your mother🥰 but instead abandoned you and now uses you as more of an excuse for my bad behaviour than a daughter i actually care about because if i was any mother at all i would never have done what i’m doing when seeing that it’s directly endangering you, 😖but it’s okay because i drank the kool aid and imogen darlin 😚you’re so beautiful baby, 🤭you’ve grown so much, ☺️you’re so powerful, 🥹but run from that cause we need to release a god eating entity! 😤i HAVE to do this🥺

[wyrdhearth]

@dreadna : [ blood ] sender notices that receiver is bleeding ➵ imogen temult.

❝ oh, laudna, it's nothin'... ❞ imogen trailed off, once she'd noticed laudna's gaze on her arm. the fabric of her gauzy blue dress had ripped and bloomed with a vibrant spread of red. she barely noticed the sting of her wound; her eyes were too dark, too busy worriedly surveying laudna for her own injuries. it was night time still and otohan's assassins could still be out there –– they'd all but fought to the death, and bell's hells were worse the wear for it.

stepping over a mangled and necroding body, imogen set her fingers upon laudna's arm. ❝ forget me –– are you alright? ❞ concern shone plainly on her face, imogen's face pinched tight with that damning clench between her ribs. this was the reason her father had turned her away, the reason she'd kept the world at arms' length for so long –– love, which left her breathless and aching. but she'd bear it all, bleeding and everything, for laudna. ❝ I thought I saw... for a second, I thought... you looked like her... ❞

NON - VERBAL ANGST : accepting.

[sparring-spirals]

imogen fumbling shit is just eternally good fodder for memes, alright. and its at least partly BECAUSE of how powerful she is. someone tripping while using a nerf gun? funny. someone dramatically hoisting up an outfit matchin heavy death laser gun and then immediately tripping and landing on their face? phenom. sometimes she goes "GROVEL" and the enemies grovel and we all go "oooooh" and "aaaahhh" and sometimes she just gets fully ignored and gets so huffy and petulant and ineffectually burns a cantrip just to be petty about it. sometimes she smites her enemies into dust with one move and renders a tree in half after threatening and other times she fucking. falls down a flight of stairs and accidentally sets everything on fire. fires a gun at her own team. loses all her hair. turns blue. etc.

Imogen lifts a humongous sand squid into the sky with her mind powers. Imogen is also falling out of a sky ship and landing on the desert sand far below and just. lying there. while her friend plays the flute in the background. epic hot failgirls NEED the HEIGHT to FAIL FROM. u gotta swing and miss sometimes!!! AND you gotta be REAL petty about it when u miss!!!! fucking fantastic.

[bloodymyhands]

.

[ludinusdaleth]

thinking a lot about how the vast majority of the people who are central pillars to what has shaped imogen - laudna, liliana, ludinus, even orym - are people who, by justifying themselves saying they are saving others (saving her), have given in to chasing power and throwing away a chance for a life of peace (often with her), when she has had to be insurmountably selfless and not give in to the calling in her soul, to prop most of them up, to give them chances.

laudna gives in to delilah to save the world, to save imogen, not realizing shes throwing away being herself with imogen, living together in a cottage; on the flip side, liliana is doing all of this to live on that temult ranch again with her daughter & husband, not realizing she has pushed her daughter away and to become a vessel is something she cannot walk away from. ludinus thinks hes saving the next generation, saving liliana's kin, not realizing he has slaughtered futures like the gods he hates, and is the reason imogen has had to become a soldier like her mother, dressed like him, like an archmage of war. orym takes a fae pact with flowers in his veins and has become almost entirely a vessel for stopping ludinus, struggling with the burden of taking down imogen if she steps out of line, not realizing she respects him like no other and has been put in a position where she cannot give in in large part because he as the other "leader" of the bells has.

she has to pull laudna back from the edge and then listen to liliana say she has to pull ludinus back from his. she has to stop orym's fury at liliana when she has her own heartbreak at own mother, and she is the first to follow ludinus to bear empathy to him when he is the reason her mother & friends & partner are ripping at their seams. she watches fearne & ashton fit into power with their titan shards, she watches folk accept chetneys lycanthropy, she watches everyone she loves or hates struggle with power and the grief & desperation that led them to it-

and she cannot give in.

she cannot give in. she has to be the last sane one left.

how long can she be the most selfless person alive as everyone near her is ready to explode, and all she wants is a shred of kindness from the universe?

is this the curse of the moon of ill omen? or is it the threads of fate around her that she has chosen to love or fight or try to forgive, choking her alive?

[fearnesbells]

favorite details of the witches’ new outfits!!!

IMOGEN’S BRAAAAAAID. AN ECHO OF HER MOTHER, MOTHERFUCKERS… go look at @leafspiritz’s post on this subject. OHHH IMOGEN TEMULT YOU AND YOUR MOTHER MAKE ME INSANE.

FEARNE. IS. WEARING. THE. WITCH. BRACELET. THE RED THREAD. MMMM YEAH. INTERWOVEN WITH THE FLOWERS. THAT’S MY GAL. ALSO HER DEER NOSE!! YIPPEE WAHOO!! I AM IN LOVE WITH FEY FEARNE!!

forgive the fact that this is two pixels. the delilah necklace. Whuh Oh. reminds me of @distant--shadow’s art. Filled With Fear.

[xombigirl]

New Merch Monday

First up we have the Orym of the Air Ashari Dice Set! The sharp-edged set is translucent with white flowers inside, light green numbering, and an icon of a crescent moon on the 20-side of the d20 die.

Next we have the Imogen Temult Dice Set! The sharp-edged, purple set features specs of glitter with red knotted thread inside, metallic gold numbering, and a lightning bolt icon on the 20-side of the d20 die.

Next we have an Ashton/CR Patch Set. This set of 8 iron-on embroidered patches of symbols and icons related to both Critical Role and Ashton Greymoore.

Finally we have the Ashton Greymoore Jacket! The black denim jacket features distressed shoulder seams to echo Ashton's trademark vest, a red and black flannel panel across the top of the front and back, with jersey knit for both the sleeves and full hood.

[starchildghost]

every word I say is kindling (but the smoke clears when you're around) - a Laudna/Imogen au, chapter 3/3: may your peace walk on with you for a while. also on ao3.

/

It takes time - longer than you had thought, so much so that you grow a bit fearful, a decidedly mortal emotion you had thought deadened inside of you - for either of them to notice.

It’s Laudna, of course, who does first. Her threads are all blue and the once-black of Delilah that chokes her; red is a color she hasn’t associated with since the last of it bled out of Matilda’s hands as she wrenched herself from the Sun Tree. It’s natural that she’s startled by the wave of red that hits her - red tether, red moon, red fury, red end. She’s used to only two voices in her head (three, if you count her ratbird) - she startles at the new, overwhelming one.

Startles, and feels revulsion creep in. You have put so much on the woman’s shoulders; she grows tired of it. Tired of fate.

Laudna, still biding her time on her airship, does not react to the affront on her consciousness; she waits for whatever lies on the other side to make its move.

/ 

Imogen’s dwellings within her mother’s domain aren’t humble by any means; she is a Temult, their savior, and her abode must reflect that. The Ruby Vanguard, however, dealing in secrets and keeping themselves from drawing too much attention, doesn’t allow for too much luxury. Imogen did have herself a rare luxury amongst them: a mirror in her private chambers, an object usually reserved for group areas. Mirrors are fragile and difficult to obtain, so far from bustling markets and the prying eyes of the commonfolk - it’s only because she’s a Temult that she’s been allowed one of her own.

Imogen’s attitude towards it shifted as she did - her purple sparks were beautiful - her itching skin that cracked apart with that same pulsing power was hideous - the hair that damns her, marks her as a Temult, makes her look so much like Liliana is horrific, and so is the mirror.

On this occasion, however, the mirror is a curiosity. Imogen rises for her morning tasks and nearly misses it - has no reason to linger on the mirror and so she doesn’t, until something catches the corner of her eye.

A portion of the mirror is much darker than any part of her own room is - it’s not a reflection at all, but a look at something.

At someone.

A woman sits curled up amongst some crates, using magic to propel a tiny husk of a rat (with a bird’s skull) along in front of her. She is speaking - or perhaps singing? - to herself, to the corpse, Imogen can’t hear. The scene is dark, and the woman and her magic are too, other than her deathly pale skin. “Hello?” Imogen asks aloud, stretching her hand towards the mirror before she can think of anything more logical to do.

The woman looks up, alarmed, and- the connection cuts out, leaving Imogen’s hand to touch its own reflection instead.

But Imogen Temult has more than one way to communicate. Who are you? She thinks, her eyes boring holes into the mirror, seeking the woman she’s sure she didn’t invent.

There is no response, and the only thoughts for Imogen to read are the buzzing drivel from the Ruby Vanguard.

The days pass like this, at first - a reflection of a woman she can’t reach in the mirror - a dead rat with a bird’s skull dancing in the reflection of a puddle - a song in a woman’s voice whose melody shakes her soul but whose words she can’t quite make out.

For the first time in many years, Imogen Temult feels excitement. She tells no one - she has always been told she’s been destined for important things and that others won’t understand, and she’s decided that “others” includes the Ruby Vanguard as well as the commonfolk. Liliana, well, Liliana just seems glad that Imogen returned back to the encampment, and largely leaves her alone to chase wisps of a woman who might not exist.

If it’s her psyche breaking, well, Imogen’s just glad it’s happening in a way that can make her happy.

For her part, the woman doesn’t seem surprised to see her after that first morning. Imogen doesn’t see her smile often, unless the rat is at the forefront of her attention, but her expression when she’s alone seems to always be calculating, judging. Imogen’s certain that the woman is sizing her up - which must mean their connection goes both ways.

The Ruby Vanguard does not have an extensive library, and what they have does not mention you. You are, after all, the opposite of what they strive for. Imogen devours every book, every manuscript, every scrap of information she can get her hands on (or her mind into), but nothing conclusively leads her towards what this connection might actually be.

It matters not; she knows she hasn’t reached a dead end, because she sees the woman more and more frequently, a ghost in her vision as your tether truly takes root. It’s so taut neither can move in a way that matters without the other feeling it, and Imogen, so used to tuning others out, is extremely aware of the other woman’s presence.

Where she showed to Laudna as a wall of red, red, red, Laudna’s presence in Imogen’s mind is much softer; she is a symphony without words, a gentle and soothing lullaby against the buzzing and droning that other people’s minds fill Imogen up with.

Imogen reaches her mind out to that music constantly, but has yet to receive any response.

Until, that is, Laudna softens. It isn’t intentional on the warlock’s nor her patron’s end; rather, the two are caught - literally - sleeping. It’s unclear to Laudna and to yourself, really, just how entwined Delilah’s consciousness is with hers - perhaps Delilah knew Imogen was coming and allowed her to see, or Laudna’s exhaustion became her patron’s and they were equally powerless in the face of this new bond.

Imogen began her day as had become customary to her - she reached her mind along the tether, aching to see the woman she’s decided means her destiny is taking hold - and, to her surprise, her whole world jolts into that cramped, dark storage space she’d seen that first day.

The woman is not alone.

It’s not the dead ratbird, who rests on her lap, clearly drifted from her grasp as she fell asleep. No - Imogen sees a shadow on the woman that she hasn’t been able to before.

The woman leans against a dark, wooden wall, and by all rights there shouldn’t be a shadow at all - it’s not bright enough where she is. Nonetheless, a much bigger woman is outlined behind her - Imogen can’t glean too much from only a silhouette, but as her eyes frantically take in the scene (already she feels her grasp on the tether slipping, already she knows she will be forced away) they can’t help but trail to where the shadow’s hands seem to rest - dark fingers compressing around the woman’s throat even as she begins to shake out of her slumber.

“Hello,” she rasps, meeting Imogen’s gaze with a crooked smile, seemingly amused at what she sees (Imogen can only imagine what face she must be making - any attempt to fix her expression proves futile, however: a messiah is not trained in how to school her expression) as she just tips into alertness. The storage space is already fading around Imogen, dark wood and crates giving way to sunlight streaming through a window, but Imogen can just make out the woman’s next words- “I think we’re each other’s fates.”

/ 

Things spiral from there, just as you hoped they would. Imogen has begun to realize that you have taken the thread of her fate in your hands and twisted it from her - you have wrenched what Liliana had created for her and twisted, twisted, twisted, reshaped it into something else.

It’s little things, adding up to make a clear picture in Imogen’s mind. A member of the Ruby Vanguard reaches out to stop her, thoughtlessly, forgetting those whom she touches burn - and when their hand reaches her shoulder they remember to flinch away but not before making the briefest of contact - it should have run them through, would have done so just a week before, but instead it’s the briefest zap. Imogen hears the sound, continues pushing through to her mother. It’s the buzzing of the thoughts of the Ruby Vanguard - she pushes them away, sometimes physically pushes them away, gives herself space; finds she can’t compel them anymore, her feelings to them merely a whispered suggestion now.

The Vanguard accept this with reverence; their messiah is settling in, affirming herself to their purpose. She isn’t the child they had grown to fear; no, she returns their love, look at how she’s begun to care for them.

Imogen thinks her spark has begun to dim, and she knows just who to blame.

 /

In the end, Imogen Temult and Laudna meet just the once. Imogen stands at the edge of her world, looking at the mountain that makes up her horizon, and she feels the approach of that symphony that’s been drowning out her powers since the other woman opened up to their connection.

She should be seething, she thinks. She should muster so much of the storm that the woman will fry where she stands. The world of the Ruby Vanguard should be marked by two graves struck by lightning; she, their messiah, should facilitate it.

Instead, she stands in the middle of the destruction she had wrought not too long ago, a circle of crisp, dead plants, in a field full of flowers blowing in a breeze, and she watches the approach of the woman whose shadow eclipses more of the world than it has any right to.

“It’s you,” Imogen can’t speak above a whisper, finds herself choked up by the woman’s presence - afraid of what it means. Imogen had spent years crippling anyone who approached, spent years crippled herself by their presence - this woman brings only music with her. There’s no headache on either side, no words to drown out.

“It is.” Laudna agrees. She isn’t afraid. She smiles at Imogen, and there are more teeth in that smile than Imogen has ever seen before. Laudna ghosts her hand over Imogen’s cheekbone; there is no electricity to stop her. Imogen has never had someone so close to her, and her breath catches.

Imogen wishes she could immolate her on the spot; she knows she could not draw the power to do so even if she wished to. Laudna’s eyes twinkle.

“Why did you do this?” Imogen asks even as she leans into the other woman’s touch. “Why are you interrupting my destiny?”

“Destiny?” She echoes, with a laugh. “Sweet girl, it was no more your destiny to bring about the apocalypse than it is mine to be the hero. People should be kinder than the gods that eat them. We are both vessels for people much worse than us. The difference,” she angles her face down towards Imogen’s, whispers has if telling her a secret, “is that I’ve come to the conclusion I can empty you of yours.”

Imogen tenses and reaches for Laudna’s chest, bunches the fabric of her dress in her fists, unsure what she even intends to do. Laudna’s hands close around her wrists. “Is that such a bad thing?” Laudna rasps, her whisper barely coming out around her broken vocal chords, head tilted toward Imogen but cocked on the angle that was the end of Matilda. “Why should the godeater’s outcomes for you be natural, and the path you forge on your own obscene?” Her grip tightens, and Imogen wills her power forward, taking the effort to muster up what was once unavoidable for her, sparks flying through her cracked skin into the other woman. Laudna continues speaking as if she doesn’t feel a thing, ranting at her patron, at Imogen’s, at you - “Do you intend to let them have every part of you, Imogen Temult? To take all that was good and all that was rotten and every ounce of potential in you and eat you up? To let them keep whispering to you that you’re right on the verge of realizing something, gaining something real and true, walking on a path that is not yours and that you did not choose, a baited fucking lure to a godsdamned noose-” she releases Imogen’s wrists, turns away from the woman, looks towards the heavens, screams to Delilah, to you, to Predathos, any who may hear - “doesn’t that make you ashamed? To scavenge off our lives, when they’re all we have?”

Her chest heaves with the effort of shouting, and she slowly turns towards Imogen, who had reached for her once more. Imogen’s fingers, still glowing with the pulsing power that marked her as a savior, lightly skim over the dead woman’s jaw. Imogen Temult, who had long since thought she would never be able to be close to another human being, leans into the woman whom she cannot shock, and before she can stop to think, she kisses her.

Laudna is not fast to react, but when she does, it is with need, with hunger that has defined her existence. She deepens the kiss, nibbles at Imogen’s bottom lip. They both feel a click, a sense of belonging that they’d wanted their whole lives, and then - it ends.

They stand together, Imogen’s head against Laudna’s still chest, taking in the flowers and the breeze, separate from either of their worlds, on the cusp of something new, until Imogen, a savior who knows she can no longer do any saving, a messiah who was not raised to know patience, has to ask: “Why are you here? Really, why are you here?”

Laudna doesn’t move, doesn’t turn her gaze to the other woman. “I’m going to kill your mother and burn this fucking cult to the ground.”

“Why?”

“Because the woman in my head wants to use their power to her own ends, and I cannot allow that. As long as they live, she will use me to reach for them, for the power they’ve amassed here, and it is my lot in my unlife to keep her with me and stop her from entering your world. I do what I must.” Laudna states it all, matter-of-fact, having thought about it for as long as she’s known they existed.

“If she… uses you to reach for it, how are you stopping her now?”

Laudna finally looks at Imogen, her mouth opening into a crooked smile made more crooked by the bend in her neck. “She thinks she’s all-powerful, but I absorb power for the both of us, not just for her. I am not her dog eating table scraps. I have my tricks, and when Delilah awakes again, I’ll simply tell her there was infighting in the cult, and Liliana Temult and their little moon beacon didn’t survive the fight.” There’s mirth dancing in her eyes.

Imogen absorbs this all, thinks of the broken people who come to her mother out of desperation, not out of desire for the red end. Knows that she no longer possesses the power to unleash the storm on the world even if she had ever wanted to - feels Laudna’s thoughts but cannot read them. “Will you - will you let them run, if they want to?”

“Oh, most of them will run, I expect. I won’t stop them. Unless you want me to?” For the first time, Imogen’s opinion seems to matter to her.

“No, I… no, let them go, if you can.”

Laudna nods, begins to walk towards the encampment, leaving Imogen behind in the ring of dead plants. “Wait!” Laudna stops, turns towards Imogen. “What will I do?”

A small, genuine smile from the dead woman. “Your path will be your own.”

“Will I ever see you again?”

Laudna stills, looks towards the sky and squints before locking eyes with Imogen. “Sweet girl. There is a whole world. Pray that you don’t.” She turns, again, to walk towards the death and blood you have always intended for her, and then stops, and smiles again at Imogen. “May your peace find you on a lonely road, Imogen Temult.”

Laudna makes her way towards the encampment of the Ruby Vanguard. She does not turn back. Imogen looks toward the mountain - the edge of her world so long as she has lived, and she begins to walk.