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Hard Clam (verse and cooking)
Removing sand
A bivalve that lives in the deep seas off the east coast of North America.
It is similar to a Japanese Clam, but its shell is uneven and streaked.
In Japan, it is called Honbinosu Clam and is likened to Venus.
Shellfish are often compared to female genitalia, so that is why it is called that.
It entered Japan mixed with ship ballast and began to live in Tokyo Bay.
It is an excellent edible shellfish, so Japanese people also eat it.
I made it "sake steamed" today.
Sake steamed hard clam (cooking)
finished
1) Remove sand in salt water with seawater concentration (35g/l) for a day and night
2) Put sesame oil, garlic, and salt in a pot, heat it, and add the clams.
3) Add 50ml each of water and sake
4) Cover and heat for 3-4 minutes
5) Add cloves
6) Place on a plate and top with chopped green onions
@Use the remaining soup to make spaghetti soup.
2024.06.28
Hard Clam(verse and cooking)
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Masterpost
#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#dunmeshi spoilers#most delicious meal in the dungeon tournament#nightmares steamed in sake#kelpie oil soap
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Thanks to everyone who volunteered their pcs as lil gunieapigs to me<3 I had a lot of fun experimenting with different coloring styles
The MS Paint Template was made by Mayuniki on Pixilart, you can find it HERE
The Player Characters from left to right: -Andy belongs to @dolbog -Ayesha belongs to @kylars-owner -Ken/Mackenzie belongs to @rootedshrew -The legendary Foxglove belongs to @getinthefuckingcarkitten -Poe belongs to @hemlocks-hidey-hole -and last but not least, Jet belongs to @uncontrolledinsomnia
I made some executive decisions when interpreting the designs: like adding accessoires, changing hairsytles a bit, interpreting facial features differently or just doing my own thing with some of the outfits. I hope thats okay haha ( I could ramble on about my thought process on a lot of these designs but I'll cut myself off) I might make a seperate post for this, but its legit kinda tragic; cause most of these drawings are cut off. I just couldnt fit the full versions into a cohesive layout.
Most tragic loss is the disappearance of the lower half of this Sweater I put on Ken, its by mingalondon and by god i want it
#dol pc#dol fanart#degrees of lewdity#original art#artists on tumblr#myart#my art#This was a lot of fun even if I kinda ran out of steam at the end there gfdgdfgdf#PLEASE dont expect the next batch to look the same if I ever do another round dgfdgdf#Even if the rendering is way rougher than what i usually do. idk if I could consistently do this output gfdgf#I have seperate versions for these too which I might post we will see#â(name) the pcâ is my john doe equivalent for pcs who dont have a title (from what i could see) for cohesions sake#Im gonna pass out now I havent slept since getting up yesterday haha
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Year of the Dragon Special (feat. Xiaolong) V.1
With love sent from the Ise Hot Springs master himself, Xiaolong makes a special guest appearance on this issue of !Ikuman! So come down to the Ise Hot Springs this year, and spend a night of passion with this dilfy dragon~! Special thanks to Juggermelon as the original character designer. You can see more of Xiaolong in his galleries and in Another Eidos of Dragon Vein R! (This is the public release of a Patreon-exclusive image. For early access, WIPs and alts, just subscribe for $2 a month~)
Posted using PostyBirb
#Xiaolong#Another Eidos#Chinese Zodiac#Year of the Dragon#dragon#eastern dragon#barazoku#beard#antlers#pecs#erection#sake#alcohol#hot spring#steam#bathing#older male
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dialogue courtesy of bobs burgers
#i wish i could do more than sketches but i always lose steam before i finish#so for the sake of posting anything at all. a sketch#doctor who#tenth doctor fanart#tenth doctor#10th doctor#donna noble#donna noble fanart#doctor who fanart#dw#david tennant#the doctordonna#doctor donna#catherine tate#fanart#art#meme drawing#drawing#sketch
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New Age AU (Error's Wacky Wild Plan)
Hi guys. So. Crazy Story. The crisis that stopped me from working on my banner art actually catapulted me into writing this drabble finally! (Also the wonderful @ancha-aus was also a life-saver and helped me hammer out a few plot points for this installment <3)
Currently my only context for this drabble is that Error is tiny, and ran away from home because Geno moved to Reaper's kingdom to make money to send back home, and Fresh spent too long away on his trip. Error was expelled from his magic academy and came home to an empty house, so he left! Now he's been on the road for about a month? Nightmare has been ruling for about 6-ish years now, almost 7.
(Hello @mutzelputz and @papiliovolens hi guys!!!)
     The town was bustling.Â
   Error had been through a lot of towns since heâd left. Big ones, small ones, ones he was convinced werenât even towns at all, just a few barns in a general closeness to one another who decided they needed to call themselves something besides the outskirts. Those people had been particularly hostile to his passing through.
   And, lately, theyâd been really weird. People staring at him when heâd walk on the streets, or pass by shops. When they saw he had money from a different kingdom (he didnât even realize heâd left his own, but he figured it meant he was on the right path) theyâd squeeze their faces like they bit a lemon and hastily take his coin. Like it was cursed, or something. They were lucky it wasnât cursed, honestly. He could probably figure out how to do that.
    This town, though, was filled so full with people that he imagined they couldnât look at him weird if they wanted to.Â
   People were riding horses, chatting in the streets, all sorts of stalls and merchants were peddling goods, and he was almost positive he could hear music lifting down the street over the general drone. He couldnât remember the last time heâd run into a place so busy. Heâd always been told to stick to the side, out of the way, out of danger.Â
   He didnât have to listen to that anymore. Though, he did skirt the crowds. The mass of people seemed all too willing to bump shoulders or elbows with each other in the early morning sun, and the last thing he wanted was to have his magic act up in a crowd. Heâd done well so far.Â
   Every booth, every merchant, every passerby seemed jubilant, ebbing and flowing. It was like some sort of party.Â
   That was, until, Error spotted it.
   A big building, something that Error recognized only vaguely.Â
   It was an amphitheatre.Â
   Geno had taken him to see one once. Or, at least, the ruin of one. It hadnât been too far from their home, and it was pretty abandoned and lonely. Plants had crawled up its walls, stones had fallen off in chunks, animals seemed to have deemed its high windows a perfect spot to build nests. It had been breathtaking, and ancient.Â
   This one? Seemed perfectly in-use.Â
   The walls were all in-tact, stones, an easy to look at grey, smooth and covered in little intricate carvings. Spells, he had to imagine, in some language he didnât know. Curtains hung over the huge arched entrances, and heavy gates seemed to be lifted, the spikes at the base loomed over the heads of every passerby.Â
   He couldnât help but marvel. Was this a restoration, or maybe it was new. Some sort of imitation. Regardless, he found that his feet carried him to one of the entrances, which stood largely empty aside from some folks who looked strikingly like guards.
   Two of them stood, long spears in-hand. They both stood stock still as Error approached, and didnât move a muscle as he passed them. They were strange, definitely different. Not at all the town guard he was familiar with.Â
   The inside of the theatre was even more impressive. Rows and rows of stands seemed to line up either side. Huge tapestry hung from the high arches past those seats, and down the runways of the bleachers, all a bright teal and dark navy blue. They seemed fancy, and much newer than the curtains which had hung in the entrance.Â
   Beyond the walkway where he stood, was a set of stairs which led down a level or so, before it leveled out into an open space. Sandy, and very flat. It seemed like there were people there, too. A much smaller crowd, but still a crowd nonetheless.Â
   Error was almost amazed heâd not been stopped by someone yet. Whatever was going on seemed important, and so far in his experience, people did not like him sticking his nose into important business.Â
   With that in mind, he decided heâd stick to the entryway for now. He leaned his bag up against the wall and watched from a position where the sun still shadowed his form. He was often grateful for his miscolored bones. It made hiding in the dark a whole lot easier.Â
   It took a bit for him to really process what he was watching in the morning light.Â
   There were four people sat on a sort of raised box toward the front of a stage. A huge stage, raised up off the sand with wood slats. They had a long-table before them, and quills and ink jars in-hand. Well, three were sitting. One was standing. But the point is, they were all watching the stage very attentively.Â
   On-stage there was⊠basically nothing. Only a simple backdrop Error had to imagine was there at all times, because it looked like it was coated in sand, even from the distance where he stood.
   A person would enter the stage, the people sat on the box would speak to them, and then there was a flare of magic. Another. Another. And then they were dismissed.Â
   It wasnât until he really bothered to think about what magic was being cast that he realized those were extremely simple spells being used. Levitate, Create Water, Mimicry. Or Flame, Gust, Light. All just three easy spells, and then they were off-stage. That was taught magic. It gave him memories of his entrance exam to his school. Heâd been way overqualified to get in, Geno taught him after allâŠ
   But, no, this didnât feel the same. There were plenty of people who seemed to stumble at spells they didnât recognize, or who couldnât muster a simple breeze. Then others who were very old and obviously skilled. Obviously they found the three spells to be childâs play. Like Error would. This was no entrance exam, so what-
   âHey, pipsqueak, what are you doing there in the dark?â A voice startled him, and it took all of his willpower to avoid jumping away from its origin.Â
   Error twisted rapidly, just in time to avoid the thrust of an elbow in his direction.Â
   There was a monster there. Three, actually. Two lizards, both bright green and tropical, and one who looked more like a dragon. The green one closer to him must have spoken, because he laughed at Errorâs flinch.Â
   âWhy are you bothering me?â Error shot back haughtily.Â
   The lizard seemed to grin at the response. Â
   âOh, so weâve got a feisty little small fry here? Thinks heâs scoping out the competition?â The dragonish one hissed, voice deep.Â
   The other green one tittered a giggle, âSo cute! I canât believe the King really decided to let just anyone try out for Royal Mage.âÂ
   OhâŠ
   The lizard before him seemed to take this silence as a weakness, and reached out quicker than Error could react. A flick to the middle of his forehead.Â
   Error winced and pulled away, back and into the arena. He grit his teeth and clutched his skull, where at the same moment the lizard jumped back and shook their hand in the air a bit. His magic had reacted poorly again, and while it was better than it used to be, it still stung like 5 wasps touching down and stinging the same point all at once.Â
   âLittle freak.â Was all the monster hissed, before he fled. His two friends moving on behind him in confusion. Approaching the line to the stage.Â
   Error stood there in the sun for a moment, rubbing at his forehead until the pain was more of a numb static.Â
   If anything, he appreciated the little run-in with those wanna-bes. Now he knew exactly what this was, and why it had felt so familiar to him.Â
   The Mage Trials.Â
   Geno had to go through them, and heâs been very thorough about his every single detail while doing it. Even though he was the best mage Error had ever known, heâd still stressed and wrote page after page of plans and spells and had placed them into a folder that felt thicker than an encyclopedia. Geno had always been the only one of them who bothered studying. Fresh couldnât go to school anymore, and Error⊠Well, Error didnât need to.Â
   Thinking about it, Geno had been very quiet about it, but Error had looked into his folder a few times. Just out of curiosity. Itâd been split into three rounds, something Geno had said was standardized. The first was a test of someoneâs basic magic skills, the second were more complex spells which the mage has practice in, and the third, the one that had given Geno the most grief, was the personal spell round. In the last one, there were no restrictions to what someone could do, so long as they had done the work themselves, and that it mostly used magic.Â
   If he was right, and he usually was, then this was the first round. Eliminating those with nothing but a hope and a prayer in their pocket before they got embarrassed before the one looking for the Mage in the first place. In this case, whoever this kingdomâs king even was.Â
   In just a few moments, Error had decided.Â
   This was how heâd prove himself.Â
   The line was already starting to get longer, and he didnât want to be here until nightfall in a queue. He dusted off his scarf, his shoes, his bag, and set off into the bright sun to secure his place in this contest. No prep. No warning. Just with his raw skill and what heâd learned so far. Nothing could possibly go wrong.Â
.
   Finally.Â
   Error felt like it had been hours in the warm sun before he was finally up next.Â
   Heâd been watching, of course. Watching as the people before him were passed or failed. It was just as heâd expected, and he couldnât help but be a bit giddy as the two green lizard whoâd bothered him earlier both failed. Though their dragonish friend had passed, it was still enough of a victory for him.
   Along with that, he noticed that the three people sat were all in robes of nobles. Something the wealthy and lofty would think to wear in a blazing hot arena all day. The one standing, though, was wearing all black. A hood was over his head, but Error thought he might be some sort of cat-monster. Very stone faced, very still. The only time Error had seen him move was seemingly to veto whatever choice the other three were making. He thought it was interesting.Â
   That didnât matter, though.Â
   Based on what heâd seen, these people wouldnât have any qualms with his magic. He was much better than half the people whoâd already been passed, and knew he could keep him calm up on the stage. Itâd be just like his entrance exam.Â
   He watched as the monster whoâd gone before him, a skeleton who was twice his height and twice as animal-ish, bowed gratefully to the people on the boxes, the evaluators, and exited. Sheâd passed fairly easily, Error thought. Though, her focus seemed elsewhere based on how shaky the hold on her last flame had been.Â
   âNext!âÂ
   The call was shrill, and Error had heard it over a hundred times already today, but this time it bounced in his ears as he lifted himself up the steps and strode onstage.Â
   If heâd thought about it, he wouldâve tried to find a place to stache his bag, but it was too late for that, and frankly he didnât trust it not to get stolen once it was out of his sight. Not with how busy the city seemed.Â
   When he was stood in the center of the stage, he looked out across the way to the evaluators. They seemed closer up here than they did when he was on the ground. Interesting.Â
   âFirst spell,â The person on the far left called, though Error could tell now that it was a voice projection spell. So they didnât strain their vocal chords, â Levitate.â
   That was simple. One of the first spells heâd been taught as a kid.Â
   His eyes skimmed briefly, there had been a few props on stage that he only noticed once he was closer that were meant to be used with this sort of spell, but Error wasnât for that. Instead, he muttered the words under his breath, outstretched a hand, and felt his magic reach out around him. Beyond the stage.Â
   There⊠There was a barrier of some sorts, pushing back against his magic, between himself and the evaluators. He furrowed his brow and urged his magic forward. He didnât have to break through it. He just. Had to- His magic felt like it was looping and wriggling like a worm through the dirt, but when it broke through on the other end, it felt so much more clear. He could feel a potent magic there, something raw and wet, like the air before a storm.Â
   That didnât matter, though. None of it did, because he was on a mission. His magic finally found its target, the stacks of ink bottles which the middle evaluator had just before their parchment. The magic latched on, and Error finally allowed himself a grin as he tugged his hand upwards. They floated calmly into the air, three of them, and did a quick spinning motion, before settling back down just where heâd found them.
   He didnât catch the looks on the threes faces, but he had to imagine they were priceless. He was more focused on letting the spell dissipate and preparing for the next.Â
   It took a moment, before, âSecond Spell,â They said, âCreate Water.âÂ
   Another easy one.Â
   Error held his hand out again, though this time his palm faced the sky rather than the ground. At the mutter of his words, he could feel the water manifesting. Tiny droplets leaking from his fingers and into the air above his open palm, where he let it gather into a nice, easy sphere.Â
   It hovered, and for this one he could see the nods from the three evaluators. The fourth, the cat monster, didnât move an inch. A good sign.Â
   Error, after a breath, moved the orb of water and simply set it on the stage floor. If he had to release it, he didnât exactly want to get his clothes wet. That orb tended to shoot outwards when he released it, and the water would go everywhere.Â
   âThird spell,â They mustâve been contented with his simply setting down the water, for they continued, âFlame.â
   Ah, one of his favorites. He was never very good at it, of course, but it was certainly very fun. If nothing else itâd be a taste of his raw power.
   He rolled up his hanging sleeves, quickly using strands of string to wrap them in place, before he picked back up the water orb in one hand. With the other, he faced his palm toward the side of it, and spoke the words for the flame spell.Â
   The heat gathered in his wrist, and all at once shot out of his palm, like a cannon blast. The heat was intense, and Error laughed quietly to himself in pure elation as the fire did exactly what he was hoping. All at once, his glasses fogged, and a burst of steam blew past his face, off to the exiting side of the stage. Heâd evaporated his orb, no longer needing to risk someone seeing him fumble with it and soak himself.Â
   He let the fire die after a few second, and quickly grabbed the hem of his scarf to wipe down his glasses from the fog left behind on their surface.Â
   The moment the red rims were back on the bridge of his nose, the voice spoke up again.Â
   âName?â
   Error cleared his throat, before calling back his name in response. Just the first one, the last one didnât matter anymore.Â
   There was another few breaths of quiet, before,Â
   âAge?â
   Error hadnât heard them ask anyone else for their age, but he figured theyâd noticed. How strong and talented he was at such a young age.Â
  He puffed up his chest when he announced, âTwelve!â to the arena.Â
   There were a few muffled murmurs from the line, but Error was too busy grinning across the way at the evaluators as they seemed to talk amongst themselves.Â
   He was ready to hear the word that would mark him to continue. The next part was tomorrow, after this round was concluded and the king arrived. Heâd heard about it in the line while he was waiting.Â
   One of the evaluators lifted their gaze back to him. Opened their mouth.
   âDisqualified.â
   That.
   Huh?
   Error mustâve visibly glitched at the response, because one of the evaluators seemed to flinch. Ever so slightly.Â
   âHow come?!â Error called back, reservations immediately fleeing his mind.
   How could they disqualify him? He hadnât heard them do that to literally anyone else so far today.Â
   The evaluator on the far right spoke up, âToo young. Now please move off the-â
   Error mightâve let his mouth speak before his mind, if he hadnât seen the way the mysterious cat monster seemed to slink forward. A simple tap to the evaluatorâs side and they stopped mid-sentence, attention drawing to the person.Â
   He waited with balled fists. Hoping, against it all, that this person was using his mighty veto powers to get him his passing review.Â
   âThe Knight wishes to speak to you further.â They said, when the person, the Knight, took a step back. âExit the stage.âÂ
   Mm.Â
   This was his chance. This was his moment. He was being allowed to move on, he was sure of it. It had to be.Â
   He practically scrambled off the stage and down the steps, and found that the Knight had closed the distance very quickly. He gestured silently for Error to follow him off to the side of the arena, seemingly outside of the voice spellâs range, as the noise of magic and calling for the next viewer seemed all muffled and contained.Â
   Something Error noticed about the guy, now that he was right beside him walking along, was also that he wasnât a cat monster. No, he had some sort of mask shaped like a cat. Black spots painted on black fur, with piercing white eyelights hidden in the darkness cast by his black hood. A cloth mask covered the lower half of his face, so Error wouldâve had no idea what kind of monster he was, if he hadnât left his hands uncovered. They were grey and grimy, but they were most certainly bones.Â
   The other thing he noticed, was the magic. That damp, airy magic was no-doubt from this guy. It practically enveloped the both of them until they were stood in the shade of the wall separating bleachers from arena floor.Â
   âYou said youâre twelve?â He finally asked, shifting on his feet to look at Error.Â
   The last thing he noticed, which only happened once he was able to look past the aura, was that. Well. He was a bit taller than this guy. Not by much, but there was certainly something stark about having to look a bit downwards to meet his eyelights.Â
   âYes, I am.â He claimed proudly, still convinced this was to be his ride to the top.
   The knight seemed to skim him with his eyes. Surely taking in Errorâs clothes, his bag, his glasses, the weird bones. Though, it didnât feel pervasive.Â
   âImpressively strong for a kid,â He praised loosely, âAnd probably talented in spells if the nerds were any indication.âÂ
   His voice was quiet and raspy, but Error had no problem listening to it. This strong and very cool guy who was called a âknightâ was praising him. This was much better than getting yelled at by his professors. Much.Â
   âDoes that mean I passed?â He asked impatiently.Â
   He needed this. He needed this.Â
   The guyâs eyelights lingered on his face a bit, and it was then that Error finally noticed how virtually unreadable this guy was. Impossibly quiet, posture unmoving, all facial features shrouded in shadow and covered by masks?
   âIâm not sure what kingdom youâre from, but youâve got to understand that the folks up there didnât say no because youâre bad. They said no because the king made a new decree. âNo soul under the age of 16 shall be put to work under the crown.â Theyâve gotta take it seriously, just like everyone else has to follow the new rules about their own shops and businesses.â He said evenly, eyelights never leaving Errorâs face. âYouâre a couple years too early is all.âÂ
   It felt like heâd been shoved into a ditch, and he could already feel his right hand starting to tremble with the beginnings of a glitch. He was furious! How could they possibly say no to him because of some stupid rule about his age?Â
   âNo!â He exclaimed, trying to bite back the distortion on his voice, âIâm not going to just walk away. If I could just move on to the next round, theyâd see Iâm different! Iâm not some weak little baby!âÂ
   He clenched his fists, driving his jittering one forcefully into his pocket.Â
   The knight didnât even flinch at his declaration.Â
   âTheyâve already seen that.â He said easily. âListen to me. Error, right?âÂ
   Error hesitantly nodded.Â
   âError, âm sure that if my Lord saw you in action, he too would agree that you are very strong and resourceful.â The knight said, and Error hated that it sounded earnest. âBut, he set that law into place for very good reason. If by any means those folks back there were to let you through, to pass you, and you made it before the king next round? Theyâd have committed treason, and Iâd have their souls on the end of my bone in three seconds flat.âÂ
   His voice was hard and serious, and Error held strong as a loud crack echoed out beside the knight. A bone raised from the ground, sharp and jagged on the end, absolutely radiating magic.Â
   âDo you really want their blood on your conscience, just so that you get sent away by the King anyways?â The knight offered.Â
   Error hunched his shoulders a bit, and he felt his static worsen as he let his eyes linger on the bone. Yes. He muttered inside his head. He wanted to scream it at the man before him. Tell him that this was his one golden chance to prove himself.Â
   But to who? He would ask, and Error wouldnât be able to say it. Itâd be a wasted sentiment and wasted time and wasted lives just for his temper tantrum.Â
   â...No.â He bit out meekly.Â
   He stood there, feeling a familiar shame creep up his spine. The knight made no move to leave, though he did let his bone disappear. The ground looked untouched from where it had split out of. Just more sand. Sand that was getting into Errorâs bones. That heâd have to clean out later. Swinging in his hammock, lonely and moping.Â
   âHeh,â The chuckle was almost inaudible, and Error was almost ready to let his distress turn back into rage, but, âBetter kid than I was.â The Knight mused into the open air.
   He seemed to shift his stance again, and Error took a half step back.Â
   âYouâve got your life ahead of you, kid. Donât let this keep you down. Take the road less traveled by or whatever.â He said then, waving a hand loosely before him.Â
   Error stared at him, trying to even his breath, before he had an idea.Â
   âThe other two rounds will be here, right?â He asked, voice still harshly stuttering and screeching. The Knight seemed unbothered.
   âYeah. Planning on sticking around to watch?â The knight questioned, though it felt more like a warning.Â
   Error nodded in agreement without hesitation. âIf these geezers can get the job, I need to see what kind of tricks they have up their sleeves.â He agreed.Â
   That earned another little chuckle, before the knight looked back to the stage.Â
   Up in the center was a new mage, a human who seemed to be making a pretty wild wind that was whipping the sand around, bothering the people in line behind him. Error heard the knight make a scoffing noise, before turning back towards the stage.
   âGo hang around somewhere else for a while, why donât you? I have to go make sure those nerds donât pass that guy.âÂ
   Error didnât even get to say a farewell before the Knight was off.Â
   It seemed like every stride he teleported a bit further, building speed until he stopped cleanly up on the pedestal. Just in time for the sandstorm to die down.Â
   Error didnât want to walk away from this, he didnât, but staying would only waste his time. It only took a few more seconds, to watch the knight nudge the evaluator and hear the muffled call of âfailâ ring out across the arena before he was turning tail and moving out of the sandy paradise, back into the bustle of the living city.Â
.
.
.
   It was impossible to miss it. The sounds of celebration as the monarch entered the town.Â
   Error could see the royal carriage from his perch, an old temple tower that had at some point lost its bell. It seemed untouched, birds nests and cobwebs, so heâd set up a hammock and a little makeshift shelter inside using his strings just before night fell.Â
   Heâd snatched some food from the town as dusk was setting in, and heâd been comfortably whittling away the dark hours, working hard on his plan.Â
   With the King officially in town, that meant the second round would be starting up shortly, taking the numbers of who would be in the third round down by hundreds. He hoped the king was stingy about it. He hoped that dragonish monster would stumble on his spell and turn someone into a frog.Â
   The thought humored him, and he cackled quietly to himself from his makeshift room.Â
   The sun was high again, and he was only a part of the way through. His spells required a lot of his magic to be woven into them, and while it was much much faster than what heâd heard was the usual, it was still difficult to make.Â
   Weaving the blue strings from his sockets, to his fingers, around his fingertips, and into the shapes he needed. It was monotonous, and boring by all accounts, but with every strand there was a new flow of power. A new pump of adrenaline into Errorâs soul as he recognized his creation becoming more potent. Intent, intent, intent, every loop and knot was filled to the brim with it. His frustration sat at the core. Much more volatile and destructive than his usual intent, but it would serve him well if he wanted this plan to go well. Around it was his determination. The strings woven in with a sense of stubbornness which refused to let go, like a snake swallowing its prey whole. This would compress the first layer into a proper state. Let it coil and coil and coil until it burst. Itâd be big, and loud, and send out that message he so desperately needed to be heard by the king.Â
   Skipping the second round would probably hurt him in the long run, but⊠That knight had said heâd have to kill those people if he showed his face in round two. So, heâd just appear in round three instead, and make up for missing the second one. A final act, of sorts.Â
   Heâd have to be at this all day to make the time crunch. The orb was hardly as big as his palm, not nearly big enough. Though, he had wasted time making the shelter and finding food. Heâd just have to skip a couple meals to make up for it. He didnât really need to eat that much anyways, heâd known that for years. He just tried to make an effort when he smelled something tasty.Â
   He knew he could manage.Â
   It was late in the night when Error finally started on the outer layers. Those which would be filled with his patience, so that the potent insides would not be sensed as he moved with it among the many magic users.Â
   The town had begun to line the streets with torches and party as the stars arrived. No doubt celebrating those who would be at the third and final round tomorrow. The ones who would be competing to become the new Royal Mage.Â
   To Error? Every single moment down there was dedicated to him. They just didnât know it yet.Â
.
.
.
   The morning came, and Error only had a few more layers.Â
   By the time the sun was almost in the center of the sky above, he had finished it, and carefully tucked it into his backpack. He unraveled the strings and carefully wrapped them, shaping them, changing them into a thin net with long ends. This was shoved into his jacket sleeve, the ends clutched tight in his hand.Â
   It took him hardly any time at all to get to the arena, and he was early.Â
   Good.
   He settled himself up in the stands, as close to the stage as he could get. Many people seemed to be staying outside the arena, sticking to the streets, but there was still enough of a crowd in the bleachers that Error had to be careful as he worked his way along the edges. He needed to be closer. CloserâŠ
   There.Â
   He stood at the railing behind the stage.Â
   From here, he could see the line to the left, and he could see the people who had finished lingering on the other side. None of them spoke to each other, only standing about, icily, waiting for the rest to finish so theyâd know which of them was chosen, and who was not. Error had to imagine that these folks were just as lame and boring as the seniors from his old academy. No fun at all.Â
   He waited, so, so patiently, for the next few people. The last few.Â
   Though he couldnât see the spells themselves, he could certainly feel the pressure coming off of them. The control that theyâd need to balance it. How much it mightâve drained their energy to do it just once. He was attuned to that sort of thing, he had to be.Â
   His assessment was that all of these last few folks werenât bad, but they were no match for Errorâs raw talent.Â
   Each spell cast seemed to tick away at Errorâs patience, until it finally happened. The last mage went on-stage. It seemed there had been 15 of them.Â
   Heâd have to make 16, then.Â
   It felt like a blur as he jumped the rails and let his strings carry him across the open space, much to the shock of the few who had been watching the competitors from around him. The blue lines snatched at the wooden supports of the stage, and he swung right over top, landing a bit messily in the center of the stage.
   He didnât have time to look at everything. All he knew was the crowd was much larger than last time, that there was a shout of âHey!ââ from somewhere to his left, and that the box across from the stage now held only three people. Monsters. One Error recognized, the knight in shadows whoâd spoken to him. The other two he didnât know, but he had to assume the one in the middle, tall and imposing, and dark, with an eyelight the same colors as the tapestries, was the King he was looking to impress. That was all he needed to know.Â
   âMâlord, my name is Error!â He called out across the sand, and in one motion he shrugged the bag off his shoulders and used his strings to tug the orb out of its canvas body. âI want to prove that Iâm more capable than any of the adults who just went before me! I could be your mage!â He would be the mage.Â
   The orb sat cradled in Errorâs hand for only the briefest moment, before it was inside the little net heâd made. He swung it in circles. Again. Again. Again.Â
   He had to be fast. He had to do this quick.
   Error spent one last moment, extending his reach through his strings, muttering words and igniting an intangible spark.Â
   For a brief moment, he watched as the King seemed to ease forward. A hand now raised, seemingly calling off his knights, who had been almost in motion.Â
   He released the orb directly upwards, momentum carrying it up.Â
   Up.
   Up.
   Into the blue sky. Practically into the sun.Â
   Error watched it rise above him.Â
   Only.Â
   âShit.âÂ
   His calculations mustâve been off. He mustâve added a layer too many, or maybe he released it a swing too soon. But he could tell that it wouldnât clear the top of the arena.Â
   Maybe if he had a few more seconds he couldâve used strings to boost it. He couldâve sent a magic gust to lift it further.Â
   Not the case.
   He watched as the orb detonated, just like it was supposed to.Â
   The wave moved horizontally through the air, and swept across the air above the arena so quickly that it sucked the sand from the top layer and threw it against the tall walls. Errorâs footing slipped, and he stumbled to his knees on the stage as the wind whipped and tugged the heavy curtains into the air current as well.Â
   It was an almost invisible force, Error had to imagine anyone without a solid grasp of magic would entirely miss it as it spread out.Â
  He winced as it finally reached the edges of the arena, where he had just barely managed to fall short of clearing.Â
   As the magic passed over the stone and mortar, he saw as it fell. Not in chunks, but crumbled like dust into fine particles. The upper half of every arch at the top of the grand amphitheatre, turned pitch black, then wasted away.Â
   He hadnât meant for it to come in contact with anything. It wasnât supposed to do anything but harmlessly wave over everyoneâs heads. As a show of his strength. That was all.
   Error could only think back to when this had happened before. When heâd accidentally exploded Genoâs favorite mug while metering the strength of his strings. When heâd broken the wheel of a carriage passing through the woods with a wayward slingshot blast. When heâd broken all ten of the large windows in the lecture hall of the academy when he failed to complete a spell the way it was written. When heâd done it too well.
   As he rose to his feet, he half expected the nagging voice of his older brother to be there, chastising him for not being more careful, before taking him home and making him dinner.Â
   It wasnât that, though.Â
   He watched out across the sand. The king had his head tilted only slightly, looking up at Errorâs lofty mistake. At the clean cut where stone now met unbothered air. His knight, the one in all black, was leaned ever so slightly towards him. They mustâve been speaking. Or, at least, the knight was.Â
   About Error, he had no doubt.Â
   He stayed in place, watching, swaying a bit with the residual force of his own spell lingering in his fingertips. Every instinct which told him to run and to hide were smothered and stamped out by the ligering fact that he had nowhere to go. Without his brothers, there was no one to help him. He knew it.Â
   Even in front of this crowd. These mages. This King and his knights. He couldnât bring himself to move offstage. Some part of him, deep down, childishly wanted the King to announce that he was impressed. To parade him offstage and let him experience what Geno had. Let him know why Geno left.Â
   The Kingâs single eyelight swam back over to look at Error in the silence.Â
   Error felt like the world had stopped.Â
   It hadnât.
   There was a clattering of armor and rustling of fabric, suddenly loud in his ears, and he had no time to react as everything came rushing in all at once.Â
   Hands. Heavy, gloved hands. Two sets, two hands each wrapped one of his upper arms, and immediately lifted him off the ground. Into the air.Â
   Pain flooded into his bones from his soul, like twin lightning strikes, trying to singe the bone and the magic in its core. The pressure wasnât much, his mind knew that, but his body usually didnât listen to him. He tried desperately to hold it in. The rampant part of his magic that had been hurting him since he could remember. That made it hard to touch anyone. To shake hands. To hug his brothers.Â
   âLet go!â He pleaded, though he wasnât sure if his voice made any sense. Fresh always told him they couldnât tell what he was saying when his voice got too bad.
   More pain. He kicked his legs at the open air, and tried to muster control over his strings, just for a moment, but he couldnât. He couldnât focus.Â
   And all at once it stopped.Â
   Errorâs feet were on the ground again, though that promptly became his knees again as he swayed and wavered in the sudden aftermath of his active magic dying down. Receding back into his soul. Because it didnât need to âprotectâ him anymore.
   He spotted then, as his vision returned to something aside from the gloves or the sky, that the King was no longer in his throne. In fact, there was a heavy, encompassing, magical weight behind him now. Somewhere very, very close-by.
   He took a deep breath, grounding himself.Â
   âWe are taking a recess.â Announced a booming voice. Very nearby. It was deep, and felt almost the same as the projection spell from two days prior. Then, more quietly, âYou will leave the boy to me. Go ensure no one was injured, then manage the crowd. Iâll make my choice tomorrow at sunrise.âÂ
   The second bit felt quieter, an edge to the tone that Error didnât quite like. Considering he must be the boy in question.Â
   It was a moment, a few muddled âYes, my kingâ s, before Error found a pair of boots stepping before him. His head swam as he looked upwards.Â
   The King, he figured that had to be him, was dark. Very dark. Like a living, dripping, shadow. Magic seemed to be all he was made of, an aura radiating from him. Dripping off his back into long slimy worms, twitching as they sat near the ground. He wore a fancy cape, too. One with huge gold clasps on his shoulders, one was shaped like the moon.Â
   Error looked to his face last. In hindsight, something that couldâve been very, very bad. He was met with a dripping face. Skeletal. The place where his right socket shouldâve sat was covered in that dark substance. The other hollow, with that bright cyan orb staring right back at him.Â
   âCan you stand?â His voice came easily, and Error braced himself.Â
   Could he?
   He had to, he didnât want to be touched again.Â
   Error took another breath, and managed to rise silently to his feet.Â
   âGood,â the King said once he was standing, âFollow me.â
   It was an order he didnât dare refuse.Â
.
.
.
   Error found himself in an odd position.Â
Â ïżœïżœÂ Heâd been given time to sit and recover from his magicâs outlash, and now he was sat in a room beneath the bleachers of the arena alongside the King and that knight heâd met before. The other one was guarding the door, he thought.Â
   Itâd been silent for a while, and it was almost expected when the silence was finally broken.Â
   âYou said your name is Error, correct?â The King asked, and Error gave a nod of yes. He forced himself to meet the Kingâs gaze.
   âDust says that youâre only 12, and our people disqualified you in the first round. Is that right?âÂ
   Error nodded again.Â
   âAnd Dust even explained to you why you were disqualified?âÂ
   Another nod. It seemed heâd at least made an impression on the knight. Dust.Â
   The King tilted his head ever so slightly to the side, eyelight holding Errorâs tightly.Â
   âThen, Iâll ask, what brought you to think this was a good choice? To try and become Royal Mage above any cost it might bring?â The king asked, and Error was surprised to find it was a shockingly gentle tone. âYour home, your family, your life. You are so young, why put it all on the line like this?âÂ
   Oh.Â
   It was almost funny. Was this whole thing because the king was some sort of charitycase? So disillusioned by his perfect life that he couldnât even think of the hardships any random kid could go through? He almost grinned at that, barely keeping his mouth from twitching in a mix of frustration and humor.
   âI wanted to prove myself,â He muttered, âAnd besides, becoming the Royal Mage would be great.âÂ
   He waited, waited for the King to inhale, to say something, before,Â
   âIâm an orphan.â He spat, finally. âFamily abandoned me, house is left behind, expelled from school. I donât want to keep wandering.âÂ
   It was basically the truth. This was his big break. His one last chance before he became a hated little vagabond. Maybe even a criminal. Maybe heâd have to go on the run for the rest of his life, live as a nomad. Join a caravan. Those people got stopped a lot though, kingdoms didnât like them. Heâd probably explode some cityâs bakery by mistake and get put in jail for-
   âWait!â Error suddenly exclaimed, breaking free of his thoughts, âAm I in trouble? Am I going to jail??â He asked then.Â
   His worries slammed to a grinding halt and he stared wide-eyed at the two before him. Geno had always told him not to go making his big stuff near town, because if the guard caught him he wouldnât be able to bail him out. Heâd end up in jail. Of course, itâd never happened back then because he was always fast enough. Always smart enough to get out of dodge when he broke something or made poor decisions. Here? Here he hadnât run when he had the chance.Â
   The King stared at him, his one eyelight nearly mirroring Errorâs in surprise at the question.Â
   âI mean,â he started, âYouâre young. If I wont let you work for me, I wouldnât dare put you in prison either.â The King stated, âThough, you did do quite a bit of damage to the theatre.âÂ
   Error watched him break eye contact finally and look over his shoulder to the Knight stood there. Heâd been silently watching Error too.Â
   When he had no insight, The king seemed to heave a sigh, and the shadowy extra limbs which draped around him twitched.Â
   âYouâre sure you have no family? No home?â the King asked him again, and Error nodded.
   The king muttered something under his breath, and shot the Knight another look. The knight shrugged.Â
   âI⊠Will not employ you. Though, I do see talent in you, Error.â the King said carefully, a bit slower in his words than he had been up until now. Almost⊠unsure. âI will, however, extend to you the title so that you may conductâŠâ He waved a hand before himself, as though searching for a word, â You may conduct independent research. If you accept, of course.â
   âYou would be free to resend your acceptance at any moment, no strings attached, and may take any work you complete along with you, and any pay you receive would be given to you after your 16th birthday, if you stay that long.â He added, âIâll have to rewrite the contract, but-â
   âI accept!âÂ
   Error couldnât help himself. He was so excited he could puke. The last thing heâd expected was to pull this off. This shitshow of a scheme actually got him the job? He could scream. He could jump up and down for joy. He didnât, he sat eagerly and tense in his seat instead, but he couldâve.Â
   The King seemed to hesitate, for a few breaths, before relaxing. He stood, and offered a hand out slowly to Error.Â
   Error stood too, grinning. He could manage this one. He could do it.Â
   It was brief, but he grasped the Kingâs hand and shook it firmly.
   âDust, will you help Error locate his belongings, and escort him to wherever he is staying tonight? Iâll send Cross to swap with you a bit later. Weâll reconvene in the morning just before sunrise.âÂ
#new age au#Gods these guys are so so silly to me#I wanted this to be Error's perspective mostly but also. I love the others dearly#I need y'all to know that Dust and Nightmare 100% talked about Error's situation after Night offered the deal and they agreed it was#probably the best call for Error's sake if nothing else. But like. What poor timing for such a strong orphan to come out of nowhere#and immediately mess up Night's new rule lmao.#Also idk if I lost steam into the 2nd half so I apologize if that's not as tasty but like... I had a lot going on and I knew if I stopped#it would never get finished ever haha-#Let's see what other thoughts i had...#Definitely need to write Error first arriving and feeling the whimsy of meeting Geno and getting to rant to Nightmare about his newest craz#idea and getting his own courtyard to try things out and all that jazz#And also experiencing Ccino panic at the sight of a young child because ??? Night ur better than that what happened??? And subconsciously#pick up on the brotherly energy they have towards eachother.#And to let Error set boundaries about his tower#who can come in and who can't and how to call for him (use strings outside like a door-knocker basically) and just! Watch him adjust and#thrive!!!!#anyways yeah. Dust definitely becomes the one Error speaks to the most often besides Nightmare. And Nightmare is busy so he mainly just#checks in on him to listen to his new ideas and make sure he's still alive#so there's not a whole lot of interaction aside from Night being a positive and encouraging force to Error's magic practice (maybe they#train on occassion too?)#And then. Y'know. Nightmare shrinks and is just a lil goofy nerd and loves listening to Error and thinks he's super duper cool.#(OH! And Error turns 13 like. a few days into his emplyment#so he's 14 when Night becomes 13 again-)#okay good night everyone!!
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i think i wouldnât hate disco elysiumâs collage mode nearly as much if it werenât for 1) the way that it was marketed in such a tasteless, soulless manner, let alone the fact that it was a last ditch distraction from a dead on its feet studio piloted by dumbass thieving execs and released on the day of the court declaration, and 2) those dumbass fucking stickers
like if it had been included with the base game from the start and had been titled something a bit more tasteful and in-line with how i would have liked the feature to be marketed asâ something like âexploration modeâ, something that perhaps could only be unlocked after completing the game for the first time, AND didnât have those stupid as hell visually and tonally incongruent with the artstyle stickers, i would have applauded it as a nice little bonus for being able to study and appreciate the 3d models and environments for reference.
#it is just so bleak man.#i have no words left to say for the latest development at zaum studios so instead i will just remember how fucked up this was lol#those stickers are the same energy as that dumbass fucking christmas card they put on steam.#cutesy fanart is awesome and all but donât muddy the tone of the actual source with it. why is that necessary.#for gods sake what happened to boundaries#again i probably would take a different tone to even the stickers if#it had been done under the original creators (which i donât think it would haveâ which is my pointâ but say hypothetically it happened)#but with the circumstances the way they are it is impossible to not view it all as tainted with a veneer of absolute tastelessness#and a disrespect to the source material and a sorry attempt to appeal to the shallowest parts of âfandomâ#like you can add cartoony emoji faces and a sticker with harry and kim as cats. or their hands with the caption âbest friends!!!â (wtf lol)#and a frame with a bunch of pride flags being waved around (hard to articulate why i feel doubly annoyed of this one.#your corporate pride parade aesthetic is showing again. also it feels⊠lazy)#but you can neverâ ever erase the fact that you are parading around a stolen IP that you are entirely out of touch with#and one that you clearly have *no idea what to do with*#(something that weâve all known for months with these hints but today has finally been basically confirmed as the sequel seems to be#officially cancelled with the last of the original writersâ crew being laid off)#how could you have known what to do with Elysium? how could you ever have?#hope you have fun with your stickers. rot#disco elysium#me talking
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hey guys what's up
For those who don't know, you can swap game logos in your steam library with custom ones by right clicking the steam banner and clicking "Set Custom Logo". As far as I know Steam accepts both .png and .jpeg formats (there's ways to get gifs to work as well, but that gets a bit technical so it might be best to look at a guide for that)
along with that you can also adjust the position of the logo as well as set custom backgrounds!
#slay the princess#stp#feel free to take and use this however you want#instructions on how to set custom steam logos under the cut#this took a day and a half to make I'm posting this on tumblr damnit#all jokes aside this was actually really fun to edit#the fact that the logo's in black and white definitely helps!#if anyone has any ideas for other phrases they'd like to see i'd be happy to make a couple!#(although if you would like to request something please try to limit the amount of new letters I'd have to make from scratch. for my sake)#(also if anyone could tell me what font the stp logo is in that would be great)#why is this not showing up in the tags anymore nooooooooooooo#tumblr pleeease
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What if both Daud and Corvo were just a bit more tired of everything in chapter 7
"A drink?"
"Last time I accepted a drink I puked blood and some asshole stole my gear."
"Fair enough." Pulls out a cigarette. "It's not mine anyway. Pilfered it from Thomas." Takes a draft. "And that's the big irony isn't it. You, the martyr, the innocent man seeking to right wrongs and spare those in your path, betrayed over and over by those you thought your allies. And me, the monster who did this all to you, to everyone, with the loyalty of so many people that I don't deserve."
"Are you done waxing?"
"...Yeah." pulls out the key "I'm assuming this is what you're here for." silence. "Now what?"
"Now I'm taking this key and you are going to come along to fix at least a fragment of what you fucked up."
"I am?"
"Yes."
"You sound very certain."
"I've been listening to your Whalers practice your eulogy and very unsubtly try to convince me of your virtues for a week. I also stole your damn diary. I am very certain and very livid, so I suggest we finish this conversation and get going before I change my mind and drive your own sword through your throat."
#dishonored#writing#whale tag#corvo attano#daud#this won't be the next thing i post#but i may very well finish it at some point#for the record the idea here is that the poison takes a while longer to wash out#and corvo spends a week in that hole#during which there are some whalers actually guarding him#they make a very unsubtle performance about expositing their own backstories to each other#trying to convince Corvo to please not kill Dad I mean Daud#cause clearly they cannot convince daud to not basically commit suicide by corvo for the sake of his closure#might as well work on the other end then#meanwhile daud runs out of steam to be a dramatic little shit
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Nick. Since when does Puppetgear exist đđ
ever since i created niko essentially hehe
#ok tbf this is when the ship is created#if we estimated how long ive been in love with this lil shit itd be in 2021 or 2022 ever since he first appeared in the event#i was there before the name 'kunikuzushi' or 'kabukimono' was even a thing btw#I WAS THERE BEFORE KAZUHA EXISTED#so yes its pretty long if we use real time#but for sake of things i just use niko's creation date JSJXJSNDN#⧠; es-steamed guests
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1. Saw the length of the video and wondered if Spine was actually going to say anything nice about GG (Answer: Not really. Had a few things to say about Spider-Man though.)
2. GG has multiple bodies
#idk if he was referring to Delilah or what but hey thatâs pretty freaky#it sounds about right#curious to know how the bots deal with her when sheâs giant#TBF in the first Radio Adventure episode I automatically aussumed GG was giant for some reason#the big booming voice and the nervousness from the bots about her other features made me think she was massive though I know sheâs small#so maybe itâs that#or maybe heâs referring to that time she turned into a dragon#IDK#point is#GG can be giant if she wants to#I like to think that she only has the choice between her tiny body and her massive body#so she chooses her tiny body for the sake of convenience#now imagine if she manages to get her consciousness into that tiny little figurine too#then how many bodies will she have??#steam powered giraffe#spg#the spine spg#gg the giraffe#my stuff
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I was a bit bummed when the pact scenes stopped being described as much!
#necromancer survival#minor spoilers#i finished this for the sake of finishing but i lost a lot of motivation and steam#i enjoy this webnovel but it's definitely something I would not rec o others lol
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Masterpost
#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#dunmeshi spoilers#most delicious meal in the dungeon tournament#court cuisine full course meal#nightmares steamed in sake
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Me when the only one who can make content of my self ship is me
#i HAAAAVE TO GET BACK TO DRAWING I HAVE SO MANY IDEAS FOR MY SHIP W MOJO#JUST SWIMMING AROUND IN MY HEAD AAAAAAAAAAAH đđđđđđđđđđđđđđ#NEED TO DRAW SHIT OR ELSE I DIE!!!!!!#i am still working on that gifset but jesus christ am i losing steam đđđđ and i JUST got to the halfway point on it#idek why its taking so long???? i think im just being rly fucking particular on it for no reason#well there is a reason. its a gifset of my beloved of course i want it to be as good as possible đ„șđđ„șđđ„șđđ„șđ„șđđ#but maybe i can settle for it being... like 5% less good for the sake of getting it done faster đ
#idk man#ruby rambles#đ: loving you's a felony
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Small sneak peek of a style sheet Iâm doing for rabbit!
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Me when the âmatureâ game is just the writers barely disguised fetish and/or the writer trying to be as edgy as possible
Fuck me for wanting a mature story that actually means anything and encourages me to THINK. Like intimacy in horror can be explored in so many creative ways but noooo itâs just tasteless depictions of SA and downright harmful messages about mental health
Anyways yes thank you Fear and Hunger and Darkwood for existing
#Iâm looking at a certain game#disrespectfully#shout out to#fear and hunger#and also#darkwood#for being actually good#the problem with adult horror is people trying too hard#some urbanspook type shit#itâs just for shock and nothing else#if you donât have to include SA then donât#and if you do#do it respectfully#and for fucks sake#do NOT make the victim the âbad guyâ#and do not try to sympathize with the abuser#istg#dude has one bad thing happen to him and weâre supposed to excuse his actions#Iâm fucking over it dude#people really let anything on steam huh
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