middleofsomewhere | So Familiar a Gleam: Finale

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So Familiar a Gleam: Finale

YOU R̴̨̬̗̞̺̖̣̱͌̋̅͊͒̃͘Ų̴̨̨̦͎̭̥̰͍̞͙̲̰̞̭̎̆̓͂́͒̑͌̆̉̕͝Î̶̲͖͙͍̮̮̯̭͘͝N̵̡̢̢̛̛͔̳̲͚̙͕̘̠̞̈͊̂̋̆ͅÉ̸͖̟̻̯̪̭͉̭͖̱̙̠̺͎̥̿D̸̥́͒̈́̔̓̅̋͛̉̀͒̇̚̚ MY WORLD

A TL;DR notes version of days/prompts: (click to show)

EVENT BASICS:

DAYS 8-9 (M11-M12):

Buildings had begun to disappear during days 7&8, facilities and even whole streets begin vanishing. There are signs of crumbling infrastructure everywhere they look.
In the early morning of Day 9 (M12), the cracks in the city - in this illusionary world - finally spread. The void sky above shines brightly in its colours. Chaos - also referred to as the Entity, or That Guy - is heard screaming of vengeance against the Voidtreckers, blaming all that has happened onto them. It shows what happened to the original Diagad: It was destroyed by blocky shapes in the sky that came down and destroyed it, while Chaos itself fell into the void.

There is also some light mind torture, as a treat, to really wake people up. Memories, visions of their past assail them. This is the sort of stuff the voidtreckers have been training against and it's a good time for them to put all that work to the test.
Anan's group then takes over any electrical device still left. She explains that they have a way to get the non voidtreckers (4th wall characters and npcs) home and also a way to temporarily seal the world. The entity takes offence at this and the screens smash. The entity appears as a cyclone of crackling colourful energy.
Illusionary creatures are sent around to find and attack Voidtreckers, but they're also going after 4th wallers/NPCS. There's also monsters from other worlds leaking through, real monsters. People will have to move around more carefully, as going out on the streets is dangerous.
However, there's word that buildings are disintegrating/disappearing farther out from the centre sector. People see where the city limits are as the illusion of there being more to the city has completely faded.
Their SCA's begin to work fully, including comms. Of course not everyone was wearing their SCA when they got pulled and the 4th wallers don't have one so it will be up to those who do to make sure everyone is kept in the loop.
The main tasks are as follows.

"YOU. YOU WISH TO RUIN MY WORLD. TO TEAR IT ASUNDER, BREAK AND CRUMBLE AND INCINERATE ITS EXISTENCE AGAIN. AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN. I WATCHED IT. THE END OF DIAGAD, PURPLE SKIES, THE CHILDREN WHO LAUGHED IN JOY, THE SMILES I BROUGHT TO LIFE. THE REASON I WORKED AND WOKE AND WHAT KEPT ME GOING EACH AND EVERY DAY. MY EXISTENCE. MY BEING.

FALLING. FALLING. FALLING. I FELL AS IT CAME, BLACK TERROR WITH A HUNGER. HOW DID THE CHILDREN CRY? DID THEY SUFFER? I CAN HEAR THEM ALL, I CAN IMAGINE THEM. SEE IT. THE POSSIBILITIES, THE MAYBES, THE TRUTH. THE WORLD-- MY BEAUTIFUL DIAGAD, OH! THE VOID HAS BLESSED AND CURSED AND DAMNED AND DESTROYED AND BROUGHT TO ME A CHANCE TO SAVE IT THIS TIME, I WILL SAVE DIAGAD, I WILL HEAR THE CHILDREN LAUGH AGAIN, NO ONE WILL DESTROY MY CITY AGAIN. NO ONE, NO THING, IT WILL BE BEAUTIFUL AND SAVED AND IT WILL PROSPER FOREVER.

ALL WHO HARM US! ALL WHO STOP OUR RETURN! I WILL FIX WHAT HAS BEEN BROKEN. NEVER AGAIN SHALL YOU YOU VOIDTRECKERS HARM MY WORLD AGAIN. TWISTING AND RUINING OUR HOME NO MORE NO MORE I WILL END YOU."

The spiel comes in the early morning of Merriment 12, their ninth day on this strange world, though morning and night are indistinguishable now with the void-scarred sky burning above Jinnjar. Little exists of the sectors but the education and political district, and everyone has had to take shelter in its buildings, on cold tiled floors and with few blankets. There is no waking comfortable, feeling at ease. The city continues to crumble, and the citizens turned into the Entity's Heroes never quit their search and harassing of people who may be secret Voidtreckers, regardless of the ruinous world around them.

And then it speaks. The Entity's voices wakes everyone, enters into dreams, reality and the fake undefinable between one another. Scenes switch from one to another. A sky. Purple, serene and calm. A feeling of great contentment. But then come the shadows. Dark clouds filling the sky, blotting out that most perfect sky. A scream. No, a thousand screams. A world of screams echoes in every ear. A shadowed figure falling into the void. Pain erupts through the body, the mind, madness and grief suffocating every sense, every fibre of the being, and more attempts to fill and drown each and every person in Diagad. There is grief, there is love, there is despair. A longing and desperation that can never be fulfilled that cries out.

Once it's over, many have collapsed from the experience, and there are screams of those scared for their lives. Go out into the streets if you haven't already, and you will see the streets breaking, buildings being pulled like cubes, splitting people and trapping them. And there is a surge that hits people - Voidtreckers, others - with a brainwashing that makes them think of only one thing:

NO MORE. END. WE WILL END THE VOIDTRECKERS.

In amongst all of this chaos screens switch on. Any screens left working in buildings, on buildings, peoples phones. All show a young woman, a droid sat on her hair, metal legs curled around her head.

"Malin?"

A woman's voice. "Yes, go Anan. Now."

"LISTEN UP!" Anan isn't as loud as the booming voice echoing through the city, but she makes herself clear. "We need to evacuate and seal this world. It is falling apart." Stating the obvious, perhaps.

"We can temporarily seal it and we think there is a way to get the others back to their worlds. I know you Voidtreckers have had no training and this is advanced and really dangerous but everyone who is not a void traveller is in a lot of danger."

In truth, even the void travellers were in danger, but she doesn't want morale to be too low.

"Anyone willing to help meet me in the big park. You'll know it, it's the only park left!"

'HOW DARE YOU! HOW DARE YOU THWART ME. NO. NO. YOU DON'T. THIS IS MY CITY. MINE NOT YOURS. NOT YOURS TO DESTROY.' There's a huge crack as the sky itself seems to crack apart as colours twist and turn, a cyclone that forms at the edgez of the city, slowly beginning to devour it.

Over the camera Anan looks visibly shocked, terrified even, lost for words. An older man with reddish greying hair steps towards her, putting a big hand on her shoulder.

"Focus Anan. Voidtreckers. We do not ask it lightly. Please those that can, fight. Buy us time to set the seals. Buy time for those with no void craft to evacuate."

The screens flicker in colour before it cracks into static.

'NONE OF YOU WILL SURVIVE.'

A DISJOINTED REALITY

[ FALLING CITY. ] The city has been torn apart, fragments of roads, buildings and structures floating in a horrible mess. Friends and comrades split apart, some trapped in rooms that once had exits, or with no way out than to fall to nowhere. Pieces may stitch back together again at random, but with the same unpredictably, tear apart.

And if it couldn't get any worse, those core lights buzz around the environment, searching for individuals. They will do anything to hinder our heroes: turn into monsters from their minds, attempt to encase them inside illusions of their fears; even try to make them see pathways that don't exist, to make them fall into nothingness.

But for those who honed their resistances against illusions, this time may be different from the last. And with some experimenting, or just some lucky wishful thinking at the right time - some will find they can bend the illusions to do as they want, if just for a while. Stitch back together pathways so they can be crossed over, or make a weapon appear where it's needed.

It requires concentration, will be exhausting with too much use, but still - when isn't an axe or road on call handy?

[ HINDRANCE OR HELP. ] But it isn't only the core lights and environment they need to worry about. There are monsters coming out of the void - monsters they may recognise, monsters they may not. But unlike those of illusions, these are real, monsters - mechanical, ghostly, flesh and blood, something else entirely - slipping through from other worlds to rampage here.

There are also civilians, those who remain brainwashed, going after the Voidtreckers with powers of their own: telekinesis, pyromancy, superstrength and endurance, and so forth. Their skill levels vary, but the strongest of all are those who features have become twisted, chaotic. Streaks of colours dance under the skin, and they listen to no reason but their own. The entity - no their god, Chaos, is remaking the world. Remaking it the way it should have always been.

Strangely, but luckily, not everyone is harmful. Amongst those out there are a peculiar sight: a short hybrid between child and woodland-creature. They're keen to help, particularly anyone young or good of heart. They will help to lead them to safe shelters - the safe-houses made by Voidtreckers, the protected rooms all that are left. They may even interrupt the core lights from harming youngsters, knocking and shattering them, and then staying close to the youngster.

[ THE EVACUATION. ] For those who manage to make their way to the park, Anan is there, looking grim. One good thing though, as voidtreckers rush towards the entity or get ready to protect those helping evacuate this world- those with SCA's will see them burst into life, comms online.

The evacuation area needs protecting. Those acting as beacons aren't able to fight for themselves and the evacuation process is intense, slow and there are many many people in this city. The main entity is distracted but the monsters are drawn towards this gathering of people. Holding them back is vital to this plan working.

It's going to take everything the voidtreckers and their new friends have, to pull this plan off.

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"If I feel like it," Sanzo confirms, and yes, he's looking right at Devero when he says it.

No particular reason.

Back to the civilians, "And anyway, it's better than staying here. So let's go."

These people aren't reading like part of the illusion to him, so getting them out of here is the priority. Whether his words get them to move, or Devero has to do more reassuring first, once they're in motion the priest falls into an easy, watchful position as they go.

He's used to ambushes.

Which is good, because they don't get more than a couple blocks before he suddenly stops in his tracks, cursing. "All of you, into this gas station, now!"

Anyone who lingers is going to notice the growing shadows, hear the growling and the scrape of claws. Maybe they won't linger any further. Sanzo pulls his gun free of his sleeve, and moves to guard the door.

Really? Devero mouths at him, only just managing not to throw his hands up in the air in exasperation.

The group is not hard to chivvy along after that reassurance. Devero takes point even as Sanzo falls back to guard, the civilians strung out between them. He goes slowly, trying to find a way that leads generally back in the direction of the park while avoiding the worst of the ruptures in reality.

When he hears Sanzo's warning, he doesn't hesitate, immediately pivoting to herd the group into said gas station. A couple of them protest, or freeze to look around and ask what's happening, but he's more than big enough to compel them to move with a push and a firm word. "Take cover and stay down!" he orders once everyone's inside, the authority in his voice enough that they obey.

Once he's sure they're secure, he joins Sanzo at the door. "What did you see-- oh."

"There's a lot of them. And they're not distracted, this time."

Translation: Devero alone is not going to be able to hold them off long enough for Sanzo to use the sutra again. And, frankly-- "Using the sutra probably attracted most of them. It does that. If I fire it again, we'll have half the city on us."

Hadn't been a ton of options earlier, though. They hadn't even had all the civilians gathered in a defensible space like they do now. Sanzo checks his revolver. "You better with the sword or with a gun?"

This might be a last stand, better make it count.

Edited 2021-07-27 03:27 (UTC)

"Rust and ruin," he swears softly, watching the shadows starting to coalesce into the sharp, gangly silhouettes of those same monsters.

He inhales deeply, crushing down the gibbering fear that wants to gather under his breastbone. "Gun," he says hoarsely. "And you'd better show me how to reload the damn thing."

Sanzo does, quickly. One slide, pressed by the thumb, hinges the revolver's spinning chamber open. A tip back drops the spent casings from it, and then he slips the bullets in one by one, quickly and with steady hands. He's had years and years of practice in situations not unlike this one.

A flick of the wrist has it snap shut, and he shoves it at Devero. "Here," And a fist full of loose bullets. "Give me the sword, stay between me and the others."

He can give Devero reloading time, but only if Sanzo's between Dev and the monsters.

"And don't fucking shoot me."

That's what passes for humor from this particular Sanzo priest. Enjoy.

"If I do, it'll be on purpose," Devero says with gallows humor of his own. He pockets the spare ammo and hands off Koumyou's katana to Sanzo.

"If any of you have defensive abilities, get ready to use them," he tells the sheltering civilians, flipping the barrel of the revolver in and out as he does. "But hold them until these things are in the building here with us-- you're screwed if you take me or him out by accident." A jerk of his thumb at Sanzo.

They might be screwed anyway; sure, he's tethered to the train, but no one else here is-- including his partner's son. He's trying not to think too hard about that.

He returns to the door once he has their nervous murmurs of understanding. Now there's nothing to do but practice the reload and wait for the first rush.

"Dickhead," is Sanzo's reply, and is that... that's a smile! Well, a smirk. Whatever.

He can smell Devero's fear on him, so he adds as he pull the katana from its scabbard, "This is still a fucking Tuesday. At least these assholes don't talk."

It's a small silver lining, not hearing 'Sanzo! Hand over the sutra or die!' for fucking once. But they'll either live through it or they won't, and he plans to give the enemy hell either way.

Which... yes. Is a very normal day for him. It's there in his easy body-language as he gives the sword a testing whirl, and then the enemy rushes in.

Devero manages a snort of laughter. It's... actually a little reassuring, Sanzo's reminder that he's in the company of someone who has to fight against pretty much his entire world all the time. Sanzo's more suited to this than he is by far.

Not that there's long to ruminate on that. The monsters attack, and then there's only room in his head for the cycle of aim, fire, reload.

He's not the preternatural shot that Sanzo is, but he has been practicing his marksmanship since ordering his P-18 for the train. Between that, the sheer crush of monsters, and the fact that the holy pistol packs a hell of a punch, he's able to provide Sanzo with solid cover even if the bullets only strike a limb or graze past their target.

But though they're not talking, these fuckers are canny. They learn the pattern real quick, beginning to draw back to the cover of shadows and street debris when Devero has the pistol loaded and then rushing to overwhelm Sanzo as soon as that fifth shot discharges. He reloads as quick as he can with fingers that are at least steady, but he knows he's slow. He's too damn slow, and there are a lot of monsters out there, and the number of bullets in his pocket is chillingly finite.

It's probably for the best that there's no time to think; he can barely spare a though towards how long they'll be able to hold out.

Their hesitation when the gun is loaded lets Sanzo fall into a rhythm where he's able to rest a little bit, at least. Never entirely left alone, but it's easier to fight a few of the bastards than a sea of them.

A few of their attacks get through on the priest. A slice to the ribs here, barely slowed by the ceremonial bamboo breastplate. A shallow stab there, where a claw gets past his sword and burrows into his shoulder before he takes the creature's head off.

And Sanzo's always been a bleeder. Slow to clot even if he was holding still, and he's definitely not doing that. While those white robes of his start to run with red, the priest barely seems to even notice.

This is one of the lulls bought by the fully-loaded banishing gun, and Sanzo holds his free hand against his bleeding side, panting for breath.

"Is that all you fuckers got?"

That's right, he's going to talk shit. And get hit.

Also a Tuesday.

But this time when the surge of enemies come, it seems like it's all of them at once, and Sanzo braces, jaw set with determination. He'll take all you fucking fucks!

...

A young Genjo Sanzo, not yet even used to the name, had wandered the mountains between Kinzan and Chang'an for five long, isolated years after his father's brutal murder. For five horrifying, scraping years, he'd killed every would-be rapist or assassin sent his way, unable to even place the sutra on his shoulders. The weight had been too much.

The weight of all the murder had been too much. The weight of the moonlight, pressing down. Reminding him of his failure. The guilt had nearly crushed him.

And often, he'd dreamed -- wished -- prayed -- that somehow the memory of Koumyou Sanzo's death had been a fabrication. An illusion. A horrible mistake, and not just in that such a powerful priest had died for someone as small and weak and worthless as him.

He had wanted, more than anything, more than even finding the Seiten sutra that was now his charge, to see Koumyou Sanzo again. Alive. Smiling. Coming to save him from the guilt and the corpses piling onto him. Save him from this group of bandits, save him from that enraged village. Save him.

He'd have given anything for that. He'd have given anything to have his father back, the one person he'd ever loved, the one person who might reach down and pluck him from the river of blood and guilt he was drowning in.

So.

In the here and now, when the monsters rush in and there is suddenly that familiar body in those familiar robes between himself and the danger, it actually makes Genjo Sanzo's knees give out. He goes to one knee in the dirt, holding himself up with the sword dug into the ground, as the world around him erupts into absolute carnage.

Tendrils of the Seiten sutra are out, not even glowing, but slicing through monstrous bodies like tissue paper. They don't dissolve like they had for the Maten's makai tenjou, simply sliced apart to land on the ground in wet plops.

Koumyou wastes no time, immediately jumping onto one of the larger beasts to snap its thick neck in his hands, which crackle with lightning he sends roaring into the thick of the pack of foes. Burning monster is a memorable smell, it turns out, and the screaming while they incinerate seems to go on for forever.

If this was a war zone before, it's an actual hell now, and not because the humans and their civilian charges are losing anymore.

Koumyou Sanzo has arrived, and he isn't fucking around.

Too slow, too slow, too damn slow as a last monster falls squealing and he opens the revolver's chamber, spilling hot casings to the floor with a distant ringing clatter. The whole pack has massed itself and Sanzo's blooded and panting and there's heart to be taken in his defiance, but Devero doesn't want to take heart, he wants everyone to live--

And then, a vision in white enters the field, appearing as if from nowhere as the horde breaks and charges.

Fresh bullets fall from Devero's numb fingers and his own knees are weak enough that he pitches into the frame of the door to support himself. "Koumyou," he whispers, a mere breath lost among the wet sounds of butchery and the screaming of burning monsters. He's not religious, but it could be a prayer of gratitude regardless.

The moment stretches, vertiginous and endless, time dilating as the rush of pure relief lifts him, but it can't stay like that forever. Reality snaps back into focus as meat splatters against the big windows fronting the gas station. Behind him, the civilians scream.

"Stay calm!" he bellows to them, kneeling to scoop the bullets off the floor. "Stay under cover!"

Reloading, he pounds out to join the younger Sanzo, reaching down to haul him to his feet. "Come on," he urges, voice rough. "Up!"

He releases him again immediately, whether he stands or not, and directs his attention outward. Koumyou is here and Koumyou is annihilating the ranks of the monsters but Koumyou is still one man, and Devero will cover him. He raises the gun, and starts trying to pick off the monsters smart enough to withdraw from the immediate massacre.

And they do try to withdraw. More and more of them peel off from the broken assault, easy to pick off -- at least, five, before the gun needs reloading again.

Quite a few remain running when the gun clicks empty... and Koumyou Sanzo, covered in blood that isn't his own, chases them. Tendrils of the sutra lash out and grab ankles, necks, wrists, as Koumyou closes in. Limbs fly, some actively on fire where they land on the ground.

Sanzo is easy enough to haul to his feet, and comes back to his senses immediately to shake Devero's hand off. He's not that sad brat anymore. He wears the Maten on his shoulders like it's nothing.

Doesn't mean he's not glad to see his father, though. Even if Koumyou Sanzo seems rather... unhinged, right now.

(Apparently, Sanzo comes by it honestly.)

So he huffs, and wipes the sword clean on a bit of his robe as the last of the monsters go down, and calls out an arrogant, "It's about time, old man! Did you get lost?"

This fucking gun! Devero grabs more bullets and knocks it open to reload with a snarl. He's already starting to sprint after Koumyou, but by the time he can slap the chamber closed, it's over. He stops so abruptly that his feet skid across the nope it doesn't matter what his feet skid across.

What matters is Koumyou in front of him, drenched in blood and surrounded by rent flesh. Nauseating smoke rises where monster remains burn, incongruously merry amidst the carnage.

His question is a lot softer and a lot gentler than Genjo's when he asks, "Is any of that blood yours?"

Koumyou lifts a bit of his flowing white sleeve that has survived all the bloodshed and wipes his own face clean with it.

"Not a drop," he assures Devero with the same gentle cheer he might discuss eating ice cream for breakfast.

To his son, he shouts back, "You're the young punk who had to be saved by an old man!"

Sanzo's response is an expected, "Hn!" as though offended, but that little smile-smirk is back, under the blood.

On a more serious note, Koumyou adds for Devero, "I felt the Maten go off."

He relaxes visibly, and even manages to smile. His relief is overwhelming enough that he's kind of-- not really thinking about the enormity of what Koumyou's just done.

He offers Koumyou his hand, but pauses before towing him over to Genjo. "That explains your timing," he says thoughtfully. He nods in the direction they'd originally come. "We ran into the first of these a few blocks back that way. Your kid saved my ass from one and cleared 'em out of a residential building they were getting into."

"A fully awoken sutra 'pings' anything that senses magic," Koumyou tells him, "and in my case, I was its guardian for about twenty years. So it's still, um... on my... frequency?"

Is this a good attempt at using terms Devero knows?

He's trying, okay?

Koumyou pulls his hand free once they get close to his son, so that he can check him over. He clearly doesn't like what he finds, because he pulls a healing potion from his ARMs band and pushes it into the younger priest's hands. "Drink up!"

And Sanzo does. It's probably not the first potion his master's shoved at him on this world.

"You're still tuned to it," Devero says, nodding. It is a good attempt, he's very proud.

Devero is, perhaps, a little shocked to see the younger Sanzo take the potion without a protest. Maybe he shouldn't be, though. Koumyou is his father. If one of his caretakers from creche was offering him weird medicine he'd be inclined to take it too, especially in the middle of shit like this.

"Me too?" he asks quietly, holding his hand out. He may not be lacerated as Genjo, but that close-range monster swat from earlier was going to be making itself felt soon enough.

One of their civilians peeks out of the gas station. They look a little shell-shocked, staring at the carnage with glazed eyes that probably aren't quite seeing it. "Are... they gone...?"

Sanzo is used to magical healing, the only thing weird about these potions is that they're... well, potions. Healing doesn't come in a bottle on the Sanzos' world, which is a shame because it would be terribly handy if it did. Hakkai's chi can't keep up with everything all the time.

"Oh! Of course," Koumyou pulls another potion out for Devero and hands it over, and goes about checking him over too. Because he can fuss over both of his favorite people.

"They're here," Sanzo tells the civilian, "and there, over there, and... here," he picks a piece of meat out of his golden hair, dropping it in disgust. "But they're not a threat, now."

Even if more came, his master didn't even let any from this batch escape. Sanzo is pretty confident another round would meet the same fate.

Devero knocks the potion back and presents himself simultaneously, letting Koumyou conduct his examination.

In the doorway, the citizen recoils in disgust as they are sort of forced to realize what it is that's scattered and splattered kind of. Everywhere. Outside the door. They swear, and catch the arm of a kid who's come to peer out as well, turning them forcefully away from the sight.

They eye the blood-soaked older Sanzo uncertainly. Pretty much the only thing giving them any reassurance of their own safety right now is the fact that Koumyou's dressed identically to Genjo.

Genjo, by the way, is getting a fucking look for Devero for his callousness. He glances at Koumyou next, giving his Sanzo's arm a squeeze before telling him, "We're trying to escort these people back to the park. I'd better see if there's a back way out of the station for them."

To, you know, avoid the ~~conwetti~~ traumatic sight of the shredded monsters.

Koumyou, of course, finds his son's bullshit funny. "Maaah, you really haven't changed, Kouryuu! You just got taller."

And more comfortable with murder, of course, but that was expected if he survived having the title for very long. Especially inherited from Koumyou, the world's first Sanzo with double duty.

"That was a low bar to pass, master." Sanzo says it so dryly-- is it a joke?

Going by the way Koumyou laughs, it very well may be. "True, true!"

For Devero's suggestion, Koumyou nods, and Sanzo is actually the one to step in his way to stop him, holding the cleaned and sheathed sword out and an empty hand. "Gun."

He's not letting it out of his sight, thanks.

At least someone finds him funny.

Devero stops short, looking from the imperious hand to the sour face and back. He entertains a brief and absolutely childish thought of refusing, but then pushes it forcibly away and gives Sanzo his gun back. "Thanks for the loan," he says, and means it despite his shitty impulse from a moment before.

He takes the sword, but turns and hands it off to Koumyou. It'd be stupid to hang on to something he doesn't actually know how to use when Koumyou's here to cover them.

"I'll meet you around back," he says to the priests, then heads into the building to do the part he's actually good at: reassure and herd the civilians.

Sanzo can smell that impulse, and narrows his eyes until the gun is back in his hand.

(You don't want to have made him take it from you, Devero. Good choice not doing that.)

Koumyou is either oblivious to this under-current, or is ignoring it. Who can say? He has no objection to Devero's plan, at least, and moves to lead his son around to the back of the building where the carnage hadn't quite reached.

Mostly. Might still be a stray bit of meat here and there back here.

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So Familiar a Gleam: Finale

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