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Docility
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By Syrubis (Hyenism)
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Updated THURSDAYS Every Second Week
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Notes from the Author
Megamind thought he was prepared for Metro Man's downfall but when the city finally takes matters into their own hands it's up to Roxanne to save the idiots life. Now that she's imprisoned him with a promise to be the obedient dog he has no idea what to do with himself, that's until Roxanne shows him she's not as sane as he once thought and Metro City discovers they have more than one Villain to deal with, it's just unfortunate they disposed of one to gain another even more unpredictable.
(This story is from the perspective of the sinister Megamind, for more Fanfiction check out Insecurities, or from the perspective of Roxanne check out Noir et Bleu)
I was thinking about what to classify this as, it's not really an evil Roxy/Megamind but there will be some rather dark parts so I guess I'll just call them… Crazy :3 Completely and utterly barking mad and we'll even throw in some loopy. Plenty of spontaneous murder and luffy duffy fluff. Just to make y'all hate me. Seriously, this story is going to have no reason for some of the madness, sure there'll be a story behind it but I plan on straying into "what the collective f's and why?" territory pretty often, that's just how I roll. XD
I answer all reviews at the bottom of the chapters, and though I try to avoid spoilers I cannot guarantee that there won't be any so keep this in mind if you decide to read them. I'll answer any questions to the best of my abilities but if for whatever reason you don't find a reply to your review then it will be under the following chapter or I've decided not to reply. (Usually for harsh criticism or the review didn't seem to need any sort of reply.)
After reviews on appropriate chapters there will be a small section devoted to facts on the criminal mind and how they have been used in the story. Though they will often contain spoilers I recommend reading those if certain parts get confusing. A lot of people don't know these things, it's not common knowledge, and while obvious to some readers many actions can seem pointless and won't make clear sense.
WARNINGS
There will be graphic gore, violence, langue and sexual scenes and themes alone the lines of abuse, murder, torture and several other troubling topics along with good old fashioned fluff and sexual frustration. I can assure you that there are some people who just won't like it, and then some who will have their demented bone thoroughly tickled... If any of these things offended you than just don't read, no angry comments or horrid reviews. If you don't like it, don't tell me. If on the other hand you like it but have CONSTRUCTIVE criticism than please! I'm not going to get any better if you don't point out my flaws! I'm here to get better not protect my delicate ego.
When I write I don't really go back and review properly, I check for spelling errors and grammar, give it a quick once over to see if it flows okay than pack and ship! It means I tend to not have my work as polished as it should be… If you notice anything I'd appreciate it if it was pointed out :3
And lastly, because I wouldn't be me if I didn't ask, review! Tell me if you like it! I don't want to write things that suck and no reviews = suckage with the story! Don't let me suck D:
XD
The Internal Monologues will be in ITALIC
Notes, data or information read will be in BOLD or `Italic`
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Chapter One xXx Nothing to Gain (Part 01)
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Song for Inspiration
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The skies were shrouded in grey as the fires bellow flickered in and out of existence, golden orbs of light floating through the air as they crumbled to nothing and fell like ashen rain. He'd done it, he'd destroyed Metro Man in one final and glorious showdown and now here he was with smoke filling his lungs and blood stinging his eyes. It had been quick, painless, he owed the hero that much. What he hadn't anticipated to such a scale was the reaction of the hellish Metro City. He'd given it all he had but he just didn't have enough. That's why he was here, huddled behind a bin in the putrid smelling alleys of the poverty stricken lower towns. He'd run like a coward, hidden like one and now he was surely dying.
Sirens whistled down the main streets, the last of the flames drowned in under a minute while angry civilians still marched, many with guns or knives. They were out for blood and had gotten more than enough. Now there would be no more destruction, not from him at least. The world shifted and he suspected his muscles were giving way, the thud of his body as it doubled over giving him no pain, just a new view. It wasn't pleasant like he'd imagined this 'dying' thing to be. No white tunnel, no relatives. He never wanted to die but he'd never feared it, not like he did now. He was scared and he was hurting and there was no one there. He wanted to be with someone. Anyone, but here wasn't a single person on earth who didn't want him to die.
The sound of running feet entered the street, flooding it like a pin drop in a silent room. He thought they would keep going, they didn't. Instead they slowed and rounded his last defense, their owner dropping to their knees before him. A cold hand on his face, pressure on his chest and he was sitting again. He could see the grime covered blue metal of the bin, food clinging to it. He couldn't see who held him, supported him because he couldn't do so himself.
"Don't even think about it." Came a feminine growl, it was familiar but not identifiable.
"I'm pretty sure you're thinking about it enough for the both of us." He croaked in reply. "You want me to die slower?"
"Just shut up and get moving."
"Where?" he hissed through gritted teeth as he was pulled to his feet. The pressure on his chest grew more painful and it felt as though there was something pushed against his side.
"Come on, I've got you." She said gently but the desperation in her voice was unmistakable.
He dragged his feet, one after the other and allowed himself to be guided, most of his weight supported but the smaller figure beside him. Pitiful, so very pitiful. His lids were heavy, his vision blurred as though he was trying to see things at the entrance to a long dark tunnel. His body felt numb and he was only just aware of the pungent liquid that clung to his skin, silken, smooth and warm.
The longer they ran the more he felt like he was being dragged. She was buckling beneath his weight and he felt briefly guilty. Was this a rescue? Was this the person he'd longed to be with him as he died? Who were the gods to answer his call after all he'd done? The figure stumbled and he tried to wedge his feet in place to stop their fall, it did naught and the two collided with cold, hard stone.
"Who… Who are you?" he grunted, turning his head till dull green met vibrant blue. He knew those eyes better than anyone, but why? Why here? Why now? "M-Miss Ritchie?"
"Hold on, you're going to be okay." She soothed, pulling him onto her lap and calling toward the street. "He's here! I've got him!" she waved someone over.
"Grab his arm, we- o…"
The world melded together, spinning into an abyss that was intent on leaving nothing behind. Words joined together, voices got lost. Any recognition he had of the people around him disappeared and all too quickly there was nothing.
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The air was cold, biting at his heated flesh and causing his body to recoil slightly with each icy breeze. He couldn't tell where his limbs were, couldn't move them. His body felt like it had rolled into a sphere and he couldn't tell what went where. There were voices but he couldn't pinpoint their location. What happened? Where was he? He struggled to remember what he was doing last, the most recent point that he could recall was an explosion, the one he caused. Then gun fire. He'd been hiding and then there where steps, a gentle voice. Roxanne, she'd found him and dragged him away from the fire. She'd saved him? Why? He was evil, he'd killed her lover, among many others. The whole city seemed like it had gone up in flames, there were so many screams, so much fear.
Something moved beside him, a twitch followed by another. Was that his arm? He tried to move something, anything, and again the thing beside him shuddered with the effort. He tried to open his eyes but everything felt heavy, like they hadn't seen use in a long time.
Where was he?
Roxanne? He asked the darkness, asked but made no noise. He tried to find his tongue but it was numb, virtually immovable as were his lips. He suspected any noise he tried to make would come up in nothing but a gurgle. The sounds all around him faded in and out, on and off but they settled the longer he lay there, at least he thought he was laying. In all honesty he could have been tied up and hanging from the ceiling and wouldn't have the slightest idea.
"Good morning Sir!" came an unusually chipper voice from an unknown direction. It faded slightly at random intervals and the result was an almost robotic tone. He inhaled deeply, his chest shuddered, but there was still no noise. Several moments later something sharp pierced the skin of his arm and it felt as though liquid ice was inserted into his veins, he flinched.
"What was that?"
"I'm not sure…"
There was another sharp jab, more liquid ice. Again his body flinched.
"Is that a response? Is he conscious?"
"You'd know better than I."
His eyelids flickered, a slit of white so dominating he was forced to wedge them closed again. Bright, far too bright.
"Megamind?" a voice asked, something warm touching his brow.
"R-Ritchie." He acknowledged, his voice crackling and painful, he felt something slide down the back of his throat and soon identified it as blood. He'd meant to say more but his body just wasn't willing to comply.
"Sir! Sir!" squealed the other voice, Minion. It had to be. His eyelids fluttered again and once more the light burnt his eyes, he ignored it, forcing them wider until the blurred roof above him began to take form. They were steady for a moment but they began to roll back. He closed his eyes again.
"Take it easy, you'll hurt them." Roxanne soothed and a damp cloth was placed over them, she seemed to be wiping at his cheeks too, his eyes must have been watering. "You can hear us, right?"
"Hmm." He murmured, flexing his fingers in her direction.
"Good, I'm glad. They were damaged from the sound of the explosion, I did my best but I'm certainly no doctor."
He considered this for a minute, concentrating on various noises to assure his hearing was the same as he remembered it. His left was not as good as his right, things sounded murky, dull. Infection, one Roxanne had already started treating. Roxanne continued.
"You were hurt bad, I couldn't do much for the scarring-"
Sensitive skin along his ribs, stomach, upper back, cheek.
"But they've healed fairly well, not completely though so I've had to give you antibiotics and painkillers pretty often-"
The liquid ice, she'd been adjusting the drip. Explains the numbness and difficulty locating parts of his body.
"I was worried your body would reject them but Minion told me how you've treated yourself over the years. He's been very helpful."
No grunting of heavy metal, no whirr of a motor. Minion was in the room but had no body. Splash of water, tink as minion got too close to the glass. His bowl was intact but the machine damaged beyond Roxanne's capabilities to repair it. Beyond Minions, possible completely destroyed. Minion was fine.
"I would have used your medicines, I'm sure they're more advanced than ours but the lair…"
Destroyed, too, no doubt.
"She salvaged a lot of it though!" Minion interrupted enthusiastically. He smirked and could hear Roxanne's breath of relief.
"Don't force yourself to move too soon. I'll get you some more pillows and help prop you up, will you be okay by yourself for a minute."
"Hmm."
"Alright, won't be long." She chirped as she hurried from the room. He risked opening his eyes again, blinking and squinting for several minutes as he waited for everything to clear and his eyes to stop hurting.
The ceiling was fairly high, concrete with long neon bulbs which indicated that he was in some sort of garage. The metal shelves and hanging tools he could see vaguely from the corner of his eye backed up this theory but he was still too weak to sit up and fully take in his surroundings. He struggled to lift his arm, the weight of it feeling as though it were tied down but after several attempts he was able to move it and rest it on his stomach, feeling around with semi-numb fingers for the wounds he knew would be there. Unfortunately everything had already been bandaged and he was unable to analyze them himself. He'd have to trust Roxanne and Minion did an exceptional job, though he was alive. That was probably evidence enough.
His mind was catching up quickly, the blank spots in his memory filling in full colour animation. Even the moments leading up to what he was sure would be death seemed crystal clear, too perfect really. Details he'd missed at the time so obvious he felt ashamed. He could recall each moment like a photo, could smell the bin he hid behind like a coward, the red blood that coated his blue skin. Roxanne had come to his rescue, it was to her that he owed his life. A debt he could never repay. What would she ask of him? What could he do worthy of such a… Kind act. No, that wasn't right…
Kind, the act itself was kind, generous, charitable towards I, myself, the one requiring charitiy. Pittiful, she took pity, pathetic creature in need of assistance, aid, help, help doing what I could no longer accomplish on my own. For gratitude, praise, benefit, profit, to owe a debt as great as one's life, used against me, blackmail, bribery, extortion, extortionist. Blackmailer. Criminal. Immoral. Dishonest… Deceitful… Underhanded. The act of kindness was a lie from a devious and scheming woman to which I owe no debt. Other than the debt of my life to which she has yet to ask to be settled.
He groaned as his mind restarted, attempting to figure it all out again but still coming to the same conclusion. What did she earn from this? What could he do that would profit her in any way? The door swung open again, thudding shut behind the set of feather-light steps that indicated she wasn't wearing shoes. Her clothing sounded soft, light, comfortable and therefore not public clothing which only lead him to the conclusion that he was in or near a place of comfort, her or a friend's home but since the friend had yet to appear he leaned towards the idea of being in her own home.
This woman who hated him prior to the destructive events of last night, no, his wounds were closed and healing, his body tired. Two weeks. Two weeks since the death of her love and she had opened her home, assumingly on the night of the explosion to the very man responsible with no apparent hopes of profit or getting even. She tended his wounds, kept him alive, prolonged his suffering? No, he was in no pain though he should have been, therefore she was preventing it. Taking care of him. Care…
"Hey, I got some pillows and another blanket, it's fairly warm in here and we've been keeping your chest uncovered so it doesn't get all gross but I'm always more comfortable with a blanket, especially when I'm sick. It's actually one of yours to be honest, it was so pretty I didn't want to leave it behind and Minion said it was your favorite. We didn't give this one to you at first because you just kept bleeding-"
Rambling, a sign of nervousness, unease. She was uneasy in his presence, only now that he was conscious. Excessive bleeding, medical condition, low iron, Anemia. No longer an issue, cured, healed, fixed, repaired.
"Alright hold on a second" she said and he suddenly felt warm hands around his shoulder, pressed against his chest as she moved him and slid something under his back. He wanted to jerk way, to yell at her, warn her never to touch him as his whole body set alight, screaming in protest as her hands seemed to thrum with electric heat. He grimaced, his fingers twitching as they tried to take hold of anything they could, his arms still dead weight. She let him settle, moved her hands away and stepped back. The places where she'd been felt like a blister was forming beneath them. He shuddered.
He could see the room now, he was right, it was a garage. His bed had been shoved against the far wall where he could see the rolling shutter, the cold cement walls and floor and all around him damaged machines, burnt remnants of his home. All this he knew to be his own. Not even half but enough to fill the area, and enough to tell him it would have taken considerable effort to even save this.
He tilted his head slightly, his gaze fixing firmly to the woman before him. She was wearing baggy sweat pants and a singlet, her hair hanging to the nape of her neck; longer than he'd last seen it. Three weeks. Her eyes were bloodshot a ringed with grey, Sleep Deprivation. Her hands where scrapped, her nails unkempt, Hard Labor. She stepped back uneasily, weight uneven as she forced it towards her left rather than her right, her leg lifted subtly from the floor, even, the injury was to her leg and not her foot. She smiled, her mouth was dry. Dehydration. She was thin Malnutrition. She was Stressed.
"How… How are you feeling?" she asked, her eyes narrowing slightly in concern. She was worried, fearful. She didn't like him hurt? Sick? Incapable of taking care of himself.
"Fine" he hissed, the strain on his vocals considerably more painful than he expected.
"I'm sorry about the lair, Sir." Minion said sadly, he was sitting on a bench near his bed, wide eyed. Also concerned. Different dome, she'd bought him a new bowl.
"S'fine" he said again, swallowing dryly.
"Here." Roxanne was suddenly close again, her hands cradling a small glass of water which he attempted to take. "No, don't, you can barely move, you'll hurt yourself." She scolded, lifting the edge to his lips. "I kept you hydrated as best I could but you've been out for way too long, little sips or you'll choke."
He leaned his head away but had virtually nowhere to go but into the cushions, eventually he complied, parting his lips enough to let a trickle of water flood his mouth, it was cold. Delicious, but difficult to swallow. She moved away sooner than he'd like.
"Don't overdo it." She warned, holding the cup a short way from him before bringing it back once she deemed he'd waited enough. He tried for a bigger mouthful this time and it just splashed down his chin, she sighed and wiped it away, her eyes growing with concern again. The trails of her fingers burning.
"Don't" he said flatly, leaning away when she attempted to give him more water.
"Okay." She replied hesitantly. "Did… Did you want me to leave? I'm sure you'd like some time alone with-"
"No… You… Can stay." He whispered. It was getting easier to talk. He didn't want her to go. Such weakness. He was vulnerable, she already knew that. She could stay.
His eyes fluttered slightly and she sighed. "Get some rest."
"Stay" he repeated and she smiled. Minion smiled too. He blinked a few more times before his eyelids grew too heavy and he struggled to continue staring at them, it was a battle lost before it had even begun and he fell asleep almost instantly.
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His mind slowly pulled itself from the abyss that was sleep, heavy and confusing as it was. He didn't open his eyes yet but he was instantly aware of the warmth tracing his cheek. Back and forth, back and forth. It burnt trails along his flesh.
Touching, Stroking, Caressing. A romantic action? He sorted through all the times he'd seen it until he remembered a scene fitting this. A mother waiting for her child to wake up from a coma. Mothering, Maternal. Comforting, kind. She was concerned for him, trying to comfort him even though she thought he wasn't aware. He was confused.
"What… Doing?" he coughed, his eyelids fluttering open to see her weary face. She still wasn't sleeping.
"Just checking on you." She replied guiltily, leaning away. She was sitting next to him with her legs hanging over the edge of the bed. The bed smelt of her. She wasn't sleeping well. He was in her bed. Self Sacrifce?
"Where are you sleeping?" he asked, well demanded really. It wasn't as intimidating as he expected because his voice crackled.
"Er… On the couch."
"Why?"
"You're in the bed."
"Why?"
"You need it more than I do and if you ask why one more time I'm going to hit you."
"Why?" he asked again, a tone of his usual sarcasm. She smiled.
There was several moment of silence before Roxanne spoke again. "I thought you might not wake up again." She confessed, looking away.
"How long… Did I sleep?"
"Eight hours."
"You sat there?"
"Well, I did use the bathroom once."
"Why?"
"Well when humans drink-" she started, amusement twitching at her lips.
"Why stay, I'm the- The bad guy." He interrupted, still finding it hard to talk.
"Yes you are, and you asked, remember?."
"Good guys don't watch bad guys." He croaked.
"Well I guess it's a good thing I'm not a good guy, hey? Or a bad thing I guess, a good thing I'm a bad guy, good for me maybe…"
Rambling, unease, aversion of eye contact, guilt, clenching of hands, anger.
"Why are you guilty?"
"Don't ask questions that don't concern you" she said dully.
Defensive, slightly hostile and ashamed. Murder?
The two sat in silence for some time, Roxanne offered him water on occasion but for the most part they just sat and stared at the door, the junk and the overall depressive room he found himself in. Something felt as though it were looming, waiting for the right moment to strike but whatever it was he just couldn't figure it out and one glance at the reporter beside him suggested she just wanted to forget. She seemed beyond troubled.
"Can you… Help…' he started, unsure of how to ask for her aid in such a matter. "The bathroom." He eventually croaked.
"Oh, umm, right. Okay, hang on." She slid from the chair and was instantly fussing around his shoulders, lifting his chest slightly till he was sitting completely, her arm the only thing supporting him. Was she going to carry him? No, he wasn't going to have that, besides she was hurt, too.
"Don't-"
"Hang on, I'm just going to get minion, he can't fit through the door so I'll have to get you into the hall myself." She said, almost bolting towards the small wooden door beside the bed. He tried to call after her but she was gone so fast he was left with whiplash.
The imprints of her hands still tingling. He wasn't going to just sit there while everyone carried him around. He didn't rely on anyone, ever. He didn't need to. Working up his strength he swung he legs over the edge of the bed. They were heavy and sore and he had trouble placing his feet flat on the cold ground but determination of the mind could always overcome the body and he was most certainly determined. In this position he could see the amount of weight he'd lost. His muscle dangerously diminished. Muscle Atrophy. It would be difficult to move at all but he just needed to make it to the 'hall'.
Staggering to his feet he supported himself with the edge of the chair, willing strength to his legs that just wasn't there. He ignored it and attempted a step, he was shaky and unbalanced but when he let go of the chair and didn't plummet to the ground he took this as a good sign.
He stretched his arms in front of him, feeling the strain of unused muscles as he clenched and unclenched his hands, curled his toes and took another uneasy step followed by another. He wasn't exactly agile but he made it to the door with no issues and eventually pulled the handle and let the door fall open.
Roxanne and Minion where both standing down the corridor, hall. Minion's suit was working but clearly damaged, definitely too big to fit through the door.
"Sir! What are you doing?! You're going to hurt yourself." Minion squealed, rushing forward.
"Nonsense" he smirked, winking towards Roxanne who looked both worried and a little irritated. Minion snaked a metal arm around his waist which certainly helped for support and he instantly slumped into his friends guidance.
"Don't be so stubborn, you can't just get up and start walking around whenever you feel like. You're body has been through a lot, it needs time to recover." Roxanne said sternly, crossing her arms but maintaining the concerned glint in her blue eyes.
"I'm aware." He huffed defensively, being navigated closer to the woman.
"Mhmm" she grumbled as the two passed her by.
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The next few days were spent mainly in bed, he wasn't allowed any freedom and Roxanne had insisted on helping him eat and drink for the first couple of meals. He recovered quickly, however, and after a few more days of being able to stand and make his way, almost on his own, to the bathroom she finally agreed to let him shower. He was clean, cleaner than he should be and he dreaded to think how many times she'd taken care of this issue herself but thankfully since he'd been awake she'd let him take care of most things on his own. Like wiping his own chin for one.
She escorted him carefully towards the bathroom door, he could hold most of his own weight now but the extra support was very much welcomed, the touching involved however still proved a difficult concept for him to grasp. He couldn't understand why she didn't recoil or appear in any way uncomfortable, he on the other hand could feel her touch for hours after and wasn't able to decide if it was comforting or irritating.
Leading him into the cold room she allowed him to lean against the basin as she began pouring him a bath, the steamy water fogging up the mirrors instantly. While it was running he decided on working on his shirt, a white button up thing he detested though she claimed it was so she could tell if he split any wounds. He was sure it was some sort of joke between her and minion but had let her excuse stand. His fingers shook as he attempted to undo the first button and he'd only been attempting for about a minute before much smaller hands pushed his aside and Roxanne started working her way down the top, each button sliding out gracefully with minimum resistance.
His body tensed as her eyes continued, locked onto his shirt.
Uncomfortable. Awkward. Embarrassing. He couldn't pinpoint the reason for his sudden unease but decided that her helping him undress was certainly not an option. He grabbed her wrists and she looked up confused.
"I was just-"
"Don't." he said flatly, resuming the unfinished task on his own, still unsuccessfully one might add. Roxanne stepped back slightly and eventually sighed with acceptance before turning back to the bath. He continued his failing attempt.
Feeble, useless, inept, pathetic. Pitiful.
"Oh just let me help you." She laughed, smacking away his hands gently as she continued where she'd left off. He stepped back, again pushing her hands away.
"I'm not incompetent." He growled, she looked even more confused than before.
"I never said you were…"
"You can leave."
"You're having trouble, just let me-"
"No, why do you seem so keen on taking my clothes off, Miss Ritchie?" He said, quirking his eyebrows though it did naught to relieve him of the uneasy feeling in his chest.
"Why are you so shy about losing them." She countered. "If it helps I've already-"
"Okay, you can go, out, shoo, be gone with you." He smirked, shooing her away as she made a few quick steps towards the door, she turned back with a smirk that certainly rivaled his own.
"Coward."
"Pervert."
She laughed and slid from the room, shutting the door behind her. He didn't hear her footsteps down the hall. She was still by the door, she'd probably stay there until he was done. He continued struggling with his shirt.
"Still not off is it?" Roxanne called in some ten minutes later, he almost snarled.
"No." he huffed, dropping his hands in an almost childish hissy fit.
"Willing to let me help you now?" she laughed through the door.
"Pretend I'm not willing and you're giving me no choice." He grumbled as she let herself back in.
"Oh, so you're into role-play?"
"Because of all my fantasies this is the one I'd pick to enact with you."
"I'm sure I could play the role well. Or if you really want to go for something better I've got a nurse outfit."
"And why have you not been wearing this?" he chuckled, his body tensing again as she helped him with his shirt.
"Now who's the pervert?"
"Who's the one forcefully undressing me?"
Roxanne grinned devilishly, sliding the shirt over his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. He shuddered slightly and was glad it was completely lost to the reporter. "There, all done. Was it good for you?" she said with a rather suggestive smile.
"Minx. Now get out." He smirked.
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Chapter End ~
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