The whole island felt new, so silent and peaceful, like the war was a bad cough that when it cleared its throat, the island was able to breath again. The same can't be said for its occupants. There was still civil unrest between the townsfolk and the tribe, though not as bad as it was when they were fighting the pirates. And somehow, tourists were still coming to the island. She thought with the downfall of the pirates, they couldn't continue to lure in oblivious outsiders. That belief was proven wrong when some of the scouts reported new waves of tourists visiting their supposedly 'off the maps' island. She didn't understand where they were coming from, until Dennis suggested that the townsfolk were advertising the island the same way the pirates were, but for a different reason. Money. They needed money to buy weapons and supplies for their rebellion.
The currency on the island was U.S dollars thanks to the war. Citra didn't approve, but they had to buy weapons, ammunition, supplies, medicine, and to get that they had to pay for it. Since the dollar was universal, it made things easier to buy weapons from any part of the world from private businesses, organizations, and even from governments. There was some she could name off the top of her head: Golden Triangle from China, Abstergo Industries from America, Republic of UMEC from the Middle East, and the Royal Army from some Asian country.
Shops struggled to stay open without the flow of income, and with no consumers their small economy was slowly falling apart. Of course the townsfolk would advertise the island, probably giving the same bullshit the pirates were spewing out. What bothered her was why the villagers teamed up with the pirates. More man support? Experience? Revenge? Those were probabilities. She knew a lot of Vaas' men wanted out, tried to escape the island a few times. Citra made sure none of them even made it past the farther mini islands. She stationed some of her men at each port, and boats circled the island daily. She could give the order to turn back tourists, but in truth, they needed the money. They were in debt, not immensely, but it had to be paid off. And the Rakyat needed more weapons to take on the mercs on the Southern Island.
Despite Volker being dead, the mercenaries remained holed up on the island; turning it into a fortress. It wasn't impenetrable, but it's damn well close to being. Rakyat boats got blown to pieces when in a mile of the shore, and they don't have a plane to land on the airfield, though that would be destroyed before even touching ground. They were like rats hiding in the hole in the wall, nowhere to go. If they tried to escape, it would mean certain death. So they stay in place, safe but constantly terrorized by the savages.
Citra didn't understand. They come storming in on there island, spitting on it and slaughtering the residents with much bravado, and now they're hiding, too afraid to die. The Rakyat were willing to die for their home. These men- no, not men, they are less than men. They're cowards, and they all deserve to die. And she won't stop with them. She'll find their friends, their families (if they even have one), and kill them too. She'll make them all regret ever destroying her home. Her life, her father, her brother. She'll make them all pay.
"The child has the heartbeat of a tiger." The Shaman said, straightening up from her stomach. "He will be healthy and strong. It is in his blood."
"How do you know it is a boy?" Citra said, and the look in her eyes made the Shaman think of his response very carefully.
"It.. it could be a girl too. The gods have not graced me with that insight yet." He said, "But I advise, like any woman, to rest when carrying a child. You must be very careful-"
"You mean no fighting." She said, getting irritated with the witch doctor's hesitation.
"Yes." He said.
"Unacceptable. I have a rebellion to deal with, I cannot just sit and do nothing when I am needed." Citra said, "And if my child is a strong as you say it is, then it will survive."
Dennis cleared his throat, gaining the attention of the two. "I can handle the rebels. That is why I am here Citra. I serve you and I will take on any duties. The witch doctor is right, you must rest and think of your baby. It is too dangerous out there for the two of you."
The Rakyat queen snorted and waved her hand. "Leave me alone, I must think." The Shaman bowed and rushed out of the room, but Dennis stayed. Citra raised a brow, "Did you not hear me?" Dennis looked hesitant to say whatever he got in his mind and she snapped. "What is it? Tell me or leave."
"It is about... the boy." He said.
"What boy?" Citra asked absentmindedly, not really paying attention to what he was saying. Her hand rested on top of her slightly curved stomach. It felt warm, uncomfortably so, and deep inside her she felt anxious and she could taste hysteria on the tip of her tongue, or it could be the acid she threw up in the morning.
"The boy. Jason's younger brother." He clarified.
"What." She snapped her head to look at Dennis, her hands clenching. "What are you talking about?" She demanded, "I had him killed." She did, she saw it. Vaas- no, no Jason, she saw him kill the young boy. She saw it clear as day.
It was Dennis' turn to look puzzled, and he shook his head. "No. You ordered for him to be locked up and he has been, for almost a month now."
Citra felt sick, and her head spun. No, it couldn't be. She- she saw him die. How was this- how was this possible? She would remember such a crucial decision. She would... she would...
"What..." She muttered, trying to get a grasp of this information.
"Should I leave him locked up still?" Dennis inquired.
"No!" She yelled. "No, I- I must see him. Where is he?"
"In the sacrificial chamber."
She got up from the bed and left the room, Dennis following behind her. She glanced at the red curtains hiding what was inside the room across from hers, wondering what he was doing. She wanted to see, but she had to see this boy she thought a ghost.
The sacrificial chamber was dark and dank, only lit by torches hooked onto the walls. Moaning and soft crying were the only sounds in this room, because everyone here knows there is no hope, and their end will only be met with death. They passed the Rakyat's prisoners, stuck curled up in their cages, praying they won't be the next one to be dragged away never to be seen again. Dennis stopped at the last cage and raised the torch higher. A flash of legs and Citra saw a person scramble away from the light and into a corner where he curled up into a ball. He wore no shoes, his feet dirty and his pants were ripped along with his shirt that barely clung on to his body; his hair a messy mop and she could see how skinny he was.
"Let me in." She ordered, and one of the guards unlocked the cage. The creak of the cage swinging open had no effect on the boy, and he remained in his position. Citra found this odd. Did the possibility of escaping not entice the boy one bit, or did he try so many times, so many times he failed, that he found no use in trying anymore. Did this place really break him so easily? He wasn't strong like his brother, his spirit too weak unlike Jason's.
Citra approached him slowly and crouched down. "Riley." She whispered, brushing her fingers through his hair. The boy flinched and looked at her startled. For a moment, one horrifying moment, she thought it was Jason looking at her, but his eyes were brown, not green. A dull, dead brown. There were deep bags under his eyes, and his cheeks were hollow, a severe result of starvation. He looked like he hadn't seen the sun in weeks, which was pretty much what happened.
"Nngh!" He cried out some unintelligible noise from the back of his throat, and scuttled away from her. Citra stayed where she was, and observed him.
"You live. You breath. You're not a ghost." She said.
"Y-you!" Riley stuttered, and it sounded rough, like he hasn't spoken in a long time.
Citra could still see Jason thrusting the knife up under the boy's jaw. Could still see the blood..
"Where's Jason! Where is my bother? What did you do to him!?" Riley shouted, lunging at her. Citra wasn't alarmed, and it was too easy, slamming him down and pinning him with her knee pressed down on his neck. She was wrong, he still had some spirit inside his frail body. She only got off when the boy's face turned red and he started choking, his fingers grabbing desperately at her leg. He sucked in air, his face returning to it's normal color. She peered down at him, and when she squinted, Riley looked almost like Jason.
Jason.
Jason. Jason.
"Where is he? What did you do to him?" Riley said once he caught his breath, and she laughed. She found it so funny... how sad... how funny.
"You love him?" She said and she didn't understand. She just didn't UNDERSTAND. "He- he killed your friends mother, and- and yet you still ask for him? You still care?"
Riley looked shaken up, and there was fear in those dead eyes- once dead? No more? And now there is a fire engulfing those eyes.
"He didn't know what he was doing. You, you did something to him!" Riley spat. She could tell he wanted to hurt her, and she knew just like he did that he was too weak. There was nothing he could do. "Where is he? I want to see him." He demanded instead.
A smile spread on her face, masking the flash of pain in her chest. "Such loyalty. Why?"
"Because I'm his brother. Because we're family, something you would never understand."
Her eyes flashed dangerously, and with a shaky hand she rubbed her thumb gently against his cheek, while her other dipped into one of the pouches strapped to her waist and grabbed a handful of the powdered drug. She blew it on his face, and he coughed, his face scrunching up.
"He betrayed you." She said coldly, "He left you, for me."
"Shutup!" Riley cried, blinking rapidly as the drug worked through his system. "He didn't, he would never do that!"
She laughed cruelly, "He never loved you Riley. You meant nothing to him."
Riley screamed and tears streamed down his face. "SHUTUP, SHUTUP, SHUTUP!"
"It's the darkness, it's tearing you apart." Citra drawled on in a mad mutter. "You lost, accept it. Embrace it, and you will be free!" How could he not see? It was right there, in front of his eyes!
"This is fucking insane. This isn't happening, god this can't be happening." Riley moaned.
Citra sat down and closed her eyes.
"He misses you so much." She said, and there was something strange forming in her mind. " He needs your help, Riley. He needs you to save him."
"What the fuck did you do to him?"
"No," She said, "It's what you did to him. You drove him away Riley. It's all your fault."
Riley was out of it, his head lolling from side to side, and his speech became slurred. "No, no you did this.. you did this.."
She bent down, her lips brushing against his ear and whispered, "He's inside me. He's mine."
"Nnnh no..." Riley mumbled, and passed out, his eyes rolling to the top of his head. Citra gazed at his sleeping face, before getting up and leaving the cage. Dennis stayed quiet until they left the chamber, in which then he spoke up.
"You didn't have to go so hard on the boy, and to give him false hope that Jason is ali-"
"What do you mean Dennis?" Citra snapped, and dared him to continue talking. Dennis didn't, and they walked in silence for a bit.
"What will you do with him?" He asked.
"I will set him free." She said, a lost look in her eyes. "Tonight, we celebrate."
An almost full moon was out, and the temple was lively, it's people dancing under the sway of the moon. The beating of drums shook the ground, food filled the air, and blood was spilled. On spikes were the enemies of the Rakyat, spears thrust through their assholes and out from their mouths, all station in a line. At the very top, watching her people like a mindful mother, Citra sat lazily, one leg outstretch and the other propped up on the stone throne, her face hidden behind the skull mask. Dennis stood beside her, holding a wine-filled goblet, taking a sip once in a while.
Offerings were brought to her, stuffed pig, gold, shark fins, a plate of hearts, and many more. They worshiped her, their savior, their goddess. They do not know that Vaas was the true warrior. Vaas is their god, her god. Fools... but they will see in time. A ritual dance began, and the men danced, coated in blood of their enemies, and wore the skin of their faces as masks.
"They dance to impress you." Dennis said.
"Impress me?" She echoed.
Dennis nodded, "You are... with child and you don't have a husband."
"And who says I need a man to raise my child." Citra scoffed, sneering at the very idea. Dennis went quiet, and she knew exactly what he was implying.
"I can be that man." Dennis said quietly, "I love you."
"I don't need anyone." She said bluntly. It wasn't the truth, Vaas, gods, she needed him. And he was going to be the one to raise their child together. If she was honest, brutally honest, this isn't what she wanted... she wanted..
It doesn't matter what she wants anymore.
"I will be here for you Citra, no matter how long I will have to wait." Dennis said.
"Check on the sacrifices Dennis. I don't want any mistakes for tonight." She replied. He stood there, and eventually he left. After all these years he still loved her, even though she will never feel the same way back. It wasn't his fault really, it just cannot be. She already loved someone else from the day she first saw him, and she knew she and Vaas were meant to be together, forever. It just is.
One of her men trotted up the stairs and kneeled before her. "There are outsiders at the gate."
She sat up, slightly alarmed, "Rebels?"
"No. They are different, they come from across the ocean, on an airplane."
Citra frowned, "Who are they? Why are they here?"
"Their informer tells us they are here for business. They wish for an audience with you."
She sat back, thinking. Outsiders coming from across the sea? Could this be the people Vaas warned her about? Maybe not, but if so.. she wasn't dumb. A possible enemy could be prevented with deals and compromises. They want to talk business, then they shall. And if she didn't like them, then the outsiders will join the sacrifices for tonight.
"Let only six in and bring them to me. I will hear what they have to say." Citra ordered, and the man jogged off to do as she said. Now this will be interesting. In the distance she saw the gates open, and a few people come in. The music stopped, and the crowd parted as the same man who informed her of the outsiders led a spectacle of a group to her. There were six men as ordered, possibly the rest waiting outside. They looked foreign, clearly not a part of the rebels or the pirates. These men looked professional, and the only similarities they shared with the pirates were their color choice, red.
Four of them were soldiers, dressed the same as each other, with basic standard armor. One, was a man who didn't wear armor nor a helmet, instead he looked like the informer, the negotiator, the talker. And the last...
The last man caught her attention the most. He was the last one in the group, walking behind the others. He, like the negotiator, dressed differently from the soldiers. This man wore a peculiar mask that covered his face entirely, leaving no hint as to what he looked like underneath. The mask itself was hideous, a red smiling demon with curved teeth and a flat nose. A hood covered the rest of his head, and Citra realized that not one inch of his skin showed. If she weren't so observant, she would have missed him. A wolf hiding between the sheep's. When the group came to a stop before the stairs, the masked man stood behind them, as if he were hiding, or taking the attention away from himself. Citra never once took her eyes off the masked man, even when the negotiator started talking.
"I am Colonel Len Khysir of the Royal Army. I come under our great King Min's order regarding the man named - Hoyt Volker - and his whereabouts. We tried going to him himself, but we were shot down, and that is when your men found us and brought us here." Colonel Len said.
Citra cocked her head and squinted her eyes.
"I do not speak to soldiers. I will only speak to the one in charge." She bellowed.
Colonel Len looked confused. "I am the one in charge your highness."
She sneered, "Don't try to trick me Colonel. Fine, if you won't speak then I will have you all killed for intruding in our celebration."
"But! I am the one in charge!" The Colonel sputtered, his face going red. A gloved hand landed on his shoulder, and the Colonel stepped back flabbergasted as the masked man stepped forward. Citra sat up, interested at the turn of events. It seemed that the Colonel actually thought he was the one in charge.
"I am not the leader of this group." The masked man said, and Citra raised a brow. How curious, his voice sounded odd, almost robotic. A voice-changer perhaps? Who is this man, who hides himself and the true sound of his voice.
"What is your name?" Citra called. He didn't answer immediately, was he hesitant to?
"Yalung." He said finally.
Yalung, she mouthed. "No last name?"
"I do not have one."
Citra got up, and walked down the steps slowly, staring at Yalung. When she reached the bottom she strode right up to him and like Jason so, so long ago she examined the man, circling him slowly.
"Why are you here" She said, returning to stand in front of him.
"We come in search of Hoyt Volker."
"Why?"
"Volker is business partners with the nation of Kyrat. He has missed shipments for a month, and has not responded to our communicators." Yalung said curtly.
"So they send you to find out what happened." Citra finished.
"That is our mission." He said.
"You must know a lot about what happened here?" Citra asked, determining whether to kill them now or work something out.
As if he knew what she was thinking, Yalung said, "We do not know specifics, and we do not care. All we need is Hoyt Volker."
"That would be impossible." Citra said.
"Why?"
"Because he's dead." She said, "And so will all of you be."
In a flash, her warriors drew their spears and guns, while the outsiders formed a circled with their guns drawn out. Yalung was the only one who didn't move an inch.
"The other island is where Volker's headquarters are. It must have been your island too." He said calmly, as if he were not going to be killed in a matter of seconds. "You can have it back, and more."
That, that, piqued her curiosity. She turned around slowly and crossed her arms. "I'm listening."
"A deal. I help you take back your island, you spare our lives. Once the island is yours, we can do business together. Continue Volker's work, and you can make billions."
"And what makes you think I care about money?" Citra inquired.
"You don't. But you owe a lot to others." Yalung answered.
Citra squinted her eyes at him, "I thought you didn't know the specifics."
"We don't." He said, "I do."
Citra couldn't remember the last time she was impressed by someone other than Vaas and Jason, and yet this Yalung somehow managed to string words of honey and win her over in the deal. It was too good to pass up, and extra men with experience would be a plus. And paying back her tribe's debts is an extra plus.
"Who are you." She said, letting her curiosity get the better of her.
"I am no one." Yalung answered.
"Everyone is someone." Citra said, "Fine, you have a deal. And since you are here, relax. This is a celebration, and we share it with our allies. A toast!"
The foreigners were brought cups of wine and the music started up again, as did the people. Citra watched Yalung as she drank from her goblet. He did not even accept the drink, and instead stood stoic and still while his partners drank and relaxed, though weary.
"Come with me." Citra said to him. "Only you." She clarified, and she walked up the stairs back to her throne, Yalung silently following behind her. Dennis had returned a while ago, and eyed the masked man inquisitively. "A chair for our guest." She said, and immediately one handmaiden brought a chair. Yalung sat, back straight with fists resting on his widespread lap. Could this man ever relax?
"Are you not thirsty?" Citra asked.
"I do not drink alcohol." Yalung answered.
"How come?" Dennis spoke up, clearly mystified. Again, the masked man hesitated to answer.
"I require all my senses to be a hundred percent clear."
"Then you must be a light-weight when it comes to drinking, no?" Dennis pried. Citra frowned. Why was he acting like this? Rude, and worse, rude to a potentially investing ally.
"Forgive Dennis, he must have had too much to drink." Citra said, sending a quick glare at him.
"Forgiven." Yalung said almost automatically, "In such cases, I am required to built a high tolerance level for any substance, including any type of drink."
"You don't drink for pleasure?" Dennis asked. "What kind of life is that?"
"Pleasure is a momentary experience of the mind. It is not a necessity."
Dennis burst out laughing, "Are you some kind of a philosopher now?"
"No." Yalung said.
Citra, well half of Citra was annoyed at Dennis, and the other half was fascinated by this mystery man. He answered direct and curtly, and she could tell Yalung was only conversing with them out of politeness than true interest. If she didn't know any better, she thought he would actually prefer being alone, like she felt right now. Well, not entirely alone. Just with Vaas.
"Why is your name Yalung? Did you choose it?" Citra asked. How curious, he pauses to answer her questions, as if running it over in his mind. Did he think he would reveal too much of himself? If so why?
"It was given to me, and I have accepted the title." Yalung said.
"What's with the mask? It looks like a demon pig from my homelands." Dennis cut in, and Citra could tell he was clearly drunk. The man didn't know when to stop. She didn't care he got drunk occasionally, but she did now. She was about to reprimand him when Yalung spoke up.
"Where are you from?" The masked man said.
"Liberia! Born and raised in war, then left for America and found myself in another one. A racial one where guns are replaced with racism and bullets replaced with words."
"Africa." Yalung muttered.
"You ever been?" Dennis asked, chugging down the last of his drink.
"Once." Yalung answered him, and said no more of it.
They conversed more about random topics and ideologies. Citra wanted to ask more of his personal life, like if he's ever been to many places all over the world. A traveler, just like Vaas. What new, and exciting things this man must have seen. But the moon was now full, and it is time to begin. Citra stood up and raised her arms to the full moon.
"My people!" She boomed, "Our long, and bloody war for our home has come to an end! No longer shall Pirates terrorize our wife and children! No longer shall Hoyt Volker take away our pride! Our honor! Our destiny!" The crowd roared and she basked in it. "We are no longer the hunted! We are the hunters! And tonight we will hunt our enemies and sacrifice them to our gracious gods as a show of our eternal gratitude!" One of her handmaidens kneeled before her with a plate, and Citra grabbed the heart that lay on it. With the ancestral knife she cut it deeply and raised it above her head and squeezed it, blood spraying on her face and chest. "Bring out the offerings!"
A horn blew, and from the temple emerged the offerings; naked men, all whom were pirates, tied to one singular pole. Only one was not a pirate, and when Riley made eye contact with her, she smiled.
"They thought us savages! Mindless animals!" She roared, pointing at the pirates accusingly with the knife. The crowd booed and threw food at them. "Well if they think us animals, then we shall show them animals!" Citra glided down the stairs, Dennis trying to follow but failing, and Yalung, oddly enough, helped the drunk man down the stairs. She walked to the gates, the offerings being pulled forcefully along. Once outside they placed the men at the edge of the rainforest, just at the line of safety of the dense trees. Citra could feel the anticipation coming from her warriors, and she herself couldn't wait for the hunt to begin, but there was something she had to do first.
She walked to be in front of the sacrificial pigs, and stood before Riley. "Riley, Riley how did you find yourself in this situation. Naked, your pride stripped, and about to die. Don't look at me like that. It's not my fault you're going to die. See from every little decision you've made in your life has brought you here, coming to this island, getting yourself kidnapped by.. Vaas. And your brother, you were supposed to be there for him. And instead, he came running to me. Because he knew I was the only one who could make him stronger. Better."
"Mmmphff." Riley said, but it was muffled by the rag in his mouth. Citra took it off and the boy licked his chapped lips. "Jason is going to stop this. He wouldn't allow this!"
Citra smirked, "Who do you think planned this ceremony?"
"He wouldn't! I don't believe you! Where is he?" Riley yelled, struggling against his bonds.
Citra pressed herself against him and whispered in his ear, "He cared too much to see you being killed, but not too much to stop it."
"He still cares then." Riley whispered, "He still cares, and he's going to stop this. I know he will."
She stepped back, a blank hollow look on her face. It was gone, replaced with a vicious smile.
"I'll give you 30 seconds. If this jungle doesn't eat you up alive, then I will."
Riley was breathing hard when she placed the gag back in his mouth, and his body was already dripping with sweat, fear evident in those brown eyes. She walked back to the gate, standing next to Yalung who had an almost passed out Dennis wrapped around his shoulder.
"Let the hunt, BEGIN!" She yelled, and the horn blew again.
A string was pulled and the ropes that tied the offerings to the singular stick loosened and they were free. Some were confused and stood in place like idiots while the others, especially Riley, took off, but not without a chancing glance behind him, in which Riley once again made eye contact with Citra. There was fear, and yet there was a fire in them now. A promise of death maybe? Or revenge? She didn't care anyways.
As she promised, 30 seconds passed before her warriors took off hollering into the jungle. Citra yearned to participate, but she was pregnant now, and apparently she couldn't strain herself. She remembered when she was younger how the very idea of being pregnant made her sick to her stomach. It still did.
"I will retire to my quarters." She said, turning to Yalung. A wave of her hand and she had Dennis carried away to his house by one of her men. "We will discuss our plans to take over Hoyt's island in the morning. Do you and your men have a place to rest?"
"We have tents we can station outside the temple." He said.
"Good." She walked away and turned around. "If you're thinking of double-crossing me, then tonight's event is an example of what will become of you if you choose to do so."
"Understood." He said, "Goodnight your highness."
Citra nodded and they parted ways.
In the darkness she sat on a chair next to Vaas' sleeping form. He's been sleeping a lot more lately, something that eases her mind, and he's been eating, no more spitting out food on her handmaiden's faces. Despite the progress, they still had to drug him when they had to in cases release him from his bounds. He was still dangerous, to himself and others, and she knew he would try to escape. She knew him.. he was her brother, after all.
Vaas has been coping with his withdrawals, but it wasn't easy. It hurt her so much to see her brother like this, screaming like a madman for something so pathetic. He was so dependent on it, and it hurt her so much. She still remembered the old Vaas, the one who was so strong and confident, and to see him like this... it shatters her very world. But she needed to be strong for him, and help him. She's helping him, sucking out the poison that Hoyt put in him. He needs her, she just knows it.
She got up from the chair and laid on the bed, wrapping an arm around his chest. It felt so nice, being so close to him. Comforting and safe, how did she sleep without it? How did she survive without him?
"I don't do cuddling. Not even after a good fuck." Vaas muttered tiredly.
Citra sat up to see him awake.
"How are you feeling?" She asked.
Vaas stared at her, and stretched his shoulders. "A little bit tight. I have an idea, how about you loosen these ropes and I'll feel better than a virgin after her first fuck." He rolled his head, cracking his neck and shoulders. "I heard the horns. Sacrificed some poor-shit fuckers again?"
"Most will die. A few will live, if any." Citra said, her thoughts traveling back to Riley. By morning she will know if the boy survived. If he didn't, then she would see his body pierced on one of the spears left to rot. If he did...
Citra scooted over to Vaas' left arm and rubbed it gently.
"What is that?" He asked, nodding towards the thing rolled up in her hand. Citra didn't answer him, and instead unrolled it and wrapped it around his arm. She smiled and smoothed it out. Vaas was dead quiet, and then a small chuckle, and then outright laughter.
Because wrapped around his arm, was a pale stretch of skin with all the Tatau inked onto it.
"Runs in the family, doesn't it." Vaas laughed. "Oh Snow White, what did I tell ya?"
We're so fucked.
Ehhhh! I updated... hehe sorry for the long no updating. I hope new and old readers are enjoying this story so far! AND Riley is alive! I think you can see where this is going with him and Citra as they once again play in the roles of the Giant and the Warrior. DOUBLE AND I added far cry 4 into this shit! I actually made this story based around this exact event with Citra meeting the universe of far cry 4 and the character Yalung who by the way isn't an OC... eh? eh?
Ok whtvs but thank for reading! :]!