Resident Evil REwritten

A New Nightmare

" " -Spoken

' ' -Thought

( ) -Commentary. The smartass remarks that could be heard from the back of my head. For comic relief, and personal opinions. They're usually too snarky to be said aloud.

Welcome to the world of Resident Evil. Good luck and godspeed, you stupid, suicidal motherfuckers.

~~Badadumdunbum~~

Quote of the day!

IF LIBERALS DON'T WANT US TO TREAT EVERY MUSLIM LIKE A TERRORIST, THEN WHY DO THEY TREAT EVERY GUN OWNER LIKE THE NEWTON SHOOTER?

~~Badadumdunbum~~

#11 Just One Lousy Snake

~~Badadumdunbum~~

"Well, it isn't like we've got much choice, is it?"

"Alright, then." Smiling, I turned back to Rebecca's unconscious form, taking a knee as I brushed her bangs aside. "C'mon Becs, I need you. Wake up. Hey." After shaking her shoulders, I switched to lightly patting her cheek, trying to rouse her. A few moments of fruitless attempts made me change tactics. "Come on, girl, get up. Oy!"

Her eyelids twitched, slowly fluttering before her eyes opened. Rebecca blinked once more before answering, staring up at me. "Huh-? Roy?"

Nodding, I pulled her up to a sitting position, resting her back against my knee. "Welcome back, sleeping beauty. You feeling okay?"

She nodded once, looking around the room before her eyes went wide. "Yeah, better than you're looking, anyway. Is that... Captain Wesker?" Ah.

Well, it used to be. Now it's just another douchebag corpse for me to trip over. "Yep. He's no longer a problem."

The medic leaned her head back to stare up at me again. "I remember you coughing up blood by the pint before stumbling away. How did you pull that off?"

She was awake? Damn. How did I miss that?

Grinning wryly, I replied, "Eheh, with the power of stubborn. Couldn't let myself miss such a high value target, dying or not. My boss would never let me hear the end of it, being the guy who's never missed."

"Ah-HEM." Someone behind us cleared their throat, rather loudly.

Oh. Right.

She blinked once more, leaning back to see around me. "Huh? The others are here?"

I pulled us both to our feet, turning back around to face the group. But of course, several of them had knowing looks on their smug faces, particularly that damnedable Redfield as he asked, "How you feeling, kid?"

"Better than before. Where are the others? Captain Enrico and..." Several of them shook their heads, no longer smiling at the reminder. "Oh. Damnit. We're the only ones left?"

Chris nodded. "So it seems. Do you trust this guy, Rebecca?"

But of course, she answered instantly, no hesitation. "Yeah, he saved me more than once last night. It was because of me that he got hurt." As if on cue, my shoulder sent a twinge of discomfort down my entire arm. Not exactly pain, but more like something adjusting itself, trying to get comfortable before it settled into place.

Friggin' weird, man. But it's a pretty good reminder; the clock's ticking, for me and everyone else.

"Well that's that, then. Anybody else doubt me? Anyone at all think they would rather just shoot me and get it over with?"

. . .

"Didn't think so. Gear up and get military, we move in five."

Jill glanced towards the other members of Stars before staring at me. "Do you even have a plan?"

Did she really just ask me that?

Can you imagine, asking ME if I have a plan? That's like asking Hugh Hefner if he knows any hot chicks. Or asking Chris Costa if he's any good with a rifle. Or asking Heather Harmon(Or Heather Brooke, as more people will know her) if she's any good at sucking dick. Of fuckin' COURSE I have a plan! I always have a plan. You might as well just call me Baldrick.

"But of course. I have a cunning plan..."

"Famous last words." Rebecca made a snarky remark, damn her cute little attitude that she got from me.

I'm not a very good role model, am I? Rolling my eyes while trying my best not to smile, I responded, "Oh, shut it. If not for my awesome plan last night, you'd've wound up zombie-chow."

To be perfectly honest, that ultra-cute, sardonic, raised-eyebrow expression she had looked as thought she wanted to say, Did your "awesome" plan involve getting me into bed?

Eheh, that may have been a secondary goal, but hey! Mission accomplished, on both counts. Next up is the second phase. "Now as I said, we need two medals to get out of here. One of them is in the library, hidden inside of a large blue book; Eagle of East, Wolf of West. However, the hard part of that isn't finding the book, oh no. The giant snake that Jill and Richard ran into, known to the researchers here as the Yawn, often frequents said library. As you can all guess, with our luck, that is going to be a problem. Seeing as bullets will probably just piss it off, I suggest we fall back on the tried-and-true explosive solution. The thing likes to keep its mouth open, so feed it a frag, if you will. Right about now, we are very low on time, so you all will have to handle that while Rebecca and I deal with the traps guarding the other medal."

Outraged stares greeted my plan from all around. "Riiight, you want to send us against the giant monster while you take the easy job?" Chris remarked, rolling his eyes.

I quirked an eyebrow with a wry smirk. "My arm's hanging on by an asshair, and none of you know what to look out for to keep from getting killed by the house itself. Believe it or not, you've got the safer job, just searching for a damned book if you keep quiet and don't run around like a 'tard to attract the Yawn. Does anyone else want to try dodging spike traps and falling ceillings instead? I know there's an Indiana Jones-style giant boulder around here somewhere."

. . .

"Didn't think so."

Jill blinked, then said, in the most outlandish of deadpan tones, "Wait. I thought you said it was suicidally retarded to split up in this madhouse?"

Gah, damnit. I thought she was stupid. She was in both the original and the REmake! "There's nothing but a single moving-statue trap between here and the library. So long as you don't touch the key in the pedestal, you'll be fine. Keep your ears open and don't let the Yawn corner you, that's about all you need to remember. When it opens its big mouth, toss a frag in while someone else has its attention. Think of it like a video game." Heheheh, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't trying not to chuckle.

When they shared looks,(Excluding Rebecca, who knew where I was going with this) I then sniped, "You're supposed to be some kinda super-badass special forces SWAT team, right? You don't need a seventeen-year-old kid to hold your hands, do ya?"

Hahah, that got 'em up and moving. "Alright, alright, we get your point. But why are you taking Rebecca with you, huh? Thought you wouldn't want to risk her getting hurt, right?" Ah, good old Sully's a lot smarter than he looks. Chemistry specialist, isn't he?

Still. More fun-poking time!(But not poking Rebecca's fun-spot, unfortunately) "Frankly speaking, I don't trust the lot of you to not get her killed, seeing as the average competency rate of this unit is that of a mentally deficient one-legged man in an ass-kicking contest." Oh, that stung. That stung bad, judging from the various expressions around the room.(Again, excluding Becca. She's the rookie, after all, and gets a pass. Plus she knows where I'm going with this) "Though this is coming from a professional assassin, so don't feel too bad. S'not like any of you have been trained to deal with the things that go bump in the night."

When they all turned their silent, expectant stares upon me, I finished with, "That was a joke. Oy, Topher! How many frags did Speyer have on 'im?"

Alpha's pointman pulled the belt from his shoulder and gave it a quick glance. "Seven grenades, also had some nine-millimeter."

Hm. Well, that's good enough. "Hmph. It'll do, I suppose. Spread it out, one frag per, keep 'em handy. And pass the nine down here, not like any of you need it with long guns."

It took a mere few moments to divvy up the munitions, reloading my magazines(Hey, I may be using the forty-five for now, but that's no excuse to be lazy. As confucius says, he who over-prepares rarely runs out of ammo first) and getting Rebecca re-equipped. Of course, she took the chance to fret over me as I double-checked her kit.

"You alright, Roy? How's your arm?" She quietly asked, while I patted down the velcro holding her vest in place.

I brushed off the question, turning the sentiment back onto her. "S'fine, just a bit numb. And you?"

She shrugged, offering a brief smile. "As well as one could expect, surviving a bioweapon infection. Are you sure you're feeling okay? Your eyes look a little... Off." My eyes? The hell is she talking about?

Bah, no time for that. I tried my best to give her a comforting smile. "I'm good to go. For now, anyway. C'mon, head in the game, love. You can worry about me after we get outta here, okay?"

Though reluctant, she agreed. "If you say so. Just be more careful."

"Heh, you know me. Careful is my middle name."

Someone cleared their throat again. "Ah-HEM." When I turned my attention back to the group, I saw it was Topher Redfield himself, again with that knowing little smile that made me want to punch him in the mouth. "If you two ladies are done flirting?"

Ass, that's my line.

~~Badadumbundum~~

"Um, are you sure you know where you're going?"

"Nope. Now c'mon, we need to get this and a couple of other things done but-quick in case those morons wind up as monster bait." I replied, pushing open the door to the parlor with that grand piano with the wooden crest in-hand. "I hope you remember how to play Moonlight Sonata."

Glancing back, I saw the most wonderfully amusing look on her cute, pixie-like face as she looked between my smirk and the piano. "What the hell are you talking about? And how did you know I took piano lessons?"

I tapped my left temple with a smirk. "Psychic powers, remember? Heheh, I just need you to play it for a few moments, as the piano is hooked up to a hidden passage that has something we need."

Sighing melodramatically, she dropped into the seat with a shake of her head as she muttered, "What could possibly be worth this kind of headache..."

Ohhh, baby, it's definitely worth it.

Rebecca cracked her fingers, shook out her hands, and then began to play.

Or, well, began to mangle Beethoven's greatest work. "Oh, dear lord. It's a piano, not a torture device!"

She blushed bright red, thoroughly embarassed. "Shut up! I haven't played in years, plus I have to do it by rote memory since there's no sheet music." Heheh, she's so much fun to tease! And speaking of which.

I meandered on over to that conveniently-placed bookcase and effortlessly shoved it out of my way, picking up the thin, softcover book hidden on the shelf behind it. Coming back to my young partner, I dropped it on the piano's rack. "You were saying?"

She blinked dumbly before muttering something intelligible to herself as she opened it. "Half the pages have been ripped out."

Uh-huh. Excuses, excuses. "Does it have the first half?"

"Well yeah, but-"

I cut her off, patting her shoulder. "Then that's good enough to get the door partway open. Just don't stop playing until I'm through."

The medic shook her head again, flipping through the sheet music. "What door are you even talking about, anyway?"

"You'll see."

And so she did, after having to restart a half-dozen times within the first few notes. But still, after a little trial and error, she managed to play the song well enough for the mansion to be pleased by her efforts.(Or it just got tired of hearing her piss on Beethoven's grave and decided to throw her a bone)

The section of moving wall lifted itself up into the ceiling inch-by-inch, until there was a two foot gap in which I slid under, getting to my feet and moving straight to the statue that held my prize. Dropping to one knee, I pulled the large golden emblem from its place-

Holy hell! This thing weighs a good sixteen, eighteen pounds! Shit, this must be solid gold. Fuck, I'm in the money now. "Heheh, I am in the black."

*Thoomb!*

And just then, the wall section ominously slammed back down, blocking me in. Or, well, it would if not for the fact that one entire side of this corridor was made of glass. Ah, well. I placed the wooden emblem into the statue before getting back to my feet and walking back into the parlor, paycheck in hand.

"Oh my god, Roy! I liketo have had a heart attack when I saw the wall slam shut. Did you get the medal we need?" Rebecca asked, relieved to see me in one piece.

Grinning widely, I replied, "Nope. I got something even better." I held up the hefty piece of bling, relishing the way her eyes widened into the size of saucers. "Cha-Ching, baby."

"Is- Is that real? Is that thing actually gold?" She incredulously asked. I think I saw dollar signs in her lovely green eyes.

I merely nodded, stashing the treasure in my- Well, shit. Don't really have a place for it. Guess I'll drop it in the duffel on our way back through. "Yep, solid twenty-four karat, I do believe. Or twelve, I'm not sure. All I can tell you is that it is heavy as hell, and has to be worth a fortune. I'm considering it my bonus, seeing as Spencer's bloody virus nearly killed me and I'm not getting paid anywhere near enough for the shit Umbrella has put me through in the past two days. Besides, this place'll be a memory soon enough, so why let good money go to waste?"

"Good point. So that's why you had the others go off without us? You just better remember to share the happiness." Heheh, I knew she'd be amicable.

"You got it, fifty-fifty once we're out. Gotta pay off those college loans, right?"

She grinned, pearly whites gleaming wickedly in the light. "Right."

After dropping our little 'bonus' in the duffel, I threw it onto my shoulder and jogged up the stairs, leading Becs through the doors, hallways, corridors, and more hallways to the room we actually needed to get into.

Now of course, this room wasn't really much of a trap. At least, not unless you were an invalid, or crippled, or blind, or couldn't maintain a leisurely pace for about fifteen steps. Seriously. I pushed a large marble statue into the central area while telling Becky to stay put and not get between the walls,(She didn't need to be told, but better to reiterate that they would kill you if you weren't paying attention) then ran around to the right-hand side and hit the switch before turning around and heading back.

Then I shoved the statue into its spot, and the walls returned to their normal positions as a small section at the end slid up into the ceiling, revealing a small hidden passage. Eesh, hella pain in the ass just to open this thing up. Wonder how the hell Spencer did this in that wheelchair of his? "Uh, wasn't that an awful lot of work just to open this up? And was that even supposed to be a trap? I mean, it moves so slowly you'd need to be in a wheelchair with only one arm to get caught by it. You could crawl from one end to the other before the thing closed on you."

I shrugged. "No clue. It's hydraulic, so that might be why it's that slow. Maybe it used to be faster, twenty years ago. Now c'mon, let's grab that damned medal and be done." We briefly looked around the hidden area, where I grabbed an old-school flash grenade,(Could be useful. Just better not mix it up with that frag) before we both looked down into that dark hole in the floor.

"So, lemme guess. The book that's got this medal inside it is down there, right?"

"Yep." I responded, carefully setting the duffel on the floor before I dropped down onto some kind of mossy gravel floor. At my feet, not even a half-metre in front of me, was that damned book. I picked it up, flipping it open and plucking the medal of Eagle from its dusty pages. Tossing the now-useless book aside, I pocketed our ticket out of here and turned back, looking straight up that hole.

"Did you find it?" Rebecca asked, standing above me.

Looking up like this, I thought, 'Man, I really wish she was wearing a skirt right about now. Heheh, maybe that cowgirl outfit of hers. Wait. I wonder...'

Shaking perverted thoughts of Rebecca in the cowgirl position with a dirty chuckle, I called, "Yeah, now hop out the way." And then I stepped back, taking a short running start to jump up, kicking off the left-side wall to get an extra few inches of height to grab onto the rough ledge.

'Agh, starting to think I'm out of shape,' I thought, pulling myself up and out.

Strangely, the young medic was giving me an odd look. "Are you okay? Your arm isn't hurting at all?"

Huh. Man, she's really worried about me, ain't she? "Yeah, I'm good. Shoulder isn't bothering me at all, to be honest. Now c'mon, we need to make another stop before we hit the library."

"Another one? What is it this time, jewels?"

I blinked owlishly. Wow. She's right and doesn't even know it. "How'd you guess?"

Rebecca came to a dead stop, turning to stare at me. "Wait, are you serious? I was only kidding."

~~Badadumdunbum~~

"I- I thought you were making a joke! These things must be worth a fortune! Sapphire, Ruby and a yellow diamond? They're as big as my fist! Holy hell, they must've spent more on these things than the mansion itself, man-made or not."

"Not quite, but damn close, considering the prices back then. The gems are worth a pretty penny, but the gold is where we'll make more money over time."

Rebecca gave me a look. "Huh? What do you mean?"

I did a quick tally in my head. Roughly 14.5 troy ounces per pound, times 18 pounds. That's 261 troy ounces. Pure gold was around, what, $300 per troy ounce in 1998? But if saved until 2011, that'll multiply to $1800 per ounce.(That's when the buying frenzy was at its height, going up to over two grand per ounce of pure gold. Hey, I collect and trade gold. So sue me for being a precious metal nut)

Holy shit. That's a lotta simoleons.

$78,000 today, or $470,000 roughly thirteen years from now? Fuck it, that's a worthwhile investment for my retirement. Shit, I'll barely be thirty and I'll be able to retire! My old man's dream.

And that's a conservative estimate, based solely on the value of the gold itself, not the fact that it's a beautiful piece of artwork molded into a motif of the Spencer family emblem.

"Right about now, gold is around three hundred bucks an ounce. In just over a decade, that price will be over fifteen hundred per ounce. It'll mean the difference between maybe a hundred grand, and half a million. You see what I'm getting at?"

Oh-ho, she had those cute little dollar signs in her eyes again. "Did... Did you just say half a million?"

I nodded. "Yep. I got a buddy named Donald Trump, guy's a genius when it comes to consumerism and market manipulation. If he says gold is going to skyrocket in price, then you can be damn sure I'm gonna stock up while I've got the chance."

"Well, who can argue with that? And you were right, this is Umbrella's doing." She picked up the fax that had been lying on the coffee table, skimming through its contents. "White Umbrella, Umbrella headquarters? Chief of security... Was that Captain Wesker?"

"Seems likely. Look at the date, July twenty-second. This was sent recently. Extension 5691... I think we're going to have some fun with that." I grinned wickedly, chuckling quite evilly.

Rebecca shot me a raised-eyebrow look. "You're not going to prank call the people who are trying to kill us, are you?"

*Powfuhl!*

Just before I could respond, we heard a gunshot in the distance. "Well, fuck. C'mon, those idiots have definitely gotten themselves into trouble!" And out the door we ran.

~~Badadumdunbum~~

"Finally! Hey guys, I found it!" Chris called, coming around the book case. In his hand was a large blue book, just like Roy had described.

As my partner strode over, the remaining three of us gathered in the center of the room, he said, "Eagle of East, Wolf of West. Looks like our CIA friend was telling the truth." And as he opened the book, a large, round medal caught our attention, gleaming in the light.

I pulled it from the book, holding it up to get a better look. "Huh. Not sure how this thing is supposed to open a door. Some kind of magnetics? Or indentations like a lock's tumblers, maybe."

*HISSSSSSHHH...*

And as a deep, ominous hissing sound suddenly filled the room, I had to fight the urge to duck and run. I'd barely even glanced in the direction I'd heard it coming from when my eyes widened and my throat ran dry. From above us, the Yawn had crept over the handrail in complete silence, only its incessent hissing giving its presense away, not even ten feet between us.

Without even turning around, Chris rolled his eyes and sighed melodramaitcally. "That snake is right behind me, isn't it?"

I nodded wordlessly, slowly dropping the medal in my pocket before raising Richard's shotgun. My thumb found the safety, and just as I deactivated it,

*Snk!*

The monster struck.

All four of us dived in different directions, moving as far away from the mutated creature as its fangs buried themselves in one of the nearby book cases, the massive snake crashing down onto the first floor with us.

"Keep away from it!" I heard Sully shout, just before the the roar of Barry's revolver halfway deafened me, the constant, familiar ringing in my ears drowning out everything.

*POWFUHL-EEEEIIIINNNNGG...!*

Though familiar, that made it no less annoying and distracting than before. Scrambling to my feet, I pulled up my gun as quickly as Chris had, both of us firing at the gargantuan reptile.

But our bullets seemed to do nothing more than just make it angry. Roy's suggestion to frag the thing seemed about our best chance of taking it down. Problem is, we're way too close to it for that, and even if we succeed, its thick hide probably wouldn't stop the shrapnel from injuring or killing whoever was close enough to accurately throw a grenade down its throat.

"Really wishing Forest was here right about now!" My partner shouted, evading the snake's tail before dropping back to load more shells.

I dully noted my own weapon clicking dry, my shaking hands barely forcing the rounds into the chamber without fumbling them. Thank god for muscle memory, I suppose. But how the hell did this thing get in here? Is there a hole in the ceiling that leads to the attic? Or was it here the whole time and we just didn't notice?

Another thing to think about. Why is it that I notice all these little details while I'm scared shitless?

"Jill, watch out!" Right after smacking the bolt release of my shotgun, my eyes snapped up just in time to recognize the large, scaly hide right in front of my face.

Why me?

*WHUMPK!*

"OOMPH!"

I felt myself sailing through the air, the wind knocked out of me; but I didn't even have time to register that before my back impacted something solid, my head cracking against it not even a moment later. And as I fell to the floor, coughing weakly, my entire existence exploded into nothing but pain. Sparks danced in front of my eyes, the edges of my vision dark as everything blurred from the unshed tears.

'Got to... Get up. Gotta move. UP!'

Feeling something hot, foamy and coppery-tasting coming up as I coughed a bit more, I shook the haze from my mind, blinking back the tears as I forced myself back up on my feet, halfway using Richard's gun as a crutch.

'He'd kill me for that if he were still here. He always did love this gun.'

Looking back up, I saw the Yawn was right in front of me, ignoring the gunfire peppering its back. The thing had its mouth open, muscles coiled tight. It was about to strike!

Memories flashed before my eyes; of dad, of Chris, of everyone I ever knew.

But just before the massive reptile bit me in half, I felt myself getting shoved to the side, landing hard on my backside, instinctively rolling with the impact and out of the snake's way.

"Suck this!" Someone shouted, just before the entire room quaked under the sheer force of an explosion.

*BADOOOMSHKAaaa...!*

The explosion drowned everything out, leaving my ears ringing even louder. Great, as if my tinnitis wasn't bad enough already.

After a few moments, I could hear someone shouting. "BADOOM! Bits and brains everywhere, hah hah hah!" Roy cackled, a triumphant cry that was both a relief, and yet extremely irritating for some reason. Though mostly irritating, even given the circumstances.

When I turned to look where the giant snake had been, I saw that the entire top of its head was gone, gore splashed all over the floor and bookcase in front of it. There was still blood spurting out, the massive tail of the creature still twitching. I couldn't help but shiver at the sight. Good thing I'd rolled out of the way, otherwise my entire outfit would be ruined.

It's a bitch trying to get blood stains out of cotton.

"Hey." I turned towards the voice, finding Chris standing over me with a concerned look on his handsome face and his hand held out. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." I took it, pulling myself up.

When we both turned to address the maniacally grinning CIA agent, we saw he had that duffel bag slung on his shoulder, and my keen eyes noticed the grenade pin still dangling from one of his fingers. My hand reflexively went to my belt, feeling for the M67 that had been hanging there; it was gone. He'd swiped it from my belt when he pushed me out of the way.

Anyway. The young man was shaking his head with that smarmy grin that made me want to punch him as he said, "Jesus, Mary and Joseph Stalin, do I have to do everything around here? It was just one lousy snake."

Kenneth groaned in annoyance. "Yeah, one big-ass, fifty-foot-long snake."

"Heh, at least it wasn't solid." We all openly stared at Roy as he chuckled to himself. "Nevermind, esoteric humor."

Right. "Did you get the other medal?" I asked, pulling the Wolf one from my pocket. Good, it was still intact.

He did the same, though his was red, with an Eagle motif on it. "Yep, we're all set."

Chris looked him up and down before remarking, "Well, you certainly don't look any worse for wear. You even got here pretty quick. It was easier to get to that medal after all, wasn't it?" My partner blinked before remembering something important as he looked around. "Wait, where's Rebecca?"

"Up here!" We all glanced up to see the young medic of Bravo team waving at us, hearty and hale with a cheeky smile on her face.

"Oh. Well nevermind, then."

~~Badadumbundum~~

Bulletstorm, The Dark Id of course, Archer and MGS are referenced in this chapter.

For my fellow Second Amendment supporters, we've got good news on some proposed legislation. The Carry Reciprocity Act of 2014 has been introduced recently by a Texas Senator.

Keep your ears open, that might be going places.

~~Badadumdunbum~~

"At the core of liberalism is the spoiled child – miserable, as all spoiled children are, unsatisfied, demanding, ill-disciplined, despotic and useless. Liberalism is a philosophy of sniveling brats." -PJ O'Rourke

~~Badadumdunbum~~

"Cockfighting has always been my idea of a great sport. Two armed entrées battling to see who'll be dinner." -PJ O'Rourke

~~Badadumdunbum~~

"The government has confiscated all of our rights and is selling them back to us in the form of permits." -Unknown

~~Badadumbundum~~

Hey, want to know something interesting? The ATF's NFA branch is sitting on over 6 million dollars in unprocessed NFA tax stamps. Over 30,000 people have gone through with a Form 1 or Form 4 last year, which is $200 a pop, albeit with some being only $5. Thing is, with the understaffed and intentionally redundant procedures, the ATF simply cannot keep up with the workload.

Second of all, did you know that the money from those NFA tax stamps doesn't go to the ATF? No, it goes to the Department of Justice, which does NOT allocate any of that funding to the ATF. Why, you ask? Because it's stupid by design and prevents the NFA branch from being self-sustaining. And honestly? If you can pass the NICS check, you'll pass the ATF's check. It only exists as a de facto method of discouraging as many people from exercising their rights as possible. There is no excuse for that kind of incompetent stupidity and blatant violation of the second amendment.

See the above quote to understand all that. Shall not be infringed, my brothers.

Feet wet and powder dry.