If you obey to the rules, you will pay for the consequences

Croford was said to be the city that evolved the quickest into the technological era. This was the city that other people looked up to, they went to the city for guidance, for explanations and for advice. They were the one that steered the entire land, they knew what they were doing, and they most definitely were the ones to be the number one city in this world. It was advancing, was making its efforts to make sure that everyone that lived here had a chance to live.

Among the poverty and the hungry souls, Croford was destined to be the first city that made sure that everyone was going to be fine. You could find a house, a job, a potential partner and adopt whoever you wanted to have by your side. Every possibility was open because everyone had a chance to live. Had a chance to establish a life and do whatever you felt like doing. It was paradise some said.

Despite this, the city's exterior didn't have the beauty that drew people inside, no, this city lived off of rumors rather than looks. It was a big city, most likely the biggest around. Stone pathways curved around buildings on the main street, prettier buildings, to mask the ugliness behind it. They had different colored bricks, half-timbered and over half of them had gables. Wide roofs, chimneys to let smoke escape, the homes were both big and small in size, completely build up against each other to house as many mobians as it could. Some of them were whitewashed, others simply had the paint slowing pooling off of it from age. The first parts of the city held the oldest buildings, no time to renovate them, but mobians still lived in them.

As the city became more and more overcrowded you found whatever place was available to you. Behind the prettier buildings were the ones that were dilapidated, broken roofs and walls, no glasses in the windows and doors that might as well not be there. You couldn't hold warmth in them, had limited storage space and was most likely just the best candidate for a single night's sleep. Despite this, mobian still lived in them, using them as their home because they had nowhere else to be, hoping for a better tomorrow.

The roads made meaningless patterns in the confined space, a river temporarily breaking it apart across the road and created a bridge instead to give everyone full access to the other part of town. High buildings were old and used for meetings and soldiers, poor people huddling around to beg while others simply scoffed at them. People who lived here didn't have a lot of things, didn't live that great and spat at whoever told them that better times were about to be upon them. Better times? Those times were saved for the mobians who lived on the newer parts of town.

The further you travelled into the city the better things became. Houses held their own, shining in the sun and created beautiful patterns on the carefully painted bricks, installed framework and secure foundations. The closer you lived to the castle the better the house, and the more wealth. The rumors about their technological advancements came from here, as it was the only place where heaters were, kettles, and if you were lucky, a TV. No one knew who the broadcaster was, but when entertainment rolled around for adults and kids, they were glued to the screen.

It was a very rare luxury, while the word ran around saying that improvements were about to come, and someone was even talking about transportation that didn't require your legs. It was remarkable to say the least! How things seemed to be improving and turning the city into something amazing. Soon, the people in the richer parts of town thought, everyone would be just as happy as they were.

Evolution didn't just stop - it kept going no matter the circumstances, no matter what happened between mobians, between rich and poor, old, and young, big, and small.

"To hell with that lie," He thought, after scoffing at the group of rich who had huddled together in the corner by the market stand to talk.

He was used to eavesdropping, gaining information about recent events and where the latest gang fight had taken place. His ears were trained at this point, listening to any sound, any conversation and anything that might be of use to him.

Talk about other mobians weren't important - he couldn't care less about Heather who had finally gotten a job, about poor John who had fallen ill and the lucky Bethany who had found someone she was interested in. Trivial things like that was a waste of time, something that didn't contribute to his surviving and was therefore unnecessary to keep listening on. Richer mobians often talked like that, like it was the most importance news that they could get, eavesdropping on the poor was much more useful since they were just as wary as he was.

Ducking his head low, he walked past the group as it went unnoticed as usual when he swiped something from a female bird's basket. She wore a long pink and white dress, feathers tied together in the top and spoke with a fluent and a vomit-material tone. She was rich enough. He briefly looked at his hand, and smirked when he realized he had gotten some cheese.

He quickly hid it away behind him, keeping his head low as his other hand clutched around the bottle and held it close to his chest. His hooded cloak was long and had a dark green color, perfect for camouflage and his short body, concealing almost the entirety of him. The golden trim that had been around had faded, his small fingers scratching at it as well to make the color duller in the dark. It was old at this point and vaguely smelled of dust and grime from the alley's puddles and spilled drinks, but it was the most important piece of fabric he had. Beside his gloves that protected his sensitive fingers, thinking that he needed a new pair soon, and his dirty shoes that was required if he didn't want to catch any colds or fungus.

He rammed his shoulder into another passerby in fake accident, mumbling a 'sorry' which he didn't mean, while his hand went into the bag. He pulled out and smirked at the piece of bread he had gotten, dull and from yesterday but now he could have cheese and bread once he got back. A good dinner indeed.

He lifted his head slightly, as his eyes caught an elderly woman sitting down on the ground with a basket next to her. Her mobian clothes were ragged and dirty, an apple she had just put down was by her feet, her attention at the basket. He walked by her.

The poor wasn't his targets, as they survived just as much as he did.

Walking by an alleyway his trained eyes scanned the area, ears drawn towards it, but quickly faced forward again when no one was hiding there.

You had to be aware - you had to be conscious of every dark spot in this city, doing what he did he knew he had a lot of eyes on his back. Invisible eyes that he couldn't detect despite his sensitive hearing and experienced eyes. He knew the rules on the street, knew what happened here and what you needed to do to survive it.

He looked up when he reached it, his eyes scanning over a sign that hung from a door, and immediately turned to his right into the alley that was connected to it. Eyes scanning over the area, he quickly concluded that no one was around, walking around a barrel and away from the main street.

He blew out an involuntary sigh of relief, felt much more comfortable in the alleyways where he was hidden from everyone, senses on high alert for anyone that would try to mug him. Walking around a tower of boxes he looked up at the backdoor, a barrel beside it that smelled of brewed drinks. He wrinkled his nose thinking that he was rather glad to get rid of this bottle as he lifted a hand and knocked on the door, immediately spun around behind the tower of barrels.

A couple of seconds passed by, his face screwed into determination, ears erect and listening. Then he heard shuffling from the wall behind him, and soon something clicked on the other side, and the door opened. A couple of seconds went by, as the mobian most likely tried to figure out who knocked.

"Hello?" A female voice, the one he was looking for. He emerged from the barrel tower, the hood still drawn as he walked into the light that emerged from the open door, a female wolf with ragged clothes and an apron standing in the doorway.

"Oh, it's you," She said, and actually gave him a smile. He blinked, thinking how long ago it was since someone had smiled at him, before he drew up the bottle from his chest, reaching it towards her.

"Moonshine. As promised," He said, voice in the higher tones, indicating a young individual. She blinked at him, before taking the bottle from him, sighed at the pure sight of it.

"Thank you. My husband's been asking for it for a while, but I don't have the money for it," She said, inspected the bottle, while he saw the way that she checked if the cork had been pulled off.

Automatically his eyes travelled over her eyes, irises analyzing and checking. She wasn't lying.

"Now your promise," He reminded, knew that he had already been standing here for too long. It was dangerous to stay still, especially in the alley, in the darkness. Her eyes somehow loosened from the bottle she was practically nursing, blinking at him before she let out an 'ah' and leaned away from the door.

His head whipped around automatically, checking for anyone, before returning to the female mobian, who held something silver colored out at him. He found himself standing and looking at it, precious seconds that he needed to use for observation rather than admiration, as the small piece of metal even had some wires sticking out from it. He quickly blinked away his daze, taking it from her hand, and got ready to say his goodbyes when she held a piece of sausage in front of him.

He looked at it, the red meat glistening in the light from the door, had to swallow some saliva that had conjugated, but quickly looked away back up at her, shaking his head.

"That wasn't the deal," He said, looking at her eyes again.

Surprise, a bit of confusion.

"It's alright. You must have gotten out of your way to get the bottle, it's unfair for you to just get some metal in return that I found on the street," She smiled again. His eyes darted around her face, the twisting of her lip, the slight widening of her pupils.

She was thankful, but regretted her offer, but at the same time was genuine. He shook his head again, taking a step back, which made her take back her hand, blinking at him.

"We're all in this. Keep it," He explained, while her eyes changed again. Relief. It transferred down to her lips as another smile was on her face, warm and thankful.

"If you say so," She said, took a step back as well in the doorway. "Be careful," She then added, carefully closing the door again.

He found himself standing and looking at the brown portal, holding on to the piece of metal with both hands underneath his hooded cloak while he felt regret of his own creep underneath his skin. He shook his head, eyes darting around the alley once more, before he started walking, boxes and barrels in his way.

He had been on the street for a long time, very long time, and with time he had gained experience. Gained a skill, that made his presence known among the thieves and pick pocketers. His blue eyes were trained, he could read and analyze, categorize people and their emotions purely on their facial features alone

The eyes told him everything - he could see everything, the most common being fright, confusion, regret, exhaustion and anger. And he was never wrong, had bended a couple of mobians who thought they were better than him, telling them that they were scared and hid their insecurities behind their façade. People had exteriors, fake masks to be able to live, but this fox could see them. He could see right through them.

He was known as the sly one, the quick dot of green that span around corners and hid in alley, could tell whenever you lied, whatever you were truly feeling and could reveal secrets without doing anything, without anyone saying anything. He was a pick pocketer, grabbed what he could out of eyeshot, doing small favors in exchange for survival needs and items for his hobby.

The alley was where he belonged, where he was in his element and the place where he survived, where he disobeyed the rules.

The back of the houses were more dilapidated, broken exteriors, unkept wells and wild grass that grew in between the bricks underneath his shoes. The sun was almost down, bringing him into darkness, something that he was familiar with, could handle. Beside his eyes holding a skill of deduction and analysis he had night vision, being able to see the outskirts from the small peddle on the ground to the high towers in the distance. It came with his race, his yellow tail whipping in an automatous action, his brain not paying attention to its movement, besides the other.

Clutching the metal to his chest in pure fascination and interest, he quickly darted over a box, and made his way around a corner, closing around the side of a house and came into a narrower path, squashed between two buildings. Here he slowed down, his track turning into a walk until it eventually stopped in the middle, making room for himself.

His ears swirled around, eyes focused as he hid the metal away, face straightening onto his path ahead.

"If you wanna ambush me you might as well do it now," He said into the empty alley.

Though, he knew better than any average mobian. His ears had caught the sounds, the shushing, the shuffling and the quiet steps that tried to take steps while he did, creating an almost invisible echo. He had seen it, the shadows that disappeared as soon as he moved his head just a tiny bit, hands placed on boxes and barrels to see where he went. He had tried to shake them, but somehow, they had been able to keep track, most likely realizing that they had been caught.

And his suspicion was right, not a delusional image of paranoia, as he whipped his head around when he saw them emerge from behind the corner of a house. Three mobians, three mobians that he recognized, narrowing his eyes in defense, felt his tail whip in premature agitation, without having the ability to stop it.

"Figured you'd heard us," A red male wolf said, a ragged brown shirt over his chest, broader shoulders, categorized him as strong. He smirked, his eyes gaining a shine that spoke to him more than if he had said words.

Confident, even too confident.

"Easy now Bruce, don't let him look at you. He might just make you tremble," A blue bird said, a red scarf covering his neck having a belt over his chest with a small pouch.

He smirked as well, though his eyes were shaking just a tiny bit. He wasn't nervous, but wary and careful. Lastly a brown dog appeared from the wolf's back, narrowed his eyes at the fox, wearing dark blue overalls. He wasn't used to this, his entire stance not radiating confidence like the other two, hovering over the wolf like he asked for protection. He was a laggard, only joining the other two because he had nothing else to do - eyes were calm, unexpected and clearly didn't know who he was standing in front of.

"I ain't afraid of someone like him," The wolf said, took a couple of more steps that to anyone else would have been threatening but the fox. "You were on our turf yesterday - we've told you before to keep away from the market," It was a warning, but he knew from experience and his stance alone that a warning wasn't all that he wanted to give him.

Adrenaline started rising in the young one, hands fisted underneath his hooded cloak, being a good inches shorter than the three others that was practically towering over him.

"So what? You're gonna beat a defend less kid in the middle of an ally?" He asked, his own tone holding an edge of fierceness, lifting his head to look at the wolf, no fear shining in the small blue orbs, narrowed in mobian instinct.

The wolf crossed his arms over his chest - annoyance, feeling offended even - as he looked down at him, taking another step forward.

"You're not just any kid," He leaned down towards him, threatening with a fierce expression in his eyes. He didn't have to look thoroughly to note it - the territorial instinct, a predator that threatened their grounds and their turf that they needed to teach a lesson. Their path for survival.

"Tails."

The fox squinted his eyes at him, within seconds throwing the hood off of his face and spun around, revealing another tail hidden underneath the cloak. They were pure muscle, the fluffy exterior giving the impression that they were weak and held nothing but fur and yet, when they were combined with trained and muscle laced legs, they became as strong as batons, sending the wolf into the brick wall beside him, with his face first.

He turned his head, well-knowing when the leader was getting beaten the rest of the group would follow. And again, he was right, as both the bird and the dog charged at him, his eyes quickly analyzing. The bird was trained, had been in fights before as he charged with precision in his feet, going quickly while thinking. The lagger on the other hand, the dog, clumsily ran with a punch already thrown, as if he had expected to hit him already. He saw the pre-victory gleam in the both of them nonetheless - they underestimated him, his greatest weapon.

He managed to smirk as he dodged around a punch thrown by the bird, spun around the elder mobians body standing behind him and send a kick to his side. He was thrown into the ground, turning around as the dog was going near. He sidestepped, a clumsy punch, throwing one of his own making the mobian stumble backwards holding on to his face. One defeated.

He turned around back towards the wolf before his surprised daze faltered, the broad shouldered mobian letting out a frustrated cry as he lifted his arm to punch him. They always aimed for the face; his arm drawn back to hit him exactly in the nose. He moved his head when it was inches from him, making the heavier lean forward and in return gave him the chance to kick him in the back sending him into the dirt.

He jumped backward as the bird had recovered, throwing another frustrated punch. With frustration came unfocused attacks, meaningless and only held rage, something he used to his advantage. He crouched down and spun around, stiffening tails and removed his legs from under him, making him fall with his back into the ground. He heaved for air when it was knocked out of his lungs, eyes wide with surprise. He took a step back as the wolf came back to his senses, charged at him with a cry, threw two punches from each hand that the quick fox dodged. He saw his chance, as the wolf missed a kick, giving him space underneath his legs. He took the opportunity, darted underneath his attacker, small body squished together as he appeared behind him. Focusing his attack, he narrowed his eyes in determination as he lifted his hand and straighten it, sending the side of it into the back of his neck. The wolf gasped for air, until he fell forward, landing face first into a puddle, unconscious.

The fox stepped forward to make sure his nose wasn't under the water, before he turned back around. The dog was already scurrying away, complete surprise filling his eyes as he looked at the broad-shouldered wolf that didn't move. The bird had gotten back up from the ground, blinked at him in confusion, before he got up from the ground. The fox narrowed his eyes, which was enough to the dog as he turned around and ran.

The bird looked at where the dog was going, looked at the wolf back at where his comrade had disappeared and landed back at the pick pocketer. He stood ready, dust settling around his form as both of his tails was wailing in quick strides, agitation and satisfaction overruling his form while both of his hands were lifted.

Confidence.

The bird looked at the wolf again before he turned around as well, following where the dog had gone. He smirked. Perfect. He didn't give chase since he didn't have any reason to, and merely looked at the wolf sleeping on the ground, a purple bruise in the back of his neck.

"Thank you Espio," He mumbled, as he turned around, lifting his cloak so it hid one tail, darting around a box before a curious individual came to look what the commotion was about.

Going around another corner, his ears swirling backwards to check if they had decided to follow anyway. But they didn't, silence was around him the shuffling gone and the only shadow around was his own. He stopped in his track again, hid behind a box and leaned against a wall. He breathed out, taking big gulps of air as he held a hand over his heart.

He needed to calm down - ease his heart and his lungs. He did it. He was safe. It wasn't often that he was ambushed by three mobians. Usually it was only one, or even two if they felt revengeful enough. He had been around the market a lot, well-knowing it was where the thieves were, though he had disregarded that thought from the treasures that were there. Fresh food and products he swiped for anyone that wanted to make a deal with him.

He needed to be careful - he had managed this time, but who knew the next? He got his breathing under control, closed his eyes and took in a big breath of oxygen before opening them again, pulling the hood over his head and began his walk back to his hideout.

There was a ranking system. The only rules he obeyed to, was the invisible ranks of who survived on the street. Unwritten rules you were forced into the moment you swiped something for the first time. It mattered where you did it, who you talked to and what you were doing there. The thieves were in the high ranking, being able to avoid the soldiers and being anonymous. Assassins were uncommon but they existed and was highly respected, a very few instances had been known around the street when a beggar or a thimble rigger had been around their area too much that someone had found them in the corners of the city. People who rigged card games and carnival wheels were on the bottom of the list, not entirely doing something illegal but at the same time didn't play by the rules of the citizens. Pick pocketers were somewhere in between the thieves and the hitmen, not being outwardly violent unless they were forced to, and only took things that people didn't notice them taking.

From there, if you were known enough around the invisible spider web you were given street names, nicknames for who you were - if it was out of respect or disgust you wouldn't figure out until you met them. He didn't know what kind of emotion his nickname held, though it was quite obvious why he had gotten it. Tails - the sly fox who could tell when you lied and when you had a secret from one look alone.

Quick and quiet, swooping around corners and swiping food without anyone noticing, took weird deals but did the job he was told. He was one of the better pick pocketers around, which was why people knew who he was and why they were after him. And with his eight years of being on the street, all the years that he had lived, his popularity had only risen into the negative aspect, making him more aware, making him more experienced.

Drawing the curtain away from his improvised entrance, he walked past the barrel and squeezed through his tower, landing on the other end of the alley. It was a small corner, hidden by barrels and the curtain, his temporary place to be. His eyes darted around the area for intruders that might have found it, if not the mobians around then a curious and adventurous kid. Though, the place was just as he had left it, somewhat neatly kept but at the same time cluttered.

It was a small corner, a foldable small desk with a box as his seat, and a pallet with some fabric remained as his bed on the other side. A box was in the back of the space while a lantern hung in the ceiling. He drew a breath, as this place was going to be the most secure place he felt, immediately sitting down on the pallet. Despite this being his place to stay, he knew he had almost been here a week and needed to move again. If you stayed in one place too long people would recognize his pattern, invisible shadows which he couldn't see and one day he might just have a visitor while he was sleeping. And now that three mobians had been after him he needed to find his next place to stay, knew that he needed to move closer and closer to the richer areas of town, though that was more dangerous.

Exhaling a sigh of relief, he drew back his hood and took two steps towards the box in the corner, opening it. He took some lamp oil and some matches in his hand, opening the head on the lantern in the ceiling and poured in a small amount of oil. Sliding the match across the red part where red phosphorus would create the perfect chemical reaction, making an instantaneous flame emit. It clicked in the silent night, the flame sputtering to life before it quieted down to a small thing. He reached it over to the oil where it immediately caught fire, shaking the rest of the match until air made it go out.

Putting the glass head back on it, it emitted a small light and would remain lit for the reminder of the night. His stomach reminded him of his earlier haul, as he swiped both tails in front of him, exhausted from keeping one of them still and hidden for a long amount of time. Normally he would hide and make them both wail in the air around the alleys until he had to move out again. But today he had spent a lot of time on the main road, doing reconnaissance and swiping different items from different mobians. He reached into one of his yellow appendages, taking out the metal he had gotten from the female, and reached behind his back from an invisible pocket and found the cheese and bread.

He broke the bread apart, giving him two slices and ripped some of the cheese as well, putting it on each food item, and took a bite. The bread was hard to chew, but the dairy melted on his tongue, sighed heavenly as he hadn't had cheese in a long time. Though, after a couple of bites he felt a bit queasy, a tiny bit of nausea coming to his throat which he negated with his meal. He steadily began to regret that he had declined the sausage, hadn't had meat for almost a week now, and his fox body could feel it. He would have to swipe some soon, though it was a more difficult process as it was almost a luxury in the poor part of town, meaning he had to travel across the bridge an over to the richer parts of it. Something that he felt nervous about.

He took his last bite of the last piece of bread, taking a moment to taste the cheese melt in his mouth before swallowing. He had inspected the metal with his eyes while eating, calculating, and interested mind already categorizing it. He got up from the bed, brushing the crumbs out of his fur as he sat on the box in front of his desk putting the metal on the desk. He reached underneath it, opening a small box, and pulled out a device.

It was precious to him, as he had built it ever since he was three, improving it and creating something that he was proud of. It had a big screen which opened to his finger's touch, the side of it having a rubber handle while a couple of buttons were on the other side of it. Two antennas where on either side of it, bubbles that held electrical currents, while the casing was gray, though he would like to paint it yellow when he got that kind of luxury. It was simple as of right now, could only scan and hold data, though he strived for it to be able to gain data from holographic analysis and hack into various systems. It was an advanced piece of technology, something that wasn't seen around these parts. But he had chosen to ask for metal rather than food for this piece of machinery. Finding a screwdriver in the same box he began taking the wires out of the metal he had received, tinkering with the outer casings. Even though he was concentrated, his ears were still turned towards his entrance, always aware of anyone that might stumble upon him.

This was his only hobby, something that he enjoyed doing, something that he could do that would make his mind temporarily transfer away from his situation. Even though, he was used to surviving this life, there were moments where he wished everything would just quiet down. He had one wish that he couldn't get fulfilled but would do anything for it.

He wants to leave the city - get out of this system, get out of the cobweb, and experience something else. He had already been here too long, and his situation was getting dire every single day since he didn't have a group to support himself against. He had contacts and people he could go to in case things got thin, but he kept to himself as he didn't want anyone to get into danger for his benefit.

He installed the wires and activated the device with his finger, making it spur to life. He clicked on a few settings, eyes concentrating but still listening. They widened in excitement when there was a single line on the screen saying, 'ready for scan'.

He immediately put it on the table and got up, reaching into the box in the back. He rummaged around small items and books before he stopped his search as his eyes caught the light blue gaze. He reached a hand down and pulled out the light, admiring it in his hand as he turned it around.

It was a gem, an emerald to be specific but it wasn't ordinary, far from. It fitted perfectly into his hand, as his pupils almost washed out the blue in his eyes, admiring the shine as he got lost. He could feel it. The power twinkled at his fingertips, energy that wanted out of there, but it couldn't. He knew what this. And he had one. Shaking his head, he put the gem on the table, picking up his device and ran it over. The screen loaded, as he expectantly looked at the screen, his tails wailing up and down in slow strides.

He let out a defeated sigh once the screen said 'undetectable' despite him knowing what it already was. He had read it in a book once, one he had found tossed on the street by someone who wasn't superstitious. He wasn't either, but he believed in facts. He had seen books alike in other places, talking about something called chaos energy and emeralds that held that power. And when he had stumbled upon this light blue gem in a faraway corner in the city there was no doubt.

This was a chaos emerald. Books spoke about chaos wielders - mobians who could use and harness its powers, use it in a way unimaginable and bend nature itself. And maybe, just maybe, his childlike mind wondering if he maybe was one. First of all, he had found the gem and second of all he could feel it. He could feel the power, the way that it felt right in his hand, the way that he felt like he could draw from it, use it, he just didn't know how.

"Figures. Maybe it's too powerful to detect something like this. Maybe I should take it with me tomorrow," He shook the thought off of him, as he didn't dare take it with him. He had fought quiet a bit in the last days, and he was afraid that he might swipe his tails too much and it would fall out. He had felt the metal in his fur almost swipe out from his attacks today.

"You need to be more careful. Let's just look for a new place tomorrow and hopefully I can get it to work eventually," He thought, had taken to thinking when he had caught himself mumbling which was dangerous.

He sighed as he packed the items away, the device underneath the table and the gem back in the box. He closed the lid and took a moment to look at it, mind thinking and wondering whether or not it could be his ticket out of the city. But it was fruitless, since the borders of the city was guarded by soldiers who checked for anyone who came in and out of it. It was downright impossible - the thought crossing his mind many times, but he seemed to not get any solutions from it.

He got up from the box, and felt a yawn escape his mouth, first looking at the pallet before he scooted onto it, laying down on his side. The rough wood wasn't comfortable by any means, but it was better than the cold ground. With his arms underneath his head as a makeshift pillow he pulled his hooded cloak closer to himself, as his tails drew around his body as another blanket. His thoughts travelled around for a second, sighing in distant desire.

He wanted something else than this traditional and trivial survival - everyday he spent looking over his shoulder, never settling down and never taking down his guard. He was always aware of his surroundings, even now as he closed his eyes, he was never fully asleep. Always woke at the slightest sound, if it came from a lone frog or an owl it didn't matter, he woke up. He hadn't slept for a full nine hours yet, always waking up in between, running on adrenaline alone.

Though, he wished that it could change, that his daily routine could change, anything else but this. He just wished.

Author's note: First real chapter - hope it sparks some interest! It's gonna be a bit slow in the beginning but as the story progresses things should move along smoothly :)