This chapter is long. And there's paaaaaain.
I tried something new so you've got some of Roman's perspective in this. I expanded on his story a bit so there's kind of subplot in there now that wasn't supposed to be in here when I first started writing the story.
It should all tie down nicely at the end though. I hope you'll enjoy.
Have a good read!
Part 5.
It's been two weeks since Peter's left and Roman's anger hasn't lessened. That piece of gypsy shit! The second you start trusting him, the bastard goes off and leaves. What's there to do in Romania anyway? Nothing that's what! What a useless country it must be. Maybe if he'd gone to Fiji or something, Roman would have been more tolerant. Probably not though…
His office has been cleaned and cleared of any trace of damage. Like nothing ever happened. It bothers Roman. He had nothing to do with it, the cleaning was all done in his absence, probably another attempt from his assistance to please him. Asshole.
Everything's spotless, normal, but it's a fucking lie because things did happen and now Peter's gone. Roman hates him. And he hates his office. He wants to break everything again. He wants to see chaos and bits and pieces; that's how he feels inside. It's not supposed to look like this.
"You don't seem to be enjoying yourself very much." Cristian says from behind him.
He frowns and looks back:
"Oh yes! Right there!" He says sarcastically.
Roman is bent over his desk and waiting until the other boy is done fucking him. He sighs and grinds his teeth. He usually doesn't mind sex with Cristian, he's just not in the mood today... And that dick is taking his damn time too. But a deal's a deal.
"Do you want me to stop?" Cristian pants, with clearly no intention of stopping.
"Whatever! Just hurry it up I have a meeting."
That's a lie, and not a very convincing one. But Roman doesn't care if he believes him. Cristian adjusts his grip on Roman's hips and pounds into him harder. It hurts but Roman doesn't care for pain, especially now that he heals so much quicker than he used to. At least he feels a little more alive for it; it's good to be reminded that things can still physically harm him. It grounds him in a way.
Soon enough Cristian comes. When Roman turns around, he is facing down and removing the condom of his dick, so his face is hidden behind messy dark hair and for a second there something about him reminds Roman of Peter. His heart misses a beat and so he can't bare the sight of the gypsy anymore. He grabs him by the chin and forces Cristian to look in his eyes.
"Give it to me!" He orders.
He doesn't use his powers though. Roman doesn't like to use them much anymore, they remind of what he is now. It makes him hate himself more, he wants to try and be the most human he can be. If that means he can't make people bend to his wishes as often as he used to then so be it.
Cristian smirks, reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket and takes out a glass eyedropper filled with a clear liquid.
"Aren't we impatient today!" He teases, moving his hand away when Roman tries to reach for the object.
Turns out it isn't a very smart move on his part. Roman grabs him by the throat before he can see it coming and lifts him from the ground with one arm like it's no effort at all.
"Get this!" He sneers, articulating each syllable like he's talking to a small child. "I could easily make you give this to me with nothing in return. Do you understand?"
"Yes!" Cristian chokes, slightly turning blue in the face.
The sight of it pleases Roman and his lips stretch into a smile. He's pretty happy with himself now, when he was only disgusted a few seconds ago. Upirism does have its perks.
"You're lucky I have such a strong moral compass!" Roman finally says, lowering him done.
"I'm not your dog!" Cristian says when he's caught his breath. "You're forgetting you need me to make that shit. I'm kind enough to come to you whenever you call and what do it get in return…?"
"You get to come inside of me!" Roman deadpans. "But if you prefer money I'd be happy to oblige!" He adds with his nose up in the air.
"What's with you anyway? You usually don't complain about our arrangement."
Roman doesn't respond. Other than the fact that Peter's gone and he's been moping around, he has been feeling strangely edgy. He thinks that it's probably because he hasn't fed in a while, not since… Peter.
The drug that Cristian makes for him calms him down, diminishing the on going pull of the hunger. Because of it, Roman can feel normal again, to a certain extent. He can go days without feeding, or at least satisfying himself with only raw meat. And when the urge is too strong, a combination of Pryce's synthetic blood and a couple more drops calm him down completely. The only problem is that he feels drowsy for a while after he's used the liquid but it's a small price to pay.
"You can fuck off now!" He tells Cristian, who is still waiting on his answer.
The other boy shrugs, apparently not that interested in Roman's mood swings.
"Fine! See you next time!" He says, seeing himself out.
Roman waits until he's sure he won't run into Cristian again and he makes his way to Pryce's office.
Two weeks is much too long without food. It's just that these days, whenever Roman thinks about it, the thought makes him feel… queasy. Kind of like when you just had a very big lunch and somebody makes a graphic description of greasy dishes. Still, he thinks the lack of blood intake is beginning to take its toll. He's starting to be obsessed with the sound of a heart beating or the faint pulse of a vein when someone gets too close. And he's tired. He needs to do it.
"Roman!" The doctor says when he sees him, in a tone that could almost make it seem like he was happy to him, if it wasn't for the guarded look in his eyes.
"I'm hungry!" Roman replies, not even close to bothering with any formalities. "I trust your equipment must be fixed?" He adds with a glare.
Pryce gives him a small smile.
"Yes actually. It is. Please follow me."
He leads him to the back of his lab, into the room Roman has come to know so well in the last few months.
"You're lucky I don't make you pay for what you did!" He tells Pryce after he's had a glass of blood.
Pryce's smile only widens.
"Oh Roman!" He tells him, shaking his head patronizingly like he's some kind of fool. "Should I have some more packed for you?"
Roman sighs in defeat. He nods.
After he's done with Pryce and seen himself out, he heads home with a suitcase full of food. He promised he would spend the afternoon with Shelley and Nadia, the later often already asleep when he gets home. Roman is determined not to use Cristian's drug until later, to make sure he's completely awake during his time with his family.
"How are my two favourite girls?" He asks, as he walks in to find them in the living room.
Shelley smiles at him warmly.
"You sound like an old man Roman!" She remarks in amusement.
"You're right sis! The office life is corrupting me!" He replies, deposing his suitcase by the door and feeling, indeed, like an old man.
He walks to them and reaches for Nadia, who has been playing by Shelley's side with a couple of toys, but who is now extending her arms towards Roman expectantly.
But as he is about to take her into his arms, Roman's vision blurs and his head starts to spin. He is hit by a violent wave of nausea and barely has time to run to the kitchen before throwing up into the sink for what feels like an endless amount of time. Finally, he calms down, his stomach completely emptied. He watches, panting, as the stuff Pryce has given him runs down the drain, looking the same as it did when he had swallowed it earlier. It sickens him and feels sick again, but this time he only spits out bile. The nausea calms down a little but Roman's strength has abandoned him. He needs to lie down. He washes up the mess he's made, deleting all the evidence that points towards a sign of a weakness which could alarm his sister.
"What's wrong?" Shelley immediately asks when he's back into the living room.
"Nothing!" Roman says weakly. "I'm going to lie down for a bit."
"You don't look so well!" She insists, which means Roman must really look like shit because Shelley usually doesn't like insisting, always too afraid to impose.
"I'm fine! I'm just tired." He says, grimacing at his own lie.
She knows what he is. She knows he shouldn't be tired. But his head is pounding and all he wants to do is sleep.
He makes it to his room painfully, throws himself on his bed and passes out.
-HG-
Things were slow here. Nothing really happened.
It wasn't the same stillness he had known in Hemlock Grove, the kind that hid an inner turmoil that threatened to reveal itself at any time. Here, there wasn't anything hidden behind the apparent tranquillity. Things were just slow.
Lynda had been ecstatic to see Peter. She had run to him with opened arms as soon as she had spotted him at the airport. He was happy too of course, it just that at the time he was still feeling the effects of Destiny's homemade tranquilizers and so he hadn't been able to express his joy in such a physical way.
"My baby!" Lynda had said, covering his face in kisses, something she hadn't done since he was five. She must really have missed him.
"Gnnn!" Peter had replied, his face flat against her.
Luckily, Deidre had jumped in and explained to Lynda why Peter wasn't being particularly articulate, that is, even less than usual.
Then, the two women had gotten to know each other during the drive back home as Peter had fallen asleep at the back of the car. They got along suspiciously well, like mother and daughter. It was weird at first but then Peter let it go. It was actually convenient. Since that first day in Romania, he had made a habit of retrieving from any conversation and letting them speak like he wasn't there.
Lynda was living with a friend she had made, another gypsy named Irene, who was settled in a small wood near lake Zaghen on the outskirts of Tulcea, the city where she worked. Irene, who was a middle aged woman with neither a man or a child in her life, had been more than happy to make friends with Lynda, who brought joy everywhere she went. Irene worked in local bar where she had gotten Deidre a job that helped the younger woman to afford a bed in flat share.
Lynda spent her days with other gypsies, happy to be surrounded with her own people. The gypsy community was quite present in Tulcea, well more present than anywhere else Peter had ever been anyway. He wasn't particularly excited by that fact.
He spent most of his days inside Irene's cabin, smoking weed and staring at his old American phone. Peter has come to hate his phone. That piece of shit always remains stubbornly silent and so occasionally, Peter gets mad and sends it flying across the room in rage; but he is always quick to go and pick it up. Sometimes, he tries to leave it for a bit. Like he'll throw away the phone and decides to take a walk by the lake. He'll pretend he's enjoying the gust of wind on his face and the smell of still water and earth, but his pace will quicken near the end of the walk and he'll end up bursting back into the cabin, eager to reach for his device. He thinks maybe because he's left it behind for a while it'll display something new now that he's returned. It never does.
He has to restrain himself during the evening because literally everyone has notice the phone thing. Lynda, Irene, Deidre, her roommates who she brings over sometimes, yeah everyone.
Comments range from "are you waiting for a call" to "will you drop the damn phone?" without forgetting the "so what's her name then?"
Peter tries to be subtle about it. He leaves the phone in his room when they're eating diner. He turns it off and buries it under a mattress.
But this one night where she's off, Deidre takes him out for drinks to her bar, along with a couple of friends. Peter has to take the phone because what if there's an emergency and Lynda needs to reach him? Everyone is cheerful, smoking and talking at the back of the bar, about their plans for the future or just life in general. Peter loses track of the conversation after a couple of pints. He ends up engaging in a staring contest with the screen of the old Samsung for the entire night, not even avoiding his eyes when he gulps down his drinks.
He doesn't know for how long this lasts but by the end of the night he is ridiculously drunk and Deidre has to get two of her friends to help her carry him home.
"Come on man!" One of them tells him as he is dragging Peter out of the bar. "Life is too short! Don't waste it moping on whoever's done a number on you."
"Yeah!" The other adds in a thick Romanian accent. "It's not worth it!"
Peter passes out thinking he used to be just like them, not asking anything of anyone, not giving anything in return. He thinks things were so much easier before he met Roman.
When he wakes up the next day, it's late in the afternoon and Lynda is sitting by his bedside. She hands him a greenish concoction.
"For the hangover!" She explains.
After he's done, she takes a small Nokia out of her jacket.
"I got you a phone. Using the American one was probably costing a fortune."
Peter wants to object because how are they ever going to find him and make him pay for the bills now anyway? But then he thinks it's better this way and so he doesn't ask what she's done with the old one.
-HG-
When Roman comes to, it's way passed midnight. He can tell because the sun has gone down and there isn't a single sound coming from anywhere inside the house. He would hear it if someone was still awake and moving, Roman has a very good hearing now.
He looks around his room, recalling what happened. That's right Pryce's formula had made him sick! What the fuck? Roman wonders if the doctor is trying to poison him… It's entirely plausible that Olivia wants him gone, that bitch! He is filled with rage at the thought of his mother. Next time Roman gets a chance to kill her, he'll make sure she actually stays dead, even if that's the last thing he does!
He is taken away from his thought by a sudden bust of hunger. It's so overwhelming it is all he can think about and he has to put a hand on his nose to prevent himself from smelling out the nearest source of blood inside his own house. He has to get himself together quickly! He cant' risk attacking Shelley or Nadia, even though he thinks he would never let it get to that. He couldn't hurt them, even like this in frenzy, desperate for blood. But besides them, he also doesn't want to attack any of the servants during their sleep. He doesn't care for them much but what would Shelley think?
Roman takes a deep breath through his mouth and tries to calm down. He's so hungry, he'd give anything for some blood. He reaches inside his pockets and when he finds the eyedropper faithfully waiting for him he laughs in relief. He pours the liquid into his eyes, instantly feeling it's effect and he sighs contently. This is much better. He's less of risk now.
Roman gets up. His head spins so much he feels drunk and he nearly falls back on the bed. He still needs to feed and he can't count on Pryce's stuff, that motherfucker! He'll have to deal with him later. But tonight Roman needs real blood. Human blood.
For a second he wishes Peter was here, so he could feed on him. And then he hates himself for thinking it! He had hurt Peter and by doing so, had urged him to leave. In truth he was the only one to blame for Peter's departure. He knew Peter had been having a hard time resisting the urge to turn and fending off the animal inside that threatened to overtake him completely. And Roman understood that fight, himself facing a similar challenge each day.
But instead of helping Peter, of shielding him away from Roman's own darkness, which was the very least he could do, he had drank his blood! He had drink from Peter and the worst was that he had loved it. Even now, even after his actions had driven Peter to leave and he hated himself for it, he couldn't think back to that faithful moment and be disgusted by it. Nothing, in Roman's entire life, had ever felt so right, so good. Two weeks later and still the taste of Peter's blood taunted him. He craved it like nothing else and the though of it alone was making him shake with want. And that reaction, his own reaction, repulsed him. He had used his friend as sustenance and not only had he liked it, he couldn't stop looking back on it as the best thing that had ever happened to him.
Roman hates Peter for leaving but mostly he hates himself for driving him to it. It was probably better that way, better that Peter had left before he could be entangled even more deeply into the disaster that his existence had become.
Roman drives to the nearest bar he can find in a sort of dream like state. He knows what he is doing but it's like it's not really him doing it. It always gets like this when the hunger overtakes him. He can't do anything to stop it and is driven helplessly towards his next victim with no power left within him to prevent the attack.
As he walks into the crowded place, he quickly picks on a woman that is standing alone in a corner, away from the rest. Everyone is looking at the band that is playing that night and so Roman easily gets the girl to leave with him, unnoticed. Soon, they are inside his car.
"Don't move. Don't scream. This doesn't hurt." He commands looking into her eyes.
The girl smiles at him. It makes him sick. But still, he bites into her neck, trying his very best to be careful, like he had been with Peter. He hadn't left a very distinct mark on him, and Peter's wound had healed quickly. Possibly because he was a werewolf but maybe, also, because Roman had been gentle with him. He was hoping if he did the same with this girl, her wound wouldn't hurt too much. He drank from her slowly and cautiously. Her blood didn't taste very good which Roman thought strange. But he was glad for it, it made it easier for him not to get too carried away while feeding.
When he was done, he grabbed a tissue and applied it against his victim's neck.
"Hold this." He tells her.
After cleaning himself off, he thinks he should drive to a drug store to buy some antiseptic and bandages so he can treat the girl's wound. But before he has the chance to do any of this, his stomach cramps up again and, feeling even worse than he had before, Roman throws up all over himself. There's blood everywhere. He feels his vision starting to blur.
"Are you alright?" The girl asks.
"Go home!" Roman manages to say. "This never happened."
The girl has no other choice but to obey and she leaves, already forgetting what has happened to her.
"Shit!" Roman groans. His head feels like it is about to explode and the smell of blood is making it worse. He's pretty sure he's going to pass out… but he can't! What if somebody finds him like this? In one last effort, he grabs his phone and looks for Pryce's number. He's sure the doctor will help him as it wouldn't be in his or Olivia's best interest if Roman was found covered in blood in his car.
"Roman?" He hears Pryce say on the end.
"What did you do?" Roman pants.
He aims for an aggressive tone but it sounds more like desperate cry than anything else.
"I'm not sure what you're implying…" Pryce replies.
"You poisoned the blood you gave me earlier! Admit it!"
There is silence one the other end, like Pryce is unsure what to say which is a first. Than:
"I can assure you that I didn't. What's going on?"
Roman doesn't bother explaining. Instead he asks Pryce to pick him up and tells him where to find him.
Before losing consciousness, his thinks how sad his life has become that he only has Pryce left to ask for help, a man he hates and who's probably out to kill him.
-HG-
Peter fucks with Deidre sometimes. He knew it would happen eventually, the way she always lingered around him and smiling, finding excuses to touch him.
She's the one who makes the first move one night, as they're alone at Irene's and bored. Peter isn't at ease because of what happened before he left Hemlock. He can't help thinking about the nurse. He knows Deidre wants it but he can't help it, he's afraid to hurt her. His touch is slow and careful, guarded. It's barely a graze when his hands feel up her breast, and he holds himself above her with strength, not really daring to actually let go and settle his body against hers. She ends up riding him, her head thrown back in bliss, while he looks at her quietly not really sure what to do. He reads her expression, looking for any sign of discomfort or pain. He feels like he's taking advantage of her even though he isn't.
"I don't need anything from you." She tells him when its over and they're lying together in his bed.
"I know."
"I mean I don't expect you to… I know it's not like that for us!" She whispers, moving her fingers through his hair.
Something lifts from his chest and the sex gets better after that. It is always slow, languid on the verge of being sensual but never quite getting there. It's nice though, familiar and comforting. Peter can't really say he doesn't enjoy it because he does. He just never really manages to let go, to let his body take over and speak for itself.
Deidre never complains about it though. She's patient, a good friend to Peter. She's just what he needs. She's light and she lives her life day by day, enjoying but never really taking part of the ride. Rather, she looks on from the outside and takes what she needs, leaving out anything like pain or responsibility. She cares without really caring. She's the way Peter had been, once, the way he would like to be again.
He knows that's what she would like too, for him. She's a true gypsy and this is why she gets on so well with Lynda. Lynda wants this for him as well, wants for Peter to embrace the gypsy way and be faithful to nothing but his people, his pack.
Peter feels like it's impossible. But when he's with Deidre, when he moves inside of her and closes his eyes, he can pretend like it is.
One day, Peter wakes up feeling peacefully calm and rested. A light gleam of sun pierces through the window and the room is bathed in the warmth of its glow. Deidre's by his side, humming a soft tune, and this feels close to happiness. Close to the way things were.
And then Deidre settles next to him and asks:
"Did you and Roman ever… I mean was there more?"
And Peter's heart starts to hurt again.
"No." He says, looking away. "Not really. Nothing that counts anyway." He adds, thinking about their night with Miranda. But he doesn't want to think about that and so he asks: "Why?"
Deidre sends him a small smile and she looks away. It seems like she isn't going to reply until she whispers:
"You say his name in your sleep."
Peter shrugs, pretends he doesn't know what she means. They try to act like it's nothing and that it doesn't change anything. But they stop sleeping together.
-HG-
Roman is awoken by a mind consuming hunger. The first thing he notices is that he's in one of the White Tower's hospital rooms. The second is that Pryce is standing in front of him. He jumps up, ready to throw himself at him to drink but he is pinned back down on his bed by strong arms.
"There, there darling! Be a good boy. You're much too weak to be attacking people."
Roman is so appalled upon recognizing his mother's presence that it actually deters his attention from Pryce and his oh-so-tempting arteries.
"The fuck?!" He exclaims.
"You've been asleep for a week. We were very worried!" Olivia coos, caressing his cheek.
Roman shoves her away violently.
"Don't touch me!"
Olivia rolls her eyes at her son and hands him a cup filled with blood.
"Stop being such a baby and drink!"
Roman gulps the content of the cup down before he can even think about objecting. He's too hungry and confused to worry about it being poisoned.
"What's she doing here?" he snaps at Pryce when he's done.
"You weren't waking up. I thought it might have something to do with this!" Pryce answers, showing him the eyedropper that Cristian has given him. "I found traces of it in your blood stream and recognized it as something Olivia's own blood has often displayed as well, in smaller quantity may I add. So I reached out to her to find out if that could be the thing making you sick."
"Obviously you still can't control yourself around mind-numbing substances darling!" Olivia patronizes.
"Stop gloating!" Roman warns. "I'll be better soon! Don't even think of using this as an opportunity to get to Nadia!"
A pout spreads on Olivia's graceful features.
"I know you'll find it hard to believe but I don't like seeing you sick Roman! You're still my son no matter how hard you wish that wasn't true." She tries reaching for him.
"All I want is to be part of your life again!"
Roman sends her an impressive death stare.
"Roman!" Pryce intervenes. "Olivia truly has your best interest at heart. Maybe listening to her would prevent you from having other… incidents?"
"You!" Roman points accusingly at Pryce. "You poisoned me, you're trying to manipulate me into forgiving her?"
"I didn't poison you! We found nothing wrong with you apart from physical signs of malnourishment and a strong amount of this drug in your blood stream, so if someone's been poisoning you, it's yourself. All traces of the drug are gone now so you should be able to feed normally again."
"You're so pale Roman!" Olivia adds. "You've lost weight. I know it's tempting to use these drops often but don't fool yourself into thinking you can survive without blood."
"I've tried feeding and it made me sick!" Roman protests weakly, feeling his vision starting to blur again.
"You should be fine now that the drug-"
Pryce is cut off mid-sentence when Roman throws up the blood he was just given by his bed.
"What's going on?" Olivia demands in a tensed voice. "I thought you said he would be able to feed again now?
The light of the hospital room feels too bright for Roman's eyes, he is blinded by all the white that surrounds him and by the harsh contrast of the clinical floors damped in dark red blood. His brain feels like it's dissolving and is going to leak out of his ears. He sighs and let his head drop back on the pillow.
"I don't understand!" Pryce says. "I've found nothing in his tests result which would explain why he can't hold anything down. Maybe we could try feeding him intravenously? "
It's the last thing Roman hears before everything goes black.
-HG-
The wolf is calm now. But not in a peaceful way, more in a deflated, defeated kind of way. Peter can feel it, always, in the back of his mind. It's quiet but it's there.
He doesn't feel the need to turn often. But sometimes he has nightmares and he wakes with his hands covered in fur and his ribs piercing out. It's painful but he fights it, he bites into his pillow and he forces the beast to calm down, prevents it from breaking out.
The nightmares all involve Roman some way or another.
They all start in a nice way. Sometimes, they're together, walking or sitting side by side, exchanging jokes, their shoulders close.
Sometimes there's more to it than that and Peter dreams he is touching him, allowing his hands to trace down his body and reveling in the way Roman's breath strains at each touch. He dreams of a violent heat traveling through him in waves, of taking Roman into his mouth and working him so earnestly that when his orgasm washes through him, he's crying out Peter's name. Except he says another name, and suddenly Peter is watching from the outside as Roman loses himself in someone else's arms and Peter wants to scream.
Or worse, he dreams that Roman is hurt, right in front of him, and Peter cannot help. He wakes with a few cracked bones and bad feeling in his balls.
But Peter's determined not to let anything show. He thinks if he hides the wolf well enough and everybody believes he is better, he will actually get better. Maybe it's working because Peter has more and more trouble remembering his dreams by the time a full month has passed.
With the full moon, he turns with no excitement. The wolf takes over and walks around, passively. He sits by the lake and watches the moon but he has no taste for the chase. There's no violence, there's no joy.
When it's over and he turns back he is drained and he passes out in a dreamless sleep. One month to go. One month to last before he is allowed to turn again.
-HG-
He floats in and out of consciousness.
Sometimes he wakes up to find himself being sick again. He vomits and he falls back asleep. Sometimes, he thinks Shelley is there speaking to him but he isn't sure what she is saying. Sometimes he hears Nadia cry and he so desperately want to move and take her in his arms but he can't. He can't move, he's too tired. Everything hurts. His throat burns. His stomach twitches in pain. He's so nauseous he can't breath properly.
He feels like he's been moved at some point, but he doesn't know where. He's in a nicer bed now, perhaps back. People come and go in his room but he can't tell whom it is. A man comes in at some point. He asks him questions but Roman's too tired to answer them.
Ultimately, sleep always takes over.
Sometimes he sees Peter. But he knows it must be a dream. He knows Peter is gone. Peter has left him and Roman told him never to come back. He did it to make sure he wouldn't hope for Peter's return, every single day for the rest of his life. At least like this he could go on and pretend it was sort of his decision too.
But Roman is happy to see him in his dream, even if it's never for really long. Peter is happy too he thinks, usually. He smiles at him.
Except this one time, Peter is by his side but instead of being happy when he looks at him he is worried.
"You don't look so good." He says. "Are you ok?"
"No." Roman replies." I'm dying."
Once he sees Letha and she begs:
"Don't you dare Roman! Don't you dare give up!"
But it only makes him want to give up more because he's the reason she's dead.
-HG-
Peter jumps in his bed. He wants to scream but instead, he howls.
Something terrible is about to happen.
End of Part.5
I hope the two points of views weren't too confusing. And I hope to hear what you think!
By the way, does anyone know what the eyedrops are called? Like do they actually have a name or...? If anyone knows I'll include the name in the chapter, would be very useful! Thanks!