You can, but it affects my mood. You want to deal with it, that's on you.
(No feelings. No empathy, nothing. Even after she's back to normal, she's still a little empty afterwards. It's very inviting sometimes, to just stay like that for as long as possible, but no. That's not where she wants to end up, and well. It's not even like she's used to it, she hardly ever uses this form.
The visual that Clea brings to mind is sort of accurate, her clothes also turn diamond with her, become part of her skin for as long as she wills it to. She's just... Not a brawler. Her best use is sitting far from any situation that might require it and telepathically aiding others.
She'll leave the girl's hair be, instead taking out the products she knows that won't aid her, and leaving the ones who will in the baggy. Clea can take them.)
For neither. I mean, there are some nerds, you might want to ask them if they can get it done, but you have to be very specific for composition or whatever. As for haircuts, I'm the one who cuts mine and, uh, some others in this place, because if I don't do it, I don't think they will.
[ Clea has no desire to see Sophie hurt herself. She hadn't known that was a possibility. She would not ask to proceed without a full accounting of the costs, both to Sophie and to herself. If it is merely a question of unpleasantness, Clea is fully capable of leaving. However, returning someone's favor and assistance by asking them to do something that would hurt them would be a poor way to return kindness.
Of course there are no hairdressers. Why would anything be easy? Clea can't help but sigh. ]
I appreciate the information. I will attend to my hair myself.
[ Sophie is quite busy and it isn't her duty to take care of Clea. Clea can trim her own hair.
They wouldn't cut their own hair? Clea raises a judgmental eyebrow. ]
Do they not notice? I've been without proper hair care for a week and I already am feeling the situation add to my madness.
[ Everything here is strange and uncontrollable. There are electric iceboxes, everything is made out of some weird light material that feels wrong, the 'apartments' are sterile, her Papa's copy is here, and her hair doesn't feel right. ]
(Feel nothing. No hunger, no temperature, no feelings, no empathy. Nothingness, which, well, it's not horrible or anything, she can control when she turns completely — it just makes her a little more unpleasant than she already is.
A little shrug ensues. Julian just humors her, lets her take care of his hair. It makes her happy, and it's one less thing for him to think about, she supposes. Also, with his hands being metal prothestics, it is probably a bitch to deal with. No complaints all around?)
That guy doesn't think of it a whole lot. It's good, though, he's like, super handsome, so letting me have my little claws on his hair is honestly a win-win situation.
[ When they've both prepared and when Clea has supplies to capture her essence. And some way of returning the favor. It clearly is more of a process than Clea would have expected, and thus should only be requested once. She needs to make the most of her opportunities and it would not do to inadvertently display disrespect.
Ah. That is quite understandable. Clea glances over at Sophie with a smile and a slight gleam in her eyes. ]
We are quite spoiled in one regard - there are very pleasant sights to see here.
That does sound rather advantageous. How does he feel about you? Has he turned that delicious shade of red around you?
[ She does like seeing handsome men blush and stammer. ]
(She loves girl talk, and boy, does she love to talk about men, but this one in particular? Blushing? Julian Keller, Hellion? Not a thing she can imagine, and definitely not for her.
God forbid, what a strange sight, and it elicits a laugh out of Sophie, her eyes rolling solely because the mental image is just so foreign to her.)
Oh, God, no. Not the blushing type, and it's probably not like that.
(Probably. God knows what happens in Keller's head. If there is one mind Sophie respects, it's Julian's, solely because he can and has kicked her out, and it's rather unpleasant and painful.)
[ That hadn't been the result Clea intended, but it's nice to hear Sophie laugh. The entire conversation is nice, actually. It's...ordinary. Normal. Not very much has been normal in Clea's life recently. How strange to find that feeling in a place which is decidedly not ordinary.
If the cost is Clea looking foolish, she'll pay it. ]
I see. Probably. That's not a 'certainly.'
[ The question is, does Sophie want it to be 'like that', or is she content to admire him from afar? Or close by, as the case may be. ]
Piece of advice about mutants. My people, if you will. Nothing is easy, we are all super fucked up in the head, no one is normal, we are all in survival mode twenty-four-seven. Probably means literally anything.
(As in, everyone is just a nightmare when it comes to feelings. Sophie is no exception, there are two boys in that house she's slept with, and telepaths? Definitely not the ones you want, and Sophie has got two others.
[ Clea doesn't say it, but a thought does run through her mind before she can stop it: 'Oh, so you're all English?' Some things are completely unconscious, such as the completely reasonable urge to mock those across the Channel. ]
What if I was?
[ Given the tone of Clea's voice, it's obvious she doesn't mean it, even without the benefit of telepathy. Unless she really dislikes someone, she tries not to pursue a man that someone else has expressed interest in. She's teasing. Clea sighs. ]
Unfortunately, I prefer the blushing ones. Maybe you have the right idea: The ones I like are a lot of work.
(No, just American. Although technically? Sophie was made in London, but she isn't... Well, she wasn't born or anything like that. The first thing she remembers, really, is Xavier's, as (almost) pictured on the grounds they stand on, with her sisters as an identical teen quintet. What a time.)
I mean, 90% sure he wouldn't go for humans, so unless I smelled you wrong?
(She doesn't come with a non-human detector, that's wholly unneeded in Etraya to start with. That said, Sophie herself wouldn't go for humans either. It's already so strange to her to be talking to them, interacting and, ugh, caring for two.
Etraya has many surprises.)
Oh, girl. Any man is a lot of work. Their flustering has nothing to do with it.
[ Clea doesn't understand. Are mutants not human? Or are clones not human? They all seem human enough. What abilities would make someone not human? Some people used to considers Painters witches, but that isn't the same as not being human.
This is all quite confusing. Is it politics? Those are so dreary.
It is a new form of rejection, but not one Clea takes personally. It's similar to finding out someone only wants men in their bed, and she truly isn't interested. ]
That's true enough. And women are simply a different form of work.
(It's more about the genetic component, really. The X-Gene all mutants share, and politics are a huge part of it. Humans have hated them since, well, forever — politics always plays a part.)
Simply put, all work. And, if you're wondering, which I know you are, magic is a different ordeal.
I see. It's a shame mutants aren't less work, but that would be too easy.
[ Human or not, apparently that particular suffering translates.
Magic. Is Painting magic? Clea frowns slightly, lost in thought. She'd always been told never to call it that, but is it? She isn't certain. Apparently, there are mutants. People with superpowers. And people with magic? Which are all different somehow?
Her thoughts drift towards her discussion with Dr. Crane. About people with abilities judging those without. Level playing fields. And her encounter with the giant, who could see her Gift and certainly had an opinion about it. ]
I don't know what it is. What I would be.
[ And she does not like that. There is apparently context she was missing from earlier conversations. ]
(Not that it's too deep here, she doesn't think. Naturally, her instinct is to trust no one too much — how many mutants have gone through hell simply for existing, and that's not even the worst that has happened to them as a people. On top of that, telepaths? Not a particularly fond type of mutant. Memory altering, planting ideas, puppeteering, all things well within the skillset of someone like Sophie, and her? She didn't get her powers after years of being just a "human". She came into this world a fully formed telepath as a teenager; she'll leave it as such.
That said, different worlds, different standards, different genes, different dynamics. She can't speak for mutantdom. God forbid.)
It's different for everyone, isn't it? To some people here, magic is genetic, to me, magic is is different.
[ Clea still doesn't like this situation. She's always known where she fit. Who she is. Genetic. That's something that someone is born with. She thinks. Clea finds herself wishing she'd pursued more of a scientific education, but she isn't certain it would have done her any good. ]
What is magic to you?
[ This all must be absolute nattering to the girl. Clea's level of understanding is too low - she feels like a new painter in the Louvre, unable to make sense of what's around her. ]
How do you stand people? I barely manage and they have to speak their inane thoughts for me to be aware of them. You have to listen to everyone's idiocy.
Utilizing certain energies and extra-dimensional forces, mostly. We don't... Like, we aren't here talking to the universe to grant us these things, or connecting to something. It just is. Go figure.
(But hey, another laugh, because the funny thing is? She's such an asshole. It's impossible for her not to be one.)
Oh, yeah, millions of them, usually. Who says I do? There is not a single telepath who isn't to some degree super done with people, I guarantee it.
[ She still doesn't fully understand, but that is not Sophie's problem. Clea resolves to investigate what all this means on her own time. Clea momentarily returns her attention to the hair products, then back up at Sophie. If she understands the hair products, then... ]
The maquillage. Makeup. Do you know which ones are worth our time?
[ Having seen the array of colors, Clea had taken some home. And immediately been disappointed with the lack of pigment or how the powder fell everywhere. Some of them could be repurposed for art, but some of them are simply...terrible. ]
If you want me to depart, you only need say.
[ Not just now in particular, but in general. Clea has no interest in forcing her company on someone who has tired from it. ]
Yeah, I'll send you a list of stuff that's good. I live off of this stuff, so I know what I'm talking about.
(Her room is honestly a mess of packages, outfits, brushes, sponges, nail polishes and eyeshadow. She's vain, if the outfit doesn't say as much, or the perfectly manicured nails, the wing as sharp as if she calculated the exact angle. She's just... Like that. Not comfortable unelss she's perfect.)
No, don't worry. I speak to you because I want to. Most of us get our gifts when we're children or teens, I was literally made with mine built-in, so I'm used to it. If I don't feel like talking to you, you'll definitely know it.
[ Sophie's presentation is subtlety immaculate - the type of presentation that looks effortless but is far from such. The steadiness of the hand needed to apply her eyeliner along with the understanding of what would look best with her face showed an attention to detail which Clea finds admirable. If Sophie does something, she does it well. She approves.
Clea would not ask for advice from the incompetent. ]
Good.
[ She's always preferred people who can assert themselves. People with spines. ]
I appreciate the assistance. My hair and I both owe you a debt.
(Of course Sophie can read all this appreciation, thank you for thinking she's gorgeous (because that's what she took away from all these thoughts). Please, do not fall in love, Clea, she knows it's hard, but make an effort (she's vain and conceited).
But here's a shrug as she gives the woman the baggy with all the goods. There's nothing in there she can't get easily in a little trip.)
Nah, you don't, you're doing me a favor. I need estrogen in my life.
[ Although Clea isn't entirely certain what 'estrogen' is, she still understands the sentiment well enough. She takes the bag, accepting it as the gift it is and meticulously arranging everything inside of it to stay closed and upright before tying the bag off in a neat and perfect bow, holding it in her lap with her hands resting lightly on top. ]
Thank you.
[ She pauses. ]
Please don't tell me all of the clothes in those stores are things people try to wear.
[ Clea understands that different worlds and times will have different sartorial standards, but there are some items she saw that were... she would give them as gifts to her enemies. Knee high bright yellow wool athletic socks. Baggy shorts that went just past the knee. Never mind the absolutely hideous construction of some garments. Arm holes that were elongated ovals. Unfinished hems. ]
Maybe we should burn them and do everyone a favor.
(She can see the images that Clea is summoning to her mind, and yeah, while they do all suck tremendously, there is something to be said about her own fashion. It's like the woman came out of a historical novel, and ugh, that needs to be fixed.
Probably. As far as Sophie Cuckoo is concerned, at least.)
I'd gladly burn all the ugly shit we find, but we do need to take care of your fashion too, girl. You're like, in the wrong century.
[ Sophie isn't wrong. While Clea has a good eye, she is aware that she is 'behind'. There's a reason she's been spending most of her time in the library inhaling books on art post 1910. ]
How bad is it?
[ Hopefully, she doesn't look like one of those mid century Americans in giant hoop skirts and dresses made of fabric that looked like the pattern was designed via die roll. Or those horrid bonnets, or the truly elderly ladies who still thought they were in the time of Louis XVI.
To stagnate is to become complacent. Complacency is the enemy of creativity. ]
Why limit ourselves to the sartorial rules of any time period? We can do better.
You look like you're about to knock on my door and ask if I have a minute to talk about religion.
(So, yeah, could improve, unless that's the vibe Clea wants to give, and in that case, Sophie won't bitch. That said, Sophie has a very Barbie girl style of fashion, and she wouldn't really allow Clea to suffer through understanding what makes sense and what doesn't in fashion on her own.)
I'll talk to the girls, and see if we can do a makeover on you.
[ That's disgusting and distressing, but Clea appreciates the honesty. She can't help but make a face at the news; that is certainly not how she wants to come across. Though it might keep people from speaking to her, which would be positive. ]
I assure you, I'd rather clean the banks of the Seine than discuss religion.
[ And she's not particularly fond of manual labor. ]
More opinions would be useful, if they're informed opinions.
[ If they share Sophie's eye, their input is welcome. ]
I would aspire to terrifying practicality.
[ Her clothes need to be suitable for sculpting and painting, but if she can intimidate people while walking down the street, all the better. To wear armor that renders her untouchable, beyond anyone's insipid opinions. ]
Wow, you are so French. Is America a thing where you're from?
(She asks, solely because who knows. It's not like she's taking the deepest dive in Clea lore through her brain, that is reserved for versions of people she knows, just in case. The differences between her world and their world just got to be seen, just in case she has to explain something, and she's not that great at the explaining.)
I wouldn't call them my girls if they weren't great. Practicality, however, not my thing. My saving-the-world-doing-missions-etc uniform comes with platform boots.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2025-07-09 01:11 pm (UTC)(No feelings. No empathy, nothing. Even after she's back to normal, she's still a little empty afterwards. It's very inviting sometimes, to just stay like that for as long as possible, but no. That's not where she wants to end up, and well. It's not even like she's used to it, she hardly ever uses this form.
The visual that Clea brings to mind is sort of accurate, her clothes also turn diamond with her, become part of her skin for as long as she wills it to. She's just... Not a brawler. Her best use is sitting far from any situation that might require it and telepathically aiding others.
She'll leave the girl's hair be, instead taking out the products she knows that won't aid her, and leaving the ones who will in the baggy. Clea can take them.)
For neither. I mean, there are some nerds, you might want to ask them if they can get it done, but you have to be very specific for composition or whatever. As for haircuts, I'm the one who cuts mine and, uh, some others in this place, because if I don't do it, I don't think they will.
no subject
Date: 2025-07-10 12:35 pm (UTC)[ Clea has no desire to see Sophie hurt herself. She hadn't known that was a possibility. She would not ask to proceed without a full accounting of the costs, both to Sophie and to herself. If it is merely a question of unpleasantness, Clea is fully capable of leaving. However, returning someone's favor and assistance by asking them to do something that would hurt them would be a poor way to return kindness.
Of course there are no hairdressers. Why would anything be easy? Clea can't help but sigh. ]
I appreciate the information. I will attend to my hair myself.
[ Sophie is quite busy and it isn't her duty to take care of Clea. Clea can trim her own hair.
They wouldn't cut their own hair? Clea raises a judgmental eyebrow. ]
Do they not notice? I've been without proper hair care for a week and I already am feeling the situation add to my madness.
[ Everything here is strange and uncontrollable. There are electric iceboxes, everything is made out of some weird light material that feels wrong, the 'apartments' are sterile, her Papa's copy is here, and her hair doesn't feel right. ]
no subject
Date: 2025-07-10 12:46 pm (UTC)(Feel nothing. No hunger, no temperature, no feelings, no empathy. Nothingness, which, well, it's not horrible or anything, she can control when she turns completely — it just makes her a little more unpleasant than she already is.
A little shrug ensues. Julian just humors her, lets her take care of his hair. It makes her happy, and it's one less thing for him to think about, she supposes. Also, with his hands being metal prothestics, it is probably a bitch to deal with. No complaints all around?)
That guy doesn't think of it a whole lot. It's good, though, he's like, super handsome, so letting me have my little claws on his hair is honestly a win-win situation.
no subject
Date: 2025-07-10 02:23 pm (UTC)[ When they've both prepared and when Clea has supplies to capture her essence. And some way of returning the favor. It clearly is more of a process than Clea would have expected, and thus should only be requested once. She needs to make the most of her opportunities and it would not do to inadvertently display disrespect.
Ah. That is quite understandable. Clea glances over at Sophie with a smile and a slight gleam in her eyes. ]
We are quite spoiled in one regard - there are very pleasant sights to see here.
That does sound rather advantageous. How does he feel about you? Has he turned that delicious shade of red around you?
[ She does like seeing handsome men blush and stammer. ]
no subject
Date: 2025-07-10 03:46 pm (UTC)God forbid, what a strange sight, and it elicits a laugh out of Sophie, her eyes rolling solely because the mental image is just so foreign to her.)
Oh, God, no. Not the blushing type, and it's probably not like that.
(Probably. God knows what happens in Keller's head. If there is one mind Sophie respects, it's Julian's, solely because he can and has kicked her out, and it's rather unpleasant and painful.)
no subject
Date: 2025-07-10 08:24 pm (UTC)If the cost is Clea looking foolish, she'll pay it. ]
I see. Probably. That's not a 'certainly.'
[ The question is, does Sophie want it to be 'like that', or is she content to admire him from afar? Or close by, as the case may be. ]
If he's not the blushing type, what type is he?
no subject
Date: 2025-07-10 09:05 pm (UTC)(As in, everyone is just a nightmare when it comes to feelings. Sophie is no exception, there are two boys in that house she's slept with, and telepaths? Definitely not the ones you want, and Sophie has got two others.
There's a shrug that comes from her.)
Dependable, hard-edge type. Why, interested?
no subject
Date: 2025-07-10 11:30 pm (UTC)What if I was?
[ Given the tone of Clea's voice, it's obvious she doesn't mean it, even without the benefit of telepathy. Unless she really dislikes someone, she tries not to pursue a man that someone else has expressed interest in. She's teasing. Clea sighs. ]
Unfortunately, I prefer the blushing ones. Maybe you have the right idea: The ones I like are a lot of work.
[ They're so cute though. ]
no subject
Date: 2025-07-11 12:34 am (UTC)I mean, 90% sure he wouldn't go for humans, so unless I smelled you wrong?
(She doesn't come with a non-human detector, that's wholly unneeded in Etraya to start with. That said, Sophie herself wouldn't go for humans either. It's already so strange to her to be talking to them, interacting and, ugh, caring for two.
Etraya has many surprises.)
Oh, girl. Any man is a lot of work. Their flustering has nothing to do with it.
no subject
Date: 2025-07-11 01:04 am (UTC)[ Clea doesn't understand. Are mutants not human? Or are clones not human? They all seem human enough. What abilities would make someone not human? Some people used to considers Painters witches, but that isn't the same as not being human.
This is all quite confusing. Is it politics? Those are so dreary.
It is a new form of rejection, but not one Clea takes personally. It's similar to finding out someone only wants men in their bed, and she truly isn't interested. ]
That's true enough. And women are simply a different form of work.
[ So that's no reprieve. ]
no subject
Date: 2025-07-11 01:10 am (UTC)(It's more about the genetic component, really. The X-Gene all mutants share, and politics are a huge part of it. Humans have hated them since, well, forever — politics always plays a part.)
Simply put, all work. And, if you're wondering, which I know you are, magic is a different ordeal.
no subject
Date: 2025-07-11 01:45 am (UTC)[ Human or not, apparently that particular suffering translates.
Magic. Is Painting magic? Clea frowns slightly, lost in thought. She'd always been told never to call it that, but is it? She isn't certain. Apparently, there are mutants. People with superpowers. And people with magic? Which are all different somehow?
Her thoughts drift towards her discussion with Dr. Crane. About people with abilities judging those without. Level playing fields. And her encounter with the giant, who could see her Gift and certainly had an opinion about it. ]
I don't know what it is. What I would be.
[ And she does not like that. There is apparently context she was missing from earlier conversations. ]
no subject
Date: 2025-07-11 02:04 am (UTC)That said, different worlds, different standards, different genes, different dynamics. She can't speak for mutantdom. God forbid.)
It's different for everyone, isn't it? To some people here, magic is genetic, to me, magic is is different.
no subject
Date: 2025-07-11 02:14 am (UTC)What is magic to you?
[ This all must be absolute nattering to the girl. Clea's level of understanding is too low - she feels like a new painter in the Louvre, unable to make sense of what's around her. ]
How do you stand people? I barely manage and they have to speak their inane thoughts for me to be aware of them. You have to listen to everyone's idiocy.
comics are a mess and this is probably correct but if not i close my eyes and go
Date: 2025-07-11 02:52 am (UTC)(But hey, another laugh, because the funny thing is? She's such an asshole. It's impossible for her not to be one.)
Oh, yeah, millions of them, usually. Who says I do? There is not a single telepath who isn't to some degree super done with people, I guarantee it.
I'm canonblind so luckily I can't tell! *finger guns*
Date: 2025-07-11 02:43 pm (UTC)The maquillage. Makeup. Do you know which ones are worth our time?
[ Having seen the array of colors, Clea had taken some home. And immediately been disappointed with the lack of pigment or how the powder fell everywhere. Some of them could be repurposed for art, but some of them are simply...terrible. ]
If you want me to depart, you only need say.
[ Not just now in particular, but in general. Clea has no interest in forcing her company on someone who has tired from it. ]
Why speak to me?
[ If Sophie does not like people. ]
no subject
Date: 2025-07-13 02:15 pm (UTC)(Her room is honestly a mess of packages, outfits, brushes, sponges, nail polishes and eyeshadow. She's vain, if the outfit doesn't say as much, or the perfectly manicured nails, the wing as sharp as if she calculated the exact angle. She's just... Like that. Not comfortable unelss she's perfect.)
No, don't worry. I speak to you because I want to. Most of us get our gifts when we're children or teens, I was literally made with mine built-in, so I'm used to it. If I don't feel like talking to you, you'll definitely know it.
no subject
Date: 2025-07-14 01:25 pm (UTC)[ Sophie's presentation is subtlety immaculate - the type of presentation that looks effortless but is far from such. The steadiness of the hand needed to apply her eyeliner along with the understanding of what would look best with her face showed an attention to detail which Clea finds admirable. If Sophie does something, she does it well. She approves.
Clea would not ask for advice from the incompetent. ]
Good.
[ She's always preferred people who can assert themselves. People with spines. ]
I appreciate the assistance. My hair and I both owe you a debt.
no subject
Date: 2025-07-14 02:19 pm (UTC)But here's a shrug as she gives the woman the baggy with all the goods. There's nothing in there she can't get easily in a little trip.)
Nah, you don't, you're doing me a favor. I need estrogen in my life.
no subject
Date: 2025-07-14 07:05 pm (UTC)Thank you.
[ She pauses. ]
Please don't tell me all of the clothes in those stores are things people try to wear.
[ Clea understands that different worlds and times will have different sartorial standards, but there are some items she saw that were... she would give them as gifts to her enemies. Knee high bright yellow wool athletic socks. Baggy shorts that went just past the knee. Never mind the absolutely hideous construction of some garments. Arm holes that were elongated ovals. Unfinished hems. ]
Maybe we should burn them and do everyone a favor.
no subject
Date: 2025-07-15 11:39 am (UTC)Probably. As far as Sophie Cuckoo is concerned, at least.)
I'd gladly burn all the ugly shit we find, but we do need to take care of your fashion too, girl. You're like, in the wrong century.
no subject
Date: 2025-07-15 12:40 pm (UTC)How bad is it?
[ Hopefully, she doesn't look like one of those mid century Americans in giant hoop skirts and dresses made of fabric that looked like the pattern was designed via die roll. Or those horrid bonnets, or the truly elderly ladies who still thought they were in the time of Louis XVI.
To stagnate is to become complacent. Complacency is the enemy of creativity. ]
Why limit ourselves to the sartorial rules of any time period? We can do better.
no subject
Date: 2025-07-15 02:23 pm (UTC)(So, yeah, could improve, unless that's the vibe Clea wants to give, and in that case, Sophie won't bitch. That said, Sophie has a very Barbie girl style of fashion, and she wouldn't really allow Clea to suffer through understanding what makes sense and what doesn't in fashion on her own.)
I'll talk to the girls, and see if we can do a makeover on you.
no subject
Date: 2025-07-15 02:37 pm (UTC)I assure you, I'd rather clean the banks of the Seine than discuss religion.
[ And she's not particularly fond of manual labor. ]
More opinions would be useful, if they're informed opinions.
[ If they share Sophie's eye, their input is welcome. ]
I would aspire to terrifying practicality.
[ Her clothes need to be suitable for sculpting and painting, but if she can intimidate people while walking down the street, all the better. To wear armor that renders her untouchable, beyond anyone's insipid opinions. ]
no subject
Date: 2025-07-16 01:32 pm (UTC)(She asks, solely because who knows. It's not like she's taking the deepest dive in Clea lore through her brain, that is reserved for versions of people she knows, just in case. The differences between her world and their world just got to be seen, just in case she has to explain something, and she's not that great at the explaining.)
I wouldn't call them my girls if they weren't great. Practicality, however, not my thing. My saving-the-world-doing-missions-etc uniform comes with platform boots.
(no subject)
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