[ He fends those hands off at first, mouth pulled up into a snarl, before Shadow Milks words hit home. Make them freeze in surprise. ]
What?
[ Those words... aren't Deceit. He stares up at Shadow Milk in surprise, barely registering the hands at his neck now. The sounds. The anger.
Ovens had he... Something twists inside of him, painfully. Doubt sinks, bares fangs and bites. Had he become a Cookie of Deceit? Had he offered Shadow Milk eternity by his side? ]
Shadow Milk...
[ He's choked for words and not simply because there's hands closing around his throat. He wouldn't... would he? Even as a Cookie of Deceit? He wouldn't offer someone something so grand and then break it?
No. He can see it. So fallen, so full of lies. He absolutely would to get what he needed and wanted. To defeat the Master of Lies, he would have to spin one so thoroughly himself that not even Shadow Milk Cookie would be able to see past it to the Truth within. That he himself in part would believe.
Why does that hurt so much?
He moves his hands, choking be damned, and reaches up to cup the Beasts face. Rasps out around the pain and lack of air as he's not fighting it anymore. ]
[Perhaps it hurts so much, because in order to do so, he simply had to offer him something that made him so happy he couldn't bear to see past it. Blinded entirely by obtaining what he wanted most. It had never been the soul jam, as it turns out.]
[In his fury, there is a dark glee at finally getting his hands around his throat. At squeezing him until he couldn't breathe, until he crumbled under his fingers, and he never had to look at him ever again. So he could wipe this entire disgusting affair away, warp it until it turned into something else, some pretty lie. Yes, Pure Vanilla had never meant it, had never-]
[He's the one that chokes, the moment fingers cup his face. A feeling he can't identity laces down his spine. The sensation of contact, which had already been foreign to him for millennia, twice so with this form. It stuns him for a horrible few seconds and finally his grip on Truthless' neck lessens.]
[Like Truthless, he too can see the words for what they are, for the barest moment he is unclouded by emotion, he floats through the eye of the storm.]
[Poor, sad thing, it no longer knows what it desire, indeed.]
[The Maestrom begins anew as he screams once more, wounded, horrified and confused, and the soft pitter-pat of tears lands on Truthless' face.]
[ As the fingers around his throat lessens he's finally able to gasp, air rushing in sweet as any candy and his vision - which had slowly began to tunnel and darkened - coming back in a fell swoop. It makes him dizzy with it, and lets his head rest in the dirt beneath it so he can simply breathe.
The scream makes him close his eyes, expecting the choking to begin anew and finding he can't care. Only he's greeted by tears on his face instead and he opens his eyes, surprised. His soul aches, his jam resonates as Pure Vanilla stirs. ]
I'm sorry...
[ It's rasped out again, bruised from the fingers that dug in, and Shadow Milk will know it's not a lie. How could it be? He's not a Cookie of Deceit yet.
Truthless hasn't hugged anyone since coming back to Life and having the Forest take it's toll. There's been a disconnect. Yet with the tears dripping down onto his face now his hands shift, away from Shadow Milks face, to settle around his neck. Pull him into his shoulder. ]
[That voice is so faint, but it's insistent. It's asking, its pleading, and yet all Shadow Milk can do is be guided to Truthless' shoulder. For a moment there are arms around him and it's a contact he has not known- ...when?]
[He feels as though there has been a bomb planted under his skin, and he can't tell if he's furious or distraught. There is a frightening warmth that he does not dare reach for and suddenly, as if it were a snake that's sunk it's fangs into his skin, he recoils away, bitten. He hisses some unholy sound and stumbles gracelessly, frantically away from Truthless.]
NO!
[The anger filters back in, but it's a broken and wild thing.]
I hate you, I hate you, I hate you! Die and shatter that disgusting Soul Jam while you're at it!
[ Actually, he's really surprised Shadow Milk took that hug for as long as he did, but him recoiling away is expected and it puts distance between them. Allows Truthless to finally push himself into a sitting position, his hand going to his neck to rub there. He closes his eyes for a moment, Shadow Milk's railing at him going in one ear and out the other as he takes a moment to center himself.
To push himself to his feet and go over to fetch his staff, pulling himself upright to his full (not very imposing lbr he's only 5'6") height, planting his staff firmly. ]
Stop it, I am not your enemy.
[ There's no fire in his voice, though, none of the anger that should be there. He turns as if to begin to walk away, but doesn't move. ]
Your new body is not suited to this environment. [ It's fucking Cold, Shadow Milk. ] Get up. Or simply sit and freeze, before you can find out what is happening. The choice is yours.
[The idea of Truthless standing and being taller than him pisses him off, so he drags himself to his feet, despite the way his body tries to protest. He's in a lot of pain, which is fucking stupid, he knew he was injured before, but the way this body feels is so much different he is starting to hate it.]
[He is also so very vividly aware of literally everything that just happened. That shameful display of emotion just now. What the hell's gotten into him.]
[He has to figure out how to kill him, if just for that. He won't hesitate next time. He'll crush him and crush his Jam and-]
[He shivers involuntarily, aware also, suddenly, that he is wearing shitty little jester tights in the snow. His hair writhes in petulant fury.]
Where are we, Vanilly. [He practically spits the name out, it's dripping with venom. It makes him mad, too, that he doesn't know, and that his own Jam is flickering and falling dim.] I abhor this script, and I think it's time to sack the writer.
[ That spite and vitriol shouldn't hurt as much as it does. They are not friends, after all. Shadow Milk is the narrator of his fall, his tormenter. They're not buddys, chums, or pals, despite Shadow Milks goading. They should hate each other and Truthless does.
So why does he feel more alone than he ever has, like he's lost someone who understood him in the silence of the usual playfulness?
Only you understood me.
Ah, it aches. He wants to tell him to stop it. Just stop. He clenches his hand a little tighter, thumb rubbing against Cacaos wedding ring there, Volition shimmering faintly. ]
We're in a new world, not anywhere in Earthbread. We are heading to a place called Aldrics Grove. A... creature of Witch like strength has pulled us here to torture us for it's own amusement. There are other Cookies here as well, also humanized.
[ Huh... it's been a year since Pure Vanilla first came here.]
[...Does it make him feel better? To see him act that way? Was it his words that caused him to knuckle his staff that way? He's sure he should find sick delight in it. He wants to hurt him, he wants to break him. He wants to hold his soul in his hands and squeeze it until it bursts and oozes through his fingers.]
[...]
[This silence is maddening.]
I see. A new prison with a new warden, is it? How droll.
[He huffs, tapping his feet on the ground for a moment. Only this time it seems this warden has been thorough in stripping him of his fangs. Infuriating. Did they truly take it all or...? Oh, no, here we go.]
[He refuses to appear relieved, but his mood shifts as he takes to the air, just a few inches off the ground. There, now he is properly a little taller than Truthless. He floats after him like a tool.]
[He lets out the biggest, most overblown sigh one could fucking muster, and floats ahead of Truthless, lounging mid-air as if he were on some luxurious chase. That drama is back. It's like he finally got himself back together.]
So, what. Some amateur Witch-wannabe has decided to take the narrative for a spin? With such abysmal talent and no taste to show for it! Ha! It'll rue the day it tried to upstage me.
[He'll find this worm and crush it with his own two hands. How dare something inferior usurp his script.]
[ Shadow Milk suddenly being in front of him makes him startle, just a faint widening of the eyes, and he shifts his head to the side a bit to make sure he's got it under control. To make sure there's no pain on it. Only then does he look back, blankly. ]
You and it might have much in common. It, too, loves torturing it's guests, and it loves the sight of it's own impressions.
[ Hidden under the robes, four jet black scars almost painted onto Truthless' neck, with the fifth in the unmistakable position of a hand from behind, clawing in. An attempt to make Pure Vanilla bow, and only getting it once his daughter was threatened in turn.
Truthless turns his gaze back to where they're walking to navigate. ]
[Hehehe, did he catch something he wasn't supposed to? Was that a moment of weakness? Suddenly he feels a little lighter. While the grin on his face is hardly one of mirth. It could be more likened to something dangerous and predatory, it spreads with his words.]
Vanilly, I'm offended, did I reaaaally leave such a poor impression on you as a host? This so called entity hasn't even come out to greet us, yet! RUDE!
[He weirdly doesn't like being compared to this guy, why is that. Probably because he's currently the mouse trapped in the maw of a cat and he really hates it.]
[He floats along, arms folded behind his back. He cannot see those marks but if Truthless is thinking about them, then Shadow Milk will immediately catch on. It seems at least his perception hasn't been so clouded as to be locked out of his mind. comforting. Well, comforting until that sinks in anyway.]
[ No you shitty floating rain cloud, because there was nothing there to catch. There is no vague sense of relief as Shadow Milk goes back to his usual grating self. Because Truthless can deal with that. Not the pain or anger.
And that's the only reason for the feeling.
He hums in annoyance. ]
You were hardly a host.
[ This Truthless doesn't know about the room done up for him. ]
As for it, I suspect it is currently wallowing in anger over the damage we dealt it.
[ Damage. Barely scratches, really. But they were something. The comment makes his steps stop for a brief moment and he tries to guard his mind. Then he keeps walking, looking further annoyed. Not flustered. ]
Yes, we already established your eyes still work. Congratulations.
[He gives a loud dramatic GASP at being called a shit host, throws an arm over his face and dramatically "faints" in mid-air like a weak Victorian suffering from the vapors.]
WOUNDED! I have been slain and slandered by my ingrate of a guest. How shall I eeeeeever go on!
[He floats along holding this dramatic pose, and then peaks his eye to see if Truthless is reacting at all. After a moment he goes back to normal like that all didn't just happen. He grumble faintly.]
Sounds like you didn't do enough, Vanilly, what kind of ancient hero were you supposed to be, huh? What would you ever do without me, really.
[And then his expression gets kind of ....dangerous. vacant? The "I see how you look at your friends" look, which this current Truthless is less familiar with.]
[ It gets about as much reaction as Shadow Milk expects: Truthless rolls his eyes and keeps walking. With a hard tsk. ]
There was merely no point in me leaving.
[ Because he can't say he was a prisoner. He wasn't. He stayed on his own. Why leave?
There is the faintest of maybe a ghost of a hint of a smile. Then his eyes narrow a little. ]
Do not. Several gave up their lives for that.
[ And the question makes him remember before he can stop himself. It's not his memory, it's Pure Vanillas. A hot summer on the beach, half a year ago, and dream tainted. A touch both intimate and cruel, fire in his throat, blood and pain as a girl he adopted as a daughter choked until he cried the demons name.
Truthless sounds bitter, his voice laced with anger. ]
Far less than it wished, but far more than I wanted...
[ That rage causes him to stop walking, staring at Shadow Milk with a touch of confusion. It's less understandable to him than the pained one before.
Was he mad that Pure Vanilla was injured? Did the Beast actually care? But why? Or was he mad that the Soul Jam might have been in danger, seen it as a ploy for the demon to claim it?
He shakes his head, but not in denial to Shadow Milks demand. ]
We don't know where it moved to since our last attack on it.
[ Soft hesitance, Truthless shifting his weight.
Ugh, he cares. Pure Vanillas woken up more than he thought. He forces himself to start moving again, the Grove proper should be right beyond these trees. ]
[So, then he will just have to learn where it's gone. To lick it's wounds with its tail between it's legs, clearly. Good, he hopes it cowers knowing what its taken from him, and that he intends to get it back.]
I have waited millennia to wrench my way out of my prison in the Silver Tree. I can wait for the next act to play out, and for it to show itself. Ooooh, for that curtain to rise!
[He reaches forward to grab Truthless by the the chin, to hold him so they can look eye-to-eye.]
[ That makes Truthless sigh at first, closing his eyes to rub his face with the bandaged left hand. Which goes up to his arm, but that's hidden under robes. He's filed down the Oripathy rocks to keep them wrapped so he doesn't jam anyone with them, but still, keeps them wrapped.
He's broken out of his annoyance by the Jesters grandstanding when his chin is grabbed and he's forced still, his eyes opening in surprise.
Then he scowls and slaps the other's hand off his chin, pushing Shadow Milk aside like an obnoxious blueberry curtain. ]
I don't belong to you!
[ He's quicker now to move the distance and there! They're in the Grove proper and he's heading towards the Inn. He's cold and he wants his room. ]
Though he is leading him to the Inn for a reason, he knows Shadow Milk won't really notice how cold he is until he's in front of the fire. The hands on his shoulder and the whispering in his ear makes his heart lurch upwards, and he TSKS hard, reaching over his shoulder to put his hand on the other's face.
Is that push half-hearted? Maybe a little. ]
Go back to hating me. You were far more enjoyable ranting and screaming.
[ He stops at the Inn door and yanks it open and wonders if he can get through it fast enough to slam it in Shadow Milks face. For a half second, but he holds it open for him too. ]
i cant decide if this should be a gag tag or not im sorry
[Hey, and also, don't think he didn't see the bandages, either. You can't fucking hide from him (He can, he has, he beat him by doing that but how about also SHUT UP.)]
[Licks his hand.]
[No court would convict you for slamming the door or killing him outright, you know.]
[ Silence stretches as Truthless' brain slowly comes to terms with what Shadow Milk did. Slowly he moves his hand to wipe it off on the Jester's face, then just as slowly turn to look at him, stepping one step back to put distance and to get the doorway between them. ]
Freeze in the cold.
[ He WILL slam the door in his face because the other urge is to throttle him and shake him back and forth and scream at him. He curls his nose and wipes his hand off on his robe in a scrub and goes into the main room to sit at the fire and warm. ]
[All Truthless gets for his anger is a roar of laughter like he told the funniest fucking joke.]
[After a moment though, something feels gross and slimy under his skin. The silence of the air out here is deafening and he finds that he really doesn't care for it. He is going to go look around this stupid place for a bit, first but.]
[He'll be under your bed later, probably, don't worry. He isn't going to be gone for loooong.]
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sticksandbonesmods) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sticksandbones2025-01-03 12:00 pm
no subject
What?
[ Those words... aren't Deceit. He stares up at Shadow Milk in surprise, barely registering the hands at his neck now. The sounds. The anger.
Ovens had he... Something twists inside of him, painfully. Doubt sinks, bares fangs and bites. Had he become a Cookie of Deceit? Had he offered Shadow Milk eternity by his side? ]
Shadow Milk...
[ He's choked for words and not simply because there's hands closing around his throat. He wouldn't... would he? Even as a Cookie of Deceit? He wouldn't offer someone something so grand and then break it?
No. He can see it. So fallen, so full of lies. He absolutely would to get what he needed and wanted. To defeat the Master of Lies, he would have to spin one so thoroughly himself that not even Shadow Milk Cookie would be able to see past it to the Truth within. That he himself in part would believe.
Why does that hurt so much?
He moves his hands, choking be damned, and reaches up to cup the Beasts face. Rasps out around the pain and lack of air as he's not fighting it anymore. ]
I'm- s-sorry...
no subject
[In his fury, there is a dark glee at finally getting his hands around his throat. At squeezing him until he couldn't breathe, until he crumbled under his fingers, and he never had to look at him ever again. So he could wipe this entire disgusting affair away, warp it until it turned into something else, some pretty lie. Yes, Pure Vanilla had never meant it, had never-]
[He's the one that chokes, the moment fingers cup his face. A feeling he can't identity laces down his spine. The sensation of contact, which had already been foreign to him for millennia, twice so with this form. It stuns him for a horrible few seconds and finally his grip on Truthless' neck lessens.]
[Like Truthless, he too can see the words for what they are, for the barest moment he is unclouded by emotion, he floats through the eye of the storm.]
[Poor, sad thing, it no longer knows what it desire, indeed.]
[The Maestrom begins anew as he screams once more, wounded, horrified and confused, and the soft pitter-pat of tears lands on Truthless' face.]
no subject
The scream makes him close his eyes, expecting the choking to begin anew and finding he can't care. Only he's greeted by tears on his face instead and he opens his eyes, surprised. His soul aches, his jam resonates as Pure Vanilla stirs. ]
I'm sorry...
[ It's rasped out again, bruised from the fingers that dug in, and Shadow Milk will know it's not a lie. How could it be? He's not a Cookie of Deceit yet.
Truthless hasn't hugged anyone since coming back to Life and having the Forest take it's toll. There's been a disconnect. Yet with the tears dripping down onto his face now his hands shift, away from Shadow Milks face, to settle around his neck. Pull him into his shoulder. ]
no subject
[That voice is so faint, but it's insistent. It's asking, its pleading, and yet all Shadow Milk can do is be guided to Truthless' shoulder. For a moment there are arms around him and it's a contact he has not known- ...when?]
[He feels as though there has been a bomb planted under his skin, and he can't tell if he's furious or distraught. There is a frightening warmth that he does not dare reach for and suddenly, as if it were a snake that's sunk it's fangs into his skin, he recoils away, bitten. He hisses some unholy sound and stumbles gracelessly, frantically away from Truthless.]
NO!
[The anger filters back in, but it's a broken and wild thing.]
I hate you, I hate you, I hate you! Die and shatter that disgusting Soul Jam while you're at it!
no subject
To push himself to his feet and go over to fetch his staff, pulling himself upright to his full (not very imposing lbr he's only 5'6") height, planting his staff firmly. ]
Stop it, I am not your enemy.
[ There's no fire in his voice, though, none of the anger that should be there. He turns as if to begin to walk away, but doesn't move. ]
Your new body is not suited to this environment. [ It's fucking Cold, Shadow Milk. ] Get up. Or simply sit and freeze, before you can find out what is happening. The choice is yours.
no subject
[He is also so very vividly aware of literally everything that just happened. That shameful display of emotion just now. What the hell's gotten into him.]
[He has to figure out how to kill him, if just for that. He won't hesitate next time. He'll crush him and crush his Jam and-]
[He shivers involuntarily, aware also, suddenly, that he is wearing shitty little jester tights in the snow. His hair writhes in petulant fury.]
Where are we, Vanilly. [He practically spits the name out, it's dripping with venom. It makes him mad, too, that he doesn't know, and that his own Jam is flickering and falling dim.] I abhor this script, and I think it's time to sack the writer.
no subject
So why does he feel more alone than he ever has, like he's lost someone who understood him in the silence of the usual playfulness?
Only you understood me.
Ah, it aches. He wants to tell him to stop it. Just stop. He clenches his hand a little tighter, thumb rubbing against Cacaos wedding ring there, Volition shimmering faintly. ]
We're in a new world, not anywhere in Earthbread. We are heading to a place called Aldrics Grove. A... creature of Witch like strength has pulled us here to torture us for it's own amusement. There are other Cookies here as well, also humanized.
[ Huh... it's been a year since Pure Vanilla first came here.]
1/2
[...]
[This silence is maddening.]
I see. A new prison with a new warden, is it? How droll.
[He huffs, tapping his feet on the ground for a moment. Only this time it seems this warden has been thorough in stripping him of his fangs. Infuriating. Did they truly take it all or...? Oh, no, here we go.]
[He refuses to appear relieved, but his mood shifts as he takes to the air, just a few inches off the ground. There, now he is properly a little taller than Truthless. He floats after him like a tool.]
no subject
So, what. Some amateur Witch-wannabe has decided to take the narrative for a spin? With such abysmal talent and no taste to show for it! Ha! It'll rue the day it tried to upstage me.
[He'll find this worm and crush it with his own two hands. How dare something inferior usurp his script.]
no subject
[ Shadow Milk suddenly being in front of him makes him startle, just a faint widening of the eyes, and he shifts his head to the side a bit to make sure he's got it under control. To make sure there's no pain on it. Only then does he look back, blankly. ]
You and it might have much in common. It, too, loves torturing it's guests, and it loves the sight of it's own impressions.
[ Hidden under the robes, four jet black scars almost painted onto Truthless' neck, with the fifth in the unmistakable position of a hand from behind, clawing in. An attempt to make Pure Vanilla bow, and only getting it once his daughter was threatened in turn.
Truthless turns his gaze back to where they're walking to navigate. ]
You are the same face.
no subject
Vanilly, I'm offended, did I reaaaally leave such a poor impression on you as a host? This so called entity hasn't even come out to greet us, yet! RUDE!
[He weirdly doesn't like being compared to this guy, why is that. Probably because he's currently the mouse trapped in the maw of a cat and he really hates it.]
[He floats along, arms folded behind his back. He cannot see those marks but if Truthless is thinking about them, then Shadow Milk will immediately catch on. It seems at least his perception hasn't been so clouded as to be locked out of his mind. comforting. Well, comforting until that sinks in anyway.]
I can still see you, you know.
no subject
And that's the only reason for the feeling.
He hums in annoyance. ]
You were hardly a host.
[ This Truthless doesn't know about the room done up for him. ]
As for it, I suspect it is currently wallowing in anger over the damage we dealt it.
[ Damage. Barely scratches, really. But they were something. The comment makes his steps stop for a brief moment and he tries to guard his mind. Then he keeps walking, looking further annoyed. Not flustered. ]
Yes, we already established your eyes still work. Congratulations.
no subject
WOUNDED! I have been slain and slandered by my ingrate of a guest. How shall I eeeeeever go on!
[He floats along holding this dramatic pose, and then peaks his eye to see if Truthless is reacting at all. After a moment he goes back to normal like that all didn't just happen. He grumble faintly.]
Sounds like you didn't do enough, Vanilly, what kind of ancient hero were you supposed to be, huh? What would you ever do without me, really.
[And then his expression gets kind of ....dangerous. vacant? The "I see how you look at your friends" look, which this current Truthless is less familiar with.]
It did something to you, didn't it?
no subject
There was merely no point in me leaving.
[ Because he can't say he was a prisoner. He wasn't. He stayed on his own. Why leave?
There is the faintest of maybe a ghost of a hint of a smile. Then his eyes narrow a little. ]
Do not. Several gave up their lives for that.
[ And the question makes him remember before he can stop himself. It's not his memory, it's Pure Vanillas. A hot summer on the beach, half a year ago, and dream tainted. A touch both intimate and cruel, fire in his throat, blood and pain as a girl he adopted as a daughter choked until he cried the demons name.
Truthless sounds bitter, his voice laced with anger. ]
Far less than it wished, but far more than I wanted...
1/2
no subject
Say, Vanilly.
[The grandstanding is gone, his voice drops into that weirdly soft tone that only happens when the fascade is broken.]
Where does it live.
no subject
Was he mad that Pure Vanilla was injured? Did the Beast actually care? But why? Or was he mad that the Soul Jam might have been in danger, seen it as a ploy for the demon to claim it?
He shakes his head, but not in denial to Shadow Milks demand. ]
We don't know where it moved to since our last attack on it.
[ Soft hesitance, Truthless shifting his weight.
Ugh, he cares. Pure Vanillas woken up more than he thought. He forces himself to start moving again, the Grove proper should be right beyond these trees. ]
Do not provoke it. Not alone
no subject
I have waited millennia to wrench my way out of my prison in the Silver Tree. I can wait for the next act to play out, and for it to show itself. Ooooh, for that curtain to rise!
[He reaches forward to grab Truthless by the the chin, to hold him so they can look eye-to-eye.]
No one breaks what belongs to me.
no subject
He's broken out of his annoyance by the Jesters grandstanding when his chin is grabbed and he's forced still, his eyes opening in surprise.
Then he scowls and slaps the other's hand off his chin, pushing Shadow Milk aside like an obnoxious blueberry curtain. ]
I don't belong to you!
[ He's quicker now to move the distance and there! They're in the Grove proper and he's heading towards the Inn. He's cold and he wants his room. ]
no subject
Oooooh, but you do. That traitorous, disgusting little soul of yours, you can feel it can't you?
[He floats around behind, putting his hands on his shoulders and whispering his ear.]
You're miiiiiine to break, forever and aaaaalways.
no subject
Though he is leading him to the Inn for a reason, he knows Shadow Milk won't really notice how cold he is until he's in front of the fire. The hands on his shoulder and the whispering in his ear makes his heart lurch upwards, and he TSKS hard, reaching over his shoulder to put his hand on the other's face.
Is that push half-hearted? Maybe a little. ]
Go back to hating me. You were far more enjoyable ranting and screaming.
[ He stops at the Inn door and yanks it open and wonders if he can get through it fast enough to slam it in Shadow Milks face. For a half second, but he holds it open for him too. ]
i cant decide if this should be a gag tag or not im sorry
[Licks his hand.]
[No court would convict you for slamming the door or killing him outright, you know.]
it's canon now cause im replying to it
Freeze in the cold.
[ He WILL slam the door in his face because the other urge is to throttle him and shake him back and forth and scream at him. He curls his nose and wipes his hand off on his robe in a scrub and goes into the main room to sit at the fire and warm. ]
no subject
[After a moment though, something feels gross and slimy under his skin. The silence of the air out here is deafening and he finds that he really doesn't care for it. He is going to go look around this stupid place for a bit, first but.]
[He'll be under your bed later, probably, don't worry. He isn't going to be gone for loooong.]