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Piano on the Seashore, slow-start-to-the-day writing exercise

I was brainfarting so I asked for prompts. Here’s SkySailor’s.

Bracken has shown up a few times.

“I’ve always wanted to do this.”

“What are we doing?”

Nick followed behind Bracken, because, after all, that was what he did. But he had this puzzled look on his face that was echoed in the set of his shoulders and the tone of his voice.

“We’re doing that thing, you know, in all the music videos…” She tilted her head at him. “You remember music videos, right?”

“I’m older than you.”

“I know. By like decimal points. That doesn’t mean you remember things that happened in the middle.”

“Yes, I remember music videos. Bracken…”

“Almost there.” She gave the dolly one last shove and then muttered a Working, pushing the repaired piano onto the beach.

“Is this why you’ve been sneaking off to Addergoole for the last few months?”

“It’s hardly sneaking when I have to ask you to teleport me.” She owned one dress. She could repair anything – she could repair everything – but she’d had to go out of her way to find herself a proper dress.

She sat down at her piano, the waves just lapping at her bare feet, in her cocktail dress that revealed more of her than anyone but her lovers saw. She sat down, put her fingers on the keys, and she played.

Some time later, Nick no longer looking remotely confused, they recreated the other part of those iconic music videos. The surf felt like another caress as it washed over their skin.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/599474.html. You can comment here or there.

Positions A through “Speak,” a drabble of Addergoole post-apoc

After Present.

Um, this was supposed to be kink but turned out to be a little disturbing.

Post-apoc Addergoole, Mike VanderLinden

“Kneel.”

The boy fell to his knees, looking at the floor. His face wasn’t so much slack as it was carefully without expression. The only way Mike could find anything in him was to read his emotions.

“Good boy. Pose A.”

With just as little expression, he shifted his body, arms folded behind his back, forehead down to the ground. It rose his ass up in the air beautifully. Mike had used that, on occasion, over the last couple weeks.

“That’s a good boy. Fours, Pose B.”

As if he was doing a dance, the boy – Laudanum, he had a name, and it would do Mike good to remember it – shifted his ass um, his hands to the ground, until he was straight-backed and perfectly posed in that position.

“Stand on your head.” Mike was feeling a little bit silly.

Laudanum was not. He kicked his feet up, over, caught himself on the wall and managed a nearly-perfect handstand.

“You’re a very good boy. Come down, and at ease.” It was easy to say at ease. There was something about Laudanum that made it a lot harder to be at ease. “Come down.” Mike patted her lap, and, obediently, as always, the boy pillowed his head there. “You’re a lovely boy.”

The boy said nothing.

“Speak freely.”

“Mistress?” He tilted his head to look at her. “Thank you, Mistress, but… freely? About what? I don’t know what you’d want me to speak on. I don’t know what would make you happy.”

“It was not an order, Laudanum.” She stroked his hair. “It was an offer. To speak about whatever pleased you.”

The boy pursed his lips. A moment later, and clearly, even without her power, obviously uncomfortable, he tried something else. His voice, she noted, cracked. It usually did, actually.

“I prefer to remain quiet, Mistress. It… it pleases me to be quiet.”

And there, there was what made it hard to be at ease.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/598068.html. You can comment here or there.

A Christmas Switch, a story for SkySailor

This is in response to Sky’s commission from my “Ack, Need Gas Money” commission drive. It is not currently canon, as it doesn’t fit, but if I succeed in re-writing Addergoole, that might change.

It takes place in Year 5 of the Addergoole School, on Christmas.

“This year, for the day of Christmas, we are going to do something different.”

The cafeteria fell silent, the whole room seeming to hold its breath. Different? Director Regine did not do that. Different? On Christmas Eve?

“I do believe it will be most educational for you, and I do hope it will serve as a present to those who most need it.”

Kailani frowned. The wording’s patterns were wrong. Next to her, Conrad was frowning as well.

“I believe I will let you discover the surprise for yourself, but if you do not, it will revealed at breakfast tomorrow morning. This will be a special Christmas breakfast, and attendance is not optional.”

“She’s reading a script.” Conrad’s breath was warm in Kai’s ear. She nodded; that made sense with the odd phrasing, although it didn’t make sense for Regine.

“One more note on this experiment. Please be aware that any attempt to gain ‘payback’ or retribution for what happens on Christmas will be absolutely forbidden.”

With that less than promising note, she left the stage.

“Payback? Retribution?” Kailani poked at her dinner. “That doesn’t sound pleasing.”

“It doesn’t sound like her, either.” Conrad’s tail was lashing against his chair. “I wonder what – or who – got into her.”

“I suppose we’re just going to have to wait and find out. As long as it doesn’t interfere with the presents.”

“I agree.” And that in itself was a Christmas Miracle; Mabina was agreeing with her. “Let’s us finish dinner, and then we can go and be sure it’s all ready for tomorrow.”

~
Jamian woke up Christmas morning feeling … weird. Weird was the best word he could put on it. His head felt stuffed with cotton, and there was a vague empty spot in the back of his brain.

Both feelings lasted until they reached breakfast – a wide and delicious spread of food seeming to be apologizing for getting them out of bed on a holiday. Then the Director walked up to the dais again.

“I told you that I would be giving you an interesting potential gift today. Many of you may have already begun to notice the effects of this gift, but in order to ensure that you get full use out of it, I felt I ought to explain.

“For twenty-four hours, beginning at 8 a.m. today, those who are Keeper and Kept will find their roles reversed. In the uncomfortable situation where one Keeper had more than one Kept, we have arranged things so that the Kept are, today, as a mutual Belonging so that they may in turn mutually Keep their Keeper.”

She clearly had more to say, but the room was getting loud with angry shouting. Jamian was unsurprised to find that Ty was among those yelling.

“Shhh. I want to hear this.” He didn’t do it so much to see what would happen, but because he didn’t feel any pressure not to shush his Keeper. The look on Ty’s face as his mouth snapped shut, however, was priceless.

“I will remind you of two things. First, that torture and murder are still against the school rules.” This time, everyone could see her glancing at Luke and Professor VanderLinden as she spoke. “Secondly, that today is to be considered reprisal-free. Indeed, if we have to, we will install geasa against any reprisal at all.”

“You have got to be kidding me!”

“Ardell,” Professor VanderLinden stood up, “If you have that much fear of what your Kept will do to you, perhaps you ought to reconsider how you are Keeping them.” And Jamian, at least, saw the way that the professor looked at Luke on that one.

“Twenty-four hours. I suggest you attempt to learn something from this present.” The Director left the stage.

“Hrrm.” Jamian glanced at his crew, who were all sharing uncomfortable looks with their former-Kept-currently-Keepers.

~

“No.”

Finnegan watched his Keeper – his Kept – Allyse. He watched her sisters. He watched the front of the room, where the Director had dropped this bomb on them and left.

“You understand, runt…”

“I understand, Acacia.” He dared looking straight at her. “I’m not stupid.”

She raised one perfectly-painted eyebrow in something that was probably disbelief. “Prove it.”

It was interesting to not feel the pressure of Allyse’s orders requiring him to figure out how to obey that. Instead, Finnegan just smiled. “Give me twenty-four hours.”

“It’s already nine, runt.”

“I know. I’m going to need that extra hour once it flips.”

“To grovel?”

“Here’s hoping not.” Neither of them were blind to the fact that Allyse was staring off into space, her entire body strung tight like a bow. Neither of them missed that Sima’s hand was on her weapon.

Finnegan had to ignore it, because this was the only opportunity he was going to get. He stood up, looked around the cafeteria, and offered Allyse his hand.

She didn’t say anything. She didn’t move. “Allyse.”

Her head snapped around, and he thought for a moment she might bite him. “What… oh.” Her expression shifted to something that looked sick and amused, a little curl of her lips. “That’s what that feels like.”

“Let’s go back to our room.” He moved his hand a little closer to her, and this time she took it.

“Runt.” Acacia’s voice was loaded with warning. He met her eyes again, feeling both daring and terrified.

“I understand, Acacia. I understand that tomorrow everything goes back to normal. I understand that no geasa in the world will stop you from gaining revenge if you think I’ve wronged your sister. Now… do you understand?”

She frowned at him. Next to him, Allyse had pulled on his hand and then, finally, stood. “Understand what?”

Finnegan found himself smiling. “That none of that matters… because none of that is why I am taking Allyse back to my room.”

~

“This isn’t…”

“Shut up.” Callista’s voice felt ragged and unclear. Part of her brain was scrabbling for the comfort of the collar, the comfort of the Keeping.

It would be back tomorrow. She clawed at the physical collar. “Take this thing off me. Then go back to our room and stay there. You can talk as long as I’m not in earshot. No magic, obviously.”

He nodded and did as she said. He didn’t really have any choice, did he?

She wondered what it felt like.

~

Ardell wasn’t speaking.

Delaney was trying to, but he’d shaken his head at her, and she’d taken the order, even if she was the only actually free one in the room tonight.

Well, her and Aviv, but nobody counted squid boy.

The sounds coming from Uberto’s room were a little bit scary, if he was going to admit it to himself. Shera hadn’t bothered to close the door. Of course, Uber often forgot the close the door, too, but this time Ardell couldn’t get up and do it himself.

And Aneislis showed no signs of caring. As a matter of fact, the boy was smiling.

The expression did nothing for Ardell’s concerns or his comfort. He wanted to say you know, we all go through this. But nothing that had come out of his mouth had done anything but get him snapped at, so he was reverting back to first-year practices. Unless your master tells you to speak, don’t say anything at all.

“Aneislis.” Aviv’s voice cut the uncomfortable non-silence of the living room.

Ardell’s Keeper’s eyes went to the pack bitch. He didn’t say anything. He was doing a lot of it.

“If you need me, I’ll be in my room.”

Annie nodded. Ardell’s blood went cold. Aviv was their healer. He didn’t really think Annie would…

Shit.

~

His room. It was a weird feeling, but nothing compared to Allyse laying next to him, trembling.

“You’ve never worn a collar.” He kept his voice low, like talking to a child or a wild animal. “Never been Kept.”

Unspoken: How are you scared? How are you, Allyse, afraid of anything short of a dragon?

“We saw what happened to Del. That’s when we formed the Thornes. That’s when we agreed we’d never be Kept. Never be collared.” Her voice was distant. Allyse’s voice was often distant, but this was different somehow. Further away.

Finnegan did the only thing he could think to do. He touched her arm, carefully, and when she didn’t jump, he touched her other arm as well. “I’m going to hug you. And then we are going to lay here and cuddle. Later, if you want, we can decide if we want to have sex.”

She swallowed. It hurt him to watch her throat work like that, like she was struggling with merely breathing. “Yes, yessir.”

He wouldn’t tell her not to call him sir. He understood the idea of turn-about. But he would try to make sure it didn’t stick too roughly in her throat.

He’d never hugged an injured friend as carefully as he hugged Allyse. “And when it’s all over, things will go back to the way they were. And that’s okay, too.”

“You don’t have to lie, you know. I know it’s not what you wanted.”

“Not what I wanted and not what I want are two different things.”

~~

Ty was a miserable Kept.

Jamian had really expected no less, but it was still frustrating. “Ty. Tya. What are you sulking about now?”

“I’m not sulking. It’s just, I want to go out.”

“And I told you no. I’ve only got twenty-four hours. I want to enjoy it while I have it.”

“But I want to go out.

Across the living room, Nikki and Shiva looked up. There was a moment of unspoken communication between them, and then Shiva snorted.

“Ty, you’re a lousy Kept. Suck it up. It’s not like none of us ever wanted to go out and couldn’t. Ever wanted to do something at all and couldn’t. Even Jamian.”

“I was never this mean.”

They coughed. All of them. “Yes you were.” It was Nikki who said it, but they all meant it. “You definitely were a lot more mean than Jame’s being.”

“Totally,” Shiva agreed. Magnolia was watching the whole thing wordlessly, possibly glad that she didn’t have a Kept this year. They hadn’t seen Phelen and Manira all day.

“If you want my advice, and I’m sure you don’t,” Nikki kept on, “Take all your clothes off, go into the bedroom, and do your best to show Jamian exactly what kind of good Kept you can be.”

“Is that what you want me to do?” Shiva’s purr was probably supposed to be private, but Jamian could hear it clearly. He tried not to blush.

“I and to feel your claws.” Nikki’s response couldn’t even pretend it was meant to be for her ears only.

“Take my clothes off first…?”

“Tya-mia, everyone here has seen you naked. Show us what a good Keptie you can be.” Shiva sounded so very different. Drugged, almost. It was a little unnerving.

Not just for Jamian, it seemed. Ty sighed, and then, much to Jamian’s surprise, stripped off his clothing, right down to skin. “If my master likes…” His voice had gone thick and husky, although his eyes were still so very bratty, amused at all of it, “I will be in his bedroom, waiting.”

“Your master would like that quite a bit. Good boy.”

~

They hadn’t seen Vlad and ‘Lisha all day, but occasionally they could hear them from the bedroom. Vlad, it seemed, was taking the opportunity for some payback.

Conrad, on the other hand… Kai wasn’t sure what he was doing.

That wasn’t accurate. What he was doing was petting her. He had her sitting on the floor between his legs, her head pillowed on his thigh, while they watched Christmas movies with the rest of the Crew. He was stroking her hair and her shoulders, and every so often the rest of her torso, and murmuring the occasional praise in a low whisper only she could hear.

“Is this…” It was hard to form coherent thoughts. Everything was awash with pleasure, thick with warm, happy feelings. “Is this what you want?”

“Right now, beautiful Kaia, I’m doing exactly what I want.” His hand circled her neck for a moment, before going back to petting her. It felt delicious.

“But…” She gave up for a few minutes, until his hand stilled and she could try for words again. “But is it what you want from me?”

Taro said something on the other side of the room, but Kai couldn’t quite hear it. It didn’t quite seem to matter, anyway.

Conrad didn’t answer for a while, although his fingers kept running through her hair and stroking her neck. “Yeah. Not every day – I don’t think I could function – but yeah. Yeah, I’d like that once in a while.”

His hand caught in her hair and he gave it a little tug. “On the other hand, I like this, too.”

She swallowed a gasp. “Merry… Merry Christmas.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/597767.html. You can comment here or there.

On this Date: Addergoole Drabbles of Kailani

October 29, 2004

“I’m not a big fan of Hallowe’en.” Kai frowned at Conrad, but he had is back to her and thus was unmoved.

“I’m not surprised, but that doesn’t mean the kids shouldn’t have their fun. They’re kids, Kaia.”

“They’re…” She couldn’t really argue. “Fine. Captain America and Wonder Woman it is.”

October 29, 2013
“Mom.” Audra dropped the costume on Kailani’s lap. “Mom.” She added a needle and thread and a pair of scissors. “Mom. Dean Storm!

“You can’t call her that.” Her twin Alistair hissed it at her.

“I can if she doesn’t answer to anything else. Mom!”

Kai blinked at her children. “Right.” The world had ended, but Hallowe’en, damn it, had to go on. “Hem, right?”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/592742.html. You can comment here or there.

The Cup, Part IX


After The Cup and The Cup, Part II, and The Cup Part III, and The Cup, Part IV, and The Cup, Part V, The Cup, Part VI, and
The Cup, Part VII, and The Cup, Part VII, in that Order

Cynara was… walking straight up a vertical road.

Pellinore stared at his former Keeper for a moment. This was impossible.

Part of his brain kicked the rest of it. He was looking at a woman who could bend minds and bodies, in a world where gods had destroyed almost everything. Impossible had really lost a great deal of meaning somewhere along the way, and all mere mortals could do was hold on for improbable.

“This is improbable.” JohnWayne had grabbed his hand, though, and he was being dragged onto the strange road along with the two of them.

“So’re you.” His son spared him an exasperated glance. “You complain a lot.”

“It’s my lot in life.” Stepping onto the road felt like getting off a carnival ride; his sinuses tried to fall out of his body for a moment, and then the new gravity of the road asserted itself.

It wasn’t a long walk, as such things went, and it was fine until you looked down. Pellinore caught Cya doing it first, twisting to look and then freezing, her face turning ashen, until she could force her feet to move again. Then JohnWayne. Pellinore held off as long as he could, but when he did, the world was a long, long way down.

“Can we survive that? If we fell?” JohnWayne’s voice was rather small.

“Yes.” Cya’s was clipped, and pitched to carry without her having to turn around again. Pellinore just nodded, though neither of them could see him. “But in that ‘that’s going to suck for a couple centuries’ sort of way. Less chit-chat now. We’re almost there.”

“There,” it appeared, was a cottage a mile above the ground, where the road bent back to “flat” to serve as a driveway.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/592328.html. You can comment here or there.

A week of Settings – Day Seven: Sideshow and Addergoole East

Faerie Apocalypse
The origins of the fae are lost to history. What we know is that the ones who would be called gods came to our world a few centuries BC, and left sometime about two millenia ago.

They left behind their halfblood bastards, fae who were almost as powerful as they had been, the children of the so-called gods and the humans around them. In time, those fae bred with other humans, the lines diluting with generations.

Then, in 2011, the gods came back, claiming their rightful place. Neither humanity nor the relatives that had been left behind were willing to allow this; the war that follow destroyed nine-tenths of the human population (see: Deaths in the Faerie Apoc) and most of the infrastructure of the world. Thus: faerie apocalypse, the gods war.

Addergoole East is one of the adjunct schools to the original Addergoole project.

Run by an Addergoole West (the original school) graduate, who also happens to be a niece of the original Director, Addergoole East is an integrated school, combining human education in a post-apocalyptic time with the education of fae. This balance, in a time when fae are nearly-universally disliked, is maintained carefully by Dean Storm and her staff.

SideShow shows us another corner of the post-apocalyptic world.

The Two by Two Zoo travels from town to town, settlement to settlement, much in the way that travelling sideshows have for centuries. This one, however, has a purpose beyond simply entertaining: propaganda.

In the Zoo’s moving cages are lions, tigers, bears… and a fae, cute and furry and helpless looking. Sideshow is her story.

That’s seven settings. What would you like to learn about my writing next “week?”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/591065.html. You can comment here or there.

The Cup, Part VIII


After The Cup and The Cup, Part II, and The Cup Part III, and The Cup, Part IV, and The Cup, Part V, The Cup, Part VI, and
The Cup, Part VII, in that Order

“This is the way up?”

JohnWayne looked at his Keeper, then back at the road, then back at Cynara, then back at the road. The road bent at a ninety degree angle, straight up into the air. The road they were now standing behind, staring up at.

“No offense, but are your sure your power’s working?”

“You let him talk like that?”

“Oh, thanks.” He glared at his… at Pellinore, who was glaring right back at him.

“Boys.” Cynara sounded mostly amused. Good. JohnWayne wasn’t really fond of her angry. “Yes, Pellinore. He’s never tried to blow up anything of mine.”

“You kidnapped me.”

“Dude.” Was this guy for real? “She kidnaps everyone.

“Not everyone, JohnWayne.”

“Enough people. A guy a year for how long…?”

“And when I accosted your father, the world had not yet ended. I didn’t particularly have a reputation for kidnapping people, outside of my own pack. And he was angry.”

“…I suppose. But why wouldn’t you let me question you?”

“I’m also not in my mid-twenties anymore. We all grow up.” She aimed a pointed look at Pellinore. JohnWayne almost pitied his father. Almost. “Most of us, at least. Now. This way.” She began walking forward, as if she was going to walk herself right into the road/wall.

“Cya…!” JohnWayne reached for her. She caught his hand and kept walking towards the underside of the road. “Cya, this isn’t funny, please don’t hurt your… oh.” Her body leaned backwards, first at a 45-degree angle to the ground, and then, as she stepped onto the road, at a 90-degree angle. “Oh.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/589837.html. You can comment here or there.

On this Date: Addergoole Drabbles of Gregori/The Kraken

October 24, 2004

“What about that one?”

Speed was curled against Gregori’s leg in the middle of the Dining Hall, pointing out people he thought were attractive, or tasty, or good potential subs.

Gregori ran his hands through the boy’s hair. He liked him here. It would be nice to not have compunctions about it.

“How about that one?” He pointed at a lovely Tenth Cohort, with dark eyes and honey-brown skin.

October 24, 2013
(See The Black House Stories for context)

If he hadn’t know why Pretty had chosen to live with him…

Yaminah. Yaminah, because her two years under his collar were over…

He was certainly beginning to understand. She leaned against him, her shoulder blades to his.

The enemy was inside his walls, but they would not live. His Pretty had assured his survival along with her own.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/588936.html. You can comment here or there.

The Cup, Part VII


After The Cup and The Cup, Part II, and The Cup Part III, and The Cup, Part IV, and The Cup, Part V, The Cup, Part VI, in that Order

The road turned upward at a ninety degree angle.

More importantly, it was still doing so in the morning, so it hadn’t been some sleep-deprived illusion of some sort. No, the road just went upwards.

The sign at the base said, simply, If you really need to know how to visit me, you’ll find a way.

“Isn’t this a little obvious?” JohnWayne frowned at the sign. “I mean, massive display of magic and all, isn’t that verboten?”

“You live with Boom.” His father stared at him in incredulity.

“I’m collared by Boom.” Despite what he’d said to his father the night before, sometimes it still startled him how easily the words rolled off his tongue. “That doesn’t mean that I’m in on their policy decisions. Besides, Boom doesn’t do anything this big on their home territory.”

“Okay, that I can believe. Still…”

“Still, this is ostentatious. Be ready for battle.” Cya’s clipped words were underlined by the hawthorn blade she was sheathing in her boot. “JohnWayne, lock the bus down, and then we’ll go.”

The orders didn’t feel like yanks on his strings anymore, but it was interesting to watch his father’s face, and the way he moved like he was being ordered. You take well to the collar, Cya had told JohnWayne once. He was beginning to understand the ways that one could take badly to it.

He locked down the bus, triggering the Workings Cya kept hanging for that purpose. Meanwhile, however, Pellinore was pacing around in circles, muttering Workings. JohnWayne tried to ignore his father so he could do his own work. The words kept popping up, however, and finally he had to ask. “What…”

“Buffing.”

“Polishing…?”

“You don’t remember the world before the war at all, do you?”

JohnWayne shook his head. “I remember preschool, a little. I remember Mom. But that’s about it.”

“Remember…” Pellinore’s fists clutched, and then, much to JohnWayne’s surprise, he reached out as if to hug.

Cya saved him from that awkward horribleness. “Come on, boys. I’ve found our route.”

Of course she had. What had taken her so long?

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/588506.html. You can comment here or there.

One Year Ago / Taking It Outside the Family, a continuation of fae apoc

One year ago, I wrote Family Matters to Rix’s prompt (What about the kid no-one wants to Mentor?), for the “The Norm” Giraffe Call.

This story follows after that

Reegan knew what was going on, even if his Mother either couldn’t see it or wouldn’t admit it. And he knew that he was never going to get a Mentor where his mother had been.

He went back to Connell, Sharp-Hands-Flying, the second one to turn his mother down – and if that had happened more often in the past, Reegan wouldn’t have to go through this. But that was in the past, and not the problem right now.

“I’m not going to ask. You already said no, and I get that. I can guess why, too.”

The older man had the grace to look embarrassed. “Sorry, kid, it’s just…”

“Yeah, I know. But look, I do have a favor to ask.”

He was banking on Connell being uncomfortable enough that a favor would seem like an easy way out, and he wasn’t disappointed. “I can probably do that. What sort of favor?”

“I’ve been talking to people online…” He waited for the requisite glare. “And there’s a small circle of, ah, like-minded people over in Carter. But I can’t drive yet, and that’s a long walk, even for me.”

“It’s a long walk for the Flash, kid, and you’re not that quick.”

“The Flash is fictional. But…”

“You didn’t ask me just for the car, or you would have asked Janus or one of the others. So you’re asking me because you want back-up if this goes south.”

Reegan swallowed. “Yeah…?”

“You’re not quite as good at this as your mom yet, kid. Give it time.”

“That’s not… I don’t…”

Connell patted his shoulder. “Yes, I’ll take you to Carter. Got an address? The Smokey Cafe, maybe?”

“…yeah?” He was quickly losing control of the situation. “You know of it?”

“Well, at least you’ve got a good chance of them being decent people. Come on, jump in. Might as well go before your mom notices.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/588052.html. You can comment here or there.