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Messages - Max Kuczynski

Pages: [1] 2 3
1
30-Day Challenge! / Re: Day Thirty!
« on: 04/30/2015 at 20:49 »
Challenge Accepted


Playing this gorgeous stud here! And more specifically, becoming a Quidditch star, getting all the hot witches, causing havoc with Thaddeus, finally getting Travis to go to a party with me, and most of all, STUDYING FREAKIN' MAGIC!




2
1944 / Re: Bubbling Heights | OPEN
« on: 04/30/2015 at 20:25 »
"Oh my! Please be careful!"

Max rolled his eyes. One downside of climbing was that people were always worrying he might fall, the worst of all being his mother. She always used to scream on the playground when he was a child, thus embarrassing him in front of the other kids.

"It's okay," he gasped out, "I have practice."

He was nearing the top, moving faster than usual as to not keep the other guy waiting. A minute later, he was already on the ledge, another step and he was in through the front door. He waited a few seconds to catch his breath, and then turned to the stranger.

"Hi, I'm Max," he introduced himself, "I don't think we've met before."

He observed the surrounding space. It was a small, peculiar-looking room, full of seemingly random objects. On the walls were hanging all sorts of crooked bookcases and cupboards, full of broken clocks, pans, plates, teapots and most of all, books. They were all covered in dust, but you could see that some of them had been moved recently, probably by curious campers. Aside from the wall hangings, there was also a wooden desk, covered in dried out spilled ink, as well as a pair of ragged armchairs and  between them a small coffee table, made of coloured glass. The whole place was a celebration of nostalgia and Max quite enjoyed the atmosphere.

"I'm surprised you couldn't find a balloon bottle in here," Max noted somewhat surprised. "It seems like this place contains literally every object known to the human race."

The last sentence was a bit of an overstatement, but Max liked to exaggerate even when there was no need of thar. Another thing he liked was adventures.

"Hey, wanna look around?"He raised a conspiring eyebrow to his new friend. "We might find something to help get you down"

The Wonderland theme was bringing out Max's mischievous side and his desire for going on quests and discovering secrets. He hoped this would turn out to be one of those adventures.

3
1944 / Re: Don't believe me just watch| Max
« on: 04/30/2015 at 19:30 »
@Marlena, Let's continue being Quidditch rivals at Hogwarts, it was so much fun! We'll PM when there's a game up or something (sorry I couldn't make it for game 2  :()

The others, you have been contacted in one way or another!



4
1944 / Re: loud sweating
« on: 04/30/2015 at 18:36 »
Hi, Jay, I'm Nancy. I play Max here and Lana Lancaster in elsewhere. It's nice to meet you :)

You're lucky you got here just when the term's about to start. Summer is fun but school is waaay more exciting (surprisingly, I mean that in real life too!)

Congratulations on making Zetto look like an actual firstie, instead of using an FC who is clearly older (not that James Franco is 15, but still, I admire your choice)

(I also like using brackets a lot)

Anyway, you seem like a cool guy (you're a guy, right?) and it would be great to RP with you sometimes. Max is really friendly and would gladly help Zetto with some flying tips or something. :)

5
1944 / Re: Get out of here, this is my tree! (Séraphine)
« on: 04/30/2015 at 18:22 »
Séraphine. Max repeated her name in his head, trying to memorise it in her lyrical way of speaking. It was a beautiful name for an even more beautiful girl. However, there was something about her appearance that seemed warm and inviting, not like the coldness that streamed out of most physically attractive girls. That is probably why Max didn't get his usual help-there's-a-pretty-girl-talking-to-me stutter. That, and the fact that they were up on a freaking tree. What else were they going to do if he couldn't talk to her?

"Séraphine," he repeated with a similar to her accent. "That's French, right?"

Then he pushed himself up and sat on an upper branch. He reached out his hand and proclaimed:

"Mademoiselle, I solemnly invite you to join me in my personal tree lodge, or, as I like to call it, the Nest. It's not too far up and the view is fantastique "

His mother hired a French au-pair when he was four. He hadn't learnt the language too well, but his pronunciation was remarkably on-point.

6
1944 / Re: Ludomania [Max]
« on: 04/30/2015 at 17:36 »
"Choose another," his friend suggested, as if he was talking about something as insignificant as dessert.

"Maybe I will," Max said, half-serious. "Maybe I'll change it to, what was it that you said just now, Maximus. That way you won't be the only one whose name sounds like it belongs to a 200-year-old snob."

He didn't say that to be mean, it was just the way he talked to people. Sometimes they got the joke and laughed, sometimes they didn't and were offended. In Thaddeus's case, it was probably going to be neither. His emotional arsenal varied from slightly bored to slightly arrogant.

Now that Max had discovered the pair of Hebridian blacks, he was the one being not-so-slightly arrogant, but it was all an act, of course. He got slightly annoyed when his friend revealed the two Manticores Max had been trying to collect all the way, mainly because he interrupted his state of pretend showiness. He was hoping to get the chance to act smug for at least a few more minutes.

He decided to pull out a little stunt to get even. It wasn't much of a revenge plot, really, and Thaddeus would probably dodge it anyway, but it was worth taking a shot.

He revealed two of the cards that were closest to Thaddeus and knew for sure weren't a match. Only, while he was turning them around, he secretly put on top of them two matcing cards he'd drawn earlier. Magic tricks were his hobby since the age of five (ironically for a wizard) and he has had lots of time to master the card swapping trick. He was quite confident that even a smart guy like Thaddeus wouldn't be able to spot it.

"What do you know," he said in a surprised tone, "There seem to be two pairs of Mountain trolls in this deck.

There was no way Thaddeus would fall for that line. Hopefully, the Bowtruckle and the Cyclop hidden beneath the trolls would explode in his face before he has the chance to call the shenanigan.

It was a childish prank and it was uncalled-for. Still, the idea of his mate getting his eyebrows singed was so hilarious that even the thought of it made him wanna burst out in laughter.

7
1944 / Re: Bubbling Heights | OPEN
« on: 04/30/2015 at 16:39 »
What was it with Max and trees these days? He always seemed to be bumping on people while climbing on trees. They seemed to have turned into the hustling and bustling centre of camp or something.

Actually, this time he was preparing to climb a tree, when he heard a voice, coming from up above. He had been circling around its trunk for the last couple of minutes, inspecting its surface in order to determine what he liked to call its "climbability", unaware that there was someone in one of the tree houses.

"Excuse me, can you help me down?", he heard an unusually polite male voice say. "The bottle for returning seems to have been misplaced."

"Hi, there!", he waved cheerfully at the stranger. He had a long brown hair and a rather serious-looking face, but it might have been just because he was worried. He certainly wasn't a Cheshire Cat, for he had never seen him around before.

Max wasn't sure how he could be of any help. He'd been up on the tree houses countless times before, but not even once had he used the balloon bottles as a means of transport. Climbing trees was something of a hobby of his and he wasn't going to give it up just for the sake of the whole Alice setting. Actually, he had tried riding on an upward balloon once, just to see if he would be able to make it fly higher, but of course, it didn't work. He had returned to climbing both up and down ever since, which was why he was never carrying any balloon bottles. Today was no exception.

He looked around the tree, hoping to find a coffee table or a drawer full of these things, but he had no luck with that. Wasn't Alice always finding all sorts of magical potions whenever and wherever she needed them? "Fairytales," he thought, "they always give you such high expectations of the world."

"Sorry, mate!", he said to the boy in the tree house, "There aren't any bottles for returning here, either." Then he added in a reassuring tone:

"I'm sure someone who has one would turn up soon enough. In the meantime, I can come up and keep you company. I was just about to climb up there anyway."

Then, with a remarkable lightness to his motions, he started to move up the tree.

8
1944 / Re: Dreaming as the summer die {Open}
« on: 04/30/2015 at 09:17 »
Max chuckled at the surprisingly warm invitation and sat himself down beside her, surrounded by just about every type of flower in the world. Most of them he couldn't identify, but for a few sorts that his mother grew in their garden. The tiger lilies were his personal favourite, its fiery orange blossoms reminding him of his childhood, wild and short-living.

“What if ‘they’ are us? The students here at camp? I mean, surely we suffer from our simple sorrows and joys that could envy one who had perhaps gone through a greater amount of pain?”

This girl truly was a miracle. He marveled at the perfect chemistry the two of them have displayed ever since the beginning of their little quest. Each time one of them had a somewhat foggy idea, the other would instantly develop it through their own terms of interpretation. He had no idea if they were even remotely close to finding the answer (that is, if there actually was one), but if they had been the protagonists in a criminal novel, the killer would stand absolutely no chance.

He read the note again, citing the passage that was interesting him out loud.

"Remembering my own child-life, and the happy summer days.", he read slowly. Suddenly, his face lighted up, giving out a satisfied grin, as if he has finally found what he was looking for.

"You know, I think that's exactly it!", he exclaimed. "The author dreams of his or her own childhood and summer days, as if while observing from afar somebody else's. And where are we standing now? In a summer camp full of children!

Max could hardly hold back his excitement, but all of a sudden, he stopped smiling. A deep furrow formed on his forehead, for there was something about the whole thing that was bugging him from the start and he had finally figured out what that was. He turned to his companion, looking unusually worried, and said:

"Do you...do you believe that Alice might have been real? I mean, I know that she was a child that inspired Lewis Carroll to write the book, but, I mean, do you think it might have all been real and she might have been...here? And what's more, I think she might still be here...in a way. Only she would be like really old, probably even a ghost. That would explain why she felt so lonely, don't you think?"

Max realised that he was sounding like a madman. He wouldn't be surprised if the stranger girl ran off to the infirmary to get him a psychiatrist. Nevertheless, he had never been more convinced in something his entire life.

9
1944 / Re: Ludomania [Max]
« on: 04/27/2015 at 18:33 »
"Max. Is that short for something?"

"Yeah", Max answered distractedly, his mind clearly focused on the game. He was racking his brains hard (something he didn't do too often), trying to figure out where the second Manticore could be. He had been contemplating his next move for so long that he wasn't even sure anymore which one was the first Manticore, even though he had opened it only two rounds prior to this one.

He must have gotten his low attention span from his mother, he thought. She would always forget what she was talking about and would start telling something else entirely. Although, in her case, it had to do with all the calming potions she was drinking. His mother was a very anxious woman.

Luckily, Thaddeus didn't seem too eager to get to his turn. He seldom seemed eager to do anything, for that matter.

"Maximus, Maximilian, Maxwell, Maxine?", he suggested teasingly when Max apparently forgot to answer.

"What? Oh, it's actually Maksymillian", Max finally explained, temporarily switching his attention from the game board to his friend. "Like, M-A-K-S-Y-millian. You know, cause I'm half-Polish and all."

He always felt like he was lying when he told people about his Polish descent, since he had never felt any connection to that country at all. His mom had told him his father was Polish but he'd died when Max was very young. For some reason, Max didn't believe that to be true, but he didn't give much thought to it, either. Still, it was weird saying he was half-Polish when he knew nothing about Poland, but for its capital and relative location on the map.

"I've always hated that name", Max confided to his friend. "When I was younger, teachers would always come and tell me that I had spelt my name wrong on my homework assignment or whatever. It's such a drag."

He realised that they hadn't been playing at all for the last five minutes or so. It was still his turn and he wasn't even remotely closer to remembering the position of the Manticore. Finally, he decided to reveal two entirely different cards instead. Suprisingly, they turned out to be a pair of Hebridean Blacks.

"How about that, huh?", he looked up at Thad, a smug grin appearing on his face. "My mind's sharper than basilisk fangs, my friend!" Then he made a hissing voice, accompanied by an appropriate grimace.

Max wasn't a particularly sore loser, but when he was on the winning side, he could be annoying as hell.

10
1944 / Re: Get out of here, this is my tree! (Séraphine)
« on: 04/27/2015 at 16:03 »
Max heard a loud cracking noise, probably from the torn off branch hitting something, followed by a slight squeak. His heart started pounding in his chest as he imagined the girl's head getting smashed by the solid piece of wood. Thankfully, a reassuring voice called out only seconds later.

"I'm okay!", the girl exclaimed.

Max let out a sigh of relief, however, it only lasted for a couple of seconds. She might have been out of danger, but he still had to figure out how to get off of there without following that branch in its downfall. While he was contemplating his escape plan, the girl had made her way up and was now standing beside him, the cheeky animal finally back in her arms.

"Are you okay?" , she asked worriedly.

"Grand!", he chuckled. "I'm absorbing energy from the tree"

If there was something that Max had learnt over the course of his short life, it was that sarcasm always made things seem better, even in the most desperate of times.

Now that the girl was near him, Max felt instantly more confident. He easily managed to descend to where she was standing and was now facing her, their noses inches away.

"Hi,"he said shyly, "I'm Max."

He blinked with both eyes as a sort of a substitute gesture to the usual handshake, as he didn't want to risk losing balance again. It was already hard enough, considering how beautiful the creature standing before him was.

11
1944 / Re: Hungry Mind || Archer
« on: 04/26/2015 at 21:58 »
MAX KUCZYNSKI
15. UNSORTED/PROBABLY 5TH. THEY SHARE A SPECIAL SECRET.

They embark on a mysterious adventure together, after which none of them is ever the same. They form an unlikely bond and with time, Max's optimism and warmness manage to melt down Olivia's heart...

12
1944 / Re: Get out of here, this is my tree! (Séraphine)
« on: 04/26/2015 at 21:30 »
"Hello", a female voice called. Max detected some sort of a foreign accent in it, though he couldn't be sure. He looked down with his peripheral vision, while struggling to keep his balance, this time spotting strands of blond hair and a feminine figure. He couldn't see her too well, since he was afraid that if he bent down any more, his glasses might fall off and then it would be over with him.

"I'm just trying to retrieve my rat, Chompy", the female continued. It was clear now that she was a foreigner, her pronunciation softer and melodic like no Englishman could ever dream to sound.

She was pointing upward, a bit to the side from him. Max spotted a tiny fuzzy creature on his left, a little more than an arm's lenght away from him.

Usually, he wouldn't bother risking his life to retrieve some stranger's rodent pet, but he always got soft around pretty girls. Or at least what he thought could be a pretty girl. He still hadn't had a chance to take a good look at her.

He set his right foot on the core of what once had been a branch but was now mostly broken. It didn't seem too reliable, but he intended to balance on it for only a couple of seconds, just long enough to grab the rat and get back. However, when he pushed himself up with his left foot, the branch beneath it cracked and suddenly, his entire left leg was hanging freely, his right one barely able to sustain his body in balance. In a matter of particles of a second, he managed to wrap his arms around the tree trunk, holding it as tightly as humanly possible. As if in slow motion, he saw the broken branch tear off and inevitably start to fall downwards.

"Watch out!", he screamed at the top of his lungs, hoping that the girl wasn't standing directly beneath it or that if she was, she would be able to dodge it. He couldn't see what was happening and he risked falling down himself if he so much as tried to move his head, or any of his body parts, for that matter.

He pricked up his ears to hear a reaction, hoping to God that it wouldn't be a cry of pain.

"Are you alright there?", he cried out, fearing an answer as much as a lack of one.

13
1944 / Re: Dreaming as the summer die {Open}
« on: 04/26/2015 at 20:35 »
“A riddle maybe?”, the girl suggested, finally handing him the note. He clasped it carefully in his palm and read it once again.

It looked nothing like a riddle. For one thing, it wasn't even a question nor did it resemble one. What's more, it had no rhyme whatsoever. But the more he thought about it, the more he was convinced it had to be a riddle.

"I think you may be right", he said to the girl with the golden curls. He let off a small grin, careful not to come off as overly friendly. Although he didn't know her, he had a feeling that she was the type of person who liked to keep her distance and he let her.

"The way I see it, riddles usually fall in one of two categories: you either have to find out what it is or who am I. So in this case, we either have to find out who wrote the note, or who are they, the ones whose sorrows whoever wrote it wants to feel with."

He wasn't sure if he had made himself understood. He wasn't sure that he could even understand himself, but it all seemed so mysterious and fantastic that it almost didn't matter.

"I don't know about you, but my gut tells me it's about finding out who they are. Or what they are. Are they children or are they something else, something out of the ordinary? I don't know, I'm confused, what do you think?

He stared at the girl's eyes, which reminded him of the ocean, hoping to find in them the answer to the question, whatever that question might be.

14
1944 / Re: What Are We Again || Max
« on: 04/26/2015 at 19:58 »
"I know zero about most of Muggle literature, to be honest."

Max felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He loved discussing books, but he tended to feel a bit intimidated when the other person acted like some sort of an expert on the subject. There were quite a few people at Hogwarts who enjoyed playing literary critics and could easily ruin a pleasant conversation by acting all intellectual and genre-savvy. That is why he was relieved that Joy wasn't one of them.

"What's East of Eden about?", she asked innocently.

Blimey, how could he even begin to describe it?

"Nothing and everything, really", he said in his particular philosopher-like manner. "It tells the story of two families living in the Salinas Valley, which is in California, and their interwoven trials and tribulations of dealing with love, lost, poverty and life in general."

Wow. He managed to surprise even himself with his passionate description of a novel he had barely started reading. He had his good moments, there was no doubt about that. He was far from thinking that he could win Joy over with as little as some random literary babbling, but nevertheless, he felt slightly better about himself for finally succeeding in tying two logical sentences together.

"Have you ever been to California? I mean, you know, to the States? You, um, you ever been there?"

There he was, stuttering and stumbling again. Good ol' awkward Max.






15
1944 / Re: Dreaming as the summer die {Open}
« on: 04/26/2015 at 19:22 »
"Thank...you...so...much", Max managed to come out with, in between deep inhales and exhales. He was all out of breath from all the running and his heart was racing fast ever since he lost hold on the note. He was relieved and thankful to the girl who caught it, but also a bit annoyed that she read it. It's not like it held any secret information about him or anything, but still, it was a matter of principles. Anyway, he was way too excited about having it back to be mad at her.

Once he had restored his normal breathing, he took a closer look of the girl standing before him. He had seen her before in school, but had never spoken to her or even heard someone mention her in a conversation. She seemed kind of a loner, despite her unconventional beauty. She must be avoiding popularity on purpose, he thought, there was no way a face like that could otherwise go unnoticed.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?", he said, pointing at the note, which was still in her hands. "I found it in one of the mushrooms."

He couldn't stop looking at the piece of paper, as if it would fly again by itself any second. For some reason, he was convinced that the words written on it were of significant importance and it was no coincidence that it was no other than him who found it in this precise moment. He was beginning to feel that the wind blowing it away and this girl catching it weren't coincidental events, either.

"What do you think it means?", he asked warily. He could hardly hold back his excitement, but he wanted to see if she saw anything special in it the way he did, before saying anything more.

Not that he knew what to say about it, anyway. It was just a particular vibe he was getting from it, like a sixth sense or something. Maybe the words had a hidden meaning or a magic power or...who knows. All he knew was that it was up to him and this strange girl to find the answer. It was their destiny.

16
1944 / Re: moment for life // J-ZEE
« on: 04/26/2015 at 18:21 »
Name: Max Kuczynski, but you can call me "Kook" if you like
Age: 15 going on 16
Plots/Relationship: I can definitely see them as bros, since Max is also kind of superficial and a wannabe "cool kid". There could be sort of a rivalry between the two of them, you know, competing in sports and challenging each other and whatnot.
How on point is my hair? Don't be shy with your praises ... bae.
You think you're such a hot-shot, don't ya?

17
1944 / Get out of here, this is my tree! (Séraphine)
« on: 04/26/2015 at 17:36 »
Mid-august, early afternoon

"Aargh", Max cried out, while he was pushing himself up, the rugged surface of the bark hurting his hands. He wasn't even halfway there and he already had a nice little collection of scratches and bruises on his hands, arms and legs. The tree had turned out to be quite a nasty motherflipper, full of pointy branches and sticky resin that could drive you mad. Still, Max was in no way considering a retreat and kept on climbing and huffing and puffing and then climbing again.

It started to get easier as he approached the edge, or at least less painful. The thick sharp-cornered branches gave way to thinner and smoother ones, but they were also more likely to break. Max had set out to reach his so-called "nest", an unlikely structure of several extensions of the same branch, entangled in such a way that they formed a particularly comfortable, and most importantly, dependable seat. What's more, once settled in it, you could see the whole camp from up above, all of the areas and tents and tiny little people going about their business. It felt thrilling and empowering and Max could hardly wait to get there.

Suddenly, he heard a crack from somewhere beneath him. His heart skipped a beat, as he thought that the branch beneath his feet might have broken, but it felt as steady as ever. He looked down, but there was nothing there, either. Then he heard the noise again, this time closer.

"Hello?", he called out. "Who's there?"

"It must have been a squirrel or a bird", he tried to convince himself. "Nothing to worry about." Yet, something in his gut was telling him that there positively was somebody there, but it was neither a squirrel, nor a bird.

18
1944 / Re: Open Threads
« on: 04/26/2015 at 16:33 »
Dreaming as the summer die...

Max is feeling nostalgic at the Mimsy Meadows. Suddenly, he finds a mysterious note, only to lose it again. Are you curious to know what it read?

19
1944 / Dreaming as the summer die {Open}
« on: 04/26/2015 at 16:26 »
Late afternoon, last week of summer vacation

Max was lying on his back, his arms and feet stretched apart, trying to cover as much of the giant mushroom's surface as he could. The afternoon sunlight was gently caressing his face and he felt the stinging of a slight sunburn on the tip of his nose. He had been lying there for quite a while, just contemplating his navel.

"All that's missing is a hookah", he smirked, as he imagined himself as the Caterpillar, all blue and wrinkly. Oh no, there he was, drawing comparisons to that children's story again. It couldn't be helped, this whole summer was about remembering Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and experiencing them in the face of your own life's trials and tribulations. He wondered whether the Hogwarts staff had intentionally chosen the camp theme as a place for self-evaluation.

Max suddenly felt nostalgic. It was that especially frustrating type of nostalgia, when you don't even know what you're longing for. It couldn't be the people, since he was going to meet most of them again at Hogwarts. It wasn't summertime, either, since Max had always preferred his much more eventful school days, as opposed to summer's lazy humdrum. And he definitely wasn't going to miss the whole Alice in Wonderland setting that, for the most part, did nothing but give him the blues.

He felt a dull ache in his lower back. He had been in the same position for as long as he was there, so he decided it was time to switch sides. He rolled over, his right arm and foot now hanging freely from the edge of the mushroom top. He grabbed hold of the periphery in order to keep his balance,  but instead of the usual mushy surface, he felt a harder yet fragile material folding between his fingers.

Paper. It was a tiny piece of paper, that's what it was.

His initial gloominess was instanty replaced with a surge of excitement. He pulled it out, careful not to tear it apart and held it tightly in his fist, as he was pushing himself up with his other hand. He was now sitting on the edge with his back turned east so he could read the note, using what was left of the fading sunlight.

It was a thin piece of yellow parchment, folded about three or four times. It seemed like it had been there for a long time. Max unfolded it with the cautious precision of an operating surgeon. Then he held it before him with the tips of his fingers. It was an old, squiggly writing, but he managed to read the message:



I dream that one day I would feel with all their simple sorrows, and find a pleasure in all their simple joys, remembering my own child-life, and the happy summer days.


No sooner had he finished reading the sentence than a sudden blow of the wind swept it out of his hands, carrying it in the direction of the road. Max jumped off the mushroom and immediately run after it, but the wind was moving it too fast and he could barely see it as it was getting further and further away. There was someone approaching in the distance.

"Hey!", Max cried out. "Hey, you! The note, please, get the note!"

He wasn't sure why, but in this very moment, he felt like his life depended on that stranger catching the little piece of parchment, before it was blown away and lost forever.



20
1944 / Re: What Are We Again || Max
« on: 04/26/2015 at 14:27 »
"I really enjoy reading Muggle literature. My mother showed me Anne of Green Gables."

Anne of Green Gables, seriously? Couldn't she think of a girlier book, for Merlin's sake? Max was already struggling with the conversation and Joy wasn't making it any easier for him.

Suddenly, he felt somehow calmer. It was clear that he wasn't going to swipe her off her feet or anything, so he might as well chill out and try to have a decent chat. Just try and be friendly, nothing more.

"Anne of Green Gables? I've never read it, is it any good?", he asked with slightly more confidence in his voice. This time he was even looking at the girl's eyes.

"How about Steinbeck, have you read any? I'm currently reading "East of Eden" and I gotta say, it's pretty awesome."

He wasn't sure where he was going with that. He had no desire to play the "who's read more classics" game, but hey, it was better than nothing. He had stopped playing with his shoelaces and was now examining the wall with his fingers, just several centimeters away from Joy's shoulder. A nervous gesture, indeed, but nevertheless a slight improvement, compared to his previous posture.

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