I love me some gen threads, especially funny or drama-filled ones, but I am also shamelessly here for shipping AUs. The general Liem-shipping vibe is "I want more than this, but I shouldn't & they can't possibly want me back," so if you're into that, I've got what you need. His default setting is very D&D-like high fantasy, but I'm comfortable playing him in modern fantasy settings as well. Pretty much any prompt can also accommodate Liem being a full vampire instead of a dhampir, if that's your thing.
Prompts for inspiration:
• Arranged Marriage: Liem's shady vampire family has arranged his marriage to you, but he seems a rather reluctant fiance.
• Bodyguard Shipping: It's Liem's duty to keep you safe and out of trouble, possibly despite your best efforts.
• Companion to Royalty: Reclusive vampire king Liem and YOU! Are you a gift from a local power? Sacrifice from the townsfolk? Or did you just stumble up the road to his castle during a storm?
• Enemies to Lovers: Maybe Liem is a foreign agent trying to sabotage your country or organization. Or maybe you're rebelling against the current regime and he's trying to take you in.
• Fake Dating/Fake Married: A relationship is your cover story while you're travelling for some secret reason. Gotta keep up appearances.
• Hunter & Hunted: Are you a hunter trying to track Liem down? Or a snack that proved more than he bargained for?
• Hurt (Comfort Optional): Whether he's hurt, sick, drugged, or just upset, two things remain constant: Liem needs help, and he doesn't want to accept it. But maybe you don't want to fix him anyway; maybe you want to make him worse.
• Living a Lie: Whether you're undercover on a mission, or you lied to cover something up and now you have to commit, you're stuck playing a role until you accomplish some secret objective — or until you can shake off your nosy company.
• Loss of Control: For whatever reason, one of you is struggling not to go berserk — or perhaps has already failed. If it's Liem, can you help him come back to himself, or are you the one pushing him over the edge?
• Out of the Frying Pan: The classic "tried to help someone in trouble, ended up with a new and possibly worse problem" situation. But at least you're in it together!
• Priest/Celibacy: Default here is that Liem is the priest, but it could go the other way. Smutty, or just laden with UST? You decide.
• Texting: Stupid TFLN-style text threads, my beloved...
• Random Scenario: For if none of the above tickle your fancy.
contact. ![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico) Sporelett | info. Link | permissions. Link
|
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
In this, at least, your task is easy.
[ Tucking the comb between his fingers, he steps back, looks Liem over critically, and then leans close to smooth careful fingers over his silver temples. They don't really need smoothing; he's mostly being indulgent. ]
All you have to do is show up and pretend that Gusairne has absconded with your body.
[ Having completed this task satisfactorily, he will step back again, giving Liem a final once-over. It is truly a cruel irony that his husband looks so ethereal in the soft firelight, shadows dancing over his chest and shoulders, with nothing but the towel to cover his slim hips. Few other sights could have so strengthened his antipathy towards returning to Hollow Hall.
Unfortunately, his feelings don't matter, and they won't show on his face -- though there is a slight flicker of tension in the twitch of his tail and the line of his shoudlers. ]
You are excruciatingly handsome.
Pray put on clothes before I find a way to forget my promise.
no subject
And once he is allowed to rise again, Liem draws close and stretches up on his toes, finding Cardan's jaw with his hand, so he can press a brief kiss against his cheek.]
Your handiwork, surely. Come, then.
[In acquiescence to his husband's request, he will find his way back to their wardrobe and set about the task of dressing in something suitable. Severe and unapproachable is the mood of the night, he thinks, so he eschews the glittering blue he'd been examining before and dresses instead in exactingly-tailored black and dark green, beaded in places with gold like some exotic venomous serpent. It is not modest attire, especially not once he adorns himself with jewellery, but as he has surely proven already, even fussy and work-obsessed men can be concerned with looking criminally good.
And especially with looking criminally good next to the spouse they've dragged to a party at an obnoxiously punctual hour. Which means that it is only once they are both groomed, dressed and coordinated to an excessive degree that they will finally emerge to make the trip back to Hollow Hall, through the forests and fields, around the wide, breeze-ruffled waters of the lake, peeked at once again by eyes curious and unnerving alike. Liem is every bit as curious as he gazes back out, as intrigued as he'd been on the night of their arrival. Now, though, his nerves are not so shot, and his interest in the surrounds more akin to that of a cat observing birds through a window.]
no subject
Then they must move on to the business of the night.
The fact that they both look phenomenal does soothe him -- or rather, it's more that looking at Liem across from him in the carriage distracts him from his morose, anxious thoughts. How could it not? Draped in jewelry and exquisitely tailored, he looks every bit an enigmatic vampire prince, powerful enough that even someone like Balekin may hesitate to offend him.
The thought comforts Cardan a little, though not enough to smooth away his jitters.
The door is there to greet them when they emerge from the carriage. Cardan is a sharply foreboding figure in black, with shimmery crow feathers at his collar and wrists. Though he greets the door with his usual warmth, it extends not past the entrance to Hollow Hall. Inside, it is as lavish and dark and subtly misshapen as outside; courtiers in various shades of undress lounge on decadent pillows and chaises, their beautiful mouths slack with intoxication.
If Balekin is surprised to see them this early, he does not let on. He will endure their greetings with perfect decorum; someone who did not know better might have described his and Cardan's interactions as cordial. Then they must make their rounds; Cardan introduces his husband to a dozen courtiers whose names he's surprised to remember, waves hello to Valerian, and then leaves Liem to fend for himself as he disappears for his talk with Balekin.
When he returns an hour later, his expression is carefully cold. He had been successful, but at a price; part of it had been to be reminded of all his pathetic, inexcusable weaknesses, all the ways in which he had failed both Balekin and himself.
He is surprised to find that when he looks around for Liem, it is accompanied by a pang of longing. He hadn't looked for someone to comfort him since he had been very young; how strange and alarming for the desire to crop up now. ]
no subject
And, on this particular occasion, his pitiless devotion to protocol underlays the cool exterior with steel.
Liem does not gaze after Cardan as he makes his way through the spacious hall to seek an audience with his brother. They both have their own tasks on which to focus, and his clever, charismatic husband is surely capable of handling his. All that is left for Liem is to occupy the courtiers who school around him like curious tropical fish, seeking a bit of entertainment, a hint of weakness, a rumour, a favour, a secret, a bargain.
Ordinarily this would be a diverting task; for all his celebrity, he is still a stranger to this land and its people. He will often find that he needs to pay attention in order to avoid being maneuvered onto the back foot, and saying something he should not. But Balekin’s guests seem especially fond of intoxicants — and he is preoccupied. As minutes lengthen toward the better part of an hour, he increasingly finds his gaze following his thoughts in the direction that his husband had disappeared in.
He is surely in no actual trouble. A lengthy discussion does not a danger make.
But Liem is distracted, and he is not attending to his present activity with the presence of mind it rightly deserves. His present companion, having heard that he has no taste for the sweetness of Faerie’s wines, plies him with something different. Just a small portion — a taste, really.
Only, a taste is all one would ever want to take of this concoction.
By the time Cardan returns to the hall, his husband has been lured onto a low chaise, and is deep in conversation with a trio of languid, partially-dressed courtiers, the majority of whom have conspired to fit onto the bit of furniture with him, though the floor is so rife with cushions that the space about it is hardly any less agreeable on which to lounge.
Teasingly, as though as part of an ongoing game, one of Liem’s companions stretches out one slender leg and drapes it over his lap. Without appearing to so much as falter from his train of thought as he speaks with an elf on his other side, he reaches down mid-conversation to gently position the encroaching limb back on the seat next to him, to the apparent delight of his new acquaintances. It is only when one of the trio spots Cardan and murmurs something to the rest that Liem looks up, his placid expression brightening visibly, even from across the room.]
no subject
Now.
He feels irritation rise, quick and hot, in his throat. The seating arrangement is more familiar and more relaxed than he had ever seen Liem engage in at a party. He thinks, for a moment, to ignore it -- to step away and get himself a drink and calm his nerves -- but then he watches the courtier slide a leg onto his husband's lap, and he's already in motion before his brain can catch up to the cold rage that slides down his spine. The partygoers part before him like a nervous sea.
Not even the expression on Liem's face can soothe his anger, though it pangs through him, a little painful. Has Liem ever looked at him like that in public? ]
I see, [ he will sneer, by way of introduction, ] that you have found the least pedigreed of Balekin's barnacles.
no subject
As for him, Liem straightens in his seat as his spouse makes his approach, abandoning his easy side-lean against the chaise’s back to perch on the seat’s edge. By the time Cardan reaches him, Liem is rising fluidly (perhaps a little too loosely, even) to his feet — though, rather than appearing guilty at having been caught being friendly with the other guests, the look on his face is almost entirely relieved.]
How I missed your charm, husband.
[There is a smell clinging to him that is distinctly and sharply herbal; on his pale cheeks, a delicate grey-violet flush has taken up residence. His irises are thin rings of blue around pupils blown wide.
He is, and has been for the last fifteen minutes, trying his absolute best to keep himself together. With the overt care of someone who is trying not to seem blatantly drunk, he straightens the set of his jacket to neaten it after his unplanned seat.]
We were just speaking of you. [He glances briefly from Cardan’s face back to the trio of courtiers, whose nervousness seems only to have increased with the direction of the conversation. Perhaps this is because he had led them to believe that their discussion was not meant for his spouse’s ears.] Ah, but it seems my companions have lost their tongues.
[How very strange. They were so chatty before.]
no subject
It takes him a moment to figure this out, too: it seems uncanny to see it on his husband, whom Cardan has only thought a little tipsy once, in a terrible bar full of noisy humans. Even then, it had not been like this -- it's so jarring as to get him to question his judgment, or would have been, were he not so intimately familiar with the look of a man deep in his cups.
Plus, Cardan recognizes the scent of the liquor.
If they're still supposed to play the stiff, unloving couple-- well, Liem has certainly abandoned the script, and Cardan doesn't see why he shouldn't, either. His hand settles quite naturally at Liem's waist; he doesn't look at the anxious trio at all. His plan of being cruel to them suddenly seems like a waste of effort.
His eyes meet Liem's dark gaze; something new stirs within his chest. A kind of strange excitement-- an anticipation he isn't sure he's supposed to be feeling.
One black eyebrow quirks upward. ] Oh? Do share. Which of my worst qualities have you discussed thus far?
Perhaps I can contribute to the list.
no subject
Because they are in public, he resists the urge to frame his husband's face in his hands, although Cardan's displeasure seems to stir that urge in him more and more of late; because he is drunk, he puts his hands on Cardan's chest instead. Beringed fingers fuss with the sit of his husband's feathered collar, idly.]
Oh, your temper, certainly. And your capacity for spite. I've been informed that you can be quite the terror when riled.
[He may have given the impression that Cardan has been a rebellious and impossible spouse, but really, it's the courtiers' own fault for assuming. Even if, in his poorly disguised delight at the topic, he had perhaps seemed as though he was giving something of his proclivities away.
He doesn't bother hiding his desire now, though beneath heavy lidded eyes, his smile is secretive.]
But I couldn't get any sympathy when I complained that you distract me from my work.
no subject
[ It's impossible to have Liem this close and pliant, his idle fingers playing with Cardan's collar, and not wrap an arm around him to pull him close. He wants to catch those richly adorned fingers in his mouth; he wants to kiss that conspiratorial smile. His ire seems to have evaporated as fog under a scorching sun, leaving behind only possessiveness.
The courtiers seem utterly inconsequential. They are utterly inconsequential -- though Cardan still ought to make sure they think better of disrespecting them both. His glance at them is icy if disinterested.
It's difficult to pull himself away from Liem's hands and the press of his lean body against Cardan's, but etiquette must. Cardan will approach the chaise, languid as a glacier, and lean over the courtier whose leg had so unwisely crept up onto Liem's lap earlier. His fingers find their elegant thigh, very nearly tender, as he presses his mouth to one pointed ear and whispers something that makes the elf turn ashen.
Then he's straightening again, dismissive. ]
Though you've amused my husband at this dull affair, I no longer require your services. [ He'll make a little shooing gesture with his fingers, not waiting to see the courtiers slink off -- his attention has already snapped back to Liem, as inevitable as a magnet honing in on steel. ]
We should go.
no subject
He is, however, forced to acknowledge their existence when Cardan releases him in order to to approach the chaise and its occupants. Liem does his utmost to recall his normal upright posture as he watches, attempting to affect cool unconcern despite the soft-edged bliss teasing at his senses. He observes Cardan whisper to the boldest of the courtiers with what passes for impassiveness.
Though he cannot quite resist the temptation to wink when one of the trio glances his way as they slink nervously off.
Then his eyes are once more on Cardan, sweeping over his elegant features with rather more heat than he would normally allow himself at a public function.]
Already? [he queries, as though even this first hour or so hasn't felt nigh-interminable. Liem tilts his head inquisitively as he looks up at his husband.] Won't our host feel snubbed?
no subject
His arm winds around Liem again, herding him close to Cardan. ]
Oh, I suppose we could stay, [ he'll propose with insincere generosity, ] if you're so eager to play the dismal bureaucrat a while longer.
[ The delicate lavender blush on Liem's cheeks begs for touch; he can't help but brush his knuckles against the skin, delighted at its appearance in so public a context. ]
If I start at one end of the revel and you at the other, we can have schmoozed with the entire party within but a few brief hours.
[ He glances out at the landscape of lounging, glittering gentry; some look away, quickly. ]
After that, it'll only be an orgy or two before it's a respectable time to leave.
no subject
How long has it been since he’d been affected by drink to this extent? Or even at all? Months — since before they were married. He hasn’t had more than a few glasses of ordinary, Ironside wine at any given event for the entire time he’s known Cardan, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he’s conscious of having made a mistake, of being vulnerable in a way he hadn’t planned on being tonight, much less in public.
But he is more concerned with the warm brush of his husband’s knuckles against his cheek, and the arm wrapped possessively around him.]
Hm.
[A pensive hum accompanies his hasty assessment that even had he wanted to stay, he’s no longer in any condition to convincingly act the part of forbidding, fun-hating foreigner. Also, the idea of being separated again from his husband’s side fills him with marked antipathy.]
Were you… satisfied by your brotherly conference?
[By which he means, did Cardan secure the money he needs?]
no subject
He will start moving -- at a pace saved from being brisk only by the fluidity of his steps and the fact that he's radiating smug self-assurance. They are not close to the entrance to Hollow Hall, but in a way, that is better; Cardan will pull Liem toward, and through, an unassuming little door at the back of the room. It leads to a servants' corridor, low and dim and narrow. Cardan has to stoop to walk through it. ]
I have that which we came for, [ is all he will say to Liem's question, because calling himself satisfied would have been a lie. ]
...and my husband, who has made unwise choices tonight.
no subject
I was distracted, [he admits. It's foolish — he shouldn't have let himself become so when his husband was trusting him to enact his half of their little plot. He has not helped either of them by letting his attention wander so.
But he had not expected Cardan to take so long. It made him restless to consider his husband alone with the man whose house this is, and who, by Cardan's own admission, was perennially angry with him.]
Also, I did not know liquor could be this potent. This would, I think, not inaccurately be labelled poison anywhere else.
no subject
The servants that pass them are all human, all with the same dreamy, empty expression. Some sing little songs; others whisper fragments of sentences here and there. All appear to be sleepwalking through their tasks, and quite malnourished.
Cardan pays them no mind. They descend to a slightly wider hallway, and he will take a sharp left, his fingers intertwined with Liem's. Two doors later, they will emerge into the night not far from the stables, where Cardan will order their carriage to be brought to them for the second time in a fortnight. ]
no subject
[Liem poses this idle question as they pass through Hollow Hall's dim little back corridors, unseen and unnoticed, even by the dreaming humans who pass them by. He begins to understand the strangeness his husband must have experienced upon his arrival to Ironside, when he moved into his new groom's home and had to contend with human staff who were all clear-eyed and fluent of speech. Even the dominated staff at other vampires' homes don't tend to display such profound neglect.
It works out in their favour tonight. There is no one to question their quiet passage through the manor, no one to note the way their fingers twine together or the way Liem cleaves as close to his husband as the space will reasonably allow, stealing longing glances at Cardan in the low light. It is only once they emerge near the stables that Liem attempts to recall himself some dignity, so that he can at least climb back into the carriage without wobbling on the way up.
He is intensely grateful for the privacy the little space provides, and sighs back against the seat as soon as the door closes.]
no subject
[ He's not unaware of the closeness of Liem's body to his, of the way he keeps glancing at Cardan -- and he remembers the relief on his husband's face when he'd spotted him. Perhaps Liem is drunker than Cardan had initially thought -- and happier than he is letting on about being herded back home. He supposes anyone in that position might have been glad to see a co-conspirator's face.
Well, Cardan is all too happy to play caretaker.
For now, he will settle opposite Liem, not quite as languid and lounging as he usually might. It's only once they have rattled past the gates of Hollow Hall that Cardan allows himself to breathe out a little of his tension. His eyes find his husband's face, careful in their catalogue of his features -- the huge, dark eyes, the sharp cheekbones, his mouth. He wonders if Liem might taste of liquor, and then-- wonders why on earth he should have to wonder about this. ]
Come here, [ he will demand, quietly, holding out his hand. ]
no subject
It speaks to a failure of his imagination, that he has continued to make assumptions based on his life in Ironside even in the midst of this alien place. Cardan is right to be incredulous.
He has, he knows, made trouble for them both. If Balekin seeks recompense for their insult, Liem will not be the only one to pay for it. But at the moment, he is easily distracted. It is a simple thing for Cardan to lift him from his melancholy.
He has only to extend his hand, and Liem reaches out to take it, claiming it for himself as he crosses the modest space between them to straddle Cardan's lap. He places that hand where he so keenly wants it, which at the moment is against his gently flushed face, cupped beneath his own. And, breathing out a small sigh, he leans close to catch Cardan's mouth in a kiss.]
no subject
It's stupid to worry about. Not when he has secured the money they came to Elfhame for, and especially not when he has his uncommonly pliant and affectionate spouse in his lap. Cardan's other hand joins his first in cradling Liem's face, fingertips still fascinated with the gentle spread of that blush -- not warm, not really, even though it feels like it should be. He worries instead about tasting the traces of revelry on Liem's lips, and whether intoxication will allow Cardan to finally be the one to kiss his husband breathless. He thinks not, but his attempt will be valiant regardless. ]
You look so good like this, [ he will murmur-- and then catch himself and frown a little, pulling away, Liem's face still caught in the cage of his fingers. ] How are you feeling?
[ ...perhaps he should be more concerned. Cardan is not a restrained drinker, but the liquor he smells on Liem will get even him on the road to oblivion sooner rather than later. ] And how much have you had, anyway? Half a bottle? More?
no subject
On nights like this one, Faerie seems just as fantastically bewildering as ever — but no matter how lost he feels amongst the sea of wicked smiles and pointed ears, Cardan remains his harbour and his north star. He is the one thing in Liem's life that he can count on to remain constant, and when he is alone with him, it's amazing how easily other concerns manage to fade into the background.
He is indeed breathing rather more noticeably when Cardan pulls back to regard him, and warmth flutters eagerly in his chest in a way that is probably, hopefully just because of the liquor. He blinks for a moment as he summons the reason for his husband's questions back to his mind.]
Drunk and foolish, [he admits, though this should be no great surprise.] I had… It was only a couple ounces, probably.
[It had not seemed like a threatening quantity of drink at the time.]
no subject
His eyebrows rise. ]
…it appears you have been tricked. As have I.
[ A little funny, really; they have both overestimated Liem, albeit for different reasons. He should be angry at the interloping courtiers, probably, but it’s difficult to do when his deeply attractive husband is in his lap, affectionate and drunk and apparently relieved to be with him.
Cardan sighs, a little wistful, and lets his hands settle on Liem’s thighs, stroking absent-mindedly along the fine fabric of his trousers. But his eyes are half-lidded when he regards Liem’s face, and there is something greedy hiding in the velvet-soft affection of his voice. ]
How drunk, Liem?
[ The fingers on Liem’s thighs splay, a little possessive. If Cardan’s sly smile is any indication, he is no longer asking out of concern. ]
no subject
But that is of little concern to him. For the past week, he has been endeavouring to support his husband in whatever way he can, to be his partner and ally even in this land he knows so little about. But this is still Cardan's home, in its own way, not Liem's — and in some ways it's relieving to be a little unprepared, to have his weaknesses exposed and to simply lean on Cardan for once, letting him take the reins.
He does lean on him, when Cardan moves his hands down to Liem's thighs. Liem rests his forehead against Cardan's with a soft sigh, letting his eyes sink closed for a moment. With his eyes shut, the motion of the carriage is enough to make his head spin.]
Substantially, [he murmurs.] The kind that I've only ever previously arrived at by working at it.
[With the kind of liquor available in Ironside, how could it have been otherwise?]
And usually, in private.
no subject
His breath out is quiet, deliberately measured. ]
Are you tired?
[ He tilts his face to brush his mouth against the corner of Liem’s, more a caress than a kiss, achingly gentle about it. His hands sweep indulgently up to Liem’s slim hips, his waist, drag careful fingertips up over his chest until Cardan’s palms find their way to that flushed face once more, cradling him there. He’s a little jealous: of Liem’s drunkenness, of the ease with which he seems to trust Cardan with himself, undeserving as Cardan may be — undeserving as he almost certainly is. ]
no subject
Ordinarily, he tries not to let this alarming degree of contentment be overtly obvious — for reasons that seem insignificant at the moment, caught as he is in this easy, dizzying bliss. Would it be the end of the world, if his own husband knew that he made Liem happy?]
No, [he says, tipping his mouth into a lingering, affectionate kiss.] Just…
[He interrupts his own thought, too intent on kissing the soft curve of his husband’s mouth, on chasing the intimate feeling of warm hands cradling his face and Cardan’s breath soft against his lips. How often is he indulged like this? How often does he let himself want to be?]
Just relaxed. You’re so warm.
no subject
Indulgence looks delightful on you.
[ Cardan's mouth curves into another satisfied smile, though he cannot quite summon his usual sharp, mischievous edge to go along with it. Instead, he hides it against the crook of Liem's neck, pressing hot, unhurried kisses just above his unnecessarily stiff collar. If his tail were out, it would be making satisfied loops against the velvet cushions of the seat.
Liem isn't tired, which means that Liem is in rather more danger than he probably suspects. Even back at the party, with all his irritation bubbling through his blood, Cardan had the forethought to swipe a single, specific little bottle off a low side table. It burns a hole in his jacket pocket now.
But that is a trick for later. Now, his touch trails to Liem's chin, a single long finger pressing to the underside of it, directing Liem to look at him. He has, if nothing else, regained his smugness; affectionate hunger lives in the gaze he directs at his husband. ]
I wonder how much of it you're willing to give me.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...