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Nametag:rook
GREEN SPECTERS in A GHOST OF A CHANCE
Jordan Summers was the illegitimate daughter of Nathan Morgan
and thus the indirect step daughter of Axanna Morgan and the
step sister of Summer Morgan. Nathan being a rich and
handsome newspaper empire tycoon had several relationships
with international super models before marrying Axanna.
However, giving up super models is even harder than giving up
cigarettes. And Nathan had a few slips during the course of
his marriage to Axanna. The most serious and frequent of
these slips was with Selena Summer. A model who was a bitter
rival of Axanna's during her modeling career. The fact that
Nathan named his daughter with Axanna Summer was not lost
upon the young bride.
The birth of Jordan was a turning point in Axanna and
Nathan's marriage. Threatening divorce and Selene laughing at
the idea of marriage; Nathan stopped his flings and settled
down to being a dutiful father to his daughter Summer and
husband to Axanna. He continued to make sure Selene and
Jordan wanted for nothing and all but publicly acknowledged
the girl as his own.
With Nathan's death his will contained a provision for Jordan
of a significant sum. Axanna's lawyers pointed out this could
be contested and very likely done away with but Axanna
refused and this did much to seal the lingering breach
between Axanna and Selene who became stiffly polite in public
if not friends.
Selene died in a car crash not long after Nathan's murder at
the hands of would be kidnapers of Axanna who hoped to use
her to leverage Nathan to doing things in the business world
of a most questionable nature. Upon Selene's death the full
amount of her inheritance fell to Jordan who promptly left
Europe where she and her mother hand lived all their lives
and moved to Delta City.
As is often the case, it is the male who passes on the active
Aphrodite gene to the female side of the linage. And thus it
was Nathan who passed it on to first Summer his daughter with
Axanna and then to Jordan his daughter with Selene. Both
mother's had shared a passive Aphrodite gene shown in their
rare beauty but which awakened for both women upon their
pregnancies and giving birth to their daughters.
As such, after Nathan's death and Axanna using her level one
awakened gene which increased her agility and resistance to
injury and stamina to fight crime so it was that Selene in
Europe was doing the same thing. Sort of. In fact, where
Axanna had the death of her husband at criminal hands to
shape her destiny;
Selene in Europe found the secret side life as a cat burglar
most enticing. And as time passed both daughters joined their
mothers as teen sidekicks.
Jordan's apprenticeship with her mother was far longer than
Summer's with her mother as Axanna was inspired by Nathan's
sacrifice in trying to rescue her to put on the mask and
tights and fight crime. Where as in Europe Selene had already
been in mask commiting crime for almost a decade before that.
As the age of sexual consent in Europe is, as it is in most
of the world, at the logical sixteen rather then the isolated
United States more bizarre newly fashioned eighteen; Jordan
was able to join her mother far younger in the perils of
crime than Summer could join her own mother in crime
fighting.
Leaving Europe for the super heroine crime fighting capital
of the world, and richest city in the world, Delta City.
Jordan Summer arrived a year junior than Summer Morgan, 18 to
her 19, but several years more senior in experience.
Jordan knew her father was Nathan Morgan and knew about his
wife and daughter back in the states. She did not know that
these two were crime fighters. If her mother knew she had
never mentioned it.
Axanna knew about Selene and her daughter Jordan in Europe
and their connection to her husband Nathan. But she never had
any idea that the pair were high rise cat burglars living for
the thrill of it all. For whatever reasons she had decided
NOT to tell her daughter Summer about Nathan's affair(s) and
thus anything about Selene or her step-sister Jordan Summer.
So it was that the international teen super model Jordan
Summer who appeared nearly naked upon the most prestigious
runways around the world and utterly naked in the highest
paying men's magazines around the world; arrived in Delta
City to take up residence in the opulent Wade Towers.
Shinning in the glamour of the paparazzi flash bulbs and
glittering in the up scale Delta City high life...
And lurking in the darkest alleyways and leaping across
rooftops into the silent nights grinning ear to ear in
delight.
*************************************************************
Summer Morgan was wearing what every one was calling, 'A
Lydia Tea.' Lydia Welles the ward of Brenda Wade, one of the
richest and most powerful women in the world; had taken to
wearing tight faded T-shirts sans bra and had sparked a
frenzy of fashion fad in the process as only a rich air head
can do.
What made a Lydia Tea a Lydia Tea is that upon the sheer
faded T-shirt one had to have an equally faded printed design
that was of a sort of tongue and cheek sexual double
entendre.
It had all started when Lydia Welles started showing up at
school wearing far too small T-shirts emblazoned with Disney
Alice in Wonderland images with several somewhat questionable
blurbs underneath them. The first ones had been images of the
Mad Hatter's Tea party (hence Lydia's Tea) and comments about
the Cheshire Cat only referred to as 'Pussy'. The comments
need not be repeated here as they were quiet vulgar and thus
easily guessed at.
Summer somewhat knew Lydia Welles and knew the air head had
no idea that the T-shirts were of a sexual double entendre
but the fashion world had gone Mad with the idea and now
everyone who was anyone was paying insane amounts of money to
buy faded nearly transparent too small T-shirts splattered
with candid sexual suggestions and innocent images from
popular culture of the recent past and leaving their bras at
home.
Teens loved the trend. There is nothing more empowering and
liberating than to let a boy you think is handsome to pretend
to be reading your shirt front when you know he's staring
blatantly at your nearly naked rack.
Of course, as it always is with high fashion, the thinner you
were and the bigger your boobs the more you rocked the look.
Summer's Lydia Tea was of a faded pink and three sizes too
small and consisted of an image of Droopy standing in running
shoes from the Cartoon Network and the phrase under him
saying, 'You Can Blink Now.' She had more than enough firm
round rack to rock it and even the pokies to crown it.
As far as Lydia Teas went it was rather austere and watered
down. But it was still in the vogue of the latest fashion fad
and Summer appreciated the smiling stares it got her from all
the men she passed.
And as long as she didn't break into a light jog she
shouldn't find her tits yo-yo-ing excessive bounce any threat
to her small chin. But it was difficult to not be aware of
them jostling energetically under the thin taught fabric as
she weaved through the bustling crowd of downtown.
It was also hard not to like Lydia Welles as she was so
innocent naive and sweet. But Summer still managed it. She
hated the girl both in her air headed dumb sweetness and in
her arrogant cocky self obsessed egocentric masked state as
Flag Girl, Brenda Wade's alter ego Ms. Americana sidekick.
Summer Morgan hated that it was her, the smarter the wiser
the more talented and the more beautiful, once again wearing
a fashion trend that nitwit had once again accidently
inspired. She hated that the newspapers and TV stations were
always full of Ms. Americana and Flag Girl accomplishments
and stories and sightings and controversies but no one
mentioned Green Specter (her mom's alter super heroine ego)
or Specter Girl (her own much hotter and accomplished crime
fighting ego sidekick to her mother.)
There were pros and cons to this of course but secretly
Summer seethed at both Lydia Welles highly undeserved
popularity and wealth and Flag Girl's bossy attitudes
whenever the pair met in costume.
In fact, it was the Morgan's who were snobish and snotty and
arrogant and high handed and egocentric and not so much
Brenda Wade or Lydia Welles. But as is often the case; when
one see's hints of the same in another that are much more
blatant in one's self, the one in question often blind to
this self fault finds it unbearable in another.
So it was with Summer Morgan who hated but did not really
hate who was envious but was not really envious and who found
herself flabbergasted exasperated and muttering far more
frequently than a stunning sexy nineteen year old should in a
city full of wealthy young prominent men who were thoroughly
smitten with her; for in all truth she was the more
physically beautiful of the two blonde girls.
Summer had thought taking her 'girls' out for an appreciation
stroll would improve her mood but she had already hit several
expensive boutiques and put 'starch' into the dress pants of
several hundred men and she was still pensive and broody.
The truth was what was troubling her had nothing to do with
Lydia Welles or Flag Girl, that was just the always easy
scapegoat. No, what was causing her to suck on her lower
pillow lip and bite at it with perfect small pearl white
teeth was the recent string of second story robberies.
They were most beguiling. Well guarded apartments of some of
the richest people in Delta City and thus the world were
being slipped into and robbed and slipped out of without any
signs of entry. The stolen goods were then being re-placed
into other such apartments were other items were stolen in
turn?! Whoever heard of such a thing?! A cat burglar who
stole from one person then placed that stolen property in
someone else's safe and then stole something from that person
and placed that property in someone else's safe and so on and
so on.
The thief always struck two places every night. Thus the
merchandise from the first robbery were found the next day in
the exchange of the stolen goods from the second robbery. The
next night two more robberies would take place and the
lingering stolen goods from the night before would find
themselves in the first robbed estate and their goods carried
over to the second and so forth.
It was almost childish!
Worse, thirteen robberies had been reported and only eleven
items had thus been leaped frog around. This lead to the
inevitable conclusion that some wealthy people had been
robbed and not reported their theft as they simply preferred
the new stolen goods now found in their place?!
This had the entire upper crust in a full blown snit!
Backstabbers at best they were now often openly snide of
their less than stellar opinions of one another in light of
these 'non-reported' crimes and the kept prolonged property
of others of their ilk.
This had absolutely everyone in the government and police
force up in a roar. The crimes were not so important as the
collapse of conduct amongst the most powerful people in the
world. This may seem trivial until you realize this is really
how most wars begin. Not in the halls of governments but in
the halls of the wealthy. More blood has been spilt amongst
the common classes driven to the battle fields from a spilled
wine glass than a shattered treaty in this world.
Even Interpol and various other international agencies had
sent representatives and several governments had scent
elements of their own secret services to muck about in the
inquiry.
The one thing no one wanted was the various 'spy' agencies to
become involved. And yet like dominos falling they already
had! Suddenly, Delta City the sprawling metropolis and one of
the largest cities in the world was too small by half.
What piqued Summer was the reluctance of the super heroine
community to become fully involved. She knew that officially
they had been asked not to jump into an already full pool.
But that had never stopped them before as showing up as at
least life guards at said pool.
In the shadows, all of the super heroines seemed to be at
least keeping a toe in the water. But Summer's mother had not
even been doing that. She seemed to be taking the public
decree banning super heroines from the congested case very
seriously indeed. And that seemed very odd to Summer.
But she wasn't going to take it lying down! She shuffled the
shopping bag with the red wig and see-through nightie and
sighed, "then again maybe I am!"
*************************************************************
Jordan Summer was nervous. She had left Europe and left, so
she believed, her thrill seeking second story robbery life as
well. But here she was forty stories above the night barking
traffic hanging upside down from one of the sky bridges
linking several of the downtown skyscrapers together.
A bullet train mono-rail ten stories down from her upside
down perch blasted through the man made chasm and slipped
with a rumble through both of the buildings air tram tunnels
in three heartbeats. "Americans, always in such a hurry," she
muttered to herself in a slightly French accent. Everyone who
travels through Europe and speaks a dozen languages or more
picks up a 'slightly French accent' you can thank a young lad
named Napoleon for that. He changed how thirty world
languages were pronounced for evermore.
Jordan was wearing a new twist on her old cat burglar outfit
which she had 'retired' and left in Venice at her mother's
palace.
It consisted of boots, gloves, a heavy scarf to cover her
lower face, a belt laden with pouches and gadgets, and a
hooded cloak. And nothing else. Hanging upside down the
hooded cloak was wavering below her naked body like a Peter
Pan soap to heel attached shadow. More a thing of its own
than her property right now.
Her mother had through years of practice and experimentation
found that layering yourself in black and gray cloth was not
as effect for hiding or stealth or escape as walking around
stark naked.
Jordan had found in this and many other things that her
mother was quiet right. Nothing stopped a surprised guard
dead in his tracks like the sudden apparition of a young sexy
naked girl standing before him. Nothing. And the mother and
daughter pair had tried everything.
Jordan still lacked her mother's honed skills and thus still
relied upon the hood and cape to blend into shadows when
needed. She simply couldn't walk or slip around like Selene
could in nothing but an eye mask and boots and gloves.
In fact, in her youth she had insisted upon wearing a bustier
and bikini bottoms until skill and confidence made them
obsolete.
She had been something of a late bloomer and the bustier had
taken a few years to fill out. But the bean pole had turned
into a striking beauty with a full large bust that was the
envy of an entire generation of young hungry eyed women.
As such Jordan was still a thin tall young woman with
shoulder length straight black hair with blunt bangs. Very
pale skin with slight freckles peppered across the small nose
and large piercing gray eyes. She had high cheek bones and a
small full pout mouth with full lips and a small chin
slightly coming to a point.
She reminded those of a true appreciation for beauty of Louis
Brooks the famous and infamous actress of the 1920's. And
single handily brought back the Pageboy hair cut into high
fashion. Though now she wore the 'back' far longer as she had
a perchance for pony tails or twin tails if the fancy struck
her as it had tonight.
Upside down she scanned the high rise apartment buildings all
around her which contained some of the wealthiest people in
the world. The apartments or really entire floor suites were
just one of many residences of such people but with Delta
Cities long 'understanding' police and banking institutions
and local officials it was the residence one could often find
the wealthy abiding in; at least until their lawyers could
rid them of this or that pesky warrant.
Jordan had always found it odd that the city on earth most
famous for its population of Super Heroines would also be the
most infamous for its crime? It was a sanctuary city from
almost all prosecution. A vast loophole for the wealthy in
times of trouble or scandal. It was the world's largest white
slaver market for teenage sex dolls. And yet, all the super
heroines seemed to deal with were petty thieves and a handful
of named villains. You never read or heard of them taking
down one of the wealthy or any of the corrupt politicians or
any of the major industry barons or really anyone who
contributed to crime on the world or even national stage?!
Like many people, Jordan Summers had come to the inescapable
conclusion that all those so called super heroines were
little more than 'distractions' to keep the general locals
and busy public from seeing the larger evils lurking upon
their shores.
When it came to fighting really serious crime that really
hurt millions of people every day; the super heroines were
all no-shows. There were many who believed they were all
staged and didn't even have 'real' super powers.
Being an awakened Aphrodite gene woman herself, Jordan didn't
doubt the powers of those of higher levels of the gene's
abilities but she did wonder at the pointless use of it on
street thugs and a few low end plodders robbing banks or
kidnapping a few girls while all around them in their city
countless crimes that impacted upon millions world wide were
committed by the upper one percent and went unpunished.
As one of the upper one percent the super model teen was not
going to argue against the super heroines lack of focus of
effect and in fact she had been partially drawn to the city
of crime and crime fighters as it so utterly catered and
kowtowed to her class; but still she did feel a touch of
shame and pity that so many brazen women had put on flashy
costumes and pranced about in the streets slinging slogans
out of the 1940's nationalism while posing for photo-ops with
a purse snatcher under her booted heel and toe and all the
while in the crowds around her limos honked and bumper bumped
their way from one metaphoric killing to the next.
Either they were unwitting or unwilling to tackle the true
ogres that feasted upon the masses and kept them shackled in
misery and poverty. In fact, they seemed to gladly shake
their hands and protect them from the lower parasites of the
criminal food chain with smiles and winks and nods.
Jordan couldn't care less. Her only reason for thoughts upon
the matter now steamed entirely from her about to slip into a
wealthy apartment and the chance a super heroine might show
up to stop or apprehend her coitus interruptus.
The apartment belonged to a man named Chad Hemmings. It was a
very nice suite but not a penthouse. He had a penthouse in
the city. In fact, he had two. But this corner apartment with
a lovely view of Poet's Park and all its statues of world
famous poets was where he kept his mistress. And she in turn
kept her jewels and they in turn were much, much nicer and
more expensive jewels than anything he had ever bought any of
his wives.
One of his wives was a neighbor of hers at the Wade Towers;
her alimony much have been painfully excessive for she kept
her self in the most gaudy of fashions and only a truly
bottomless expense account can afford to do that on a daily
biases.
The nearly naked teen dropped onto the apartment terrace with
a lithe full pike in air summersault twisting half gainer in
the three story fall; her boot heels making only the
slightest metallic 'clink' as she landed upon the thin metal
railing. She walked along the railing while peering into the
glass doors and full ceiling to wall windows of the apartment
before gingerly dropping down upon the marble tiled patio.
The curtains inside the apartment were heavy and drawn closed
so all she could see was the full moon lit refection of her
self in the glass. There was a light wind bounding off the
side of the apartment building and it pushed open her hooded
cloak revealing her naked slender young busty body. Pale as
the moonlight its self her reflection was nothing but the
white of her limbs and the heavy black of her thigh high
stiletto heeled boots and her thick heavy loose gauntlet
gloves which she wore turned down at the mid upper arms
folding back the edge almost to her wrists and the black of
her hood and eye mask and the deep purple of her scarf which
she now pulled up over the tip of her nose as she was
expecting company even though there was no signs of anyone
being home.
The purple scarf was legendary in Europe. Her mother had worn
a crimson one and that was of course even more famous. In the
United States and parts of Great Briton and France the term
is 'cat-burglar' for any stealth based thief who sneaks in
and out without rasing a disturbance and often without any
show of violence. But for most of Europe the term is any of a
dozen terms that refer not to a cat but to a bird. The bird
is usually black and a thief such as the magpie or a night
bird such as owls. As such the various newspapers had dubbed
Selene and Jordan, the Night Birds, as their crimes became
more and more legendary.
With that life behind her and a three thousand salt water
moat between her and it; Jordan had not made any attempt to
rechristen herself and if any thing still thought of herself
as her mother's sidekick the Night Bird in the purple scarf.
The lock on the glass sliding door was easily bypassed as
well as the alarms for there was another inside who had
slipped in just minutes before her and it was this other who
the Night Bird wished to settle an old score.
*************************************************************
"Esme! I knew it had to be you behind all these bizarre
thefts!" Night Bird growled at the tall willowy blonde who
was wearing nothing more than a black bra and a black thong
and black stockings and garter belt and black high heeled
shoes and black wrist gloves and a black mask and a black
smile.
Esme turned in the hand light that Night Bird kept stuck in
the top of her thigh high boot. She grinned. "Ah, Night Bird,
I thought with the arrival of our lovely youth-quaker Jordan
Summers into Delta City it would only be a mater of time
before you made your appearance as well."
"I simply want to know 'why' you are duplicating the Night
Bird's Modus Operandi here in the states?" Night Bird husked
her voice out of habit.
"Well, one; I thought we should chat and two-" Esme was cut
off as the apartment's hallway door burst open and in rolled
Specter Girl.
Specter Girl rolled up to her feet and with a flash light
held in one hand like a knife and her other raised in an open
palm ready to strike she started snarling, "so there's two of
you!? Well, I, Specter Girl, have caught both of you- ah,
where the freak are you're clothes?!"
Specter Girl was not going to blow this! She had spent almost
an entire week having non-stop sex with the most perverted
douche she had ever met, Chad Hemmings. She had worn a red
wig and called herself Alice Bankroll and flirted up a storm
with the fat balding fifty something year old man. He had
taken the bait and after a solid week of some of the most
debauched and perverted sex she had ever been forced to
experience she had been made his 'new' mistress and set up as
the perfect bait for the cat burglar plaguing the city!
And what perverted sex it had been too! Ridding crops and sex
saddles and ball gags and penis cuffs and more bondage gear
than even her mother owned?! So, no way in hell was she going
to blow this!
As soon as she had heard the two women talking she had
slipped out of her bed (she had spent the last three nights
after being declared Chad Hemming's mistress sleeping in
costume) and out the bed room window and along the narrow
ledge and back in through the hallway window and then through
the hallway door back into the apartment!
She could have of course just kicked open the bed room door
as her whole persona in being there was as an untraceable
dead end fake, but the thing is with super heroines if they
need ice for a drink and there is no servant around they
don't open a freezer and pull out an ice cube tray or even
head down to the local Mart and buy a bag of ice, nope, they
hop a jet to the Antarctic.
Which may go a long way in explaining why they never tend to
host non-catered parties or catch the real bad guys.
"Now!" Hissed Specter Girl, "pleasepleasepleaseplease! Don't
try and come quietly, because I really need to blow off steam
of a really bad day that has been going on for over a week
now!"
Esme bored reached over and sprayed a mist from a small
cylinder into the teen sidekicks face and Specter Girl took a
face plant upon the ridiculously expensive rug.
Esme and Night Bird looked down at the unconscious girl and
then Esme sprayed the same mist into her mouth and slipped
the small cylinder into her wrist glove. "I hate rude people.
Now. Where was I? Oh yes, I was about to offer you an
invitation to join me and Uncle Sam in the glamorous world of
clandestine meetings in pay toilets and espionage."
"Pass," Night Bird sneered invisibly under her scarf.
"Smart girl. I knew you would say that but Uncle was adamant
that I make the offer," Esme gave a wink and purred. She
literally purred. A soft clicking rapid rolling of the
tongue. If you have never had a young girl purr in your ear
before you have been going to the wrong strip clubs and your
money has been wasted.
"So that is what all this has been about?!" Night Bird was
losing her calm. "Pulling all these silly heists to get me to
come out and see you?"
"Don't be daft. If I wanted to see you so badly I would have
just slipped into YOUR apartment in Wade Towers. Perhaps
wearing a little less?" Esme rapidly raised her eyebrows and
smirked. "No, this is yet another dreary mission for Uncle.
He wants some fabricated emergency in the world to draw
attention from his dismal lack of ability in the White House.
Raise world attentions by raising world tensions away from
his front doorstep."
"That's sick!" Night Bird spit out the words which lost some
of their vile indictment by the muffled nature of her scarf.
"I completely agree. You see the whole point of the
Presidency is to draw attention AWAY from the non-elected
powers that be. So when the President decides he wants a
little less of the circus spot light and shuffles off his
'duty' and decides to do so by rippling descent through the
other world powers. WELL! You can imagine how displeased my
own bosses are! Still, you have to throw a dog a bone now and
then or he stops doing his tricks and this current jackass of
a President has proven to be the ultimate in a long line of
weapons of mass distraction. So?" Esme smiled and shrugged
and began ransacking the wall safe she had already opened
before Night Bird had entered the apartment.
Night Bird sighed and then after a few moments of confusion
slipped out the open glass patio door and leaped over the
balconies railing.
*************************************************************
"Well," Axanna Morgan smiled as her daughter came in through
the door to their penthouse suite and dropped her bags and
gave her a peck on the offered cheek. "So, how was your stay
at Abigail's did you two study hard or hardly study?"
"Oh, we managed to do both to excessive measures," Summer
sighed and plopped down at the breakfast table next to her
mother.
"My! What a look! You would think the whole world upped and
fell upon your shoulders," Axanna murmured and smiled into
her newspaper.
"Oh the best laid plans and all of that," Summer pouted and
then stretched and yawned.
"You would think the mistress of Chad Hemmings would be
anything but bored. I hear he's very kinky in the sack,"
Axanna bit into her jelly covered toast.
Summer froze in mid stretch and sigh and could not seem to
get her back to unlock. "Wha-ah I?!"
Axanna snorted a snigle and then tilted her chin as she still
remained absorbed in her newspaper, "apparently the red wig
did not fool the gossip columns in the slightest."
Summer rolled her eyes and collapsed sinking into her chair
until her eyes were level with the table top. She could only
manage a long drawn out moan.
"Oh, by the way, we have a commitment to the Stadler's
tonight and that would be for the celebration of Ms.
Hemming's birthday. It's usually a boring affair but I think
this year it may prove very lively indeed."
There was another groan from Summer who by now was fully
under the table. "I'm sick."
"The hell you are. You have fucked in her bed and now you
have to make it too," Axanna shot the top of her daughter's
head a cold look before she snickered into the back of her
hand again. "The next time our illustrious members of
government tell us not to get involved with something I
suggest you find out 'why' before you just leap in fully
committed to being contrarian."
"It seemed like such a good plan," Summer mumbled from under
the table almost crying.
"If it makes you feel any better I hear that both Flag Girl
and Ms. Americana willingly got themselves caught by white
slavers in chasing down 'their' good plan. So, buck up my
little home-wrecker slut.
After, being thoroughly humiliated and TAKING it by all the
women tonight at the birthday party. I will let you join me
in tracking down the missing red, white, and blue duo and
rescuing them. I dono, but something about seeing those two
all bound and knocked up and covered in cum just brightens me
up from even my foulest moods."
"Seriously, home-wreaking slut?" Summer peaked just her head
up to her eyes over the edge of the table and sadly murmured.
"I hear she is demanding a divorce," Axanna sipped her coffee
which was mostly milk and cream and with just a hint of
coffee added. "Best thing for her. That man was a wretched
pervert and couldn't keep it in his pants if his life
depended upon it."
"Ohhhhhh," Summer moaned and slowly began to softly beat her
forehead rhythmically against the lip of the table.
"Darling, if you're going to do that, either do it much,
much, much, harder or do it some where else. You are spilling
mommy's coffee."
************************************************************
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