Crazy Life Choices

Half Moon Bay Weyr - Lagoon
A sandy beach running along the edge of the lagoon, between the sparkling waters and the bowl. Given the weyr's tropical climate, riders and dragons can be seen playing in the water nearby or a dolphin can be seen cavorting nearly turn-round. At other times seacraft can be seen coming in under the arch to dock. The lagoon is large enough to fill a quarter of the length of the bowl.

Irkevalath is settled in the shallows of the lagoon while Sundari is busy working on srubbing down that blue's hide. She has on a shirt and pair of shorts, hair pulled back while she is sitting on the blue's side scrubbing away against his hide. "How do you manage to get so dirty? Honestly… The kids don't get a dirt and muck covered as you do." There is a moment whre she scrubs a bit softer it would seem across a series of rather thick looking scars at the blue's side. Irk just rumbles out faintly at this, a lash of his tail sending some water crashing into shore a bit quicker, the blue actually has a rather large collection of scars, ranging in size and shapes his been thrugh a bit though seeing who his rider is this is't such a surprize as Sunny has her own collection just normally out of sight. It is late afternoon, the sun is getting closer to setting, an even though it is winter the place is still warm andthere ould be some people off swimming even.

Is anybody surprised that Citayzleat has books? Anybody? Nobody? Well, fine. One under each arm, healer kit removed in favor of loose skirts and a sleeveless shirt. Why not take advantage of the warm winter! Cita looks pretty content, picking her way along the sand towards what might be a good spot for sitting. Why is anybody's guess, but the healer takes particular pains in picking her spot. She doesn't even glance up until she's sitting cross-legged in the sand, and even then the proximity of a dragon and rider out in the water isn't exactly surprising. Cita does lift a hand, waving towards Sundari and her dragon, smiling. "Afternoon, rider!" She calls, opening her book on her lap and wiggling her toes down into the warm sand.

D'nyl is on the other side of the blue, doing his part to help. Czaiath is settled on the beach, his hide glistening with fresh oil. HE didn't need a surgical scrubbing even after uprooting a tree earlier. The blue blunder, on the other hand… D'nyl is currently scrubbing right up under his wing, "Sunny, I think there's a wherry nest up in here." His tone makes it a joke, but with Irk, you never know. D'nyl's torso is all that's visible above the water, but the scars there are in proportion to the blue's. The most curious is on his chest, but it's faded enough now that one would need to get close to read the word carved there. His head comes up when Cita greets them, managing a nod before going back to prising mud out from the folds of Irk's wings.
The scary part is that he's gotten used to it.

Heryn is jogging!, and really, that isn't as much of a revelation as one would think. One doesn't get as bulky as he is without exercise, but considering the totally random time of day he's doing it in, well… chances are good it's part his own regime instead of any sort of candidate fitness plan. This is further enforced when a familiar dragons, riders, and Healer are espied, for instead of keeping on track, the bartender changes course towards the water. "Hey, guys," he pants as he comes to a stop, chest heaving hard enough to indicate he's been at it a while. He's also pretty sweaty. Gross. "Lovely afternoon. What'cha reading now?," is asked of Citayzleat, predictably unsurprised by her collection of books. Blue-grey eyes flick to the riders next or, perhaps more interestingly, the muck-covered Irkevalath. "Shells. What happened?" He's kinda impressed.

Sundari glances up as she is moving to work on another sot of muck and mud covreed blue, which is slwly but surely working on getting him back to that blue color. She catches sight of Citayzleat and offers a smile and wave back over. "Hey there." Hearing D'nyl she makes a slight face. "Don't joke over it… I Found a tunnelsnake under his wing one time. He was 'saving' it for later." Irk snorts while shifting about a bit and his tail curls in the water which sends ripples and litle waves towards shore once more. Sunny shakes her head a bit while picking up the bucket of water she has and is moving dump it into the pool before sliding down one of the blue's frontlegs in order to get more water to scrubbing. "You don't want to know." Is finally offered back to Heryn with an amused tone while lettng the brush drop into the bucket and grins over to th bartender. "So… Your my new victim I hear?" She didn't do any lessons with the dear canadates today so hasn't had a chance to 'poke' at them so to speak.

Heryn gets a sharply assessing look from Cita, taking in the general state of the bartender- turned- candidate. He's out of breath, but evidently the healer deems it acceptable, as she glances back out towards the scarred mucky blue with an amused tilt of her head. "A tunnelsnake." If D'nyl could see Cita's face, he'd probably catch the 'that's you I'm gonna assume' twitch of an eyebrow. Well, in fairness, the guy did come wandering out of the bushes with dead 'snakes in their only meeting prior. Maybe it's, like, osmosis or something. The dragon — who really is blue, look! — gets the quirk of a grin from Cita, before she's waving the current book at Heryn. "Trauma surgeon's log. It's interesting." She's reading it for *fun*. "Victim!" Cita laughs. "That sounds promising."

D'nyl arches his brow at Heryn, then gives his head a shake, "At least there's one what won' give us issues about havin' to run bowl laps." He scrape-scrubs another handful of frothy mud off the blue and tosses it out into the lake, "How did we ever manage ta keep him from getting an infection?" He completely misses Cita's look, which is probably for the best, really. Instead, muttering something about creepy healers and ducking back under the blue's wing with obvious effort. Once there, he pauses, peering out at Heryn with a dangerous smile, "Would you like your first lesson in dragon care, Candidate Heryn?"

Heryn snorts and snorts hard for the tunnelsnake anecdote, head shaking up at the blue in question. "Why does that not surprise me," he drawls, hands perching on his hips as he finally seems to catch his breath. "That bad, huh? I really did think you were exaggerating when you said he had a penchance for getting himself into trouble…" Apparently not! The bartender flicks Cita an amused look. "I'm sure it is. Any particularly juicy bits? And hey, don't encourage them! They do not need encouragement," is said of Sunny and D'nyl, though he shoots the both of them a grin to temper the sass. "I am, I'm afraid. Does that mean I get to call you 'ma'am' and 'sir'?," Heryn asks because he's a cheeky bastard, though there's a roll of a shoulder and a nod for D'nyl's request. "Yessir." Well, he might not be problematic when it comes to running, but when it comes to running his mouth

Sundari chuckles softly while brushing her hands off an glances to Irk while looking a bit amused and soon smiles. "He has his moments but he is worth it." Is offered softly, between Irk and D'nyl the blue has kept her mostly sane the last few turns. "Honestly I don't know. There was a time where he was banged up an n the infirmary for nearly a sevenday after getting attacked by some stinging fish in the sea… Then there was the time he attempted to take on a buck herdbeast and nearly cracked his skull in two." This most likely isn't helping her case right? She'll look back to Heryn and grins. "Aye, that is the ticket… His ma'am and I'm sir." Her tone joking though. She lets her arm fold losely before her while letting D'yl explain to the dear bartender what he just signed himself up for!

Cita may or may not be perfectly content to be the creepy healer; either way, she seems resolved to *not* flinch like D'nyl might chuck more tunnelsnake heads at her. Instead, she's delighted, book mostly forgotton as she curls her knees up and props her elbows on them to watch. Tormenting Heryn with dragon-things? Well, that's a worthy cause for skimping on her light reading. "Are you sure they don't?" She teases, grinning lopsidedly. "Because I *could*." Betrayal! The dragon's accident-prone nature does distract from winding up poor Heryn. "Shells," The healer eyes Irk for a moment, like he might accidentally brain himself on his own wing. Or possibly D'nyl. "He's got a talent, doesn't he?"

D'nyl lifts a hand, motioning for Heryn to come closer, "Grab a brush and some soapsand, you can scrub his tail. That's less… disturbing to start." The next handful of mud gets flicked at Sunny, "Just D'nyl is fine for now. If you impress, we'll talk about etiquette." From the disgusted look on his face, that means that *Sunny* will talk about etiquette. He ducks back under the wing, finally having removed enough of the mud to actually scrub the hide beneath the wing, "Irk's got something alright." Czaiath rumbles his agreement with the healer's assessment, though. Imagine what it's like for him, having to share a weyr with the blue blunder.

No, Sunny isn't helping her case at all, but Heryn is duly impressed nonetheless. "Shells," the candidate says with a chuckle, shoving his hair out of his face so he can peer up at the blue. "Well, one thing's for sure, you keep their lives interesting." Annnd there's a definite 'thhbt' of a raspberry pointed back at Cita for her teasing. "Don't even start, you! I've got plenty of dirt if you wanna go tit for tat," he jests, flicking her a wide grin before he stoops to pick up a brush at D'nyl's direction. "Or have we forgotten the two hours of splinting practice the other day? I'm sure Telj would love to hear you're practicing on randos now." He's totally just teasing, though, as he follows the bronzerider back towards Irk's tail, laughing heartily for Sundari's joke as he goes. "Sir, yes sir," he chirps towards her with a jaunty salute, but nods for D'nyl's statement, accepting it before setting in to scrub mud away with his brush.

Irkevalath opens a ee and looks over to Heryn slightly with a soft rumble escaping him. « This one is smarter then the others. » He offers with an amused like thought over to his dear bronze friend. The blue's tail is a bit dirt covered, but with it being in the water some has come off at least, a rather ragged scar rest about the center of his tail as if something was wrapped around it at one point. Sundari squeaks out faintly at the attacking mud and is soon laughing. "Sure sure… I'll have to teach 'em which fork and spoon to use.. An then when salute I can't wait for it." Not really she would rather not deal with that thank you. She flicks that mud off while she picks up the bucket she had filled with water and moves on to work on cleaning across the blue's head and neck. The blue blunder lets his wing flex and stretch out halfway over D'nyl casting him in a shadow, and making him have to crouch there somewhat, isn't he helpful?

Cita grins for Czaith's rumble, try as her lips might to press together. "Yeah?" She questions rhetorically, huffing out a short laugh and observing the scrubbing process curiously. "How often does scrubbing *usually* need to be done?" The healer wonders, not really directed, before she's turning a 'pffft' towards Heryn. "Just yesterday, Journeyman Telj got glittery ink in his eye, and had to take the rest of the day. He can't even keep himself together." Cita grins a Cheshire grin, rolling her eyes dramatically. Threats, threats. She ain't scared. "At least I hadn't actually *broken* it first." Right? Right. Because that would have been much worse. The thought of etiquette-learning gets a horribly dramatic wince, then, and a head-shake from Cita. "Never mind. You've got it bad enough. Shells."

D'nyl just reaches up and thumps Irk on the wing, "Give me space, or I'll leave mud between your toes." The itchiest mud of all the muds. "Sunny, you'll have teach them how to ~dance~. Faranth knows I still have two left hooves." He shifts, pulling himself out towards the blue's wingtip and glances at Cita, "When they're young? Several times a day. Once they have their full growth, once every few days unless they get into a situation." The bronze wuffles his agreement, though he does get extra baths because if Irk, too, and he's not objecting. Inexplicaly, the bronze is inching closer to the healer until his head peeks over her shoulder to examine her book.

Hooboy, don't ever let that get back to Heryn! His ego's big enough without draconic praise coming into the mix. As it is, the bartender sighs a long sigh for Cita's story about Telj, head shaking from side to side. "Those sparkly little things have caused more trouble than good," he rumbles with a laugh that's just a little strained, likely harkening back to recent memories of a certain bronzerider and his not-so-shiny-anymore jacket. There is a squint and an agreeing, "True," for the fact that the Healer hadn't broken anything on his person, though his grin is decidedly impish as he adds, "One injury at your hands is likely enough, though." Heryn, too, winces for the thought of serious etiquette lessons, gaze flicking between D'nyl and Sunny. "Wait, seriously? The saluting I get, but spoons? Who gives a flying fardle what kind of spoon someone uses?" He continues his scrubbing, not quite to the point of noticing the scar around Irk's tail, but it's really only a matter of time. For now, he snorts and says, "At least they're smaller at that point. Ever had a weyrling that didn't like water?" Because that would make things interesting…

Sundari rolls her eyesa bit an soon is splashing a bit of water towards Irk to get off a bit more mud and the like in one spot. Irk rumbles out softly and his tail, well it wiggles and curls about Henryn's leg just a moment there. "I don't think so… Why do you not like the water Heryn?" The threat from D'nyl is heard and the blue croons a bit. « Everyone is a bit touchy today… »

"That makes sense. Littles of all sorts need more bathing. They get into everything." Littles and, mayhaps, Irkevalath? And as for the dancing bit, the healer's snicker is not all that charitable; ha-ha-ha, look what you have to do, Heryn. Being crept up on by the other dragon is not subtle — Cita cranes her head back a little to smile for Czaith, raising both eyebrows and the the book. Up for examination: a detailed written account and quick sketch of a replantation. The Apprentice makes a half-sympathetic, half-amused face for the Heryn's strained laughter, but she doesn't respond until it's time to stick her nose up in the air and pretend she's definitely not at fault. "We'll see about that." Ominous? Or teasing? Cita has a pretty good deadpan, and a book full of *deeply* gross pictures. At least she looks amused for the watery antics, watching the little group with a faint smirk.

D'nyl flicks the tip of Irk's wing, "Be nice, jerk." He keeps scrubbing the wingsail, but he's watching the blue like a wherry now, even as he answers Heryn's other question, "Blah blah blah formal dinners blah blah blah. It's all about representin' the Weyr at formal occasions." Which, presumably, he has never done, considering his demeanor. Czaiath shakes his head in that twisting way canines use to shake off water, then drops his jaw in a grin when Cita looks back at him. NOTHING TO SEE HERE. MOVE ALONG. As soon as he's given the opportunity, his head darts forward and snags the book, trying to take it from her and run away.

Heryn near about jumps out of his skin when Irkevalath's tail curls around one of his legs, clearly having not expected that. "Shells, you scared me," the bartender laughs, giving the blue's tail a playful pat. It's then that he spies that circular scarring, making sure to run the brush over it carefully. "Yikes, buddy, looks like that hurt." It distracts him for sure, but after a moment he shakes his head over at Sundari with a crooked grin. "Me? Nah. I love water, spent a lot of time on ships when I was younger. I just know there're folks that're less fond of it in a sort of 'if I look at water too hard it might drown me!' sort of way, and wondered if you'd ever had to deal with that." There's a snarky little lip curl shot Citayzleat's way for her snickering, but really, Heryn takes that ominous threat seriously and looks a little concerned. She does, after all, read about decapitations for funzies… the knowledge of which makes him laugh all the harder when Czaiath attempts to make off with one of said gruesome books. "Run, man, run!," he crows, cheering the bronze on with a pump of his fist, entirely too amused.

"Oh yes.. Dancing, and the blahblahblah parties, all very improtant." Sundari says while chuckling a bit. "It'll just become second nature if you impress. I even manage to drag D'nyl out now and then in his fancy leathers, which I won't lie his ather cute in." Yep she went there. As for Irkevalath, the blue seems to have had enough of the scrubbing, and is slowly moving upwards, his tail half curling more against Heryn's legs and when the dear bartender is chanting for Czaiath to run the blue attempts to sweep the man's legs out from under him so he'll go splashing into the shallows of the lagoon that as been lapping at the three. His wings open and there is a might shake which sends muddy bits flying. As for the comment n the scar he only rumbles while turning to move out into the water. Sundari blinks as she is driping wet and covered in a bit of mud and sand now. "Damn blue…" Yes there are a few other things said as well and Irk only bugles with amusement.

Cita gapes for a full ten seconds, head cranked around backwards and staring now at empty air. Dragon. Book. It's enough to give the dragon a head start, before her brains kick in. "HEY!" The healer is on her feet in a surprisingly graceful move — book rage can drive a woman to perform feats of. Well. Maybe she's just lucky she doesn't do a header into the sand as she goes pelting off after Czaith. She definitely did notice the dunking poor Heryn got, though, and maybe laughs just a little. "Don't you drown him!" The healer yells over her shoulder, but she's busy trying to gain an advantage on the dragon, and…what, stop him like you might a runner, arms wide? Yeah, that's exactly what she does. "Where d'ya think you're going with Master Rota's book! He'll have my *entire* hide!" The healer laughs, backing up wildly as she waves her hands. This can only end well.

D'nyl turns, barely aware of Irk's escape as he watches his bronze taunts the healer. "Yer jus' glad I let you pick that set out." They're not so much super-fancy as less-destroyed than most of his other sets. In this case, though, D'nyl just crouches into the water, washing the soap suds off his hands, knowing Irk will be back later, when things start to itch. Now that the blue wall is gone, Heryn may be close enough to discern that the scars on D'nyl's chest are a complex symbol with the word 'TRAITOR' carved above it, though fresher scars of feline claws obscure parts of the symbol now. Czaiath, for his part, stops and uses his massive neck to toss the book further up the beach, well above the waterline, then turns to starts nudging D'nyl's bags around. Because the bronze can totally operate their innards.

It's late afternoon, and the scene on the beach is… eclectic, to put it tactfully. Czaiath's just made off with Citayzleat's book, the Healer running after the dragon arms spread, and Irkevalath has just shaken sand and mud all over Sundari before succesfully using his tail to sweep Heryn's feet out from under him, sending six feet of bartender-turned-candidate into the water with a garbled, "Heyyoofblub!" Well, it's a good thing Heryn does like water, isn't it? The man surfaces quickly with a sputtering laugh, hair in his face and sandy clothes clinging to his person. "Shards…," he mutters, fingers combing his hair back, though it has lost all semblance of order, "What was that for?" His hands move to wring out his shirt, the man grasping for their earlier conversation through wry laughter. "I hope you don't get dunked when you're in said fancy leathers…" There's an snickering glance for D'nyl, but indeed the man is close enough to make out those scars this time; amusement fades quickly as the word is read, blue-grey gaze flicking from the scarring to D'nyl's face and back, Czaiath's antics more or less drowned out by a mix of caution and concern that reads across the candidate's face. It's not his place to ask, and so he doesn't, but if his gaze lingers a moment before tearing away to where that book is fluttering to the sand, well…

Sundari shakes her head and is soon chuckling before offering a hand to Heryn to help him up after the dunking by her dear blue. "His… an ass that's why." She offers with an amused tone. "Hey… What can I say? You look good in them." This said while she winks over to D'nyl an a grin is seen for certain. She'll glance after Czaiath and shakes her head a bit. "Don't you dare blame this on Irkevalath, he doesn't steal books." Yet… She actually does feel a bit bad for Cita, but at least the book should be in one piece, just covered in sand maybe? As for the dear fallen bartender she glances back to him in time to catch his gaze lingerng upon D'nyl's scar and she is quiet before picking up brushes and buckets not wanting to pull more attention to the moment.

What sort of thing is this for a newcomer to the weyr to stumble into? Doktah makes her way down to the beach clad in a sleeveless grey tunic and shorts, idly trying to clean her glasses. When she puts them back on and spots the group with the brushes, buckets, and mayhem down by the water. She blinks, removes her glasses, then attempts to clean them again before putting them on and blinking again. "… Huh." She says, simply.

Cita is highly amused by draconic antics, for all that she's also slightly terrified that the healer to whom the book belongs will actually rid her of her hide. Following after the bronze is a fun diversion from comforting poor sandy Heryn, and also amusing — if the startled laughter is anything to go by. "Really!" She yells, snorting an entirely unattractive laugh as she throws up her hands ones last time, points in a 'got my eyes on you' kind of way at the dragon, and darts for the book. Retrieving it is easy enough, and the book leafed through with some real hope. Finally: "Safe! Oh, hey." And there's another to witness the beach tableau. Nice.

D'nyl looks down at Heryn's sudden attention, then meets the boy's eyes with an arched brow, "We all have a past, aye?" He's given up hiding it after all these Turns, but that doesn't mean he's going to talk about it. He stoops, snagging his bucket of supplies and bringing it back to shore before giving his head a shake, making his hair twist and spray spots of water all around him. He casts a hazard glance back at the blue when that summoning of Murphy occurs, then turns back to watch the tableau. Once Czaiath seems to think he's molested D'nyl's baggage enough, he lumbers over to Cita, and drops his jaw again, but this time, something drops from it. A small white package drops, bouncing off her head and then landing in the sand: the crisp white knot of a candidate. Then he steps back, still grinning at her. Apparently, he won't even give D'nyl the honor of making the formal offer anymore.

"I suppose that's a good enough reason," Heryn drawls right back at Sundari, lips quirked into a sideways smile as he eventually sighs and gives up on wringing out his clothes. He'll just… drip his way up onto the beach for now. "Luckily, he's a charming ass," is added with a wink before his expression sobers again, giving D'nyl a nod of acknowledgement. "We do," is agreed upon, and the conversation otherwise let go, the bartender trudging up through the sand towards quite the bewildered-looking Doktah. "Good evening," Heryn greets before realizing what abject chaos this must look like. "We're… Erm… Well we were bathing a dragon, but… Well, it seems to have gone awry." Some of it more than others!, for his gaze eventually catches back on Czaiath and that little white package being dropped on her head. The bartender all but cackles, head tilting to one side with an amused, "Well, at least I won't be alone in my suffering." Ha! Take that for all of your earlier smarm, Cita!

"… Evening." Doktah replies to Heryn after a moment's consideration of the scene before her. "… I'd heard about the beaches of Half Moon Bay, but… the words don't do them justice." A diplomatic way to describe things. "… So, what exactly is going on here?" She asks, trying not to sound too bewildered. Though she still looks it.

Sundari chuckles softly as she catches sght of a certain bronze and lifts her head a bit. "I think his stolen your job dear." This offered to D'nyl while she pauses next to him, buckets in hand. She glances over to Heryn and is grinning. "So, later I'll show you how to oil a dragon. Fun stuff I promise! I'll be holding lessons tomorrow so you have to deal with me more then you like." She is teasing mostly. As for D'nyl? There is a pause and she'll reach up to give him a kiss to the lips and is soon moving off. "I'm going to the hot springs. I'll see you all later I'm certain." This said to the others safe for D'nyl it seems. As for the newcommer she offers Doktah a smile and nod. "Hi, just watch the blue dragon his different…" That is putting it lightly!

Cita may or may not be charmed by a grinning dragon. Come on, who can blame her really? Czaith's lumbering and dropped-jaw grin is *almost* enough to keep the indignation off of her face when something small and soft goes bouncing off of her head. Played-up rage isn't her strong suit, but she makes an attempt, flipping her hair out of her face with a puff of air and squinting up at the dragon dramatically. "Alright, yo —" And then she catches sight of the actual projectile, and her eyes widen. "What!" A short, startled bark of laughter. But the dragon is still grinning, and slowly, Cita is too, eyebrows rising up into her hair. "No take-backs." She challenges, snatching the knot and gripping it like she might actually fight a dragon for it, whether she's thought the whole scenario through or not. And no, she doesn't need to look back at Heryn to *feel* the smugness. "Wherry-face." Mutter-snort. It's easy to feel. Also, there's the cackling. "Welcome to Half Moon Bay!" Cheeky, Cita winks Doktah-wards, then reluctantly side-eyes the riders, while still not turning her back on Czaith. Fool her once! Plus, he's still grinning, and come on.

D'nyl shimmies into his shorts and nods at Citayzleat, "Well, then. Let's get you settled." He nods to the new girl, trusting in Heryn to not make a total fool of them all, then glances back at the new candidate, hopefully leading her towards the barracks since I need to go to bed, "The rules are pretty simple. no sex, no fighting, one glass of booze a day. Keep the barracks clean and show up for yoru chores and lessons on time. As a crafter, you'll be able to spend some of each day continuing study in your craft…" He trails off into the distance, still going over the way things work.

Sundari's promise of future lessons earns a grin from Heryn, excitement tempered only by humor. "I look forwards to it, and thank you for the warning. I can only imagine we'll be practicing on Irkevalath, and… well, I won't wear anything I want to keep clean after," he says with a chuckle, making a note in his mind to tell Cita to do the same - she looks rather busy at the moment, even if the Healer does have time to insult him. Cue a mature sticking out of his tongue. "Aren't they just lovely?," Heryn drawls towards Doktah, eyes lit up with mischief, perhaps reading her tone. "Well, that was Sundari," is said of the retreating bluerider, "and that's D'nyl, our Weyrlingmaster and Assistant, respectively, and that paragon of Healing is Citayzleat." The respective parties are indicated. "And I'm Heryn, and I'm soaking wet and miserable and in need of a bath, but perhaps I'll catch you around, yeah?" And off he goes with the rest of them!, leaving the beach much more idyllic in their wake, for sure.

Cita, who also happens to be a paragon of maturity, sticks her tongue out at Heryn just as soon as Sundari is off and D'nyl isn't looking. "Nice to meet you!" The Apprentice-gone-Candidate calls over her shoulder, picking up her second book and following along on the rider's heels. She listens, thankfully, without comment or interruption as they set off towards the barracks. At least she has enough sense for that, for all that she looks like she's slowly understanding that hey — she definitely just made a life-changing choice without. You know. Thinking. "Yes, sir." Dutifully, in a pause, Cita responds; and if she glances longingly over her shoulder at the beach, well. It's just a nice afternoon, right? A nice afternoon to make crazy life choices!

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