futuresking

[futuresking]

activity check.

“ this strength serves more than me alone.” 

Total Skill Points: 14. Sword:  C+ > B Weapon: Silver Sword.

[futuresking]

Mary Oliver, from Dogfish in “Dream Work”

[futuresking]

“Hey Lucina.” Priam waved to her, approaching her with the familiarity of a peer. “It’s your birthday, right? Here.” He handed her a new whetstone. “You’re quite dedicated to your blade. I sense something of a kindred spirit in us- but we aren’t quite the same. That’s good! We grow into more than just our strengths, into something all our own!” He grinned. “If you ever want a sparring partner, I’m ready. Anytime.”

✴ —— the warm gesture was not remiss. she much appreciated others nearing her not as a distant figure, like some blinding star nor unreachable royal, but a human being. that priam's vivacious energy had not dulled since she recalled him, even if events very well could be different for him, gave her no small measure of joy. familiar faces from her beloved ylisse, a beloved world, that was only one small portion of a taste of the universe she had held in her hands whilst traveling through the outrealm gate; the steadfast stars, the bright moon.. the steadfast sun. the pole star which one of her names imbued.

a gentle chuckle from the exalt turned student; smiling fondly and with a warrior's appreciation for the item, knowing full well what it meant. "i don't think anyone quite is, priam. but if you feel we are kindred in anyway with your passion for life, then i consider myself fortunate!" her smile is warm as she extends her hand; more familiar with kisses of fealty or terrified fingers squeezing hers than the remembrance of familial touches and simpler times. but now, now was a time to change such things.

" i'll be certain to polish my blade with the respect it is due should it grow weary. but in return, priam, may i hold you to your word? " no seriousness, just the same steadfastness of that bright star her father had added to her name, that had molded to her spirit, her symbolization. " i expect you to hold nothing back and every technique you have to offer. while i would wish you to be at ease without raising your own blade . . . harmless training in peace you may always find with me."

awaiting his returned hand in friendship, her eyes crinkle brightly, a ghost of a bright smile upon her lips. "thank you for a splendid gift, and for brightening it with your presence, priam. i must admit i am quite glad to see you again. let us make a time of it. "

[futuresking]

princess for a day

continued from here ! 

✴ —— my princess. how long had she heard those words? how long had she in title actually been one? it made sense in days gone by with flowers for mother and early calloused palms for father’s training to briefly recall those days. but long had the crown of exalt and the ruler kneeling before her had devoured that girl so that what was needed, what the people cried for, took its place. 

she is silent in the wake of her respectful but affectionate warmth. her heart twinges at her thanks; and for once her stoic, unflappable grace of calm is hindered. she almost grits her teeth internally at how merciful cordelia is. 

the young exalt and time-traveler holds back words of apology, of failing to save her life, of failing to in her eyes, so many failures in the eyes of the one hardest upon one’s self! her best friend’s grief...unable to have time to properly be a friend instead of the ruler that was necessary. 

instead; for a brief moment those heterochromatic eyes flit to her with unfathomable hope and unfathomable grief. “... i would have prevented more if i could. please, lady cordelia, you owe me no thanks. my father’s companions and friends taught me both in the past and future the meaning of camaraderie. even if it fell to me, i was never truly alone with your daughter nor others at my side. if hope can be preserved, if a future made bright is in the past...or perhaps your future? then that is all i have ever sought nor wanted. i want nothing more. “

 she raises herself; once more composed and a twitch of a smile not of indecipherable things but of happiness. enough that even a rare giggle touches her lips; ruined fingers covered by gloves ghosting her mouth as she laughs. 

“ . . . i haven’t been called a princess in such a long time. i became an exalt at a young age and it remains most of my life. “ she muses wistfully, smiling at her father’s dear friend. “ in a way i am still adjusting to past titles. but in this moment i would be nothing more than a girl who would selfishly seek your company. it...you are more than my family’s guardian among many. you are my family’s friend, a confidante, and for that my thanks will always overflow. “ 

a brief hesitant ghosting of fingers against the woman’s arm. smile warm and bright for eyes far, far too old. she understands what the paragon knight is trying to say. her smile only brightens; eyes crinkling with appreciation that hides the bitter sweetness of her message.

“ lady cordelia i would very much like to share chocolates with you. at the least, we could bake them? i...am actually well versed in cooking. both provisions and rations and in more...appropriate things.” a weak chuckle. “but for now, may we walk together and partake in this gift? not as an exalt or the princess i once was or am in your time, but as a rather simple person, really.” / @incursionparagon​

[futuresking]

I swear to you all…

our days of defeat end here.

Father, Mother…watch over me.

Because today -right now-

I’m taking our world BACK! 

Fire Emblem Awakening - The Future Past 3

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[futuresking]

✴ —— to think after fighting upon countless battlefields she would recompense lost, slain time with tea. she had many a tea party in her youth for the sake of propriety and it was a simple comfort between friends and allies. long had it been since she had truly been a princess, the exalt long taking its place. but here, in garreg mach, it was once again another false moniker she adorned for the sake of continuing to preserve time and history. she found it strange to interact with a woman who like her, might have an inkling of what it meant to truly be a veteran. not something she wished upon any soul in this kind place; absurdities and warmth abound. 

“professor byleth, good afternoon. “ a simple bow half at the waist before she offers her a soft, but warm smile, never quite losing that regal, serious mien. 

while her voice was soft there were hints of that innate, all consuming kindness within. she truly appreciated another person who like herself, could find lowering a blade or any weapon you could find perhaps struggling like her, and not like her, to acclimate to this place. to a concept of idleness that was not unwelcome, but did stir at her blood after a life of nothing but warfare, kingship and pyrrhic triumphs gasping to balance the insurmountable losses. 

“ thank you for having me. i see you have quite a selection. i do admit i find tea most comforting. and that you took time at all to have me is an honor indeed. truthfully you have my favorite already before you.” she smiles a bit softer; wondering if perhaps the internally bumbling but sincere professor, at least, if that reaction to her well wishes meant anything, the princess held out a small box.

“ i thought best to bring my gift when i heard of your invitation. i...am rather proficient at cooking, well enough that friends have not found them wanting! so i do hope you’ll accept it.” within were sugar cookies, glazed with a lemon icing and tipped with a thin veil of white, powdery sugar. 

she seats herself naturally, posture straight, eyes keen and unwavering upon hers with an intensity and equal measures grace. like the woman was years beyond nineteen. and if truth spoke, she was. 

“ ... my favorite’s chamomile. what about yours professor? “ she felt a warmth in her chest that tinged with appreciation for her own kindness. how thoughtful of her. some of these looked hand-made as well. for whatever reputation a fellow class---professor held, lucina could not help but politely place her gift upon the table. “ it’s a thank you for your birthday wishes to me. i did swear to myself to repay you, it simply was too kind. and made me feel so welcome. “ she politely gestures to the chamomile.

“perhaps we ought to pour each other our favorites? i admit i would very much like to get to know you better, with all my respect. i hope that is not too intrusive. i’ll pour yours and you pour mine perhaps? it sounds silly but i find tea is a wonderful way to bond with someone else. little things like this. moments of peace...i cherish them greatly. ”

as much as i cherish this kindness, i imagine for both of us adjusting                                ...may be more than we know.

Relaxing with Royal-tea

Starter for @futuresking

The former mercenary was often seen as a battle-hardened warrior with the unflappable personality to match. This had led to issues in the past with people not making the effort to get to know Byleth, writing her off as an emotionless killing machine. Being at The Officer’s Academy has given the now professor the chance to expose more of her ‘human’ side through interacting with fellow staff and students. She had met many colourful characters in her time there so far and keen to meet more.

Baking was a new hobby she’d taken up since arriving and with the help of some of the kitchen staff and her pupils she was proud to say she was improving. Not quite at the levels of Mercedes or Dedue yet but her sweets were edible at least. Recently, she’d begun offering them as gifts which had led to her most recent invitation. Afternoon Tea with Lucina.

Although they were members of the same house, Byleth had not had the pleasure of making the young ruler’s acquaintance until now when she had left some cookies on her doorstep as a birthday present. Byleth was ashamed to admit that having left her gift she had proceeded to retreat before the door was answered causing Lucina to have to run after her to thank her. She’d waved her off and beat a hasty retreat but had not forgotten the girl’s kindness at her awkwardness at the situation.

As way of apology for her behaviour and to get to know Lucina better, Byleth had invited her to share tea with her in the Rose Garden. The sun shone brightly illuminating the bright colours of the surrounding flower beds. Bees drifted lazily through the air and the hedge’s kept out the chill of the light breeze. The table was all set with her usual tea set - a gift from Jeralt when she became a professor along with a knowing wink - and a selection of tea’s to choose from. The pastries on offer were ones Byleth had made herself. Small fruit tarts sat glistening on a plate next to pastel macaroons, oat cookies and a simple cherry and almond cake.

In the distance she could hear the Monastery clock strike three and she glanced around to see if she could spot Lucina’s arrival. The chimes had only just stopped when the blue-haired princess appeared in the archway. Byleth rose to greet her.

“Thank you for coming. Would you like some tea? I wasn’t sure what your favourite was so I brought a selection” She rushed pointing at the line up of mint, rose, southern fruit, ginger, cinnamon, chamomile, pine needle, bergamot and apple teas. Preparing the pot she enquired “Did you have an enjoyable birthday?”

[futuresking]

ASK MEMES

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[futuresking]

activity check.

Total Skill Points: 11. Sword:  C > C+.

[futuresking]

Wait.. you’re.. you’re a woman? And quite the actress too. Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t figure it out until now.

[futuresking]

"Lucina. It's good to see you." Ike's greeting is brief, but a warm smile is pressed onto his face. A clink lands on the table in front of Lucina-- Dried Faerghus nuts and berries from his recent trip there, and what looks like long cables with pitons. He explains: apparently they're helpful for holding training dummies together for longer while they fracture.

✴ —— “ hello, ike. “ simple pleasantries that held heartfelt sentiment. such was their way. so often were they sparring or speaking of experiences without divulging their stories too overmuch that lucina enjoyed times when his eyes did not look to her expectantly for an instruction. there is a brief blink at the gesture before her; carefully researching in time she never imagined to be so full of; various plants, herbs, foods and customs of fodlan.

“ my experiences with you, my friend, tell me that these hold a deeper meaning.” some might think ike held no wisdom nor tact, as much as lucina held no flaws nor weaknesses. both were untrue. his companion can only finger it in her hands with a small chuckle at his open comment at her strength of breaking the dummies. a trait lovingly and embarrassingly inherited from father despite her all-rounded technique. 

“ thank you ike. i do prefer practicality over baubles, if i may be blunt? although i would never spurn any gift at all, so i suppose i contradict myself! “ a rare giggle before she moves to hold out her hand in gratitude. “ if i’m not mistaken do we not share a birthday? so today is your day as much as mine. i was wondering..”

appraising her friend as she sets the precious tool aside; it seemed they always came back to her house leader’s country. perhaps she really ought to study even more to be more respectful of the students borne of it and its leader? 

“ i assume professor rhys and princess maria gifted you cake most generously? if so... would you mind terribly if i ate some of mine with you? i think we ought to relax today. “ what a strange word for her to know or say! but in such peaceful times...undercurrents abound, as all things were, lucina felt it was an appropriate thing. 

hopefully her precious friend and student would not see it as anything less. 

“ happy birthday ike! “ a rare, bright smile. she grips his hand in hers; small, scared beyond measure, but sure, and intimately fond the way one might hold a family member’s hand. someone they trusted even without divulging the most painful of tales. “ i wish you good tidings, health, and many, many years to come. i look forward to seeing you grow even stronger both in heart and body. “

thank you for being my dear, dear friend.

[futuresking]

Wear gratitude like a cloak and it will feed every corner of your life.

Rumi (via om--namah-shivaya)

[futuresking]

“lucina,” eir’s smiles, a somewhat awkward expression upon her face, “happy birthday.”

some experience in giving gifts upon these very occasions had been accreted, she notices. no longer did she struggle too much in finding the proper words to say— it seemed, after all, that the thought alone was enough for most (and that was a rather kind aspect of all mortal hearts). in her hands, held out to lucina is a crown woven of flowers; bluestars, vibrant and soft in their light.

it had taken some time for the flowers to truly cultivate, and eir had tried her best to grow them, despite all of her lack of experience. she tends to them— picks them out just for lucina; that which symbolised the hope and beauty of all things, and the reaching out towards the infinite, almost unreachable of futures. the name, too, bore some resemblance— in that lucina, in all of her royal, navy light, was a star that encompassed those around her to follow.

“to many more years, with you,” she says, finally, thumbing the petals in her hold, gentle; moulding it, keeping shape. her gaze flits briefly towards the top of lucina’s head, before traveling downwards— meeting her eyes with a a question. “if you would please, allow me...?”

“ eir, you would...” she says simply and calmly. she should not be so arrogant to assu -- yet there it stands. a crown. long has she borne and forever in spirit will one be borne. yet in her hands are innocent flower crowns. things woven in her distant, slain youth.  she finds herself speechless at its sight; a brief, somber expression on her face that quickly turns to humility in its utmost. 

it’s a strange feeling. the weight of eir’s crown as opposed to her ancestor’s is far, far less heavy. it is the weight of love and friendship. it is the utmost honor even if eir knows it not. she cannot help but find her knees almost instinctively lowering in a regal, stately gesture of prostrating herself . but perhaps that reveals over much. in time she feels eir may know much anyway. it’s a...strange feeling.

“ my friend.” she repeats. softly looking at the flowers from the tall woman, ashen and bright-eyed with an immeasurable gentleness. a mercy that begets all others as the progenitor. her smile twitches in both bittersweet and equal measures openly tender; not twitching in a small smile but a solemnity and inability to truly express how much this meant.

crown me in flowers, you say? you would crown me in flowers . . . 

even if she feels herself a failure many if not each day; even if she is regaled by those who know her, hopeful and trusting eyes upon her atlas-laden back; she cannot help but find herself briefly closing calloused hands around her wrist.

“ i would ask you....for a personal reason to allow me to kneel. “ it’s soft, quiet.

let this be a coronation of spirit. a renewal of her vows and duties, and the freedom to choose them when no one would ask it of her. let it shine as a star brighter perhaps even than the coronation ages ago as exalt, holy king, any name but lucina. 

“ no, you may not know that this goes beyond all honor that i do not deserve, but, please. “ soft, vulnerable for once, regal mien and kindly features briefly faltering in a rare display of emotion. a silent plead. of warmth and love for the friend she echoes softly, “ please...one day i will tell you. perhaps. but this weighs more finely and truly than any gold or kingdom in all the world.”

please crown me in flowers. grace my head as if it were the brightest star. 

lucina releases her tender grip around death’s wrists and hope kneels. 

the woman kneels before her; head bowed in almost baffling humility for her confidence as her lips fully smile, almost as if it brings her comfort. 

it does.

“ . . . i kneel before your friendship. your goodness. so please, crown me in flowers, my gentle friend. and..do so knowing it is beyond words.” she glances up softly, mismatched eyes unfathomable in their myriad display of feelings. 

“ i can think of no higher honor from you, so please, do so. it is my pleasure, my joy, and a blessing. “ 

with the dignity and brightness that was beholden to her, lucina bows her head low, the glittering circlet upon her head catching in the light as without even hesitating she removes it. lashes brush against her skin; smile turns to solemnity as if before the ylissean court once again.

but this time the court is light and eyes look to her in friendship. not as their hope, their monarch, and the shoulders briefly lighten almost subconsciously.

a king crowned in flowers.....yes, to many years with you, gentle eir. many more.

“ please eir. i cannot tell you why, but... this is sacred to me in ways perhaps i can never truly share.” one day perhaps, but not this day. 

crown me in flowers, not as an exalt who never feels enough...                           ....but as your loyal friend.

“ countless years with you. “                          she echoes it softly, and with the reverence the moment is due.

[futuresking]

one sword and a world

[futuresking]

Byleth waited nervously outside of Lucina's room, her fist raised to knock on the door. She was still fairly new to being a professor and its accompanying roles and responsibilities. 'Was it ok to do this?' she thought. Too late. The door opened and she thrust forwards the plate of cookies she'd baked in the shape of balloons with 'Happy Birthday' piped inelegantly on them. "Happy Birthday! I wish you a wonderful day" she interjected hastily, before retreating to hide her embarrassment.

✴ ——  she has heard of someone with battle experience made professor. byleth, wasn’t it? as a survivor and victor of countless battlefields, the quiet exalt of a fallen world cannot help but be intrigued like so many are that a mercenary would be given such a profession. though qualification should be merited on skill, not birthrights. a staunch believer of such, she cannot help but be surprised at thinking a woman most were intimidated by rather...looks intimidated by her when she opens the door.

a kind, if not surprised smile on her face, small but palpable, years of battle instinct have her reflexes catch it rather aptly, too aptly for a mere student before she offers a surprised and very rare owlish blink, if not a brief, outright gape. 

“ pr-professor? professor byleth! please wait! by naga’s name -- ! “ hastily setting the cookies down the blue lions student matches her fast stride with ease as she wonders if she is only making it worse! but such kindness cannot go repaid, she delicately calls. 

“forgive me! but. can you stay a little bit enough for me to thank you, professor? please, you needn’t...be at unease with me. i assure you that i hold you in high esteem. to teach others is a kindness and a gift upon the world.” any world. 

“er, professor?” as she draws nearer from where she’s caught her retreating, concern wrinkles her brows. perhaps...this was a bad idea. 

“ um ... er, perhaps i will write to you later? if that pleases you? i did not mean to pursue you so relentlessly without regards to your feelings.....” but while her hands are torn from battle beyond recognition, she tentatively places a hand against her arm as if touching a startled animal. how strange..this is not what she had heard! but endearing nonetheless...as if seeing the human behind the beloved teacher.

“ professor byleth. you are very kind. “ looking down a bit to match her gaze, her own strong yet kind, she offers her a rare, but far more openly spread smile that crinkles her very eyes. 

“ i owe you my gratitude. and if you are willing, i will gladly return it with nothing but humility and a sense of honor in my heart. “ releasing her hand, the ruler and time-traveler walks away, one last glance before quietly striding back to her room. 

some things took time. lucina knew that better than most. nonetheless her lips are still...smiling.

[futuresking]

Send a ‘💭’ to learn what my muse thinks of yours.

[futuresking]

it’s heartening to see fellow students enjoy themselves. idly and quietly, a vision of blue and gilded gold; she walks quietly, careful not to interrupt dancing partners nor small circles enjoying their time. the wellspring of wishes upon her name day not celebrated in many a year, there must be recompense. not simply out of duty that beget a ruler of a world all but alive only in the wills of its survivors; nor the memories of the fallen, or her will, but because lucina, the girl, the student, wanted to. she’ll have to make a list. 

it’s only at the sight of the man before her that grants her pause without ceasing her steps. true, while it was not favorable to be in too close proximity to him with history’s weight on her shoulders, she cannot help but find herself smiling a bit fondly, albeit bittersweet at the vision of him fondly watching as she is. 

it’s rather uncanny, really. visions of similar colors, faces, wills. she thinks of her father, perhaps boyishly grinning in her heart somewhere to encourage her to dance. his rich laughter deep and full still something remembered in her heart. 

as she turns to glance at a couple doing rather clumsily, although she is no better, commander and veteran of countless battlefields, dead foe and living, she cannot help but find it refreshing. she is no dancer herself; and her lips ghost in a smile, noting their embarrassed glances her gaze is quietly encouraging. you’re doing far better than i would dare, she almost says dryly. 

when they impact, something about it feels natural. like two collapsing stars. perhaps a testament to their bloodline. to their wills. to their kindred selves beside one another. she does not notice the others looking at once again, the uncanny resemblances to one another. as if siblings. 

how wrong they were! naga bless them...

“ .... ah, please, forgive me as well. lucina is more than enough, however, if that’s alright prince marth? it’s..good to see you. i find that formalities for my person feel a bit strange. may i ask for that indulgence?“ i am no longer a princess, i have not been for many years, it was a title slain and sacrificed as countless others were. 

“ nothing, to me, is more precious than peace among many other virtues if put to practice. i admit seeing them dance far more finely than i ever could even in stumbling! is...very heartwarming. these are the things worth fighting for. this innocence. “ a dry smile as one falls, though she does not laugh, it has been so long since she has, the exalt and student  glances at her ancestor; eyes softening. 

“ if that is your dream i have no lack of certainty you will fulfill it. i cannot imagine you do not have steadfast allies who will share it with you, if i may be so bold. and in time your kingdom will see such things, even ah...” voice a softened, almost guilty whisper albeit again, dry humor!

“ clumsy dancing.  i think to see such a place as your altea if you continue to walk forward with your friends....would be a sight to behold. do you dance, prince marth? i confess i...am not the most adept. pray let me not keep you if you do. you seem like myself, very glad to see such a thing.  “  a kingdom of peace, and one that endures, and even in my time, endures still even if the body is gone, and the name renewed, the principles echoed. i carry my ylisse on.

“ ... simply watching them happy, bumbling as they are, brings me a strange joy.”

‘    melody     and     descant.    ‘     @futuresking​

              THE   WHITE   HERON   ball;

               five upon history’s count,  a decade on illusive account of feeling  —  for many years the war  -  torn territories of his archanean motherland knew no habits as this one.   but this is fódlan,  and he can be nothing if not grateful for the prosperity that deems its artists and peaceable pursuits generous in number.   holding his onlooking presence beneath a brick entablature of the courtyard,  the young archon’s eyes travelled lightly,  then thoughtfully,  over the masses in ‘training’  .  .  .

               twirling,  pirouetting,  stutter  -  stepping across the lawn to a heartfelt beat with such absorption.  such priceless smiles!   not a single handful of sword,  axe,  lance to be seen even from the students most typical of their keep—

               staunch is his spectatorship,  perhaps as so intense an isolation that he could not escape an outside element of surprise.   in his failure to heed encroaching steps from behind,  a deeper failure still to accommodate them,  he steps back and more narrow shoulder collides into the prince’s own with mild abrasion.

              fortunately,  the hero - king is sturdy,  it is not he who falters:

               but it is just as well,  for neither does she. 

               "   ah,  princess lucina,   “     notice quick of instinct,  words conscientiously quicker to follow alongside fingers nobly crossed upon his chest.     “   forgive me for my lack of attention!   it seems for the moment it had roamed elsewhere,   “     his warm conciliatory smile flashes,  full attention shining upon the ylissean royal,  before soon dimming to serene eyes that trail back to their former subjects.   beginners,  doyens,  men and women,  students and faculty,  begetting rhythmic motions as not provisions of violence but mere enjoyment.   biding for a ballad’s sweet accompaniment rather than the bitter cymbals of war.

               he cannot dispute the exchange is symbolic of a formless treasure he yearns,  a brilliant mirror he seeks;   this nation’s established peace for his own.

               “   .  .  .as they practice for the advent of a yearly ball,  such smiling faces tell the story,  do they not?   “     he starts pleasantly,  conversationally,  in the wake of a companionable downy silence.   though muffled by the distance,  a hardworking danseuse falls upon her knees after an imperfect twirl  -  laments the blunder with a harrumph of frustration.   his chuckle springs quietly with a low thrum at the luxury of frustrations so innocent,  so inconsequential,  ergo precious.     “   —that is,  trouble does not breed so insufferably in fódlan as it may do elsewhere.   to that same effect across my altea,  i hope to one day observe a youthful generation as freed from their worries as those here.   “

[futuresking]

"You!" Serra calls out to Lucina. "It's your birthday isn't it? What a fun coincidence, it's mine too!" She hands Lucina a small package of tulsi tea from a bag she's carrying. Is she hoping to spark the idea in others to treat her to something special too or is she hoping to prevent someone else from ever having a celebrationless birthday? We may never know.

✴ —— the informality reminds her that to many, she is human. not only steel and crown or grief or hope. “yes? it is indeed! and to hear yours as well...i had no idea you knew that. did you get your helping of cake, milady?” the woman laughs; soft and strong, as she closes the gap only to blink briefly, a brief hitch in step, at the presented gift. 

“ tulsi tea ? i hear it does wonders for one’s health. a friend of mine also purchased me a great deal of fine teas for my name day. perhaps we ought to have a tea time if you wish? “ she is trying to open herself enough to encourage these bonds, the bonds which have ever given her invincible strength. not strength alone, no, strength never served her alone. 

either way, it’s a sweet gesture; and while serra’s eyes hold an impish, irreverent gleam, they at their core, she senses, are harmless and genuinely well meant at the end of the day. for whoever she was, an unfamiliar face with a brightness to match the sunny day of their birthdays. 

“ can i help you carry some of these? i can’t imagine professor rhys or princess maria forgetting you a slice, but if you’d like more portions i am more than happy to share my own. as dearly as i enjoy a sweet, i think i may become ill from eating all of their massive generosity! “ a beat. “ but thank you. “ politely but kindness leaks in her voice. “ at the very least i’d like your name?

either way, thank you so much.”