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Black Is The Colour [Closed]


Clover

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Andre was back from his long trip. They'd barely had time to exchange words the past night at the Amphitheatre, but those they exchanged had been enough.

 

"Meet me tomorrow at the spot," Clover had told him, certain that he'd remember where the spot was. It was always that place in the forest, under a huge tree near the river. The bard had been away for a few weeks, and Clover was sure that he might have many stories to tell, or many stories she'd like to hear. Not just that; she had stories she wanted to tell him as well, questions she wanted to ask. He was a bard, he'd travelled around. Perhaps he'd have the answers she sought.

 

So there she was, waiting under the tree by the river, knees up and arms around them as her mind wandered with the elementals. Gridania's forest had always been a mysterious place, full of beautiful secrets.

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"Its been a while, Clover"

 

 

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Andre's naturally relaxed voice announced his presence as he quietly drew within range of his young acquaintance. A genuine smile would warmly greet Clover when she would look upon her expected guest who lingered but a few yalms away as though awaiting permission to come any closer. 

 

A small laugh would quickly follow, escaping past his lips after taking a short moment to study her expression.

 

"You're the same as ever I see! I wonder who it is that has been doing the most traveling" he added brightly before slowly stepping in a little closer toward her, creating a discreet crunch of twigs and foliage beneath his feet as he did so.

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The hyuran girl turned her head to the familiar voice, the one she'd been expecting. Her arms abandoned the comfort they'd found around her knees, her pose stiffening as she looked at him. She didn't stand up to greet him. Instead, a very small, yet genuine smile was drawn in her lips.

 

Her initial answer was a nod from her head. It did feel like it'd been a while from the last time they could sit down to talk.

"Have you visited many places?" She asked right away, waiting for him to sit down wherever would make him the most comfortable. She didn't inquire about the reason behind his trip, for that might be personal.

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"Ah..." he began while slowly taking a seat against the tree. The enclosing bark of the Gridanian giant was particularly even, allowing him to comfortably lie against it even with the absence of any cushioning moss. He sat at an angle to the girl so that he was facing away from her and down toward the nearby incline that steeped down to meet the running stream below.

 

"When you put it like that, I must admit that it was a nice chance to see the world outside of the twelveswood again.."

 

Andre paused for a brief moment as a soft breeze gently brushed across his face, its delicate touch vainly attempting to capture the hanging strands of blonde hair that fell decoratively across his sun-warmed cheeks; the sensation, silently and slowly encouraging a modest smile along with it.

 

"Although I found myself quickly missing this place..." he added with a halfhearted laugh as he flopped his head backward against the tree, angling his view upward to the partially-obscured, cerulean canvas above that was carefully dotted with clean and perfect puffs cotton.

 

 

 

"Ah..! By the by!" he spoke in a sudden, but moderated burst of energy while turning back toward the girl. His right arm extended firmly down into the soft ground like a beam, supporting his upper body as he leaned in closer to Clover with great interest.

 

"I was surprised you didn't participate in the story telling the other night. Had I noticed you earlier I would have found myself disappointed" he added almost too seriously while meeting her unblinking, emerald gaze.

 

 

He smiled.

 

("Then again... maybe its not that surprising") he thought quietly to himself while watching the quiet girl sitting curiously before him, anxiously awaiting her response.

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A pair of green eyes observed Andre from the moment he made himself comfortable against the tree. As it usually happened to her, Clover had become unaware of her own stare, as if the other person was some sort of an interesting animal she could observe freely; all without being seen. The girl was simply interested in his impressions about the world outside Gridania, so this was her way to pay attention to him.

 

Her eyes widened slightly, her body retreating slightly when he turned energetically towards her, taken aback.

 

"Um..."

 

Clover's knees raised again, adopting the comfortable pose she'd had before he arrived. Her eyes moved to any random spot on the grass.

 

"I love stories. All kinds," the hyur started explaining, before certain memories from the previous night made her correct herself. "...Almost all kinds. That's why..."

 

Without noticing, her feet had started toying with one another in small movements. She continued speaking.

 

"That's why, had I participated with a story of my own, it'd have been a lost chance for me to hear another..."

 

A new thought crossed her mind right then, making her eyes open slightly wider with something akin worry. Her gaze turned quickly towards her friend.

 

"Did you... sing any song yesterday? After I left..."

 

Clover had been very disappointed that duties forced her to leave before the event ended. She spent the rest of the night lamenting all the stories she missed...

 

 

((OOC: Basically, my great EU timezone made me miss half event ;_; ))

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- "...Almost all kinds. That's why..." -

 

 

Andre's expression fell vacant for a moment in uncertainty. His eyes remained trained on her with some confusion as his brow furrowed slightly in thought.

("Did she not find the stories entertaining enough?") he thought aloud in his head before suddenly the realisation came back to haunt him.

 

("OH....... those...") he narrated silently in his head, cursing himself for failing to remember such an obvious and embarrassing detail. A faint blush and awkwardly humoured expression on behalf of the innocent, young girl was all he could display for a moment while he broke eye contact with her shyly.

 

 

"No.... no, I'm afraid I didn't sing. I suppose I didn't want to impose upon the young host's performance nor bore the audience with my less polished skills" he chuckled in dismissal as he returned to his previous position facing away from the girl. Her question had inspired a moment's interest within him though it was quickly interrupted and forgotten due to another and overshadowing thought.

His eyes flicked away to the ground for a moment in thought. Upon returning, a slow and mischievous smirk slowly formed across his face. He couldn't help himself.

 

 

"Ahh... but this is still disappointing. I feel I am owed at least one story now.." he sighed with lament while throwing his eyes up the sky eagerly. It was obvious through the tone of his voice that he was just being playful with the idea. As much as he doubted it to be the case he didn't want to pressure the girl into accepting such a 'request'.

 

((OOC: In another scene, no worries Clover >w<))

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Clover looked at Andre for a few seconds, before her gaze returned to nowhere. She didn't need her eyes when her imagination started running, and being asked for a story triggered it. There was one roaming her mind, actually; it was somehow related to the puzzle of her thoughts.

 

"Once upon a time, there was a young hyur prince without a heart..."

 

As always, she could hear her grandpa's voice in her mind, telling her the story for the first time. She remembered that day, six years ago.

 

[...]

 

Once upon a time, there was a young hyur prince without a heart.

 

The music he played with his violin filled the whole castle with such sorrow that no one could stand listening to it, for they feared that the sound would destroy their hearts as well. His father, the King, forbade his son from playing nearby anyone who could hear him, so the prince started traveling to the lonely lake every sun. No soul would hear him there, and no heart would be ruined. Only the animals from the lake would be soothed by the sound of his violin, since they couldn’t understand emotions in the same way hyurs did.

 

Every sun, a young white bird who lived in the lake would listen to the prince’s melody.

 

The first sun, it’d been just a sound.

The second sun, it’d been sadness and fascination.

The third sun, there was also wonder; why was the hyur prince so sad?

The fourth sun, a wish was born. A strong, pure wish.

 

“I want to play with the prince, at least once. I want to be a part of his music; if only I could show him how wonderful it is!".”

 

......

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Andre's sapphire eyes widened in surprise as the girl suddenly slipped into story-telling mode without much of a delay. His request had of course been genuine, though he didn't expect her to trouble herself by doing so in that moment on a whim.

 

Maybe.. his request was an unconscious attempt to meet her again at a later date, an honest thought occurred to him. While he didn't know her very well, her presence and voice felt oddly warming to him. Perhaps because it was so unlike the more energetic and charismatic females he was accustomed to meeting back in Ul'dah when he and the others played music; however, whatever the reason was, she undoubtedly stole from him his sense of worry. Her innocence as it were, was oddly soothing, a reassuring blanket that wrapped itself delicately around him during their short meetings.

 

("Wasn't something troubling you...?") a small thought struggled to bubble to the top of his mind through the ongoing activity as he recalled the way she had summoned him the other night, though it was soon forgotten amidst the proceeding tale.

 

 

 

A soft smile passed along his features as he returned to a comfortable position by placing his gaze forward along the sloping, grassy hills. A deep but silent inhale filled his lungs with the sweet scents of the forest and echoed the lowering of lazy eye lids as they contently bid temporary farewell to the vibrant world around them so that his imagination may embrace the world that was slowly being painted by the words that carefully slipped over the young girl's lips; words that were a youthful reminiscence of aged but lively echoes of an old man's tale, a man now lost from this world to what they could only hope was an afterlife inspired by his tales.

 

Andre hung on to every description carefully, using her words as the paintbrush to fill in and colour the empty canvas that was slowly coming to life before him in the solitude of his own mind.

His smile grew a little wider as he briefly imagined the story being told with the voice of a loving and curious grandfather. He imagined his storytelling to be one that would always keep even the most disinterested of hearts entertained through the genuine mystery and wonder that resonated through the confident tone of an aged voice. The fictional voice that he had imagined in his head slowly faded however, returning Andre to the sweet and heartwarming tone of Clover's young and feminine voice as she spoke slowly but enchantingly, revealing one of her sacred tales to Andre and the whispering trees around them.

 

It was strange Andre thought, it was almost as though she were a different person when she was like this. It wasn't that she seemed more confident, but rather...

 

 

("...this is your world..?")

His thoughts concluded seriously. He smiled again as she continued telling her story, oblivious to his thoughts. Perhaps it was a biased preference but he somehow doubted he would rather hear stories being told by anyone else. This girl is so engaged with the tales that she speaks of, and because of her they almost feel... real.

 

("I see...") he thought quietly to himself after a moment's thought, his smile growing subtly wider in return.

 

His head slowly leaned back against the tree's smooth bark cosily, allowing the warmth of the morning sun that eagerly pierced through the emerald leaves above to blanket itself soothingly across his exposed neck and relaxed expression while he listened contently to Clover's melancholic tale.

 

Her voice was like an unceasing lullaby.

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The tale continued without interruption. Clover's eyes were still lost nowhere, far away from the Gridanian forest.

 

[...]

 

So powerful and loud the little bird’s awakened conscience was, it caught the Snow Witch’s attention.

 

“That’s an interesting heart you’ve obtained, little bird,” the witch said. “I could let you fill it with the true joy you’re seeking, so long as you give it to me afterwards. After all, what does a bird want a heart for?”

 

Moved by love for the first time in its life, the bird accepted. On the fifth sun, its feathers disappeared.

 

Playing was the prince in the lake, always playing his sad tune, when the cry of another violin started mixing with his own. Surprised, the hyur rose his eyes to meet a young, pale girl playing beside a nearby tree with a gentle smile. Even if her tune was sweeter than his, both sounds mixed so perfectly that anyone would have believed they were born as a single piece-- she was everything he lacked, and so was he to her.

 

For minutes and bells they played their violins, painting the lake and the forest with their music. When the prince noticed, something had started changing inside of him. It made him stop playing abruptly, afraid.

 

“I’m not the owner of my own heart,” he explained when the music had ceased. Much like his violin, his voice was the most melancholic of sounds. “The Snow Witch took it years ago, replacing it with a frozen one; her gift to me. You have erased my loneliness today; you have warmed me. I appreciate your music, but melting the ice is not what I seek.”

 

The bird, which had gained a heart from the heartless, finally understood the reason behind the prince’s sadness. That which the Witch had given him, he’d embraced it with every consequence. The bird couldn't but treasure those emotions as well, for they were the reason she’d been born. Her short dream had become true; even if bathed by melancholy, even if brief, it’d been a good life. That was why she thanked the prince with her gentle smile, and much to his surprise, she disappeared then.

 

In her last thoughts, she was certain that even if the prince forgot her, she'd never forget him.

 

...

 

The next sun, a white bird who lived in the lake flew nearby the prince to listen to his soothing song, unable to comprehend it just like any other animal; unaware that, for the first time, the prince’s tune had started changing into something different. A sweeter, gentle sound.

 

[...]

 

"That is the end of the story," Clover finished, her vision finally focusing on her surroundings. She was back to Gridania, back to Andre's side. There was still something in her mind, however, but she wanted to hear if he had enjoyed it as much as she did back in the day.

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For the longest moment it felt as though his eyelids were glued shut... or perhaps too heavy to open as, soundlessly, he struggled to reopen them and return to the vibrant embrace of the Gridanian woodlands whose natural sounds faintly called out to him in the form of indecipherable whispers, quietly informing him that it was time to his return to the real world once more. When he finally succeeded, glassy eyes of deepening sapphire revealed themselves to the warm and welcoming light that filled the forest around them with a pale glow. They stared blankly on out ahead of himself for a short moment as his thoughts struggled to catch up to his fleeting mind.

 

"That is the end of the story"

 

 

The concluding words of the green-eyed girl finally processed with Andre as he snapped out of the drowsy state Clover had bestowed upon the Ul'dahn hyur with her enchanting story. Perhaps he hadn't given himself enough time to rest since his return, the thought occurred to him. The story wasn't even that long in truth, and yet.. he felt oddly drained of his energy.

 

Blinking a few times in response to Clover's voice, Andre recalled the entire story as it was told as though he were just awoken from a nostalgic dream. Regardless, no detail was left forgotten. He found the story to be beautifully mesmerizing in its teaching of sacrifice. A tragic tale that succeeded in aching the hearts of it's audience could never be discredited. Its beauty of course, only enhanced through the soft narration of a young and enthusiastic Clover Blake who, with a sweet but moderated voice, depicted the sorrowful tale of unconditional love with a perfection that left nothing to be desired.

 

Andre breathed in a long but soft breath as he contemplated a fitting response to such a tale, one that had carefully toyed with his heart.... though for once, he found himself at a loss. Perhaps it was his fatigue or a momentary loss for the right words, though whatever the reason had been, the response was not something that could have been said on a whim. Tales like the one she had told were peculiar, as though they always needed some time to effectively sink in.

 

He released the breath again, its quiet and unseen escape into the rising air bringing with it a faint smile.

 

"Beautiful.."

 

His awaited response in the end was so simple, though in the end, to him it was somehow very befitting - summarizing everything that he had felt from the short and isolated experience in the woodland.

 

His eyes lowered to the ground as they gazed upon the leaf litter and random assortment of small twigs wistfully, his faint smile slowly fading in reflection of the tale and himself.

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Another smile, small and brief as usually, was seen in Clover's features. That Andre had appreciated one of her grandpa's tales made her very glad.

 

To Clover, however, it wasn't a tale of sacrifice; it was about the search for that unknown magic called happiness, strange as it might always be. Something she loved about many of her grandpa's tales was that, as he'd well say, everyone would see a different colour in them.

 

Her expression turned serious again, eyes looking into the distance as she took a deep, silent breath, almost a sigh. Her question, which had been roaming her mind for a while, wouldn't take long.

 

"Andre, how do you know if you're in love?"

 

That person's words were still ringing in her ears, troublesome like her question itself.

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A gentle smile quickly returned upon hearing Clover's question. The golden-haired hyur paused for a moment in thought, his eyes tracing along the ground through the swaying grass before leaning his head back against the tree once more to face back up toward the obscured sky.

 

"I wouldn't know, truthfully..." he answered with an audible sigh.

 

"I'd like to think that its one of those feelings where such a question wouldn't be necessary" the hyur continued, pausing shortly to observe a weightless piece of emerald - disturbed by a nesting bird - flutter gracefully, down from the painting above to reacquaint with its fallen friends nearby. The topic at hand made him briefly recall an old friend, the girl his father had wanted him to marry back in Ul'dah. The daughter of another wealthy family, of course. Andre dragged one of his free fingers through the soft topsoil alongside himself, drawing nothing in particular as the thought stole him away for a second. She had indeed been a very sweet girl and very beautiful as well; though even in spite of her being equally fond of him in return, it was never a relationship that was considered "love" by either of them.

 

("Some people just operate better as friends...") was his unspoken opinion.

 

Returning from his train of thought, he offered a soft, half-laugh before speaking again.

 

"But then again, since when has the hyur heart been an easy thing to understand?"

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Albeit Andre had stated that he didn't know much about the matter either, Clover found his words somehow useful.

 

"Do you know the song 'Black Is The Colour'?" She spoke again, not looking at him or anywhere in particular. Her eyes were still lost in the distance.

 

"It was my grandpa's favourite, for it reminded him of grandma. I never got to meet grandma, sadly, but he would always say that she was like that song. No-- she was that song."

 

Her chin came to rest over her raised knees, arms laced around it. Her eyes, half closed, silently spoke of personal frustration.

 

"In my case, I don't think I've heard the music. I don't hear anything..."

 

 

 

 

 

 

((Black Is The Colour - KOKIA ver.))

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Andre's curious gaze returned over his shoulder towards Clover at the mention of the song. He was indeed familiar with it. It was a song seldom played in the places he frequented but one absolutely worth knowing for its gentle and lulling composure. Though it was out of curiosity for where she was leading with the topic that intrigued him the most.

 

"In my case, I don't think I've heard the music. I don't hear anything..."

 

 

Andre quickly responded with an entertained laugh upon Clover's admittance. He tried to allow himself to sound friendly in the process, though it couldn't be helped if Clover would initially interpret it as some form of teasing.

 

"Aren't you a little young to be harbouring such worries? You're starting to make me feel anxious for myself" he mused, referring to him appearing to have at least a few summers on the mysterious girl. Her slight but apparent frustration coupled with the posture she had taken made the situation all the more humourous for the bard though he picked on it no further out of consideration.

 

He sighed loudly in contentment before pushing himself back to his feet, walking a little ahead of where Clover sat quietly and proceeding to loosen up his stiff joints with some simple stretches.

 

"I may not know much about love nor relationships, but I don't believe that it takes that kind of experience to be certain of what I feel I am" he began in honesty. His tone of voice had changed slightly. It was still conveying its normal and friendly tone though it was somehow more serious - more assuring and confident rather than being conscious of interpretation.

 

"Everyone, or rather... every couple has their own unique melody. I cannot make too many presumptions about you being that I haven't known you for very long, but you are certainly something unusual" he continued while engaging his arms in a different stretch. His sea-blue eyes were focused out ahead of him. Staring blankly into the distance until everything grew blurry as he focused intently on what he wished to say, though remaining ignorant of so much as making eye contact with the girl.

 

"Much like sounded to be the case with your grandparents, I'm sure that your melody will be far more beautiful than even the sweetest composition ever created by man" were his words as the man clearly revealed himself to be unafflicted by his own honeyed talk.

 

His arms fell back down by his side in satisfaction before he allowed himself to turn back toward Clover with the familiar, warm and reassuring look that he often boasted.

 

"But like music made by man, such melodies cannot be obtained so easily" he admitted without reluctance as he stepped back toward the girl and casually leaned his back against the tree, standing alongside her this time.

 

 

"But it will come. And you will hear it" he added while looking down at her with a warm smile and an encouraging sense of certainty. To her, his words may have sounded like ridiculous claims just for the sake of easing her mind, though to Andre, the girl was indeed as special as he insisted upon. Friendly bias could only extend so far.

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In Clover's ears, the innocent laughter from the boy did sound like some sort of mockery, though she wouldn't blame him. Her face abandoned the comfort of her knees to look at him, not without something akin frustration in her features.

 

The more encouraging words he said, the more she realized he hadn't understood why she was troubled; in fact, he seemed to have understood the opposite.

 

"I don't want to hear it," she stated firmly and quickly, as soon as Andre's last word had left his lips. "That I'm supposed to hear it sooner or later worries me."

 

With half a frown, her gaze travelled down to her own knees.

 

"I'm not the kind of character anyone should look at in a tale."

 

It was true that the matter had been troubling her from the day she heard that person's confession, but she didn't know why she felt angry at this moment. Perhaps it was due to the fact that this was the first time she'd let her frustration come out; perhaps it was the feeling of being too lost at the way life had always kept changing. Having emotional outbursts was unlike her, and this was the most similar to one she'd experienced in a while, faint as it'd been.

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The hyur's eyes narrowed at her words. So it wasn't a worry for never hearing it but rather the opposite. Andre was struck silent for a moment as his eyes travelled waywardly across the sun-bathed scenery in thought. His upbringing had turned him into an unusual character, a romantic that hesitates little when it comes to honeyed talk, though it was likely only an emphasis toward Clover's discomfort judging by her response.

 

 

"I hope by that you mean you are a being that does not find comfort in the concept of love and partnership rather that someone who believes themselves unworthy of it" was his response after a moment. His voice had become solid and less friendly now as he looked down at the young girl carefully in anticipation, genuinely uncertain of her words' meaning.

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Clover's eyes didn't raise to him, nor did her expression change at all. Her friend's question left her lost in thought for a few seconds, searching for an accurate answer. There was no accuracy, however, in a matter she didn't fully understand herself. Love had always been something beautiful in tales, in others, but when it was about her, it became the most strange, most scary thing ever.

 

"I don't feel worthy or unworthy... I just don't know how to deal with that kind of attention; it's not a part of me."

 

Being the ghost who listened to everyone else's tales was easy. Others would experience life -the joy and the pain-, and Clover would merely learn everything she needed from them without getting too involved. That was the way of living she'd always known.

 

"I guess I'm not ready for it," was the final and only conclusion her mind could reach, in an attempt to simplify her own emotions. It felt wrong, therefore, she wasn't ready.

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Andre's expression quickly returned to it's normal, content state upon hearing her words, a shy smile finally breaking through the surface of his once solid expression and restoring him to his typical composure. He was satisfied with that answer.

 

"I see" he replied softly.

 

His gaze drifted away from her and returned to face ahead of himself once more. His softened, sapphire eyes focused on the surface of the rolling stream as it scurried and tumbled over it's uneven, rocky bed to try and quickly make its way down to the placid safety of the pool near the bottom of the hill.

 

He blinked slowly as he articulated his thoughts on the matter before parting his lips to speak again.

 

"Though if you don't mind me saying, I do believe in what I had mentioned earlier" he added after a moment without taking his eyes away from the fleeting river water.

 

"Everyone's melody is different, unique. Should you find yourself as audience to the music eventually then I'm sure it will be with someone who understands and knows best how to keep your lack of certainty at bay. Or..." he trailed off for a moment.

 

"...or perhaps the music will be so overwhelming that you'd be willing to openly embrace what you fear now" he concluded in speculation.

 

In truth, there was only so much he could say being that he too, had yet to hear the music, though at the very least he wanted to reassure the girl. There were much graver things to fear in this world after all.

 

 

"I'm sorry..." he added with a small laugh in embarrassment after another short pause before continuing.

 

"As I have said, I am not certain myself, but... be it fairytales or genuine instances like that with your grandparents... doesn't it make you feel as though its something you cannot truly comprehend until it comes to you? Every song is different and yet, somehow...... they all sound the same"

 

His voice began soft and carefree, but as it continued it slowly drifted into something more somber and passionate, as though lulled by the intensity of his own words. Andre was not ready for such things either, but from everything he had heard and even from the songs he had sang so often before, the mysterious tales of lovers and the loveless had left him curious of the one emotion he did not fully understand.

 

 

In a brief moment of hindsight, his mind returned to that of Clover's predicament. As innocent as her spoken feelings made her sound, it also sparked a feeling of sadness within the male.

 

("Is love really something to fear?")

 

 

[Close Curtain]

[End of Scene]

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