Ecco, questa è una cosa che non capisco.
I libri in questione sono semplicemente meravigliosi, li conoscevo già e li vorrei tanto prendere.
Ma come si leggono?
Serve un leggio come minimo e poi ancora perché aprendoli si rovinano tantissimo.
In sostanza devi comprarli, metterli in libreria a fare la loro porca figura e poi leggerli in digitale.
In ogni caso sono bellissimi. ^__^
#salto2018 #torino #scrivere #PorticiDiCarta #PorticiDiCarta2018 #nanowrimo #nanowriita #minuticontati #imwriting
Another part of my Voltron/Persona crossover thingy.
Keith and his persona, Apollyon, of the Death Arcana.
I gave Keith Death because he seems to have been undergoing, and will undergo, the most profound changes so far in the series. He learns about his heritage from the Galra, and it affects his relationship with the team (mostly Allura, I want that expanded on), he may be forced to change his position in the team with Shiro missing. I seem to have given him Adrien Agreste’s shirt for some reason. Even I’m not sure why. I probably just wanted to add more color to the picture. :Y
I messed up the sword handle and just kind of had to go with it...
Apollyon is another name for Abaddon, an angel associated with Hell. There is some disagreement on whether he’s fallen or not. Some say he’s the anti-christ or even the devil, but some others have him as God’s agent of destruction, by throwing the devil and agents of evil into the abyss.
This version is meant to be divine, rather than fallen. The design is based off of the character Apollyon from The Binding of Isaac, since I liked that he looked kind of like a hollow statue there. His chest is cracked open, revealing a literal heart of fire. (I’d also like to note that just because I give a character a dark or evil figure as a persona, that doesn’t mean I think the character is evil. Just that I see some cool parallels that make them an interesting fit.)
That arm is supposed to be extra long. I was trying to incorporate Galra anatomy into it, but I don’t think I quite succeeded.
Apollyon has fire skills, but is primarily a physical attacker, focusing mostly on slashing and piercing attacks. He has really high physical attack, but mediocre magic. Higher than average speed, but not as high as Feronia. Average vitality. Maybe some attack boosting skills and dark skills? Nullifies fire, resists dark, weak to ice.
I take longer on these each time, but I do feel like they also keep improving. :)
Even if I did maybe go overboard on coloring the lineart.
Three down, three to go! (Unless I add some minor characters to the mix) I think Shiro is next. I have some ideas on his arcana and persona already. Also, I may post the sketches I made while brainstorming Apollyon, they’re really messy but I like them.
Once again a shout out to @fischotterchen for chatting with me a fair while back and helping brainstorm this stuff! (I hope it doesn’t bother you if I tag you in these. Just let me know and I’ll stop.)
The first drawing in a bit of a project I’m working. I’m going to try and draw all the Voltron paladins, Allura, and Coran with personas (from the game series).
Also, a shout out to @fischotterchen for being kind enough to discuss the paladins and arcana with me! Thank you! You really helped my plans for Shiro in particular.
First up is Lance, because he’s awesome. I actually drew Lance a while ago, but just got to designing and drawing his persona earlier today. I wish I had the skills to make the more complicated designs used in the games, but I’m not there yet... I did look at some art of Varuna plus Digital Devil Saga’s interpretation of him to decide what I wanted. Also yes, the manifestation of Lance’s inner self is a mermaid/man. I think he’d be happy.
I like how Lance’s shirt turned out, pink looks good on him. :P I decided to try messing with new outfits for the paladins, too.
Lance’s persona is Varuna, under the Magician arcana. Varuna was formerly the chief god in the Vedic pantheon, but was eventually displaced by Indra, and then further by Shiva and Vishnu. Still, Varuna is considered a powerful god with power over water and is also a god of law. He’s often associated with Mitra, a god of contracts, friendship, and meetings, as well. I thought that the displacement thing fit in with Lance’s occasional lack self-confidence as a member of the team. Could someone come along and to his role better? (No. But Lance, for all his cockiness, is also kind of vulnerable.) Varuna rides on a makara and carries a noose made from a snake. I couldn’t fit a full makara in the picture, so I combined it with the snake, which is why it has antlers. (I think it’s kinda cute, myself.)
I decided Magician was an interesting fit for Lance since it can personal power, resourcefulness, intent, achieving one’s potential. Reversed, it can mean a lack of skills (or perhaps a perceived lack?), attempting to reach one’s goals but being unable to make progress. It can represent a person’s ego and self-awareness. Sometimes I pick an arcana because it matches the character’s current state, sometimes it’s based on where I think their arc may take them, or what kind of arc I want for them. Lance needs to learn that he has the skills and resources to be a valuable member of the team. That he is a valued member of the team.
Varuna has powerful ice magic and and support skills to boost accuracy and evasion. He has good magic, above average agility, but moderate defenses and health. A solid, dependable persona, capable of dealing lots of damage and taking it when needed. Absorbs ice, resists striking physical attacks, weak to fire (*cough* Keith *cough*).
Is it bad I’m considering an AU for this?
Edit: I forgot that Varuna likely has skills with the Charm effect, too. (Marin Karin and Sexy Dance. Which would likely involve Varuna flexing dem abs. :P Ignore me. I’m being silly.)
Part two of my Voltron/Persona thing! This time it’s Pidge with her Persona, Feronia.
Much as with Lance, I drew Pidge a while ago but didn’t design and draw her persona until yesterday. I tried to stretch myself on this one and make a more complex design, aiming for cyberpunk mixed with plants. I’m not sure I succeeded. Still, the more I look at it the more I like it? That’s the opposite of what usually happens.
Feronia is a Roman goddess associated with wildlife and forests. She’s also a goddess who grants freedom to slaves (hence the broken chains), which made me think of Pidge’s brother. One of her primary goals is to free Matt from the Galra, and likely she’ll expand that to include everyone captured by the Galra. Feronia is also a goddess who represents the wild turned to the good of society, either as a resource to be tamed or as part of an important balance and a neutral ground.
Feronia has average strength and magic, slightly below average health, but high speed and luck. She almost always gets the first attack, and is equally adept at slashing attacks and wind magic. She also has debuffs to lower enemy defense and accuracy/evasion. She can probably boost her crit. rate, too.
Feronia is also capable of acting as a sort of mission control, though it’s not her specialty (Like Mitsuru from Persona 3). Though, Pidge seems a little too confrontational to really be satisfied working behind the scenes and not being on the front lines with the other paladins. The little Rover basically follows the team while Feronia projects data for Pidge to analyze: enemy weaknesses and attack types, mapping, energy readouts. Rover lives on in Pidge’s heart, bless the little drone. Also there’s an asteroid named Feronia and I kind of wanted to incorporate that. Feronia absorbs wind, resists lightning, and is weak to piercing attacks. Wind was the closest I felt I could get to wood, in this case. Not terribly durable, but very good at hitting where it hurts for maximum impact.
Feronia is under the Chariot arcana. The Chariot represents motion, competence, determination. Reversed it can rushing without thinking ahead, stress, lack of discipline. This mostly relates to Pidge earlier in the series, when she nearly ran off to find her brother without thinking of the larger picture and without a real clue where to look or what resources may have been required to save him. It’s also clear from the lengths she’s gone through to find the truth that Pidge has drive in spades. Still, sometimes she has to be reminded to slow down, and look at things from a broader point of view, see how things interconnect.
I’ve finally gotten chapter 7 out on AO3, so I’ll post the chapters here, too.
AO3 Link
Previous Chapter
Next Chapter (To Be Added)
Ch. 2
Arthur admitted that running after that dog had been an astoundingly stupid idea. He came to this conclusion when he was jumped by a pair of those dog sized frogs.
Froggits have difficult lives. Try complimenting them, it will make them feel better. Or threaten them, they may get scared and run away.
They didn’t seem to be doing anything, though his soul was hovering in front of him. Okay, no Toriel to help and he wasn’t sure she’d get here in time to save him even if he called.
Maybe he could reason with them? Toriel had said to strike up a conversation. He hadn’t had a chance to really see that first froggit’s reaction before Toriel scared it off.
Urgh, he hoped this’d work. “You have very pretty eyes?”
I can’t tell if you are able to hear me or not. Perhaps only slightly? Where did that other presence go?
The froggit on the left tilted its head. Did it understand?
The froggit on the right gave a loud hiss, like a cat, and leapt at him. Arthur jumped over it.
“Uh, nice jump? You’re very athletic!”
The attacking froggit stayed where it landed. Neither of them seemed interested in fighting anymore, for some reason. There faces were bright red. Were they...blushing?
“Uh, bye?” The two froggits hopped off, glancing back once with quiet croaks. They left behind a few shining coins on the ground.
Were they gold? Arthur picked up the coins and pocketed them. Was this what Alice felt like in Wonderland? This was place was surreal.
Another froggit was standing near a door, but Arthur’s soul didn’t pop out. Guess that one wasn’t going to attack.
“Ribbit ribbit,” it said. “Ribbit ribbit.”
If a monster doesn’t seem like it wants to fight, either because you’ve fought it to the brink or you befriended it, then you should be merciful.
“Ah, thanks?” Wait, how had he understood that? It was just croaks…
Ah, so you can hear me on some level!
Arthur turned and hurried to check out the room behind the froggit. Maybe the dog was in there.
Nope, no dog. Though there was a bowl of hard candy on a pedestal. A small, neatly written note said, “Please take one.”
Arthur went ahead and pocketed one, though who knew if it was safe for human consumption.
He returned to the hallway with the froggit and followed the path. That dog couldn’t have gone in any other direction, right? Though it had major head start now.
Around the corner and through the next roo-
“Aaaagh!” The floor gave way underneath him, dropping him into a pile of leaves. He wasn’t hurt, though he hoped he wouldn’t be falling anymore that day.
Thankfully, there were two narrow ramps back up to the previous floor. He took the one that let him continue forward, past the hole he’d fallen in.
The phone Toriel gave him rang. “Hello? This is Toriel. Arthur, for no reason in particular, which do you prefer? Cinnamon or butterscotch?”
Well that was out of nowhere. “Butterscotch?”
“I see. Thank you very much. I do hope you are alright waiting alone?”
Uhhhh. “Yes. Everything’s fine, nothing to worry about.” There was the dog at the end of the room, panting and staring at him. Its way was blocked by another wall of spikes, trapping it. The locket was right in front of it.
“Oh, good. By the way, you do not dislike cinnamon do you?”
“Nope, cinnamon is fine.” Arthur inched forward, trying not to startle the dog. Just a bit closer…
“Good. Thank you for being so patient. Goodbye!” She hung up.
Arthur leapt at the locket, but tripped over a rock in the middle of the room, falling flat on his face. The dog barked and there was the sound something scurrying away. Damn it!
Arthur stood, rubbing his nose. It didn’t seem broken.
He looked to where the dog had been. The spikes were down, now. How did that happen?
He’d landed on a pressure plate he hadn’t noticed before, a path running from it to the rock. When Arthur stood, releasing the plate, the spikes extended again. He shoved the rock onto the plate and the spikes lowered.
Maybe he should call Toriel and let her know he’d left the long room?
He started forward again and took out the phone. As he dialed, something whapped him upside the head.
He felt his soul burst out of chest and looked forward. There was some kind of bug-thing the size of his fist.
Poor whimsun. It’s even more scared than you are.
He opened his mouth to say something, but it burst into tears and flew away before he could say anything.
This place was nuts.
He started forward again, taking care to watch where he was going.
The ground fell out from under him.
Arthur screamed until his lungs gave out before he realized he’d fallen in another pile of leaves. Dammit, not again.
There was another ramp to take him back up; but since this was probably a puzzle it would likely be a good idea to look around first.
Yep, there was a plaque telling him not to step on the leaves. There was also a clear path in the leaves. Somehow. So, how to remember the path?
He walked the path a few times, counting his steps and recording them as a memo on his phone, along with his changes in direction.
Clever boy…
Yep, he could be clever when he wanted to be. When he returned to the upper floor he had no problems getting across.
Another room, another puzzle. This time with guest star Ms. Talking Rock and a bunch of living jello molds. Ugh. At least that one was easy.
Moldsmals are very sexy, but not too bright. Who knew they’d mistake trembling for wiggling?
Why was there a stool with a hunk of old cheese stuck to it? Was it for the mouse? Arthur left of few hamster pellets outside the mouse hole. It would probably like those better. Moving on….
There was a ghost blocking the hallway, lying in a pile red leaves. Like, an actual bedsheet ghost. Arthur had never seen a ghost that <em>actually </em>looked like that. Oh wait, the mansion… Yeah, not thinking about that right now.
Should he try to walk through it? That didn’t seem smart. Maybe Toriel would help if he called her…
“Zzzzzzzzzzzz…,” the ghost said, as if it were pretending to snore. Arthur thought he saw one eye squint open for a second.
He was so done. His ability to be shocked and terrified had been fried, especially as the “monsters”, with one exception, hadn’t been particularly monstrous. They’d mostly left him alone after he talked or otherwise interacted with them. Monsters were weird.
“Excuse me?” Arthur said. He got no response. “Could you move please?” Why was the hall so narrow here?
The ghost stayed where it was.
Arthur huffed and tried nudging it with his foot.
The ghost sprang up and its eyes started welling with tears.
“Hello?” Arthur said. “Sorry, about that.”
The tears gushed forth in veritable geysers. Arthur ducked to the side, a few drops hitting his arm. They burned like acid!
You may want to try cheering him up. Or flirting.
“I’m really sorry, man! C’mon, I bet you’ve got a really nice smile!”
The ocular gushers abated to trickling streams down the ghost’s face. It was watching him more intently now.
“My name’s Arthur. What’s yours?”
“...Napstablook...oh….” Okay, good. It was talking and not projectile-crying acid.
“Cool. I-it’s nice to meet you.”
“Oh… I usually come to the ruins to be alone. But today I met someone nice...oh….”
“Yeah, I’m new here. Just thought I’d drop by and see what was going on underground. Sorry for nudging you, I just wanted to get your attention.”
The ghost wobbled a bit, and gave a small smile. “It’s alright. Would...you like to see something?”
“Sure.”
Napstablook began crying again, though the tears flowed up this time, forming into a hat shape.
“I call it ‘dapper blook’ Do you like it…?”
Arthur gave Napstablook a thumbs up. “Yeah, it’s really cool.”
“Oooh...thank you. I worked really hard on that trick. Well, I should get going. My break’s over and I need to head back to the farm.”
“Wait! Have you seen a small white dog anywhere?”
“Ohh... a dog ran through here a few minutes ago…. It had something really shiny. Was it yours?”
“Yeah. I need to get that locket back.”
“I’m sorry…. I should have tried to catch it...ohh….”
“It’s fine. You couldn’t have known.”
Napstablook still looked a bit down. They turned to leave. “You should see it if you follow the left path. Bye….” With that, Napstablook disappeared.
Okay then. Forward march.
___
Several puzzles, not-entirely-fights, and many (many) holes later. Arthur found himself in front of a barren tree. It was surrounded by crisp red leaves, and the area had a smell that made him think of autumn.
Anytime this old tree grows leaves, they fall right off…
Better that than the weird mustard smell the froggits left behind.
There was Toriel walking up from beyond the tree. She started to put a phone to her ear before noticing Arthur. He gave a sheepish wave.
“Oh! Arthur, I thought you were still waiting. Are you hurt?” She gave him another once over, noting the scrapes and bumps he’d gotten from some of the monsters on the way. “Nothing serious, but still, I’ll heal you.”
“I’m fine, really. Have you seen a white dog anywhere? It took something important.”
Toriel paused for a moment. “Actually, that was one reason I took so long. A puppy stole my phone, and I had to get it back.”
“Did it have a locket?” Please please please…
“It did, but I wasn’t able to get it. I’m sorry.”
Arthur groaned, there went that idea.
“Although, it was strange, but... it seemed to run toward my house before I lost sight of it.”
“Is there anywhere it could have gone?” Arthur rubbed his prosthetic. He needed to know what that ghost wanted with him.
“I suppose… but it has probably gotten away by now. I am sorry Arthur. But! I have a surprise. Come with me.”
She took his hand and led him up to a neat little house, made of the same purple-lit stone as the rest of ruins, fronted by a carpeting of red leaves on either side of the door. There was a sweet smell wafting from inside that made Arthur’s stomach rumble. When had he last eaten? Breakfast, whenever that was. Several hours at least.
The inside was tidy, and decorated in a soft yellow. A set of downward stairs across from the door. There were pots of cattails, about. Interesting choice…
“Do you smell that?” Toriel said. “Surprise! It is a butterscotch-cinnamon pie. I thought we might celebrate your arrival.”
Arthur had had butterscotch meringue pie, but he’d never even heard of butterscotch-cinnamon pie. Still, he wasn’t about to complain about free food.
Toriel continued speaking. “I want you to have a nice time living here. So I will hold off on snail pie for tonight.”
Something about what she was saying set off warning bells in Arthur’s head. Was it just the snails? He liked oysters, but he’d never had snails. He was cautiously curious.
“I have another surprise for you, as well. Come along.” She led him down a hallway and stopped at the first door. “A room of your own. I hope you like it! You are a bit older than my usual guests….”
She patted his shoulder, before pausing. “Is something burning? Um, make yourself at home!”
Arthur watched her go with a bemused look. She almost seemed like she expected him to stay here. That wasn’t happening; he needed to get back and make sure Vivi and Mystery were alright. Needed to find Lewis.
Knowing you’ll get back to your friends, it fills you with determination. But is it enough?
Still, he could at least check out the room.
The room was done in a soft reddish color, lit by a lamp in the corner. There were children’s toys piled in a box at the foot of comfy looking bed. He couldn’t help smiling at the Transformers. He’d loved those as a kid! There seemed to be a music box playing a soft tune somewhere. Arthur began to feel drowsy.
It’d been a long day. Falling down who knew how many holes and trying to survive monster attacks. His feet ached, and with the music box, his eyes began to droop.
You should take a nap. You won’t be any good to anyone if you’re dead on your feet.
Arthur sat on the bed and kicked his shoes off. He could still smell that pie. Maybe he should close his eyes for a few minutes…. Then he’d ask Toriel about a way home.
He was dead to the world before his head even hit the pillow.
____
“Guys? Do you really think going in there is a good idea?” Arthur asked as he stared up at the fang-like stalactites at the entrance to the cave. Greenish fog seemed to ooze out and around it. Seriously, how could there be green fog here?
The cave had been a haunted tour type thing a few decades back, before it had been condemned. A few too many accidents and at least one murder on site, according to Vivi’s research.
There had been reports of strange sounds and lights in the area for the past couple of weeks. As well as a possible link to a recent disappearance.
Vivi, of course, just had to check it out.
Lewis glanced back at him. “It’ll be fine, Arthur, we’ve done stuff like this a million times before.”
Vivi, looked at him with concern, she was holding Lewis’ hand. “Are you okay Arthur? You’ve been awfully quiet tonight. If you’re that worried, you can wait in the van; it’s fine.”
Arthur didn’t really like the idea of waiting alone in the van in the dark, either. If he had to be somewhere uncomfortable, he could at least be uncomfortable with his friends nearby.
Arthur followed them as they went into the cave, chills creeping down his spine. He couldn’t help moving closer to Lewis, practically cowering behind him as bats flew and screeched above. It smelled of damp. There was a buzzing in his ears. Their shadows twisted and writhed in the light of Lewis’ torch.
There was a fork in the path.
“Hey, Arthur, let’s take this way. You alright taking Mystery, Vivi?”
Vivi gave a jaunty salute. “Of course! C’mon boy! To adventure!” She marched down the right path, Mystery trailing behind her.
The buzzing was louder, numbing Arthur's mind and making his ears itch. The green fog seemed to glow.
The path wound upwards like a serpent’s spine, Arthur clinging to Lewis more than once as he tripped and stumbled his way over the rock strewn path. This didn’t feel right. They shouldn’t be here. Something was going to go wrong.
There was a ledge overlooking a forest of stalagmites, trails of green fog flowing between them.
Arthur’s hand felt numb and he couldn’t stop himself from surging forward, reaching for Lewis. Arthur’s cheeks hurt from trying to grin and scream at the same time.
Arthur was falling! Had he slipped off the ledge? He was going to die, a spike through his chest just like-
There was a patch of golden flowers. There was a child in a striped shirt.
Here! Have a really short story I wrote a couple years ago, but still really like!
Deacon, most loyal servant of soon-to-be Dark Empress Melanie, stared at the list on his phone, at the sprawling aisles of the Wal-Mart, filled with the morning’s shoppers, and back again.
12 black taper candles
1 container salt
1 container chicken blood
1 container coffee, extra dark
Thanks a bunch, your dark and terrible queen ;)
He smiled, hoped fifteen dollars was enough; money was a bit tight this week.
Shadowy organizations bent on world domination didn’t fund themselves; they needed a sponsor.
A greeter waved at him with a painful smile that distinctly said, “I’d as soon kill you as shake your hand I’m so tired.” Deacon related, working nights at McDonald’s typically meant he wanted to stab straws in his customer’s eyes by the end of his shift. Perhaps feed them to whatever eldritch entity Melanie was negotiating with.
He made his way through the store, the air humming with conversation and the squeaks and rattles of carts, to the party supplies and picked up the candles first.
Maybe he could get a sewing kit to fix his shirt for tomorrow, too? They were just in the next aisle.
He meandered over in his rumpled sweats, giving a jaw-cracking yawn, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He stopped, blinked. Where was his focus? The little ruby pendant wasn’t in his pocket. Damn, he must have forgotten it.
He grabbed a kit and moved for the foodstuffs. The smell of spices: cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, became apparent as he headed for the seasoning aisle.
He slipped on a puddle, pin-wheeling his arms as he tried to keep hold of his items. Falling on his ass, he heard his phone clatter out of his pocket.
Staggering with an aching backside, Deacon stood, turned to find his phone in the hands of a red-haired man in a white button up shirt and khakis. He was looking at the screen and scowling as he handed it to Deacon. “Here sir, you dropped this.”
The man looked up and Deacon almost groaned. It was that goody hero, Kenneth. The two stared at each other for a moment. Their battle on top of the university library two weeks ago flashed through Deacon’s mind, reminding him of the loss of his favorite robe to Kenneth’s fireball.
It had been a gift from his granny, thick and made of red velvet. Now it was ash. Deacon’s eye twitched.
“You!” Kenneth took a stance, brandishing a bottle of vanilla. “Foul servant of evil! What heinous ritual are you planning?” He charged.
Deacon dashed forward and dodged around Kenneth into the spice aisle, grabbing a container of salt as he passed.
Time for a spell? Not without his focus. He’d need to use his blood.
Deacon huffed as he peeled the sticker from the sewing kit’s box. He heard the smack of sneakers on linoleum behind him as he ran for the coffee aisle, shoving the candles under his arm. ‘Should’ve grabbed a basket.’
“Fight like a man!” Kenneth yelled. Deacon stumbled and cursed when the bottle of vanilla hit him in the head. He pried the box open, grabbed a needle, and shoved the box into his pocket.
Sliding around the corner, Deacon grabbed and threw a bottle of flavoring syrup at his pursuer. He grabbed the coffee, ran for the butcher’s.
A yell and Deacon barely ducked as a bolt of lightning flew overhead.
‘Idiot! Being that flashy around people!’ Speaking of which, there was a mother holding her child’s hand in front of him.
Deacon dropped to slide under their hands as they gaped.
Rolling to his feet, Deacon was aware of stares. He turned to see Kenneth dodging around the mother and child. Pricking his finger, muttering a harsh word, he flicked a drop of blood towards Kenneth.
The hero gave a strangled cry as he fell, his shoelaces tied together. Deacon dashed to butcher counter. “Chicken blood, please.”
The man behind the counter stared a moment, before slowly turning and getting a container. Deacon tugged his ponytail as he waited. He snatched the blood and ran for the checkout as he heard Kenneth dashing up behind him. ‘Dammit, I’m not doing anything!’
Deacon tumbled to a stop in front of the gaping cashier, dropped the items and the fifteen dollars on the belt, and turned, tired, glaring. Another harsh word, several drops of blood, the hero gave a strangled cry and collapsed, snared in shadowy chains a few yards away. “I will stop your scheme villain!”
“Your receipt, sir,” the cashier whimpered, just before fainting.
Victory. Deacon hummed as he carried the groceries to the bus stop, taking a deep breath of cool autumn air.
Then shrieked as he was tackled from behind and hit the ground.
Kenneth leapt over him, dumped the bag. His foot came down on the chicken blood, candles, salt. “You will not succeed today, fiend.” He turned and swaggered away.
Deacon stared down at the blood pooling on the tarmac, the busted salt container, the snapped candlesticks. There would be no candlelit anniversary dinner with his beloved dark queen tomorrow. The coffee was still safe though; at least they still had an offering for the ritual.
Yay! I’ve managed to make progress on ‘Funhouse Mirrors’! Just four more pages before I reach my minimum ten pages for a chapter. After months of nothing.
