Encounterlogs
Ashs Odd Encounter Sr Roger 240920
Ash's journey on South Sheriff's Run begins with frustration as their phone's constant recalculations lead them nowhere, trapping them in an eerie loop amidst the sinister shadows of the overhanging trees. It is the unexpected alert about the missing Miss Le'Chance, a guest of the wealthy Wilsons, that snaps Ash out of their zombie-like state and spurs them into action. Despite the drowning influence of the ocean's edge making it difficult to track by scent, Ash’s determination remains unshaken. They find themselves puzzled over how to locate Miss Le'Chance without any clear leads—until a breakthrough occurs upon realizing that shared information on MyHaven chats might hold the key to unraveling her whereabouts, albeit clouded by the community's less than helpful fascination with cat GIFs.
The narrative takes an intriguing turn when Ash encounters a cadre of wolves and subsequently, a mysterious hissing presence atop a tree, setting the stage for a critical discovery. The formidable creature revealed to be a dire-kitten in a beret—none other than Miss Le'Chance herself, transformed. Ash’s approach to earning the dire-kitten's trust, through recognizing feline royalty and offering a sizable fish, is successful, leading to a goofy yet triumphant march back to town. Even as they navigate the awkwardness of being adorned by a cat-as-a-hat, Ash's dedication pays off. Upon returning Miss Le'Chance to her handlers, Ash faces accusations of theft, but the situation soon resolves, solidifying their standing with the overseers and adding a layer of irony to their accomplishment. Through cunning and adaptation, Ash overcomes the peculiar challenges of Haven, securing a bizarre yet noteworthy victory in the ever-mystifying town.
(Ash's odd encounter(SRRoger):SRRoger)
[Thu Sep 19 2024]
On South Sheriff's Run
This packed-earth road runs south of the crossroads at the south end of Haven, cutting into the forest. As it runs south, the trees overhang it, leaving it in sinister shadows that obscure the worn track.
It is dawn, about 62F(16C) degrees,
(Your target's been contacted to help find a civilian who's become lost in the woods.
)
Ash looks like they've been walking for ours, sloshing through the water, staring at their phone as a tinny female voice goes, "Recalculating... recalculating... recalculating." They seem tempted to yeet their phone into the ocean - but poor Hello Kitty doesn't deserve it, truly. Also, phone costs money, and they already did their allotted splurge for the month. So, instead, they march through streets vaguely familiar but, for the Haven implant, not familiar enough.
The ocean's edge feels closer now, the sound of the waves lapping at the shore a persistent backdrop to the increasingly aimless march. The streets here carry that same familiarity, a hint of recognition just out of reach, made worse by the endless recalculations echoing from the phone. Haven's streets, as always, seem to have a mind of their own, their layout seeming to shifting and coil like a terrible serpent.
Soggy feet, and a near useless phone are Ash's only companion as they slog through the early dawn, coils of light starting to rise over the horizon and illuminate the road that they've been walking. For what feels like hours. Maybe it has been hours. Maybe this is Ash's own personal hell, or purgatory, maybe they've fallen into another fae's trap. Ensnared without knowing, and doomed to wander this earth until they die of exposure or hung-
BEEP BEEP
Their obnoxious phone buzzes.
line GUEST OF THE WILSONS, MISS LE'CHANCE MISSING. LAST SEEN SOUTH SHERIFF RUN. ALERT.
A message, and an opportunity is broadcast to the supernatural community of Haven.
Ash almost swipes it away with a long brown thumb, then pauses. Sheriff Run... Sheriff Run. Why does that sound familiar? Their head tilts slightly, long gray dreads clanking slightly, hollow wood against fellow bead, as their brain tries to wake itself up, and chase after the association. Why does that - oh. That's the street they're on.
Fortunately, no one is there to witness their zombie brain stumbling on the obvious. And the embarrassment, coupled with the rising sun, is better than coffee for Ashen Starling this morning. More alert now, they bring their supernatural senses to bear. More importantly, smell. Their nose twitches like a fox's as they sniff the air for a female scent.
The scent of the sea, once only a backdrop, sharpens as the wind shifts ever so slightly, and Ash twitches their twee little fox nose. It is hard to make out any scents other than the stinging salt of the bleeding ocean. With the gate magic enhanced tide reading this far out into Haven. Unfortunately it seems like this isn't going to be the sort of problem that the enby can solve with a wrinkle of their nose.
The water about their ankles continues to eb and flow in gentle motions, making it even harder yet to see where the road ends and the forest truly begins - except, of course, there are no trees on the road. So maybe it isn't that hard in hindsight.
Ash seems irritated. They love scents, and often rely more on scent more than sight. They have gone from a fear and hatred of the water to adoration and fondness for it. And in both of those loves comes a crisis, here. The water makes it hard to smell, it washes away scents. It makes the world feel empty, and therefore, more alone. Not that Ash minds being alone... most of the time.
They look around, pulling off their sunglasses, looking exasperated. How else would they find someone in this situation? Their eyes look over the road - footprints wash away with the tide. Their hazel orbs look more green than gold over the trees, as well... but what should they expect, a moving figure in the woods? Chances are, it would be a monster as much as a human.
They look up the name on their phone. Perhaps this person is distinguished enough to stand out, or the broadcast included... any information on her, besides her last name and the suggestion of gender. Not that they're really expecting it... unreasonable expectations with minimal tools are as common in Haven as kidnapping and monsters.
As ever, the overflowing sea continues its rhythmic advance, indifferent to the search, indifferent to Ash's efforts, erasing the past and the present with every wave. The world feels emptier by the second, as though the ocean itself is swallowing every clue, every chance of finding the person they seek. Alone here, in the space between land and water, there is only the endless hiss of the tide and the vast, growing sense that, once again, Haven has more questions than answers.
Well, there is the Hello Kitty phone as well. And while this buzzing, chiming device was entirely unable to assist Ash in escaping their sisyphean efforts to try and escape the loops, and swirls of Haven's menacing roads, there is at least information to be found on the subject of this search. The MyHaven chats, at least those for the aware, are pinging and dinging with information and chats, as others begin their search as well. The fact that she was a guest of the Wilsons, one of the most wealthy if not /the/ most wealthy families in the town, seems to be enough motivation to get a lot of folk out of the wood work. As for Le'Chance? Well, there seems to be a consensus that she is:
A) French.
B) Missing.
C) Hot.
Which is say, that the other members of the aware MyHaven community are largely useless. There have been a number of cat gifs posted as well though, whether that is a clue or not remains to be seen. (It is.)
Ash tilts their head, listening. Will a soft tinkling of cat collar bells grace their ears? Perhaps the soft cries of a woman, alone and lost? There's not much for it, as they start moving again. At least, they keep their motions controlled so as not to splash so much. Quiet, practically shuffling, as they keep one eye on their phone, the other on their surroundings.
Not at the same time! They are glancing at their phone with furrowed gray brows on smooth brown skin, then casting those hazel eyes around as they try and catch hints and snatches of any movement or clue. They seem unsure of what they can do but walk, and hope-
Hope to get lucky enough to find them? Why hope? They glance up - not that the motion is necessary, but it's helpful. Reaching out (again, not necessary), they run their fingers along figurative lines of fate, looking for - yes. That one *feels* right. They tug it, pull it, readjust and settle it until it's just right. Yes, there... why wait to be lucky when you can *make* yourself lucky?
There's nothing to glean, at first, at least, as Ash puts their preternatural senses to work, well, nothing more than the eb and flow of the water beneath them. A direction is chosen, and they head off in it, marching through the newly soggy areas, and checking their phone.
That thread of luck is plucked, and pulled, and twisted and manipulated by the arcanist, as they force reality to bend to whim, even if it were in a rather minor way - Lucky, then, that they were so close to a particularly large tree as the splashing sound of many feet cut through the space about them, revealing, of all things, a cadre of wolves darting through the early night, further into the forest, and just passing by Ash. Their maw's bloody and wet with the blood of their victims during what must have been an eventful night.
Ash blinks, stopping short, watching the pack move in the morning light of dawn, nose flaring at the sight of blood. Their eyes, sliding a bit more golden as their pupils widen, follow the wolves, trying to make out any details without moving or attracting attention. These are not *their* wolves... and so they simply watch until the coast is clear to continue.
This bodes ill for Miss Le'Chance, but the wolves were always a possible threat.
They are definitely not Ash's wolves. This is true. The beasts dart past the enby, as the water serves to protect them for a change, rather than just frustrate their attempts to find Miss Le'Chance.
Ash isn't the only one watching the wolves, however, and there's a shuffle in the branches above their head, and then a low, throaty hiss as an unseen figure lets their disapproval be known as well.
Ash turns their head up, curious - if not cautious - about what person or *creature* may be waiting. Do they hope it's a cat? Of course they do. But this is Haven... one should never assume or guess. And they know, rather personally, that even fluffy, adorable cats can be cruel, dangerous, and deadly.
Even if they're fond of the type.
Whatever it is above Ash It's hard to make out from here. There is certainly fur that can be seen through the branches, limbs and leaf cover of the tree, but more detail than that? It's hard to glean. The fur itself is a grayish blue sort of colour.
There's another low hiss from above.
Ash steps a bit closer, squinting carefully as they try to make out the creature up there - and whether it matches any of the gifs shown in the chat. Although gifs can be as easily pulled from Giphy as they are are from video clips of the subject matter... more likely, even. They hold up their Hello Kitty phone as they try to find a spot where they can take a picture... though they still show caution. Just like a fae to pretend to be a missing cat, isn't it?
That warning hiss grows louder yet, and then there's a sudden flurry of motion as a terrifying creature comes into view. It barrels down the trunk of the tree, closer toward Ash as it hisses at him, showing off it's sharp, deadly, fangs, and waving a clawed paw down at them.
Terrifying.
It's a kitten.
It's wearing a beret.
It has very thick, blue-grey fur, but doesn't quite match anything found on Earth. Those fangs are just a little too long, it's paws a bit too big. It's eyes too intelligent. In fact, if Ash has spent anytime at all with Korina's pet, Asad, they may just recognize the dire-cat kitten for what she is.
Ash knows that this is it - this is the moment of truth. They're glad that they spent more time around felines than wolves today, but they know that between water, and the mercurial nature of cats, this may mean nothing here. They're not a Disney Princess sort of faeborn, sadly, and they don't generally commune with animals as they do humans... they're more of a plant fae. So, this won't be as easy as scooping up a cat with cooing sounds.
First, sending the image, and a geography pin. They have found the target, and it's here. That way, they can come and pick her up. But second... is ensuring that the target remains here for them to do that.
Ash lowers themself, slowly, carefully, disregarding that their pants will get wet - wet is life, these days, and their torso is dry. From what they know of Korina and Asad, there's a few things they must do.
One, recognize majesty when you see it. Royalty is within all felines, and they adjust their stand to suggest that. Two, all others are but servants, and so Ash kneels, as one who is here only to serve. And three... the offering.
They pull from within their bag... another bag. And from within this bag, they pull out... a bundle, wrapped in plastic. Yes... Le'Chance can surely smell it now. And from within this bundle, slowly unveiled, and held out in offering to the feline... is a tautog. Also known as a black porgy, blackfish or a chub. A juicy 5 pound, 2.5 foot fish, of exceptional size and weight, clearly caught by a master fisherman... or fisherwoman.
A gift fit for royalty.
Another low sound escapes the beastie as her nostrils flare, and eyes narrow. There's less of a warning in the tone this time, and something closer to approval. Good. Unlike those smelly, gross and base dogs, Ash at least knows their place. And they've brought food.
Their little nose wiggles again, drawing in the scent of the fish, and they start to creep down the trunk of the tree. Shifting from branch to branch as they get closer, and closer yet, until with a sudden agility they leap straight from the bark and land atop Ash's head, claws catching onto their locks.
The dire-kitten starts to make biscuits, kneading at Ash's scalp with the careless application of their nails as they lean closer to the offered prize, and start to lap at it with their sandpaper tongue, shredding away meat and skin from the fish with soft little purrs.
Ash winces only slightly, raising the fish so that it's in easy reach of the dire-kitty as they allow the kitten to feast. Fortunately, Ash has enough mastery of their body to, after waiting to ensure that the young cat is quite comfortable, slowly rise without losing balance, and head carefully back towards town.
Do they look goofy? Is that even a question? Fortunately, Ash is not above goofiness. Not with their bloodline, anyways.
Goofy? While wearing a cat as a hat? A cat as a hat that is in turn wearing it's own beret? No. Not at all. Ash is looking majestic.
Miss Le'Chance continues to knead and scratch at their scalp all the while, providing constant feedback to their newest member of staff as they make their way back into the town. She doesn't stop. There are chirps, and hisses, and purrs. Like she thinks she is actually having a conversation.
Eventually, Ash manages to meet up with her handlers, where they are rewarded for their hard work with an accusation that they'd stolen the dire-kitty in the first place. Eventually this is settled, however, and Ash manages to earn some good person points with their overseers. Ironic, in a way.
The narrative takes an intriguing turn when Ash encounters a cadre of wolves and subsequently, a mysterious hissing presence atop a tree, setting the stage for a critical discovery. The formidable creature revealed to be a dire-kitten in a beret—none other than Miss Le'Chance herself, transformed. Ash’s approach to earning the dire-kitten's trust, through recognizing feline royalty and offering a sizable fish, is successful, leading to a goofy yet triumphant march back to town. Even as they navigate the awkwardness of being adorned by a cat-as-a-hat, Ash's dedication pays off. Upon returning Miss Le'Chance to her handlers, Ash faces accusations of theft, but the situation soon resolves, solidifying their standing with the overseers and adding a layer of irony to their accomplishment. Through cunning and adaptation, Ash overcomes the peculiar challenges of Haven, securing a bizarre yet noteworthy victory in the ever-mystifying town.
(Ash's odd encounter(SRRoger):SRRoger)
[Thu Sep 19 2024]
On South Sheriff's Run
This packed-earth road runs south of the crossroads at the south end of Haven, cutting into the forest. As it runs south, the trees overhang it, leaving it in sinister shadows that obscure the worn track.
It is dawn, about 62F(16C) degrees,
(Your target's been contacted to help find a civilian who's become lost in the woods.
)
Ash looks like they've been walking for ours, sloshing through the water, staring at their phone as a tinny female voice goes, "Recalculating... recalculating... recalculating." They seem tempted to yeet their phone into the ocean - but poor Hello Kitty doesn't deserve it, truly. Also, phone costs money, and they already did their allotted splurge for the month. So, instead, they march through streets vaguely familiar but, for the Haven implant, not familiar enough.
The ocean's edge feels closer now, the sound of the waves lapping at the shore a persistent backdrop to the increasingly aimless march. The streets here carry that same familiarity, a hint of recognition just out of reach, made worse by the endless recalculations echoing from the phone. Haven's streets, as always, seem to have a mind of their own, their layout seeming to shifting and coil like a terrible serpent.
Soggy feet, and a near useless phone are Ash's only companion as they slog through the early dawn, coils of light starting to rise over the horizon and illuminate the road that they've been walking. For what feels like hours. Maybe it has been hours. Maybe this is Ash's own personal hell, or purgatory, maybe they've fallen into another fae's trap. Ensnared without knowing, and doomed to wander this earth until they die of exposure or hung-
BEEP BEEP
Their obnoxious phone buzzes.
line GUEST OF THE WILSONS, MISS LE'CHANCE MISSING. LAST SEEN SOUTH SHERIFF RUN. ALERT.
A message, and an opportunity is broadcast to the supernatural community of Haven.
Ash almost swipes it away with a long brown thumb, then pauses. Sheriff Run... Sheriff Run. Why does that sound familiar? Their head tilts slightly, long gray dreads clanking slightly, hollow wood against fellow bead, as their brain tries to wake itself up, and chase after the association. Why does that - oh. That's the street they're on.
Fortunately, no one is there to witness their zombie brain stumbling on the obvious. And the embarrassment, coupled with the rising sun, is better than coffee for Ashen Starling this morning. More alert now, they bring their supernatural senses to bear. More importantly, smell. Their nose twitches like a fox's as they sniff the air for a female scent.
The scent of the sea, once only a backdrop, sharpens as the wind shifts ever so slightly, and Ash twitches their twee little fox nose. It is hard to make out any scents other than the stinging salt of the bleeding ocean. With the gate magic enhanced tide reading this far out into Haven. Unfortunately it seems like this isn't going to be the sort of problem that the enby can solve with a wrinkle of their nose.
The water about their ankles continues to eb and flow in gentle motions, making it even harder yet to see where the road ends and the forest truly begins - except, of course, there are no trees on the road. So maybe it isn't that hard in hindsight.
Ash seems irritated. They love scents, and often rely more on scent more than sight. They have gone from a fear and hatred of the water to adoration and fondness for it. And in both of those loves comes a crisis, here. The water makes it hard to smell, it washes away scents. It makes the world feel empty, and therefore, more alone. Not that Ash minds being alone... most of the time.
They look around, pulling off their sunglasses, looking exasperated. How else would they find someone in this situation? Their eyes look over the road - footprints wash away with the tide. Their hazel orbs look more green than gold over the trees, as well... but what should they expect, a moving figure in the woods? Chances are, it would be a monster as much as a human.
They look up the name on their phone. Perhaps this person is distinguished enough to stand out, or the broadcast included... any information on her, besides her last name and the suggestion of gender. Not that they're really expecting it... unreasonable expectations with minimal tools are as common in Haven as kidnapping and monsters.
As ever, the overflowing sea continues its rhythmic advance, indifferent to the search, indifferent to Ash's efforts, erasing the past and the present with every wave. The world feels emptier by the second, as though the ocean itself is swallowing every clue, every chance of finding the person they seek. Alone here, in the space between land and water, there is only the endless hiss of the tide and the vast, growing sense that, once again, Haven has more questions than answers.
Well, there is the Hello Kitty phone as well. And while this buzzing, chiming device was entirely unable to assist Ash in escaping their sisyphean efforts to try and escape the loops, and swirls of Haven's menacing roads, there is at least information to be found on the subject of this search. The MyHaven chats, at least those for the aware, are pinging and dinging with information and chats, as others begin their search as well. The fact that she was a guest of the Wilsons, one of the most wealthy if not /the/ most wealthy families in the town, seems to be enough motivation to get a lot of folk out of the wood work. As for Le'Chance? Well, there seems to be a consensus that she is:
A) French.
B) Missing.
C) Hot.
Which is say, that the other members of the aware MyHaven community are largely useless. There have been a number of cat gifs posted as well though, whether that is a clue or not remains to be seen. (It is.)
Ash tilts their head, listening. Will a soft tinkling of cat collar bells grace their ears? Perhaps the soft cries of a woman, alone and lost? There's not much for it, as they start moving again. At least, they keep their motions controlled so as not to splash so much. Quiet, practically shuffling, as they keep one eye on their phone, the other on their surroundings.
Not at the same time! They are glancing at their phone with furrowed gray brows on smooth brown skin, then casting those hazel eyes around as they try and catch hints and snatches of any movement or clue. They seem unsure of what they can do but walk, and hope-
Hope to get lucky enough to find them? Why hope? They glance up - not that the motion is necessary, but it's helpful. Reaching out (again, not necessary), they run their fingers along figurative lines of fate, looking for - yes. That one *feels* right. They tug it, pull it, readjust and settle it until it's just right. Yes, there... why wait to be lucky when you can *make* yourself lucky?
There's nothing to glean, at first, at least, as Ash puts their preternatural senses to work, well, nothing more than the eb and flow of the water beneath them. A direction is chosen, and they head off in it, marching through the newly soggy areas, and checking their phone.
That thread of luck is plucked, and pulled, and twisted and manipulated by the arcanist, as they force reality to bend to whim, even if it were in a rather minor way - Lucky, then, that they were so close to a particularly large tree as the splashing sound of many feet cut through the space about them, revealing, of all things, a cadre of wolves darting through the early night, further into the forest, and just passing by Ash. Their maw's bloody and wet with the blood of their victims during what must have been an eventful night.
Ash blinks, stopping short, watching the pack move in the morning light of dawn, nose flaring at the sight of blood. Their eyes, sliding a bit more golden as their pupils widen, follow the wolves, trying to make out any details without moving or attracting attention. These are not *their* wolves... and so they simply watch until the coast is clear to continue.
This bodes ill for Miss Le'Chance, but the wolves were always a possible threat.
They are definitely not Ash's wolves. This is true. The beasts dart past the enby, as the water serves to protect them for a change, rather than just frustrate their attempts to find Miss Le'Chance.
Ash isn't the only one watching the wolves, however, and there's a shuffle in the branches above their head, and then a low, throaty hiss as an unseen figure lets their disapproval be known as well.
Ash turns their head up, curious - if not cautious - about what person or *creature* may be waiting. Do they hope it's a cat? Of course they do. But this is Haven... one should never assume or guess. And they know, rather personally, that even fluffy, adorable cats can be cruel, dangerous, and deadly.
Even if they're fond of the type.
Whatever it is above Ash It's hard to make out from here. There is certainly fur that can be seen through the branches, limbs and leaf cover of the tree, but more detail than that? It's hard to glean. The fur itself is a grayish blue sort of colour.
There's another low hiss from above.
Ash steps a bit closer, squinting carefully as they try to make out the creature up there - and whether it matches any of the gifs shown in the chat. Although gifs can be as easily pulled from Giphy as they are are from video clips of the subject matter... more likely, even. They hold up their Hello Kitty phone as they try to find a spot where they can take a picture... though they still show caution. Just like a fae to pretend to be a missing cat, isn't it?
That warning hiss grows louder yet, and then there's a sudden flurry of motion as a terrifying creature comes into view. It barrels down the trunk of the tree, closer toward Ash as it hisses at him, showing off it's sharp, deadly, fangs, and waving a clawed paw down at them.
Terrifying.
It's a kitten.
It's wearing a beret.
It has very thick, blue-grey fur, but doesn't quite match anything found on Earth. Those fangs are just a little too long, it's paws a bit too big. It's eyes too intelligent. In fact, if Ash has spent anytime at all with Korina's pet, Asad, they may just recognize the dire-cat kitten for what she is.
Ash knows that this is it - this is the moment of truth. They're glad that they spent more time around felines than wolves today, but they know that between water, and the mercurial nature of cats, this may mean nothing here. They're not a Disney Princess sort of faeborn, sadly, and they don't generally commune with animals as they do humans... they're more of a plant fae. So, this won't be as easy as scooping up a cat with cooing sounds.
First, sending the image, and a geography pin. They have found the target, and it's here. That way, they can come and pick her up. But second... is ensuring that the target remains here for them to do that.
Ash lowers themself, slowly, carefully, disregarding that their pants will get wet - wet is life, these days, and their torso is dry. From what they know of Korina and Asad, there's a few things they must do.
One, recognize majesty when you see it. Royalty is within all felines, and they adjust their stand to suggest that. Two, all others are but servants, and so Ash kneels, as one who is here only to serve. And three... the offering.
They pull from within their bag... another bag. And from within this bag, they pull out... a bundle, wrapped in plastic. Yes... Le'Chance can surely smell it now. And from within this bundle, slowly unveiled, and held out in offering to the feline... is a tautog. Also known as a black porgy, blackfish or a chub. A juicy 5 pound, 2.5 foot fish, of exceptional size and weight, clearly caught by a master fisherman... or fisherwoman.
A gift fit for royalty.
Another low sound escapes the beastie as her nostrils flare, and eyes narrow. There's less of a warning in the tone this time, and something closer to approval. Good. Unlike those smelly, gross and base dogs, Ash at least knows their place. And they've brought food.
Their little nose wiggles again, drawing in the scent of the fish, and they start to creep down the trunk of the tree. Shifting from branch to branch as they get closer, and closer yet, until with a sudden agility they leap straight from the bark and land atop Ash's head, claws catching onto their locks.
The dire-kitten starts to make biscuits, kneading at Ash's scalp with the careless application of their nails as they lean closer to the offered prize, and start to lap at it with their sandpaper tongue, shredding away meat and skin from the fish with soft little purrs.
Ash winces only slightly, raising the fish so that it's in easy reach of the dire-kitty as they allow the kitten to feast. Fortunately, Ash has enough mastery of their body to, after waiting to ensure that the young cat is quite comfortable, slowly rise without losing balance, and head carefully back towards town.
Do they look goofy? Is that even a question? Fortunately, Ash is not above goofiness. Not with their bloodline, anyways.
Goofy? While wearing a cat as a hat? A cat as a hat that is in turn wearing it's own beret? No. Not at all. Ash is looking majestic.
Miss Le'Chance continues to knead and scratch at their scalp all the while, providing constant feedback to their newest member of staff as they make their way back into the town. She doesn't stop. There are chirps, and hisses, and purrs. Like she thinks she is actually having a conversation.
Eventually, Ash manages to meet up with her handlers, where they are rewarded for their hard work with an accusation that they'd stolen the dire-kitty in the first place. Eventually this is settled, however, and Ash manages to earn some good person points with their overseers. Ironic, in a way.