The office of Cardinal Ortiz was usually a very quiet place. While the choir in the Basilica above sang every day, the sound of their voices was not strong enough to carry through the many layers of stone between them and the grand series of underground vaults that formed the basement where his office was located. Ortiz liked it that way anyways, since most anything could distract him from his paperwork.

 

Serving God was not a tireless job, but it was a tedious one. Men would always need to be reminded of their duties, monsters would always be creeping on the edges of society, the powerful would always be greedy for more, and everything would lead to more paperwork.

 

Finding that it was running low again, he dipped his pen once, twice, and then wiped the nib clear of drips. Ink and paper really was the backbone of the church, as it was for any modern society.

 

Ortiz thought it strange that he was still writing the same records as he had when he was an ordinary priest, but he didn’t exactly mind it. Cardinaldom was an intensely social job, after all; and it was nice to have regular breaks from it.

 

Still, there was a bit of a nagging feeling in Alphonse Ortiz’s head that told him that something fishy was going on. Half-suspicion and half-disappointment suggested to him that his new position as a redcoat wasn’t being treated as seriously as it should have been, and he hadn’t the faintest clue why.

 

He was well liked, as far as he could tell. He would even have the position if he wasn’t, right? 

He held no controversial ideas, nor kept the company of those who did; and had shown himself as a loyal and passionate clergyman for dozens of years.

 

Perhaps that still wasn’t long enough? 

As the newest cardinal, he was the youngest member of the order at just 56; but that was far from the youngest on record.

 

As he signed another page and turned it over, a small sigh escaped his lips.

He wasn’t expecting a reward for his service of course. That would come in time with his ascension to heaven. No, his dissatisfaction came with the lack of grandeur of it all.

 

The same basilica, the same audience, the same books.

The same bloody paperwork.

Was this really all there was to being influential to his faith?

 

The tapping of shoes on the stone floor suddenly became audible, starting quietly but growing until it was right outside his office door.

A knockin followed, but before Ortiz could answer it the person responsible began to speak of their own accord.

 

“Bish- I mean Cardinal!” The soft voice of Sister Elan blurted out much more frantically than Ortiz  was used to. “You need to come to the altar at once!”

 

“At least open the bloody door before you speak, sister.” The cardinal said sternly, rising from his seat. “And calm down.”

 

Sister Elan pushed the door to his office open and stepped through, fidgeting in a way that suggested she had something she couldn’t wait to say.

 

“Well? Speak.” Ortiz barked. “If this is really as urgent as you make it out to be, you needn’t worry about manners.”

 

“It’s the idol!” She blurted out the second Ortiz had closed his mouth. “The eye is broken!”

 

Ortiz stood in disbelief for a few moments.

 

“You mean the big one behind the altar?” He asked. “Did someone knock it down while attempting to polish it?”

 

“No, no!” the nun exclaimed, shaking her head quickly. “It just shattered into a million pieces in the middle of the choir practicing ‘Le Frère Afamé’! Brother Seandor screamed loud enough to make the guards come running!”

 

Cardinal Ortiz’s first instinct was not to believe the young sister, but he also knew that she had not proven herself to be a liar. He placed down his pen at once and left his desk, conversing with Elan as he moved.

 

“Has anyone been hurt?” He asked, Elan taking a step backwards so that Ortiz could exit the room.

 

“No, fragments of the eye only fell as far as the altar and it was empty at the time.” Elan said. “But the masses have descended into disarray.”

 

“Don’t worry sister, I will get them under control.” Ortiz reassured her as the two of them climbed up a flight of stairs into the foundation of the cathedral.

 

“Many of them think that it’s a sign of the Dissension, Cardinal. And I’m frankly not one to disagree.” The nun said shakily.

 

“I highly doubt it.” Ortiz said, climbing another flight of stairs. “But if that is the case then there isn’t much that you or I could do about it. I think it would be best for us to keep a level head for now.”

 

“Ha… right…” Elan said, not sounding too sure of herself.

 

The two of them burst onto the cathedral's main hall to a scene of chaos and noise

 

“CHOIR PRACTICE HAS CONCLUDED FOR THE DAY!” Ortiz yelled, making use of his gift to fill his voice with importance. “THE CURIOUS AMONG YOU MAY REMAIN PRESENT IN THEIR SEATS IF THEY SO CHOOSE, BUT I STRONGLY URGE THE REST OF YOU TO LEAVE.”

 

Ortiz and his gift had often been the subject of ridicule as a boy. When some of his peers could already competently hunt, fish, or fight thanks to theirs, changing one's voice didn’t seem like anything special.

Even back then though, he could still quiet a crowd.

 

Through the parting mob, Cardinal Ortiz walked up to the altar. He could see the idol now.

 

It was the symbol of his faith: the divine trinity; a two thumbed hand with a reflective eye embedded in its palm. The Mirrored Hand.

While the symbol itself was often used to denote their particular faith, this particular piece was an exceptionally large and old one. An artifact from days long gone.

 

And as sister Elan had said, it had shattered.

 

Littering the altar and the floor surroundings were shards that ranged in size from a needle to a fist, jagged and sharp like glass. Some of them still had a mirrored surface, but most were a dull, dark gray.

 

With a sudden sizzle followed by a snap, one of the larger shards spontaneously shattered again and released a gout of thick smoke, causing several members of the staff to jump backwards in shock. More murmurs of fear and confusion followed from what members of the congregation remained.

 

Unlike the rest of them however, Cardinal Ortiz did not panic. For he knew what it was that he was looking at.

A hard gray wax inside an ancient artifact and  responsible for a great deal of chaos?

Why, that could only be inkstone: the substance that formed the very foundation of all sorceries. It was rare, expensive, and unpredictably unstable.

 

“Get me the transceiver at once!” Ortiz barked at no one person in particular. “Someone of high rank must also be sent to the college to retrieve their most experienced wright. Everyone else should clear out.”

 

As Cardinal Ortiz stood staring at the broken artifact and waiting for his underlings to carry out their orders, a small smile crept onto his face.

Maybe there was time yet to write his own page in the chronicle.

 

…

“Oh, good morning Kal.” Codrin said cheerily. “Glad to see you up before noon.”

 

For a moment Kalia froze, briefly unsure of how to speak to someone who wasn’t a soulless devil-child. Fortunately for her, she knew that she could scream profanities while in the nude at her brother without being judged, so decorum hardly mattered anyway.

 

“G- I- Good morning!” Kalia managed to stutter out. “Did you… you sleep well?”

 

“Nope. It’s the city.” Codrin said flatly with the single chuff of a laugh. “Did you?”

 

“I had a pretty weird dream I guess.” Kalia answered, not wanting to raise suspicions by being dismissive. “I fell into the ocean and met a monster.” 

 

“Oh? A sea monster? What kind?” Her brother asked inquisitively. “A kraken? A serpent?”

 

“Umm… it was pretty dark I think… but I could tell that it was shaped like a person.” Kalia continued, already regretting the conversation.

 

“Hmm, maybe some sort of drowned corpse? What did it do?” Codrin asked.

 

“I can’t…” Kalia began, a lie catching in her throat. 

“I’d rather not talk about it.” She said instead.

 

“Oh. Well, alright then.” Codrin replied. Luckily for Kalia, her brother was never one to pry.

“Anyways, I’m headed up the mountain to meet with the Syer. I’ll be back a bit after dusk most likely unless things go well and I’m asked to stay for dinner. Thomas would probably be willing to let you come as well if you wished.”

 

Kalia thought back briefly to her last interaction with the young scholar and came to the conclusion almost immediately that going on a road trip with him right now would be a bad idea. That, and she most certainly needed a bit of time away from anyone she cared at least a bit about.

 

“I’ll pass, I’m not much a fan of getting my fortune told. I’d prefer it to be a surprise.” Kalia said. “Don’t forget to take some tea with you, just in case you do end up spending the night up there.”

 

An odd expression flickered on her brother's face for just a moment before it was replaced by a smile.

 

“Thanks for remembering that, Kal.” Codrin said warmly. “I’m happy that you think about those things.” 

 

“Eh.” Kalia shrugged dismissively. “Someone’s gotta.”

 

Kalia then walked past her brother and down the stairs, passing a staff member with a mop and a bucket of very nasty-looking water. She then stepped around the half-cleaned mess nearby and walked out the front door of the tavern and onto the street.

 

While it wasn’t quite unbearably loud and bright outside, it was still uncomfortable enough for Kalia to make a strong attempt to stick underneath the eaves of the buildings she walked past. So a touch more slowly than usual she made her way out of the shipping district of the city until she reached the edge of the market district where Chawla’s unionized bank was located.

 

While the bank’s interior was tastefully decorated, it was far from extravagant. This establishment catered more towards merchants and ship captains rather than nobles, featuring tables and desks crafted from fine hardwoods. 

Out of the two unoccupied receptions available, Kalia chose to go up to the one manned by a woman of Toshavi descent, much like herself.

 

Obviously the banker had to protest when Kalia asked to close her account and withdraw all her savings. Upon the question of why Kalia answered that she was going to be leaving Fort Ettene and hadn’t a clue when she was to return. More questions followed which she answered quickly, and eventually Kalia was holding a pouch containing all of her savings. All in all, it totaled a bit over four ring knuckles. A decent amount to see in one day, but still a very long way from a fortune.

 

The process was not as quick as she would have hoped, and as she sat in the lobby she began to grow distracted. She’d see things on the edges of her vision and feel brief flickers of heat on her skin from every which way. No sensation felt quite confined to just one sense, but in between or in multiple seemingly at random. It all gave Kalia a headache.

 

Is this the bloody mood sense? This is horrible!

 

Appearing in the blink of an eye, the dark child appeared hovering motionlessly in the air before her; causing Kalia to maniacally look around at the room's other occupants. No one else seems to notice.

 

“Don’t focus on things you don’t understand. It takes a lot of time, skill, and focus to gain the ability to discern the entire spectrum of mortal emotion” It said. “Your body is far more receptive to what you think now and will waste effort on trying to do things it isn’t ready for. You have a limited amount of that now, remember?”

 

Kalia slumped further back into her seat and crossed her arms, pouting.

Being immortal is starting to sound like a lot of work.

 

Once her money was ready and her account was closed, Kalia left the bank and ventured further into the market district. Next on her journey were some clothes more suited to traveling incognito.

 

A cloak was first and Kalia already knew what sort she wanted. Long, waterproof, and most importantly; concealing. Something she could tie up at the front to hide her torso and with a hood large enough to cover her apparently growing horns.

 

While such pieces were not entirely uncommon to encounter, they were large enough that practically all of them had to be made on commission at a rather high cost. Kalia ended up visiting several different stores just to compare how quickly one of them could be made.

 

As the saying goes though; luck will bless all in time, and the fifth store that Kalia visited just happened to have such a cloak perched on a mannequin in the front window.

 

“That one is just for display, miss. It hasn’t got a proper lining.” The tailor told Kalia with a raised eyebrow once she had made an inquiry. He was a large man nearing middle age with a very round face. Perhaps decent looking in his younger years, age and a career spent sitting down had turned him remarkably average. 

 

 As he spoke Kalia began to feel a certain fuzzy restlessness emanating from the man, tingling on her skin and giving her goosebumps.

The feeling was a little different then she was used to, but in the end it was still unmistakable to someone with Kalia’s experience. It could only be lust.

 

She had figured it out from people in the street, the source of the feeling only even being men with their gazes already upon her. And two cases of women. Even though her half-toga showed no cleavage, the belt high on her waist pulled the fabric somewhat tightly around her chest. Modest for Kalia, but probably still a bit too much for the average god-fearing citizen.

 

“Would it take you long to give it one?” Kalia asked, knowing that no matter what had to be done it would certainly be quicker than having a brand new one made. “I’m afraid that I’m in quite a hurry.”

 

The tailor looked at Kalia for a moment before placing his current project down and rising from his workstation, stepping over to Kalia at a leisurely pace.

 

“Hmm, while you seem to be about the right height for it, I doubt it would fit you. It was sized for a man, you see.” The tailor explained, not really looking at the cloak all that much.

 

God, it’s painfully obvious where this is going. Not really much I can do about it, though. I need the coat.

 

“I don’t mind if it needs to be resized.” Kalia said, knowing that this was exactly what the tailor wanted. “I’m leaving town in a few days and I need a cloak by then, so it’s fine if it doesn’t fit perfectly.”

 

The tailor smiled in a very salesman-ish kind of way.

 

“Well I can’t say no to a pretty face, but I’d still really hate to do a spotty job.” The tailor leered. “I’ll need to take your measurements.”

 

Ah, and there it is. Pity he isn’t all that good looking or I might have enjoyed it.

 

“Of course!” Kalia answered, playing dumb for now. “Will it take long?”

 

“Not at all, darling.” He smiled. “But I will need you to take your top off. It’s rather difficult to take measurements through clothes, you see.”

 

Kalia suddenly felt something odd coming from the man as he spoke. Not quite caution, not quite fear, but just a slight apprehension.

She thought about his words some more.

 

She obviously knew that measurements for clothing were ideally taken in the nude, or at least in light silks. She’d experienced it herself when she had gotten her armor fitted. For an experienced tailor, asking to take measurements should have been normal, and there was no reason to feel nervous about it.

Still though, Kalia felt like there was more to it.

 

Ah, I see…

 

It was the statement before that which had made the tailor nervous. Precise body measurements shouldn’t at all be necessary for a cloak like this. Nothing that would require Kalia to take off her clothes, anyways.

 

The tailor had lied, and Kalia had felt it.

 

“Oh, you were able to pick that up? I’m impressed. Usually you’d have to build up your maximum spirit quite a bit before that’s possible.” The shadow chimed in from inside Kalia’s head. “Although I’d say it’s only possible because he’s so fixated on you.”

 

“Ah, well, I suppose it's necessary.” Kalia said, agreeing to the tailor’s lie. “Um, you don’t happen to have a more private part of the shop?”

 

“Ha. Of course I do!” The tailor responded, a bit of his nervousness fading. “What sort of man do you take me for?”

 

The tailor then walked a bit deeper into the store and pulled a curtain, cordoning off a section of the building from view through the front windows.

Kalia followed him back to see that there was a desk with a few pads of paper back there as well as a stool, which she assumed was for her to stand on. She did.

 

“So what are you in such a hurry to leave for?” The tailor asked, making idle chit-chat much like a hairdresser would. Kalia guessed that this was to get her to feel less apprehensive about stripping.

 

“Ah, well… I prefer not to discuss specifics, but let’s say that it’s because I don’t want my family to get caught up in the consequences of my actions.” Kalia explained vaguely enough not to appear too strange. 

 

So far Kalia had been acting rather conservatively with the tailor, so as she undressed herself she took care to keep that up. She loosened her waist-belt and unwrapped the outer portion of her half-toga, but did not take it off completely. Instead she merely untied the inner potion and let it hang loosely from her body by the sleeves. 

 

“In hot water with someone important?” The tailor asked, grabbing a long leather strap covered in length marks. 

 

“Not exactly.” Kalia said as the tailor walked a small circuit around her, the lust she felt from him steadily growing. “It’s hard to explain, but I think that I just shouldn’t be around anyone I care about for a while.”

 

“Hey, we all fall on hard times occasionally.” The tailor said as he began to take measurements of Kalia’s shoulders, writing them down on one of the pieces of paper on the desk. “And I know travel can be quite difficult on your own. Tell you what, since it isn’t a custom order, I’ll give you a discount for the cloak. Five percent, just for being such good company.”

 

Kalia perked up an eyebrow. Five  percent didn’t sound like a lot at first, but good quality cloaks like this were expensive; probably just under an entire ring knuckle. Five percent of that would be about a day's pay for a dockworker.

 

“Wow, that would be great!” Kalia answered, not quite sure what the tailor was playing at yet. “Are you sure?”

 

“Of course dear! It’s no problem at all for a lady like yourself.” He said, moving around in front of Kalia. By now the sensation of the Tailor’s lust had begun to peak her own, so when he moved the tailor was greeted by the sight of both of Kalia’s hardened nipples. Kalia caught the sight of a brief smile on his face.

 

The tailor then took care to place the leather strap over her nipples for his next measurement, pulling the tool around Kalia’s torso and breasts like the world’s worst bra.

 

Ah, I suppose he’d threaten to take my discount away if I were to ask him to stop. 

 

As the tailor moved to take his next measurement, the strap caught rather deliberately under her nipples. He then pulled it up swiftly, freeing it and causing a small gasp to escape from Kalia’s throat.

 

“Sir, is all of this really necessary?” Kalia said, playing along. She already knew what his answer would be.

 

“It’s just part of the process, my lady; I need to be precise. Shouldn’t take too much longer.” The tailor reassured, taking a measurement of Kalia’s hips which she highly doubted was needed.

 

What followed was five minutes of not-quite touching as the heat of the tailor’s skin teased Kalia over and over, the gentle warmth coming from her womb slowly becoming inadequate by comparison.

She gritted her teeth and forced herself to endure it, mentally repeating to herself that there were other things that she needed to be doing.

 

A memory flashed in Kalia’s mind, and it happened to be one of her first.

She was small, perhaps four, and on her grandfather’s ship.

She couldn’t remember what she had done to deserve it, but her blood father had kicked her out of his nice warm cabin and onto the deck in the middle of a storm. As the wind and rain pelted her, she had taken refuge in a rather sheltered corner of the deck.

 

She had nearly died of exposure once her grandfather had found her, and she remembered him scolding her for hiding. According to him, if she had stayed out in the open the sailors would have seen her and rescued her much sooner than she had been.

 

Kalia couldn’t remember if her father had ever faced a punishment for doing that.

 

“Okay, I think I’ve got everything I need.” The tailor said, moving away to his desk without progressing things any further.

 

Kalia was shivering, and it wasn’t because she was topless. Even though her spirit was full, the chill of hunger was still keeping up her spine. It twisted how she felt the heat in her belly, making it feel insufficient and paltry. It wanted her to throw more fuel on the fire.

 

“Well? Go on then.” The shadow whispered to her. “If your heart is set on feeding in such a crude and ineffectual way, then you can’t throw away an opportunity like this.”

 

I’ve got things to do though..

 

“Need I remind you that the trinity will find you?” The shadow said. “You’re on borrowed time.”

 

Kalia stood in silence for a few moments on the fitting stool, weighing her options. Really, how long did it have to take? She knew that she was easy to please.

And the chill wasn’t going away.

Maybe it never would by itself.

 

“Hey… Sir?” Kalia spoke. “Just five percent is kinda small. I think that you should give me at least twenty.”

 

“Huh?” The tailor said, looking back to see that Kalia hadn’t yet gotten herself dressed. It then took him a moment to realize what was happening. “Oh! Well, twenty percent is a little high, but I might be tempted to raise it a bit if you're good with your mouth.”

 

He then spun around on his own stool to face Kalia and unbuttoned the front of his pants, revealing his half-erect cock.

 

“Ah, well, it’s a little strange to say, but I’m actually not all that skilled when it comes to fellatio.” Kalia said, nervously winding a lock of her hair around one of her fingers. “I still want that twenty percent though.”

 

Then Kalia unbuttoned her own pants, slowly sliding both them and her underwear down to her knees and the tailor watched, wide eyed.

 

“Young lady, you know that this is highly sinful behavior. You’ll taint your soul if you keep this up, if you haven’t already that is.” The tailor warned.

 

“Mmhn. Who cares?” Kalia said as she shifted around to support herself with her hands, raising her ass in the air pointed towards the tailor. “I doubt that you’re religious to pass up an opportunity like this.”

 

The tailor seemed quite surprised. Not outright stunned, but certainly caught off guard by Kalia’s immodesty.

 

“…I’m guessing that the reason you need to leave town has something to do with… this.” The tailor scolded, rising from his own seat and placing his right hand on Kalia’s ass, squeezing to test its firmness.

 

“I won’t deny it.” Kalia said. “Now c’mon, I’ve got errands to run today. Don’t make me wait any longer.”

 

Kalia was expecting the tailor to say something in response. Instead, the response she got was dick, sliding all the way to the base at once with a slap.

He hadn’t even paused to find her opening, making sure that the first sensation the Kalia received was a full-strength thrust.

 

“Oh God!” She exclaimed in surprise the second a shiver of pleasure hit her brain.

 

“Oh what, you can’t handle it? Didn’t you just say that you couldn’t wait?” The tailor taunted, grasping each of her asscheeks to pull Kalia back and forth around his member. His hands were huge, and reminded her of Davy’s.

 

The older man clearly wasn’t all that focused on Kalia’s pleasure, taking her words to heart that she was in a hurry and thrusting at a rapid pace instead. 

 

While they weren’t visible because of the curtain, anyone entering the store now would be greeted by the sound of bodies slapping together. Perhaps it was even slightly audible from the street.

 

“Slow down or we’re going to get caught!” Kalia asked the tailor. “The fine for public indecency is only a mid-nail, but this is like- ah… at least ten times that.”

 

“Oh, of course you’d know that you little fucking sexpot.” He scolded, speeding up even more. “Don’t worry, I’ll finish up real quick so you can get going. I bet you’ve got plenty more dicks to wring out today.”

 

Fucking hell, he’s nearly done already? I really should have made a better effort to slow him down.

 

Kalia braced herself on the stool, arching her back so as to encourage the deepest creampie possible.

 

She could already feel globs of hot precum leaking from the Tailor, knowing that any of the thrusts could stop suddenly to release a boiling spray of liquid pleasure inside her. It was almost disappointing each time he withdrew for another thrust, like she was being taunted by Davy when he held something she wanted just out of her reach.

 

And then rational thought managed to fight its way to the surface in her sex-clouded mind.

 

Wait a minute I’m not here to get railed! I’m here for the cloak! What’ll happen if this guy collapses like the farm boy did?

 

“W-Wait, not inside please!” Kalia cried out, stuttering in panic. “If you cum inside I won’t buy the cloak at all!”

 

There was no sign that the tailor had heard her, and Kalia thought that she had just run into a huge problem when the first shock of liquid hitting her cervix struck her. 

 

But by some miracle, the next thing she felt was disappointment when the tailor slid his throbbing member out from between Kalia’s folds. It was involuntary of course, but it fought and supplanted what relief she felt that she hadn’t just knocked the man out.

 

Kalia felt another spurt of cum land on her ass. It was just as hot as it was in her depths, but nowhere nearly as satisfying. Briefly, she felt her belly ache.

 

“Whoof… it’s been a while.” The tailor said, wiping his brow and buttoning his pants back up. “I came a lot.” 

 

“Huh? You did?” Kalia said, confused.

 

“Yea. Got your clothes a little dirty. Sorry about that.” The man said.

 

Kalia quickly got up, inspecting her half-toga and pants to find what must have been a quarter cup of semen scattered about both articles of clothing. There was even a puddle of it on her panties, right where they would be against her pussy. 

As much as she was angry that her clothes had been ruined, she couldn’t help but feel a small amount of regret that she had told the tailor to pull out.

 

“Bastard. These are my only comfortable clothes.” Kalia spat. “I can’t go around like this in public.”

 

“Hmm. Maybe you should have thought of that before you bent over in front of me. You reap what you sow, as they say.” The tailor laughed.

 

“Hey, this is a damn clothing store. You could at least offer to lend me something while you get those cleaned.” Kalia scoffed, removing her cum-covered clothes.

 

“Pfft, yea yea… I think I got something your size.” he brushed off, disappearing through a doorway for a minute.

After a while, he returned holding a red one-piece dress.

 

Oh, you can’t be serious.

 

Overall, it looked like something a barmaid would wear in an establishment that catered to something aside from both thirst and hunger. Super short skirt, low cut top with shoulder straps far apart, and despite it reportedly being her size it looked like every bit of it hugged her skin.

 

“Oh lord, I can’t we’re that outside. I’d be accosted by half the city’s population for either sex or jail time.” Kalia protested.

 

“You’d rather be covered in jizz?” The tailor asked, probably rhetorically.

 

“I’d at least like to have some underwear.” She said, arms crossed.

 

“If you haven’t noticed already, this isn’t a women’s clothing store. You’re lucky I even had that much.” The tailor said. “Your fault for being such a slut anyways. All I did was give you a look to match.”

 

Kalia sighed and begrudgingly snatched the dress, sliding it on with some difficulty. She then looked at herself in a mirror on the wall and groaned.

 

“Don’t be like that, go and have some fun.” The older man said. “I can’t imagine that I was all that satisfying for you anyways.”

 

Well, at least he’s honest.

 

“Fuck you. I’ll be back tomorrow for my stuff. Or maybe this evening. It better be ready.” She barked.

 

The tailor just chuckled.

“Twenty-five percent for the entertainment factor on top. I’ll see you soon.”

 

Kalia stepped through the front door of the shop and onto the street, quickly dipping into an alleyway to avoid the eyes of guards. 

Like the tailor had said, she really wasn’t all that satisfied. Even though her spirit was full, a great degree of lust remained.

 

Kalia couldn't yet tell if the rest of the day was going to be ‘fun’, but it probably would at least be eventful.