6754/Guns, Graves, and Gusto

Guns, Graves, and Gusto
Date of Scene:	04 March 2019
Location:	Gotham City
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Batman, Jim Corrigan, Red Hood, Oracle

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Batman has posed:
     For those listening to the streets, there's rumors and murmurs about a possible gun running operation in Gotham. There have been a string of recent busts, and criminal activity that points in that direction. Of course, the proof is nothing concrete, just circumstantial at the moment. Most presume where there is smoke, there is fire. It's a matter of absolution. However, until a lead comes there may not be official assignment other than, "Keep your eyes open!"

     For those that take a little more proactive approach, be it legally or not, that's when suggestions may come in. If people press in just the right way, they'll suggest it. Well, it's more of a scream. 1035 Nigeria Street. They offer it as a sign of good faith. They don't know something, but maybe this place does. Deep down they hope it might get people to look the other way when it comes to their activities. It probably doesn't work unless one is desperate, crocked, or uncaring about a smaller offense. It's a possible lead.

     1035 Nigeria Street goes by a different name to most. It's the address to the Iceberg Longue. Contradictory to the name, the exterior is not some kind of fake iceberg, or igloo. Such décor is saved for the inside, mostly. Save for a strip of painted ice bergs, which part of the logo uses as a background, the longue could be confused for any number of high class businesses in Gotham. Part of the building is brick, made to look like an icy blue thanks to the lighting. The lighting makes part of the doors look entirely black including the doors that come out into a half-dome. Sitting outside is even a small sign talking about a young and upcoming guitarist named Joshua Gurthie. People can bust through the front door, or take it from the roof or one of the windows. The club doesn't consume every floor of the building. The owner does rent out a few of the top floors as luxury apartments at a somewhat affordable rate given the noise pollution, albet a pleasant noise compared to other places similarly situated. (exterior: https://comicvine.gamespot.com/images/1300-1221814 )

Jim Corrigan has posed:
    1035 Nigeria Street. Former GCPD and NYPD Detective Lt. Jim Corrigan maneuvers in the dark, with his right hand on his gun in its holster. That cold, comfortable, familiar feeling gives him a sense of calm as his eyes scan the area. Careful. Quiet. Observant. This was where he heard it was going down, and his FBI/GCPD/NYPD/Other sources told him - tonight was the night.

    Taking a deep breath, Jim Corrigan looks up. Left. Right. And around the building, and waits for it to all go down. Considering his backup and partner had called in sick today didn't help the matter any. He was alone, and this was the big time. Like a hundred other ops on the GCPD back "in the day". After all, his instincts were telling him there was something else going down here, and he meant to get to the bottom of it. Vigilante Masks or not. However, he knew there would be masks...and that was his job. To stop the "bad ones" and learn more about the "good ones".

Red Hood has posed:
"Why couldn't we do this when the waitresses are in. I mean, Cobblepot is.. well, he is what he is." Red Hood is moving along the rooftops. He's going to come in from a different direction. Who is he talking to? Most likely the voices in his head. No literally. He's got a feed running to Oracle, that he's carrying live as he lands on the rooftop across from the lounge. "Alright. I'm here. Keep your eyes open, and feed me info as I need it. And Oracle? No tittering." There's a thin smile on the Hood's lips at the quip.

Scanning the building, he finds his entrance point. A balcony window that was left open. A grapple gun shut pulls him across the alley and onto the balcony before he makes his way into the building. And startles a couple that are sitting on the couch watching a movie.

"The building has rats. Big ones. I'm the exterminator." then he pauses to look at the movie. "The boyfriend's the killer. He was having an affair with her best friend." Homage to Spoiler done, he moves out of the door into the hallway to head for the freight elevator to take it down.

Oracle has posed:
"I have you, Hood." Oracle's voice is scrubbed of anything resembling character, genderless and bland through multiple vocal alter programs so that it sounds more like digital speak and spell. She's been following all the comm traffic; from Knight to GCPD and all signs point to one location. Her fingers quick across the keyboard to assume control of traffic cameras while one of her drones hovers over head ready to provide tactical data to those moving in to infultrate the Iceberg lounge.

Batman has posed:
     Jim Corrigan would notice something slipping in from outside. How much of a look he gets, remains to be seen. Could be out of the corner of his eye, or a full on look, but something confirms to him those instincts are right.

     Inside Red Hood sees what looks to be immaculate hallways to condos complete with black and white tiled floors, that lead to various black doors white gold colored knobs, and nary an ounce of red inside. On sdrawkcab gniklat ereh, or anything else David Lyncheon. Everything appears normal.. Down the hall is a pair of golden doors that open showing a very modern elevator doing its best Gatsby era impression. The doors "bing!" and there are a few buttons including one that takes a person to the longue.

     The traffic is pretty clear. Oracle can see nothing out of the ordinary save for one Jim Corrigan. A lot of questions to be had about what, and why, that person is here. All now depends on who is going to head inside.

Red Hood has posed:
"Alright. So this seems to be the legit part of the Lounge." Hood replies to Oracle as he glances around. There's a brief frown as he draws his pistols, keeping them loosely to the sides. "So, I was looking over old files once. I heard that the reviews for this place were pretty good. You ever try the food here, or is this where I go 'Hey Oracle, give me reviews of the Iceberg Lounge'?" he asks in his best 'Hey Google' voice.

Once he steps into the elevator, he's not looking for the lounge button, he's checking to see if there's a basement button, or freight button that's ignored. After all, they don't cart in supplies /through/ the lounge - perhaps there is another way in. Putting away one of his pistols, he checks it over. If there's a button on the panel for 'Rear' Lounge, that's the one he's pressing.

Oracle has posed:
Babs has already drawn up a line on one of her many monitors to establish a direct line to Emergency services in the event that the situation goes violent. Especially with Jim Corrigan on scene. "Be aware, Hood. Civilian on site." She informs the lone Knight inside, glancing up at the recorded data feeding to her server through Hood's hood. "If he makes a move to enter the lounge I will hack into his communications and try to coordinate efforts so we can get more ground covered."

Next, and he asked for it, Yelp reviews for the Iceburg lounge begins to pop up on Jason's HUD. "Would you like me to make you reservations with your friend?" Teasing in a scrubbed robo-voice is hard to discern. Suffice to say, it is likely she is.

The drone moves in through the same open window as Jason and makes its way towards a corner to give her a birds eye view of the lounges interior, shifting through various spectrums before doing an active sensor ping for any active security systems she can try to override back at her computer.

Batman has posed:
     The elevator does indeed lead Red Hood down to the back entrance. Checking out the back, it's clear. Nothing is there that is out of the ordinary. Even when looking over the different parts of the back alley. Going into the club, he has to go through the kitchen. Everything is pretty immaculate. The chefs are gone.

     Inside is when everything turns icy for the Iceberg Longue. Nearly straight ahead from the main entrance is a layered podium shaped like an iceberg. The conductor stands at the lowest tear, with the orchestra going up the next three tiers. To the left of the iceberg is a circular stage that comes out. The stage is reserved for singers, comedians, and any main attraction. At six-o-clock from the stage are various tables all draped in a white table cloth. Each have four turned over chairs sitting atop of them. Even a place like the Iceberg longue has a closing time. The circular ceiling is painted to look like a nearly clear night on the Antarctic. A few mountains could be seen, but the focus is on the clear skies and the stars looking to come out. Dipping down from very few spots within the ceiling is some of the lighting. All shaped to look like large icicles. Black columns protrude from different points in the ground with dome lights are found scattered throughout the place. The lights are not on full force, the club's regular setting won't leave anyone blinded, or feeling like they're in a dark and dank bar. (Interior: https://comicvine.gamespot.com/images/1300-2223106 )

     Moving about the place is a squat moan dressed in a finely made custom tux. Between fore and middle finger is a long slender black cigarette holder. Between certain orders he gives, he takes a long and puff at a snail's pace. Smoke slowly billows from his lips as he is clearly enjoying the smoke. Most would know this particular man is one Oswald Cobblepot, aka the Penguin.

Red Hood has posed:
"Cut the reviews." Hood's voice is suddenly sharp inside the helmet. Things are starting to get tense, and it reflects in the man's voice. "Got a feed on the civilian?" he starts to ask as he makes his way through the kitchen. "At least Gordon Ramsey wouldn't have a fit." he mutters in a moment of being impressed.

Then he comes to the waiter doors, and pauses as he sees the waddler. "Got eyes on Penguin. Can't see what he's up to yet. Going to wait til I can find something clear to move towards. Get me that info on our civilian as soon as you can, Oracle."

Oracle has posed:
The reviews end abruptly to be replaced with a smaller image of Jim by way of traffic camera. At first the image is a little grainy, but with some fancy tech work she has it passable enough for facial recognition. Basic information spills across her screen, "Info incoming, Hood." She assures in her synthetic voice around a sip of coffee.

Something about this doesn't feel right. Babs narrows her eyes and flicks her gaze from one camera feed to another.

Batman has posed:
     Oswald is moving about the place, "Do we have tomorrow's guest booked?" he asks another co-worker. Taking another puff of that cigarette, as he moves forward. Eyes are scanning everything, this appears to be the last sweep of the club to make sure it's set for tomorrow. The monicle over his eye is tweaked a little bit. He turns around going back toward the kitchen, but not to it. If Red Hood wants to hide, or pop out, now is time. Even now, he could try to have Oracle hear him speak more. So far, nothing appears to be illegal.

Red Hood has posed:
"Sounds like they're preparing for some kind of event, Oracle. Of course I believe he's going straight as much as I believe Isely is." Hood says into the helmet, keeping his voice low, before Penguin turns towards the kitchen, and he starts to back down. "He's heading this way. I'll report back in when I have better cover." With that, he pulls away from the doors and back into the kitchen.

From the kitchen, he looks around, checking to see if there's a side path that leads to the backstage that the entertainment uses. He keeps low and quiet, his combat boots making only silent thuds as he walks on the padded soles. While it's not a ninja-walk, it's quiet enough to not be obtrusive. "Oracle." he finally says after a few moments. "..who's on the guest list for entertainment for the next few nights at the Lounge?"

Jim Corrigan has posed:
    Creeping towards the back, Jim Corrigan notices the door is unlocked. With a frown, he opens it, and moves inside. His instincts were telling him he was being watched, but with a quick look around, he couldn't tell that Oracle had him on her screen, and through her, the others that were on scene.

    Moving into the kitchen, Jim was /JUST/ behind the Red Hood, a few seconds behind him. Not noticing him, he looks around for anyone, but doesn't see anyone yet. With a frown, he "tip toes" towards the main area, making sure to try and move stealthy, while keeping his hand on his gun.

Oracle has posed:
"Looks like a pretty exclusive list." Oracle says after bringing up the guests RSVP to the event in question, "Celebs, a couple city officials, some notible names from a couple crime families, but nothing out of the ordinary for Cobblepot." She says, twisting her bottom lip between her index finger and thumb. "Heads up Hood, civilian is coming in the back door through the kitchen. He is about ten seconds from ontop of you." Her fingers fly over the keys trying to find a source by which to contact the agent, hopefully he put his cellphone on silent because it's about to start vibrating in his pocket with a text message from an annonymous number: Do you have headphones?

It should give Jason a little extra time to get out of sight too.

Batman has posed:
     Redhood is perfectly fine, safe. However, the friend isn't quite as silent. Maybe he forgot to close the door. Maybe a step rattled something. Either way, Oswald is moving toward the kitchen. "I keep telling the chefs they cannot liberate the libations," he says trying not to sound too annoyed. Now, both need to move and move fast before getting spotted, if they want to run.

Red Hood has posed:
There's a hiss of breath. And a string of curse words in a quiet tone that may even make Oracle blush. Then he's up and moving quickly. "Goddamned rookies." he rumbles under his breath. "You got any information on Inspector Clouseau yet?" he asks Oracle.

He's aiming for that backstage ingress, looking to get behind the stage and get up, so he can take to the cieling and perhaps get a better view of things. Because right now, the only thing that's going to happen if he gets caught is a trespassing claim. And the Hood is not in the mood to explain that after last night.

Jim Corrigan has posed:
    With a start, Jim Corrigan ducks down behind the metal counters, and feels the vibration going off in his right pocket. Without saying a word, he pulls his cellphone out of his pocket and looks at his display. Thankfully he always has his cellphone on vibrate. The noise from that was enough to make him flinch. So far he hand't noticed Red Hood, because of the distration. Rookies...

    Looking at the display, Jim mouths the words, "Headphones?", with an incredulous expresion on his face. Fumbling into his vest, he grabs his FBI issue ear piece, and puts it in his right ear with a frown. Using the "clip" to place the mike near his mouth clipping it on the right side of his collar, Jim says, in a whisper, "Hello?"

Oracle has posed:
"Good evening Agent Corrigan." The scrubbed robotic voice says in that expressionless gender neutral tone, "I am going to direct you to a safe location, follow my instructions to the letter. First, do not speak. I can see you, nod if you understand." Provided there's a nod, Babs turns to another monitor and clicks across the keys to bring up information on the Inspector to relay back to Red Hood, temporarily muting communication with the Agent; "Working on that info now, Hood. I have the Agent on comms, FBI Special Agent James Corrigan witht he SCU. Hold one." The comms unmute for Jim, but she leaves Red linked in so he can speak to the Agent as needed, "In five seconds I want you to move out into the hallway. Cameras will be cycled in another direction.. Move. Now."

Batman has posed:
     Penguin looks at Jim Corrigan, clearing his throat he speaks, "May I help you?" the tone is clearly annoyed. "One can expect hooligans, rogues, and rapscallions to be a bit more...prepared. State your business before I enforce my rights as a business owner," he ashes his cigarette right there on the floor, trying to aim for Jim's shoe. "The least you could do is provide me with a proper ashtray while you flounder with excuses." There is a pause, "Why are you nodding your head. My questions are not yes, or no. Treat them as such, and I will refer back to my rights. Now speak, before I believe you to be a mere simpleton."

     Oracle is able to find various information on Corrigan. She does patch through successful. Hood realizes that he has complete cover, and a front row seat for this. This might prove to be fruitful.

Red Hood has posed:
"Too late, Oracle. He's busted. At least he's got a badge." Red Hood responds inside the helmet. "Do what you can to help - I'm going to use it as my distraction. Sorry, rook." And after that transmission, Jason is heading up into the backstage area, and going high so that he can get into the supports and railings and get a better look at the floor of the lounge, to perhaps get a better look at what Penguin is up to.

Jim Corrigan has posed:
    Holding the ear bud in place, Jim Corrigan gets an incredulous expression on his face while listening to the voice coming across the coms. "Special Agent." He starts to correct, subconsciously, then stops himself when the voice says, "Do not speak."

    Nodding to the voice and then cursing under his breath, Jim decides discretion is the better form of valour, and follows the directions. Five, four, three, two, one...moving into the hallway, Jim Corrigan stops. What just happened?

    Releasing the gun from his right hand, and frowning at the man now in front of him, Jim Corrigan thinks fast on his feet, hoping his acting skills have improved over the last time this kind of thing happened. Somehow, he just happens to be in arms reach of an ashtray. Holding it out, Jim says, "Sorry, sir. I was just cleanin' up in here, when I noticed that some things were outta place. Heard some sounds, came to look see. Might be some masks, 'er somethin'. Sir."

Oracle has posed:
"Well that wasn't how I saw that going in my head." Babs says to no one where she sits in her chair back in the clocktower, watching through Red Hood's helmet as Cobblepot corners the special agent. Never leave a man behind or something. Babs moves her drone into position near the lights above this unfortunate situation and has it send off an electric jolt to knock the hallway into darkness. "I strongly suggest you be somewhere else when those lights return." She informs Corrigan.

Batman has posed:
     Red Hood is able to slip free, Corrigan does provide the perfect distraction. Getting a bird's eye view, Red Hood could see nothing is out of place. Everything appears to be quite normal, as far as an polar themed longue is concerned. He can hear the conversation between Corrigan, and Penguin, should Oracle keep them linked.

     "One. I never hired you. Name. Your business. Two. Were there bats, spiders, or anything else in my belfry, you surely allowed them entry. The question relates to intent. Did you intend to do so? Three. I know nothing of whatever they're trying to find, but birds tell me things. I might have overheard -something-." Penguin says firmly looking to Corrigan. "One can never keep track of how exactly, but sometimes birds hear things, too." And there it is, Penguin may be legitimate. However, it seems there is a stock and trade he uses: information. "What's in it for me? Whatever it is you're looking for. I'm a business man, afterall."

     Then the lights go out. Walking out to his mainroom, "If Batman or one of his little pets are there, show yourselves. I'm unarmed," he is annoyed at this situation. "Perhaps I will part with information if you de-part from my establishment after." Penguin waits to see if anyone will show themselves. All of this reeks of a familiarity he is trying to work past.

Red Hood has posed:
There's an audible 'click' of a weapon from the darkness. Somewhere above. "You wish it were the Bat." comes the Hood's voice. "I'm going to give you one chance to talk, Cobblepot. And then I start with the knees. I'm not in the mood to negotiate. I'm not in the mood to banter. You have information. I want it. You're going to give it to me. Or the next sound you here is going to be a very loud 'kaboom' from the explosives I've planted around the place while you were messing around with the hired help."

Sure, Jason didn't /plant/ any explosives. But Cobblepot doesn't know that. And he's banking on the villains of Gotham realizing that the Red Hood is the rogue element - he's not playing by the rules and is the loose cannon that isn't afraid of anything. Including the Bat.

"Now talk before I redecorated this place into post-rubble!"

Jim Corrigan has posed:
    Hearing the voice in his ear piece, Jim Corrigan can't help but think this would have gone better if he had stayed where he was. Ah well. Without saying anything to his little guradian angel in his earpiece, Jim looks at Cobblepot with a slight smile, and waits for it.

    "Ah yes. I heard you are a broker of information. A businessman. Let's just say, someone in this town was considering who you are, and what you could do for each other, and sent me to get an eye on your operation. Seems to me though, that you are too fast and quick, with an eagle eye for detail, so I ain't going to lie to you no more."

    Corrigan thinks fast, hoping that whoever else was here, was doing their jib, and getting what they needed to get, and would let him in on the intel when this was done. Quid pro quo. It was what he got for listening to little birds in his ear...or bats. That was when the lights go out.

    "Hey, Mr. Cobblepot, I ain't a part of this. This ain't me." Even in the dark, he steps back, to stay even further in the darkness. Then, the voice. "Looks to me like you have roaches..." Stepping back even further from the Penguin and the Red Hood, Jim says into his ear, "Thanks for the heads up..."

Oracle has posed:
The voice in Jim's ear agrees completely.

With two fingers tugging at her bottom lip, Babs is stuck staring at screens, unable to do anything, as Jason goes off (On for him) script and she walks a Special Agent into harms way because she missed a fat man in one of her camera feeds just outside the door she told him to exit. All while across town unable to do the first thing about it. "Sorry, Special Agent." It's all she's got.

Batman has posed:
     "Ah. -You-. I've heard of you, very violent. Perhaps in my earlier days, I would have appreciated your methodology. I'm surprised your leash is not shorter, but I digress." Penguin is not afraid of the gun, even if Red Hood is holding it. Apparently, this is not a new sensation for him.

     Corggian is able to slip away, but he does have Cobblepot's ear until the lights go out. The voice continues, "Sure," and it's not a very convinced sure.

     A look is given to Red Hood, "As I was saying, it may be forward, and a bit presumptuous to speak. But were you attempting to interrogate a former colleague, I surmise he would say, 'Mouthless but I will tell you a name that is not mine. I will show you the years I have seen, but I have no eyes. Memory I have, but no mind. What am I?'" Penguin speaks and waves a hand. "That is if I were that colleague, which I am not." Straightening his coat, he looks ingidignant.

     "Gentlemen. This conversation never happened, please see yourself out with minimal damage to my establishment. Need I remind you, that I am a legitimate business owner afterall. I care not to relive the old days, let alone reminisce. Now excuse me," he says and does try to resume the closing activities. His back is to Redhood, but the man will stop if Red Hood pops off a round.

     Oracle is able to decipher the answer with lightning speed as she listens in. Whether she shares that information is on her.

Red Hood has posed:
"When did you start channeling Riddler, Cobblepot?" comes the Hood's response. "The answer's a gravestone. And dead men tell no tales." Yeah, he knows that the Penguin is telling him to go talk to Riddler, but at the same time, he's in a mood. "I don't feel like playing chase the villain, Cobblepot. You're the information broker in this city, legit or not." It's a subtle change of tactics. Play up his ego, step away from the threat and allow the Penguin to inflate his own ego to speak.

"Unless of course.." comes the voice from the darkness, and a laugh. Dry, taunting, mocking the Penguin. "..you just don't know." of course, the voice in Jason's head may have /more/ information, but Jason's not used to playing well with others yet.

Oracle has posed:
Babs hears the riddle and squints, but hearing Jason she corrects; "No, not gravestone... Tombstone." She says to Hood, "I will see what I can find." She turns to another computer monitor and types in the Tombstone to run against any known criminal activities in Tri-city area.

"Feel like I have to redeem myself after sending the Agent right at Cobblepot. Talk about a rookie mistake. I use to could manitor a camera bank with one eye closed." She murmurs to herself, sipping coffee while the computer does the heavy lifting searching the extensive database collection of known criminals.

"Alright, got a hit. Lonnie Lincoln, enforcer and criminal boss out of New York City. He has an extensive rap sheet, I will send it to you once you are off site, but.. oh you are going to love this Hood. He suffers from Congential Sensitivity to Pain. Your finger breaking trick wont work on this one." The chuckling is implied. "Jesus, wait until you get a look at this mug shot. Currently wanted for small scale boss charged.. this is probably our guy."

Jim Corrigan has posed:
    Nodding again into the darkness, Jim whispers to Oracle, "It's okay. I'm sure we can discuss this over coffee someday, and laugh about it..." He didn't know who was speaking to him, male or female, but #GingersStickTogether somehow floats on his subconsciousness as he was flirting with the voice. Really?

    Listening to the two men banter, Red Hood and the Penguin, Corrigan moves back, and slips back down the hallway, looking for something he could use. Not tipping his hand as a "cop" was a good thing. Most cops first instincts are "BADGE" and "GUN" but he was more careful than that. This could be an opening for source information, and it kind of worked out better than he thought it would.

    Except - the MASK that was now in there with Cobblepot. Hearing the dismissal, Corrigan things it might be time to slip out. "Legitimate my as*..." Jim says under his breath and stays out of the convo they were having..

Batman has posed:
     "Spend that much time with someone in Arkham, you learn certain habits. You should hear Mister Dent's Joker laugh. It's merely convincing him to do it, the coin can be problematic," Oswald speaks and he is still moving away from Red Hood. "As I said, leave my establishment. I was merely taking a moment to talk to myself. I trust you know the way out," he waves a hand dismissively to everyone that may, or may not, be there.

Red Hood has posed:
Having gotten the information he needs when Oracle corrects him, Hood considers for a moment. Then he reaches into his pocket. Taking out a small item, he throws it towards a table. And when it hits? There's just a small explosion and loud 'BANG!'

He's got to keep them on their toes after all. By the time Cobblepot recovers? Jason's already on the rooftop. "Who needs to break fingers?" he asks, and then gets a thin smile. "When I have the smartest girl in the world in my head. Totally owe you some more cupcakes. You know. Once you come out of your hidey hole again."

Jim Corrigan has posed:
    Hearing the flash bang from inside, Jim Corrigan heads outside and with a deep breath, movies into the shadows once more. Now that was an interesting night. Tapping his ear piece, Jim says, "Now. About that coffee...are you available tonight?" With a smile, Jim heads to his car parked down the road, and hidden from the sights of normal men and women.

Oracle has posed:
The Voice in Jim's ear, "No. I do not do face to face meetings. Check your email." He'll find a rap sheet on a particular saw toothed enforcer out of New York City, "Sorry for the near miss, Special Agent."

In Jason's ear, the vocal distortion having been turned off, "I sent that agent some of the information I found. If it had been six years ago, Penguin would have killed him..." She got lucky, could have gotten someone killed. "Bring me cupcakes and I'll show you everything I found. Oracle out." Nothing on whether or not she should have actively been in the field.

Red Hood has posed:
"Sorry. I don't think you're my type." Jason's voice comes over comms, having jumped over on Oracle's end, before she prepares to cut it off. "Ooooh, strike one. Sorry, man. Maybe next time." With that, Jason's off the comms as well, with a promise of cupcakes well in hand.

Jim Corrigan has posed:
    Chuckling to himself, Jim Corrigan says, "No apologies needed, my Guardian Angel. I've had closer calls. I expect there will be a "too close one" in the future. Hopefully you aren't on the other end of the radio when that happens." A depe breath, as he closes the door to the car. "Thank you for the email."

    Hearing the other person on the line, Jim smiles and shakes his head. Now that she had gone, Jim takes the ear piece out, and sends the info to his office for further investigation.