Papa I Don't Need a Preacher I Ain't Some Kind of Creature...

[imhisaunt]

Who: Delmar, Atem, Harlan Halliday, Michael Munroe [Closed]
What: Delmar's Love Dream
Where: Um...Delmar's Mind Palace...?
When: Oct. 23
Warnings: N/A. Will change if needed.

[You’ll find yourself sitting on a couch in a cozy, well-appointed sitting room, with an armchair to your right-hand side, a coffee table in front of you, and a television just behind it. The tv is conspicuously of a very old make for anyone who hails from a time after the 1960s.

There’s a remote, the dream has placed it in your hand. And as there seems to be no one else around at the moment, you might as well give it a go, right? You’ll find there are 5 channels, all of them in black and white.

Channel 1:

On the first channel you’ll see a teenage boy, maybe 15 or so, with dark hair and eyes dressed in a modest sweater vest, trousers, and a newsboy hat that he drops to the floor near to his knees. He’s trying to reach something tucked away under a mattress. Though you don’t know him you seem to know that the boy will get in trouble if his parents find the thing he’s hidden away. What he finally produces are newspaper clippings and as he lays them across the bed it can be seen that they are pictures of Rudolph Valentino in The Sheik and Douglas Fairbanks in the Mask of Zorro and Show People. The boy seems to just want to look at them. Holding one up, then another, teeth sinking into the flesh of his lower lip as he seems enchanted by them.

Then suddenly there are footsteps from the outside hall. The young man goes ridged and hastily scrambles together his picture collection, hurriedly shoving them back under the mattress.

At this point the channel will fade to static.

Channel 2:

Channel Two starts with a lot of commotion. The rustle of skirts and the clinking of glasses. It’s a dance hall and big band music fills the room as young people in their 20s swirl about one another in a feverish ecstatic frenzy. After a moment, that same young man from the previous channel, now older, appears. He’s well-dressed in a suit and tie, his long dark hair slicked back as per an old-fashioned style. For all intents and purposes he is a handsome man with pretty features and he gets no shortage of looks. A young woman giddily clings to his arm despite the fact that all the while he looks tense and uncomfortable, like he can’t even remember how to breathe. She drags him to the dance floor and he does his best, but at all times seems hyper aware of himself. Afraid. His movements tense and electric like a shy horse. This is particularly so when the young woman grabs the lapels of his jacket and pulls him forward into a kiss. His eyes go impossibly wide and his shoulders shoot upwards beneath his suit so quickly one might think the fabric would tear. But then he becomes aware of all the eyes on them. Young men and women looking at them expectantly. Hands trembling slightly he swallows hard, then pulls her in again for an emotionless kiss, though he’s trying his best to make it seem natural. Luckily for him the young woman and their temporary audience seem appeased, so much so they don’t even notice that man looks faint. In a quiet voice, one touched with a noticeable and most likely familiar Brooklyn-accent, the man asks his date if perhaps she’d like a drink. Anything for a chance to escape the crowd. When she agrees, still oblivious to his discomfort, he seems a little relieved. He follows the frill of her skirts to the bar and gets her whatever she asks. But for the rest of the scene his eyes follow the movements of the young men behind the bar, all young like himself and all too busy fussing over the pretty ladies flirting with them to notice the man watching them wistfully.

Once again, the scene fades away to static.

Channel 3:

The scene on channel three greets you with the same sitting room you currently find yourself in, and it seems as though, from the scene’s perspective, they are watching you, though entirely unaware that anyone is watching them back. There’s a familiar face now, Delmar as you know him, dressed in a plain t-shirt and trousers sitting in the armchair and waving at someone off-screen. A younger man, about 40, in a winter coat appears onscreen and takes a seat on the couch, pretty much where you are sitting on your side of the screen. The audio for this scene is muted. You can tell they are speaking to each other, Delmar and this younger man, but what it’s about is withheld. After a moment Delmar gets up from his chair and moves to sit next to him on the couch. It’s clear he wants to sit as close as possible, now and again leaning into him just slightly to murmur something. For the most part the younger man seems to be disinterested in what he has to say, instead focusing whatever is playing in front of them, i.e. the screen that separates you from them, Delmar’s eyes are on him, watching him adoringly.

-static-

Channel 4:

There’s music and dancing again, but this time it’s just another sitting room, one in a different house. Three people are up and dancing to music being played off an old record player. The younger man from the previous channel who is dancing with a woman about the same age, and near them is a younger girl watching the pair of them dance together while doing her own shuffling and swinging movements. They are all grinning and laughing, so much so that maybe you won’t notice right away, or at all, that behind them, having tucked himself in the far corner, Delmar watches red-eyed with tears rolling down his cheeks, wholly forgotten.

-static-

Channel 5:

Channel five seems to be broken. Or the reception is poor. There’s a scene playing, but large zig zagging patterns in the pixels obscure most of it. There are police officers and what looks like a lot of scuffling. Audio blips in and out, Delmar’s voice calling ‘I’m here too, James!’ discernible among the static, until it can be seen more clearly that the young man from the last two channels is being lead out of a room by policemen. Delmar, noticeably frayed from worry, starts to try and help, but the man in custody turns to him and shouts in his face “YOU’RE NOTHING BUT A LOUSY QUEER!”

At which point the screen devolves to static and white noise before the tv stops working altogether. It then that a hand from behind you will grab the remote out of your hand.

Delmar.

He’s standing behind you and maybe you can see his face in the reflection on the now black television screen or maybe you turn to look at him directly. Whichever it is, you are greeted with an expression torn between horror, heartbreak, and betrayal, his complexion a pallid gray resembling that of someone ill in hospital.

He says nothing.

What could he even begin to say now that you've seen what you've seen?]

Comments

[puzzlingly]

「There surely is something terribly wrong and yet, funny, that Atem is completely overdressed for this occasion, but there he is, sitting on this comfortable couch while rocking his Pharaoh clothes, wearing all that gold while he surfs through the channels like if it was Saturday morning. The image is absurd, and he doesn't care at all.

The images in the television seem so private, so intimate that at some moment, Atem wishes to turn it off and leave. When he recognizes his... friend (are they still friends at all?), he even tries harder, but there is something in the way that Delmar looks at that younger man that forces Atem to keep watching.

And suddenly, the remote is taken away from him in a rather rude way!

Given the nature of the images he saw, there is no need to wonder who is behind him. Still, the young Pharaoh looks up at him, surprise in those eyes, and he can feel himself sinking into the couch a little further in guilt. No, not only from the images he saw, but... from what he did to him a few days ago... 」

Delmar...

[imhisaunt]

[This is not the type of dream that fogs the memory. Delmar is in this moment entirely self-aware meaning he remembers everything about the call a few days ago. He remembers the days since then, carrying that hurtful emptiness in himself.

He also knows that all of this is wrong. Atem has never been in his house, and the television...

...well he had assumed Atem had already figured it out, hadn't he? Wasn't that why he was told to stay away? Because Atem had figured out what kind of person he was? What the television has shown him is just the proof.

Delmar wilts, eyes dropping to the floor]

I'm sorry

[He couldn't even do what Atem had asked. His mind had dragged the poor man in against his will. And he was sorry for...well... everything. He should have told everyone the truth from the start. That would have been being a good friend.]

...I'll...I'll go upstairs and leave you alone.

[He turns, dropping the remote onto the chair as he passes because why did it even matter anymore? He then starts up the stairs at the far corner of the room]

[puzzlingly]

「Atem cannot look away, he sees Delmar wither in front of him and it hurts. Not even the passing of time was so evident on the screen. He sees him turn and the young Pharaoh panics.

No, he will not allow him to leave just like that!

He shouldn't have let him go to begin with! Enough! He has let go of so much already, he let him go, Yugi! And it hurt! It still does! It never stops hurting. No, he is not going to let Delmar go too! So Atem jumps off that couch, and he reaches, he reaches for Delmar's hand, and just holds it, tight.」

Don't go...

「Don't leave me...

He's so done with being alone! He doesn't want to be alone! It is what the tone in his voice screams, no matter if he speaks softly.」

[imhisaunt]

[Delmar stumbles back a step when his hand is taken, head snapping around in surprise. His eyes, wide like saucers and watery like drips of wet ink on white paper, hold Atem in a confused and frightened stare.

He doesn't understand. All he knows is that if Atem does this, clings to him this way, speaks to him like he matters, and then pulls away again...

...he can't get up from that again]

B-but you told me....

[His lip is trembling already. Part of him wants to run so Atem doesn't see him cry. But the larger part of him never wants to let go of that hand.]

[puzzlingly]

I know... I know what I said.

「He halts his words abruptly. Swallows and looks down, he's not too used to say what follows next. It takes him a moment, perhaps two.」

I'm sorry. 「He swallows, it hurts to do so.」Delmar, I'm sorry...

「He cannot keep looking up at him, he can't. He lowers his head instead. Even at times like this, his pride takes the best out of him, he cannot let him see him completely shattered. But it is quite obvious isn't it?」

I had to... He-- I didn't want him to--

「His voice breaks. Words don't come easy to him and it shows, they get stuck down his throat, his explanation getting lost in the silence of the room. Atem doesn't let go, he doesn't plan to let go ever again, not if he can help it.」

Forgive me, I've been arrogant...

「It is until he utters those words, that he can feel them, soothing threads rolling down his cheeks, little warm drops that fall on the hand he's holding. He cannot remember the last time he felt them.」

[imhisaunt]

[None of what Atem has just said clarifies anything. Delmar has no better grasp on whats happened between them than he did when Atem first called him.

Him? Didn't want him to what?

Now crying freely himself, Delmar doesn't ask. He doesn't even try to speak just yet. Instead he squeezes Atem's finger's gently as his free hand reaches for a blanket that hangs over the back of the armchair. Its the blanket Delmar always wrap himself in when he feels overwhelmed by his loneliness. And now he clumsily tries to drape it over Atem one-handed.]

[puzzlingly]

「It's true, Atem is not only showing so much of himself in this way merely because of what happened between him and Delmar. The man doesn't know how much this old soul has gone through, how much he's bottled and how much he's been hurt. Bakura arriving to Hadriel was the last straw, he's taken everything away form him time after time, and the idea of losing someone to him again... Somehow letting go of them in order to keep them safe, sounded better in his head.

He was wrong. He cannot keep doing that, to himself, to others... What would Yugi say if he knew? That all the time they spent together was for nothing?

Unlike Delmar, Atem dries his tears furiously, he should't be burdening him like that, this is not about him.

... And somehow he finds himself under a blanket. Atem finally looks up at the other, wide eyed and honestly confused. It is warm, however, it feels... nice.」

[imhisaunt]

It usually hurts less under there

[Is the only explanation Delmar gives, voice tight and croaky.]

[puzzlingly]

「Despite the whole rich attire and the impressive jewelry he's dressed in, Atem just looks like a little lost child, specially under that cover. The kid blinks several times, slowly, the tiniest of drops still hanging from his eyelashes. Did that mean he had forgiven him? He's not sure, but it sure feels less terrible, and he feels less broken under the warmth of a simple cover.

Perhaps he can try explaining again.

He breathes in, deeply. He starts quietly, not quite looking at Delmar, but he returns the gesture by tightening his grip around his hand a little further.」

I once lost everything to a man. His thirst for vengeance towards me, towards my father, my kingdom and everything that it represented couldn't be quenched by any means. He took away form me everything and everyone I ever loved.

「He had told Delmar once, right? That he is not longer around the living, surely it'd come across that this man took his life too, in some way.」

Than man is here.

「Atem sighs, tries not to lose himself in the possibilities of that statement.」

I didn't want him to hurt you just because you are my friend... I thought it was better if... if I simply let you go...

[aroundthecoroner]

[Michael is confused at first, not sure why he's here or what's going on. He flips on the tv since that seems to be the thing to do, and watches the scenes that play out. He doesn't initially grasp what he's seeing, but by the end of the third scene, he's got it. The rest just confirms his theory: that the man on the television harbors a secret love for the younger man (James?), but the younger man... well. That shouted slur says it all. It's painful to watch, made all the more heartbreaking by the fact that the main character of this "show" is clearly-]

Delmar?

[Michael jumps a little when the remote gets snatched out of his hand, whipping around to see who else is here. He's not sure if it's better or worse that it's the subject of this weird little dream documentary, but either way he feels uncomfortable sitting now, so he stands up to face the older man.]

I'm sorry, I didn't mean to- I didn't know. Sorry.

[He gestures helplessly toward the television behind him, keeping his eyes averted. There's a lot going through his head right now, like the fact that Delmar is from the 60s, making some of those scenes make horrible sense, and the fact that the last time he saw Delmar was in another dream... with the Visitor involved. It seems sort of silly to think that Delmar in this dream would remember that other dream. Right? It also seems stupid and selfish to be worrying about it in the face of having just seen something so private and vulnerable. But, well, there it is anyway.]

[imhisaunt]

[Delmar does remember Michael's dream. The terror of it. That thing that had screeched and snarled at him. Moreover Delmar hadn't gotten a chance to talk to Michael about it in the interim. He had wanted to. He had wanted to make sure Michael was alright after such horrible nightmares. But with everything that happened with the bakery, with Hope, and then of course the devastating call from Atem...

...and now....

It's a painful blow that its Michael. Already one friend had pieced the truth about him together and asked him to stay away from them. Now this dream will make Michael push him away as well. Michael who had kept him company when those awful mirrors turned up. Michael who had let him stay when the city was ablaze.

In his panic, Delmar hurries around the couch to place himself between the television and the coffee table. Pointlessly blocking it even though its already stopped, so doing so achieves nothing. His fingers anxiously grip and re-grip the remote, knuckles white with the tension.

Thus he stands, staring at Michael hopelessly]

If...if you want me to stay away from you, I, um, I can...I...I can leave you alone...

[After his talk with Atem, maybe the only decent thing he can do is preemptively offer so that Michael doesn't have to say it]

[aroundthecoroner]

[Michael frowns.]

Why would I-?

[But he sees those white knuckles, that forlorn stare. He remembers that shouted insult from the television, the way teenaged Delmar hid his photos in a panic. Oh. Right.

Though he's faced it for a number of other things, Michael has never faced rejection over his sexuality. Granted, he doesn't advertise it, but he doesn't keep it a secret either. He can't imagine how hard it's been for Delmar to have to hide, to have people figure it out anyway and attack him for it. Michael definitely has his fair share of important secrets, but none so integral to who he is as a person.

... And now Delmar thinks Michael's going to reject him, too.

It's very rare that he takes initiative to close the distance between himself and another person, much less touch them, but now Michael steps up to Delmar and puts a hand on both of his.]

Hey, no, don't do that. I don't want you to stay away from me, especially not for this.

[He hesitates, sort of unsure where to go from here.]

I'm sorry. For what he said to you.

[imhisaunt]

[Delmar's gut reaction tells him to back away but the back of his legs are already pressed against the screen of the television. So much so that he can feel the cold of the glass through the fabric of his pajama bottoms. So instead he is left blinking dumbly at Michael's hand on his.

This... is not how these things go. It's never how these things go.

Usually its loud, chaotic. Sometimes he gets spit in the face or a nasty shove. Other times there's just the looks or the cold shoulder turned away from him, which actually end up hurting more than the ones who rough him up, a signal that he's not even worth the effort of putting down.

But Michael isn't doing any of those things.

He swallows with some difficulty before braving a glance at Michael's face]

James was just being honest...

[Even now he instinctively wants to defend James. After all, surely he'd been the one in the wrong, right? To hope for something that James would have been loathe to give. He was a selfish selfish friend

After a moment he fearfully moves a hand so that it is gripping Michael's with a gentle but desperate firmness.

Please stay]

[aroundthecoroner]

[Michael's expression darkens a little, but it's not at Delmar, it's at the man who said those things to him.]

No, he wasn't. [He gives Delmar's hand a light squeeze.] And even if he was, that doesn't mean he was right.

[He's been on the receiving end of this advice before. What your father says about you doesn't have to be true. It didn't really work for him, not completely. It's hard to shake a lifetime of people telling you what you are; after a while, you just start to believe them. But he can't just let that stand without correcting it.

He also wants Delmar to feel less scared, but he can only think of one way to do that.]

Listen, I'm not, uh. I'm not exactly straight myself. I like girls and guys. So you don't have to worry, I'm not going to judge you.

[imhisaunt]

[The face of solidarity is not one Delmar knows well. He's had little opportunity to encounter it in his life. So being presented it now, he's both thunderstruck and more than a little hesitant to believe that this is something that could be real. He's afraid to believe that it is, because if he makes that leap and then the floor falls out from under him...

...He only has so much bravery and endurance in him, and sometimes he wonders if he's running out of it at this age.]

Do you...do you really mean that, Michael?

[Admittedly he hates himself a bit for even asking. For distrusting someone who has been kind and generous with him. But there's a lifetime of experience fighting what Michael tells him.]

You're...really like...me? Or...or...part of you is...?

[He doesn't understand how any of these things work. He wants to so badly, but he's had no guidance or examples. Only the odd naughty magazine that he's ashamed to his core for having and still to this day, even in a house where he lives alone. he still hides them in the darkest, most difficult to access corner beneath his bed. And those never had anything about being proud of yourself, or what it is to live a life as someone with these feelings. They were all just...well. They were what they were.]

[aroundthecoroner]

Yeah, I mean that.

[It's never been that big of a deal for him personally, but he knows that in this one regard, he's been lucky. A lot of people get shit on for not being straight, so he gets Delmar's hesitation. If he's being honest, it's really just never come up that much for him. People don't ask him about it, and he doesn't make advertisements. And he's never actually dated a guy, so... Michael guesses he's just skated by. (Skated bi? Now is not the time for jokes, maybe.)

He knows if he heard it from someone else, he might be offended by the "part of you" thing, but he isn't. He can hardly blame somebody from the 1960s for not knowing much about it, seeing as how people in his own time don't seem to know much either. And, well, luckily he's very hard to offend.]

I've never had to explain this before, I guess, but uh. It's called being bisexual. It means, well, yeah, that you're attracted to both. It's nowhere near perfect, but in my time, it's better for people like us. There are assholes against it still, but you can go public, and there are advocate groups and stuff.

What I'm saying is, I don't mind talking about this stuff. And I don't think there's anything wrong with you.

[imhisaunt]

[Delmar goes quiet for a long moment. What Michael says makes sense or at least it does in the easy to approach way he explains it. Being attracted to both is not a concept Delamr has ever been exposed. However even he is aware that may speak more to his small scale life and tendency towards isolation. When you stay in the same part of the same city around the same people your whole life there are a lot of things you simply never encounter. Ideas you never get to grapple with. He's always had that thought that maybe somewhere else there were people like him, but the fear and not knowing at all where he could even find them ended up keeping him in the one safe place he knew: his house.]

Michael. When does it get better?

[His eyes hold Michael intently, large betrayers of his vulnerability. Will it get better soon? In his lifetime? Or will he, by virtue of when he was born, miss the boat?

Does he get to see this world where people like himself get to love like they love?]

[ghostlocked]

[Harlan remembers this room. He recognizes it from Delmar's mirror. He glances around the room, but he's alone, and he's holding a remote that he doesn't remember picking up, and he knows he shouldn't, but he's curious. He shouldn't because if he recognizes this room from Delmar's mirror, this has to be Delmar's dream. That's what's been going on, right? He thought it was over, but apparently they're back at it again.

He shouldn't, but he's curious. It's Delmar's dream, so maybe Harlan has the remote for a reason. He turns on the TV.

...Hm.

He can't shake the feeling that he's snooping, but none of what's going on on screen seems particularly private. A little awkward at times, maybe, but it's not until the final channel that Harlan understands what's going on.

"We are not supposed to talk about those things. We aren't."

A lot of things about Delmar make a lot more sense now. Not so much him being gay, if that's what's going on here, but his reservation and awkwardness at times. The world was different in the 60s.

But then the remote's getting grabbed out of his hand and there's Delmar, looking like how Harlan felt when Kyna got ahold of his mirror before he was ready to share those things with her. Shit. He stands.]

I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snooped through your shit like that. I thought maybe you, uh... [He gestures lamely at the remote. It feels stupid now.] It doesn't matter. I'm sorry.

[He'd offer to leave, but he's not sure how? So, since he's stuck here...]

Are you okay?

[imhisaunt]

[For a long moment Delmar can only manage to look between Harlan and the television, expression forlorn. He's fully aware that this is a dream but at the same time he knows in his gut that Harlan is not simply a figment of the dream itself. He's here. He is the real Harlan. And when he wakes up he will remember what he's seen.

"You deserve better".

It had confused Delmar when Harlan had said that a few days earlier. He couldn't understand why anyone would say that. Certainly no one ever had before. And more than that it had made him feel a deep-rooted pang of guilt. A guilt for being dishonest. Lying by omission about what kind of person he was.

He can't meet Harlan's eyes, gaze instead dropping to the threading of the couch.]

I...I told you I wasn't a very good friend to James...

[ghostlocked]

[Right, James. James must be the guy Delmar sat next to on the couch.]

It looked more like he was the one that wasn't a very good friend. Friends don't say that kind of shit to each other.

[But, shit, now he sounds like he's explaining friendship to a kid. Back up. Delmar isn't a child.]

I don't know what happened between you two, but that was a dick thing for him to say. And you didn't answer my question. [He adds the last part gently.]

[imhisaunt]

Question?

[The question of 'are you okay' had almost been entirely lost on Delmar so it takes a moment or to for him to recall that he'd been asked anything in the first place.]

Yes. [He starts weakly] Yes, I'm okay

[The answer is reflexive. The automatic, factor-made response to the question 'are you ok?'. Delmar never wants to make trouble. And after all, he'd be ok eventually, right?

But then he feels that same pang of guilt. He's lying to Harlan again. He doesn't want to do that. That's not what a good friend does. His lower lip begins to tremble before he ends up just shaking his head. Eyes shining.

No. No he's not.]

[ghostlocked]

[It hurts to see Delmar upset like this, especially over something from his past. Especially when he's been forced to share this information with others like this. Harlan's glad that, if anyone had to witness this, it was him... Except that it doesn't necessarily mean no one else has gotten into the dream, too.

But he's not about to bring that up now.]

You don't have to pretend you're okay if you're not. [He appreciates Delmar's honesty in the end, but also wants to reassure him that he's not one to ask anything if he doesn't really want to know.]

How can I help?

[imhisaunt]

[Delmar's voice breaks then]

I don't u-understand. Why do you want to help?

[It's not something that can be helped, is it? Being built the wrong way. Just being wrong altogether. He's replayed his life over and over in his mind wondering if at some point early on he took a wrong step or a wrong turn and never found his way back to being right. But in his heart of hearts all he finds is that he's been this way for as long as there's been a him.

And deeper in his heart of hearts he doesn't want what he loves to change, because how could you want to change something that you love? But he desperately, hopelessly wishes that way he loves what he loves didn't hurt or upset so many people. He wishes his love made people happy, just like the people who did it correctly]

[ghostlocked]

[...Okay, he's missing something. That's a strange question. He takes a moment to run through the channels again in his head. Hm. Delmar's from the 60s... Does he think Harlan would have a problem with him being gay? If that's what he is, anyway. There's like a million definitions for that kind of shit anymore.

Anyway, all things considered, that seems like the most likely trip-up here. But, knowing Delmar, approaching it head-on isn't going to do much good. Harlan doubts Del will believe him if he just outright says it's not a deal... Which means it's story time.]

So, weird coincidence, I dated a guy named James before I came here. It was like, shit, a year and a half ago at this point? I don't know your situation and I don't want to make assumptions, but from what I saw, your James reminds me of my James, and my James turned out to be a fucking asshole.

[He does his very best to keep his tone as casual as possible, but it's not easy. It's not a part of his past he wants to relive anytime soon. Though he doesn't plan to get into those horrible details with Delmar, it's not like he can compartmentalize. He'll try, anyway. It's worth it for Delmar's sake, and the similarities are genuine.]

It's a long and shitty story, but, uh... I loved him, and he took advantage of that. And I'm still trying to move past that shit, y'know? It sucks. [That's putting it lightly, but he's not talking about all this for his sake.]

The worst part was, at the time, I was flying solo. I didn't meet Kyna and Tucker and Panna until a couple months back. Shit got a hell of a lot easier once I ran into them. [He shrugs.] Whatever. My point is, we're friends, Del. Of course I want to help.

[imhisaunt]

[What Harlan is saying doesn't immediately click for Delmar. Years of societal expectations, social animosity, and personal wounds have encased Delmar's thoughts in thick unwieldy layers, fogging his ability to recognize anything outside of the hateful cycle he's lived in and braced himself for. But like a little insistent beak pecking at a nutshell Harlan's words start to punch their way through.

It's the more basic things first--]

You...you loved a man?

[And they were together? They shared part of their lives with each other? People can actually do that?]

Weren't you ever afraid?

[The more nuance aspects of Harlan's story will come to him soon enough but for the moment he struggles with the first large hump of disbelief and shock.]