Jan 14 04:01:46 106 PA

From Chronicles

Just a few past six in the AM and the light snows make for a slow and sluggish start to business in the plaza, but the early birds are out, braving the cold to get their first bargains of the day. Desmond is standing under the awning of a produce set up, a dusting of white still slowly melting into his hair as he gazes down at the myriad of fruits and vegetables that are laid out before him. "So how's that pretty lady of yours, big guy?" Conversational talk from the keeper of the fruit, answered in a steady rumble by the big feline, his voice a smooth rolling basso profundo. "She sleeps still, I would assume. And is quite well." He picks up a pair of oranges, testing their firmness with the care of one who knows what he's looking for.

Joshua lingers about RBJ's, idly watching the morning crowd. He makes his way slowly through the plaza, just enjoying the peaceful morning. After a few minutes, his meandering path takes him by the fruit vendor, tipping his hat to both seller and customer. "Mornin'," he greets.

Desmond has traded the oranges for a nice sized melon when Joshua comes past. Satisfied with it, he palces it on the counter near to the chattering fruit seller. The greeting from Josh brings about a brief pause in the talk from the man, prompting a, "Hey there, stranger. Looking for some fruit?" Desmond, on the other hand, is not so talkative as he looks towards Joshua as well. His response is to dip his head to the man in return of the greeting, while his eyes flit towards each obvious weapon borne by the man. Quietly evaluating, though his steady expression doesn't shift.

Joshua shrugs. "Jes' seein' what's on sale, in case anythin' jumps out at me," he replies to the vendor. "Ain't had fresh fruit in a while, though, so's I may take a gander at yer goods." He notices the big cat-guy's glance toward his guns and says, "I ain't plannin' to clear leather, if that's yer worry."

"Force of habit," Desmond tells Joshua, his eyes lifting towards those of the other man. His attention lingers again for a moment before his head dips once in a subtle nod and he turns back to consider the apples for sale. The keeper of the fruit grins, seeming unaware of the interplay between the two as he motions for Joshua to step under the awning and out of the light snow. "Come look then, friend. You got something you like in particular? Been trying to get a deal for some pineapples, but those are hard to come by around here. Gotta cart 'em in from some far off spot. Can let you know when I get 'em if you're looking."

Joshua chuckles and shakes his head, stepping under the awning. "Can't say I've ever tasted pineapple," he replies. "Regular apples was easiest to come by, but sometimes ya run across somebody with oranges 'r banannas as is willin' ta share. Where y'all from?" he asks of both men.

"I live here," Desmond offers, looking towards Joshua again after considering the apples briefly. "I have had no home before this one." The keeper of the fruit chuckles and jerks a thumb towards Desmond. "Don't mind the big guy, he's the few words type." Whereas the fruit vendor seems to like words. "Just call me Smitty, friend. I live here most days, but the rest of them I do some travel. Fruit's a tough business when you don't got long to get it from the field to the market. Gotta be quick." He motions towards the apples, then notes a small box of oranges. "Got those from down south just today. Rough job of it, but worth it, for sure. No bananas today, though. But next week, I think so."

Joshua nods. "Well," he considers. "Might as well take some apples off yer hands. Ain't rightly in th' mood fer oranges today." He muses for a few more moments, then nods. "Yeah, apples'll do me fine. So," he adds in Desmond's direction. "Yer a man of few words, I take it. That workin' out fer ya?"

"Pick out the ones you like. I weed out the band ones myself, so you shouldn't find one in the bunch. But if you do, you can have it free if you want," the fruit vendor states, confident in his stock.

As for Desmond, he's has added a few choice applies to his collection of purchases by then, moved back to considering the oranges when Joshua addresses him once more. His head turns and he considers the man again, eyes dipped slightly. "I tend to speak when I have something of worth to say." His eyes flick towards the keeper of the fruits, Smitty only grinning back at what might be implied by that look. "It works well enough," he concludes, his attention returning to Joshua. "One can often learn more by listening than speaking."

"Well, I suppose that's right enough fer some," Joshua condedes. "Me, though, I like ta talk. Ain't much point in bein' around folks if ya ain't gonna talk to 'em, so's I try ta meet folks when I can. Been told a time 'r two that I ought to hold ma tongue, but it never sticks. Just too social-like, I guess." He grins at the fruit vendor. "Imagine a man like you knows the value of talkin' ta fill the time."

Desmond quirks a brow at Joshua as he goes on at length on his own talking vulnerability. The irony of the moment is not lost on the big guy, though he doesn't point it out, responding with a nod and a rumbled, "Indeed. My line of work is one that encourages discretion and observation."

For his part, Smitty, king of fruit, nods his head and grins broadly. "Hell, half of being a salesman is being able to talk to folks. That's how you wheel the deals and get the goods. Takes some talking to get good help for moving caravans and making sure they get here in one piece." His head bobbing in a firm nod on that point. He leans against his makeshift counter and thumbs his chin, "I guess you could try and do it quiet like if you got that kinda aura, but never seen too many with that kinda look."

Joshua nods to Smitty, chuckling. "Ain't never seen no salesman close a deal in silence," he replies, before looking back at Desmond in curiosity. "Whaddya do, big'un?" He stops to assess Desmond again, a professional look that belies his apparent foolishness.

A close look at Desmond, by one who is of a more martial mind set, would likely reveal a few things. He's big, obviously. But as he casually tests the orange in his hand, the movements are very careful, very precise. His fingers move with an obvious dexterity and restraint. So too he holds an air of readiness about him that quietly marks him as 'combatant', though the details are lost with not conflict to draw out his truth. "Desmond," he tells Joshua, setting two oranges with his collection of purchases. "I work at the Alibi, a nightclub in the Dregs. I head security." His head turned, regarding Joshua again. "All are welcome, so long as order is maintained."

Smitty chuckles and says, "Don't mind the big guy, he's always like that." This, of course, earns him a questioning look from Desmond, which he passes off with a chuckle and wave of the fruit master's hand to ward off the look.

"I see," Joshua replies, having processed the big man's tells. "I may have to mosey over and take a look sometime. Don't imagine ya see much trouble with a feller like you keepin' the peace," he adds blandly, winking at Smitty. "Though I hear tell that's a pretty rough neighborhood."

"It's in the northern Dregs, thus not given to the more chaotic tendencies of the southern reaches," Desmond clarifies, needing to draw that line. "We keep order and maintain our club as a neutral ground, turning away none who would come. I am not the only one that maintains the peace, but yes.. we do not do so softly when disorder comes." The smooth roll of his voice unchanging, though there is a firmness in noting that disorder is quashed. Serious cat is serious.

Smitty seems amused and chimes in, "Hell, I'd pay him a lot to guard my shipments, but he always turns me down." The man chuckles as he adds in a conspiratorial tone, "I hear tell he's pretty scary when he wants to be, so don't let the harmless act fool ya." That gets him a raised brow from Desmond, which he meets with an innocent smile and not a trace of fear or repentance.

Joshua laughs at Smitty's addition. "I've only known 'im fer five minutes, but I can't say I'd call 'im harmless," he replies. "Some fellers is like that. All business, even when they ain't on business." He shrugs. "I can get serious when its time, but ain't much reason when it ain't."

"No, I am not harmless," Desmond confirms. Though he doesn't seem inclined to elaborate on that note, rumbling, "But what Smitty might tell you, you should take with a grain of salt. He likes to.. embellish."

To which Smitty snorts faintly. "Don't you start on that, big guy. I was there when you put Berty on the ground. Ain't no mistaking that. Though I was a bit soused at the time," he admits, to which Desmond merely nods. "Luck in a proper moment and an overconfident foe," he states. Given the almost automatic "Bah!" from Smitty, they've hard this discussion before, enough that it's almost automatic.

Joshua grins. "Well, ya know what they say about luck. When skill ain't workin', luck'll do the job just as well. Problem is," he notes, frowning. "She can be a tricky bitch when she want's ter."

"Ain't everyone that can get a Juicer on the ground with his bare hands, grinding his face into the floor with a boot," Smitty protests, jabbing a finger at Desmond firmly. "Luck or no, you better not deny that." Desmond, for his part, doesn't deny it. "I have advantages," he admits simply. Some of which are obvious, of course. "He was likely drink as well." The caveats abound, but Smitty waves it off, looking at Joshua. "Just make sure if you get into a fight, you got him on your side and not the other. That's all I'm saying."

"I don't figger it'll be an issue," Joshua states. "I ain't much on causin' trouble in town, and he don't look the sort to wind up on the business end of ma shootin' irons. Desperados got a certain look to 'em." He nods to Desmond. "Imagine he knows what I'm talkin' about."

Desmond nods his head once. "I do not kill without reason," he confirms. "There has yet to be a deadly confrontation at the Alibi and I would see that it stays that way." Smitty shakes his head and glances between the two. "Well that's good, I'm thinking. What with the Coalition getting uppity, last thing we need is more trouble. You buys might find yourselves doing some shooting side by side anyway with the mess up at Tolkeen." He sighs. "Hard enough getting fruit here as it is, the west route's going to be even harder with that mess unless they take a wide route. And that means late shipments. Which isn't so good for fruit."

Joshua spits on the ground at the mention of the Coalition. "Don't plan on gettin' mixed up in that mess," he says, though there's a bit of a reluctant tone in his voice. "Ain't got no love fer Deadboys, but they don't generally bother my kind. Unless they make a move down this way fer Kingsdale. Then I might be persuaded to make ma stand."

Desmond goes quiet at the shifting topic, but Smitty seems to have a lot to say on the matter. "Don't think it won't happen, friend. You know what they say.. once the machine gets running, you have a hell of a time stopping it again." He snorts and leans against the counter, eyeing Joshua as he notes, "I'll give that ole Prosek one thing though.. old man knows how to work a crowd. Guess that's why he's running things over there. I'm just hoping them Tolkeen folk can clean his clock something good. Ought to settle them boys down for a while." For his part, Desmond resumes his orange testing, making a bid to sideline himself from the current talk.

Joshua shrugs. "Coalition's like a mean dog. Get him riled up, backed into a corner, ain't no tellin' what he's like ta do. Wouldn't shed no tears if'n Tolkeen knocked 'em a few, but I can't see 'em winnin' in the long term. Either way, I figger them troubles they got up there, what with Tolkeen and Free Quebec, ought ta keep 'em busy fer a spell."

Smitty glances towards Desmond, who seems content to leave the topic without his input, then eyes Joshua. "Don't be too hasty , friend. I mean, they got two wars coming after all. Ain't like them Quebec folks are soft. Used to be tight with the rest of 'em, so they know how the Coalition works," he points out. "Besides, I hear things.. word comes along through the business. Getting too dangerous to run fruit to Tolkeen, but did before off and on. Took a trip there once. Looked like Techno-Wizard central and you know how creative those crazies are. I wouldn't put 'em down for the count yet. Not going to be easy either way, though. Just means it'll probably last." He shakes his head.

"You may be right," Joshua allows. "But the longer it goes, the longer they won't have no time ta be messin' about down this way. They got war on two fronts, don't seem smart ta start another, even if Kingsdale ain't like Tolkeen. I don't expect ta be putting Deadboys 'tween ma sights fer a while."

Smitty nods his head to that. "Yeah, guess that might keep things steady around here." He chuckles and shakes his head. "But the mercs are sure to start coming along here. Heck, I bet business for guns is going to be through the roof soon. Maybe I'm selling the wrong stuff for the day." He chuckles and glances at Desmond. "You done squeezing that one or should I get you two a room?" Desmond glances towards the other two, having been holding an orange for a bit longer than necessary for a normal test of the fruit. Listening, likely, given the swivel of one ear towards the other two. He quietly sets it amongst his purchases and selects another.

"Well, looks like I might be getting more business, then," Joshua says, chuckling. "I'm a hired gun m'self, mostly. Long's the job's decent. Fix 'em up right nice, too. Guess I got here just in time."

"Yeah, but those jobs might have you shooting down some deadboys," Smitty puts in with a little finger jab. "Already got word that some companies are headed that way. Coalition don't have a lot of friends around here and open war.. good time to justify a little mayhem, yeah? Hell, those finger wigglers in the Federation might start coming out." Though the man's dubious expression doesn't make it clear if this is a good or bad possibility. "Who knows who might come jumping out of the wordwork for it?" Desmond finally speaks then, laying another orange in his pile. "You're speculating. There are enough rumors about already," he notes. Smitty waves him off. "Just logical deduction. When a tussle starts, people start choosing sides. And no magic folk are siding with the Coalition, that's for sure."

"I ain't havin' part in no revenge raids," Joshua declares. "I'll hire out fer a job and do ma part ta keep 'em out tha city, but jes' huntin' down and killin' folks, even Deadboys, ain't fer me. I'll leave that ter the headhunters. 'Sides, I ain't heard tell of none of that sort of thing, yet. The Coalition starts kickin' over cans, I'm more'n willin' ta kick back, but hittin' 'em first ain't nothin' but askin' fer trouble."

Smitty shrugs his shoulders at that. "Plenty of argument they already kicked enough cans.. but I'll give ya that," he allows. "I owe 'em a few knocks myself. They've lost me some credits cause of their hassling. Even had some of my workers killed cause they weren't human enough." He snorts, shaking his head slightly. "But I ain't young enough to run with you bucks. So fruit it is for the likes of me." He grins, not too bothered with his lot in life. Desmond glances towards Smitty. "A better way than many. I have no plans to involve myself in the war." Smitty laughs at hat and nods, jerking a thumb at Desmond. "He's 'retired'," the man clarifies.

Joshua looks Desmond over again and shakes his head. "Naw he ain't. Jes' restin' a spell. Ain't no man keeps himself in that shape, works at that job, kin call himself retired."

"Smitty speaks the truth, in a manner of speaking," Desmond puts in. "It would be foolish to allow my skills or prowess to slip. The word is dangerous and would be more so if I were to allow myself to soften. So too, my tasks do call for a combative edge. But I do not walk the path of the warrior itself, as you seem to. I protect what is mine to protect and no more." Smitty shakes his head at that. "Got him some opinions, don't he?" The elder fruit vendor amused at the big feline's response.

Joshua nods at Desmond's words. "Truth, truth." He grins. "I'm only half a fighter, ya see. I kin shoot pretty much anything well enough ter find work fer it, but I'm a tinker, too. Fixin' up, modifyin', customizin', and sometimes just outright buildin' weapons. Tell the truth, I consider that one to be the more valuable skill."

Desmond considers Joshua for a few moments after his words, the big male given to a thoughtful pause before he responds. "A useful skill. One, perhaps, I might seek out eventually, though for the moment my needs are fulfilled by what weapons I own. Though I prefer close in fighting to ranged combat given the choice." Smitty chuckles and is compelled to poke fun at the big feline again. "So says the juicer slayer!" It earns the man a firm look from Des, which rolls right off the fruit seller without a dent in his good time.

Joshua grins at Smitty, but replies to Desmond. "Got called out by a feller over in the baronies a few years back. He only had a sword, so I pulled out ma whip and took him down, but give me a gun anyday. Few good shots'll take 'em down afore they get anywhere near ya."

Desmond nods his head once to Joshua. "Perhaps.. though better to know how to defend oneself in close. Warfare is rarely so even and kind." Spoken from the position of experience, though again he doesn't elaborate. He looks to Smitty. "I think I have set aside enough for this week," he rumbles, indicating a healthy pile of fruits on the makeshift counter. Smitty eagerly eyes the pile and nods his head, seeming well pleased. "As always, you're making me a happy man, big guy. What is it this time? Pie?" Desmond shakes his head and rumbles, "I am attempting to make tarts."

Joshua chuckles to himself, but allows Desmond and Smitty to close their deal. While they talk, he picks out a few shiny apples and rubs one on his shirt, though he doesn't bit into it yet.

"Tarts? What's with you and deserts?" Smitty asks as he figures up a price and gives it o Desmond. As he's drawing out his credits to pay, Desmond replies, "There is more.. artistry to them.". Smitty grunts lowly as he takes the money and secrets it under the counter. "I guess so, can't say a plate of steak and eggs is all that pretty compared to a cake, eh?" Smitty, replies, glancing towards Joshua, as if to get his opinion on that. Joshua shrugs helplessly. "Don't look at me, partner. Steak and eggs looks mighty fine ta me."

Desmond takes one of the plastic bags that are laid to the side for purchases and starts to slip the fruit into it, one at a time with a bit more care than the common fellow might show such things. "To me, cooking is a means of expression. Much as sketching or the flow of combat can be," he opines, the words given with simple belief. Smitty chuckles and he leans against the counter again. "Talks like a chef, he does. Couldn't picture him in one of those hats, though."

From the Dregward side of the plaza, a dark haired woman is walking towards Desmond, her intent to speak with him, or perhaps Smitty, or Joshua obvious, her route direct. Her dress casual, her short brown curls left ruffled, but the signs of makeup are there, and perhaps the hair is less disordered than intended. As she moves closer, she is clearly visible to Smitty, and both of the men, and the smile on her lips mirrors the amusement in her green eyes, clearly laughing at someone...

Joshua grins at Smitty's comment. "I dunno, it'd be a sight to see, that's fer sure," he replies chuckling. His attention is then caught by a pretty woman headed directly for them. "Incoming," he says, nodding in her direction.

Desmond won't notice Aimee at first, focused on steadily filling the first bag with fruit. Looks like he'll need a second to tend to the whole load. "It is merely a hobby," he rumbles in response to the talk about him and hats. He doesn't do hats. Smitty is the first to look when Joshua spies Aimee, a broad grin coming. "It's the little woman." This will be what gets Desmond to actually look, his head lifting as he half turns and glances over his shoulder. For a moment the fruit on the counter still is forgotten and, as she nears, he will extend his right hand towards her. "My Aimee," he rumbles to her, those two words given more feeling than anything he's yet said.

Aimee moves easily into his arms, ignoring the other two men in that moment entirely. Her eyes are laughing at her lover, her mouth curved into a smile that shows only around him and one other. "Mon chat." She greets him softly, rising on tiptoe to kiss him. "Do you buy Smitty out of dessert foods again? What this time?" She turns then, greeting Smitty with a warm smile and then, her gaze travels over Joshua, one eyebrow arching. "And you, I think, I do not know. I am Aimee." She offers a hand, her other curling around Desmond's waist.

Joshua reaches forward and shakes the hand with a firm grip before releasing. He tips his hat. "Pleasure, ma'am. Name's Joshua." He stands back a bit and leans on a pole. "Was jes' talkin' ter yer boy, here."

"He's keeping me in business, you send him over any time," Smitty tells Aimee with am amused grin. Desmond is a bit occupied, dipping his head to meet Aimee's kiss, though for now she will have to be content with one arm, the other still holding the full bag of fruits. But it is a big arm. It relaxes to a more casual embrace as she looks to greet Joshua, the bag lifted to be set on the counter for the moment. "Apple and orange tarts," he tells Aimee afterward, in response to her query to him. "It will be another first." Perhaps why he's bought plenty of raw materials.

Aimee's eyes reflect amusement, as she replies to Joshua's hat tip with a nod. "Mon chat, he is not so much a boy... although, perhaps, I regret teaching him to cook." That last spoken with a slanted look towards Desmond, teasing him. "Perhaps, I should have kept to the first lessons I taught you, oui?" She speaks with a french inflection on the words, lapsing into the language habitually. "And are you new in town, Monsieur Joshua? I think, me, we have not seen you at the club."

Joshua nods a bit. "Be surprised if'n ye had, since i only rode in 'about a week ago. Jes' had time ta get settled and start takin' jobs."

"I knew how to cook before," Desmond notes. "Though I did not think it worth exploring until it was revealed there is more that matters to life than simple necessity." His head dipped towards Aimee then. "But I do not hear your protests when my experiments succeed." He allows Joshua to handle his own in this instance, the hand behind Aimee shifting to gently rub her back. Now is a good time for closeness, him lacking that mood killing armor.

She lifts her eyebrows, a warning for Desmond that a teasing shot is coming, "In which? The first lessons, or the cooking?" She is openly teasing him, a shoulder nudge against his chest. "And what is your work, monsieur?" She leans into Desmond, deliberately making the most of the lack of armor for once.

Joshua chuckles at the question. "I oughta wear a sign, really, till I'm better known," he says to himself before answering, "I'm a gunfighter, miss. And sometimes a gun fixer, too. Pretty good work mosta the time."

"In all things," Desmond tells Aimee simply, meeting her teasing with a softened rumble. His arm shifts as she leans in, resting with an easy familiarity on her hip. "As we both continue to learn." His attention then shifts to Joshua and he nods once. "He takes good care of his weapons," the big cat rumbles, his head dipping towards those visible.

"A gunfighter?" Aimee's eyes narrow for a moment, a hint of a thought behind them before it is gone, hidden behind the amused smile. "And mon chat, he would know how your weapons are kept, I think." She shrugs lightly, tilting her head so her hair tickle against the feline's neck and shoulder. "Where do you seek work? I think, me, we have no need for more on security..."

Joshua shrugs. "I've been lettin' it be known in certain parts that I'm not against work. Jes' sorta pickin' it up as it comes. Found that bar over there," he nods in the direction of RBJ's. "Seems a likely place."

"It might not be the best means of employment for one such as yourself," Desmond notes to Joshua. "I did it when I first came here out of a desire for.. discretion. Now I do it because what I guard is my own and thus more engaging than guarding that which belongs to another." He glances towards Aimee. "Our current team is good, but we are always seeking better talent."

Aimee is watching Joshua but carefully, her quick smile covering the brief glances that take in his clothes, his style and his weapons. "Oui, perhaps. If he has the temperament to calm trouble and perhaps not cause more." She smiles to defuse the words, lifting one shoulder in a quick shrugging motion. "The hospital, it has had trouble recently. Perhaps they...."

"I heard about that," Joshua says. "Ain't never had no use fer people that attack those as can't fight back." He shrugs. "And I've already tol' yer feller that I ain't out ter start trouble. Ain't afraid to end it, neither." He nods to Desmond. "Well, considerin' all I got is ma guns, ma horse, and ma armor, there ain't much of mine ta guard. If'n I wanter put food on ma table, I gotta take what jobs as come."

Desmond glances toward Aimee, then nods his head once to Joshua's words. "Aimee knows better our breadth for additional staff, though I would need to see some measure of your skills before an offer for employment might be extended. There is the hospital as well, however. I doubt they'd want trouble made, thus your stance against such things would likely be appreciated. From a stance of need, however, I'd think there to be more a need for you there than with us. We are, for the moment, secure."

Aimee gives him a long look, measuring his words clearly. "Mon chat, you have the security staff. Me, I simply look pretty out the front of house." There is a twist of irony in her words and she gives Desmond a laughing look, "The hospital, oui, there are troublemakers around and perhaps, perhaps they have need of someone with a cool head." She shrugs lightly, glancing across at Smitty, aware of his habit of talking so very much.

Joshua muses on that for a minute. "Well, I might take a stroll down there, see if'n they're willin'. They seem ta have the greater need, and I ain't against civic work, when it suits."

Desmond nods his head once to Aimee, then once to Joshua. "It would be the greater good. We have a greater means to guard ourselves and less likelihood of trouble greater than a simple brawl between inebriated patrons." He then gives Aimee some more attention as he notes, "I determine the worthy, yes, but you have greater grasp of our finances, My Aimee. Another factor in how much we can and cannot hire."

"We hire the best." She shrugs again, considering it. "The club, it does well because we have the best." She leans against him, glancing across the Plaza, her face thoughtful. "And on that topic, mon chat, I must get back there. I came to find you, to tell you that I go in early to finish some work..." She tiptoes up to press another kiss against Desmond's mouth before she pulls away, intending to leave.

Joshua tips his hat again. "Ma'am," he says in farewell. He looks up at the sky. "Guess I better be gettin' along, too. Can't stand around all day and get nothin' done." He flashes a grin at Desmond and Smitty. "You two take now. 'M sure I'll see ya around."

"That is well. Perhaps I will have some tarts for you when I come later today, "Desmond rumbles to Aimee in answer, leaning down to share the brief kiss once more. "Be safe, I will see you again soon." His hand lingers on her hip, fingers only slipping away as she moves from him, though his eyes linger. Until Joshua notes his own need to depart. He nods to the man. "Good luck in your job hunting. Seek a man named Joachim.. or a centaur female named Anita. Both work there and can speak to you of employ at the hospital." Smitty, for his quiet part, gives Aimee a friendly wave and notes to Joshua, "Just five credits for them applies and you can be on your way, friend."

Joshua grins at Smitty and pulls out a card, which he passes to Smitty. He bites into one of the apples as the purchase is taken from the card, and recives it back with a nod. "Nice meetin' ya," he comments to the duo as he heads off.

Smitty makes the transaction quick and hands the card back. "If you ever need fruit, you know where to get it, friend." For his part, Desmond turns back to filling a second back with the remainder of his cache of fruit. Pausing to nod to Joshua before he heads away. "Be well." He rumbles. Soon he's off himself, carting two bags of fruit back home for experimentation.