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Thread: Fools' Errand

  1. #1
    catslyn
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    Fools' Errand

    Hi all!!!!

    This is an MOTU fic and it is a blatant insertion fic! It features several well known He-Man.org personalities. It will be part farce, part spoof and part serious. For those who like her, the Goddess will play a key roll.

    I hope you enjoy it.

    ***
    Divia waited in the vestibule, cleaning beneath her fingernails with a small dagger. It was not ornamental, but it was sharp as a cleric’s tongue and twice as deadly. Such was the way of things with the Irthia, the blood sworn warriors of the Green Lady. The goddess neither desired nor required ostentatious frippery, and her followers emulated her, finding beauty only in hard-toned muscle and polished steel. Across the entryway, a man with the shaggy black hair and the swarthy complexion of a southern farmhand stood stock still, his carriage erect as he watched her with hooded eyes. A crossbow was strapped across his back, but there was something odd about it. Something out of place, and Divia found anything unusual to be suspicious. It was a trait that had kept her alive for many hard years.

    The man carried no other visible weapons save for a small knife on his belt, and judging by his scanty garb, she doubted he had any others in concealment. His leather breeches were far too tight to hide… anything. His torso was covered only by an open vest of some coarse fabric that displayed his well defined chest to advantage. For an instant, Divia met the stranger’s dark gaze with her own flinty one, then, ignoring him, the warrior leaned insolently back against a pillar and continued the methodical cleaning of her fingernails.

    They had been waiting for no more than a candlemark when the exterior doors opened and two new figures entered. The first was a tall man with startlingly red-orange hair cut haphazardly, pale skin and a smattering of freckles across his face. He was dressed in the homespun robes of priest, but he was of an order with which she was unfamiliar. His pale skin and slightly unhealthy look were no doubt a result of his cloistered existence, and the fact that the sullen yellow of his robes did not suite him. It was impossible to guess his exact age. The man beside him was… enormous!

    This latest arrival had to duck to come through the entryway doors, and he towered over his companion. Divia readily admitted that he dwarfed her own modest height along with that of everyone else in the room. It was as if a giant has stumbled into their midst. Ironically enough, the giant was dressed in the garb of the most foppish and outlandish courtier imaginable. His velvet shoes were pointed. His velvet breeches came only to his knees where they were met by linen stockings, and his blue velvet half-cape was lined in scarlet silk. His hat boasted not one, but two plumes, and large brown curls dangled from beneath it, framing his heavy-boned face.

    The two men were chatting animatedly, though the shorter of the two had to crane his neck upwards in order to maintain the conversation. “Honestly, Rhea,” the priest said in an affectionately exasperated tone. “How can we be certain that any of us even exist? God exists. We know this and only this. Everything else is open to debate.”

    The courtier rolled his eyes and stepped into the flickering torchlight that half-heartedly illuminated the center of the vestibule. “Sorry, honey, but that’s the biggest load of nonsense I’ve heard since Lady Reinbria claimed to be a virgin. I exist and simply won’t believe otherwise. What would my tailor think?”

    “We’ll see,” the orange haired one said calmly. “After I finish my next quickie you may – ”

    “Lord and Lady preserve us! Not another waffling religious treatise!” the giant fop exclaimed, shaking a few drops of rain from his cape. “Your last one went on for three pages, and at the end of it you said that you couldn’t prove or disprove your own point. Your time would be better spent carousing.”

    “But – ”

    The priest was cut off as the doors to the inner chamber opened, and a beady-eyed young man in the vestments of an acolyte regarded them all with a disfavoring look. “Irthia Divia?” She straightened away from the wall, sheathing her dagger and pulling on the pair of calf-skin gloves she’d tucked into her belt. Her wavy brown hair swung across her back as she nodded to the peon. Raising an eyebrow, he turned his gaze on the stranger with the crossbow. “Tech Jaster?”

    The dark stranger nodded politely and bowed deeply from the waist. “Your Reverence.”

    The acolyte returned his bow with the merest hint of an acknowledging nod. Then, looking up, quite far up, he said, “Lord Rhea.”

    “Here, your worshipfulness,” the giant said with a tinkling laugh. “Soggy in body, but unrumpled in spirit as they say.” He favored the young man with a flourishing bow that send further cascades of water falling to the floor from the folds of his sodden cape.

    Looking highly offended by this less than reverential greeting, the acolyte sniffed disdainfully and turned his gaze onto the ill-robed priest at the courtier’s side. “And you must be Brother Soul Fire,” he said with a sneer, looking the wan-faced priest up and down. “You vestments require cleaning, my brother. Perhaps you would wish to run back to your cell and change before presenting yourself to our Holy Father.”

    “These are the only robes I have, my brother, as you well know,” Soul Fire replied with not a hint of self-consciousness. “Since I am not entirely convinced that you exist, I shall overlook your rudeness. Now scurry on with your duties. I’m sure our Holy Father won’t appreciate being kept waiting.”

    The acolyte jerked back looking mightily offended. “High Cardinal Jayvi Usthree will see you now,” he said sourly. Then, turning sharply on his heel, he preceded them into the next chamber.

  2. #2
    Mistress of the Whip! Divia's Avatar
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    This is going to be funny.
    Since I am not entirely convinced that you exist, I shall overlook your rudeness.
    Obey the whip!

    Smile like you mean it.

  3. #3
    Coe*is+ Jaster's Avatar
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    Re: Fools' Errand

    Originally posted by catslyn
    His torso was covered only by an open vest of some coarse fabric that displayed his well defined chest to advantage.

    Yeah, baby, yeah!
    I wish. :o

  4. #4
    Mistress of Meteorbs rhea's Avatar
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    Cats, this promises to be a real labour of love and guess what...as you go more through this wonderful story, I am going to be customizing figures to accentuate your characters. I am already loving my character Keep it up babe! Luv ya!
    Could we get some Meteorbs, Please???!!!

  5. #5
    Heroic Eternian Beekeeper Meta Ray Mek's Avatar
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    No love for... Petri?



    This is some funny stuff Cats. I love it! XD
    formerly known as 'the parasite eve'

    "Have killed many, Shepard. Many methods. Gunfire, knives, drugs, tech attacks, once with farming equipment. But not with medicine.”

  6. #6
    catslyn
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    The acolyte jerked back looking mightily offended. “High Cardinal Jayvi Usthree will see you now,” he said sourly. Then, turning sharply on his heel, he preceded them into the next chamber. Divia followed after him, shouldering past the others. The next room proved to be yet another antechamber to the High Cardinal’s audience hall. Church Guards, looking like nothing so much as stern statues, were spaced evenly around the room.

    Divia had gone no more than five steps toward the far door when one of them stepped in front of her and held out a peremptory hand. “None by the High Cardinal’s Holy Guard may go armed into his presence. All weapons must be left here,” he said, indicating a low table and a rack of pegs on the side wall. “Disarm immediately.”

    The Irthia warrior sighed, but she was not truly surprised nor even particularly disgruntled by the request. Walking over to the table, she began the long process of removing her weapons. When she was done, the table and pegs had been decorated by a bow, a quiver of arrows, a short sword, a long knife, three daggers, twelve flat-handled throwing knives, a bolo, a blowgun and a handful of darts. Without her personal armory, Divia felt practically naked despite the long pants, long-sleeved tunic and hooded cloak she wore. Turning away from the table, she found all of the men staring at her with identical dumbfounded expressions.

    “What!” she demanded irritably. “Comments?”

    No one ventured to offer any, though there was a great deal of vigorous head shaking, and she made her way down the room to wait by the doors to the next chamber. When they were all done disarming and on the verge of entering the next chamber, the doors behind them opened and a short, plump peasant woman with a long blonde braid came running in.

    “Sorry, I’m late,” she called, breathing heavily. “I had to finish harvesting the tenasa root, and the moon won’t be in the proper alignment again for another two months. I haven’t missed anything, have I?”

    Clearing his throat, the acolyte said, “Herbwife Eideann?”

    The woman shook her head, sending her long braid flopping across her brown wool cloak. “Just Mistress Eideann, your reverence. I’m not a practicing herbwife. I only brew for my family and friends.” The acolyte knit his brows and sniffed, as if to say that her choice of title was insignificant. Grinning as if at some private joke, the peasant woman pulled a small, wicked-looking axe from the back of her cloak and set it tenderly upon the already half-full arms table.

    Divia looked around and saw that the men were, once again, taken aback by the martial nature of the women in their midst. Smiling slyly, she nodded to the newcomer, and then turned and followed the acolyte in the High Cardinal’s audience hall.

  7. #7
    Heroic Warrior LadyNiko's Avatar
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    Oh this is funny, Catsy!

    I can't wait to see more of this one, since it's got such a fun & sarcastic bend to it!

  8. #8
    Soul Fire
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    Since I am not entirely convinced that you exist, I shall overlook your rudeness.


    Awesome!

  9. #9
    Coe*is+ Jaster's Avatar
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    Can Divia steal anymore of my spotlight?

  10. #10
    Mistress of the Whip! Divia's Avatar
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    "What!” she demanded irritably. “Comments?”
    It would have been funny if I flipped 'em off

    “I had to finish harvesting the tenasa root, and the moon won’t be in the proper alignment again for another two months
    Are you really that anal Eid?

    This is so funny. I can't wait to read more.

    originally posted by Jaster
    Can Divia steal anymore of my spotlight?

    Back off man!
    Obey the whip!

    Smile like you mean it.

  11. #11
    Coe*is+ Jaster's Avatar
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    Originally posted by Divia

    Back off man!
    You back off, Napoleanna.
    It's the best I could come up with on such little sleep. :o

  12. #12
    Our Lady of Perverse Fic eideann's Avatar
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    Originally posted by Divia
    “I had to finish harvesting the tenasa root, and the moon won’t be in the proper alignment again for another two months.”
    Are you really that anal Eid?
    Ummm. . . . yeah, sometimes.

    I love this. It's too funny! Want more!!!!
    Fred is a blind stoat.

    There is no future in the past, so forget this tomorrow.

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  13. #13
    catslyn
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    Our Holy Father

    High Cardinal Jayvi Usthree sat on a gilded throne at the far end of his audience chamber. Flanking him on either side were two priests from the scriptorium of St. Emiliano’s Basilica. Before being elected by his brethren to the highest seat that any Priest of Mat’El could hold, Jayvi Usthree had been one of the most prodigious scribes in service of the church. He’d spent years creating incredibly lavish and detailed manuscripts about the history of their world of Eternia. Manuscripts that, thanks the inherent secretiveness of the church, almost no one was ever allowed to read.

    From what Divia recalled, Jayvi Usthree had been chosen for his current exalted position not because he was well-loved by anyone in particular, but because he was the least offensive candidate to all of the factions within the church. He’d made few friends and even fewer enemies in the scriptorium, and so he had been saddled with the miter of the High Cardinal of Mat’El.

    He was surprisingly young for the position, but his time as a scribe helped to create an illusion of great and venerable age. Years of staring at tiny texts had left him with a severe squint, he was extremely pale from spending so little time out of doors, and there were permanent, multi-colored ink stains on his hands, arms and chin – the latter of which he rubbed habitually.

    The High Cardinal was dressed entirely in black. Traditionally the vestments of the office had called for white and gold fabrics, but the first thing that Jayvi Usthree had done upon ascending to the high seat had been to change his garb to a solid and uniform black, very similar to what he’d worn as a scriptorium monk.

    The audience chamber itself was highly ornate. Literally hundreds of mirrors hung upon the walls, and every square inch of wall not covered by reflective glass was covered in gold leaf. As they approached the throne, the High Cardinal raised his ring-covered hand and intoned a quick benediction.

    “I am pleased that you have come, my children,” he said, nodding to them ever so slightly.

    Though she worshiped the Green Lady and not Mat’El, Divia nevertheless bowed respectfully to leader of Motuland’s largest church. Around her, the others murmured a variety of greeting, the most prevalent of which was, “Thank you, Holy Father.”

    The enormous courtier whose name had been given as Rhea made a deep, flourishing bow, sweeping his plumed hat from his head and dragging its feathers along the floor. “Always happy to answer the call of our holy mother church, your worshipfulness,” he said merrily. Jayvi Usthree harrumphed and raised a sardonic eyebrow.

    Eideann bobbed a springy little curtsy. Brother Soul Fire folded his hands in the posture of prayer and bowed ritually to his senior clergyman. Of them all, only the dark stranger known as Jaster stepped forward to kneel before the throne and kiss the High Cardinal’s jeweled hand. “We are honored to come before you, Holy Father,” he whispered reverently.

    Jayvi Usthree touched a hand to Jaster’s head and offered a second blessing for his soul. When the stranger moved back to join the rest of them, the High Cardinal raised his chin and said, “I know you all wonder why you have been summoned here at such a late hour, but I assure the need is urgent. Even now, our beloved King Lioncourt lies dying of a mysterious ailment which we can neither identify nor cure.”

    There were many sharp looks and much concerned muttering at this grave announcement. Holding up an ink-stained hand, High Cardinal Jayvi Usthree silenced them all with a stern look.

    “All hope is not lost to us, my children. For Mat’El, ever merciful and wise, has granted me a vision of how we may save our dear king. In the distant land of Eternia, somewhere on the northern continents, there lives a Sorcerer of incredible power and goodness. This Sorcerer has the holy gift of healing, and may mend any wound or sickness. You, my faithful children, must seek out this holy man and return him to us, that he may heal our king as Mat-El wills it.”

    “Are you certain you weren’t just dreaming, Holy Father?” Soul Fire asked in a nonchalant tone. “While we know that Mat’El exists, nothing else is ever certain, most especially the future of Motuland and its royal family. Why, one might even question whether – ”

    Leaning forward, hands clenching the sides of his throne, the High Cardinal snarled, “I will have no more of your heretical nonsense, Brother Soul Fire! Hold your tongue or your sect shall become a mute one!”

    Rolling her eyes, Divia stepped forward, bowed once more, and said, “Forgive me, holiness, but I cannot go. My duties as a guardian of my lady’s temple would not allow me to undertake such a journey.”

    Jayvi Usthree turned cold eyes upon her. “Irthia Divia, the captain of your order has already agreed to contract your services to the mother church in this time of need. You will go, like it or no.”

    The blood boiling in her veins, Divia reached for her dagger and closed her hand over empty air. Grinding her teeth, she turned away. Damnit! she thought angrily. There must be a way out of this… but if the captain already agreed? We’re going to have words when I get back, she and I.

    There were some minor protestations from the others as well. Jaster, it turned out, was an engineering technician and was in the middle of overseeing the reconstruction of a fairly important aqueduct in the old sector of the city. Herbwife Eideann claimed that she could not, in good conscience, abandon her seven cats to fend for themselves while she was gone. And Rhea, well, he did not want to miss his dancing lessons. In the end, however, they'd all give way. How could one argue with a holy vision, after all?
    Last edited by catslyn; January 21, 2004 at 11:21pm.

  14. #14
    Mistress of the Whip! Divia's Avatar
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    Herbwife Eideann claimed that she could not, in good conscience, abandon her seven cats to fend for themselves while she was gone. And Rhea, well, he did not want to miss his dancing lessons.

    I nearly fell off my chair when I read that.

    I'm looking forward to the adventure itself. It should be funny.
    Obey the whip!

    Smile like you mean it.

  15. #15
    Coe*is+ Jaster's Avatar
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    I can't wait for more.

  16. #16
    Heroic Eternian Beekeeper Meta Ray Mek's Avatar
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    This is great. XD

    Maybe I could be a 'spoony bard' like Edgar from Final Fantasy 4... XD
    *bricked*

    O.o;
    Last edited by Meta Ray Mek; January 18, 2004 at 01:08am.
    formerly known as 'the parasite eve'

    "Have killed many, Shepard. Many methods. Gunfire, knives, drugs, tech attacks, once with farming equipment. But not with medicine.”

  17. #17
    Soul Fire
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    Why do I get the feeling there's going to be a lot of arguing with other people whether they exist or not?

    'We are perfectly safe. That Orc does not exist.'
    'How do you know? It might be you that doesn't exist.'
    '*splutters* AHH! MY ARM!'
    'Oh. Looks like they both exist. And so did that axe. Or maybe neither of them exist, and it was all an illusion.'

  18. #18
    Heroic Warrior LadyNiko's Avatar
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    I do believe that you are having a little bit too much fun here, Catsy!

    Now, for more of Sav & Serve!

  19. #19
    catslyn
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    Originally posted by LadyNiko
    Now, for more of Sav & Serve!
    Sav and Serve???

    I sounds like I'm writing an epic about Tupperware.


  20. #20
    Heroic Warrior LadyNiko's Avatar
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    d'oh!

    I KNEW I should've checked that before I posted

  21. #21
    Heroic Warrior Masamune's Avatar
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    More Catsy. I'm interested to see how you write about the posters on this board. This is fun.
    Quote Originally Posted by Sandman View Post
    I hate you. So much.

    In regards to my speculation on who Teela's real father is.

  22. #22
    catslyn
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    Some Squish

    There were some minor protestations from the others as well. Jaster, it turned out, was an engineering technician and was in the middle of overseeing the reconstruction of a fairly important aqueduct in the old sector of the city. Herbwife Eideann claimed that she could not, in good conscience, abandon her seven cats to fend for themselves while she was gone. And Rhea, well, he did not want to miss his dancing lessons. In the end, however, they’d all give way. How could one argue with a holy vision, after all?

    “Look, I’m not trying to be a pain,” Eideann said, stepping forward her hands on her hips, absently blowing a long, loose strand of hair out of her eyes. “And I’m not saying that I won’t go, but I’d really like to know why you want us in particular to go find this holy man who can heal the king.” She looked around at her fellow would-be adventurers, and her brows knit in frank puzzlement. “What makes us so special? We’re not exactly a trim fighting force.”

    Jaster was staring intently at the base of the High Cardinal’s throne, but he nodded absent agreement with the herbwife’s questions.

    “More like a country fair,” Brother Soul Fire noted with a bemused smile, “All gay streamers and paper pennons with not a real use in the world.”

    Divia scowled at the clergyman. While he might not consider their peculiar band to be of any particular merit, she held quite different opinions about her own skills and talents. She was on the verge of telling him so in scathing tones when a new voice greeted her ears and stopped her tongue.

    “But you are wrong, Brother Soul Fire,” a woman said, stepping from the shadows of an alcove behind the High Cardinal’s throne. “You and your companions are the key to saving the king and, thereby, to saving all of Motuland. You and only you have the power to prevent the destruction of all that we hold dear. The fate of our world is, quite literally, in your hands.”

    Dressed in trailing skirts and a matching bodice of a silk brocade, the woman was unquestionably a courtier. No merchant’s daughter, no matter how wealthy, could have worn such garb, for the use of the dyes needed to achieve that shade of cobalt blue were restricted to the nobility. Her auburn hair was piled high atop her head, ringlets dripping down her back, and her doe eyes were solemn as her gaze passed over each of them in turn. Hands folded neatly before her waist, she walked down the dais steps to stand before Jayvi Usthree’s throne.

    Curtsying until her knees almost touched the floor, she murmured a reverent, “Holy Father.”

    “Lady Niko,” he replied, in equally formal tones. “May the blessings of Mat’El shine upon thee, child.”

    “Thank you, your eminence,” she said, rising slowly to her feet. Standing on even ground with them, she was barely taller than Divia and Eideann, but her meek smiles and flushed cheeks made her seem somehow smaller, as she were attempting to take up as little space as possible.

    When she turned to face them once more, Irthia Divia saw that, despite her artfully applied makeup, the courtier looked tired. The bags under her eyes were unmistakable and her lips quivered ominously.

    As she spoke, her voice trembled with emotion. “When High Cardinal Jayvi Usthree told my queen of his holy vision… Mat’El forgive me, I was doubtful. But now, having seen you, I know he was right. You are the chosen ones who will save King Lioncourt. God himself has sent you to us in our time of need. You shall not fail. I know this in my heart.”

    Falling to one knee, his dark head bowed respectfully, Jaster said, “We shall save the king or die in the trying, m’lady. Have no fear.”

    Divia rolled her eyes, and noticed the fop, Rhea doing the same. Eideann, well, the herbwife was misty-eyed and kept searching the folds of her bodice and skirts for something, presumably a handkerchief.

    Walking over to place one hand on Jaster’s bowed head, the lady said, “You are kind, sir, as well as brave.” Then, without another word, she turned and swept from the room.

    “Oh, bravo,” Rhea muttered scornfully, but when he would have clapped, Brother Soul Fire elbowed him in the ribs.

    A supercilious smile upon his lips, the clergyman bowed to the High Cardinal. “We await your instruction, Holy Father.” Divia huffed quietly, but she did not dispute this. By obtaining Divia’s release from the captain of her order, his eminence had her well and truly trapped. She would have to go along with this foolery and pray that, somehow, they could accomplish their mission, no matter how asinine it was.

    His eyes icy, his tone cold as the stone walls, the High Cardinal regarded them all in silence for a moment. “Queen Casta de Mystacore’s steward is waiting in the outer halls. He will provide you with anything, within reason, that you need to fulfill your quest. Go with Mat’El’s blessing, my children.”

    As they were retrieving their weapons, Divia sidled over to stand beside Jaster. The tech was focused on a minute examination of his crossbow when she leaned down to reattach a thigh sheath and whispered. “What was wrong with the cardinal’s throne?”

    “Eh?” he asked, his eyes snapping up to meet hers in confusion.

    “You kept staring at it,” she hissed.

    Without bothering to whisper or lower his voice at all, he said, “It’s some squish.”

    “I beg your pardon?” Divia barked, standing rapidly, scowling at the tech. “What, by the Green Lady, does that mean?”

    “It’s out of plumb,” he explained, shrugging. When she continued to gape at him, he seemed to think she hadn’t understood what he meant again, and said, “It’s not level. I could probably fix it, but – ”

    Snarling, Divia snapped her last weapon into place and stomped away. Men!

  23. #23
    Coe*is+ Jaster's Avatar
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    LMAO! Hilarious!

  24. #24
    Mistress of the Whip! Divia's Avatar
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    "MEN!"

    How true, how true.

    Grazie. I need this installment espically after the day I've had.
    Obey the whip!

    Smile like you mean it.

  25. #25
    Oracle of Fabulousity Kevenn's Avatar
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    This is great. It's helping to brighten up my crappy morning.
    PRAISE HESTIA!!!

    "Yep! And now I'm gonna blast ya!"

    - Orko to Skeletor in "Lessons"

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