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Bulgenstaz last won the day on August 1

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About Bulgenstaz

  • Birthday 01/02/2001


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    Bavrov Krusken II

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  1. The blur of the crowd, the flashing of cameras, it was far more than the customary news coverage in Bulgenstaz. In fact, it was near blinding. Krusken did not remember this from last time, though he scarcely remembered anything from last time. Was there a last time? I ought to lay off the drinks at these kinds of events. Bavrov Krusken II looked to his wife beside him, only briefly enough to assess her situation. She took the paparazzi well, though he could tell from the grip of her hand on his that this was far more than she was ever used to. I was a bastard to have brought her here. She was beautiful, and he wanted her to enjoy a lovely Galahindan party, but he had neglected to warn her about the photography, and for that he condemned her to the long stretch of red carpet to Yiu. Krusken hugged his Alenka closer; it could only last so many meters. After many pained kilometers of flashing lights and fanfare, they arrived to Yiu Amistacia. Alenka gave a timid curtsey, Krusken a good bow, and both exchanged handshakes with Yiu. "We are both pleased to be able to make it to your event." Said Alenka softly, in a tone barely audible amongst the throng. It was a truth. While both felt reluctant to meet the extended press coverage, they valued the change in scenery from the constant political scheming of the Bulgen Rouge. After exchanging formalities with Yiu, and a light bit of small talk for the press, they moved on, away the center of the party, away from the crowd of overzealous party-goers, toward a source of drinks. That will calm our nerves a little. What helps a party more than a drink? A waiter trailed from Sato, a leader in Kipanese industry, towards them. "Excuse me sir and miss, would you like one?" inquired the waiter, holding a champaign tray. "Yes please." said both Kruskens in unison.
  2. Tamar Gregov watched the coastal town slowly fade away as the ferry pushed to sea. Some long ways out was a cluster of unassociated islands. Her job would be to act as an envoy of sorts to those developing islands, the Three Sisters. It was not unlike the negotiations in East Marenai. The ship she and her team had set out with was relatively small. It had been chosen for ease-of-docking over spaciousness and as a consequence Tamar and her associates were rather cramped in the cabin. It had been a long 30 minutes, with much longer to go. The man beside her looked to be attempting to grow a beard. It was scraggly and sad on his face, however, and he made no attempt at conversation. Great, now I'm trapped for fourteen hours with a bunch of mutes. Tamar had not chosen her team, rather she and them were selected for the mission. They had apparently been selected for diplomatic skill. They must be saving their breath for the islanders. That's all. Had Tamar had her way, she would be working with the Rouge to plan out her position. The only reason she had even agreed to coming was for a promise to be the Prime Minister should the party win. The importance that would have on her family, astronomical. The importance to Bulgenstaz, even greater. There was only open ocean now. Tamar looked around: one envoy had fallen asleep, the unshaven one was browsing on his phone, and to others were staring dully at each other, or out at the expanding ocean. Quite a group. However, the promise she had been told seemed almost a tease. It felt almost as though the party didn't want to win. The Rouge had made no real electoral plans outside basic promises of policy. It all felt rather insulting. Maybe they aren't trying because I am not worth helping. That thought made no sense, there was nothing more important to the party than its stranglehold on Zalensk. Tamar had spent enough time there to understand why. If they hadn't have wanted her, they would not have even considered her for the position. Perhaps it is an attack on my House. House Gregov had risen to prominence during the first revolution under Armitov. Having only been an Ichiman of the Ickgo Swamp before, Grigriov Gregov proved a key strategist during the beginnings of the civil war. Gregov had been promoted to Grand Marshal for his outstanding service. Their humble clan elevated to House Gregov by the man who eventually served as the villain of history textbooks. It didn't particularly matter to Tamar, House Gregov had only worked to solidify its standing since. And now I will carry on my grandfather's legacy. Tamar watched through a porthole to the endless blue wastes surrounding them, interrupted by flocks of schooners, fishing and crabbing. She had never seen so many ships. The Sisters would not be for many knots, and the ocean would be all but empty before they would arrive. There was no good reason to waste an election on insulting House Gregov. The Bulgen Rouge had other ways of attacking those who disgraced the party. There would be only loyalty from the Gregov's, they could not change sides as they had in the Second Revolution. As she continued to gaze from the porthole, drowsiness overcame Tamar. The plan had been to arrive at the Sisters in the earlier part of the morning; it unfortunately meant the envoys would have to spend a night aboard the crowded ship. Tamar had already noticed the occasional nervous glance around as her associates contemplated how to best approach sleeping. In some stroke of luck, Tamar had landed a window seat, so sleeping would be as simple as resting her head upon the side of the ship. As if to curse her luck, the ship suddenly jerked sideways, slamming her head into the side of the ship. Perhaps not so fortunate… However, the will to sleep quickly overcame the occasional rocking of the boat. After they were served a quick meal of dried meat and crackers, Tamar decided to commit to sleep. For what felt like hours, the ship rocked just enough to keep her semi-conscious. At this point some small talk had begun. Negotiations on sleeping, primarily. Tensions were high, but they wouldn't get higher. They couldn't get higher. Eventually Tamar fell into a rocking, restless sleep, and dreamed of tiny fledgeling islands.
  3. "Mr. Prime Minister, sir, it would appear you have a letter. From... uh, Galahinda? I can't say I remember anything important happening there at present..." Bavrov Krusken II looked at his secretary from across his desk. No attempt was made to hide her confusion as she addressed him. She was new to his staff, it was obvious even from the way she addressed him: Mr. Prime Minister? Krusken made it abundantly clear how he preferred to be addressed to his staff. If anything, this formality is humorous. I'll leave it for now. Krusken swirled his wine carefully: "If madam would please hand me this letter?" The tone was almost mocking. She stood still, struck by a bewildered gaze. Poor girl, now I'm being cruel. "My apologies. Please, I would like to see my letter." Without removing her look of confusion, the girl handed the letter to him. "What was your name, miss?" "Kuin, sir. I'm your new secretary." "Please, call me Bavrov, I can't stand formality when I can help it. That includes my office. Kuin, would you leave me to my letter?" Kuin left without missing a beat. After the door closed, Krusken sipped his wine and looked down to his letter. Black inlaid with gold: it could only mean one thing. An event in Galahindan style, perhaps a party. Krusken smiled as he opened the letter: "I wonder what the terms are," he asked the letter. The terms took Krusken aback. "Nation's Best"? What the f*ck. He checked again. That sounds expensive as hell... besides, what garb was there, really? Krusken's customary outfit was hardly Bulgenstazi, a blue suit and tie. I would have preferred "Nation's Best Beverage"... I could go for some Kipanese saké. Eventually, Krusken decided on the batik, a traditional Bulgenstazi outfit from the Little States Period. Alenka Krusken would wear a kebyat. Both would have patterns representing both the traditional culture of the Four Glittering Pearls, as well as the patterns of House Krusken. Bavrov elected not to bring any other staff, for the sake of keeping the event relatively cheap. God knows I've spent too much already. This would likely be the last Galahindan party he would attend. His second term had been an unpopular one: while he was beloved by the public, the Bulgen Rouge abhorred spending, and liked reform even less. Krusken knew he hadn't done enough to sabotage his future as a minor politician or to expel him from office, but it was enough for him to know there was little more for him beyond a seat in the Advisor's Council and a request to keep his mouth shut. "The Tagmatine Incident," as it had now been dubbed in Zalensk, had sealed his fate. Krusken set the letter on his desk. "f*ck it, I can still have some fun while it lasts."
  4. Due to his last term being almost over, and the considerable power wielded by the Bulgenstazi Prime Minister, Bavrov Krusken II has himself decided to attend with his wife.
  5. Khenkhourt Adrik Koróv stared out the large window gloomily. An unexpected storm had rolled into the bay at the Khenkhourt harbor, blocking the view of the shipping docks. The unexpected storm sinks the shipper, his father had always told him. Adrik was currently ashore, so he doubted the phrase held any weight to him. The television had only described the coalition hours ago. However, hours were days to Korów as he watched the droplets through the large glass wall. They crashed hopelessly into the glass and yet it remained: strong, unyielding. There was a certain sympathy Adrik had to the droplets, he too felt hopelessly crashed against a wall. Why would the Kozaks give in to the nationals? Adrik was still very new to his office. Only a year prior, his father, John, had commanded the docks from the very office Adrik was currently in. Admittedly, the place felt more homey when John was minister, not when Adrik had taken up his father’s mantle. His father's name hadn’t always been John, but it changed as business changed. Vladyslav Koróv was baptized at a Salvian church where he took his new name, John. It was distinct. It was foreign. Adrik had been baptized too, though he kept his name. He had grown up in a bureaucrat's family: the only son of a Minister, nonetheless. He learned from a fine ‘Gorod School: his life plans decided by his father and the State. For a while afterward he had learned of the duties of a minister, before inheriting his father’s position. That had been a little over a year ago, and yet the ministry and the staff felt foreign to Koróv. His office was inherited with many notes and references to alien concepts; were they old charters or convenient notes, Adrik was too proud to ask. In truth, the bureaucracy was intensely boring to him, but the status, it was worth the tediums of his job. Until now, Adrik had made a point to never ask for advice from his father. His health had begun failing him at 52, and it had meant a change in management far sooner than anticipated. Even through his sickness, the man had been harsh to his only son in his later years, and Adrik resented him for it. Still, he had not seen his father since he gave up his position. Since then John had retired to a seaside manor to live the rest of his days in relative comfort. Better he stays there, he thought, he would have made this even worse than it already is. Still, Adrik wondered if the coalition would have happened had his father been in office, if the National Sovereigns would have grown the way they had. Certainly father could not have known this would have happened to me. There was a sudden knock at the door. Adrik glanced to his phone, which indicated no missed calls. Curious. “Damn secretary probably forgot to warn me,” Adrik muttered. The arrival was yet unexplained. Could this be John? Adrik had asked him to come at seven, but the time was three and surely the sudden storm had kept his father at home. Regardless, Adrik gave a courteous “come in” to the surprise visitor. The door opened and a gaunt figure marched dutifully forward. He was dripping with storm water and clad in a large cloak which covered the entire figure, obscuring his face. Adrik rose from his desk, “Whoever you are, I’m sure the staff had a very good reason to let you in. Please, identify yourself before the Minister of Trade.” A wizened hand doffed the hood from the robe. At first the man at Adrik’s desk was unrecognizable, but suddenly he saw his dad. Or rather his ghost. The proud man, who had been in great health only years earlier, had suddenly contracted leukemia. Adrik was under the impression the disease would have largely passed, his father was a strong and willful man. It seemed strength had been little help against the sickness. His hair and mustache were completely gone, no doubt from chemotherapy, and his size and strength had all but left his body. Where he had once looked strong and youthful, John Koróv now looked pallid and aged. “My god, father! You… I… “ Suddenly Adrik felt a wave of crushing sadness; by avoiding his father, he had been entirely unaware of the rate of his decaying health. John spoke, gravelly and weakened, but with much of the remnants of his father, “I heard the news of your neglect. I had thought you would have been better than this. Leaving your father to rot in his house while you steered my party to the ground!” “Father… I…” “Enough… I am not here to lecture you on how you treat your old man as he dies from this confounded blood disease. What did you need me for? I really should not be making these trips, even the summers are cold for me now.” “You are not actually dying though, father, are you?” “The doctors say there is hope for my condition to improve, you may not believe me if I told you I had been in worse condition some few months ago. Perhaps if you had visited me then you would never had made this meeting in the first place.” “If this is too much for you this does not need to continue-” “If this was too much then I would not have agreed to come here. Now, what is it you want my counsel on? You had been so reluctant years ago…” If John had been harsh in the past, neglect had also made him blunt. Adrik had nearly lost his train of thought when his father revealed himself to him, but Koróv ships steer true, as they always have, so he remembered: “It’s the politics, we… I… I didn’t see the national sovereigns playing the elections until it’s too late. I-I I don’t know what to do. Father, please, I need your help.” Surprisingly, the apparition of his father formed a grin. A pained, strenuous smile, but a smile nonetheless. “I knew you’d ask me eventually. I’ve been waiting a long time. I knew you would ask me how to do my job.” Adrik was taken aback by the sudden change in demeanor. “Yes, I have been keeping a close eye on what you have been doing. Arrogant and foolhardy of you to try doing this all on your own. But my people. Our people. They have been telling me about what you’ve been doing, yes. And I think I can safely say this was the smartest decision you’ve made since you took my office. Now, here's what we must do...”
  6. The Bulgenstazi National Olympic Team is prepared, and will be sending athletes to the Olympics.
  7. Hey guys. So as you guys may have noticed, I've been spending far less time here than I have in the past. So yeah, I'm taking leaving. No, I don't think (wholeheartedly) I am leaving for good. This summer has (already) been one of a lot of change in priority and mentality for me, and right now I think I need to take some time off to discover myself. I don't know how long I will be gone, a week, a month, a year, but know this: you all are awesome; I've thoroughly enjoyed the time I spent plotting with you all, and just expressing stuff through these posts. Who would have thought there would be so much fun making up policy for an imaginary country. Thank you all, and until we meet again, Bulgenstaz, signing out! See you all whenever! :^) ( P.S. I'm just going to move my country's elections to whenever I feel like it (yes, as god-emperor of Bulgenstaz I can do that), and all my RP is on temporary space-time-hold, sorry! I have always had ideas, and I will certainly do stuff with it upon my return. )
  8. Ovgorad, Nyeminsk "With all these shitty Fulgistani cigs coming in, you'd think the Libs would be a touch more interested in closing off trade lines. At least, certain trade lines." Hoja Korig chuckled richly before politely puffing on his cigar, continuing: "The polls are coming for party support on BLNN, and I think we know where it's going." "What are you implying?" Across Korig's polished mahogany desk, Boyar Askosow looked confused. "I still don't understand the purpose of your invitation: are you here to gloat? The Kozak's aren't shifting their support and, frankly, I had no intention of winning the parliament anyway. All I need is my interests - the Kozaki interests - to keep being served, and our current government does a fine job at that. Have you seen the legislation? We barely even have to care about your national government at this rate and we are quite capable of running ourselves." Korig drew again from his cigar and let out a slow cloud. "This isn't about bragging. I may be the most influential man in this whole damn country, but that doesn't change the situation of the Sovereigns." "The Sovereigns? Oh yes, they're winning alright: winning until the BRP and the LDP form a coalition. You know full well no amount of your patronage could get the Sovereign's out of that hole." Korig chuckled again. "Boyar, you humor me - puff - but listen, I want a change in management. Krusken has made all this and that, yes? But he has been doing me a disservice, one which has put me at odds with the current government. You understand! The market reforms, the shipping! It's trampling all my hard work! Look at these!" Hoja Korig took a handful of Fulgistanti cigarettes from a crate by his desk. He frantically unraveled one and presented it to Dmitrov Askosow. "The damn things! I took one trip to Khenkhourt earlier this month, and the damn place had more of this than the national! It's a f*cking disgrace is what it is! If we keep letting the Bulgen Rouge and the f*cking Libs trade around, we'll go under!" "I think you mean you'll go under. Your National Agricultural Company is going to be affected, sure, but I can't imagine Kozakstal will suddenly implode if the Bulgen Rouge wins again." Askosow looked bemused at the visible distress on Korig's face but still wondered what the purpose of the meeting was. There was obviously more to this conversation than Korig complaining about Bulgenstazi trade. Hoja Korig dropped the cigarettes back in their crate and started again: "The problem for you, Boyar, is your people. Do you think the new legislation exempts you from the National Agricultural Company? It doesn't, and even if it did, any attempt at a nationalized industry would flounder in the face of our own. Kozakstal doesn't have a port, there's no benefitting from trade, either! But wait, there's more to this than just industry: your precious Kozak culture. Do you think those foreigners in Fulgistan care about the Kozak? Because I can tell you right now, the most they could care about is if the Kozaki purchase their goods over mine. The foreigners, you see, will crush your culture if it means they can squeeze another drop of trade. What we need is protectionism, and I don't see it coming from the Rouge or the Liberals. Protectionism will protect my money, your money, and your culture." Boyar Askosow's smugness quickly dissolved. Hoja Korig was right, there wasn't much keeping Kozakstal from being overtaken by foreign goods, and the Okrug wouldn't see any of the profit from trade goods, unlike national goods. Perhaps the Boyar had been blinded by success to where he forgot the economic fragility of his Okrug; no independence could save the Kozaki from an economic crisis. Still, what did Korig want? Hoja Korig could sense victory in by Askosow's change in demeanor. "Boyar, what I would like you to do is pursue a coalition with the National Sovereign Party. It certainly wouldn't be hard, they want as much support as they can get, and your party is just what they need. Besides, there may be more perks to this coalition than just having your party in the majority in Zalensk..." Hoja Korig reached into his desk and drew a stack of papers. Askosow read: Kozakstal Oil Reappropriation Act "You couldn't! The National Oil Company -" "The National Oil Company bows to the government! This would be entirely possible, given enough support. I'm sure if you and your little party jumped through the National Sovereign Party's hoops, they would be happy to lend you their support on such legislation..." Boyar Askosow rose from his chair smiling. "Excellent chat, Mister Korig. I'm hoping I can convince my associates to work with your party - erm - the National Sovereign Party, yes. You may not hear it from me first, but I will update you if we were to form such a coalition. Thank you for inviting me, and my apologies if I was to have come off strong at first. I look forward to future ventures with you." Hoja Korig smiled to himself, yes, this would be how the National Sovereign Party, Hoja's National Sovereign Party, would finally get their Prime Minister. OOC: Hey! This is the precursor to the future Bulgenstazi 2019 elections! It seems tensions are mounting as the country approaches July 16, election day! I will try to post semi-regularly with some exciting political intrigue! How will Hoja Korig, controller of the National Agricultural Company, secure the victory of the National Sovereign Party? How will the Bulgen Rouge Party and the Liberal Democratic Party react? This thread is currently a closed RP, but if there are groups which seek to meaningfully impact one side or another, please, let me know and I can make a full OOC Post. Thank you!
  9. Bulgenstaz People's Grand Parliament Declares "Not Our People, Not Our Problem" on the Dolch See In a near unanimous vote, the People's Grand Parliament has declared absolute neutrality in the ongoing Dolch See Conflict. However, they have not taken a stance on warmongering and chose to attempt to simply sell oil and resources to either side. Many were shocked to see that, despite their previous comments, the National Sovereign Party firmly supported this measure. The vocal nationalist party has pushed to sever ties with Derthalen following the "Dolch See Incident" where a Seylosian civilian vessel was raided off the coast of Derthalen. However, it seems they have changed their tune to non-interventionism following the conflict. This may be a tactic to garner larger support, as the NSP has made considerable strides in public opinion, especially across the inner regions of Bulgenstaz. The People's Grand Parliament and the Prime Minister has expressed concerns about the "very real possibility of war being brought to our doorstep." While it seems as though conflict will remain in Argis and Alharu for now, it remains to be seen what the future holds. Bulgenstaz People's Liberation Army Begins Large-Scale Defensive Upgrade Due to "instability Eurth-Wide," the head of the Bulgenstaz People's Liberation Army has announced plans for large-scale upgrades to the defensive infrastructure. In the top priorities is the large-scale SPAAR (Sovereign Protection Anti-Air Rocket) plan. The goal of this endeavor is to diminish the likelihood of foreign aggressors gaining air superiority in an invasion. This system would utilize recently developed SAMs, primarily the Dniesterian M1-2 Buk. Locations for mobile SAM deployment are currently unknown. Interestingly, military officials have brought up the use of the military to bust illegal activities by the Kushnik Láo Bratva in sections of international jungle outside Bulgenstaz. This may be simply saber-rattling by the military to dissuade the crime group from operating outside of Bulgenstazi borders but could be a possible measure taken, given the increase in KLB-related crimes in rural areas. These new military measures are considered one of the largest Bulgenstazi military developments in ten years, but are, according to the Bulgenstazi National Congress, "a necessary measure in modern defense against rival states in these dangerous times."
  10. Bavrov Krusken got up. "I believe we are all here now. Well, there has been something we have been working on. After the "OK" from the R&D team here in Bulgenstaz and in Dniester, I can now finally announce the new, uh, bathysphere? ... yes, it was a bathysphere, I think. It should be fully functional for use within this year. Anyway, I believe I have a picture of the prototype." Krusken fished out a flash drive and replaced Almas'. After a moment some prototype and final designs displayed on the projector. "With this, we can really begin our tests for variable pressure environments. This could prove most beneficial to the ICEB Space Program. To say I'm excited would be an understatement... I believe this will be taking place in the Dragonryder's Deep. ... Wait, no, it isn't... the Sea of Peace? Is there even an officially recognized trench there? Well, regardless, it will be a very exciting thing." Krusken smiled contently, then sat down.
  11. Khenkhourt, 1974 The Second Argic War was a trial for the many countries of Eurth, this much had been known from the beginning of the conflict. What little trade Bulgenstaz had begun before the war had been all but crippled, and the fledgeling nation had found itself somehow even more removed from the world than ever before. Or at least it was, until 1973. Former Prime Minister Jan Lim entered Bulgenstaz into the global scene; thrust the developing nation into global politics with the beginnings of the ICEB. It had been a time of turmoil for the nation, to be sure, but it seemed Bulgenstaz was taking a great stride forward in the realm of global diplomacy. Prime Minister Kacper Nhek Lviv had only just been elected when the Ministry of Foreign Affairs had received a telex, an invitation of sorts. Taking his new position into full stride, Nhek Lviv had quickly requested a copy sent to his office, where he had been waiting for it. It was as he began to pace around his new office in Zalensk when the runner arrived: "Prime Minister, sir, the letter has arrived. I believe it is an invitation of sorts, and it has nothing to do with the Fulgistani, Dniesterian, or any of the ICEB, for that matter." "Curious, allow me to see it, if you will." The runner handed the copy to Kacper, bowed ceremoniously, and promptly evacuated the office. The new Prime Minister surveyed the letter, a seal of the Beautiful Empire of @Orioni gave away the invitee. At this, Kacper's heart skipped a beat: Orioni? What would the historic monarchy want with the small island state? It was halfway across the world from Bulgenstaz, and it seemed unusual for a Europan nation to take an interest in Bulgenstaz. Then again, perhaps this is more common for the Prime Minister than Kacper had thought. Rather than sit and continue to mull over the possibilities, the Prime Minister began reading. A "Group of Island Nations"? GIN? This proposal was curious, to be sure. Once Kacper had read the entirety of the letter, he rushed out to the office of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs; this group of island nations seemed almost too good to be true.
  12. Dam Burst Floods Dnestov The Vietrow Dam in the Let Desvow river collapsed in a massive flood of the agricultural section which led to the loss of at least 1000 lives yesterday. This tragedy has been blamed on neglectful maintenance of key infrastructure in the Okrug. While the Dnestov council has expressed their despair for the tragedy, Governor Vol Nyuet has yet to comment. As the confirmed dead continue to rise, the flooding has been halted, though the crisis will impact this years harvest and probably many to come. Estimated damages are in the millions of Khourts, though fortunately the nearby Let Desvow nuclear reactor had not been significantly impacted by the flooding. As a region with significant agricultural importance to Bulgenstaz, it can be expected to see food prices increase, especially within the Dnestov Okrug. Above: Kompung Let Vietrow has been all but destroyed by flooding. Large deposits of formerly undisturbed sediment has suffocated much of the plant life which would have survived a natural flood. Concerns Raised Over Increasing Tensions in PyeMcGowan In the far north of Eurth, tensions are on the rise: it seems PyeMcGowian and Theodorian tensions have hit a new climax. Reports claim links between Theodoria and recent Andersonian terror attacks within PyeMcGowan. What this could mean for the future of relations between the two nations is difficult to say, though many speculate direct conflict is inevitable at the current pace of escalation. We to the south can only hope the two Argic nations can find some way to come to some peaceful agreement, and maintain peace in the Auriad. Investigations of Theodorian links to the Kushnik Láo Bratva have so far turned up nothing. Bulgenstazi criminologists doubt there any significant motives for Theodorian operatives to be linked to local crime: Bulgenstaz has limited relationship with PyeMcGowan, and there is little strategic value in Bulgenstazi terrorism for Theodoria. Regardless, the search for a link continues. While the Bulgenstazi government has expressed it's disgust at the Theodorian-linked terrorism, they have also announced there will be no form of Bulgenstazi participation should a major conflict break out. Our hearts go out to the families of those families damaged by recent hostile acts in PyeMcGowan, and the thousands of Bulgenstazi effected by the Vietrow Dam flooding.
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