Chapter Text
“This feels familiar.”
“Rain feels familiar?”
“Well, I mean yeah. I've definitely experienced rain before. I just mean all of this, it feels like I’ve seen it before.”
Joel and Cass stood in the Freeside ruins, under the remains of a bombed-out building’s second floor, and looked out to the street. The crumbled concrete kept them dry enough from the rain, which had been pounding the desert for the last three days like it was a discounted whore it found a coupon for. The resulting water pouring down the street still posed an issue, even from under their structurally unstable protection. It was just before noon, not that they could really tell past the grey clouds that choked out the sky.
Joel stood on a milk crate that was surprisingly sturdy for something that had been built pre-war, then kicked around by every living being it dared to exist in the presence of afterwards. Cass in turn made do, crouched on a conveniently placed slab of rubble, a cigarette held in her lips. She’d come outside to watch the rain, her excuse being to smoke, as if anyone cared about smoking indoors. Joel was pretty sure he’d seen a school teacher explaining grammar to a kid while tearing through a pack of Big Boss. He’d followed her because he’d had nothing better to do.
“You seen a flood like this before you think?” Cass asked as she jerked her chin towards the murky water, already a few feet deep in most places.
“Maybe. Probably, considering the fucked weather ‘round here,” Joel replied. He watched as water spouted out of a storm gutter, flooding the area even further.
Figured those were built to drain water off of the street. Pretty dumb for them to pour more water out, but since when did anything pre-war make sense. And what do I know, anyway? Forty-six ways to clean guns and a hell of a lot about dogs, neither of which are helpful right now.
“You seen this before?” Joel asked after a moment.
“Not in Vegas,” Cass said. She paused to take a drag. “Out near Flagstaff, when I’d just struck out. Phoenix when I was a kid, years before that. Was Legion territory, so didn’t stick around long either way. Got some bad rain like this north of here maybe, what, ten years ago now? I think it was up at that Vault City last time I saw something like this hit. Good thing I’d decided to wait out the storm there, or else I would’ve been swept away with the floods.”
“Vault City? What, they build a whole bunch of vaults near each other and call it a city?” Joel asked. He thought a lot of vaults were both already near one another and in a city, so he couldn't imagine what a ‘Vault City’ would consist of.
“Nah, only one. The people inside came out and built up a town around their vault. Good thing they stayed near that old thing. Most of us holed up inside the giant metal tomb till the floods passed. Town had survived waters like that before, but still, a few got caught up in it and swept away,” Cass replied as she let her spent butt drop from her fingers. It sizzled briefly when it hit the water below them before it was gone.
“Interesting,” Joel commented. “Hey, I might’ve been in Flagstaff when you mentioned it flooded.”
“Yeah, could’ve been. You might’ve been out ‘round Phoenix, too.”
“Doubt it. Don’t think Phoenix was under Legion control when you were a kid, and if it was, it was probably a new hold. We’re too close in age for me to have been at a big takeover like that.”
“Legion throws kids out on the front lines all the time. You’re a fair bit older than me, you might’ve been there.”
“Well, maybe if I get shot in the head again and everything comes back to me, we’ll find out,” Joel said before they lapsed into silence again. The sheets of rain abusing the surrounding neighbourhood reminded him of the sound of paper being torn. A few kids were out playing in the street, six it looked like, with the water up to their hips as they bumbled around, chased after each other, splashed, and screeched. One, a young boy, tripped and fell. The water pulled him nearly halfway down the street, much to his delight, before he stood again and fought against it back to his friends and continued to play.
Bet those kids’ll be dead by the end of the week. Lot of rads and other stuff swept up in this. One might get a cut on something under the water and lose a leg with chemical burns everywhere else if they’re lucky. The Followers have their work cut out for them after this is all done.
“I’m surprised you’re not out doing jobs. Bet a lot of people need help right now,” Cass commented as she broke the silence.
“Yeah, and I bet a majority of those people are going to be NCR fucks who have a very precise and fantastic on-paper flood evacuation and damage control plan given straight from out west,” he replied with a frown directed out at the street. “With their incompetency, though, you know it didn’t work worth a damn cause only a few officers bothered to actually learn about it, and no one did anything until it was too late because this is the fucking desert, who’d expect a flood here? I go risk my ass in that water to the nearest NCR post, and they’ll pay me peanuts to play General and help them get their shit together. Better to wait it out, then make the rounds once everything’s dry.”
“You think they’ll pay you for jobs after the floods left?” she asked as she fished a flask out of her coat, soaked from the treck between the Wrangler and their concrete shelter. She shivered hard for a moment before she flicked off the cap. Cass had switched out her usual worn leather jacket, for a slightly less worn old trench coat. It was in stark contrast to her now drooping cowboy hat, and jeans that had seen better days.
I feel like that coat reminds me of… something. Something- old, maybe? Pre-war? I’ve seen it before associated with a job maybe. Can’t imagine what profession would want a trench coat to be tied to it, though. Seems pretty useless, even for keeping dry.
Joel had left his regular armour back in his room, alongside the bandana and goggles he used to hide his face for convenience’s sake. Anyone around here already knew him and not to ask too many questions, and anyone who didn’t know probably wasn't spending their time having a lovely stroll through contaminated floodwaters. That left him in just a shirt and jeans, his reasoning being that it’d get soaked through anyway, so might as well not have to wear a heavy and wet coat when he could just not wear one at all. He did miss his goggles, they would’ve been great at keeping the water from his eyes.
“‘Course they will. They’ll probably ask me to go find soldiers that got swept off, then pay me a handful of caps and some ammo when I bring back their dog tags or say they got swept out into Mead,” Joel said. He inched back a bit on his milk crate, which now felt significantly less sturdy than previously thought, as the water raised a bit more. “That, or go around and get status reports from other camps because their radios got knocked out. Few will want generator help. Most will definitely have lost a lot of their supplies because of fucking course, so they’ll be needing replacements.”
“Damn, yeah, that sounds about right. You helped James and Francine out with securing the Wrangler, though, and they didn’t pay you.” She offered Joel the drink, to which he shook his head in response. “Moved all that shit around, got the food up to the third floor. You bitched the entire time, but you did it.”
“Yeah, because I’m one of the mother fucks that lives there. James also gives me jobs before anyone else ‘cause he knows I’ll help out at times like this, too,” Joel said. His boots, which had begun to dry after trudging through the water to get here, were getting soaked through again. Cass looked smug atop her distinctly dry, and slightly-higher-than-milk crate-height rubble while she drank deeply. “I like the place I sleep to be as dry as possible. I’m simple like that.”
Dry, preferably somewhat level. Warm too, would be great. Either I had the lowest standards for sleeping agreements of any Legate, or I was at the bottom of the list of Legates who got the comfortable places to stay. Adding this to the collection of weird shit about me that’s probably always been the case, even before the brain damage.
“You’re lucky your rooms on the second floor, then,” She said. Cass held the flask between her knees as she fished out another cigarette. The wind changed direction for a moment and showered the two with rain before it pulled back again. It left Cass with a scowl as she tried and failed to make her lighter strike, and made Joel wipe the water from his eyes with a mirrored expression. He knew he should’ve grabbed the damn goggles. After a few minutes of struggle, she was able to light it, and the offending device disappeared once more.
“You think Legion got a flood plan out here in the desert?” Cass asked, cigarette between her teeth as she took hold of her flask once more. “You’d think our lord and saviour Caesar would make all his special little men prepare for any natural disaster conceivable.”
“You’re not wrong, I bet. At least, they’re more organized than the NCR. It’s a miracle these California types have lasted this long. It’s like fourteen toddlers with service riffles against an actual army, and somehow the toddlers are managing to hold their own.” He did take the cigarette when offered, then continued after it’d been passed back. “Probably have practised procedures in place to break down a camp fast in case of an invasion. Bet they did that, then just moved to higher ground.”
“You probably lead enough of ‘em, bet the old you would know,” she replied. “You think NCR would be smart enough to strike while Legions uprooted like this?”
“You’re funny,” Joel said with a snort. “Like I said, NCR’s gonna be too busy picking up their own damn pieces to push the advantage. If anything, the Legion’ll get their shit together sooner and probably kick the fuck out of a few places. Forlorn Hope is lucky as hell that they’re higher up, and even then I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re under Legion control once this is done.”
“House’ll probably keep The Strip safe, but it’ll be interesting to see who owns what after all this is said and done,” Cass sighed as she flicked the butt out into the water again. “Well, want to head back? You’re up to your ankles and my toes are starting to get wet. I’ve got some Olde Royale and a set of dry clothes with my name on them.”
“I don’t know why you asked why I bothered to help the Garrets. You live at the Wrangler as much as I do. The 38 is basically a vacation home for you when you want slightly higher living standards,” Joel said as he stepped off his milk crate and immediately dropped further down than he’d expected, with the water rushing by up past his knees. “ Deodamnatus, bloody hell. Watch out, water’s come up a fuck ton. I’m not carrying you, so don’t fall.”
That was a lie. If worse came to worst and she got hurt, I’d carry her all the way out to Hidden Valley if it meant she got medical help and was safe. If she died, it'd be inconvenient.
“Fuck off,” Cass bit back as she hopped off her rubble. She sank into the water up to her mid-thigh. “Jesus Mary and whoever the third guy was, when the hell did it get this cold? Come on, let’s get back before you start speaking any more Latin and I need to get my fucking pocket dictionary out.”
“Métetelo por el- hm, fuck, I lost the word,” He replied as they began to wade across the street together. They were a few blocks down from the Wrangler, which meant now they had to walk upstream against the current. It had taken them a bit to find cover with a good view.
One of the same six kids from earlier had found a stick and was now waving it around like she was the lord of all eternity. She slapped it against the water, and all those around her scattered to avoid her gleeful wrath. She and the others still stayed clear of the pair crossing the street, though. Her Highness knew when to pick her battles.
“That’s Spanish, and it’s not a fucking loophole to what I said,” Cass hissed, though her voice was nearly drowned out by the rain. “Whatever cock is in either language, you can suck mine.”
“I can’t usually think of words just whenever, it’s mostly muscle memory,” Joel mused as they trudged. “Hm. Verga? Sounds about right. Ment- mentula? Fuck, I think I butchered that one. Arcade would know more, he actually speaks the language.”
“That wasn’t incentive to start listing words. And you speak it a hell of a lot better than Arcade, it’s just behind the brain damage wall,” Cass explained as she attempted to shield her eyes from the rain. “You have more lived experience with it than him.”
“Hm, yes, lived experience of being a Roman reenactor that took things way too seriously under the iron fist of a man who I doubt can guess how many ‘a’s are in his name,” he replied as he stepped out of the way of some scrap wood shooting by. “I’m sure I have much over his formal education.”
“Fair enough. You speak other languages too, though,” She said as she dodged the same wood. “Spanish for sure. Hey, you think-
Cass was cut off by the shrieks of the kids now behind them, in a distinctly different tone than they had been screaming before. All of them were now, ironically enough, flooding towards the two in a panic as a figure struggled up from the water in pursuit. It looked like a feral ghoul, one that had been swept up by the rising waters and carried into Freeside. It was pale and bloated from the water, skin sloshing off as it made an Olympic-worthy attempt to surge toward the kids, who at least had the common sense to run in the other direction. Unfortunately for them, that meant struggling against the current.
“Ah shit,” Joel cursed as he changed direction and started back towards the commotion.
“Hey, dumbass, you’re not armed!” Cass called after him as she stayed where she was.
“They called me Dentes for a reason, and it wasn’t for my exceptionally performed dental surgeries!” He reminded her, his lip curled to show his metal canines even though she was well behind him, as he picked up his pace to an unsteady jog. One of the kids, the water nearly up to his chest, had fallen behind the others. The ghoul wailed as it managed to shift to another gear and stumble faster now that easy prey was in sight.
“You fucking idiot,” Cass barked as she started to follow after him.
The other kids waded past Joel, who, thanks to not having to fight against the current and his possession of a for the most part functional muscular system, reached the last kid before the ghoul. He grabbed the boy under the arm and hauled him forward, depositing him upright further upstream, just as Cass arrived to help pull him even further up. As Joel turned back around, he was met by the very wet and decidedly unpleasant feeling of a water-logged feral ghoul lunging at him.
He was suddenly reminded of a very distinct memory. When he was young, a bitch due for pups in the next few days had gone missing. She’d gotten pulled out of a nearby lake some weeks later, a few slaves had found her caught in the reeds and recognized the collar marking her a Legion dog. Joel remembered the wet, rotting smell of her, sitting in the middle of the kennel floor, while the others decided what to do with her. He couldn’t remember any of their faces, or what their voice sounded like, but he knew they’d been there. Her belly was swollen from the water, something that made her look like she had double the litter she really did. Her fur had fallen off in clumps, some of it sat in the pool of water that had begun to form below her. The feeling of putting his hand on the bitch, and watching it sink through her like she was made of melted butter, compounded by the smell, was probably one of the clearest memories of his past he’d had in some time.
What normal kid’s first instinct when he sees a dead dog is to touch it? Fuck, that explains a lot about why I’m the way I am now.
The ghoul, having no respect for the moment Joel clearly needed, continued its attempt to tackle him. An attempt that failed spectacularly, as it was smaller than Joel, and seemed to almost disintegrate upon contract. Its head bounced off his shoulder, a sizable dent forming in the ghoul’s skull, as its jaw dropped like it had been held on by tape and a half-assed prayer.
Well, on the upside, I don’t need to bite this thing to take it down. I don’t want whatever disease it has, I have enough already.
Joel instead grabbed it by the remains of its shredded shirt, which then immediately began to fall apart into threads. It held up long enough though for him to pull the ghoul away, and land a horrifically squishy punch to its skull. No skull should have the consistency of moldy fruit. The ghoul went down like a sack of dirt, and was swept back off down the road, a cloud of brown in the water following in its wake. Considering how easy that was, that kid probably could’ve managed that fight and won.
“Well that fucking sucked,” Joel commented as he turned to Cass behind him. She hadn’t lifted a finger, not that he needed her to, and looked deeply amused at the entire situation. “See? That’s why I’m not running any jobs during this bullshit weather. All it gets me is covered in wet ghoul skin.”
“Well, at least you don’t need to worry about washing off,” She replied with a nod up at the rain, which had already started to rinse off some of the coagulated goop on him. Great, now he was cold, wet, and bathed in gore, plus he wasn’t even getting paid for it.
“Right, what a blessing,” Joel replied flatly. “Fucking hell. Let’s get back inside before we find a soggy deathclaw or something out here”
“Hey, look on the bright side. Now you can say you’ve killed a ghoul with a single punch,” Cass said as the two started back up the street. It seemed like the kids had scatted off to higher ground, and hopefully back to their parents.
“It was like punching wet cardboard, that’s not an achievement,” He grumbled.
“I bet the old you would’ve jumped right on that story. Legionaries would’ve talked about it for years to come around the campfire. The Legate that could take down a feral with one hit,” Cass said, waving her arm with flourish. “Now you’re just some boring dude that saves kids like everyone else.”
“I’m not boring. Does all the weird shit we’ve done mean nothing to you?” Joel asked. He felt more offended than was probably warranted. “I’m a vaguely better person now. That’s not boring, that just means there’s one less raging Legion cunt out there, and one more slightly above-average asshole.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
“I sleep great, I’ll have you know. The plus side to there not being a thought behind these eyes is that I lay down, and I’m out like a light.”
“Okay, well now you’re just showing off.”
“We can find someone to shoot you in the head too, then we can both sleep great at night.”
“I’d rather not.”
“Boring.”
-
Joel sat on the floor of his room in the Wrangler in his boxers with his anti-material riffle spread out before him, meticulously going through its cleaning routine by lantern light for the fourth time since the rain had started. The power had been cut some time ago to avoid the water flooding the first floor and electrocuting anyone. Cass sat with even less on, that is to say, nothing, as she lounged in an armchair and watched him work. Both their clothes were hung up to dry, and neither had seen any point in getting dressed until they’d dried off too. The only thing that saved Joel from a view he didn’t really need to see was the pre-war geography book filled with post-war notes that sat in Cass’s lap.
Where the hell did she even get that chair? Did she drag that out here from the 38?
“New York,” She said.
“State and a City. Part of the US, out on the east coast,” Joel replied, removed bipod in hand. Cass had taken up quizzing him on different topics to get him up to speed with everything he’d forgotten, and it had already saved him more than a few times out of jobs.
Everyone in the wasteland needs to stop making important things pre-war references. Just make your terminal password your pet's name or something like a normal fucking person.
“Which ocean and what happened to it?” She asked as she pushed a strand of wet hair out of her eyes. Hers hung down like a soggy wet plant dropped on top of her head, while Joel had tied his even longer hair up into a bun. He didn’t need water dripping down onto his gun parts.
“The damn one that's not the Pacific. And it was hit directly by at least one nuke, I think,” he said, squinting in thought. “The city got fucked into a crater, I’m pretty sure.”
“Close enough,” She shrugged and turned the page. “Paris.”
“City, France, over in… Europe. Got its shit kicked pre-war before the bombs,” He said. He really needed a better bipod, this one had a bit too much duct tape for his liking. Really, any amount should be too much, no matter the gun. It had held up this long though, so who was he to judge.
“About right. I’ve seen pictures of the Eiffel Tower from there, and I don’t know what’s got everyone so worked up about it. It’s just some big metal spike and it’s not even that impressive,” Cass replied as she let her head fall back against the over-stuffed chair. “You think it’s still standing?”
“I don’t know what that is, but weirder things have happened than a giant metal spike surviving a few wars,” Joel said. “I remember that ghoul in that motherfucking son of a whore casino mentioning Paris. He’d performed there, I think
“Ooh, the Sierra Madre. Even the name sounds so interesting and romantic. Can’t believe you didn’t take me with you,” Cass said as she moved the book off her lap so that she could sit cross-legged on the chair.
Hm. Didn’t need to see that. This isn’t a view I want.
“ First of all, it wasn’t interesting, it was the most tedious fucking place I’ve ever dealt with,” Joel listed as he gave her a hard look, and kept his eyes firmly on her face, determined to not let them wander anywhere else. “Second of all, it wasn’t romantic, the most romantic part of the entire clusterfuck was the romance those ghost bastards had with trying to disembowel me. And thirdly, I was knocked unconscious. I would’ve loved to have had your help there if I could’ve brought you. Also, why do you say romantic like you want me to take you somewhere romantic?”
“‘Cause I think it'd be hilarious for us to show up to some uppity romantic getaway, us being who we are,” She replied with a smile. “Two people who look like some shit found in a desert ditch.”
“You don’t even like me, why would you want that? That aside, no offence, but I don’t think you’re changing the way I swing any time soon. I think I'm pretty committed to the team I play for,” Joel said as he gave her an incredulous look.
“Yeah yeah, you're the gayest fuck the Legion’s ever produced, I know. And I don’t like you that way, I just think it’d be really funny, and those facts would make it even funnier,” She said with a wave of her hand dismissively. “On the topic, you need to raise your standards for men, and that’s coming from me.”
“Jesus fuck. Why do you do this to me?” Joel groaned as he focused back on the task at hand, which was still inspecting the duct tape on his bipod. “Is this about the-”
“Yes it’s about him!” She said with an exasperated gesture. “I mean, that guy walked up to me first, lookin’ like he’d done fourteen hits of jet and fucked a mole rat before he stumbled inside. That pipe pistol he had looked like it doubled as a fucking wrench, and not in a well-engineered way.”
“Okay, so he wasn’t armed with quality, not everyone can afford the good stuff,” He defended as he pulled off a strip of duct tape that had begun to peel up.
“He walked like he’d already gone ten rounds earlier that day, and I don’t mean in a fight,” She replied flatly. “I do have to hand it to him though, he took my ‘no’ like a champ and shambled off again. But the thing is, then he walked up to you, said maybe five words, and the deal was sealed.”
“Hey, it was seven words. I remember all of them because he was very persuasive, thank you very much,” Joel said as he stuck the peeled-off tape to the floor.
“Listen, my standards for men are higher, and that’s saying something, Legion boy,” She said with a pointed look. “Anyway-”
For the second time that day, Cass was cut off mid-sentence. Someone had thrown open the door to Joel's room, that someone being James, despite it absolutely having been locked.
“Hey, we need you two- woah, okay, bit early for tits out, isn't it?” James said, as he marched inside, saw Cass, then immediately turned on his heel to face outwards again.
“Yeah, cover them up, slut,” Cass said to Joel as she leaned her elbow casually on the chair's armrest. He was suspicious that if she had a shirt in range, she would’ve thrown it at him.
“It’s only noon. Seems like reasonable tits out time,” Joel replied as he set the bipod back on the floor. “What’s the job and are we getting paid?”
“Both of you at least get pants first. I know this is a whore house, but we’re closed for the storms, so put some damn clothes on,” James said as he stood firmly with his eyes averted and his hands on his hips.
“You really need to stop opening the door without knocking. Anything could’ve been happening in here. Could’ve been dissecting a cazador for all you know,” Joel said as he got to his feet and began the hunt for dry clothes. “Could’ve been practising our grenade making.”
“Right, we might’ve been deep into a reenactment of a pre-war sports tournament,” Cass continued as she also stood for the same goal. “Could’ve been working on our botany skills.”
“Only you two would be working on botany while alone and naked behind a closed door instead of anything else. Goddamn freaks,” James said as he rubbed his eyes.
“Yeah, but we’re your heavily armed and highly skilled freaks. For hire. Specifically as long as you pay us. You still haven't told us the job,” Joel said as he found a dry, mostly not blood-stained, shirt, which were his only two standards for clothing. “And we were actually learning geography.”
“Joel’s the only guy I know who’d rather work on his riffle and be quizzed on pre-war shit than stare at me while I’m just trying to dry off from that fucking rain and be comfortable,” Cass added.
“I don't even want to know,” James sighed. “I need you two to go out there and get us more supplies while everyone else is all stirred up. We need to be able to hold our own here once the water’s back down and reopen as soon as possible. You two are freaks, you and every weird fuck you bring in here, but you’re the most competent ones I know and the best for the job.”
“He’s just saying that because none of his other supply runners are here,” Cass stage whispered to Joel, who’d now successfully also found a pair of dry jeans.
“Damn, we’re gonna have to reschedule our lessons on brahmin husbandry,” Joel said sarcastically with a deep sigh. “Cass, think we can fit it in our schedule before we work on our ancient monument reconstruction project?”
“Hmm, we’ll need to move our plans to go sand skiing to Thursday, but I think we can make it work,” Cass mused. When Joel turned back, she was dressed again with clothes from her travel pack, a hand on her chin, and a contemplative expression. “Right, we’ll take the job. Also, Joel’s put his tits away, you’re safe now.”
“Yeah, Joel’s the one I was talking about,” James mumbled as he turned back around. “I know you two just came back in from out there, but I’m betting it’ll only be worse tomorrow.”
“Oh, can we raid the supplies for better gear before we go?” Joel asked, suddenly excited at the prospect of finding a coat that actually did anything at all.
“Sure, but if you two die out there and don’t come back with anything, I’m charging you for it,” James replied sternly.
“Guess you are going out in the water for a job then,” Cass said as she began to pack her bag back up.
“Yeah, of course. James looks scary. I’d fear for my life if I turned down the job,” Joel said casually as he nodded toward the other man, who was half a foot shorter than him. “Let’s get this supply run over with before he beats me up or something.”
“I wouldn’t beat you up, I’d just start charging you rent,” James commented as he leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Ah fuck, now that’s a real threat,” Joel said as he suddenly gained the motivation to pack his gear faster. “I’m leaving that gun here. The one in pieces on the floor. It’d just get in the way for this one, so don’t touch it till we’re back.”
“I like to avoid being in your room as much as possible, but I’ll try to remember not to kick the pieces around if I need to go riffling through your shit,” James said as Cass swung her bag over her shoulder. “Don’t forget your pip-boy.”
“Dammit, right,” Joel said as he scooped the device off his nightstand and fastened it back on his wrist. “You got a list of stuff you need?”
“I’ll give it to you on your way out,” James said with a dismissive gesture. “You two go dig up whatever you’re bringing, then meet me upstairs before you leave.”
With that, the man pushed away from the door frame and was gone around the corner. Evidently, the two of them had maxed out his resistance to their bullshit for the time being.
“Ready to hit the soggy, flooded, and probably washed-out road?” Cass asked as she watched Joel fasten his machete to his belt.
“Ready as the day my ass was hauled out of a shallow grave,” Joel replied with a sharp, metal-toothed smile.
“So not prepared at all, but you’ll do it anyway with enthusiasm?”
“Yep, absolutely. I’ve got no plan and nothing to lose as usual, so let’s go all in.”
“I’m suspicious you’ve always been this way, and it’s not just the severe brain damage.”
“What can I say, I was just born this way.”
“Born a strange fuckin’ man, more like.”
“Yeah, that about sums it up,”