welcome
Welcome delinquents to PHS #552. A few reminders, no rough housing, no running in the hallways, no cheating, and no talking back to your teachers. Beyond that, enjoy yourselves. After all these are the years you’ll look back on, and remember, you mother fuckers peaked too early.
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credits
Public Highschool #552 was rebooted by Xereon and Aether. Content is copyrighted to PHS #552 unless otherwise stated. The skin is created by Wolf of Gangnam Style. The board and thread remodel is by Kagney and has been heavily edited. Banner Image Credit. Chatbox Credit
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NEW RP DISCORD SERVER. CONTACT "Shugo Yuy#5730" ON DISCORD FOR INFO.
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COME IN COME ALL AND WATCH THE SPECTACULAR STUDENTS FROM PUBLIC HIGH SCHOOL 552 AS THEY PIT AGAINST EACH OTHER IN BAREKNUCKLE BEATDOWN! Watch as students go toe to toe on this little tournament with an unbelievable budget allocation! See them bite each other in arena made of LEGOS! Make each other bleed in an artificial JUNGLE!, even go as far as making them break bones under an artificial STORM! Really, HOW BIG IS THE BUDGET ON THIS SHIT! SO PLACE OUR BETS AND GO WATCH BAREKNUCKLE BEATDOWN NOW!
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A brand new group is on the making, The Apostles, a Pillar-like group led by none other than our brand new headmaster, Gregoire Girard. A student body that would lead students and enforce the law on this little school of ours. Little is still known about this student body, but who knows? It might just be what the school needs.
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A lunch box is seen last Friday, around 12:37:08pm with an encouraging note packed inside. This appalling display that utterly lacked manliness has left many students stunned and outrage, as some decided, after a long while, to speak out against it.
Full Story Here.
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Giving Thanks [SPEED EVENT]
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Never say anything that doesn't improve on silence.
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Administrator
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Post by Markus Eckhardt on Nov 13, 2015 21:38:49 GMT -5
This speed event will be run much differently from all others you're used to. You will be given a prompt, with which you will be required to write a one-shot post (from 200-500 words, minimum and maximum). Rewards will vary based on the quality of the one-shot post provided.
There is no limit to the amount of players who can join, but each player is limited to one character. This event will remain open for a total of two hours before being closed, and graded.
Prompt: Thanksgiving.
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Never say anything that doesn't improve on silence.
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Spumoni
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Post by Trasci 令 Brooks on Nov 13, 2015 21:49:54 GMT -5
The brisk autumn hair nipped at her nose as she walked down the New York street. She passed the occasional tree as it dropped golden and crimson leaves into the air. The girl stopped and glanced up at the leaves in silence. She had never seen leaves change in such a beautiful manner before today. This was the first autumn season she was capable of bearing witness to in a long while. Up until now, her consciousness had been locked away as a prisoner in her own body. She could only remember the sticky and hot year round weather of south California. To be able to be wear a scarf and jacket while strolling without sweating... well it was amazing.
Everything was amazing.
Trasci would be able to see the Christmas lights and hear the carols being sung. She had never been able to see them, even before giving up and allowing Rei to control her. The girl had always been cooped up in her room- alone. Even when she got a cousin around her age, Trasci didn't spend much time with him that she could remember. To be able to experience a holiday season for the first time in forever was amazing. To be capable of doing so... was well, beyond spectacular. Trasci had never been able to properly give thanks in her previous life. She had been stifled and smothered under the weight of her father's oppressive attitude.
This year, Trasci just knew good things were going to happen! She smiled softly to herself before continuing her walk. She was thankful for the ability to be able to bear witness to the beautiful season around her for the first time in her life.
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I won't let it set you free 'til I break you.
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❤️ Buff Bara Babe Brigade ❤️
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Post by Bianca "Reine" Lucani on Nov 13, 2015 22:16:39 GMT -5
Though this might just be the ending Of the life I held so dear But I won't run, There's no turning back from here
"Thanksgiving, huh...?" Bianca sat in her dorm room all by herself, sitting on the floor with a short table beside her with room for three. She didn't have much money, but she managed to buy a small Thanksgiving meal for herself. On the table, there was a small candle burning that illuminated the room slightly, but she mostly sat in darkness. The sound of the TV could be heard, playing random cartoons to kill the silence. The white haired girl sat there, red eyes just staring at the candle in front of her. It was a day to remember what you're thankful for, but what was there to be thankful for anymore? She used to sit like this on the floor with Nero and Umbra, eating together and being happy as a family. But now she was alone. There was a brief happiness she found in the BBBB when she was with Sirynn, but it was taken from her grasp as well. So what did she have anymore? Bianca took a bite of her meal sadly, chewing slowly and not really enjoying it. The girl, normally appearing as a hardass to everyone around her, wished she had someone to accompany her on this day. She wanted so badly for her siblings, or for Sirynn, her only friend, to walk in. She kept hoping for it, wishing they'd just kick the door down and invite themselves in. But as much as she hoped for it, no such thing happened. "What am I thankful for...?" She muttered to herself, getting lost in thought. She had changed a lot since arriving at this school. She had come here to get revenge on a school that had took her brother from her, but he survived and became a part of something bigger. Left without her revenge, she didn't have anything until she had met Sirynn. "Sirynn..." Sirynn had changed her. Sirynn had given her a new direction. Once drawn by bloodlust, Bianca began to see the value in other people, she began to feel emotions she thought long extinct. She began to care. So much that she willingly threw herself in harm's way to try and protect Sirynn from the Sentinel's attacks... and Sirynn did her best to protect Bianca while she was in the hospital, despite all of the trauma they had gone through. Her kindness and devotion meant the world to Bianca, and even though she was gone right now... it didn't mean that Bianca couldn't live on with Sirynn's teachings in her heart. The short, pink fluff ball had taught her more in a short time than anyone else had in her entire lifetime. It was thanks to Sirynn that Bianca was even alive, let alone learning to care about people and value emotions and interaction. She learned what was important. That was something to be thankful for. "Thank you, Sirynn... here's to you." She said, a weak smile on her face. Wherever Sirynn was, Bianca hoped that Sirynn's night was far better than her's, and that she was thinking of her too. "I'll be a good girl 'til you get back..."
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You're allowed to scream. You're allowed to cry. But do not give up.
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Hyperion
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Post by ᎳᎬᏁᎠᎥᎶᎾ on Nov 13, 2015 22:49:04 GMT -5
If You're Gonna Bethe death of me that's how i want to go
The smell of cooked meat. Cigar smoke. Alcohol. Sounds of laughter. Quiet insults. Murmured threats. Just another Thanksgiving with her extended family at their estate. Wendy sat in a light blue dress with a soft white cardigan set upon her shoulders and stared at the pale plate in front of her, focusing on the way it reflected the flickering light of the chandelier above.
It was hard to enjoy or be thankful for anything at that moment, besides the obvious things. A roof over her head. Food to eat. You know. But every Thanksgiving she could only think of something she lost. The last few times, Wendy had been sitting next to her. Now she was gone. The seat next to her was taken up by Velour. She could still hear the lost one's voice echoing in her mind from her last phone call she gave her before things fell into the dark. Somehow, it felt as though it was Wendy's fault, simply because she couldn't stop it.
The girl took a bite of turkey, but the meat felt dry and flavorless in her mouth. She quickly took a sip of water to wash it down.
Somehow, Wendy always managed to blame herself. She felt as though she was every mistake she'd ever made, every person she'd hurt, every lie she'd told... like she was made of flaws.
But this was Thanksgiving. She had to find something to be thankful for, she couldn't just sit and steep in sorrow. Wendy turned her gaze to the window and took a deep breath.
"I'm thankful for..." she murmured, "The time when things were good. It was beautiful. Things may be different now, but they can get better. I know they can. Just..."
She turned her gaze down to her lap, and a wry smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
"Just come back again someday, would you? I miss your smile. You have such pretty eyes, you know."
I'll suffer, I'll bleed Lose everything I'll get my wings Fall from belief Fall to my knees And you will see
| TAGGED @tagged WORD COUNT 2lazy NOTES ---
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MADE BY ★MEULK
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Never say anything that doesn't improve on silence.
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Post by Lance Stryker on Nov 13, 2015 22:51:43 GMT -5
Lance had been happy. Really really happy. He had prepared everything for himself. Saved the money to buy the turkey. To fill said turkey with stuffing until it was ready to burst. He had somehow managed to grab the only functioning oven in the crap shack of a dorm he lived at and he had looked as the turkey had begun its journey from raw to perfection. Well, as perfect as an in-experienced cook as he, could make the turkey. As it roasted in the oven, Lance began to stir into the store bought cranberry sauce - his funds did not extend as far as he had thought, the turkey had been more expensive than thought, but it did not matter. It was far more than he had ever expected of himself.
Back on the west coast he had ever only experienced thanksgivings once, it had been a myriad of excellent food that a seven year old kid had never tasted before. The rich taste of the turkey, hints of the stuffing emanating through the flesh, it exploded and overwhelmed his feeble taste buds. Since then he had had a dream to re-ignite that tender memory of a decade past. One of his fondest memories and his favorite replacement-dad he had ever had.
Lance had contemplated inviting the few people he considered friends here on the east coast, but in the end he had been too scared to invite even one of them... What if no one showed up, he could not survive such a savage blow to his slowly assembling self-confidence. Best if he didn't dare entertain such notions. But it hardly mattered, he knew once he sunk his teeth into that perfectly roasted turkey that he would be back in the days of his pre-teens as a kid with no concept of the future or hardship... He would be carefree for the first time since moving to five-five-two. Life had been a hell-hole since that day. It had not been easy before, but since... Best to focus upon the turkey.
Said turkey was taken from the oven. It was golden brown. He could see the drops of delicious fat as it trailed down the side of the turkey, finishing the perfect glazed turkey. Lance felt proud of himself. This was his masterpiece of his life thus far. He cut into the turk-
- Heavy lids opened seven minutes later. A thundering headache in the mind and his jaw felt like it been chewing rock for the past two days. Through blurred eyes he saw what looked like ten humanoid jackals tearing into his perfect turkey and drinking his store-bought cranberry sauce. Lance only remained focused for a brief moment before he felt himself slip again... A singular sarcastic thought as he passed out.
Thanks five-five-two.
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I don't need a reason to protect others.
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Aggressive Pursuit
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No Group
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Post by Miyamoto Kenji on Nov 13, 2015 22:54:05 GMT -5
Lazing on his couch with a freshly-cooked plate of food on his coffee table, Kenji quietly watched Red vs Blue, mostly to have some background noise while he pondered the implications of the day. Technically, his country celebrated their own form of Thanksgiving - Labor Thanksgiving Day, the 23rd of every November - with a near-identical theme, but since he was now living in the US, he thought that he might as well wait until today to celebrate it with the rest of the country.
That being said, just what was Kenji thankful for? Did he have much these days to be thankful for? Anybody could say that they were happy to be alive and thankful for that, but it was ultimately a copout answer. His entire family and the majority of his friends were back in the east, and because of recent events during the last few months, he'd had to actively keep his head down in school and essentially isolate himself from those few friends and acquaintances he'd made stateside in order to keep them from becoming involved. The easterner rubbed his temple and reached over, swiping a bun from his plate and chewing on it while he continued to ponder.
On the other hand, Kenji did have something heartwarming to be thankful for, something that he hadn't thought of in months, but was the very reason he was in the west to begin with: his sisters. Without any level of hesitation before and during the act, and with no regret after the fact, the modern swordsman had sacrificed his personal life so that two of his sisters would not only live, but do so safely. To this day, all four of them were yet happy and leading respectable lives that they enjoyed. Had anything been different, two of them might be dead, and the other could've fell from grace out of despair. God knows what kind of person Kenji himself would've become, though he imagined that it would have something to do with his ghastly moniker.
'Vampire,' indeed.
Chuckling at this realization, Kenji sat up and reached for his phone, his other hand striking his controller to pause Red vs Blue as he chewed on his bun, teething it further into his mouth and wolfing it down so he'd be able to talk. As the bun passed his throat, he dialed his first sibling, the phone displaying Suguha's name and ringing as he brought it to his ear.
"Konbanwa, nii-san," (Good evening, brother) his kendo-loving sister picked up. Kenji heard both her taking in air, clearly about to say something else, and the rest of his sisters chatting in the background. Without waiting, he spoke.
"Happī kansha-sai, Sugu. Watashi wa, anata o aishiteimasu. Anata no subete." (Happy Thanksgiving, Sugu. I love you, all of you.)
In the end, that's what Kenji was thankful for: the family who he killed for, so that he could continue to be thankful for them for the rest of his life.
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Post by Jason Wynn on Nov 13, 2015 22:55:53 GMT -5
Jason took the hands of his family. This time last year, he was looking at his family through a phone a guard held up to the cell door. Jail wasn’t some extension of a persona portrayed in the movies. It wasn’t some cess-pool of rape or fighting either. People sat around in a cattle rack, coughing or sleeping. They were putting him in the room with the “adults” to scare him, but a guard never left the white brick and paint across the way. He didn’t ever really feel like he was in trouble. Still, he’d been here for a few days before the trial and…in his luck, it happened to fall on a holiday he enjoyed. Food and delights were rained from the heavens at his family’s house and he was stuck here with a growling stomach, sitting next to a man who smelled too much like piss and liquor. He scooted a little more to the edge of the bench and snorted, trying to keep the smell from traveling through his nose and toward his taste buds. He failed in the attempt, but at least it took his mind off it. He wondered often if he did what was right in covering for his sister. The other guy was still out there. Still preying on innocent little kids. Intent to use their juvenile status to cash in on ignorance and pity of both cops and district courts. Times like this made him almost regret not letting them take her until she spilled the beans. He knew she would- she was stubborn because so many people let her get away with things. They were enablers, and he was no better. If she was in his seat right now she probably would have wet herself. Then, Jason saw her face on the phone. Saw the big grin with a mouth full of turkey. Her clothes were different, her hair neat and cut. He told her to “stop trying to be what everyone else wanted and to love herself, for him”. It looked like she was trying to do that. For that reason alone, on thanksgiving and in jail, Jason smiled. Now, he was out and at the table with them, holding hands. A family tradition. To hold each others hands and feel connected while you said what was on your mind. While you let everyone whose blood brought them to your table understand a little piece of you this last year. Jason wasn’t sure what he would say when the time came to speak, so he just spoke before his brain could really catch up. “I’m thankful…for all of you. And God’s, I’m thankful for food.” There were a few chuckles before his mom smiled and spoke up. “Happy Thanksgiving everyone. Dig in.” And so he did. Thread is **OPEN** Mood: Happy Physical Status: Healthy and undamaged Music: " Thanksgiving song" "I wish I could see what you see in me...."
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I'm gonna make you bend and break.
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THE IRON DRAGON
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Dragons
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Post by Macht Stärke on Nov 13, 2015 23:20:18 GMT -5
Macht sighed as he sat in the hospital, watching Jenny's monitor. It beeped monotonously, marking the time like the clock on the wall - the combined, incessant, asynchronous ticking from both was almost maddening, like a never-ending reminder of his sister's unchanging condition. It'd grown to the point where Macht simply listened and picked apart the pattern of the mild cacophony, as it was much easier than focusing on what may or may not happen to Jenny. Why worry whether or not she'd be okay if there was nothing he could do about it? Instead, just... count sheep. Or, in this case, observe the monotony. Tick. Beep. Tock. Tick. Beep. Tock. Beep. Tick. Tock. Beep. As he nearly lost himself in thought - or rather, a lack of it - he was suddenly overcome with everything that had happened to him this year alone. Thanksgiving was nearing, and yet... what did he truly have to be thankful for? Looking back, his own aspirations and ambitions cost both him and those he held dearly too much, so much, in fact, that it was unbearable to let weigh on his shoulders. Even when he'd done everything he could to help others, things just seemed to fall apart all around him. This year alone, RIOT launched several attacks on the school that killed many students and Regulators who were supposed to be under Macht's own care. Some were friends, some he may have even considered family, and he failed to protect all of them. Instead, he laid batter and broken alongside many of his comrades. RIOT only launched yet another attack not a month later, and the body count rose tremendously, despite Macht taking out an Elite on his own. Two major events and he had, what, over one hundred bodies dropped because of his own short-comings? Then there was FEAR, where he sent an innocent woman to her death, then lost both an arm and a leg. His sister was hospitalized by his best friend - a woman he thought he loved - and another man who was supposed to be his comrade. Then, he meets a woman he falls for, and upon opening up, she stabs him and sends him through hell, and when he fought for her not long after, it cost his brother an eye. So... Thanksgiving? What did Macht have to be thankful for, when he sat beside his comatose sister? Nothing--- Ring.Ring. Ring. Macht's negative thoughts were interrupted by his phone. Begrudgingly, he looked down to see who it was that called him, and upon seeing his screen, his face lit up. Maybe he did have something - or rather, someone - to be thankful for. And she called him at just the right time. "Hey, Ira. You busy? Can I see you?"
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Let's sleep through the end of this world.
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❝ Iconoclast ❞
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Lightning Gang
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Post by Ira Defaire on Nov 13, 2015 23:26:06 GMT -5
The beginning as well as the end of all her thoughts was the hatred of humans, shadowed by an underlying affection. The two emotions twisted into a juxtaposition of a being that sat alone in her dingy apartment, staring out of her window in anguish whilst she tightly clenched the glass of alcohol in her hands. Her breath was utterly foul after a few swings, and her hand slacked under the weight of the glass bottle.
Alcohol made thought a whirlwind.
Turning around, she aimed her glass bottle at the pathetic, forlorn thanksgiving tree that she had excitedly brought, waving off any off-handed comments about it being a Christmas tree. That was irrelevant—she simply needed an excuse to keep herself busy, but her tinsel and baubles that laid limply on those green leaves reminded her too much of her thanksgiving.
There was, however, one thing that unnerved her. It was swaying slightly, and there were no gushes of wind in the room. The window was shut firmly by her hours ago, and every little noise made her whipped her drunken head around in fright. That was surreptitious. Unless…
“What are you?”
“I’m the spirit of the Thanksgiving Tree.” It shifted once more. “And you have offended me.”
“How?” she demanded, as she completely disregarded the fact that she was conversing with a tree. It was a normal tree; slightly on the humongous side, and never in her life had she heard of news that concerned a tree that could talk and sway.
“By these lame-ass decorations…” It mumbled. Ira glared. “I mean, the lack of decorations. Don’t you own any better turkey baubles?”
Disregarding its last comment, Ira cocked an eyebrow. “So how can I make you happy again?”
“Your shirt must come off~” It stated shamelessly.
Letting loose a long breath, the tree was met with a scoff as the young girl yanked off her shirt, revealing another shirt underneath. Without pausing, she slapped the tree across the middle branches obstinately, letting loose a few wrenched war cries to ensure that the atmosphere, was indeed, like a raging battlefield of utterly terrified screaming from the tree.
“Get out of there, you stupid German!” She shrieked.
After another few beats of silence, a mop of red hair could be spotted, peaking out from the side of the tree. The School Captain was smirking at her, as he raised his hands to the air as a sign of defeat. His green eyes sparkled at the sight of her, and she wondered, for the moment, if she should smack or hug the mischievous grin off his face.
“Smells like chicken.” Macht sniffed the air as he pulled off his coat and swung it over Ira’s sofa, as he blatantly ignored her attempts to smack him. “I hope your cooking evolved from burning things.”
On second thought, hugging could wait.
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I'm fine in the fire, I feed on the friction. I'm right where I should be. Don't try and fix me..
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Apex Warriors
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Post by "Knuckles" on Nov 14, 2015 0:03:57 GMT -5
And here it was again, that time of the year. Knuckles wasn't particularly fond of holidays. Growing up, he had not had many good memories, no matter the occasion. Sure, here and there he could remember enjoying good times with the Apex gang while he was younger. But he had certainly have few 'picture perfect' experiences.
Thanks giving.. Yeah. Right. Who do I thank? My parents are in the dirt. No extended family.. Rick wheel'd it south to family.. And here I am, stuck alone.
Austin sat alone in his apartment, sprawled out on his couch and staring toward the walls. He was zoned out, his ears listening to the music he had playing in the background as he patiently awaited the buzzer. For what, you might wonder? His god damn turkey, thats what!
At the very least, Austin could thank mother nature. Because turkey was delicious. Hell, it was the only reason he even looked forward to this day. Eventually the timer went off and his mouth salivated as he stood and moved toward the oven. He was at least lucky that he had learned how to cook for himself at least a little over the last five years or so.
He hadn't prepared anything else. There was little need. He was devouring this bird by himself, so he figured that was all he was going to need. Sitting himself down, he smiled at least a little bit before he began to consume.
By the time he was finished, it was nearly picked to the bone. His stomach bulged out and his ass was planted back on the couch. Before he knew it, he was sleeping like a baby.
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Never say anything that doesn't improve on silence.
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Administrator
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Post by Markus Eckhardt on Nov 14, 2015 0:04:35 GMT -5
CLOSED
Grading pending.
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Administrator
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Post by Markus Eckhardt on Nov 14, 2015 1:51:37 GMT -5
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