Beside You in Time

[Aver Brand]

M A E N A
The Black Feather

The fancy suit was somewhere downstairs, along with the torn shirt. The cufflinks were under the bed last she saw them, but that was many hours and bodies ago.

Her own ached in all the right ways as she stirred, sore in all the places that mattered. She grinned through her first yawn of the morning and extracted her limbs from those still slumbering. Really, she only had her regeneration to thank for an early start – it had been a taxing night, and even the strongest among Sith Lords run out of stamina.

A layer of sweat still clung to her skin, bereft of bruises and scratches her lovers had imparted in the heat of many moments. She welcomed the chill of six o’clock, the burning red hues of a polluted sunrise. The terrace was as luxurious and ornate as the rest of the Presidential suite – a shameless display of what blood money could buy.

Aver never cared for it. Their apartment on Nadir was a compact studio, built for a last stand more than the comfort of living. The Equalizers spent their time living elsewhere. On battlefields, on the streets, in the gutters; wherever there was blood to spill and flesh to rend.

None of that today.

She leaned on the panelling – real wood, none of that plastic ersatz – and sipped the warm caf from a mug that probably cost a few hundred creds. It didn’t improve the taste.

[member="Irajah Ven"]​

 

[Kuzo]

In the sprawl of limbs it would have been easy to miss the fact that the smallest of the group was missing.

Sleep did not come easily these days, but that was nothing new. Gideon, the Zambranos and then the Netherworld. Nightmares were to be expected. While she had fallen asleep (who wouldn't after a night like the last?), it hadn't been for long- and when she had woken up she had slipped carefully away, rather than risk waking any of them with restlessness.

She only slipped back in come dawn, a cardboard carrying case full of paper cups of caf she'd harassed the morning crew in the kitchen to let her make herself. The only thing lacking about the Black Feather's amenities was a single staff member who knew how to make a decent cup of caf.

That wasn't fair. The bartender from last night probably would have done just fine.

The click of the door behind her was soft enough that those sleeping wouldn't even notice. But one other person was awake, leaning on the wall just inside of the balcony. Irajah paused for a moment, unsure, before padding silently across the room.

"You're up early," she observed quietly, as if she weren't the one walking in from the outside. Finger tips tapped over the tops of the covered cups, frowning very slightly before rotating the container and plucking one out to hand to [member="Aver Brand"].

"Don't drink that, that's trash. Try this."

 

[Aver Brand]

The door clicked behind her. Half-reflex, Aver flicked her gaze skyward, where her pineal sensor feed would usually be – but there was no armor, and no HUD. Just a waning sea of stars, retreating before the encroaching flames of dawn.

Feet pattered on the parquet as the familiar-unfamiliar approached. Her presence was muted, and different from what [member="Reverance"] and [member="Matsu Xiangu"] remembered. Not… smaller, though – forever changed.

Aver chuckled, blue eyes dropping to meet the bright hazel eyes staring up at her.

“Alright,” the merc conceded, accepting the proffered cup. An appreciative hum reverberated in her throat as she sipped the hot caf. “Mm. Much better. Thank you, Raj.”

“And you’re one to talk. I figured you’d all be tuckered out ‘till noon.” Placing the drink on the railing, the firrerreo stretched like a lazy cat, showing off two rows of razor teeth. “Something wake you?”

[member="Irajah Ven"]​

 

[Kuzo]

Plucking her own from the carrier (black and sweet), she set it down on a side table before padding out onto the balcony proper. Taking a small sip from the steaming liquid, she bumped her hip up against the railing, facing [member="Aver Brand"]. Knowing full well that [member="Reverance"] and [member="Carach"] were going to be at the party, she'd planned ahead with a change of clothes (dresses had a tendency to rip, after all). Clad in simple leggings and tank top, she unabashedly watched Aver stretch over the top of her cup.

"I'm a light sleeper," she murmured, a touch more evasively than she intended. Then she shrugged. "And Carach snores."

Whether he did was irrelevant. Honestly, with the press of bodies, it would have been difficult to figure out just who those snores had belonged to.

Despite the sprawl in the other part of the suite, Irajah and Aver had not interacted beyond the surface of the night. Stones skipped parallel along the surface of choppy waters. A tease, an arched eyebrow, but nothing concrete. Irajah knew that her distance was.... off putting. If she could shed it as easily as offending cloth had been, she would have. But that was asking more than she had to offer, at least, right now.

"How about you? Or does sunrise just agree with you?"

 

[Aver Brand]

“Still?” Aver snorted, picking up her caf again. The hot liquid spread warmth through her chest and belly, warding off the cold prickles of morning.

The merc shrugged and settled down on a nearby bench to reduce the absurd difference in height. Girl had to be even shorter than Matsu, which was an achievement in and of itself.

“Haven’t seen one in a while, to be honest. Nadir doesn’t get them, being a comet an’ all… but no. I don’t sleep a lot – don’t need it.” She smiled, easy and without malice for once. They’d shed a lot more than clothes during the night, and though she did not know this woman, she felt close to her all the same.

Ternion stirred across her forearms, intricate designs of wolf and spider hunting along the cords of flexing muscle.

She relished the silent company. So often, her life was a rush, fast-paced combat and lives winking out into nothing all around her. So often, Aver existed only between the beats of the heart, reduced to instinct and violence.

“You feel tired,” she spoke, cold gaze sliding from the horizon back to the woman. Was it a rude thing to say to someone you met only yesterday? Perhaps, but Aver never cared for norm or convention. “When’s the last time you didn’t sleep light?”

[member="Irajah Ven"]​

 

[Kuzo]

As more channels were cut through the ice, it was easier for others to come and go, and for Irajah to make a greater effort herself in trying to regain some of what she'd lost. The combination of the peripheral connection, through [member="Reverance"], [member="Matsu Xiangu"], and [member="Carach"] to [member="Aver Brand"] and the events of the previous night had done much to add to that thaw, to close some of that distance. Everything still felt just out of reach, but she could feel the warmth and it mattered.

Aver sitting made it easier to talk to her, certainly. Also made it less obvious when Irajah's eyes dipped slightly. Standing, after all, certain things were at face height, and the obvious tilt of her chin up or down wasn't subtle. They'd both been nude together, even if they hadn't interacted directly, but there was still a slight curl of appreciation from the shorter woman. After all, last night had been very full and busy- small moments like this were the first kind of luxury Irajah had found herself able to appreciate again after what had happened.

"I'm not familiar with Nadir," she said, leaning her weight against the railing against her hip. "I think Rev mentioned it once, but what's it like?"

Irajah didn't think the next question was rude. Pointed, yes. But rudeness was something that took a lot more deliberate intention when two people had spent a night watching each other across shared lovers. Not to mention that some of the initial aspects of getting to know someone had been thrown out long before they had met.

"Two years," she answered quietly, looking away herself when those icy eyes found her, trading places to seek the horizon. But then a ghost of a smile, a flicker of the old Raj, settled on her lips.

"It's why good caf is so important."

Not much of a joke in truth. But something.

 

[Aver Brand]

The cool metal of the railing against her back was a pleasant contrast to the near-scalding caf in her hands. Made her lazy like the massive tuk’ata that often ran by her side. With half-lidded eyes peering at Irajah over the edge of her cup, Aver seemed much like a cat just waking from sleep.

“It’s… a lot like New City. Bigger, though.” She smirked – a private, toothy little smile. “Better. Not that I’m biased.”

She shrugged, catching her hazel eyes again. Didn’t feel like a perfunctory question, either. The woman gazed at her with open curiosity. Aver gazed back with inscrutable intent – a sabacc player holding her cards close to the chest.

“It’s arching spires of rust and metal, reaching out of the red smog… boardwalks stretching to infinity, offering every entertainment under the sun… blood and bloodsports, gambling, whores, food… mm. Shootouts, drugs and guns lying in the streets next to the dead and the dying… We peddle sin to anyone who'll buy, and eventually... everyone pays the price.” Aver licked her lips, fully aware of the gesture through her grin. “Nadir is… my home.”

“Nightmares?”

An altogether alien experience for the merc herself. Absent any remorse, her sleep was never plagued by the deeds she committed in her waking hours.

[member="Irajah Ven"]​

 

[Kuzo]

Irajah listened as [member="Aver Brand"] painted the picture of her home with soft words. Hazel eyes traveled as she spoke- from glacial gaze to smirking lips and sharp teeth, from neck and lower before coasting to the familiar mark of the tattoo on her arm. Something stirred, not passionate heat but something deeper. Settled between her shoulders and an itch in the very tips of her fingers.

Just as [member="Reverance"] had inspired a play of fingers against the piano, the reminder of why she did that, something about Aver triggered a sensation of the smooth and slender draw of paintbrush against canvas. It was distant, muted, but it was the first stirrings of it and she simply watched and listened, afraid to reach out for the feeling itself lest it vanish. For now she let it sit, shy and quiet, until it was stronger.

It was the last statement, the one about home, that caught her the hardest. Not simply a description of a place, but of home as seen through the eyes of someone who loved it.

She nodded thoughtfully, absorbing the words, the motion her question a moment later as well.

Irajah murmured a soft heh, smiling, but it never reached her eyes.

"Sounds like the problem of a child, I know, but yes. Nightmares."

Child. Pale blue skin, searching yellow eyes- no.

"They're not so bad with people near by though," she murmured casting her gaze through the double doors and into the suite where the others breathed soft and heavy in the slice of dawn they occupied.

"Every time I think I've conquered the old ones, new ones nestle in behind my eyes. These at least are quieter than the others."

 

[Aver Brand]

“Then fall asleep with someone in your head.”

“We do it all the time.” She’d never spoken of her bond to anyone outside it. Not because it was a massive secret – anyone strolling through her mind could feel it – but simply because there was nothing to speak of. No explaining it without a firsthand experience.

Irajah had tasted of it, and so Aver could offer words in turn.

“Rev dreams. Wouldn’t call them nightmares, but it’s not pleasant. When I’m around it’s… less. Less fire, less smoke.” She smiled, not unkindly. “Matsu dreams, too. Just not of worlds you or I could comprehend.”

Facing [member="Matsu Xiangu"] was like facing the death of a universe. It was impossible to feel anything but awe. She instilled a sense of mortality that Vrag had once resented – Aver was old enough to appreciate it.

“You’ve lived through horrors. Walking with us you will see and commit many more,” she spoke, plainly. “It’s not always easy to keep yourself.”

Aver folded forward, offering the other woman an open palm.

“Show me?”

[member="Irajah Ven"]​

 

[Kuzo]

Then fall asleep with someone in your head.

Irajah blinked.

The thought had not merely not occurred to her, but she hadn't even considered it a possibility. If the presence of [member="Carach"], curled around her back, could muffle it, then could she ask him for this? She had been so accustomed to walking alone in the moments that fed the nightmares, that she had not thought to ask if someone would walk with her in them.

Her gaze on Aver's face as she listened to the explanation was heavy with consideration, brows furrowed and mouth in thoughtful curve.

The triangle between these three, [member="Aver Brand"], [member="Matsu Xiangu"], and [member="Reverance"] had been something she was clearly aware she existed outside of. There was no jealousy in that, no secret hope to have space made for her inside of it. In truth it was like watching a bonfire from a distance. Searing heat and dancing shadows cast by light that had no true boundaries beyond the lay of the burning itself- a fire that could grow or bank but never go out. First with Matsu and then with Reverance, she'd moved closer and closer to that fire, but always kept her distance from it. She didn't know how close she could come in truth without skin scorching, only to crack and peel and leave the bare flesh raw and vulnerable. One could only approach so closely to such a conflagration without becoming part of it, either as a flame or as fuel to be consumed.

So far, she'd allowed only two of them to usher her in, opening a space that accommodated every inch of them whole cloth, and then filling what space they offered her in return. She wasn't sure just what would happen- if anything- to reach for the third corner.

But there it was, the question. Permission sought, and ultimately, granted.

She perched lightly on the bench next to Aver, laying smaller palm in the other woman's hand.

"If you wish."

Despite the current sense of distance, at her core, Irajah was someone that held nothing back. Passion, pain, the sheer appreciation in experiences, both new and well worn, she had never seen a reason to pretend to be anything but whatever she was. The chill, the indifference was alien- weakening with each new connection drawn or relationship rekindled. There would always be a piece missing, the piece that opened to new and untested people without reservation, welcoming them into her life and making space from an endless welling of reserve. That was gone. But there was already a phantom of a connection here, a foot path gazed down from both directions, though perhaps with far more clarity and experience by Aver than Irajah.

Because she had asked about the nightmares, those welled to the surface. The endless trek across the red dunes. Suffocating again and again, only to wake up mouth dry and chest heaving, drowning in sand. Walking the razor bridges of the canyon and falling, again and again, cutting hands and knees until the obsidian stone drank it all. The Shrike. The mountain and the shadow's voices. The jagged edges where something she experienced there was simply gone.

Below that were others, older and put to rest, but connected and related. The Zambranos, Sulphur eyes and broken body. Gideon and five months spent surrounded by the dead. Of sucking grey muds, and hungry ghosts.

Oddly, not a single one of her own sins, the things that perhaps she ought to regret, haunted those dreams. She did not dream of the people she had sentenced to a painful death, the people she had watched as their organs liquefied as she sought solutions to the virus. Snatching the dead back, not because she ought to but because she wished to know if she could. The experiments wrought with Matsu, the theft of flesh to create the golem @Samson. 'Betraying' the butchers. There were horrors as wrought by others, and then there were horrors done by her own hands. Few, and mild compared to those of this trio to be sure. But this path was one so newly walked, and she had no regrets for the things she had done by her choice. Those she sat in perfect comfort with.

There were no doors, not even curtains to block off further exploration if the other woman wanted to. Simply these were the easiest of things to find because they related to the discussion.

 

[Aver Brand]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B4ILSXy_RfM​

Two steps behind Irajah herself walked something… older. Something that didn’t quite seem to conform to the shape of a woman – excess was spilling over and out, blurring her silhouette as she moved. But she was tall, and though she looked like smoke, she defied perception with the solid weight of every stride.

One thing was clear. She did not belong here, into this place of terrors. If Raj ever glanced back as the landscape flickered and changed beneath their feet, she would see the nightmare recoiling around Aver.

If that was Aver at all. The boundaries of her presence were beginning to show their seams, stretched further apart with each new shift in memory. She did not speak, or she would indeed burst apart the fragile vessel crafted for this journey into the subconscious.

Finally, they stopped. Still and quiet the pair stood in a gray limbo, unaffected even by time.

In the Dreamsphere, confined by Quietus’ prudence, this was not her form. She had viewed only chosen recollections, held together by a fellow beast that could restrain her. But Irajah had invited her inside, imposing no limitations on purview or reach.

Perhaps she should have.

Aver turned her blue eyes to the smaller woman, and ripples ran over her skin. Her lips chipped and cracked as she opened her mouth to speak, and her words were gravel as she finally forced them out.

“Do you want to forget?”

“Or do you want to remember and not be afraid?”

[member="Irajah Ven"]​

 

[Kuzo]

Irajah was accustomed to monsters.

She had grown up, absorbing stories of Sith Spawn and Vong, told as children's tales without consideration. Panatha, Maena- these were places that held no intrinsic horror for her, already grown up around someone steeped in the dark side even if she never knew. It was as normal as breathing, and by the time she had understood that, no, this was not normal, she was already working beneath the watchful eyes of the Zambranos or cheerfully arguing proper vector protocols with [member="Matsu Xiangu"]. She unhesitatingly embraced the hunger in [member="Carach"], and unflinchingly reached out to stroke the black hole within [member="Reverance"] .

So to have a monster, walking slowly at her heels, was not something that brought her fear.

Even though the nightmares themselves recoiled, the small, dark haired woman that led the way did not.

In that dreamscape, she tilted her head up to find the blue within the grey. There was a shimmer of overlay, this expansive form above the more familiar figure, still larger than Irajah yes, but not encompassing as she was here. She could see both in that moment, and both made her want to reach out and run fingers across the back of her hand.

Slowly, she shook her head.

"Everything I've experienced is part of what makes me who and what I am," she said quietly, almost gently.

Here, in this dreamscape, they existed deeply beneath the surface ice, the distance vanished in a heartbeat. Even in the grey, there was a warmth to her voice, a spark in those hazel eyes that was currently missing from the outside.

"I want to sleep long enough to be awoken by someone, rather than being the one doing the waking. I don't need to not fear it, Aver. I've lost too much to think that taking something away is any sort of solution. I just want to find a way to quiet it without losing anything else."

[member="Aver Brand"]

 

[Aver Brand]

Head tilted, Aver listened. The concept was new, raw, unrefined. She’d only recently learned what it truly meant to hear people, as opposed to merely picking the relevant information from a conversation and walking away.

And even now, the woman rarely made the effort. Mincing words was a waste of time, only worth it when the person on the other side was… equal.

Blue eyes never left hazels, free of any intent. She wasn’t here to do anything other than taste what [member="Irajah Ven"] had to offer. Judging by the flickering images stretching in every direction, there was an abundance of flesh and experience to explore.

“There’s value in fear,” she acquiesced, taking a step forward to bring them back to the bridge above a bottomless canyon. “When it serves a purpose. Fear that warns you. Fear that keeps you quick and sharp and on your toes.” Bracing against her knees, the merc bent forward to stare down into the abyss. If it stared also back, Aver didn’t seem to mind.

“This is just… a memory.”

She stood again, drawing up beside Raj to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. Her outline warped again as she leaned down to whisper in her ear. “But me, telling you that? It’s pointless. The only one who can find a way through this nightmare, Irajah...”

Pale fingers slipped lower, tracing the curve of her spine. “...is you.”

Abruptly, the pressure of her hand increased, and Aver shoved Irajah off the bridge.

 

[Kuzo]

"I know-"

Whatever Irajah had been about to say beyond that was lost in the sudden skirling of the horizon. The surprisingly pleasant draw of fingers down her back changing in a heartbeat into that shove. The walls of the canyon flew upward as she pivoted on one foot, hazel eyes wide with surprise as she fell backward, the ball of her foot the last connection between her and the razor edge of the bridge.

But this was her mind.

And she had been trained by [member="Carach"] and [member="Matsu Xiangu"].

Heat, anger, flashed in her eyes. Hands that had looked to be flailing for balance slapped together on the beast's wrist. The brittle dreamstuff crumbled against the grip, hard and unflinching.

Irajah pulled.

Wrenching them both out of her mind.

Whatever distance and ice had been there when she had opened those gates had vanished. The diminutive woman sat beside [member="Aver Brand"] on the bench, seething. Anger so sharp it almost snapped lightening in the air between them.

"You've seen," she spat out, barely realizing that her hand was still on the larger woman's wrist.

"I do not need your help navigating it."

 

[Aver Brand]

A beat of surprise – then respect, then deep-seated satisfaction.

Though she trusted her lovers’ judgement, Aver was a creature of absolutes. She needed to understand for herself what they saw hiding beyond this gentle frame and distant hazel gaze. What reserves of strength and resolve she possessed that let her stare unflinching into the eyes of killers – what twisted depths lay inside her heart that let her kiss and touch and kark those killers.

Her lips split into a knife-grin.

“That was the point, though, wasn’t it?” Aver tilted her head, blue eyes mild with amusement. “You can kick a Sith Lord out of your head – what’s a nightmare gonna do?”

The mercenary quirked an eyebrow as she finished the last of her coffee. Raj was so angry her knuckles were white around her wrist, and heat was rolling off her in waves as if she were the rising sun itself.

She glanced down for a moment, considering the fingers pressing gouges into her skin. If she were anyone else, the grip would surely leave deep bruises.

“Hold onto that anger,” were the words that Aver finally decided to release into the open. “Brings some color to your cheeks.”


[member="Irajah Ven"]

 

[Kuzo]

In any context, the grip on her wrist was a joke. Even without the weakness of Gideon, Irajah was positively ridiculous beside [member="Aver Brand"]. But she was angry enough to not particularly care. She couldn't threaten this woman- didn't particularly want to, truth be told.

But when she responded, a hint of that anger melted away, changed to an expression that was more akin to 'are you karking kidding me?' than of fury. She blinked at the other woman, clearly vexed.

"Has anyone ever told you," she said finally, drawing back her hand. Her own cup of caf had been knocked to the floor by the sudden movement, and she grimaced. "That you are kind of a queen?"

Despite the anger, there was no malice in her tone. She lofted an eyebrow with the question, but it was clearly rhetorical.

Because, despite that seething core of fury, she was present. She barely registered the shift herself for the moment, but then, as she bent down to pick up the upturned cup, paused mid motion.

[member="Carach"] had given her warmth- not the heat of anger, but a flame that she did not particularly like to put a name to. Naming it meant letting it in, owning it and promising to care for it. But it was there, gentle and firm in turns, giving way or bolstering as needed. Fed by passion for comfort, for home, for skittering sensations across sensitive flesh.

[member="Reverance"] had helped tug on the string attached to her curiosity. Woven into accounts of music shared and building upon the warmth already laid down, feeding something wholly separate. A drive to understand, to dissect, to understand what made someone do the things they did and say the things they said and how that connected to their actions in regard to the galaxy around them.

Suddenly, Irajah laughed. Reaching up to rub the bridge of her nose, she sat back up again, shaking her head.

"On the one hand, being angry at you right now feels amazing," she said with a smirk, something mischievous in those hazel eyes that hadn't been before. "On the other hand, I can't even be all too upset."

 

[Aver Brand]

[member="Irajah Ven"]

What many might mistake for boredom was simply an absence of concern, painted with a wide smile too full of teeth. Aver watched Irajah run the gamut of her emotions, caught between amusement and curiosity – the former because her anger felt unnecessary, and the latter because she nonetheless found it interesting.

“Sometimes the best cure is a swift kick to the arse,” she said with an offhand shrug, picking up the cup again. Twirling the empty container in her grasp, the woman held her gaze. Mulled over her words.

“Remember that anger next time you’re about to wake up at two in the morning because you can’t flip off a nightmare. It can be a guidin’ force, but it can also consume you – though you don’t strike me as the type.” The merc leaned closer, consuming Irajah with an open gaze. “You like to take your time, don’t you? Destroy their defenses before they ever know you’re coming, kark with their head until there’s nothing left—”

She bit her lip, raking her electric gaze downward.

“Tell you the truth, Raj… that makes me all kinds of hungry.”

 

[Kuzo]

[member="Aver Brand"] struck Raj as someone prone to kicking asses, whether it was technically needed or not, but it seemed an unnecessary detail to point out in that moment.

As the taller woman leaned in, Irajah didn't pull back, just tilted up her head to keep that eye contact. The weight of Aver's gaze didn't make her uncomfortable- in truth, she enjoyed it. The entire previous evening there had been comments, heavy looks, but they had kept their distance despite being in a situation that no one would have blamed either of them if they had more directly familiarized themselves with the other.

"And you break those defenses down into broken stone while they watch, knowing that there is nothing they can do other than wait for the same treatment, because nothing will dissuade you. You're forward, Aver."

The smirk curved into a full smile, still crooked but wide.

"And I like it."

Sure, Irajah appreciated the slow build, the game and back and forth. But they had already played it the night before, watching each other over shared lovers. It was ridiculous to be coy after what they had seen of the other.

 

[Aver Brand]

[member="Irajah Ven"]

Red lips quirked up, a glimpse of pointed teeth. Blue eyes glinted with mischief and intrigue and a hint of challenge.

“Well then – guess I don’t have to ask permission to do this…” and she reached forward, her grip in stark contrast to the pressure Irajah had exerted earlier; and to the strength of the woman herself. Gentle as only a killer could be, Aver drew her thumb over a delicate wrist. Fingers cupped the curve of her jaw, brushing a stray dark strand behind the shell of the ear.

Aver didn’t blink once, scouring her soft features for any whisper of reaction – the curl of her mouth, the sharp edge of her hazel gaze.

Then she met her halfway, and seized her lips with a kiss.

 

[Kuzo]

She didn't ask for it, but found that permission in the curve of lips, the invitation of hazel eyes. And in the lean that brought Irajah to meet her at that point somewhere between them to offer a kiss drawn from a deeper wanting.

Without them, she could have found her way through the ice, the distance. The problem was that without them she wouldn't have cared enough to try. Irajah was always better for the people around her- it had led to heart ache, pain, betrayal.... to fury and promises of vengeance, yes- but she was never better off alone. She drew strength and drive from a give and take of needs and desires, of skills and talents. Some people found strength in solitude.

Irajah found it in other people.

Free hand came up to trace fingers in a sweep that mirrored the firrerreo's, up the length of the jaw, but here to bury in fiery hair and pull her harder against her mouth for a moment before the threat of teeth sharper than she was accustomed to brought a reprieve- a reevaluation of care necessary when kissing this woman.

The richness of dark caf overlaid burning smoke and an untamed electricity, heat and an almost unbearable smugness.

"I've been wondering since last night," Irajah murmured against her lips, "just what you tasted like."

[member="Aver Brand"]