HELLIONS v2

Written by Kostmeyer
Plot by Pharoah and Kostmeyer

ISSUE 13
"A House Divided"

This story features HELLIONS and related characters, which are characters of Pharoah.
The X-men, and the Hellfire Club are trademarks of Marvel comics. This is an unauthorized work and no profit is being made on this work.
This work is © Kostmeyer 2007. Please do not archive without permission of creator.

FOR NEW READERS...

The Black King (Roberto DaCosta Junior) and the White Queen (Krystil Frost) have married, but the ceremony was interrupted by the demon invasion of Earth, led by the Horde. The Black King chose this moment to reveal that he had known about Frost's affair with another man and he threw Frost out of the safety of the Hellfire Brownstone. Frost was followed by Teryn of the Hellions, who had been brainwashed by Frost so that she was fanatically loyal to her. Both women were captured by the demons and taken back to their headquarters in Wundagore Mountain.

The Black King tried to turn the invasion to his advantage, blackmailing the President of the United States that unless DaCosta was made President, he would not commit the Hellfire Club's secret arsenal of Sentinels to win the fight. Meanwhile the remaining Hellions went in search of Frost and Teryn, joining Neo-X and Spitfire in the final attack on the Horde at Wundagore.


"It's over!" Nicolette Jones said in astonishment. With a curt gesture she ordered two of the Hellfire Club's unflappable servants to unlock the main door. The servants, their ornate costumes and powdered wigs immaculate despite the recent ordeal, complied wordlessly, throwing back the doors, and the Black Queen stepped out into the gardens. Above the brownstone, the sky had returned to normal, the fractures between dimensions gone as if they had never been there. The clouds were grey, not red.

The demons were gone.

Behind her, guests from the ill-fated wedding now emerged, blinking, into the light. It was bitterly cold, unusually so for this time of year, and as they made their way through the garden and out into the street large flakes of snow began to fall, swiftly becoming a blizzard that filled the air around them. It was an unreal, fantastical experience, moving through the still, silent streets while the rubble and wreckage disappeared beneath a fine carpet of pure white snow, softening the jagged shapes of the broken buildings and extinguishing the fires. It was as if the earth was cleansing itself of the evil that had almost triumphed. All over Manhattan the survivors came out from their hiding places or from behind their barricades, out of basements and subway stations. Soon the sound of distant cheering could be heard from the other side of Central Park. The Black Queen, quite literally an emotional vampire, drank in their joy and relief greedily. It was good to be alive.

"Too soon." Roberto DaCosta said, scowling as he turned away from the window.

Behind the Black King in his spacious office, his father, Roberto DaCosta Senior smiled: "Son, I think you're probably the only person on the entire planet who isn't actually pleased that the world didn't just end."

"It was too soon." The Black King repeated. "A few more hours and President Wilson would have given in." he beat his fist against his open palm, then, realising his father was watching him with some amusement, allowed himself to smile too. "Of course I'm pleased. I would have much preferred the victory to be carried out by our agents, that's all."

"Maybe it was. Your Hellions are a good team."

DaCosta said nothing in reply, turning to Pryor Shaw, the Black Bishop of the Inner Circle, who was sitting in a leather armchair on the other side of the desk. The Grey Knight, impassive as always, was the final occupant of the room.

"Shaw, make sure that our Sentinel launch silos are destroyed, and that the robots are moved to the secondary hangers. As soon as Wilson stops congratulating himself he'll have every spy satellite he has out looking for them. We can't take any chances."

"That will set us back millions if we lose the silos." Shaw warned.

"The real damage is not so much the monetary loss as the fact that Wilson is now aware that we pose a threat to him. We must accelerate our plans to remove him."

"I wasn't aware that we had any plan to remove him." Shaw raised an eyebrow.

"We have fourteen distinct plans to remove him, not that it's any of your concern. Just do it, Shaw." Pryor made an elaborate show of bowing and left the room.

"Knight, see to our captive sorceress." The Black King ordered, when Shaw was gone. "Her magical defence shield worked perfectly, we must conserve her energy." The Knight moved silently to the wall and opened the secret door that led to the hidden elevator that gave access to Zhoe Kahn's prison. As the panel clicked shut, The Black King was left alone with his father.

"Well, son, this isn't exactly how I imagined your wedding day would be, but at least I didn't have to make my speech." The older man smiled slightly, but his eyes were full of sympathy. The Black King turned angrily.

"Isn't it? I think it's exactly what Mother expected, or she'd have come with you."

"You mustn't blame her." DaCosta Senior put his hand on his son's arm. "To rule the Hellfire Club you need to be ruthless - you need to be prepared to take supreme risks and deal with the consequences. You need to be able to sacrifice everything to achieve your goals. I couldn't do that - it's why I stepped down, so that your mother and I could make a life for ourselves. But you're not like me, son. Your mother understands the choice you made. She might not agree with it, but she understands. That's enough."

The Black King was about to reply, when a commotion from the direction of the adjoining room interrupted them. The two men ran through the doors and across the outer office, emerging onto the balcony that overlooked the Entrance Hall. Beneath them, a small group of figures had appeared - surrounded by clouds of billowing smoke, the only visible evidence of the teleportation spell that had brought them there. As the smoke faded, a blonde woman in the centre of the group looked up, her cold blue eyes meeting those of the Black King.

"Hi Honey," said Krystil Frost. "I'm home."

* * *

A few moments earlier, in the secret cavern beneath the Brownstone, the Grey Knight keyed an access code into a computer terminal, cancelling the magical barrier that had shielded the building. As the noise of the generators died away, the swirling vortex of mystical energy also faded, revealing at its centre the sorceress Zhoe Kahn, source of the spell, encased in the mechanical pillar which bound her to the will of the Hellfire Club.

The Knight walked away, along the metal gantry that ran around the edge of the cavern, and was about to step into the open elevator when a voice halted him in his tracks.

"What happened?"

The Knight turned quickly. Kahn, pale from the exertion of sustaining the spell, was staring up at him malevolently. She had used her last reserves of magical strength to re-grow her tongue, severed by the Horde in an earlier encounter.

"What happened?" she repeated, more forcefully this time. The Knight warily checked the monitoring computers, to make sure that she was securely restrained.

"The demons have been defeated." The Knight answered.

"Why should I care about that?" Kahn snapped. "I mean what happened to my son? Reese was here! I sensed him! Bring him to me at once!"

Kahn's son, the Hellion Conjur, had come back from the dead by possessing another person's body, but after visiting his lover, Touch, had surrendered the body to its original owner and had once again departed from the earthly plane of existence. The Knight hesitated. Either Conjur had not realised that his mother was a captive beneath the building, or he had known but had chosen to leave her there.

"Your senses deceived you." The Grey Knight said, in his echoing monotone. "Your son is dead. He was never here." He stepped back into the elevator and the doors closed, leaving Zhoe Kahn in darkness.

* * *

The atmosphere in the Entrance Hall was electric - every eye was riveted on the face-off between the newly returned White Queen and her husband. Both had assumed an attitude of superior disdain, but they were fooling no-one. It felt as if everyone was waiting for a bomb to explode at any moment.

"Well, well." Krystil Frost said, a humourless smile on her lips. "The Black King lost for words? This really must be a special occasion."

"Mrs DaCosta." Roberto said, emphasising the name. If he was at all shocked by their unexpected appearance he had done a good job of hiding it. "What a pleasant surprise."

"It's still Frost." The White Queen corrected. "Your name is just about the only thing that I won't be taking from you."

"Is that so?" DaCosta returned her half-smile. "Well then, perhaps we should continue this discussion in private."

"Glad to." Frost replied, ascending the staircase towards him. She walked past her husband and father in law without acknowledging their presence, and continued towards the open door to Roberto's office. The Black King followed her inside, and closed the doors behind them.

Frost formed a crystal spear with her mutant powers and hurled it at DaCosta. She was too angry to aim properly, but it still came close, shattering against the door behind him. The Black King shifted into his lava form, so that the fragments of crystal that rained down on him melted away as they struck his body.

"Alright, if that's the way you want it." DaCosta sent a stream of heat scorching across the room. Frost quickly generated a shield, which she angled to refract the deadly ray away from her. The redirected blast smashed into the corner of the room, vaporising furniture and setting fire to the wall and floor. The building shook from the impact.

In the Hall below, no-one had dared move since the Black King and White Queen had vanished from sight. All eyes were fixed on the closed doors to DaCosta's office, all ears listened as the battle raged above them.

Frost leapt forwards, silhouetted against the blazing wreckage as spiked gauntlets of glittering crystal manifested around her fists. DaCosta shifted back out of his lava form and waited until the last possible moment before suddenly dropping onto his back. As the White Queen passed above him, he threw his legs upwards, adding the force of his kick to her own momentum and sending her crashing into his receptionist's desk, smashing it to pieces.

Before the dazed White Queen could recover, DaCosta was on top of her, pinning her wrists to the ground. The spiked gauntlets vanished as Frost struggled wildly.

"Get off of me!" With a supreme effort she managed to roll, reversing their positions so that she was sitting on his chest. She lashed out, punching him in the face several times.

"Stop smiling, damn it!" she shouted, punching him again. "I've beaten you! I've won!"

"Maybe I didn't want to win." The Black King said. Frost hesitated, fist poised for another punch.

"God, I hate you so much." She said. Suddenly she lunged forwards, kissing him angrily, ferociously. DaCosta responded, kissing her as he felt her hands beneath his shirt, legs wrapping around him. He tore away the tattered remnants of the wedding dress.

* * *

A few hours later and the blizzard had abated. The clouds were gone, and the sun blazed in a clear, ice blue sky. In the grounds of the Brownstone, a small army of servants worked to clear the snow from the pathways and drive. Damien Morgan, oblivious to the activity, sat alone in the garden. Lost in thought, he didn't hear Lamprey's approach, the snow crunching beneath each footstep.

"Damien?" As she spoke, she noticed that he was staring intently at something in his hand. Curious, she moved around to get a better look. "Damien, are you -" her voice trailed off as she saw that he was holding a small phial filled with a blue liquid - the drug Zen. "I thought Reese had cured you of that."

Damien shook his head. "He purged it from my system, but I'm still an addict. I... I still want it." He lifted the tiny glass capsule, tilting it so that it caught the sunlight. His voice was distant, as if he wasn't really talking to her at all. "It would be so easy... to take it... to lose myself again..."

Lamprey watched with rising horror. Her first instinct was to act - to knock the Zen from his hand and smash it - but she knew that if he was truly in the grip of the drug, he'd get more. "Are you going to take it?" she said, finally.

Damien looked up at her and, with effort, smiled. "No." he said. "It's about time I started facing up to things."

Lamprey smiled with relief. "I was going for a walk. You want to come?"

"Sure." Damien nodded. Lamprey activated her image inducer, disguising her natural blue skin. As she concentrated on the device, she didn't see him putting the Zen capsule in his coat pocket.

The two friends made their way along the edge of Central Park. Already, life was returning to the city. Work crews were attempting to restore vital amenities and clear away the debris, while police and National Guard shuttles buzzed over the white streets carrying emergency supplies. Without really intending to, the Hellions found that they were heading towards the coffee shop that Lamprey, Minotaur and Shade had visited a few weeks earlier - it seemed like a lifetime ago! As they got closer they could see a large crowd had gathered and they hurried forward to get a closer look.

The street had been hit hard by the attack. The demons had used Central Park as the bridgehead of their invasion, and while the Brownstone had been protected by its magical barrier, the rest of the buildings hadn't been so lucky. Most were burned out shells, but the building at the end of the row looked the most damaged - and it was there that the crowds seemed to have gathered. Touch and Lamprey moved forwards, through the mass of people. As they got closer they could see that the building was shuddering - dangerously unstable. Loose blocks of masonry began to fall. The crowd murmured ominously: "He'll never make it!"

"Who?" Damien asked. What's happening?"

"Some lady said her kids were hiding in the basement." Answered a beleaguered looking policeman. "He went straight in after them but he's been gone too long - it's going to go!"

As they watched, a massive form emerged in the doorway - it was Scotty. The Minotaur was cradling two small boys in the crook of one arm, while he held the other protectively above them to shield them from the falling rubble, now raining down more frequently. The crowd cheered as they saw him. Scotty grinned, took a step forwards towards safety - and the building collapsed - tonnes of rubble smashing down - and then halting in mid air and neatly piling itself on the side of the street.

"You!" Damien said, in astonishment.

"Why is everyone so surprised when I do something helpful?" Teryn snapped angrily. "I'm not a complete bitch, you know."

Touch and Lamprey looked at each other. "Sure Gill. Whatever you say!"

The crowd surged forwards, congratulating Teryn and Minotaur, who handed the bewildered children back to their mother. It was some time before they were left alone, but finally the four Hellions gathered outside the coffee shop. They dragged a table out of a pile of wreckage and Minotaur ripped the back seat out of a damaged car on the other side of the street for them to sit on.

"Paris would have approved of this. He was always going on at us to do some good." He smiled.

"Don't talk about him like he's dead! He's just missing - that's all." Touch snapped. "I hoped that when we all got magicked back to the Brownstone, we'd find him here waiting for us - but no such luck."

"That doesn't mean anything." Minotaur said. "We had Spitfire with us when we left, but she wasn't sent back with us either. Paris could be anywhere in the world. So could Carrie for that matter. I hope she's OK..."

"Scotty loves Spitfire!" Teryn taunted. Minotaur scowled and waved her away.

"Don't be ridiculous!" he protested. "I just wondered - that's all."

"Well forget her Rawhide, she wouldn't look twice at an ugly freak like you." Gillian said. "Especially as you were one of the Hellions."

"What do you mean 'were'?" Damien interrupted. "Why the past tense?"

"The Hellions are finished. Paris is gone, Reese is dead... again... and my brother and Frosty have probably killed each other by now. Besides, how can we ever trust her again after what she did to me? We need to decide where we go from here - or rather, you do, because I've already made my plans." Teryn pushed back her chair and got up. "I have to be back at the Brownstone - I'll see you later."

The remaining Hellions sat without speaking as Teryn left. Finally, Touch broke the silence.

"Is she right?"

"I don't know." Minotaur said, slowly, as if choosing his words with care. "But I have to say I've been questioning a lot of things recently. Should we be fighting the Inner Circle's battles for them? After what Miss Frost did - and what the Black King did at the wedding... are these the sort of people we should be following? But... they've always been good to us..." he trailed off.

"The right thing?" Lamprey laughed. "You'll be talking about good and evil next!"

"Why not? Carrie - I mean, Spitfire does."

"Yeah, but she's weak. She's got power but she's afraid to use it - that's why she gets beaten every time she goes up against The Club. The weak talk about good and evil all the time because it makes them feel better about being weak. That's what this is really about - survival. The strong survive, the weak don't. We stay with the Club because they're strong. Not good, not evil - strong."

"I guess..."

"Did you see Spitfire in the Interrogation Chamber? The girl is strong enough to bench press an aircraft carrier, and she's screaming so loud that you can hear her through three layers of sound-proofing and begging for her life! Begging! That's never going to happen to me. I'm staying with The Club."

"What about you, Damien?"

"I don't know about good or evil - after everything I've done maybe I don't get to judge. But I'm staying. We look out for each other. Paris didn't give up on me when I was strung out on Zen, and I won't give up on him either. We stick together."

"This is the only family I've ever had." Lamprey said, nodding in agreement. "We stick together."

"Yeah." Minotaur said. "We stick together."

* * *

In the Black King's bedroom, Roberto DaCosta lay back and watched the sunlight on the far wall. Everything seemed to have worked out for the best. The Horde had been defeated, most of the Hellions had returned and...beside him in the bed, Frost stirred and woke. The Black King smiled.

"Why did you do it? Frost said. DaCosta's smile faded.

"Let's not talk about that now."

"It's important. I need to know." The White Queen persisted. DaCosta exhaled with slight annoyance and sat up.

"I was angry - of course I was angry. But ultimately it wasn't personal."

"Not personal?"

"How could I rule the Hellfire Club with people knowing that my wife had betrayed me? I need respect - I need fear. By throwing you to the demons I regained both. But I'm glad you survived Krys. I rather thought you would."

"So it was all about your standing in the Club? All about power?"

"Power is all that matters." Roberto said, closing his eyes as he remembered his earlier conversation with his father. "I made a choice."

"I hope it was worth it." A crystal dagger had appeared at the Black King's throat. "Did you think I'd forgiven you, 'Berto? Did you think we'd sleep together and it would all go back to normal?"

"Are we getting divorced?" The Black King said, smiling sardonically and opening his eyes.

Krystil smiled too, but this time without humour. "Oh I'm not letting you get away that easily. I could kill you, but that wouldn't cause you anywhere near enough pain. I'm going to make you suffer 'Berto. I'm going to take your precious Hellfire Club away from you."

"Don't even joke about it." The Black King sprang out of the bed and pulled a robe over his broad shoulders. His smile - and his good humour had vanished. Krystil turned the slender blade around in her fingers.

"From this moment, husband, our Houses are in opposition." She continued. "White against Black - as it was meant to be. When the Whites rule the Inner Circle - when all of your ambitions have been thwarted - when you see me - the undisputed ruler of the Hellfire Club - that's when I'll end your miserable life."

The Black King laughed bitterly. "Easily said. You and Synn are going to fight the rest of us are you?"

"I won't work with Synn." Krystil snapped. "Make the manipulative slut your Black Rook if you want her. As ruler of the Whites it is my right to choose my own House. You'll have to wait and see who attends the next Inner Circle meeting, won't you."

DaCosta stood - absorbing the situation - weighing up his options. Frost saw his muscles tense - and realised he was considering attacking her - killing her now. But he relaxed, and smiled, although this time the smile was forced and didn't reach his eyes.

"It should be a most interesting evening." He said, lifting a bottle of champagne from the ice bucket beside the bed. He poured two glasses and offered one to her. "I'm sure you'll make a most challenging opponent."

"Come back to bed." Frost interrupted him. DaCosta raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I am still going to kill you," the White Queen continued: "But we are married, after all."

* * *

An hour later, the entire staff of the building, along with the remaining guests and dignitaries, had gathered in the Great Hall. The most important - the Inner Circle - had the best view, while the lowest ranking agents and staff were forced to the back or clustered to the balcony rails. Roberto DaCosta Senior, Sunspot, former Black King and father of the Hellions team leader and of the Hellfire Club's current master, was returning to Asgard.

"We'll come and see you and Mom soon!" Gillain said, throwing her arms around his neck.

"You must!" DaCosta replied, laughing. "Although you'd best be quick. The project is nearly done - and then we'll be back to stay."

"Bring me back a present from Asgard!"

"I'll bring back something for everyone." Sunspot said, with a barely perceptible glance towards his son. As Gillian stepped back, the Black King advanced and the two men shook hands.

"It was good to see you." The Black King said. "Tell Mother... tell her, I'm happy with my choice."

"I will." Sunspot said. "And I'm proud of you both. Now - stand back! Asgardians don't do subtlety!" he drew a small golden amulet from his pocket - a gift from Balder, regent of Asgard. As he lifted the shining device above his head there was a flash of light, a sound of distant trumpets, and he was gone.

The crowd began to break up, but as Roberto turned to go, he found his way blocked by his sister.

"We need to talk." Gillian said. "Now."

* * *

Cassandra Morrell - Quill - watched the scene from the balcony. Once, she would have been standing with the others, at the front of all the Hellfire Club's rituals and ceremonies, as a member of the Inner Circle. She had lost that privilege - thrown out and disgraced - reduced now to the position of a mere spectator, leaning over the balcony beside the cooks and butlers and waitresses. She turned away and passed back through the crowd, who parted in front of her to avoid contact with her spines.

"I haven't thanked you yet for coming to the rescue." A voice interrupted her reverie.

"There's no need, Krys. You'd have done the same." Quill said, automatically. There was an awkward silence, and Quill realised that she wasn't so sure of that anymore. Krystil felt it too, and changed the subject.

"I'm forming my own circle - the Whites - in opposition to 'Berto's Blacks. We're going to seize control of the Club - rip it out from under his arrogant nose. I want you with me, Cassie. I want you to be my White Bishop."

Quill hesitated. Frost was beaming with pleasure. "Well? What do you say? It's a higher position than you've ever held before - My way of thanking you for your loyalty - your friendship..."

"It's everything I've ever wanted, but... but I can't accept." Quill said. Frost's face fell.

"What do you mean?"

"When I was disgraced - you could have saved me. You could have admitted what happened between you and DeFaux and I would never have been expelled from the Inner Circle. I'm not blaming you - I know why you did it - but... I guess what I'm saying is that I don't want our friendship and your ambition to come into conflict again - because I know I'd come off second."

"Cassie!"

"If that's not true, tell me. Tell me now."

"I..."

"Exactly. Listen, I'm with you. I'll come with you to your White faction. I'll stay on and work with the Hellions. You need a friend, you know I'm there. But I'm not playing these power games with you Krystil." Quill smiled. Somehow she felt better - the air had been cleared, although from the look in her friend's eyes she could see that Krystil didn't understand. "I've made my choice." Quill said, softly, and smiled.

* * *

"Well, sister, what can I do for you?" The Black King leaned back in his chair.

"Make me Black Rook!" Teryn demanded, beating her fist down on the desk with impatience. "You promised me after I'd worked with the Hellions that I'd get a place on the Inner Circle. Now that the Hellions are finished..."

"The Hellions are not finished." Roberto interrupted.

"What?" Gillian's eyes widened incredulously.

"Krystil may scheme to bring about my downfall but the interests of the Hellfire Club come first. The Hellions are still an important part of the Club's plans. I understand that the team will be relocating to new premises with the White Queen in the next few days."

"You can't be serious." Gillian scowled. The Black King's expression showed that he was very far from joking.

"Of course I'm serious. Besides, the position of Black Rook isn't vacant. I offered it to Synn an hour ago and she has accepted."

"How can you expect me to go back to that bitch after what she did to me?" Gillian shouted. The building shuddered as her mutant power to cause seismic activity unconsciously mirrored her mood. "She kidnapped me! Took me to some remote base - stuck wires into my head and twisted my mind!"

"Please calm down Gillian." The Black King said, impassively.

"Calm down? Calm down?!" Gillian screamed. The building was shaking more noticeably now - small pieces of plaster falling onto the desk between them. The Black King stood up.

"Power down." He said, his voice stern. "Now." Gillian glared back at him, but was unable to sustain his gaze for long. She lowered her eyes and the tremors ceased.

"That's better." The Black King leaned closer. "Now listen to me, sister. Listen very carefully. Whether you realise it or not, your life has reached a crossroads. You are about to make a very important choice. Frost knows that you hate her. Your emotion makes you predictable, and that in turn makes you weak. She's too much for you Gillian. If you go at her directly she'll take you down again, just like she did last time." Teryn scowled but said nothing. "If you really want revenge," Roberto continued, "if you really want power, you need to put your emotions aside and play a deeper game."

"I'm listening."

"When the Hellions leave the Brownstone, I will need an agent on the inside - someone to keep the team loyal to me and to report back on Krystil's activities."

"She'll suspect me."

"Of course she will. But that doesn't matter. She needs the Hellions, and the Hellions need you."

"And if I do this?" Gillian's eyes narrowed. "What's in it for me?"

The Black King sat back in his chair and bared his teeth in a predatory grin. "When Krystil Frost is dead, we will need a new White Queen, won't we?"

* * *

Two days later, the Hellions' new shuttlecraft banked and came in for a landing, guided by Quill's expert hand at the controls. In the rear compartment, the Hellions crowded towards the windows.

"Where are we?" Minotaur said, squashing his face up against the glass

"It's no good asking us Rawhide, you're blocking the view for everyone - move over!"

The shuttle gently set down on the landing strip and taxied to a halt. Lamprey was the first to the door, shoving it open and deploying the stair-ramp almost before the craft had stopped moving. The shuttle had landed at the entrance to a concealed hanger that rose up out of a forested valley. A narrow footpath led away from the runway and wove between the trees as it ascended the side of the hill.

"We have to walk?" Teryn protested. "Next time you build us a headquarters Frosty, you build the hanger closer to the building!"

Frost glared at the Hellion irritably, but actually found herself pleased that they had fallen back so soon into familiar habits. "There's underground access to our new facility through the Hanger." She said. "But just this once, I thought we should see it this way." Turning, she led them up the pathway. Minotaur looked at the remaining Hellions, shrugged, and followed, with the others close behind.

They hadn't gone far when Damien spotted something, a little way ahead and off to the side of the path. Amid the trees, a statue of a caped and costumed young man was standing - an expertly carved likeness of a fallen friend.

"Reese Kahn. Not forgotten." Damien read the inscription at the statue's base.

They continued along the path, which gently ascended until they emerged from the forest, the trees opening out on either side to reveal a familiar sight. The Massachusetts Academy stood before them, rebuilt, refurbished - good as new. The front doors were open.

"Welcome home, Hellions." Said Krystil Frost. "Welcome home."


TO BE CONTINUED...

Issue 12

Issue 14