Completed Company Sin (Konrad)

[Sloane]

Sloane chuckled as Hansel complemented her shot, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. "Trust me, it's all luck, and crafting the bow's does little in helping me use one." She was pleased despite her words; she'd personally thought she'd been getting better, and it felt good to get some confirmation, especially since it was from Hansel, she doubted he'd lie to her about that.

"That's true, but I'd be worried about hesitating, not knowing which weapon to use." Sloane replied, stepping forward to look down at Hansel's hands. Her own were marked with calluses as well, and usually she'd have her fair share of splinters stuck in her palms and under her nails, but his were accompanied by scars, and Sloane's gaze lingered on them, wondering how they'd come to be.

Sloane tilted her head at him, smiling slowly. "Modest too." She joked, watching him this time as he took the fourth arrow and nocked it to his bow. She winced in sympathy as he swore and clutched at his arm, her own eye's flicking down to check the red welts on her own forearm. Cobb had told her that they could be mostly avoided if she could turn her elbow out far enough, but so far Sloane hadn't been able to accomplish it, and so she kept any advice to herself until she was sure it was worth sharing. It was either that, or buy a bracer, and Sloane was loathe to spend the money if it wasn't needed.

She glanced back at Hansel, eyebrows quirked. "Are you sure? You don't have to." She started, but turned quickly and ducked back into the tent to grab her bag. The moment she'd lifted the flap, Cobbs head snapped towards her, blatant curiosity write across his face. Sloane rolled her eye's and flapped her hands at him, trying to form the sign for 'go away'. She wasn't sure if it was right, but he seemed to get the message, snorting at her and rolling his eye's.

Snatching her pack, Sloane made her way back outside, grumbling about nosy horselords as she set it down and began digging through the messy, unorganised contents. The dagger was towards the bottom, and Sloane pulled it out, hand wrapped around the scabbard she'd bought with it. Straightening she turned to Hansel and held it out to him, smiling faintly. "It's nothing much, just a cheap little thing. But I figured it'd do for now, and maybe if I get good enough at using it I'll end up buying something better."

She shrugged, setting her bow aside and unbuckling her quiver. "It's not as though I'm going to go around fighting everyone I come across anyway, it just... in case." She trailed off, unsure of how she should finish that sentence. Sloane was somewhat at a loss, and she couldn't help but wonder why in all of Mizahar Hansel would bother helping her. He probably thought it to be a lost cause, as Sloane herself did, deep down. She wasn't a fighter, and she had no desire to be, but she knew it may be a necessity, and if push came to shove she'd rather have some knowledge on her side. "Thanks Hansel." She said finally, voice quiet and sincere as she spoke, smiling softly at the scarred man.

Common ~ Pavi ~ Thoughts

[Konrad Venger]

"Aye, well... no need t'make a... thing out of it."

Those last four words were delivered in a rather dry tone at Sloane's back as she whirled, hail flailing like ropes in a storm, and vanished back into the tent. Before he'd finished speaking. Because this was just so easy for him, why should she wait around?

Konrad took off his hat and wiped his brow. Sodding Winter heat, and when the petch did those two words ever go together? Sodding girl. Sodding fool, hanging around her like some moon-eyed calf. Fortunately his discomfort was happily warring with his quiet indignity at being left in mid-sentence, so for the moment, Konrad was unlikely to fall apart in front of the bloody child.

Remember, she ain't much more than that, he reminded himself as he squared his hat back on his head and notched his final arrow. Probably still a virgin.

Konrad scowled at the target as if piercing it would shut that damn voice up. He wasn't a fool, nor was he thinking with his cock. He liked being around her, but was too old a dog to be so easily seduced by a pretty face and kind eyes. More importantly, what in the hells would he do with a woman?

Feet. Draw. Raise. Breath. Squint. All parts of the same shot. He'd seen Drykas make hundred-yard bullseyes in the time it took him to finish planting his feet. But they'd ben shooting since before they could walk; Konrad was late to the game. So for now, he sated himself with slow progress, squinted down the arrow and-

TWANG

Sloane came back out just in time to see her final creation for Konrad go crashing into the target... near the edge. Konrad let loose a stream of something that sounded like he was gargling with brackish water packed with twigs. Whatever it was, it wasn't Common. Or Pavi. Then he saw her again and fingered his bow, as if seeking some inspiration from the wood-

His hands found chips and scars and bites in the fine, molded oak. That petching coyote. Although it could have been worse: a wolf would have chewed through it in ticks. A glassbeak wouldn't have even known it was there. But a coyote, starved and weak? It bought him time to rip its sodding throat out... at the expense of his bow.

Need to get that seen to.

"Les'ave a look."

The dagger was pretty much what he expected, and he inspected it with a cool, critical eye. Hands that had held hundreds of blades turned it over, testing the weight, the balance, the grip, running his thumb along the single sharp edge. Konrad's face was upturned in appraisal for some time... and then he nodded. Once.

"Not a bad one. Long as it's sharp 'n solid an' youse keep it that way, should be fine." He barked out a quick, dry laugh when she spoke again, about not picking fights. "Oh, aye? No brawlin' inna mud fer youse..."

Now it was his turn to trail off. Something had spooked her again. She was like a deer in a forest crowded with predators; anything could freeze her, drain the light from her eyes and replace it with dark insecurity. But as he watched, and he knew that she could see him watching, she rallied. She didn't rout, didn't flee or lie. She plowed on, because-

What else is there to do?

Konrad wasn't used to people thanking him, and meaning it. Oh, he'd heard the word or words, many times, but they were perfunctory things. Like "sorry": said often and loudly, and with about as much honest intent as "of course, a million gold mizas and a glassbeak's balls, by the end of the week". He wasn't someone that was thanked; he was someone who was contracted, paid, and then trusted to disappear.

He looked down at his bow, already gnarled and scratched, white streaks from ragged teeth still looking fresh. Then he cleared his throat and Sloane could see the muscles in his jaw work and grind, like he was battling something down. When he looked back up from under the brim of his hat, his eyes were hard, but not cruel. Focused, but not kind.

He was there, and he was with her, but not all of him.

"Well, ain't no need t'thank me, love." He held up his bow, so she could easily see the damage the coyote had done. "m'thinkin' if it stays like dat, soddin' thing'll snap if I fire too many more arrows. So, youse help me, I'll help youse."

He held out a fist, waiting for her to smack her knuckles into it, without it occurring to him that anyone outside the alleys of Robern's Reaches probably didn't seal deals that way. But that's what it was. Business. Equivalent exchange. Skills for skills, not... nothing else. That's where it made sense to Konrad.

"Good deal to it?"

[Sloane]

Sloane watched curiously as Hansel snarled and snapped, swearing in some strange language. She frowned, glancing between Hansel and the target, taking in his five arrows and his twisted face. "What language is that?" She wondered aloud, tilting her head at him. Gods, there I go with another question. Sloane scolded herself, annoyed by her own inability to reign in her curiosity.

Sloane took the bow, turning it over in her hands and studying the damage. They weren't the usual cracks and fissures she was used to repairing, and instead look like... "Are these teeth marks?" She asked, brows furrowed in confusion. It looked as though someone's dog had wondered across the bow and used it as a chew toy. She couldn't help the bark of laughter that escaped her at the thought. "How the petch did this even happen?" She questioned, drawing back on the bowstring to study how the wood flexed.

"Hmm, I can fix it I think. You won't get anything for it if you ever decide to sell it, but it'll be safe to use." She paused mumbling thoughtfully under her breath, mind going through the possible ways she could mend the bow. The easiest solution would be to fill the gouges and cracks with resin and then file it back and smooth it out. "Yeah, I can do it. Good deal." She agreed smiling broadly and holding the bow out for Hansel to take back.

Sloane was slightly confused as Hansel held his fist out to her, but after a moment of wondering what she should do she finally extended her own fist, tapping her knuckles against his own. Amused, Sloane shook her head slowly, somewhat lost as to what was going on. "Well, should we do this now, or later?" She asked, going over how long the repair would take in her mind. "Your bow won't take too long, but I'll have to use a resin, and then wait for it to dry and harden."

Common ~ Pavi ~ Thoughts

[Konrad Venger]

"Myrian. Hearda' those bastards, right?"

Konrad didn't volunteer any more than that. Not how he knew Myrian, or at least fragments of it, stolen from memories of a father he hated more than most other beings walking the world (if, indeed, he still lived). But fortunately for him, Sloane was her usual bubbling pot of questions, firing them away as she turned over his bow in her hands.

"Soddin' coyote. Tried t'take me throat out an' I shoved me bow in the way," he shrugged, as if guilty to have halfway-ruined such a fine weapon even in such dire straits. "Worked, though. Gave me time t'rip 'is petching throat out."

Resin. Bugger, he never thought of that. He'd assumed she'd wrap it with leather or rope, strengthening it that way. But as they both studied the battered wood, he nodded slowly to himself, impressed. No, resin was better. That would fix the gouges themselves, fill them out, give the bow back most of what had been taken by animal rage. Bindings were... dressings on a wound. Resin would cure it.

Another question, and Konrad shook his head, reaching out... and gently pushing the bow back into her hands when she tried to offer it back to him.

"Keep it. I'll come back tomorrow fer it. I trus'-" He paused, stuttering over the unfamiliar and yet wholly appropriate word. "-trust ya."

He did, too. It wasn't as if he was entrusting his life to the girl, but... well... he supposed one could make that argument. The means with which you fed yourself was life, and that was his bow out in the Sea of Grass. Still just business, he reminded himself, taking a breath and shooing away those confusing thoughts. You'd trust a smithy or a caprenter or a sodding shoemaker to do their job, and you're trusting her the same kind of way.

Stop digging too deep in this garbage.

"Anyway!" He said suddenly, mayhap a little too loudly, as if drowning out another voice Sloane could not here. With adroit hands he took up her sword again, now resting in its sheath, and jutted his chin at her. "Inna' meantime, I can show youse a few things wi' this, aye? Now, tell me how y'wear this on ya, inna' normal run a' things. That'll start us off..."

[Sloane]

Sloane blinked, completely at a loss for a moment. He'd used the bow to slow the coyote and then ripped its throat out? Sloane tried to picture it, Hansel holding the bow and the coyote gnawing away at it. She couldn't imagine he'd be able to hold the bow and the coyote back one handed, so did that mean he'd... what? Used his teeth to rip it's throat out? Sloane blanched at the thought, an image of Hansel's scarred and twisted face drenched in blood and gore. But, she supposed, desperate times called for desperate measures, and that was as about as desperate you could get.

"Alright." She agreed, smiling in response. "I'll have it good as new for you this time tomorrow." She nodded confidently, moving to place his bow down with her own, beside her bag. "Anyway!" Hansel exclaimed, and Sloane jumped in surprise at the sudden change of pitch and tone, turning quickly to look at him, expression quizzical. The expression cleared, replaced by a smile as he continued, and Sloane paced forward eagerly to stand in front of Hansel.

"That would be good! At the moment I feel like I'm more likely to stab myself." She replied, only half joking. It felt so out of place to her, to be carrying and using a knife, instead of a bow. Besides that, she found it incredibly daunting to consider using it, to get up close and personal with some one that may be a threat. Despite all that, Sloane still acknowledged that the dagger was more practical than her bow when it came to self defense, and despite all her misgivings, she was determined to learn to use it.

"I think I'd wear it on my right hip..." She decided, bringing her right hand to rest against the matching hip. "I'm right handed, so I suppose that will work best, for now at least." Once she had an understanding of the weapon, she supposed she could then start experiment with how she wore it and which hand she used, and then possibly move on to different weapons.

For a moment she pictured herself like Hansel, dripping with weapons and full of the confidence and self assurance to use them, and without any hesitation. She couldn't help but chuckle at the thought, unable to imagine herself to be intimidating or dangerous. "Really, I just need to know how to defend myself with it, preferably without accidentally gutting myself when I pull it out of my sheath."

Common ~ Pavi ~ Thoughts

[Konrad Venger]

He was listening, but his eyes were already roving, and not in a lascivious sense. They flicked down to where she'd patted her side, measuring her hips against the blade. He remembered the stiffness of the leather the sheath was made of, how unyielding it would be. She kept talking but Konrad's eyes were glazing over, chewing at the "good" corner of his mouth out of habit as he thought.

Better if it was double-edged, but this what she's got.

"Well, if yer lookin' t'defend yerself," he stressed the world as if it were unfamiliar to him, and vaguely untrustworthy. "Best t'have it... ere, lemme 'ave it... like this-"

He took back the dagger, sheath and all, and shrugged out of his jacket to make it clearer for her. Making sure she was watching, Konrad pressed the dagger to his own hip, with the edge facing outward, not backward.

"See? Y'have it like this-" he reached around his waist and held the dagger in place with his left hand, letting his right hand hang loose "-'bout where yer wrist would be. So when y'do gotta pull it-"

His hand rose up, snatched the dagger from the sheath and raised it in the air between them in one, fairly smooth movement. He was better with his kopis, but this was hardly training a Knight.

"This? S'called a "reverse grip". S'like yer gonna stab someone, aye?" She'd probably seen it before, but Konrad made sure she got a good look. The blade pointing down, his thumb resting on the bottom of the hilt, sharp edge facing her. "See why, now? You pull it like dat, an' right away, it's in yer hand, ready to stab-"

The knife moved back and forth, as if he were stabbing some wall in front of him.

"-or slash the petcher up-"

Then the blade moved left to right, up and down, blade cutting and swiping around instead of burying in a single target.

"-an' y'don't have t'worry about changin' yer grip. Saves yeh time." He shoved the knife back in its sheath and then handed it back to her. "A'right, now youse try it."

Once she did, Konrad would take a step back, arms crossed, eyes hard... but even that face and that black soul couldn't hide a dancing hint of amusement in his lips. First Khida, then that dark bitch Mere, and now Sloane? He was getting something of a reputation... as an instructor, anyway. He wondered idly if any of the Drykas men needed training: were they all that good, or just too proud to get their arses tanned by a wahlak?

Then he heard clinking metal and sighing leather and shook the thought away. His student awaited.

[Sloane]

Sloane smiled softly as Hansel's manner changed, becoming serious and thoughtful, the concentration clear on his face as he devoted his attention to the matter at hand. It was interesting to see the difference. He hadn't been carefree before by any means, but it was obvious the different attitude he took on when it concerned a weapon he knew well. One could say he was in his element.

Sloane watched like a little attentive pupil as Hansel demonstrated the best way for her to position the sheath at her belt, and then paid careful attention to his movements as he pulled the dagger free. It seemed to be a smooth, natural movement, for a moment looking like he was simply raising his arm, but the suddenly sliding the dagger free on the way up. Sloane barely noticed that she was mimicking the movements with her own arm, hand pulling a phantom blade from an imaginary sheathe.

He held the blade in a way she wouldn't even have imagined trying, the blade pointed down, whereas she would have naturally held it in reverse, the blade pointing upward. "Yeah, that make's sense." She said, nodding her understanding, though she still winced slightly at the thought of actually slashing anyone up. She took the dagger when it was handed to her, and took a moment to actually secure it around her waist. She definitely didn't have enough coordination to hold the sheath and draw the dagger free at the same time, unlike Hansel.

She wrapped the fingers of her right hand around the hilt, thumb resting comfortably at the butt. She pulled the blade free and rose it, tilting her wrist until it was in line with her forearm, arm and blade creating a right angle. "Is that right?" She asked, glancing at Hansel before sheathing the blade and trying the action again, this time a tad quicker. With the sharpened edge facing out from her arm, Sloane was far less concerned that she'd end up cutting or stabbing herself, which was, for now, what she liked most about the grip.

Lips pursing and brow furrowing in concentration, Sloane gave the blade a few short, hesitant swings, too afraid she'd hurt herself or Hansel if she put any real effort behind the movements. As a result, she ended up moving her arm robotically across in front of her. Hansel was smirking, and Sloane straightened, her arm dropping down to her side, and her own lips curling in return. "I look like a loon, don't I?" She huffed playfully, flicking her hair from her face with her left, free hand.

Common ~ Pavi ~ Thoughts

[Konrad Venger]

"Love, y'ain't gotta do that bit..."

She was making a mistake, and he was correcting it. He'd pressed the sheath to his side because he didn't belt the thing onto him, not because it was some part of his lesson. But Sloane didn't see that: she was trying to hold a sheath already belted to her, and it was throwing her off. Konrad knew that, so he leaned in to move her hand away-

Why did you call her that?

"L-Little faster."

He started pacing around her, slight hitch in his voice the only clue to the shudder that went through his mind. He grasped his hands behind his back and paced, eyes almost scowled, brows pressed low to hide the fact they weren;t entirely focused on the drawing-and-sheathing woman in front of him.

Konrad didn't call people that. Not women, not family, not friends... mainly because two of those were either dead or non-existent, and the other never had an interest in him. After twenty-five years, he'd since grown accustomed to the state remaining thus forever. So to actually be comfortable enough around a woman, to not just smile and joke but say that and mean it, say it so breezily he didn't even realize-

"That's good." Konrad cleared his throat after answering her question, making a swift "keep going" movement with his hand. "C'mon, keep it movin'..."

Changes nothing. So you made a friend. So what? This isn't your home, and it never will be. You think you'd be happy hunting and trapping and making jerky for the rest of your life? This is temporary. So is every connection you make.

Leather hissed and metal sang, over and over, making a melody that nearly numbed him to drowsiness. Sloane was diligent in her practice, trying over and over, each time a little different, a little faster. But smoother... well, that would just take time.

She wasn't afraid of him. She had been, and that had been purely by his design. Break them fast and brutal, remove all doubt that you were in control. But then he'd faded from her life and she'd swanned back into his, all sass and insults and there'd been no reason to growl and terrify her again.

"I look like a loon, don't I?"

Konrad looked too long before answering, and he knew it. Like he was studying her face, committing it to memory, from her lips to her cheeks to her eyes from every movement in that flick of her hair from her flushed face. Eventually he found his tongue and shrugged.

"Yer words, not mine... girl." He stopped himself a second time. Didn't do well getting too familiar with people. "But yeh've got the basics, aye? Now... speakin' a which..."

He stepped closer to her and spread his arms, as if to emphasize his body. Nearly a foot taller than hers, for one thing, clad in breeches and his vest... which was now only a vest since he'd cut the arms off. Winter heat was a killer, after all.

"Y'need to know where t'stick that thing, if yeh have to. Now, obvious place-" He wrapped a hand around hers, the one holding the knife, and directed it like a pointer at his belly. "-is right there. S'big, soft, an' plenty of important fings inside it, ye ken? Now when you stab-"

Konrad jerked her hand closer, knife bare inches from his flesh, heedless to whether or not this scared the wits out of her.

"-y'go t'the hilt, an' when y'pull out... you twist-" He pulled her hand away, twisting lightly as he did. "Makes the hole nice n' wide, when y'do it like that. Good luck closin' that bastard off wit' a roll a sticking tape." He let go of her hands and slapped his forearms and thighs. "Now, since yer holdin' it reverse, these are good places t'slash up. Big 'n meaty, can't miss 'em. Do enough damage to 'um, the bastard'll petch off and leave ya be. But the sweet one?"

Konrad couldn't help it. He drew his finger across his throat and a smile broke free on his lips. One of remembrance, fond and free of guilt. This was what he did, after all. Time and time and time again, how'd he made his coin and his reputation. He did not think what he might look like to her, a man looking like Dira's own consort, almost grinning as he told her how best to cut a throat.

"An' if ya can? Stab in the side a' the neck, right here, b'low the ear, an' pull yer blade out forward, out the front. Makes a bloody mess but no sod walkin' the world'll walk away from that..."

He was still grinning. Still proud. Arms crossed across his chest, and he backed up a fair few feet before nodding to her. He could probably intercept her arm easily enough if she misjudged a blow and sent her dagger careening his way, but Konrad wasn't about to bet his life on dumb luck and rank amateurs.

"A'right, lessee some practice. Stabs an' slashes..."

[Sloane]

Sloane concentrated on her movements, doing her best to ignore Hansel as he moved around her, watching her and looking eerily similar to a overly strict school teacher. She liked it, enjoyed learning new skills, no matter what they were, and the chance to put her mind fully on one activity, one task, was settling and relaxing to her. The repetitive movements eased the anxiety that had begun to buzz when she'd first held the knife, and after a few moments of continuing to sheathe it and draw it, she was no longer worried that she would cut herself, or drop the blade, or anything else that could go wrong.

Hansel's gaze lingered on her, and Sloane wondered what caused it, what on earth he could possibly be thinking as his eyes flicked over her. He was a strange man, hard to read and really understand how and what he was thinking. Sloane's head tilted curiously as he finally spoke, the words sounding forced and far less relaxed and familiar than he had been. "Mhh, I don't think I'll end up loosing any fingers when I draw the blade." She smiled, head tilting back as he moved close and she was forced to look up at him.

It made sense; holding the dagger was one thing, but if she was clueless when it came to actually using it, then what was the whole point of the training exercises? However, when Hansel grabbed her hand and tugged the blade forward, Sloane tensed in shock, pulling back against his hands for a frightened moment. Hansel barely seemed to notice, and directed the dagger even closer to his skin, twisting her hand side to side as he did so. Sloane watched the movement of the lethal edge closely, wary of it coming too close to Hansel. The last thing Sloane wanted to do was hurt him, but the other walahk didn't seem concerned at all, tugging her even closer.

She nodded slowly when he finally released her hands, and drew the dagger back, safely out of range as he showed her where to strike on the arms and legs, animated and clearly enjoying himself. Not for the first time, Sloane found herself wondering where the hell this man had come from, and what on earth he'd done with his life before he'd been a hunter in Endrykas. He moved back, and Sloane relaxed, no longer worried that she was going to end up accidentally stabbing Hansel.

The advice he'd given her had caused her to cringe slightly, the mental image full of violence and gore, but she accepted it. After all, she'd asked him to help her, to show her how to defend herself, and he was. "A'right, lessee some practice. Stabs an' slashes..." He said, and Sloane blew out a breath, nodding nervously. She started slower, as she had done with the drawing and sheathing, first getting a feel and a familiarity for the movements themselves. She jabbed the dagger forward, around the level Hansel's stomach had been before he'd moved back, and then twisted the blade as she drew back. Twice more she repeated the action, before moving onto the slashes.

She slashed up to the left first, her right arm moving diagonally across her body as she imaging the blade slashing across an unidentified opponents shoulder and upper arm, before the crossing the blade over to slash the other arm, her movements forming a weaving X shape in the air. After a few slower repetitions, Sloane began to move faster, working herself up into a state of concentration and enjoyment, sweat beginning to gather along the back of her neck and thinking of little else than the blade striking her faceless foe.

Common ~ Pavi ~ Thoughts

[Konrad Venger]

Definitely making progress.

Konrad wasn't sure how he knew that, but he knew the difference between someone that had never even swung a blade before and someone who... well, had at least done that. Sloane wasn't likely to be a seasoned knifeman (woman) anytime soon - you never could be, until you'd got your blade wet for the first time - but even he could see her movements become smoother, cleaner, more confident.

That's what she needs, he thought as he studied her slashes, making X's in the air as she went back and forth, combining her blows to his smiling approval. More she holds it, more it becomes part of her.

"A'right, tha's enuff." The big man would smile crookedly if there was a look of disappointment on the woman's face, shrugging slightly. "'ey, much as I'd like wile away me bells teachin' you how not to bugger up guttin' some bastard, I got other affairs need tendin'."

He stooped and claimed his quiver, then walked back to the target and pulled the arrows out one by one, talking over his shoulder as he did.

"But! Next time..." he lingered on the words, imagining with an enjoyment that rattled him in the ticks afterwards. "... we'll try some new things... an' we'll see 'ow you do against me."

Konrad turned and walked back to where Sloane stood, dagger still in hand, not taking his eyes off her. He couldn't help but savor the surprise that radiated off her as she processed that, yes, he had just told her that next time he trained her, part of that would include tangling with him.

Again, he studied her. On the walk and as he paused, watching her reactions. He expected worry, that was just a given. Concern for what damage she might receive or, as was her nature, accidentally inflict. But Konrad knew, or he hoped, he would see that strange blossoming of determination in her eyes. A thing he'd already grown used to seeing, and admired in his way.

"Best way t'learn..."

He took the knife gently from her hands, and stepped closer to her.

"... is trainin' with someone else."

SHHHHK

His hand reached down and slid the dagger back into its leather home. He glanced down and nodded his approval; yes, exactly where it should be. Satisfied that his work for the day was done, Konrad took one of those deep, loud breaths that seemed to be an unspoken international sign for "well, let's get on with it!" and stepped back-

-but not before getting a blast of her scent, sweat and wood chips and oil and something earthy, not a stink but an aroma-

"So... ahem..." Konrad cursed himself and crossed his arms, as if raising a barrier between them. "When can yeh have me bow ready?"

OOCOkay, think that'll do it for now! I'm enjoying myself muchly, but it's getting a bit long and as a rule I don't like stretching a thread out for more than twenty posts. It gets a bit daunting for a grader lol. Feel free to cap it off, and then I can start Part Three elsewhere...