elemancy | week 3; someone get this kid a punching bag.

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week 3; someone get this kid a punching bag.

[they fucked up. they fucked up so bad, and noctis knows...

well, he's partially responsible this time.

it's a heavy, weighted sickening feeling. what the hell kind of prince—kind of king can he be? he didn't save anyone back home; not his family, nor his betrothed, not even his friends could escape getting wounded at his hand. and then this place comes along, and the carnage is so raw. people close to his friends—

people who are innocent.

how many more people are going to get hurt or killed while he's like this, helpless to defend them?

it all starts to spill over. it's been weeks upon weeks of loss and pain, and while he's kept so much of that muted to try and do a better job—so he could go home to eos and save everyone there from the troubles that come with a certain empire STEALING!!! THE CRYSTAL!!!! but he's not fully equipped for this, and without the chocobros there to give him some sense of reason, he loses his cool. that's why he bolts from the building the moment he's able to. and he makes it a bit away, to another nearby building before.]

Dammit, why!? [he's yelling it to no one as he just... slams his fist into the building. which hurts like fucking hell, because noctis is definitely not strong enough to defeat a load-bearing wall. that's. probably going to bruise later, honestly.]

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[those aren't words noctis particularly wants to hear. that it's unpreventable, that there isn't a way to stop these senseless, pointless deaths. that innocent civilians are going to keep dying for some sick fuck's entertainment.

he winces very visibly, and it's obviously not because of the fact that his knuckles are stinging badly. it's because this situation just.. hurts him.]

I know. [he knows that barnham is right in is words, even if they're callous.

and he knows that his best friends don't hold what happened against him. he knows that ignis doesn't blame noct for what happened with his vision, and the only thing gladio really ever got so mad about was the fact that noct himself couldn't stand up and face his own duty and responsibility when he was needed by everyone most.

he knows too, that it's expected.]

A glaive... a knight. They're a king's shield. It's their life, their sworn duty to protect the throne.

[he remembers the words that gladio said to him when they were faced with titan, about how proud he was to be an amiticia, because protecting noct and being his shield was his duty and purpose—a proud tradition to uphold.

it's the part that aren't the knights that trouble him.]

It's everyone else. The civilians, the people who never deserved it... what about them? How many of those people will have to die? [he clenches his uninjured fist, and his expression falls.

luna.

luna is the one he can't get out of his head. and maybe it's because seeing percy go through all of this with annabeth's death hit really close to home for him, but thinking of luna and how senselessly she died because of ardyn and leviathan just—it chokes him up a bit.

he really needs to separate what's going on at home from what's going on here, but it proves difficult when they run in veins of similarity that he can't shake. it's sickening, it makes him want to scream and cry, and give up. how is he supposed to be a king when he can't even protect a small group of people in a small town?]

[Barnham is quiet for a long moment, eyebrow slowly arching as Noct continues. There's something to this, something far beyond even this game. Because the game... is obviously deplorable, horrible and terrible...

But this goes beyond that.

He's quiet for a long moment, thoughtful as he inspects Noct, and then:]

That is where the cruelties of the world must be stopped.

[Innocents being harmed or killed, people being forced into this sick game... it's all wrong, and all needs to be stopped. Barnham knows that better than anyone as inquisitor. That was why he was so determined when it came to hunting down witches, even if that was wrong too. Usually, witchcraft harmed innocent people going about their business.]

That is a matter where duty and passion intersect, Young Noct.

[Looks like he still gets that nickname despite being a prince. Oh well.]

The passion to save others, to protect those who cannot protect themselves, shall serve you well in your time as king. However...

[...He frowns.]

You cannot save everyone. [Not alone. Nobody can do that, even if Barnham wishes that weren't so.]

You cannot do so here...and you cannot do so in your own world as well, regardless of the title you hold.

I know that! You think—you think I haven't figured that part out yet?

[of course he can't save everyone. if regis—if his father couldn't—a person who was a far greater and more noble king than noctis could ever hope to be himself. if he couldn't do that, then noct knows that he could never be strong enough to save literally everyone.

but he snaps a little at that, through no fault of barnham's. it's the sort of pain and struggles that's been mounting from the day he got news his father died. from the moment ignis came in and showed him that newspaper headline citing insomnia's fall and the call a few hours later from cor that confirmed his worst fears—noctis has be grappling with what it means to be a good king and how to best help everyone he can.

this is just his moment, where everything just comes crashing down—weeks upon weeks of loss and tragedy that he's been holding in, keeping to just moping until gladio would scold him, all spilling over. it's hard for him to help too, when this week has been a mess of senseless carnage—and when they'd failed to bring any sort of justice to those who lost their lives.

his head dips, and keeping his composure is honestly a bit difficult. he doesn't want to crack here, though. not any more than he already has. barnham doesn't deserve that. barnham... is not one of the glaive. he's not someone who is here alongside him to serve him. where his other friendships do still have a line (a faint one, one that only exists because they know that ultimately, he gets the final say in their journey), this is just... friendship.

of course, it's why he doesn't care about not being addressed formally; he's never asked it of anyone, but he certainly wouldn't right now either, not to barnham.

but it's with an uneven tone that he finally admits the part that's plaguing him most.]

I haven't been able to protect even one person. [not here... and not at home, either.

what follows is hardly audible, almost a whimper as the name he's been trying to hard not to say at all from the moment he stepped off that train slips out.] Luna...

[He hadn't intended to make Noct snap, but if all it took was that little push, this is probably something that's been pent up for awhile, then. Something that is only going to cause him more woe if he leaves it for now, and thus something that he needs to get out now while he can.

Their trials are far from over here, so Noct will need to be able to keep his head. Funnily enough, Barnham has faith that he will be able to do just that--if he can relieve some of this strain from whatever else is causing him so much grief.

And there it is, isn't it? The single word, a single name breathed out in a pained voice--that's what it is. There's more to it, of course. There's the matter of his knights, and his need to ascend as king (which means the previous king, clearly, is out of the picture; Barnham is familiar enough with the proceedings to gather that much).

But this...

This, it seems, is something Noct has yet to come to terms with.]

...And who, then, is this person you were unable to protect, who clearly meant so much to you?

[The time for delicacy, it seems, is gone.

Time to just ask flat out. If anything, he seems as calm as ever, even in the face of Noct's pretty inevitable break down--this is just...something that he feels he has to do.]

[not that he's particularly had time to fully come to terms with his father's death either—but that's a little less raw. he wasn't ready for his dad to die...

but he knew it was going to happen. he'd already seen over the years as his health deteriorated from using the crystal for the barrier; how he was using up his life to the point that he couldn't even summon his weapons anymore. he imbued his power to the kingsglaive instead, but still.

still.

even if noct wasn't ready, wasn't prepared, that fate was inevitable. he was going to inherit the throne one day no matter what. it's just how he died that made a mess of it.

but luna.

luna...

that's not something he could have ever been prepared for. it takes noct a really, really long moment before he can say anything. when he feels like this, it's just difficult to get the words out.

he's not very good at expressing himself this way, after all.]

Luna— [he starts to repeat her name, but he realizes there's a sense of scale and role here that barnham wouldn't know.] An oracle. Lady Lunafreya Nox Fleuret.

We... were going to get married. [until fucker mcfuckerson stabbed her and bitchy sea serpent astral decided to just ruin that. it's fine.

(it's not fine.)]

[... Ouch.

It's definitely not fine.

Marriage is...a topic Barnham is admittedly not sure how to scratch. He's always been a little married to his duty, and aside from that, he had Constantine. He's never thought about such a thing, but one thing is very clear--marriage or not, Noct was fond of this Luna, and to have this taken from him in some terrible way is...

...Cruel.

It's cruel, and Barnham can't even begin to imagine the circumstances, and yet to go straight from that to here...

He's quiet for a moment. And then, rather than ask the circumstances, he asks... the question that he feels really, truly, more than anything, needs to be asked.]

Have you mourned?

[Has Noct gotten that time? Or was it one thing after another, until he ended up here? Has he been trying to be strong all this time about this, rather than mourn her passing?]

[that's... a question he's really not sure how he's supposed to answer. it makes him feels a little sick to think about it.]

...Have I?

[it was one thing afyer another, because of course it was. sure, there had been several week spent in altissia while ignis recovered—or tried to—but much of that time was still spend dealing with the aftermath of the leviathan fight, making plans going forward.

then it was cartanica, and then... here.

noct slumps, a bit more significant.

he moped, but be really... did he mourn properly?

he doesn't even know at this point, and maybe that's telling enough. he's been sad. he's been really, unbelievably sad. but he's not sure it constitutes proper mourning, not at all.]

[That doesn't really make Barnham feel any better about this situation. If Noct doesn't know the answer to that question...

He'll be a little merciless about it, honestly, because he feels this is something that must be done. Regardless of the situation, regardless of how inopportune it might seem...

Noct lost someone he cared about, and hasn't really been able to come to terms with that.

But to begin the grieving process, he has to admit to himself that he hasn't, doesn't he?]

I asked you a question, Noctis.

[He lifts his chin.]

Have you mourned? You left flowers at the grave of Miss Tiara--were you able to do something similar for your lady? Were you able to think of what has happened, beyond simply now? Or have you shirked away from the very thought, the very concept of coming to terms with what has happened?

[...And, a little gentler:]

Have you allowed yourself the time to grieve?

[Because from where he's standing?

It doesn't really look like it at all.]

[it's hard to look barnham in the eyes when he says something like that—and there's a very distinct hurt that's present on his face. of course, it's not because of what barnham is saying specifically.

but maybe he really knows that he hasn't been able to grieve. he hasn't had time to do much at all with how things have gone.]

There's... no grave to leave flowers on. [it's that kind of thing.] And Tenebrae—I never got there. Not with everything happening back home and...

[there's such a defeat to it. he didn't get a chance to even get to tenebrae, because he got spirited away to this shitshow that ended up being called "whole ass."

and noctis doesn't even answer the question properly—because what he says next may just be telling enough of what he wanted to do, and how he wanted to do it.]

Sylleblossoms were here favorite flower. She had a whole garden of them in Tenebrae. [and there's one, pressed in the book at umbra keeps on him, one that he's had from her since they were kids.]

I saw her— [in a dream, after fighting leviathan.] A dream—a goodbye.

[it's a half-baked thought as his breath hitches. he doesn't seem to get the whole thing out, but remembering it so vividly...]

She passed one to me there too. A sylleblossom. [it's been in his head because he thought about that too—how maybe tiara would have liked the sylleblossoms, how if he could leave flowers on her grave, he would have liked them to be that instead.

they're special. special flowers. special people. people forced into fates they never deserved.

he cried a lot back then—but he kept so much of that grief to himself because of everything that was happening that it's almost the same as having never grieved at all. he needed to be the prince, the others needed to focus on ignis recovering...

it just—it wasn't the same, not at all.]

[It's heavy stuff, and Barnham can't even pretend to understand everything Noct is going through. But even so, he's seen grief in so very many forms, and this sort of thing... this is the sort of thing that Noct has kept pent up for far too long. If talking about it will help, even just a little, even just by taking the edge off of the pain and making Noct feel a little less like he has to bear everything on his own... then Barnham will consider this worthwhile.

(And, of course, there's the fact that he understands Noctis even better now, though he's always been a refreshingly straightforward person, he thinks.)

He nods, quietly. Flowers, to leave on a grave that doesn't exist.

And more encouragement, so that Noctis doesn't think he can clam up again.]

We are not in a forgiving situation.

[He can acknowledge that much. It's obvious.

And yet--]

However...that does not mean you do not have the right to grieve. Tomorrow, we shall likely have to face this irreparable game once again--but tonight, there is time to grieve.

[For the people who died today. For the people who died throughout the weeks leading up to this.

For Luna, for his knights, for everyone he's lost along the way, because it isn't healthy to keep it all pent up like this, because in the end, Noct will end up exploding, and there is too much at stake for that.]

...Tell me of sylleblossoms. What do they look like? [Just keep talking, keep going--until Noct has exhausted these thoughts that he's been keeping pent up for so long.

Because he doesn't have to bear all of this on his own.]

[it's the sort of thing that noctis appreciates—and he'll undoubtedly express his gratitude for it later.

that's the sort of person noct is, after all. even though barnham is straightforward and maybe a bit too much so in some ways, he's saying things noctis has needed to hear for a while now. while the others would have been the ones to be his voice of reason normally... everything had just gone so wrong.

with ignis losing his vision, prompto following him around like a puppy, and gladio either helping ignis or yelling at noct to man up to his duties, he really lose some of that support. boarding the train was the beginning of moving past some of that, but they'd barely had any time. and with noct now being the one to try and guide the younger ones like xion and percy to not reach their breaking point without crying it out—

(funny how that works, right? he knows how it goes, but he's so bad at expressing himself.)

he needs this.]

I don't know much about flowers but... they're native to Tenebrae. And she loved them enough to grow them. She gave me one, when we were kids she told me they were used to weave the royal family's crowns.

[so it had a pretty significant meaning, for the crown prince and the oracle to share something like that. especially as time passed and she became (so suddenly) his betrothed.

though he could hardly forget what they look like when he has one in that book, he still squeezes his eyes shut to try and describe them.] They're... blue. With a lot of petals. Sometimes she would write and tell me about her garden... more... like a field. I think there were that many.

[he's definitely trying hard to hold his composure. lunafreya is someone precious to him; that's why even though their marriage was arranged, he took no issue with it. he had been... kind of excited in a way, once he had time to let it sink in.

and then she was ripped away, along with his kingdom.

he's not sure if she knew that, either. though he could imagine she wasn't opposed to their wedding, he doesn't know how much she wanted their wedding, and he doesn't know if she knew that he felt strongly about it as well.

maybe it was strange when they hadn't seen each other in twelve years, but umbra's appearance with the book always thrilled him. there was so much about her—so much he hardly even thought much of until it was too late, because he took for granted that she'd be safe, somehow.]

[Barnham has no frame of reference for any of this, of course. Different royalty, different worlds, different customs. He knows nothing of flowers, or anything of the sort, because the Storyteller does not use them or have them.

But.

That does not mean he doesn't understand the significance, and how much they mean to Noct. It's a shame, honestly, that they're out in this desert like this. Finding any sort of blue flower would be entirely impossible, and he knows it.

(But grief has its own ways of showing.

This is a start, and he can only encourage it.)]

I see. It takes a very patient soul to raise flowers such as that, I would imagine.

[Tell him more about Luna--as much as Noct can handle talking about, as much as he needs to say until he feels less like he's been holding it in all on his own.]

[strangely enough—noctis doesn't has nearly as much of a problem talking about who luna was in life. it's her death and the things that surrounded it that make him struggle a lot more.]

She...

[okay.

maybe it's not that easy, but that's not from his sadness. it's just because he's kind of embarrassed to talk about it. noctis... not being so good at expressing himself and being perpetually embarrassed even when his best friends would rib him about his betrothed—it's not any easier. but if nothing else, there is a bit of a shift in his tone as he says a couple of things.

slowly.]

Was warm. Always wanted to help people and carry out her duties. [as oracle, but he's just going to kind of.

you know, not talk about her oracle powers because she's a witch, probably.]

She was strong and held her own, though. Even when things were bad—she did what she wanted and didn't let people hold her back.

[and maybe that in itself was telling of their feelings. if luna really didn't want to marry him, she would have found a way to refuse, even if she got hurt in the process. that was the sort of person she was.]

...Everyone loved her. Even people that never met her, they all admired her. [she never once really needed him, he's sure of that. he relied on her for a lot, in strange, small and subtle ways.

the part he truly can't say though is how pretty she was. and how when he saw her take the podium in altissia—she was even prettier than he'd remembered. of course, it had been twelve years since he'd seen her in person, but even still. she was beauty, she was light—

she really was something special.]

[It's good to hear. It may be difficult for him to talk about, and embarrassing (Barnham at least understands that very well, feelings are embarrassing and hard to talk about, okay... he gets it...), but he still thinks it's good that he does. That Noct can think of her in this way despite her death, and remember her for the things that he admired about her.

That he can think so fondly of her, despite the clearly tragic circumstances surrounding her death.

This is a delicate matter, and admittedly, Barnham isn't great with delicacy. He's honest and straightforward, and he's been trying his best this entire time to get Noct to open up--now that he has, though, he's honestly not sure where to go from here.

There's a quiet nod, and then, simply, he speaks from the heart, as honestly and honorably as ever, and hopes that that's enough.

He presses a fist over his chest, a knightly salute, and says:]

Then I shall remember her just as this. Lady Lunafreya Nox Fleuret, the oracle who was admired far and wide for her devotion to her duties and her cause. Who was gentle enough to raise flowers, and fierce enough to stay true to herself.

[He takes a slow breath in, and nods.]

For what it is worth, in a game such as this--she shall be remembered.

[By Noct, of course--but now Noct isn't alone here in remembering her. Barnham will as well, for as long as he lives.]

[perhaps the strangest part of this is all is the fact that... it means something to noctis. it tugs at his chest a little, because there's a brand of sincerity that comes with barnham's words that resonate with him.

this guy—he's a real good knight, isn't he?

there's a long moment where he remains quiet, and it's not because noctis doesn't actually know what to say. it's because he's giving that moment to luna, honoring her memory quietly. there's still so much he feels about this situation, and it's clear enough that one night to grieve properly may not really be enough. it's not only her he's mourning after all. it's all the lives lost so senselessly; both at niflheim's hand and those here that couldn't hold onto their lives longer. for the deaths that weren't avenged because they have murderers in their midst who will shamelessly try (and succeed) at getting away with it.

but it's short lived, because he can't handle a silence that feels drawn out and heavy when the onus is on him.

so after that moment, there's a tug at the corners of his mouth; a smile that is small, but very sincere and full of his own gratitude.]

...Thanks. [for remembering her, but for listening and calming him down. he still feels like he could be at the edge of tears, but they're kept at bay for now. this—it may have been what he needed more than he even realized.] Seriously... thanks.

[At that thanks, there's a faint smile on Barnham's face, even as he shakes his head as well. Noctis... is a good soul. A good soul who has been through a lot, but that is the lot of those in power. Now, removed from the situation as he is, Barnham can see the position the Storyteller was in a little more clearly, though Darklaw is still something that pains him.

He doesn't think too hard on it.

Instead, he focuses on this, and shifts to dump the melting ice from the cloth away to grab more.]

...Do not forget to take the times that you can to grieve for what you have lost.

[Because the lot of those in power, too, is that they can't in the public eye. There are always those counting on them, always those depending on them, and thus they cannot crumble.

But.

That means it's all the more pressing.]

For you shall have to be strong the remainder of the time. I am well aware you have no desire to shirk that duty, and that is as it should be.

[He returns, placing the ice more gently then on Noct's knuckles, and nods.]

But though that duty rests upon you...that does not mean you should not also take care of yourself--mind and body alike.

[...]

I believe you know this--but occasionally, a reminder cannot do too much harm.

[he takes the moment to stretch out his hand; it's definitely not the most comfortable thing he's ever experienced.

...even if it's kind of his own fault for punching a wall.

but he still listens barnham's words, taking note of some very sound advice... things he really has needed to hear. there hasn't been anyone to tell him in a long time—and he gets the feeling that barnham understands his reasoning better than anyone else here could.]

'ppreciate it.

[he does, because he believes in the fact that barnham is just being kind and honest in his advice. he's straightforward, but for a person like noctis, that's... honestly quite necessary.]

Guess I got caught up in helping everyone else.

...Trying to find a way out. And... the ones who never lost anyone before this.

[he can't help it. he may be a bit reserved, shy and bad at expressing himself—but noctis is definitely a bit of a bleeding heart. he really does his best to help everyone around him, and at times, it's to his own detriment. it's not something he can turn off, and while there are times when he can be a bit selfish and unable to see the perspective of others...

well, he's a bit of an immature king, that. he's not quite ready for the weight of his duties, and sometimes the blowback from trying so hard wraps around and causes even more problems than what he started with.]

Can't let this place beat me... but I gotta try to make sure it doesn't beat the other ones who want good, too. [they're going to be a guiding hope, aren't they? the ones who are truly good and want to fight against this bullshit.

they can't let that light go out, though noct sees well enough that he's doing it at the cost of his own well-being by quite a bit.]

[Yeah, probably avoid punching walls in the future, Noct. Barnham would approve of that plan of action. For now, though, he inclines his head, acknowledging. Honestly, it only commends Noct to Barnham more. He was just trying to help the people here who needed it most.

But even so--]

You have done nothing wrong, Young Noctis.

[Wanting to save people, wanting to help people--trying to get people through this, and help them, and stay strong through all of this suffering.]

This has simply been a reminder--you cannot protect others if you cannot protect yourself.

[Emotionally and physically, Noctis has to look to himself first. It's harder to do in the chaos of this place--so he'll just remind him when things have finally quietened down just enough for that to be the case.]

The others shall need you again soon enough.

I know.

[that's how it always is, after all. for all that noct needs to rely on others back home—he knows how many people are counting on him, too.

it's something he's struggled with a lot, having so much responsibility put in his hands when he wasn't anywhere near ready for it. but the truth of the matter is he found ways to step up to the plate enough, didn't he?

he knows that he's nowhere near as capable as his father. not as a man, and certainly not as a king. but there are people—kids—here who need help and guidance from him because he can understand their struggles in ways that some of the others may not.]

I'll figure it out, somehow. How... to protect as many people here as we can.

[he's really not sure how, especially with some irresponsible people who seem to be willing to walk into a death sentence to sate their curiosity. but he can't give up, either, right?

he just has to figure it out, be smart about it...and try not to let the worst get the better of him.]

But remember--you are not alone.

[Even if it feels like he's got the weight of the world on his shoulders and that he has to do so much to try to save people who aren't necessarily willing to be saved--

Noct isn't alone. There are others with the same goal, and quite honestly:]

Should you require support, others shall be there for you.

[Barnham will be there for him.]

I swear that to be true.

[it's still strangely assuring for him to hear—sometimes, it's just the thing he needs. even if noctis is more than aware of that fact, actually hearing it at a time when trust among them all is starting to bottom out...

it's a good thing, to be sure.]

I know. Not the kind of thing anyone can really handle alone, right?

[which...

well, is to say for noct that he'll be relying on having that kind of support behind him.]

Indeed it is not.

[So ultimately...they have to depend on each other, even if he knows that trust isn't exactly easy in a place like this. But still--]

They intend to remove all trust we may have in each other through this game.

I shall not allow for it.

[Or at least... he'll try....]

...That's gonna be a tough sell.

[even though it's clear that noctis wants to trust in people too. he's not into the idea of believing everyone may be his enemy, or that he'll be betrayed at the drop of a hat.

he knows it's possible. of course he does; he was raised with healthy dose of knowing that he has to have some skepticism.

but that optimism is the thing he's trying to hold on to in order to get through this situation. it's so tough otherwise—this is what noct has to cling to.]

I guess... we gotta find the ones that really can't be trusted, though.

... They may be those who we wish to suspect least of all.

[Which is a frightening thought, but--]

Nonetheless, a life jumping at shadows is hardly a life at all. Yes, we must be wary, and yes, we must find those traitors who would cause us harm... but that does not mean we must spend our time here doubting every last situation we face, either.

[They have to do their best, after all.]

Be cautious, but do not despair. We are not alone in this place, and that is a strength, not a weakness.

Yeah. I'm not planning on giving up. Not really my style, y'know?

[he's really trying to keep as positive an outlook as he can about it.]

Not really into suspecting the worst of people anyway. [he draws in a breath, quiet.] Messed up as it is...

I think even good people will play the game if their backs are against the wall. It doesn't make it okay, but I... I still get it.

Nobody really deserved to die in the first place, but it's not like I expect everyone to be ready to give up their own lives to save someone else. That's.. hard to do.

... Indeed. It certainly is.

[he can't deny that much; even if Barnham would give his life willingly in the defense of his city or innocents, he can't blame people for not being willing to make that same sacrifice. He became a knight solely because he was prepared for that fate, should it ever come.]

There is little room for mercy in this game, which, I believe...is all the more reason we must remember to hold to our mercy, and our empathy.

I'm planning on it.

[he wants to have at least that much faith in himself.]

If I haven't snapped by now, I think I can handle it. [with how badly this entire week went, the closest he came to losing it was punching a wall.

which really... isn't all that bad.

all things considered.]

I believe you are right.

[Except that the pressure is going to get worse and worse as they go.

Welp. IT'S PROBABLY FINE.]

Keeping your head held high... is the best that can be done at a time like this. They shall not break you.

[It's a good thing--he's proud.]

[the difference here is that noct is pretty sure that he'd do just about anything over actually snapping to the point of killing someone else in that way.

...which is not to say he wouldn't ever end a life at all, but he wouldn't do it just because of this game, and it would have to be truly deserved and justified.

(you know, like some smarmy ass guy responsible for ruining his entire life? fuck ardyn izunia with a piping hot dildo, etc.)]

Yeah. I'll do my best. But... you gotta do the same too.

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week 3; someone get this kid a punching bag.

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