kenoslogs | april event, phase one: seeds of unrest 🌱

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april event, phase one: seeds of unrest 🌱

THE BEGINNING

Summertime in Springstar has been on its way out, heralding the arrival of fall; winter has likewise given way to spring in Highstorm - at least, according to the calendar. Yet there is an unseasonable bite on the breeze - one growing as frigid as the mood among Meris and Zenites in their cities. Between Alenroux’s occupation and talk of ‘the Blight,’ worries have been on the lips of the citizens with increasing frequency - and with good reason. The reports of plant life dying, of objects crumbling, of people whose bodies are deteriorating are dominating the rumor mills and local papers.

Everything comes to a head early in the second half of Pelu.

After an unusual pocket of commotion in the Seat of the Tribune and the courtyard of Yima’s manor, an urgent announcement is made on behalf of both cities: both Great Trees have been quarantined, and no one is permitted in either location without clearance. New rumors spread of an ‘incident’ that saw those in the immediate vicinity of the Trees rapidly demonstrating symptoms of an illness that was becoming all too easy to identify. It had stricken with frightening speed; not long afterward…

The unrest had spread into the streets, and it wasn’t just about the Blight anymore.

Cetina and Kathova wasted no time in reaching out to the Bearers via Communion to offer them guidance from their leaders and incite them to action.

SPRINGSTAR: THE ROOT OF THE ISSUE

Day by day, changes unfold that render the city increasingly dangerous...

ROOTS:

Vine-like roots have begun to thread the streets, creeping upon and over buildings, spreading outward from the Tree in Heliopolis. Over the next two weeks, they will continue to grow in size and become more troublesome, slowly blooming ice-like leaves that radiate a sickly glow.

GROWTH: Contrary to the Blight’s normal behaviors, some people and things around clusters of vines or leaves can experience a burst of vitality, growth, and splendor as if transforming to beyond peak condition. In a normal citizen, this may result in an almost manic level of energy, reckless behaviors, and aggression. In objects, they become more durable and efficient, but dangerously so - for example, a stovetop cooks faster but burns uncontrollably hot. In plant life, this results in overgrowth that can overwhelm and choke nearby flora, objects, or even people. Then, they burn out an hour after exposure and immediately succumb to a dire state of Blighted.

CHILL: The temperatures will continue to drop throughout the next two weeks. It will be coldest where vines have clustered and outright dangerously so near where flowers have budded or bloomed in great numbers. This will force some people from their homes.

TIME POCKETS:

In seemingly random parts of the city, areas referred to as ‘time pockets’ have populated. There is no way to identify a time pocket but to stumble into one.

REGRESSION: NPC’s in these areas will appear to freeze in time once a Bearer has breached the pocket’s radius but appear normal from the outside. Time within has halted at the point the pocket manifested ( typically covering an area like a city street or inside a single large building that sees regular use ). Objects can be freely manipulated but will not fall if thrown, etc.
- The pocket cannot be left until the Bearer has achieved their objective. Attempting to exit the way they entered, they’ll run into an unseen barrier that is painful to the touch, a sensation of frigidity that travels to their Shard.
- Their goal will be to locate a past version of themselves hidden from immediate view. This past version of themselves can be from any point in their lives but must be from a moment when they felt extremely vulnerable, isolated, wounded, or fearful.
- Once finding this past version, they will feel the compulsion to either find a way to reassure their past selves somehow or kill them. Whether it is the Bearer themselves who performs these acts or another Bearer in their company does it for them, as long as their past selves are pacified enough ( to player satisfaction ) or dead, they will gain immunity to the pocket and may leave. The immediate area will remain frozen, however, and the past version will be revealed to be made of roots that will shrivel and die.
- Note: Bearers will be able to see other Bearer’s past selves, even after they have been freed. Whether the past reflections are capable of speech while functional is up to player discretion.

HIGHSTORM: THE ROOTS OF CHANGE

The snows continue to fall over the city, feeling brittle against your skin...

ROOTS:

Vine-like roots have begun to thread the streets, creeping upon and over buildings, spreading outward from the Great Tree in Yima’s manor. Over the next two weeks, they will continue to grow in size and become more troublesome, slowly blooming ice-like leaves that radiate a sickly glow.

SACRIFICIAL: [ CW: self-harm ] Where the roots snake and gather throughout the city, NPC’s in several locations are falling victim to the quiet, slow pulse of the flowers and their buds. They will sit and stare at the flowers for hours, unblinkingly, as their body begins to succumb to the Blight. If they are disturbed in any way - a loud noise, an attempt to move their person, etc - they will calmly look up from their worship and crack off a piece of their brittle body before returning to their reverie.

In order to save them, a pair (or more) of Bearers must sneak up on the NPC - one using a pacifying spell given by one of the faction leaders while the other crushes the flower. If the NPC is not pacified before the flower is crushed, they will become hysterical and the Blight will rapidly consume them, causing them to perish. If they are pacified and the flower is not crushed, the spell will wear off within ten seconds with the same result.

CHILL: The temperatures will continue to drop throughout the next two weeks. It will be coldest where vines have clustered and outright dangerously so near where flowers have budded or bloomed in great numbers. This will force some people from their homes.

TIME POCKETS:

In seemingly random parts of the city, areas referred to as ‘time pockets’ have populated. There is no way to identify a time pocket but to stumble into one.

REFLECTIONS: NPC’s in these pockets are moving in surreal blurs, pieces of them moving forward as others move backward, some changing as if time were rapidly passing as others remain frozen still. The Bearers’ surroundings are distorted as if reflecting multiple realities simultaneously.
- Their goal will be to locate a tall standing mirror situated alone in the center of the time pocket’s radius. The Bearer who first touches their reflection ( henceforth called “mirror-Bearer” ) will cause the world inside the pocket to suddenly stop, reflecting a comforting environment they have fond or pleasant associations with. The mirror will be gone.

Something or someone the mirror-Bearer highly values, deeply misses, or sees as imperative to their character, goals, or desires will be present. If they make contact with this object or person, the Time Pocket loops and sends them back to searching for the mirror - but they will have no memory of this occurring. Their partner, however, will recall everything.

Both Bearers will be released if five loops occur without the mirror-Bearer being stopped from causing the loop or if the mirror-Bearer is stopped from reaching their goal for five minutes ( willingly or otherwise ). The longer they refuse to make contact with this object or person, the more tempting and dire the need becomes inside of them.

Once the Bearers are released, the Time Pocket disappears. If they manage to avoid contact with the temptation inside the Pocket, the roots and flowers in this area will be withered and dying, buying the NPC’s and buildings in this location some time. Otherwise, they will be thriving and dangerously blooming.

Note: the mirror will not respond to the non-mirror-Bearer once it has been touched the first time.

ENTREE-TING HELP

The Tree of Life is in danger, and you know it. Both Yima and Cyrus have directed all Bearers who might listen to increase visitation to the Tree and monitor it for signs of the Blight - of its leaves changing color, of any frostbitten bark, of its roots withering.

And then, during a moment in which you find your mind at ease, at rest... you dream, even if dreaming is unnatural for you. You dream of yourself sitting beneath the massive bows of the Tree's breadth, at peace. The perpetual dawn's glow warms your skin in a way that seeps into your bones, leaving you certain you are safe from harm. The Tree reaches out, and though it cannot speak to you in words, you feel it is trying to convey a message: one of urgency. One of plea.

But you cannot understand...

Soon, the branches of the Tree are reaching out to others. You cannot see them, but you know they're there; a spiritual tether connects your Shards together, bringing you all into a place of wordless unity. And once your fellows have been summoned, you know what you are here for.

You feel it rather than see it: some meager, barely-there brush of something cold in the warmth of the island's comfort. The Tree is already infected, and the clock is running down for all of you.

When you wake to yourself, a feeling of dread not entirely your own will chase you, and you will find a single violet leaf in your hand.

MISC NOTES

Bearers start with immunity to the Blight. They will not succumb to the effects of the Blight even if they handle the vines and flowers directly without precautions or care.
The above effects will occur in small clusters and are not yet spread city-wide during phase one. The escalation of frequency characters will come across problematic clusters or Time Pockets will be slow building.
For context, it takes about a month from infection to death or dissolution for the average person or object to succumb to the Blight. By the 21st, it will be three days to a week.
Bearers will be directed by Cetina or Kathova to make efforts to protect the civilians and investigate the manifesting changes around both cities. Both factions are working on their own methods to attempt to counteract the Blight, but neither has produced a failsafe solution.
The roots will remain mostly outdoors, for the most part, these first two weeks.
Tensions will slowly ramp up in Alenroux, and there are checkpoints for any non-PC visitors to screen for signs of infection.
Player characters who die inside the Time Pockets are dead and need their Shards brought to the Tree of Life for revival.
HAVE FUN!! ♥

CODING

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Upon leaving the Beyond, the first place he will end up is — naturally, Highstorm. The city is closer to him than that of Springstar, and Set immediately steps into the midst of the growing, spreading roots with a sense of fascination and annoyance. How dare the Blight reach the city? How dare it be spread beyond the Scorching Isle? With Tibbs having destroyed the Cornerstone, as far as he last recalled, either one had been made by a Shard-bearer to continue accessing the island — or, prior/during their visit to the Isle itself, someone had come along with them. Someone had spread it, to Kenos-proper. If only the Scorching Isles could have been left to perish in their Blighted state, for Ra's sake.

And then, there had been the mirror.

( There had been the mirror / there had been the mirror / the mirror / the reflection — )

In the distance, he hears the flutter of feathers, the beating of a pair of great wings. The world of cold roots and slowly-dying people has faded, replaced with the silken slide of warm sands. The sprawling desert behind them and the pale, sand-gold city of the gods before; a vast metropolis meant to be full of humans and gods alike, thriving upon the walkways of lain stone, drifting in boats along the clear, blue Nile beyond the largest structure — the temple itself. As he steps forward, there seems to be no other soul in sight.

Only the sound of wings. The flutter of a striped feather that drifts to the ground before him. In the distance, a figure alighting upon one of the high balconies of the temple, the palatial estate of the gods — ( there had been a mirror ). ]

Horus?

[ Sorry, Vash. This might be the second or so time you've had to deal with this loop, with Set. Stubborn, swift and volatile — yearning, for someone he could not truly describe what he felt towards. ]

[ and just like the first time, the sudden stretch of desert sands - ever-familiar, so like those he had walked for over a hundred years - is broken by the surreal and unfamiliar sight of splendor and beauty, of the ripple of sunlight off of a natural river's water, of a temple erected in worship to gods. memories learned long ago of a history that had been ancient by Earth standards tickles at the back of Vash's skull, but whatever he might've recalled in his brief education at Rem's hands is swallowed up by the novelty of this experience--

even if it is an experience he is reliving twice.

Vash is taking a half-step forward, one booted foot sinking into the rocky sands as he reaches for Set's shoulder; last time, he had been left to stand in a stupor, unable to comprehend what was unfolding around him as set had shot off for the object of his yearning. though Vash's surroundings remain foreign to him, it was obvious from the start that his company - the only other man who seemed freed from the spell of 'time manipulation' of some kind being woven around them - recognized it all too well. 'Horus,' he'd said, a mirror image of his unnatural, red eyes wide in an unbridled longing being repeated. its strength is enough to take someone's breath away, its force palpable - and agonizingly so. ]

--Wait. [ Vash's voice tries to caution, to draw Set's attention from the figure that seems so tantalizingly within his reach. ] Hold on just a minute. I don't think we're--

[ 'really here?' yeah, it dies on his lips before he can fully get it out; he can't pretend he has any idea how any of this is happening, and he feels for this person - he really does - as Horus obviously means something to him. Vash doesn't want to mull over the implications of that aching look in the red-haired man's eyes. ]

[ The aching thing he feels in his chest, he cannot place. He does not know why he feels so pained, seeing the tawny beat of those great wings in the distance; knowing the scent of his mother on the wind, the pressure of her presence as he reaches down to pick up one of the massive, barred in deep browns and shimmering golds. Horus's, definitely. He runs his thumb up the vane, watching the way it fans apart under the motion.

Set takes a step forward, jaw open as if to call again — wait, Horus — but there,

is another. Someone who does not belong in Heliopolis.

Vash's hand upon his shoulder is met with the reactive hunch of his bare spine, the hook of his elbow in a back-blow meant to strike at whomever might be coming up on him, unaware. It dizzies him, the appearance of this person — so much so, that the sound of his own existence rushing in his ears, drawing him like a fish on a line toward the falcon-winged demigod in the distance, drowns out whatever Vash is saying. ]

He doesn't know.

[ He says it, hoarse and faint. ]

— I have to warn him, I need to see him.

[ ( Why? Why? ) Set ducks the blond's outstretched arm, the falcon feather clutched tightly in his hands, and runs — for the temple, for Heliopolis. To seek. ]

[ 'he doesn't know?'

Vash isn't perturbed by the dismissive gesture that forces his hand from Set's shoulder, but instead by the force of the emotion behind such simple words. whatever Horus is to Set, whatever it is they've stumbled into - it is clear that this is meaningful in some deep and troubling way to Vash's companion.

before he can utter another word of caution, Set is tearing off ahead and toward the object of his unconscionable longing. Vash's surprise is short-lived; he had anticipated the reaction this time around, and he's quickly giving chase, his footfalls light and nimble. ]

Wait! We need to figure out what's going on; I don't think you can rush him again! We should-- [ S-Set, ] --hey, are you listening?

[ there is a quiet note of imploring in his voice as he tries to catch up; he doesn't know if this is some kind of shared hallucination, some byproduct of magic, or even the Blight itself doing work at unraveling their minds - but he's relatively sure he doesn't want to find out the hard way if it's dangerous. ]

Do not get in my way! [ He snarls without looking back. ] I will END you, if you try to stop me!

[ Embodiment of peace, love and doughnuts, please meet your local war god.

Briefly, he looks over his shoulder at the man in pursuit of him; who the FUCK? is this guy? The two of them are bright against the pale, sandstone stairs that Set leads them up — one chasing the other, chasing the figure of a fellow god. The grand entrance of Heliopolis's main temple, devoted to Ra herself, is a cavernous and dark portal; Set vanishes into it without hesitating, familiar with the network of intricate halls, the various complexes and yards that lead into one another. Within the temple, carved stone reliefs and painted scenes in bright golds, rich teals and reds decorate the walls and ornate columns; in places, Vash might even see depictions of Set himself, standing alongside a trio of other gods, wearing the dark mask he's been seen around Alenroux in.

At least the route he takes is as straight as an arrow ( as a bullet — ). Deeper into the main temple, straight for the sun-warmed halls that lead to the throne room itself. ]

I need to warn him! Horus, you bird-brain — wait up, wait!

[ His voice, rasping and sharp, takes a plaintive turn at the end. ]

Wait!

[ there is a tinge of urgency joining plea in Vash's voice despite Set's promises of imminent violence should he do just that. he doesn't know if this man is simply born of single-minded stubbornness or if he doesn't recall what just transpired, that the two of them seem to be repeating events that occurred mere moments before; it is the reason that Vash is not stalled by their surroundings, this go around. ( he may have, perhaps, been slowed and distracted by the sheer and unbridled beauty of this place, the first go-around ). ]

Please, can't you just think about this for a second? Don't you know the definition of insanity?!

[ ...and, joining urgency and plea is a faint twinge of exasperation,,, ]

What the hell are you talking about?

[ Even as he lunges forth, he manages to hold a conversation. From the grand halls of the temple of Ra, he pursues his fellow demigod with a single-mindedness and a hunger for knowledge. Soon, the throne room opens before them — the intricately-laid brickwork that laces before them leads to the throne itself, a high-backed chair decorated in intricate carving, golden with embedded stone ( jasper, lapis lazuli, the lovely turquoise feathers that fan along the curved edges of the back and armrests — ) and at the side of it, the figure of the broad-shouldered god.

The one that Set calls to: ] Don't you dare move! Idiot, you are probably in danger —

[ He reaches, his hand closing around the forearm of the falcon-masked divinity that reaches back, that seeks him with parted mouth, throat working as if Horus, too, seeks to say something in reply ——

And then, there had been the mirror.

( There had been the mirror / there had been the mirror / the mirror / the reflection — )

In the distance, he hears the flutter of feathers, the beating of a pair of great wings. The world of cold roots and slowly-dying people has faded, replaced with the silken slide of warm sands. The sprawling desert behind them and the pale, sand-gold city of the gods before; a vast metropolis meant to be full of humans and gods alike, thriving upon the walkways of lain stone, drifting in boats along the clear, blue Nile beyond the largest structure — the temple itself. As he steps forward, there seems to be no other soul in sight.

Only the sound of wings.

( And the mirror. ) ]

I said, wait! Don't! You're gonna--

[ Vash's more emphatic outcry matters little; Set has too much headway on him, and even pushing himself just short of his limits, his speed is not enough to catch up to the god before the damage has been done. Set has made it to his objective, clearing the last remaining stretch of distance between himself and Horus perched high beside the ornate throne. a hand outstretches, meeting that of the creature of divinity who beckons Set in return--

--and with a shiver, a shudder, a shift; Vash finds himself once more snapped backward in time again with a disorienting, strange lurch of his insides. he takes an involuntary step forward as if his sense of equilibrium has momentarily betrayed him, and then...

...

he is standing beside Set once more with a rise of both concern and frustration twisting his heart. the situation is all but obvious, now, isn't it? even so - the solution might not be as clear nor easy to identify, especially when his partner in this odd time-loop doesn't appear aware it's happening at all. it's cruel; using someone that his partner obviously cares for - is worried for, concerned for their well-being - as some kind of bait to keep this cycle's momentum is innately wrong.

he needs a plan, and he needs one quick. because if history has taught him anything... he has seconds at best before the red-haired man goes tearing after the carrot being dangled before his eyes. ]

[ In the distance, he can see wings.

At his side, there is a man in a bright coat.

The world around him is warm, sun-lit Egypt and her bounty of fertile lands that line the Nile. The temple of Ra, golden-pale and radiant, stretches before them along with the city of the gods, the city of their loyal and faithful humans. It is enough to tug at his core, urging him forth ( horus / i have to warn him ), and it is enough, that though he does not remember the loop before, nor the one before that —

He is also not a creature that experiences linear time. A loop, unchanging, is one step beyond impossible for him. Perhaps that is why, though he opens his mouth to call out to the falcon-winged god in the distance ( that faintly plaintive, wary sound his voice makes when it calls for 'horus' — ), he first looks to the man in red. ~~Maybe, because Set's always been weak to blondes.~~ ]

Why are you here? [ wait, you know what?? ] — nevermind! Hurry up, or I'll leave you behind!

[ this time, Vash doesn't hesitate beyond the cursory moment it takes for him to formulate a plan and put it into action.

he reaches out with a leather-gloved hand to grasp Set's upper arm. his grip is firm but not so tight it would be uncomfortable; still, he clearly intends to keep the other man rooted here before he can once more tear after the object of his longing. aquamarine eyes carry a heavy note of plea in them, as well as urgency-- ]

You want to warn Horus. Right? You're going to find him in the throne room up there, and as soon as you get to him-- this is going to start over again.

[ he speaks quickly, trying to captivate the god's attention before it can be captivated by Set's frantic, panicked task. whatever it is that is responsible for this - the Blight, the roots, the blooms of flowers that carry a horrible ailment with them - it doesn't matter. this is wrong. this... this manipulation, is wrong. and he's sorry that Set is the one being subjected to it. ]

I need you to listen to me. Please, I know it's asking a lot - but we're in some kind of loop, and I don't know what's going to happen to either of us if you keep going after him.

[ Even a grasp meant kindly causes him to balk, a full-bodied ~~flinch~~ twitch of his shoulder that allows him to immediately recoil from the hand coming for him. His ears ring, blood pounding in them, pulsing in the line of his throat like a fluttering bird, a winded stallion; the thing he wants most to do, in that moment, is laid out before him by a perfect stranger.

He stares, for a long moment. The heavy line of his brows turned up in the middle, jaw slightly slack — painfully young in expression, for such an ancient creature. Vash is successful, in catching his attention. He is divine, after all; his oldest sister was a goddess of miracles, one who spoke in prophecy as readily as the god of wisdom, Thoth. To be told the exact thing he would do next, though he had not done it, nor could he remember doing it?

To some, it might sound like inanity. To Set, it is actually a sensible statement. Such is the difference, between a god's mind and a mortal's. ]

— I have never been able to warn him, have I?

[ The question croaks from his throat, as his posture begins to loosen from the tight coil he's drawn it into; the defensive preparation, the poise of someone prepared to be violent suddenly, and all over the place. ]

I cannot remember doing what you are saying. All I know is that, he's right there. He's right there and he needs to know.

[ hope springs anew when he sees the shift in Set's posture. Vash had no idea how his warning would be received, especially considering the single-minded possession this red-haired man had employed until now - so it's relief that rises to meet it. ]

I don't think we're really here.

[ it is a gentler way than outright offering a 'no' in answer to the question posed to him. Vash can tell that whatever Set's feelings for Horus, his desire to keep him from some danger is immense, and to force him to relive that itching need over and over again only to rob him of it right at the point of contact... ]

...I don't think Horus is, either. If he is, he's just as stuck as we are.

[ he wants to ask what it is Set is trying to warn him of as if Vash were capable of helping. it's foolish and he knows it - but the urge sits there, right on the edge of his tongue, even as he swallows it back. ]

I can see how badly you want to get to him. If we figure this out, maybe-- maybe we can end the loop and reach him in time?

Tch. [ He hisses through his teeth, a hand rising to obscure his vision; perhaps, he wants to not look into the distance and see his nephew alighting upon the balconies of Heliopolis's grandest temple. Perhaps, he simply wants to hide evidence of what has begun to prick at the inner corners of his eyes, in frustration ( and fear ). ]

I thought I was [ home ] in Heliopolis, once more. The true Heliopolis, not the one that stole its name.

[ Rather than surface from his own palm, he remains there with his head down; maybe, if he does not look up and see his home, he will not be drawn in once more to this chase that Vash is saying he continues to undertake. Even as he tries to resist, he feels the sickening twist of anxiety in his chest, fluttering and raspy like he's failing by ignoring what he needs to do — the thing he needs to make right.

He needs to tell Horus. He needs to make sure he knows, so that he is prepared. That he is not harmed. ]

He is my nephew. My sister's child, the current rightful king of Egypt. He is an idiot, who barely knows what the world is like and if I cannot warn him of the danger, I am — I am already a poor uncle to him, but I would be an even worse one.

[ this explanation provides a bit more of the context Vash had been missing, even if the critical piece - the danger Set is trying to save Horus from - is still a mystery. it's enough despite it to further squeeze at Mr. Stampede's already delicate heartstrings, and his expression cannot help but reflect this fact. ]

You were in Highstorm, weren't you?

[ he's using the only tools to his advantage to try and reason the both of them out of this situation. he knows it's going to be difficult; Vash is weak to matters of the heart, after all, and he can empathize with the pain and urgency that magnetizes Set toward his nephew. like an unyielding force of gravity. ]

What are the chances any of this is real? That we're suddenly in... Egypt [ are they in Egypt ] and Horus is with you? Was he in Kenos before this?

What of it? [ Of course he would go to Highstorm. He was not an altruist, though.

He'd go to observe who did what, who would extend themselves beyond their borders. Who he could observe for data, for his mental war table — choices, determinations, hints as to personality, what was held most dear and what could be used against the others at another time. ( And then, there had been the mirror. ) What could be brought back to the other Meridian like him — the villains, the rogues. The gallery of audacious evil, gathering within the shadows cast by those who ought to be held up, peerless to the light.

Like Horus, he thinks. ]

— he was not. Not to my knowledge, at least. Not even his Shard exists in this place, to potentially take form.

[ He bites his lip, and turns the bright red of his gaze onto Vash. ]

But. There is always the Timestream. I cannot — disregard that the Blight, which impacts time, might have tapped into it. That maybe, I can warn him. About what came to the world. About the threat to him. He is so young and foolish.

[ Vash can't refute this possibility with absolute certainty. it could happen; his understanding of Kenos and its ability to pull people right from Time and space is... baffling at best, and incomprehensible at worst. but, right now--

the Plant looks into those burning crimson eyes. his own of placid green are calm, even as the hint of an imploring note marks the furrow of his brow. he's worried about Set, about his heart being manipulated against him, regardless Horus's existence here. ]

Even if it were possible - every time you reach him, this scenario starts over again. We need to find a way to avoid time from restarting if we want to get a message across, so don't go charging off without me. Alright?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

april event, phase one: seeds of unrest 🌱

ROOTS:

TIME POCKETS:

ROOTS:

TIME POCKETS:

vash ( highstorm ).

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forgive me for being so late... 🥺🙏

no i love u also wow what a moe icon???

vash: moe, set: sexy... setxy 😳

vash is a mowoenut (moe owo doughnut), 3x the pun

we're lucky pun jail can't get us out beyond our containment zones

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