[ As always, there are audible quotes around the word, but similarly, he also takes a seat on the very edge of the bed, not infringing on the Ciel-loaf, but enough to be able to prepare the contents of his makeshift tray. He starts to pour hot water into the hug with tea for Ciel's usual morning routine, but he may hear the whirring of something new.... ]
[If anything can get him going or get him interested, it's the mention of tea. Black leaf tea sounds a hell of a lot better than shitty crumble tea in a dipping bag that this place has.
When he sits up, the sheet falls away from his head to his shoulders, and he opens his mouth only to wonder what is coming out of it suddenly--no, that's not him. That mechanical whirring. At first, he eyeballs Sebastian. Is his demon having existential difficulties? No, it doesn't seem like it....
He looks down at the edge of the bed, but is unable to see the Haro from where he sits. The noise was coming from the floor. Slowly, he leans over to investigate. Oh God. A Haro-looking thing that doesn't even look like the Haro he babysat at all. Not neon green, but... black.... Had Sebastian painted Banagher's poor toy?
Wait, he remembers: the Haroombas. He had painted theirs, too. Oh God. Oh God, his shitty demon had been given lessons in technology, and now he was making a miniature army.]
[ Unsurprisingly, the question gets Sebastian's expression to positively light up, though he continues with the preparation of the tea as his priority, naturally. His Haroomba was an assistant and nothing more, so the majority of matters Sebastian honestly preferred to attend to himself. ]
Ah, yes, young master, this is my rover-to-be's Haroomba. I call him Throckmorton.
[ With how he phrases it, there's an implication that literally no one else would ever call him this stupid name. That said, because it's a stupid name (much like "Michaelis," actually), there's almost certainly a story behind it too. ]
I participated in Mr. Noh-Varr's little competition as a chance to better my skills, and this is the result. [ He laughs lightly, then nods to him. ] Most of its use is particular to our rover, but there are certain attributes I added for your benefit.
The name gets Sebastian an unamused glance, then he looks again at the Haroomba on the floor. He's going to call it Mort. Throckmorton is such a pretenti-- ....
Was that the name of a demon?
Sebastian gets another, more intense unamused glance.] Ours had a malfunction in the speech. It sounds like a mechanical grandmother. [Leaning over the edge of the bed, he reaches down and prods the Haroomba once on the forehead with an index finger.]
If you didn't customize it to make better tea and dispense sweets, then it was a waste. [:)]
[ And of course, in comparison, "Mort's" voice is cool and pleasant, like the GPS voices... ]
Hello, young master. How many I assist you?
[ Sebastian on the other hand just tilts his head lightly and curiously as he watches this exchange, since he's interested to see how his dear little Haroomba works in the real world... You can do it, Morty. ]
It does not. I thought it would be best served if I still took care of those for you, young master. However— [ He lifts the tea from the mug, then offers the mug itself to Ciel. ] It should help you with some other tasks in the assumption that I am otherwise occupied. Such as the matter of dress.
[Surprisingly, Ciel is amused by the orb on the floor. It's like a small, round Sebastian... except perhaps easier to punt when he's feeling aggravated at it.
Leaning back up, he takes the mug that is given to him, bring it up, blows gently across the surface, then sips it carefully.] What if I don't want to be dressed by one of those things? [WHAT THEN, DEMON? All your efforts... in vain.
He opens his eyes again after the sip, gaze on Sebastian. Then he swallows, turning his attention back to the Haroomba, thoughtful. Would it listen, or was it just pre-programmed?]
Mort, [He'll be damned if he says that entire pretentious name.] move three paces back.
Sebastian's expression doesn't change at all as Ciel threatens to make all his hard work for naught, because truly, Ciel is predictable. He had expected that question in full, which is why he already has an answer in mind. Mort floats back approximately three paces (Sebastian paces, that is), until it bumps against the opposite side of Ciel's room, and as it does, Sebastian explains smoothly. ]
Then I will continue, young master, but there will likely be cases where I will not be able to. Having heard what the missions upon the planets entail, there is a possibility that I will be unable to attend to you fully in favor of the tasks the CDC asks of me.
[So it is a mini Sebastian. Great. Now he has three of these things to fuss with. The one in his own rover, Sebastian's, and the one that they assisted Banagher in making.]
Your service to me comes before anything else. [Truthfully, he's not so certain how that works with the CDC, but he doesn't like the idea of their contract over-riding his. Sebastian is his demon before he is their world destroyer. And while this happens to be quite unsettling to consider, it is also pretty amusing in its own right.
If the choice is left up to Sebastian, to risk a hand-slap with the CDC or with Ciel, who would he choose? Hm....] But fine. I might think about humoring it. [Wary of spilling, Ciel turns in place to dangle his legs over the edge of the bed. He has another contemplative sip of tea.]
You did this without the consent of the others in your rover, didn't you?
[ There's a certainty in Sebastian's words that makes one thing clear enough: his loyalty to Ciel will always come first. There is a part of that loyalty that's the result of having no other choice, since allying himself too strongly with the CDC would be considered betraying Ciel, a term of their contract that he could not breach, but more than that... The CDC interested Sebastian, but he had no reason to choose them over Ciel.
Of course, he had a feeling that was the lesson that his Black Box wished to impart. But all the better that Ciel didn't know that, since if Sebastian did ever change his mind, it would be disastrous for his young master over anyone else.
Still. That was nothing to worry about for now, so once again, his answer is smooth and easy. ]
My power is yours first and foremost. However, would it not be more advantageous is the CDC at least thought that was not the case? Our bond is almost certainly a liability to them. I am merely attempting to ensure that it goes without too much notice, for when it draws interest, that is when we run into problems. [ He means the Undertaker here, first and foremost, though other people that find out about their contract and are interested enough to go digging tend to be trouble in their own right, so far as Sebastian is concerned. That straightforward assessment is followed by a bow of Sebastian's head, more deferential as they move back to the topic of Mort. ]
Not exactly. They were happy enough to allow me to customize and oversee it, since it will listen to them just as well. Its functions are hardly anything extravagant, since I favor the practical.
[Yes.... Yes, that would be advantageous, wouldn't it? He files the idea away for later and hopes that he can shove enough pride out of the way to pretend to let the CDC think they are more important.
After a few more sips of tea, he stretches his arm across and returns the mug back into Sebastian's possession. This allows him to stand, but he doesn't move away from the bed just yet. How much is Sebastian's rover going to regret making the decision to let the demon customize the Haroomba? A lot.
And something tells him that Mort is just Sebastian's way of being irritated and divvying up a workload. What a shithead.
Finally, he takes a step forward, allowing maneuverable space to be between his body and the bed.] Dress me. [He doesn't clarifying whether he is, in fact, talking to Mort or Sebastian. He is looking at the Haroomba, but the way his voice lowers, he could also be issuing a small order.]
[ The command in those words is hard for Sebastian to ignore, and he knows that Ciel knows that. However, he won't be bested so easily by you, punk... ]
Ah, here, Throckmorton—
[ He can at least half-ass following that order by motioning over to where Ciel's clothes are kept, opening the drawer and handing him a neatly folded shirt first. If questioned, Sebastian would of course retort that it has to learn the proper order of things too, but. It's more to be able to obey that order, admittedly.
Still, Mort is dutiful like Sebastian, but blessedly more quiet. It simply takes the shirt and hovers briefly (which Sebastian is pleased to see works, because he had to ask for quite a bit of help with that part), allowing Ciel to stick his arms into the sleeves as it holds it up. ]
[Aw, and he thought he'd have Sebastian clambering to try to beat the Haroomba to its job. He'll have to be more sneaky next time.
With the patience of a saint, he waits in place for the butler to butler the butler. His eyes scrutinize the ball as it maneuvers over to take the shirt, then when it hovers back over to him. Again, he feels like Sebastian is weaseling out of a job.... (He is, but Ciel is under the impression that Sebastian makes a good Macha point.)
It seems like he won't be satisfied enough to continue, but finally, he relents, lifting an arm to stick it into the first sleeve, then turning to stick the opposite arm in the other one.
Then he just stands like as usual like a little punk, waiting for everything to be done.]
[ At east in that department, Ciel won't be disappointed! Sebastian has made sure that his Haroomba will take care of all the details, since being very detail-oriented himself, well. Of course it's something he takes notice of. So the Haro continues, buttoning the shirt, and as it does, Sebastian will at least continue on with their morning routine as normal.
(Truly, how refreshing this was.) ]
Your day should be relatively free, young master. Except for any surprise announcements, I do not believe anything should be a part of your schedule for the day. It would seem that our first planet-side mission will come soon, that said.
[ He's pulled out his Blackglass at this point, and he pulls up a file, though it's brief. ]
The planet is called Macha. Seemingly fertile, with a forested environment, and with two species that would seem to be sentient.
[Honestly, Ciel appears less than impressed, both with being dressed by a robot and with the news about Macha. These last few days have been set up as downers, but Ciel has been busy through most of them. Hinata's shitty work out regime was the last of it, not counting rover prep and Haroomba painting.
He's tired. Busy and not able to think about his crap life and crap luck, but tired.
It looks like he might have fallen asleep standing up with how his eyes are closed, but then the way his brows narrow in the middle of his forehead signals his silent concentration. His eyes open again.]
They're not going to take kindly to us trying to destroy their home.
[ Sebastian responds softly only after Ciel speaks up himself. He's used to this sort of morning lull, after all, so even if he's not the one actually dressing Ciel, the routine is easy enough to fall into. As the shirt is buttoned up, Sebastian passes the next article of clothing, which Mort takes easily and continues with its work. ]
We will be stealing their futures, really. [ It's a careful selection of words, hearkening back to a harsh judgement that Ciel had once given, because Sebastian would never let Ciel fully forget the blood on his hands. It suited him better to offer these reminders, however slight they were. ]
This is beyond your work as the Watchdog. Do you think you will be ready for it?
[Ciel doesn't give Sebastian the satisfaction of looking over. His jaw sets, stiff, and his brows remain pulled down and severe. It's true. This was outside of his... jurisdiction, so to speak. Would the Queen approve of this? Certainly not, he doesn't believe. She wouldn't have approved of what happened to the children either.... Perhaps a part of him actually does regret the call he made that day.
But there's no going back.
There was no saving them, the broken and the lost. The damaged. The same here too maybe. The same on Macha maybe. Broken or lost. Damaged. But what if they weren't? What if they were fine?
Then why did the CDC deem the planet useless? What were their standards for such things? He has too many unanswered questions.] Don't speak so boldly about what's beyond me. [He gives Sebastian a sharp glance while getting into the things the Haroomba provides.] Anyway, that's irrelevant. There's no choice in the matter. [Which they would learn later apparently.]
I am ready to do what we've been brought here to do. The sooner it's finished, the sooner we can go back. If this planet was worth keeping, they wouldn't be looking to destroy it.
[ Sebastian smiles with a warmth and fondness that would seem suited to a parent, though of course considering the conversation, it couldn't be anything of the sort. These are the qualities that he admires so in his master, so of course, he can only express his pleasure at having Ciel's ruthlessness on display. He wonders how it would actually hold, but at the same time, Sebastian knew Ciel wouldn't falter so long as he was there.
Rather, he couldn't afford to.
Sebastian grabs the socks next, passing those along, and by the time he turns his gaze back to Ciel, his expression isn't quite as openly admiring, since he knows Ciel would hate it. It's back to serious and business-like without trouble. ]
That is correct, or at least, that is what we should assume. And I did not mean to insult you with your capabilities, young master. I merely meant that this level of destruction is considerably above what Her Majesty may ask.
[ Is that actually true, though, that's the question. ]
Is there anything in particular you would ask of me in advance?
[Sadly, Ciel is in the firm belief that Her Majesty would not be sly or underhanded, though maybe he shouldn't underestimate her. Queens have to be just as cunning as child earls.
Sitting back down on the bed, Ciel sticks one foot out after another, letting the Haroomba make an attempt at something smaller. He is surprised by how advanced it is, by how well it can put a sock on the small foot of a small boy. It doesn't help his overstocked greed department. Mass production in his time of things like this would be... well, catastrophic, for the job market at least. He would be rich, but butlers and maids would become obsolete. Hell, many every day jobs would. Chef, gardener; he could replace Finnian and Bard and Meirin.
But he wouldn't. Hand picking them had been something that made it worth it.] Since you don't need your food provisions, make sure you get an even distribution for me. [Because 10 lbs. of tea and chocolate........] We can also use it to barter.
And if you run into anything else you can bring, add it. If someone can modify something we have quickly, get them to do it. [A pause. He lifts both hands, palms down, and looks over the two rings. A sigh. He reluctantly removes them, then holds them out to Sebastian.] Keep these on you at all times and safe.
[ Sebastian nods along, since some of these matters he had already thought to take care of himself, such as the food provisions. He didn't know that Ciel had spent his provisions quite so unevenly, but Sebastian at least had the expectation that his food stores would go to Ciel regardless. The idea of bartering comes as a light surprise, since he hadn't considered that, but leave it to Ciel to come up with a way to turn even minor things into a "profit."
But more than that, for Ciel to take off those rings and offer them to Sebastian is the real surprise. It's a sign that Ciel is taking this very seriously, and it gets Sebastian to smile, and in a way that's not uncomfortable for everyone around him for once. It's much more genuinely the smile of a caretaker, and after only a moment's hesitation, he takes the rings, opens his suit jacket, and tucks them into the interior breast pocket where they're quite safe. ]
Yes, my lord.
[ That much he responds to properly, since he knows those rings are valuable to Ciel, even if he had tried to minimize their worth to Lizzie once. It's an order that Sebastian is likely to be especially attentive to as a result, since he knows failing that one would mean an especially harsh punishment.
Once the socks are done, Sebastian finally hands off the shoes, which are the last part of what Mort knows. Anything extra and you're on your own, punk... ]
I at least have some confidence that we should be prepared. My only concern would be if we should be separated, but in an emergency, I should be able to move swiftly.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ As always, there are audible quotes around the word, but similarly, he also takes a seat on the very edge of the bed, not infringing on the Ciel-loaf, but enough to be able to prepare the contents of his makeshift tray. He starts to pour hot water into the hug with tea for Ciel's usual morning routine, but he may hear the whirring of something new.... ]
A simple black leaf tea to start your day?
no subject
When he sits up, the sheet falls away from his head to his shoulders, and he opens his mouth only to wonder what is coming out of it suddenly--no, that's not him. That mechanical whirring. At first, he eyeballs Sebastian. Is his demon having existential difficulties? No, it doesn't seem like it....
He looks down at the edge of the bed, but is unable to see the Haro from where he sits. The noise was coming from the floor. Slowly, he leans over to investigate. Oh God. A Haro-looking thing that doesn't even look like the Haro he babysat at all. Not neon green, but... black.... Had Sebastian painted Banagher's poor toy?
Wait, he remembers: the Haroombas. He had painted theirs, too. Oh God. Oh God, his shitty demon had been given lessons in technology, and now he was making a miniature army.]
What did you do to it?
no subject
Ah, yes, young master, this is my rover-to-be's Haroomba. I call him Throckmorton.
[ With how he phrases it, there's an implication that literally no one else would ever call him this stupid name. That said, because it's a stupid name (much like "Michaelis," actually), there's almost certainly a story behind it too. ]
I participated in Mr. Noh-Varr's little competition as a chance to better my skills, and this is the result. [ He laughs lightly, then nods to him. ] Most of its use is particular to our rover, but there are certain attributes I added for your benefit.
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The name gets Sebastian an unamused glance, then he looks again at the Haroomba on the floor. He's going to call it Mort. Throckmorton is such a pretenti-- ....
Was that the name of a demon?
Sebastian gets another, more intense unamused glance.] Ours had a malfunction in the speech. It sounds like a mechanical grandmother. [Leaning over the edge of the bed, he reaches down and prods the Haroomba once on the forehead with an index finger.]
If you didn't customize it to make better tea and dispense sweets, then it was a waste. [:)]
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Hello, young master. How many I assist you?
[ Sebastian on the other hand just tilts his head lightly and curiously as he watches this exchange, since he's interested to see how his dear little Haroomba works in the real world... You can do it, Morty. ]
It does not. I thought it would be best served if I still took care of those for you, young master. However— [ He lifts the tea from the mug, then offers the mug itself to Ciel. ] It should help you with some other tasks in the assumption that I am otherwise occupied. Such as the matter of dress.
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Leaning back up, he takes the mug that is given to him, bring it up, blows gently across the surface, then sips it carefully.] What if I don't want to be dressed by one of those things? [WHAT THEN, DEMON? All your efforts... in vain.
He opens his eyes again after the sip, gaze on Sebastian. Then he swallows, turning his attention back to the Haroomba, thoughtful. Would it listen, or was it just pre-programmed?]
Mort, [He'll be damned if he says that entire pretentious name.] move three paces back.
no subject
Sebastian's expression doesn't change at all as Ciel threatens to make all his hard work for naught, because truly, Ciel is predictable. He had expected that question in full, which is why he already has an answer in mind. Mort floats back approximately three paces (Sebastian paces, that is), until it bumps against the opposite side of Ciel's room, and as it does, Sebastian explains smoothly. ]
Then I will continue, young master, but there will likely be cases where I will not be able to. Having heard what the missions upon the planets entail, there is a possibility that I will be unable to attend to you fully in favor of the tasks the CDC asks of me.
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Your service to me comes before anything else. [Truthfully, he's not so certain how that works with the CDC, but he doesn't like the idea of their contract over-riding his. Sebastian is his demon before he is their world destroyer. And while this happens to be quite unsettling to consider, it is also pretty amusing in its own right.
If the choice is left up to Sebastian, to risk a hand-slap with the CDC or with Ciel, who would he choose? Hm....] But fine. I might think about humoring it. [Wary of spilling, Ciel turns in place to dangle his legs over the edge of the bed. He has another contemplative sip of tea.]
You did this without the consent of the others in your rover, didn't you?
no subject
[ There's a certainty in Sebastian's words that makes one thing clear enough: his loyalty to Ciel will always come first. There is a part of that loyalty that's the result of having no other choice, since allying himself too strongly with the CDC would be considered betraying Ciel, a term of their contract that he could not breach, but more than that... The CDC interested Sebastian, but he had no reason to choose them over Ciel.
Of course, he had a feeling that was the lesson that his Black Box wished to impart. But all the better that Ciel didn't know that, since if Sebastian did ever change his mind, it would be disastrous for his young master over anyone else.
Still. That was nothing to worry about for now, so once again, his answer is smooth and easy. ]
My power is yours first and foremost. However, would it not be more advantageous is the CDC at least thought that was not the case? Our bond is almost certainly a liability to them. I am merely attempting to ensure that it goes without too much notice, for when it draws interest, that is when we run into problems. [ He means the Undertaker here, first and foremost, though other people that find out about their contract and are interested enough to go digging tend to be trouble in their own right, so far as Sebastian is concerned. That straightforward assessment is followed by a bow of Sebastian's head, more deferential as they move back to the topic of Mort. ]
Not exactly. They were happy enough to allow me to customize and oversee it, since it will listen to them just as well. Its functions are hardly anything extravagant, since I favor the practical.
no subject
After a few more sips of tea, he stretches his arm across and returns the mug back into Sebastian's possession. This allows him to stand, but he doesn't move away from the bed just yet. How much is Sebastian's rover going to regret making the decision to let the demon customize the Haroomba? A lot.
And something tells him that Mort is just Sebastian's way of being irritated and divvying up a workload. What a shithead.
Finally, he takes a step forward, allowing maneuverable space to be between his body and the bed.] Dress me. [He doesn't clarifying whether he is, in fact, talking to Mort or Sebastian. He is looking at the Haroomba, but the way his voice lowers, he could also be issuing a small order.]
no subject
Ah, here, Throckmorton—
[ He can at least half-ass following that order by motioning over to where Ciel's clothes are kept, opening the drawer and handing him a neatly folded shirt first. If questioned, Sebastian would of course retort that it has to learn the proper order of things too, but. It's more to be able to obey that order, admittedly.
Still, Mort is dutiful like Sebastian, but blessedly more quiet. It simply takes the shirt and hovers briefly (which Sebastian is pleased to see works, because he had to ask for quite a bit of help with that part), allowing Ciel to stick his arms into the sleeves as it holds it up. ]
no subject
With the patience of a saint, he waits in place for the butler to butler the butler. His eyes scrutinize the ball as it maneuvers over to take the shirt, then when it hovers back over to him. Again, he feels like Sebastian is weaseling out of a job.... (He is, but Ciel is under the impression that Sebastian makes a good Macha point.)
It seems like he won't be satisfied enough to continue, but finally, he relents, lifting an arm to stick it into the first sleeve, then turning to stick the opposite arm in the other one.
Then he just stands like as usual like a little punk, waiting for everything to be done.]
no subject
(Truly, how refreshing this was.) ]
Your day should be relatively free, young master. Except for any surprise announcements, I do not believe anything should be a part of your schedule for the day. It would seem that our first planet-side mission will come soon, that said.
[ He's pulled out his Blackglass at this point, and he pulls up a file, though it's brief. ]
The planet is called Macha. Seemingly fertile, with a forested environment, and with two species that would seem to be sentient.
no subject
He's tired. Busy and not able to think about his crap life and crap luck, but tired.
It looks like he might have fallen asleep standing up with how his eyes are closed, but then the way his brows narrow in the middle of his forehead signals his silent concentration. His eyes open again.]
They're not going to take kindly to us trying to destroy their home.
no subject
[ Sebastian responds softly only after Ciel speaks up himself. He's used to this sort of morning lull, after all, so even if he's not the one actually dressing Ciel, the routine is easy enough to fall into. As the shirt is buttoned up, Sebastian passes the next article of clothing, which Mort takes easily and continues with its work. ]
We will be stealing their futures, really. [ It's a careful selection of words, hearkening back to a harsh judgement that Ciel had once given, because Sebastian would never let Ciel fully forget the blood on his hands. It suited him better to offer these reminders, however slight they were. ]
This is beyond your work as the Watchdog. Do you think you will be ready for it?
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But there's no going back.
There was no saving them, the broken and the lost. The damaged. The same here too maybe. The same on Macha maybe. Broken or lost. Damaged. But what if they weren't? What if they were fine?
Then why did the CDC deem the planet useless? What were their standards for such things? He has too many unanswered questions.] Don't speak so boldly about what's beyond me. [He gives Sebastian a sharp glance while getting into the things the Haroomba provides.] Anyway, that's irrelevant. There's no choice in the matter. [Which they would learn later apparently.]
I am ready to do what we've been brought here to do. The sooner it's finished, the sooner we can go back. If this planet was worth keeping, they wouldn't be looking to destroy it.
[Right...?]
no subject
Rather, he couldn't afford to.
Sebastian grabs the socks next, passing those along, and by the time he turns his gaze back to Ciel, his expression isn't quite as openly admiring, since he knows Ciel would hate it. It's back to serious and business-like without trouble. ]
That is correct, or at least, that is what we should assume. And I did not mean to insult you with your capabilities, young master. I merely meant that this level of destruction is considerably above what Her Majesty may ask.
[ Is that actually true, though, that's the question. ]
Is there anything in particular you would ask of me in advance?
no subject
Sitting back down on the bed, Ciel sticks one foot out after another, letting the Haroomba make an attempt at something smaller. He is surprised by how advanced it is, by how well it can put a sock on the small foot of a small boy. It doesn't help his overstocked greed department. Mass production in his time of things like this would be... well, catastrophic, for the job market at least. He would be rich, but butlers and maids would become obsolete. Hell, many every day jobs would. Chef, gardener; he could replace Finnian and Bard and Meirin.
But he wouldn't. Hand picking them had been something that made it worth it.] Since you don't need your food provisions, make sure you get an even distribution for me. [Because 10 lbs. of tea and chocolate........] We can also use it to barter.
And if you run into anything else you can bring, add it. If someone can modify something we have quickly, get them to do it. [A pause. He lifts both hands, palms down, and looks over the two rings. A sigh. He reluctantly removes them, then holds them out to Sebastian.] Keep these on you at all times and safe.
no subject
But more than that, for Ciel to take off those rings and offer them to Sebastian is the real surprise. It's a sign that Ciel is taking this very seriously, and it gets Sebastian to smile, and in a way that's not uncomfortable for everyone around him for once. It's much more genuinely the smile of a caretaker, and after only a moment's hesitation, he takes the rings, opens his suit jacket, and tucks them into the interior breast pocket where they're quite safe. ]
Yes, my lord.
[ That much he responds to properly, since he knows those rings are valuable to Ciel, even if he had tried to minimize their worth to Lizzie once. It's an order that Sebastian is likely to be especially attentive to as a result, since he knows failing that one would mean an especially harsh punishment.
Once the socks are done, Sebastian finally hands off the shoes, which are the last part of what Mort knows. Anything extra and you're on your own, punk... ]
I at least have some confidence that we should be prepared. My only concern would be if we should be separated, but in an emergency, I should be able to move swiftly.