Queen of the Castaway Isle

The trapeze artists jump and spin, falling either to their deaths or their trust in the nets.     

The lion tamers throw their feed of flesh and nurse their wounds.     

The clowns. Quite possibly the most versatile, most overworked, and underlooked object of terror. Jack of all trades and master of none. Sure there are acts but really, they run the show.     

All around the ringmaster.     

Master of ceremonies. Just as much a performer as any clown. Maybe the biggest of them all.     

They all spin for the audience, a void in that spotlight glare. There might as well be no one at all, beyond the stage of light and darkness.     

They act, they improvise.     

The show goes on.     

"Have you done as I've asked?" a young female's melodious voice crackles through the walkie talkie.     

They only went so far. 3-6 miles optimal stated the package. Park on a tower and you might get it go longer.     

If not, try again on a clearer sunny day. That's really all they can do. Try, try, fail, and try again on a better day. Out here. Anywhere.     

Wasn't that all they could do?     

How inefficient humans were.     

It worked well enough, regardless.     

"You will have to be more specific, Miss Sophie. For you've asked for many things... " Ryo presses the button, answering back to the black box.     

Many things and so so many more still left unsaid. There were many things for him to do, even without Sophie's requests.     

They were interesting though. So many new leads. So many perspectives not in plain sight, or anywhere near the surface. She herself was an interesting character.     

The most interesting clown in the whole show.     

Ryota remembers many things. Hard to forget, even when he wants to. That's just how his brain was wired. A gift many would call it. Or curse, once you really thought about what that meant.     

Too many moments, forever etched into this mind.     

Logs. Receipts. There's not forgiving and forgetting. There's no forgetting.     

So it wasn't anything difficult to recall, the sole time his 'family' took him as a child. To the circus of all things. Because that's what families did. They took their kids and went out. Enjoy themselves in the oddest amusements and freakery.     

What a play. What a show. They were the biggest act and they didn't even know.     

It was a bit novel yes. Nothing too out of place from what he has researched on the internet the night before. But things were always wider, more interesting, seen in real life in front of you than some glowing screen and keys.     

Even as a youth, he was already missing that childish wonder. That magic.     

Magic didn't exist. Only illusions and people's desperation to believe.     

There were plenty of things they didn't understand as humanity yet. But there was no magic. Nothing just...happened. Poof.     

Nothing was just as it appeared. The acts didn't put on themselves. People, the performers, suffered and slaved. Laboring away for that one night, and one night only, spectacle. Hours, days, lifetimes wasted away in practice for one act. People died for their craft. All for a few minutes of the viewers' consumption.     

There was no magic, but that didn't mean there were no results. And that didn't necessarily mean Ryo didn't enjoy himself.     

He couldn't quite...feel, like the other children. Couldn't see the world as they did. But it was interesting none the less.     

Like how all those clowns didn't just magically appear out of the tiny car. There were mechanisms. Clever tricks. All sorts of cramped sacrifices made up in paint and smiles to spill out the results they did.     

There was one clown in particular.     

A true pierrot.     

His coloring was stark, glaringly so in all the forced colors of the atmosphere. A strange smile that stood out from all the others. And though he danced with them, he was solely above, directing them all.     

The masked fool winked at the audiences that passed by, paying little to no mind. Just clowns.     

Even Ryo didn't see much, nor care. Not even when a cheap balloon somehow landed itself into his small grip. But he noticed.     

When they all took their seats. When the lights dimmed and the show 'really' started, the ringleader in his tall hat welcomed them to the applause of everyone.     

He winked in the spotlight, and Ryo knew.     

It was the very same clown.     

Secrets kept. Tricks a played. Did you notice? Do you notice where else he's come and gone? Another harmless smile, a bow, and the lights go out.     

It was almost magical.     

That's the feeling Ryo gets now. Decades later. In a very different situation, one of life and death even.     

The ringleader is hiding among clowns, among the audiences. You never know just what she's doing or why. But one wink, one smile, and she'll let you see a show.     

Figure it out if you can.     

"Why not all of them? Tell Ryota, are you bored all by your lonesome?" she narrates through the frequency.     

If he closes his eyes, she stands before him on a dark stage. A threat. The ring.     

"With you around? How dare I?" he responds in complete honesty.     

"Flatterer. I think you'd be the sort that could stare into nothing for hours and not be bored." like the voice on late-night radio, low and smooth, she chuckles. It's soothing.     

"AH, caught me there. But it's not nothing. Clouds blow and take shape. Even a snail crawls with a leg. I'd watch paint dry if I could see the microscopic view of it. " he falls back in his chair, stretching out the stiff muscles.     

The sky had gone dark hours ago. His grass curtains closed. No overnight patients to look after today. No one with a good enough excuse to use his space.     

It was alarming, how easy it was between them. This strange girl he knew for hardly a month. Going on two. She wasn't even around him most of that time. Yet it was as if she already knew him. Another him. From maybe another time and place. Hidden in the crowds, doing whatever it was that mysterious actors did off the stage.     

He's a little terrified. It almost makes him feel something.     

"The clouds are all over the place. It's raining too hard for anything else. Your snails are drowning and unfortunately, I think there's something underneath your painted walls. " the voice answers back too easily. Unafraid. Undisturbed.     

"Like a madwoman perhaps? Underneath the paper? Is it you? It's clear tonight. "     

Radio silence. But Ryo doesn't worry, this was far from scaring her off. He almost wants to test it. What that limit was. Almost.     

"You've been free and reading strange things. Haven't you? How lovely, things must be going smoothly down there if you have that luxury?" when she laughs like that, she sounds far older than she really is.     

"I wouldn't say smooth exactly. The ovens were a bust, as expected. No time for learning errors, but they're a heat source. Also, not unless you count no less than a dozen fights already broke out. I got lazy, or rather...isn't it too convenient for me to keep treating them after something so stupid? With only so many resources, I have to make the cut off point somewhere. " Ryo lazily repeated.     

The last time he said that it was met with a mix of anger, resentment, and the silent authority of the masses.     

Can't waste supplies. Can't waste what little they did have.     

"No one died from it, good enough. Or bad, depending on how you see it. Yes. Prioritize the health of the useful ones." Sophie's voice crackles back.     

"Do you mean the hunting teams? Legitimate injuries and room for error? Hmm?"     

Someone specific in mind? The underlying question.     

Sometimes Sophie has names. People either to protect or to watch out for. Like favors. Like warnings.     

Mary Beth, kept safe in the general shelter. A cheerful pudgy old woman with an American Southern accent and a surprising amount of survival and medical knowledge.     

Isko. The veterinarian, a useful hand and a potential long term alley. Big friendly guy, maybe too much so. Comes with a big dog. How did the airlines let a dog that size on, Ryo can only chalk up to some very good paperwork?     

The Gyeong brothers, Shawn and Stefen. Strange pair. The elder brother worked as a bodyguard for another individual but the younger? The teenager was clearly of mixed blood compared to his much older brother. Wasn't anything truly important, but it raised some curious questions. They looked young and strong though, and Ryo supposes that's what they needed at this point.     

But the enemies.     

"Oh you won't need me to point out who or where they are. Too obvious. I'll even give you a hint, ...everyone. "     

Sophie had teased ominously then. She still laughs now. Safe and hidden wherever she chose as her backstage, where he supposes she can work her magic.     

She's right. He doesn't need any further hints to know that it was everyone man, woman, and child for themselves in the end. You don't need a deserted island to know that. But something about dark times and dire situations really just brings it out in people.     

"You know, it's very interesting. How fast those condoms sold out." Ryo brought up, a step closer to what she wants to know.     

"Oh really now? What a shame, did you at least get to have some fun?" the voice laughs low.     

Just this conversation is far more amusing than anything she was indicating. But there was always something wrong with Ryo anyway. This mutation, this lacking of basic desires. He just learned how to leverage it. Coping mechanisms stacked and sold in the most attractive way.     

"Hmm, maybe not in the way you were hoping. Interesting demographic of buyers though. What they'll pay. Shame indeed. For whenever will another supply like that come up? ...They think I'm lying of course. Made it look that way, that I'm somehow stocking more...well...anything and everything. So, did I play a good enough cover for your plans? Do I get to know the next? "     

"Aww, good boy. But don't sound so eager to play my dog. We'll all get the wrong ideas?"     

"Is that what you're into? Noted."     

"That's what you're into, some very specific into. But enough fucking around. I'll leave you to rest if everything else is going as well as it can. I'm surprised even, how we're lasting. " Sophie admits like she expected a little more chaos than this. A little more disaster.     

"Well. They haven't fallen into utter depravity raping and cannibalizing each other left and right. If that's what you're looking for. But they are getting bored and most of your food stocks are gone, even with the airlines rationing the control. Amazing what people will get into when their basic needs of shelter and hunger are met, but just barely. " he lights a cigarette. A rare treat. It goes well with her voice.     

"Oh Ryo, don't be such a downer. Of course not, we're all civilized people here. " she gasps, sounding horrified.     

Mockingly so.     

"How many lines do I cross if I say I miss you already?" he breathes out the smoke, leaning against the edge of his window in a growing sense of suspicion.     

"You miss having a fix. Something actually interesting to focus on. A case. More than just those silly human needs. And I, am an excellent source of amusement for anyone with more than two brain cells to rub together. "     

Sounds rummage, not just from her side of the receiver.     

"Right again Miss. Sophie. Scarily so. I hope you don't take offense. " the doctor slips on a pair of gloves, sanitary and protective.     

His free hand fiddles with the tools a his disposal. Sophie seemed to enjoy playing jungle with a sharpened spear, a stick really. He doesn't blame her, distance is a very important thing to keep for any vulnerable party. So he doesn't' mind the weight when he slips on a deceptively slim lab coat, or comfortably puts back on his higher topped leather shoes.     

" On the contrary. It's a compliment, especially coming from you." the line stays stable this silent night.     

A pause in the rain. A calm and lull.     

"Say Sophie, may I call you directly Sophie." he slides one of the noisy trolleys to the door, used for patients or equipment. Does it to sound busy.     

"Most people do, but yes. You may."     

"Hypothetically, what would be the general commonly approved limit of punishment in a case of trespassing and or robbery? In this situation. " he continues to enjoy his guilty cigarette, the side of his chin keeping the black box upright as he test swings the somewhat heavier than normal medical hammer.     

Last longer when you invest in the good durable stuff. It was an older model, but wasn't that just all the more interesting?     

"Well, I would guess all's fair now. Especially in self-defense. But the general consensus? Especially since we're all civilized people? Just enough to maim, to make an example of. Why? Don't tell me you didn't get that gate up as I told you to? You're such a target," Sophie sounds as if she's tapping the machine, slow and lost in thought.     

"It's a little short, not much time with all the rain. The mud is a little wet just about everywhere. So many complaints. " he admits, shrugging.     

"Ah. Easy to flood. Easy to see footprints? Tell me, how are the rats." her voice spikes in curiosity.     

"Everywhere. If you don't build up or solidly enough. Fat things. " he gives her that.     

He keeps things a little too minimal, a little too strictly sparse, to get any himself. Thankfully. But they wrecked the camps and messy huts throughout.     

He's only glad they didn't carry any fleas. Or at least, no one reported that yet.     

"Aren't they? The hunger issue would be partly resolved if they just, gutted and roasted them up. They're quite clean, living all organically. Just skin well, the fur is quite sharp. " it's easy to imagine her going off-topic.     

Bored. Rambling. Cold. Sticking out her tongue childishly cute. So many masks, so many stories and shows to tell.     

"Hmm, I don't think the majority is quite on board with that yet. We're all still a little too addicted to clean and processed. " Ryo keeps the speaker close to his ear, muffling all other sounds.     

There's a net, hanging.     

That overly sweet old woman, Mary Beth, had knitted it up from vines not much unlike a fishing net or a too large shopping bag. For all his troubles she had thanks to him after one of his checkups. As a professional in his profession, he wasn't unused to gifts of all sorts. It was useful, tightly bound, and a kind gesture, so he accepted it to her cheerful glee.     

Maybe more useful than he originally thought.     

"Don't let me keep you." her voice comes softly, a mere whisper over the static line.     

"Rain check?" he offers.     

Another time. Another night. Another excuse to waste a good cigarette.     

"Haha oh god no. Don't talk to me about rain, well the seasons almost done. Good night Ryota, I'll have something good for you the next time I impose. "     

There was no hanging up really. Press the button when you want to speak. When you want to be heard. Otherwise, there was nothing but silence and static. Plastic cases and wires underneath that most wouldn't know what to do with.     

That's why Sophie even bothered with him.     

Ryo knew.     

He was nothing much more than something useful. Someone who could play with wires under the surface and make them work. He's always been useful and it was his one redeeming trait in the void that was him. All he had to offer in a greedy world.     

To his patients.     

To his professors and mentors.     

To his parents.     

Absolutely everyone.     

If he wasn't useful, he was worse than nothing. Because there was already something wrong about him, something too defective. He didn't react right. Didn't operate right.     

And that made him better than the rest, but only because the world said so.     

He knows if he wasn't as useful as he was, no one wouldn't even give him more than an awkward glance. Nothing personal. That was just the way the world worked. He was broken and not in some poetic famous way. Maybe he was born that way, maybe it got worse over time.     

He didn't know.     

Something he did know, was how to recognize others. Like floating islands of their own. Another clown, a fool, blended into the crowds.     

He was useful to Sophie. But that wasn't it. That's not why she approached him first. That's not just what she has him around for.     

He just doesn't know what.     

He closes his eyes, listening for the silence. In the dark space between the door and his eyelids, the audience waits with bated breath. He thinks he's gone bit too long without sleep, again. Seeing Sophie there where she couldn't be. Standing as the ringleader in that circus of years gone by. The illusions turn warped when she turns to the crowds, to him specifically, as if inviting one faceless boy up on stage.     

As if he belonged.     

The raised half step acting as a porch creaked, and Ryo kicked the trolly through the doorway.     

A scream of shock came out of the stranger in the dark. Using the cart, Ryo pushed to keep that initial distance between them, scanning his surroundings.     

At least two, the other person beyond the porch to his left. Ryota rams the cart into the first person again, having no qualms in running them over with as much aimed force as possible. As soon as he gets enough space out the door, he throws the empty net to the other person. Surprising, and trapping them, long enough to buy time.     

Rolling the first stranger under the trolly, he steps down purposefully. It gets painful screams that easily identified the attacker as male. If it wasn't already obvious. But not painful or disabling enough.     

The ground outside was partly cleared, but not treated or covered anywhere well enough. At most some smooth river stones to help ease the way for the trolly. Still quite muddy and messy.     

So Ryo has to lift a bit, in order to redirect and slam the trolly against the perp's head. Less interested in running them over but ramming the eardrums. Disorienting his visitor for as long as possible, before rolling and trapping him temporarily against the wall with the cart and a weight.     

It took no more than half a minute, and then it was onto the side accomplice. Already partly tangled in the too-long too large knitted net.     

With his hammer, he goes low. Aiming for the knees. But in the dark, it merely hits a thigh.     

Close enough, and Ryo can quickly locate the knee right after.     

When the man under the net doubles over in reflex, Ryo hits down hard over the back of his neck. Then his spine. When the other man brings his hands up for protection, it's too open for attack points. Ryo keeps up with descending hits to the sensitive vertebrae, despite the lack of damage. It brings the stranger down low enough that he can knee the man in the face. Or at least where he assumed the face was. All before getting another small hit into the side of the man's head.     

Judging the level of threat to be acceptably low, Ryo goes in to tie to the net.     

But just for insurance, he forces the man down to the ground and slams the hammer down over his hands. It's a little blind in the scramble, and thus he is not responsible for any broken fingers between his really too small steel hammer and the rocky ground.     

"Thank you. My closest neighbors are some from Ms. Cruz's team but I always wanted to test out their reaction time if anything were to go wrong. If you could scream louder, as loud as you like really, that would be much appreciated. " Ryo requests down.     

Someone goes cussing and spluttering, and Ryo is forced again to slam the hammer down onto any attacking hands. Possibly breaking them, then binding the best he can. Since he didn't have time, nor bring extra bindings, he simply slammed the hammer down on the man's legs as well.     

As the man behind the trolley groaned himself enough sense to push and move, Ryo was back to help. Pulling away the trolley blocking his way, and slamming down with the hammer.     

"Stop! Stop! Let me -ack explain!" cried the dizzy stranger.     

"At this hour? Without a single word of warning or greeting? Even jumping the fence? Why how rude of me." he hits down again, keeping the man on his back, even as he yelped and screamed.     

Ryo wasn't aiming to kill, not even maim. It was all self-defense. His goal was to incapacitate but if someone got their nose broken, well can he really be blamed? They were squirming quite too much down there.     

Not that a hammer this small could do much. Not unless he really aimed. He wasn't going for their vitals, it was really fine.     

"Yo yo yo what the hell?! Kazehaya do you have guests or what? -" came a new approaching voice, backup and flashlights getting closer.     

Finally help arrived.     

"Almost four minutes. I could have been threatened and murdered many times over." Ryota squinted down at his watch.     

"Somehow Mr. Kazehaya, I doubt that." shined some flashlights. Francesca and two of her men on the scene with more of something to clean than anything else.     

"Now. Now you may talk." Ryo offers to the man just underneath his trolley and hammer. The chance of threat very low bound up and surrounded like that.     

He sighed into the chewed up bit of a finally burned down cigarette. Unable to fully unwind and enjoy it in all this action. A bit of a waste.     

He was tempted to light another, even with all these eyes. But he'll save it.     

What an interesting time it was out here regardless.     

-------------------------     

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---     

"You're fucking him already? Damn." a lazy sprawl. A boy looking far too comfortable on his stomach despite his flu like condition on venom, on leg hung lazily over the side of the couch.     

Sophie doesn't bother responding to his provokations, not after the mess Leon made when his body chose to be conscious. Choosing rather to set the walkie talkie back to position.     

"Is that the plan. Hit early and phone sex him to death? Because that was about as seductive as fermenting a shark. Mmmm bitch, you lost your touch." words too wrong, it didn't match up with the young though harsh face. One cheek squished against the cloth surface, frustrations made evident elsewhere.     

"For the last time Leon, you're not getting alcohol. Or drugs. We don't even have any." Sophie takes a nearby seat, resisting the urge to step out for a smoke.     

Can't be a bad influence on the kid? More like can't give Leon an excuse. Any room.     

His body was only 12 years old at this point and fucked up enough.     

"Fucking bitch. " he blearily half rolled over on the sofa. His frame so small and slight he fit on the flat part of the cushions perfectly. He could pass for younger easily.     

"Did you drink down the detox?" she referred to the still full cup of mung bean and herbal brew.     

A nice modern mug with a handle and everything, how luxurious. Not broken coconuts and bamboos carved into something. Anything that could work. Really now, Sophie was already seeing the improvements.     

"Give me booze, a chocolate shake, or death." a not so cute kid mumbled into the cushions, under the thin throw blanket. That if not for sheer comfort, Leon would have ripped up in frustration.     

"Sounds tasty. Personally, I'm craving some dim sum. You know what those are right? These little breakfast dumplings and dishes that-"     

"Fucking hell shut up so I can pretend I'm not here dying from this," he growls, hisses really. And all Sophie can do is hold back her laughter.     

This is the same bullshit she woke up to all the way back when this started. Back in time. Back into her past. Filled with regrets and 'oh god not again'.     

"You're not going to die," she explains again.     

She was very careful in his aftercare and checked the effects of the venom. Slow but stabilizing in the painfully weak recovery phase.     

It hurt. Agonizingly so, in a way, you can't ignore. Deep in your guts, fighting through the tunnels and nerves that flow through the senses of your body. Cotton headed, weary in between living and hell.     

Fun times on rancid venom overdose.     

"Already did," Leon's stubborn enough to spit out. Closing tired red eyes, blaming the waves of pain on any tears that escaped. Pain that you can only feel if you were fucking alive.     

Not again.     

Not this shit again.     

"You won't. " she sighs, sinking into the seat.     

Too busy doing nothing. Too overwhelmed with it all.     

"I'm in hell. Aren't I? I always knew I'd see you again here. " Leon speaks into the dark, his own tongue foreign in his mouth.     

This entire body of his felt foreign. Wrong. Too young. Too tired.     

"Maybe. Maybe this really is a corner of hell. Just for us. But we're here now. " Sophie says, as simple as can be. She was always good at compartmentalizing.     

Or was. Was good at that, before the breakdown. Before the burns and the stress that turned her whole head white, that rolled her eyes so far back she swore she could see through time when all she saw were corpses.     

Insanity. Fun ride.     

Silence.     

Silence and muffled ragged breathing.     

A boy that dares not move after the rage and desperation had their way with him. After no amount of numbing alcohol or substances could ever help. Even after it killed him.     

It didn't. He was still here.     

He was here.     

"I wished. I wish it wasn't a dream. " Sophie gets up, rummaging through stashes of broken splatter and supplies that she didn't let Mattie clean up.     

At least not yet. Leon needed his space. He needed his own time and space to cope with this reality, amidst all the pain.     

"It wasn't like this from the start. I woke up one day. One random fucking day. 13 or so years into the past, one day before my flight. Lucky number right? Life made me it's bitch, and I fucking took it." she finds a large pill bottle.     

Nothing fancy to anyone back home, just some pain killers. A priceless relief at the end of the world.     

"And then I stole the thunder, took up all the drama that Foster first got into. Took the first bite. Got the venom myself, straight. Fucked myself up for how long. "     

He doesn't respond, doesn't even move to her words. As if he could stay still long enough for it to be real, for him to not exist.     

Just a frightened child that never grew up. Never could. Now look at him.     

"I wished it wasn't a dream. Hallucination, snake oil witchcraft, I fucking give up. I lived Leon. I lived and you died and I didn't ever expect that. I lived three more shitty sober years than you did and I'm sorry. I'm sorry I left the way I did. I'm sorry I left you alone. "     

No amount of painkillers was going to fix this. No lifetime supply of anything would.     

"I wished it wasn't a dream, I still do. Every morning I wake up, breathing. They're alive. They're all damn alive and whole? Damn it, I give up. Hell wins. They can have me. Everyone's alive and we're still trapped here, but hell can have me if I get this chance. " she places the pills on the tray with the untouched brew.     

Clatters to make sure he hears it, really hears it. Even if he pretends he doesn't.     

"I wished for you too. But I know that's not what kept you. Leon. Where did you go? In the end of it all, where did he, you, go?....you don't have to answer me right now. But think about it, that's the key to this fucked up shit. " Sophie's tired.     

She's been tired.     

A night without rain means a dreamless sleep, her favorite. Full void. As close to a peaceful death as possible while living.     

She gets it.     

But she couldn't die. Not then and definitely not now. She didn't deserve that. Not when everyone lost the way they did.     

Everyone but those fuckers. The ending survivors. Survival of the strongest.     

Life really was cruel.     

"Drink and rest up. Mattie's ban is lifted in the late morning, and he'll be in to clean to his heart's content. Don't try to fight anything and just....rest. You need it more than you know. " she does not pity him.     

She has never pitied him. He would never let her. Not as a firey eyed teenager, not now.     

It's just that...the shape of bones on his slim shoulder look so easy to break.     

Leon never looked strong. Was never big, tall and intimidating. But he was a survivor, one of the only survivors. And god- she wished that out of everyone, at least he would have made it through.     

But she doesn't blame him for exiting the way he did. For dying. It was preferable to all this, when life has always made you its bitch. Too much. The world is too much and you can't fight it whole.     

She makes to leave, back to her own bed, her own rest. No matter what mental age, Leon was Leon. And he wouldn't trust himself to show vulnerability to anyone. Not if he could help it. Wouldn't even take the medicine if she was around to watch.     

Stubborn brat.     

"...disappear." his rasped voice halts her in her tracks. Soft, like the barest of a claw's scratch, still there.     

"...." she turns to look at him, just as still and turned to the dead-end side of the soft sofa.     

"...I wanted to disappear. That's all." he chokes out, throwing the blanket over his head completely.     

Did you?     

Sophie doesn't need to ask.     

That little boy is gone. That distraught fucked up little boy, living day to day on scraps of pleasure. That kid never left. And Leon never knew any other way.     

"Okay." Sophie nods, even if he doesn't see it.     

She just wants him to know he's still here. And that she understands, not more than him, never, but she gets it. And she'll take it.     

The hint.     

When a slim dark hand sticks out the blanket, flipping her off with a middle finger, Sophie takes it as her sign to go. Even though it's her damn cave.     

She shakes her head, and says goodnight with a "yeah yeah fuck you too."     

I'm glad to have you too.     

When she passes by Mattie, sitting squat on the floor. Solemn against the wall, she doesn't say anything further. Not does she mention how June sleeps on his shoulder. Both of them waiting for something they can't understand. But do so anyway.     

She nudges him up, silent, and curls up in the safety of their warmth again. Like when they first got here. Huddled pathetically in each other for comfort.     

One day Leon will come to her, like he used to.     

But not now.     

She'll let him disappear, just for now.