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{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2016/12/29
|Location=Hellsing-1 Earth <HE1>
|Synopsis=Heinkel Wolfe meets with Seras Victoria in a London coffee shop. It's a great opportunity to deliver a few reports, and also for each to learn a little something about the other.
|Cast of Characters=363, 1084
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:363|Heinkel Wolfe (363)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;Winter has drawn a veil of grey over the city of London. Too warm to snow and too cold to be tolerable, most of the populace has taken to pea coats and umbrellas, retreating to the comfortable indoors for the afternoon.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;There's a coffee shop not too far away from the Hellsing manor that had a good reputation. On the recommendation of their newest vampire, the Iscariot representative had promptly turned her 'company' sedan to that address. Making the trip in minutes flat, and probably leaving a few terrified civilian drivers in her wake, Heinkel Wolfe opens her car door in time for the rain to start again in earnest.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;By the time the tall figure pushes through the coffee shop's doorway, Heinkel Wolfe is already shaking out her umbrella and leaving a spreading pool of water on the floor, muttering in German under her breath.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;It's something to do with Protestants and their miserable rain-soaked island, but the words aren't entirely clear.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;Under one arm, the androgynous priest clutches a briefcase, which looks like it managed to stay pretty dry. She shakes her coat out, draping it over her arm to reveal a nicely-tailored cassock, starched collar, and cross of iron on a leather thong.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;...Wait, don't Iscariot's priests usually carry silver? But that's unmistakably not silver. It's too dark a metal, and even the brightest spots of it don't have the tell-tale tarnishing of silver.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;Huh.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;One finger rises to push her glasses firmly onto the bridge of her nose, and Heinkel Wolfe tilts her head very slightly to one side, rolling the toothpick from one side of her mouth to the other -- it wouldn't be very proper to smoke inside. More importantly, they'd probably make her go outside, and the weather's not fit for man or beast.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;So Heinkel Wolfe lifts her head, hair slightly streaming water, shaking her coat out over her arm as she scans the tables for Seras Victoria.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;...Not that poor Seras seems to have any idea of whether she's dealing with a Brother Wolfe or a Sister Wolfe.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;Oddly, the priest hasn't taken off those dark sunglasses they're wearing, either. They're sleek but completely wraparound, almost like vintage-style goggles because of the round lenses.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1084|Seras Victoria (1084)}} has posed:'''<br>Said recommendation comes by way of Seras' police comrades. Now nothing but dust, but it wasn't so long ago to her. Not even a year.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Seeing as who she's going to meet, Seras has decided it's not a bad time to show off the coat Heinkel sent her for Christmas!<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;She strolls through not long after Heinkel arrives, brushing off a few dustings of snow. For SOME ODD REASON OR ANOTHER, it doesn't melt from body heat too terribly well these days. She scoots around past this table and that, seeming not too familiar with the place she suggested...<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;But soon ambles over to Heinkel's table , smiling merrily... although with hints of childish nervousness seeping into it. Just like that she takes a seat.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Good... evening." There's a hesitation. Once more, uncertainty over just how to address the person she's working with.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;A second or two of intense glancing over Heinkel's attire commences...<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"You mentioned some tings that need relaying?" After another nervous second she adds, "Hope the coffee is to your liking. The others in D11 were fond of it, but... I never got around to coming here, before..."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Before THAT happened.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:363|Heinkel Wolfe (363)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;The Catholic has set the briefcase on the table, and she's meticulously adjusting her white dress gloves as she does. They're nice and crisp, with just enough grip to be able to sort through papers and the like.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;She looks up well before Seras is actually anywhere near her table. She's learned to pick out Seras' footsteps from the tread of others. One brow slowly raises as Seras weaves past this and that table, so she's looking directly at the Hellsing agent when Seras approaches. This time she has both brows raised, as though silently asking, 'got a problem?'<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Guten tag." Heinkel lifts a hand in a casual wave.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;Aside from the non-standard sunglasses, the rest of her attire is perfectly normal for an ordained Catholic priest -- the lining of her coat is what lends the snatch of violet colour, with gold-trimmed hems; classy and elegant. The cassock she wears under that is much more understated. Her hands are covered by white dress gloves, and the lustre of the fabric suggests satin, which also makes it conveniently difficult for Seras to discern gender by the appearance of her hands.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;Still, it's a bit odd that she won't take her sunglasses off, and the fact that her cross is iron instead of silver is equally puzzling. Iron is an almost worthless metal. Why would the priest be wearing that? Is there some kind of sentimental reason?<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;Whatever the case, it's evidently clear that she /is/ of some station within Iscariot. Her clothing is not overstated, but its craftsmanship is superb, and the textiles used are elegant, quality; without being ostentatious.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Ja. Mostly, these." Heinkel reaches around what looks like a generously large mug of hot chocolate to the briefcase. "Reports from Chief. They're for Integra. I don't know vhat he's got prepared, because it's above my paygrade. Ach, and the briefcase ist locked, so don't efen bother. I suppose they must haf vorked out a deal that Integra has a key, und Chief has his own key for relaying sensitive documents."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;The priest snorts, leaning back in her chair. Her mannerisms is shockingly casual for such a priest and hunter of monsters; unconcerned and nonchalant, without being apathetic.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;She grins. "The coffee vas shit," she says, casually. "They do haf really good hot chocolate, though. Tea selection isn't bad, either. Coffee's my preference, but it's just as vell. I felt like something sveet instead." A gesture is given. "Haf vhat you vant. Today's meal ist on me, if you haf time to stick around. Technically you're just supposed to courier this back to that voman you vork for, but ve might as vell get to know von another vhile ve haf time, ja?" Heinkel offers a smile that's actually somewhat friendly, rather than predatory or toothsome. "Sound good?"<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;Hmmm. Seems she's taking this whole alliance thing seriously!<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;...She's probably one of the only Iscariots who /does/.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1084|Seras Victoria (1084)}} has posed:'''<br>"Sorry... ordinary food and drink... I can't." Seras offers a slightly regretful, apologetic look. Lips pressed thin, brow furrowed a little. Her shoulders bunch up in a shrug. What's she supposed to do about it really?<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;With more and more oddities revealed as Seras scans over Heinkel, the draculina purses her lips thoughtfully... mulling over on some thoughts, by the look of things. She's clearly not one to hide her feelings very well.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;In the end she can only nod at the briefcase arrangement... and set her hands on the table while she ponders a response. IN no time at all though her expression brightens. "There's no arguing with that! It's... I went from working with a firearms unit to this and." She briefly frowns, scratching the back of her neck.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Not very popular with most of the soldiers, and the rest of the people I work with are... everyone's made of pure steel. Or stranger things. It takes getting used to."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;She can only grin a little bit sheepishly. "How was your day, erm--" Once again, the matter of gender has her starting to stare...<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:363|Heinkel Wolfe (363)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Ach, I'm sorry." Heinkel sounds like she actually means it. "I forgot that about your kind. Ve don't vork vit vampires, so it's not like I vould remember that particular fact."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;Iscariot is generally more concerned with putting bullets into vampires than taking them to a buffet. Up until recently, it had been extraneous information; mere trivia to be filtered out.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;Heinkel leans back in her chair, arching a brow as she watches Seras. Oh, yes; she's well aware that the Draculina is studying her. She reaches for her hot chocolate, sipping carefully with an exrpession of apparent nonchalance. "Hunh. Something on your mind?"<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Guess I can understand that. Of course a vampire vouldn't be too popular vit the troops." When there's always the possibility that you could become emergency rations, it's hard to stay optimistic. "As for steel... you'd do vell to put a little of that into your spine, too, Police Girl." Heinkel gesture with one gloved hand. "Sooner rather than later. In this line of vork, not hafing your composure could get you seriously hurt... or the people around you."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;She pauses to accentuate her statement with a noisy, and completely satisfied, sip of hot chocolate.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;Her head is facing Seras almost completely, which suggests she's looking directly at Seras. It's possible she might be making eye contact if her eyes were visible. "Vhat ist it? Spit it out. Just because ve used to be on opposite sides of the battle lines, that doesn't mean ve can't talk to each other. That's the whole point, here." Heinkel taps at the table with a forefinger, as though to indicate it. "And I seriously doubt you're going to offend me, vhatefer you're going to ask--" She can guess, "--so just ask it."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;Heinkel shows her teeth. It's supposed to be a grin, but it's a little like the wolf that cornered the rabbit. "Or are you so easily scaredn?"<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1084|Seras Victoria (1084)}} has posed:'''<br>Seras' expression goes ful childishly indignant at being confronted like this! but she answers the challenge by leaning forward herself.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"... I can't tell if I'm talking to a Mr. Wolfe or a Ms. Wolfe under that outfit." The complaint is rather firmly grouched at Heinkel and matched by a faintly immature stare.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Despite the girlish exterior, this police girl does seem to have some steel in her already. "And on top of that... you're wearing sunglasses. Indoors. My Master does that all the time... isn't everything too dark?"<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:363|Heinkel Wolfe (363)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;Withdrawing from her lean against the table, the priest leans back in her chair, folding her arms in evident unconcern as she's summarily confronted by an indignant police girl. Her head cocks slightly to one side. "Hunh?"<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;Maybe Seras was expecting to be snapped and snarled at, but that's not what Heinkel does. No; she... grins? The priest chuckles, but it's not a full-fledged laugh. She doesn't seem the sort given to emotional reactions, considerably cooler-headed than her colleagues.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;Not that this is a terribly high bar to pass, with Anderson for a colleague.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Fine, fine." Heinkel reaches into a pocket, fishing out a battered old wallet and plucking identification from it. It's a small folded Vatican Section XIII document, which identifies the figure as one Heinkel Wolfe, thirty-seven years of age, with green eyes and blonde hair, five feet eleven inches, and one hundred fifty-three pounds.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;It's a little curious that it isn't a driver's license, but it does all look very official. It even has approval by way of Vatican City officiaries stamped on it. She'll let Seras inspect that as long as she needs to, sipping at her hot chocolate. "I haf an eye condition." Her hand points at her eyes. "It's actually the opposite. Eferything is too /bright/. Nein, nein. I'm not trying to be rude. I just can't take them off."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;Fingers lacing, she leans forward, resting her chin over her interlocked fingers. Heinkel smiles, and it manages to not look too much like a smirk. "Anything else...?"<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1084|Seras Victoria (1084)}} has posed:'''<br>"Uh--?" Seras blinks, and shrinks back to give Heinkel space to proceed in presenting this document. Her gaze rather drastically sweeeeeerves to scan over the papers. Every second she's doing so feels increasingly embarassing... because...<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;It's a really, impressively dumb thing to not be clear about someone's gender. REAAAAALLY... she's got to be coming off like some kind of retard!<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;But there it is, on the paper. "...female..." Blink. Blink blink.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The vampire girl slowly sprouts a smile. The strangest, most out of nowhere, completely uncensored smile. No adult professionalism filter at play here, not for this brief moment. "So you're a Miss Wolfe. I couldn't tell..." The smile sliiiiiiiiiides towards shades of mortification and deepening embarassment, whole face quivering like jello through plane turbulence.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Yeeeeeep.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"And an odd eye condition. I get the feeling you and I have some similar problems, Miss Wolfe." Seras' voice is measured, but tiptoey as she touches on this topic....<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The nervous gaze is rather self-evident. Well, especially there with a fang sticking out of an increasingly lopsided, stupid smile.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;God, she must be INSANELY embarassed about this screwup right now. It's as if, were things to get any worse, she might melt into a puddle on the floor.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:363|Heinkel Wolfe (363)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;Once it's clear that Seras is finished examining the document, Heinkel gathers it back up, folding it crisply and tucking it back into her wallet. Two fingers dig around in it to flick out a driver's license, the plastic clattering as it spins end over end to stop in front of Seras.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;It pretty much corroborates what's on the Iscariot document -- one Heinkel Wolfe, female, thirty-seven years of age, with green eyes and blonde hair. Five feet eleven inches, one hundred fifty-three pounds, and it's specifically a license with clearance to drive a motorcycle as well as a normal class-C vehicle.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;The photo is very slightly blurry, but it's recognisable as her. In the photo, her eyes seem uncommonly bloodshot; red and irritated. Despite the assertion that they're green, they seem abnormally pale; almost a hint of blue. They look like they have some kind of condition. No eye should be that bloodshot under normal circumstances.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;"That?" She raises a brow, tapping at the frames of her glasses. They don't move. "Hunh. I don't know vhat you're talking about. I vas born vit a condition. My eyes are light-sensitive. These are prescription lenses. Made for filtering out certain spectrums of light."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;Another sip of hot chocolate follows. She'll just wait a minute for Seras to calm down; treating this all very business-as-usual and not harassing Seras for such a socially inept question is probably helping. "Any other qvestions...?"<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1084|Seras Victoria (1084)}} has posed:'''<br>THAT response just leaves Seras pushing her head a bit more forward, eyes squinted in a very clear 'if you say so' manner. She appears to be satisfied though, for she closes her eyes, inhales deeply - more to clear her mind than because she needs to breathe - and takes a moment to focus her composure again.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;A more professional, but still genuinely friendly smile emerges from the kerfuffle. "Nothing comes to mind, Miss Wolfe! ... well... maybe one thing. Just... how long have you been in this line of work?"<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:363|Heinkel Wolfe (363)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;With a flick of the hand, Heinkel gathers up her driver's license, tucking it back into her wallet and depositing the wallet into the pocket of her slacks. Her hands return to her mug, wrapping them around it for the warmth. Steam still curls up from the cup itself. Whether she's human or not human, apparently she feels the cold damp weather like a human.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;Her head tilts to one side, as though she were genuinely not expecting that question.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Hunh." Heinkel pauses for a drink of hot chocolate, as though she were either stalling or considering the answer. "There are two possible answers to that," the priest muses. "Von of them ist the line of vork I vas in before I vas efer recruited by Iscariot. That von's pretty much all the vay back. As for Iscariot, though, I'fe been in this business for eleven years."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;She reaches into a pocket, withdrawing a toothpick and placing that into the corner of her mouth. If she can't smoke, it at least gives her something to do. She chews on the end, absently rolling it to the other side of her mouth as her hands drop to cradle her mug again. "I vas paired vit my current partner eight years ago. Und I'fe been dealing vit the multiverse for five years, officially und unofficially."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Oh, und just call me 'Heinkel.'" Heinkel scowls. "'Miss Volfe' makes me sound like an old voman, ja? I'm not /that/ old."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;She grins, showing her teeth. They are very, very slightly pointy; subtle enough that it could just be one's overactive imagination. "Vhat else? Might as vell take advantage of my villingness to gife answers right now. Then you can tell your mistress you vere doing your due duty, ja?" Her expression falls. "I haf every intention of honouring this alliance, because if ve spend all our resources fighting each other, ve're /all/ going to fucking die. I know some of my associates are a little narrow-minded, but I haf to play the long game. Und right now, our 'long game' is on a short timer, vit all the shit going on out there."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;Heinkel jerks a thumb towards the door of the coffee shop, as though to indicate the world at large. "So if that's vhat it takes to keep /your/ allies' hackles down, then by all means, I don't care if you ask me things. So please. Ask avay, until your curiosity ist satisfied. Vhen I can think of a good thing to ask, I vill, so I can tell Chief the same thing."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1084|Seras Victoria (1084)}} has posed:'''<br>"Wh--... augh, you think I'm here to spy and dig for information?" Seras' face turns childishly indignant again, cheeks puffing slightly and lips curling upwards. The expression's short-lived though. "I was just curious, Heinkel. It's under a year for me... two if you count D11. Didn't you say we should get to know who we're working with? I have only one complaint with your bunch is that one--" A shiver runs straight through Seras and kills a lot of her firm tone there. "... incident." She exhaaaaales, shoulders sagging, and folds her hands in her lap. "Catholic, Protestant... even if someone came out claiming things in the name of Zeus, I'm not picky about it. I joined the police to stop awful people from doing horrible things. And I'm still doing that! It just..."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;She presses her lips together into a very thin line.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"... It just doesn't involve arrests very much..." She frowns. This apparently bothers her slightly. But oh well.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"This rivalry means a lot more to everyone else than to me."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:363|Heinkel Wolfe (363)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Vhat? No. I'm expecting you to bring this back to show our superiors this benefits them, so they can stop trying to kill each other vhen the media isn't looking." Heinkel pulls a sour expression, gesturing with one hand. "Trust me vhen I say there's still no love lost between Hellsing or Iscariot. I'm saying that giving them some kind of useful information vould shut them the fuck up for a little vhile und leafe them satisfied that they got their digs in."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;She leans back in her chair, comfortably. "Hunh. So you're not actually Protestant. I guess there's hope for you yet." Heinkel smirks, faintly. It's a joke. Mostly. "More seriously, I'd suspected as much. You don't haf an iron ramrod up your ass like Integra does."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;As a matter of fact, Heinkel has plenty of respect for Integra. She just thinks that iron ramrod needs to be removed. Look, respect, from the Catholics; that's a start, right?<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Our job isn't to arrest freaks, und you can't read a ghoul its rights, either." Heinkel rolls the toothpick to the other side of her mouth, absently chewing on the end, and ignoring with valiant effort the urge to light a cigarette. "Ve're exterminators. Ve are the necessary evil. Ve do vhat ve haf to do so others don't haf to."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;Releasing her mug, Heinkel cups her chin in her hands, regarding Seras. Although her exact expression can't be seen, her body languages suggests it must be casual and nonchalant, as she so often seems to be. "Tch." It's a soft snort, and this time one corner of her mouth curls down. "Ja. That much ist obvious. You don't come from a church background, so how vould it haf any relevance to you? Still an important conflict in parts of the vorld, though I think efen North Ireland's quieted down in the vake of the ghoul incidents."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;"It goes like this." She raises her right hand, gesturing lazily with the toothpick. "Neither side ist villing to gife ground, und both think they're right. They'll go on shouting each other down 'til Judgement Day comes und ve find out vhich von vas right after all, ja? But I don't really care about that, either. I don't come from a church background any more than you do; I'fe just been vorking for them longer, ist all."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;She shrugs. One has to wonder where she was if she went /to/ Iscariot, as a career choice... "My interest is in getting both sides to play nice long enough to stop trying to shoot each other in the face, und turn their guns on the fucking /freaks/, as it should be."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1084|Seras Victoria (1084)}} has posed:'''<br>"Not much of one." Seras affirms mildly. "I get the schism. It's just... killing each other over an argument doesn't strike me as something Jesus would be very happy about!" Seras' expression screws up in a rather twisted fashion.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Like you said, we have much bigger problems to deal with. I'm not keen on being at anyone's throat over a dispute like this-- errr--"<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The Draculina blinks a few times, pondering over what she just said. "Oh god. That did NOT come out right..."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:363|Heinkel Wolfe (363)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;"I can't say I can argue vit that, but neither could I really make that judgement for sure, either." Heinkel shrugs one shoulder, draining the last of her hot chocolate before sticking the toothpick back into her mouth, tilting it this way and that.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;The priest gestures, as though indicating one party pointing something out and another looking that way. "I just prefer to keep their attenion focused elsevhere. If they think they're getting avay vit something, it'll make them less inclined to vant to get aggressive, you see?"<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;Perfect silence falls for a few seconds, as Heinkel lets Seras blunder right into that botched metaphor.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;And then the priest smirks.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Uh huh. I'm just going to pretend you picked a different metaphor." Reaching over, she slides the briefcase toward Seras. "Here. Make sure this makes its vay to Integra's desk. Don't bother trying to open it; I'm pretty sure the Hellsing voman ist the only von vit a key aside from Chief."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;Heinkel pushes herself to her feet, fastidiously shrugging back into her coat and adjusting it into place. Once that's done, she fishes through her pockets until she finds her wallet again, leaving her payment on the table. "In the meantime, as much as I'd like to stay around, I haf a few reports to finish putting together for Chief. Then, I think I'm going home to Ferdinand Luke's. I haf a powerful desire to bury myself in bed vit a cup of chamomile tea und a book."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Danke, for the recommendation on this place. If I ever see my partner again, maybe I'll take her here. She has a fondness for sveet things." Heinkel rustles her coat about herself, stuffing her hands into her pockets. "Auf wiedersehen~."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;With that, if Seras doesn't have anything else to hold her up with, the lanky priest will make her way out, back to Rome, where things make sense and are made of eighty percent less gloom and rain.<br> <br>
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