America: Radiance in Disunity [IC]

[Radiance in Disunity]

THE YEAR is 2022. 61 years and 6 months ago, as anyone sufficiently old can recount to the day, the bombs dropped. Chicago and Washington DC were in disarray. As the mushroom cloud collapsed, America was already in chaos. Riots broke out across the nation as the military police were called in to handle mass looting. But even America's military can be stretched only so thin before it rips apart. First, the South succeeded. Then, those Mormons in Utah did. New England and Pacifica fell like dominos after that.
It was clear that America was dead. But Americans as people could never be killed. So, as the Yanks had done for so long before, Americans persevered. Divided, though they were, into Pacificans, Confederates, New Englanders, are Zionists as they were, it seemed all were American in the heart, no matter what a map or a government said. And under this mentality, the American continent continued. America progressed into the 2000s, the 2010s, and eventually the 2020s.
But the image of a united culture and people is fractioning. The South is becoming increasingly provocative, while the Mormons continue to cut themselves off. In New England, citizens are once again seeing themselves as Englishmen more than Americans. Plainsmen are under the blue, gold, and green. America is dead, well and truly, Americans it seems are a dying race.
So then, is it time for a new nation to take hold of the continent? Can Quebec, united against English tyranny long before the bombs dropped, influence its neighbors? Can the natives of the North, recovering their ancient traditions, establish a foothold? Or will American hegemony be restored? Can Pacifica leverage its economy? Can the Plains control the food supply? Will the Confederacy be able to bring back the Antebellum period?

OOC

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New England Calls For Meeting With Entente Allies Over Plains-Quebec Border Skirmish
King Jakob has called for an Entente Meeting to formulate a response to the Plains-Quebec Border Skirmish, and the ongoing fight. The House of Commons is divided on a New English response, though they condemn and sanction Quebec.

BOSTON, NEW ENGLAND - His Majesty, King Jakob of New England, stated recently that he has instructed the Foreign Minister to call a meeting of Entente member-states; Pacifica, the United States, New England, the Plains Republic, Alaska, and the non-member ally of the Union of the Tribes.

This comes after a new round of skirmishes between the Plains Republic and Quebec has begun. A small, most likely unsanctioned fight broke out on the border of the Great Plains and Quebec erupted yesterday and killed at least 14 on both sides, wounding at least 120 more.

Tensions between Quebec and the Plains Republic have been steadily growing for quite some time. In 2014, the Plains began an occupation of the city of Kenora, which is still active today. The Plains Republic’s leadership has named Quebec a ‘Threat to the Republic,’ and Quebec has likewise condemned the PR.


HM King Jakob II speaking before the House of Lords on Plains Republic - Quebec Skirmish.
Credit - Boston Photographs

His Majesty’s speech urged the foreign community to mediate the dispute.

“The peace of America will either live or die in the coming weeks and months,” he said. “All nations of this continent must tirelessly labor to defend the fragile ecosystem of peace and national sovereignty. If we go to war now, peace will never again be achieved on this land.”

The Chief-General of the Entente has said that he agrees with His Majesty. “King Jakob is right. We must work as a united organization to secure peace on this continent and prevent the spilling of blood.”

No statement has been released by any Entente members so far. Regardless, the New English ambassadors to the invited nations have been ordered to request a meeting with the heads-of-government or Minister of Defense (or equivalent) with their respective nations.

The House of Commons is currently voting on a commendation of Quebec, expected to win with support from both the Liberals and the King’s Conservatives. However, some claim that New England is condemning the wrong nation.


Sir Edwin Mitheler, MP for Central Worcester and the sponsor of the bill condemning Quebec.
Credit - Hartford Visual Assets Corporation

A small, but vocal, minority in both the population of New England and the House of Commons believe that, actually, the Great Plains is the nation to blame. They say that the occupation of Kenora was an act of war, and that Quebec is acting within their rights.

“I would call for New England to do the same, in the situation,” the MP of Otter Hollow Elizabeth Vemword said. “The occupation of Kenora was an illegal invasion of Quebec, and the Plains Republic is the offender in this case. We cannot partisanly support our allies on this issue.”

Notably, some both believe that the occupation of Kenora was an act of war, but still support it. MP Lincoln Westford of West Plymouth said, “We should stop tiptoeing around the NSQ. They violate every value, cause, and ideal of the civilized community of nations.”

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Quebecois Leaders To Visit CSA

Prince Albert Abdicates Titles Following ‘Knightings for Sale’ Scandal

Anti-Crown Terrorists Burn HM Winter Palace, 21 dead

Royal Bureau of Illegal Substances Cracks Down On Meth

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In Quebec, the government has already formulated a response. They deny the fight, claiming it was a Plains Republic plot to gain a pretense for war and justify their continued occupation of Kenora. A statement confirmed the position of the Quebec government and Le Chef today.

“The people of the Plains Republic should be ashamed that they are bringing the world one step closer to war and annihilation. Their false flag has demonized the NationState of Quebec and is a clear pretense for war. We call for the nations of the globe to see this attack for what it is and condemn and sanction the Plains.”

They also said that, in fact, they would be in the right if they were to attack. “Even if we were the aggressors, we would be in the right. The illegal occupation of Kenora must be stopped immediately, and Quebec is willing to use force if necessary to liberate all Quebecois cities.”

The Plains Republic has also published a response. The Republic, too, claims that it was a false flag by Quebec, but that it too would be justified were it to happen for real.

“Quebec is a dictatorship and a failed state. [The Plains Republic] [is] not surprised they would stoop to such levels. We hope that our allies and enemies alike can see through the thin veneer that Quebec puts up.”

“However, were a real confrontation to take place, the Plains Republic would be in the right. All available steps must be taken to eliminate the fascist menace. We hope that the world at large agrees, and will support us in what may be our hour of need in the near future.”

His Majesty the King will likely expand further on his beliefs in the near future. His Majesty has been outspoken on foreign affairs in recent years, likely owing to his support for globalization.

His Majesty has also instructed the Ministry of Foreign Affairs to launch sanctions against Quebec, issuing heavy sanctions against Quebecois energy, ores and minerals, and agricultural goods.

[Beric]

Main Points
The ACFF is/has been gathering information on troop movements and deployments from the observation of bases and highways by hundreds of informants who live their lives and report what they notice to middle men who pass on the information to those who make conclusions they then pass on. The ACFF has been making small attacks for years more with the purpose of its personnel to build confidence and skill than actually hamstring the enemy or make a statement. The cells work insulated from each other with members of cells discouraged from knowing each other. Handlers know who their contact is in the cell and the regional chiefs know the handler's handler but will never meet most of their people and wouldn’t know it if they did. The organization of the ACFF maintains a significant portion of manpower dedicated to recruitment and the acquisition of information on a regional and continental basis. Most targets and plans of action are chosen on a local basis. The ACFF is preparing to reach out diplomatically for the first time in an official capacity to Quebec, using bribes to connect a lawyer (Kevin Scott) with the political sphere of the lower Quebec government. The ACFF knows escalation will require support. Support will be dependent on the strength of its actions and so larger attacks are being prepared to take place just before any meetings in Quebec. Higher profile hits have been ordered and teams are laying the groundwork but have thus far maintained their usual practices. Minor attacks in the form of random snipers against supplies moving on interstates, infrastructure attacks(bombing of electrical pylons and small transfer stations) and drive-by shootings against New York and Pittsburgh, arson against home buyers not native to Appalachia up and down the region while cells in Atlanta, Buffalo, Phillie and Dallas have become more quiet in preparation for larger attacks. None of the attacks taking place are ever acknowledged or claimed by anyone. Focus is placed on deniability at all levels from all actions. While most cells operate in addition to their normal lives some of the more dedicated elements have moved off grid over the past two years creating strike teams of about 500 and are supported by the ACFF as ghosts it can use in direct action.The ACFF has at this point not made public its demands for an autonomous state but intends to do so in coordination with the larger attacks still being prepared. Recruitment works under the guise of a dozen large organizations only loosely connected to its personnel and hundreds of clubs and groups, some political, some violent and many but not all faith based. The intention is to use assets for a few years in a less impactful and meaningful way while testing and vetting them before organizing them within active cells.

Pittsburgh, OH (Benton MacMaul)
Benton Maccaul sits in a stuffy office surrounded by paperwork, invoices, inventories and contracts he doesn’t know what to do with under a flickering fluorescent bulb. Its 5:30 in the morning and he has been in this office all night with Conrad, his contact to two of the regional commanders who sits across from him. It was quiet as Conrad went over the details, laying the news articles that reported their recent acts with the invoices. Now with the sun hinting in the east the grinding and beeping of construction equipment comes from the yard below. A equipment rental facility Benton comes in daily at the invitation of the manager. The manager knew he was here and that was all he knew. A strong supporter of the ACFF, the manager was a known resource for hiding cap monkeys and trigger men when the heat came on. Filed through on a rotating basis he had gone off grid sixteen months prior. Now it was one safe house or another under the guise of a hiding grunt within the ACFF. He gave orders to various commanders who then conducted the war as suited their region and personnel just as those under them did the same on the county and cell levels. No one at regional would know what the exact targets would be. And he wouldn’t know what kind of attacks would be ordered where until Conrad came in and laid out the results.
He controlled the dial, his people controlled the war.
Benton starts stacking the papers into a pile
A mansion in New England burned, minor attacks in the form of random snipers against supplies moving on interstates, infrastructure attacks(bombing of electrical pylons and small transfer stations), drive-by shootings against New York and Pittsburgh, arson against home buyers not native to Appalachia up and down the region while cells in Atlanta, Buffalo. None of the attacks taking place would be acknowledged or claimed by anyone. Focus is placed on deniability at all levels from all actions. Benton knows this and knows it changes with what Conrad leans in to say.
"Dallas and Phili are prepping. We will see something there in the next week." Conrad explained, his breath is acrid with stale coffee.
"It won't be worth claiming if they don't make a dent."
"They will. The Dallas group has military. Phili have a congressman in their sights."

Benton aches for more information but it is fruitless to ask. At sixty two he had resigned his commission in the 13 states army early as a junior major. Without connections he had never hoped to make it further and it had only been a placeholder. When his father died 11 years ago he had used it as an excuse to resign and return home upstate New York. He settled his fathers affairs in public, sold the gas and heating oil company and took up fishing. In private he had assumed control of a network his father had honed to a sharp edge. This was their way. The Appalachians had deep roots and so would their warriors which is partly why the ACFF has not yet announced itself publicly to the world. Some aspects of Government know of them to be sure. No organizations could be built invisibly let alone tested. They had been working towards building their strength and practice at striking the enemy for more than a generation. Soon they would announce their demands and intentions to the world and once that happened the weight of two powers at odds with each other would try to snuff the ACFF out of existence.
"I'll be going then." Conrad ventured, still sitting waiting for Benton to dismiss him.
Benton knew war would not be measured in years but decades and was prepared, having told his own son to resign his commission as a Sergeant two years ago. His wife had spent the last 18 months in San Francisco where she had a sister whom she had told Benton had left her. It was her he had been thinking of just then.
"Take care of yourself. Scott arrives today?"
Rising to leave Conrad responds softly "This week"

Reaching out to Quebec was risky, not because the lawyer knew anyone in the command structure. He was insulated by 4 handlers but they were taking a risk of becoming beholden to someone allied to their enemy the CSA. The Appalachian nation that the ACFF coveted would take a large chunk of territory from them and as their ally Quebec could just as soon turn on him but he didn’t think so. And besides if it worked and Quebec stood to gain from a weakened CSA and USA. The quaker they were the freer hand Quebec would have. If they pushed for more fires in the 13 states they would supply the matches and accept the fires would rage in CSA and USA both. If not Quebec he was beginning to make roads and contacts west to the ZIonists who would be his second choice. Not nearly as rich, their offer would never compare to the resources of Quebec and Benton knew their military wouldn’t be able to supply the same level of training grounds or supplies. Picking up a random invoice he stares at it a moment without reading before picking up a crossword to pass the morning.

Micro narratives
-Northern Georgia (Charlie Timmin)
Charlie always enjoyed hunting. More from the time with his old man than anything else but even after his father had passed eight years previously, Charlie always made his way out here three or four times a year at least. Although this far east was a little too close to route 76 that ran along Northern Georgia for his tastes. No point in being in the wilderness if you could hear the trucks and the buses making their way up and down the hills he figured.
This early the sun was up but still sitting amongst the trees and bushes and the traffic noise wasn’t too bad. Birds chirping and the sun would normally have him at ease but the traffic, the air brakes drove the peace from his mind and the M77 that he had target shot with last month but which wasn’t his own, felt heavy. As the trees grew thinner at the top of the ridge line Charlie sat amongst the rocks and looked at the highway a clear 180 yards away. The trucks had to slow as they trudged up the hill. He had never been in this exact spot before, and likely wouldn’t return ever again. These lands were his home and always would be but some places were only meant to be hunted once.
Charlie watches as the army bus climbs the hill only a couple of minutes behind schedule. Its route had been clocked for some number of months by others. Who or how well was alien to him just as the fuel truck he had fired on four months ago had been. That's how this worked. A million drops of water with no knowledge of where the rest fell filled the buckets. One day those buckets would overflow and the rest of his life would blur. But for now he could just trust that the rest worked as he did. Amongst the rocks he settles he shuffles down. The scope is still covered but he knows it is well clocked in for 200 yards. He will only need a moment to take the shot and the bus is already slowing as it climbs the hill. He isn’t thinking about the 18 year olds fresh out of high school or the deadly instruments the CSA will turn them into. Charlie is thinking about the flavor of the burned coffee sitting in the back of his mouth. How the low wind shouldn’t make a difference to the shot. There isn’t much traffic and no cars block his view of the bus. He uncaps the scope and adjusts his knee, settling the crosshairs on the bus. He knows it is hard to track a single shot from distance but any action of violence carries risk. Even when anyone that notices it will be in their own cars. He pulled the trigger, already knowing the recoil the rifle will supply.

He fires one shot and leaves the shell chambered. Edging back he is careful not to provide a profile against the tree line. He is amongst the bushes before he stands and walks down the other side and back towards the trail. He is wary of running into any hikers or other hunters but tries to keep a calm demeanor. Better to be seen acting normally than noticed trying to be discrete. Ten minutes later he reaches a muddy maintenance road and an atv sits idling with Greg sitting in his seat, a plastic trash bag being pulled out and held open. Charlie slips the rifle into the bag and heads back into the woods and further down the trail. He will be at the parking lot in twenty minutes. The gun will be buried by Greg somewhere (charlie doesn’t know where) where it will sit for a month or more. If the shot makes news the barrel will be drilled out and replaced in four to six weeks. In the sixth month the rifle will be back at the target range and in rotation. If the shot doesn’t make the news the gun will see two more rotations and then the barrel will be drilled out regardless. At the parking lot Bob, the team leader of their cell, waits in a pick up truck next to Charlie's Camry. Charlie’s personal M77 is in the pick up and when he arrives they will head into the woods for a morning hunt. Even if the shot is reported. There are likely a dozen other men with similar rifles in these hills. Why wouldn't he have gun power on him? If Greg is caught with the rifle they know each other's first names and faces but only Bob knows both of them well. Greg wouldn’t have his prints on the gun or the shell in the chamber. Enough to complicate any court hearings. Disconnected and autonomous if the worst happened their cell would go quiet for six months and Bob has been grooming two men. They don’t know what he is preparing them for yet and won’t until someone is lost and Charlie has no clue who they are but it doesn’t keep him from wondering as he descends the muddy path.

He knew the odds of anything coming from the shot were slight. 1/10 chance the shot would be noticed as the bus went on its way. 1/20 chance it hit the windshield or the engine block causing a faster reporting. Maybe a recruit will be injured or maybe they decide it’s not worth repairing the bumper and send the bus back out the only difference being a cursory inspection. Maybe 1/1000 chances he hits the driver. But he was getting used to pulling the trigger. Getting used to making a difference and that mattered more to Charlie than anything else.

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Gainesville Tx (Mary Cambell)
Mary drove in near silence with the radio turned so low it created little more than white noise to distort the sound of the engine. Try as she might, the sound of an engine aggravated and stressed her so a little white noise was perfect not to ruin the peace as dawn broke over Gainsville Texas.
It was a routine born of a thousand mornings. A short drive for her on the way to work Mondays through Fridays and just a little out of the way on the weekends. As the diner came into view Mary slowed and hit her blinker despite the utter lack of cars in sight. The parking lot in front of the diner was empty. Mary knew the staff parked in the back during the day to the side of the dumpster.
Grabbing her bag and pulling the light shawl around her shoulders Mary kept her head forward. Glancing around the surroundings only quickly as she exited the car. Ten minutes on Fridays Saturdays and five minutes sundays to pick up a pie for coffee time after mass she was here every day the weather allowed. It's Wednesday and she has an hour before she needs to be at work. and she takes her usual spot ignoring the wait to be seated. No one who has been coming for five years pays it any Mind. No fake smiles or plastic veneers but an easy greeting of routine. Familiar. She asks how the waitress’s aunt is. She is in a home and someone or something is always bothering her. Says she has a toothache. Won't eat. Even mashed potatoes so she goes after her shift and brings the leftover pot pie. She likes that. Mary explains she thinks her aunt likes the company the more like.
“Oh no. Always been her own woman.” “Anything new with the numbers?
It fits in easily as no one is near to hear them. They don't break strides. The coffee pot is still held at a 75 degree angle.
“Daisy is steady but the sunflower has jumped three inches and the bees are still quiet. Anything else for you?” “Not today.”
The waitress pulls out the tab as she pulls the pre folded dollars from her bag. They are done and will be back tomorrow. Airforce or what the csa has of one has not moved but they shifted some infantry. She can't make out what it means. Mary finishes the crossword on the page with careful scribbles as the waitress is back behind the counter. Instead of words on the paper Mary is writing a series of short hand marks meant to represent the code the waitress had used. As she leaves she pulls an extra dollar from her purse and next to the paper on the passenger seat. Driving down the road she stays in the right lane as she comes to a four way stop. There is a man holding a sign “Homeless. Vet. Anything helps. God bless”. Reaching over she rolls the window down and with a quick acknowledgment the man takes the dollar and the paper she hands him. She gives him a dollar like always and the paper like every other week for the past year when she was flagged to take on this route. They don't hide it. She is a Christian woman doing the kind christian thing for her community. He will relay the message to someone. She doesn't know who. Then hers and dozens of other communications will be compiled and translated by either a postmaster in Cincinnati or an accountant in Atlanta. The recipient is chosen at random each week, before being forwarded on. As she drives away she wonders if she should stop at the diner again on the way home. Hey husband Henry isn’t due back for two or three days. The meatloaf while not as good as her own would save the mess. Happy with her decision she pulls into the parking lot where she will go to work as a stenographer. Contracted out to half a dozen law firms she is transcribing devorce negotiations and expects it to be a tedious day and she would prefer to skip the clean up.
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Gulf of Saint Lawrence (Kevin Scott)
Just passing Prince Edward island the waves are easier and the sea more calm. No more worries about sea sickness for Kevin Scott as the cold metal of his cross sat against his heart. A necklace gifted to him from his mother who was still back in Ellijay Georgia where his sister cared for her. He had left home many years previous but had kept in touch and remained grounded as much in family as in his faith while working as an entertainment lawyer in the music and movie industries. The boat he was on belonged to a client. Julien Fortage, a famous folk singer and more recently actor, had invited a dozen members of his extended entourage for a northern vacation. 3 to 6 months was the plan for Julien.
Kevin had spent half the trip from Atlanta hugging the toilet and was just now starting to appreciate the beauty. As an entertainment lawyer he spent most of his hours behind a desk on the phone or at cocktail parties meeting new potential clients but this trip was changing that. Julien had planned the trip over a short discussion and a scotch six weeks ago. Kevin had represented Julien for 19 years but the last 14 years the terms had changed when Julien was asked to make the introduction between Kevin and Markus (Kevin’s handler). It was Julien who had been approached first but his involvement never amounted to much beyond an occasional check but Scott had been being groomed for two years before, when another member of his congregation at the Catholic parish Our Lady of Lourdes Catholic Church in Atlanta. His politics had been tested before he knew the ACFF existed and before he knew it was the ACFF he thought he was being approached by a front political movement organizing a superpac for Anti Abortion legislative action. His mother never quite understood what a superpac was but approved of the company he kept more than she did the singers and tabloid stars as she referred to them as.
The super pac is real and its effects minor in Kevin’s opinion. His background vetted without his knowing while he wrote checks and volunteered at charity dinners and Julien was encouraged to stir the fire in Kevin until it was decided he could be trusted.
Then Kevin had worked deciphering codes once a week before forwarding them on to Markus. Then three years ago a change occurred and when Markus suggested more might be needed from him Kevin agreed. Sense then he had met with Markus twice a year at first discussing options for small elections and what the various candidates brought. How to bring the communities of Appalachia closer despite existing within three countries. Kevin had grown as cynical about the cocktail parties and the drug overdoses as he had the politics and the elections that never amounted to any real change. When they asked he agreed. When he told Julien where he needed to go Julien didn’t ask why. Now they were coming into port for the season and if all went well Kevin would never leave but he would find a way to make this world a more holy place.
That was before last year when Markus met with him eight times reviewing information. Markus had some knowledge of foreign affairs but Kevin has never known how. Kevin knows he is the face of something greater than himself. A groundswell movement for a Christain Nation in the heart of his homeland. This movement was not on the same level of the second coming of Christ but a movement for a true faith based society that Kevin admired. He knew there was violence at play and more to be had but trusted in forgiveness of sins and that it was for the betterment of mankind. Much had been lost when the bombs fell and too many people were being cycled through the machinery of progress. He knew what the ACFF needs were and he knew he could never go back home but regular contact would be set up once he confirmed Quebec was in play.


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Buchanan, NY (Jason Hamet)
They were running late. They were supposed to be gone before dawn but a car accident outside Peekskill had forced a detour, then Mark had insisted they circle and evade for three quarters of an hour. So now Jason could see not only the lights but the domes of the Indian Point Energy Center and they were not even half done. He had entertained dreams of taking the station a month ago but knew they weren’t ready. The truck was a In his duffle the Tovex weighed heavily, digging the strap into his shoulder.
Jason edged through a fence towards the next Pylon. He wished they could have gone after the station but it was far too much for them. Even if he had been in the Marines and they could have worked with two or three other cells the cost would have been high and margins low. Looking back two of his men pushed wheelbarrows, one empty and the other half full of ammonium nitrate.
They had spent the dark hours before dawn placing explosives at the support legs of electricity pylons. It was the first time the ACFF had tried to undermine the power grid in New York on a large scale so they had gotten this far without being spotted but four men planting explosives under pylons in broad daylight was too risky. Even if it reduced their effectiveness they would take three pylons over none. On his order his men started prepping the explosives there in the dirt and weeds. A waste but better than being caught with it on the high way. Amongst the Nitrate their coveralls and gloves and the wheelbarrows would be placed to remove as much evidence as possible.
The sun was well over the tree line when they reached the access road. Jason looked to his watch. 28 minutes until the fuses detonated.

-Andrews TX, (Henry Cambell)
Henry climbed out of the truck and finished his beer. It had been a long night of sitting in the truck looking at the passing traffic and the stars. He had poured more beer out than he had consumed but was ready to get some sleep. Behind him three other men climbed out of the truck and Matt tossed a spent can in the bed of the truck. Tonight it would be Henry’s turn and by this time tomorrow he expected to be in Gainesville again.

-Summerville, SC (Mark Sutton)
Mark moved his e4 pawn to f5 and waited to see if Steven would take the bait. Steven hadn’t proved a great chess player but certain things could be learned as with life in general. More important was his dishonorable discharge from the South Carolina National Guard. Steven had been referred to Mark seven months before as a potential asset to the movement. Introduced to Mark via the Pastor at the Summervilles Baptist Church who had in turn been referred by a parishioner who served with Steven in the Guard and reconnected after returning to civilian life. Steven didn’t take the bait and whether than draw out the game Mark decided to let him have it.

“How is Mcnally’s working out for you?”

Steven glanced up. Annoyed at the sore spot. Mark knew he had been fired for showing up late and Stevens' reaction cemented his decision. Displeased with life and society Steven was, god fearing to be sure but he was sloppy and had no place in the ACFF.

“I’m at O'reilly's auto parts now.”

The most Mark saw in Steven was an agitator. Someone to sling slurs at demonstrations and a distraction.

“That’s good.”
Mark left himself open for a checkmate and thought about his cousin who was getting married that weekend. As a recruiter for the Appalachian Christian Freedom Front mark knew what to look for. He had over the past thirty years sifted through hundreds upon hundreds of referrals distributing their talents for the movement and knew a good agitator would draw attention leaving his actual agents freer to move in the background. He was well practiced at reading people but even so always took his time. Seven months he had been building a cordial relationship and now he would draw back. Encouraging Steven’s worst opinions, quietly urging him to become more political just to create noise at the local level. And he had a dozen of other potentials in various stages that he groomed and sifted through one at a time.