[ti]Ep 2.5[/ti]Chasing shadows (Open)

[Deleted]

(Ep. 2.5, Week 1 day 2)

It's the small, almost imperceptible changes that bother him most. The ghost of a scent lingering in the air, furniture slightly out of place, a missing stylus, a camera's view turned just so. It's the little things, the thing's he's not supposed to notice but does that make him want to scream. The bigger things, those don't bother him as much. When the changes are transparent, when there's no mistaking that something has been altered behind his back, at least there's no room for doubt. At least he knows someone is just trying to get under his skin.

It's the doubt that gets to him, that's what makes the little things so much more unbearable.

He could deal with some prankster hiding his stylus, or moving his furniture, or shuffling all his meticulously sorted files. He could walk into his office and find it completely re-arranged, and while he'd certainly be aggravated by the breech of privacy and common decency he would at least know it was deliberate. He couldn't imagine something that big, not unless his processor was completely fried. But the little things - God damn them, they were harder to figure out. They were harder to pin down. There wasn't the same kind of certainty that he wasn't just reading too much into things, that he wasn't just seeing connections that weren't there.

Maybe he just forgot where he put something, maybe someone bumped the furniture on accident, maybe the camera's mount just needed re-calibrating. Maybe there were no changes at all, and he was just seeing things. God knows it wouldn't be the first time.

Dragging a hand down his face, Red Alert heaved a heavy sigh, then focused his too-pale optics back on the monitor before him. He was over-thinking things again. He was making mountains out of molehills, letting his cautious nature get the better of his rational mind. No one was deliberately trying to bother him. No one had been in his office, no one had rummaged through his files, and no one had tampered with his cameras. If they had, he would know. They would have left more evidence behind than little things that could easily be explained away if they were noticed at all. No one was that clean, no one could make a get-away without leaving behind a single trace.

Except, maybe, for Mirage. Or Jazz. Or maybe even Zoom-Zoom if he -

No, no. That idea was too far-fetched even for Red Alert.

He just needed to ignore all of this, the suspicion, the uncertainty. It would pass, eventually, and he'd be able to redirect his focus onto legitimate threats to the base's security. He was letting himself get worked up over nothing. He was just stressed about the truce, and MECH, and their ever-dwindling supply of Energon. There was no dark, insidious plot brewing right under his nose. He was being ridiculous.

The sound of footsteps jolted him from his thoughts, startling him back into reality. He blinked at the screen in front of him, wondering how long he had been staring at it, lost in his own head, before turning to face whoever had interrupted his internal monologue.

[Javelin]

The footsteps continued towards the office, slowing a little as they approached the open doorway. They slowed....slowed...almost stopped. Eventually, the owner appeared in that same doorway, peering inside.

Javelin peered within the office, taking a swift look around before her blue green optics settled on the lone occupant. A hesitant smile graced her face, as if she wasn’t entirely sure if she’d be welcomed or asked to leave straight up. One hand raised slightly to lay against the door frame, the other dangled at her side, a datapad clutched there. From where he sat, he might be able to make out the white text on black background - english, not Cybertronian glyphs.

“Hey,” she spoke a little quietly, offering him a nod, “I was passing by and thought…well I just thought I’d stick my head in and say hello. Trying to get to know everyone here at the base. We only spoke a few words when I first arrived. Thought you might like some company. If you’re busy, though, I can leave, I don’t want to bother you.”

She noticed the monitors in his office, the locations they were set up gleaned from the small view she had. A lot of the locations were still unknown to her, but a majority of them seemed to be common areas. She found herself wondering if her quarters were likewise monitored, and she made a mental note to check closer when she returned.

[Deleted]

The moment Javelin appeared in the doorway Red Alert looked her up and down, scrutinizing her with a critical optic as he was wont. It was a habit of his, one he wouldn't necessarily call bad, but it certainly didn't do anything to discredit his poor reputation as a paranoid nutjob who didn't even trust his own teammates.

Granted, he didn't trust most of them, but that was because they hadn't given him any reason to. True, most of them hadn't given him any reason not to trust them either, but when met with uncertainty Red Alert always erred on the side of caution.

Hence why he met Javelin's offer with (what he felt to be) an appropriate level of skepticism.

"You wanted to say hello." He repeated slowly, just to make sure he heard her correctly. "And see if I wanted company."

He let a short silence fall between them then, his browplates furrowing over his pale optics as he regarded Javelin with an impressively flat look.

"...Do you know who I am, or has my reputation not preceded me for once?"

Oh yes, he knew damn well what the rumor mill had to say about him. It was impossible not to, his audials being as keen as they were. He never had to eavesdrop on private conversations in order to hear what was being said - so long as the speakers were within a two mile radius of him, they may as well be shouting their gossip across the room at one another.

[Javelin]

Oh she heard of his reputation. It was hard not to. Even in the short amount of time Javelin had been at the base, she had heard of Red Alert.

Javelin had moved around a lot, shipped from one outlying base to another, anyplace recon skills were needed. Once Decepticon bases were discovered, it was simply a matter then of attempting to destroy them, and whether or not they were successful, she often only heard about it later, when she had been shipped to yet another location. Sometimes she stayed at a site for a long time, but more often than not, she was moved around.

A result of this was that Javelin learned to read between the lines. When you were constantly faced with new people and new locations, you either had to learn to read people, or continually be left in the dark. As a result, Javelin was rather good at picking up information from the people around her. She learned to read body language, pick up emphasis on words, hearing what wasn’t said as much as what was. A word spoken here, a laugh, a snort, a grumble. A playful elbow between two friends as they walked along a hall talking about another. A glance between people talking lowly about something. They were all tells that once you learned to read them, screamed information.

And Red Alert was spoken of.

She heard his name spoken in awed tones, or annoyed ones. He was apparently both a blessing and a pain in the aft. Paranoid, distrustful, irritable, angry, anti-social, stick-in-the-mud, and other, even less complimentary terms were used by individuals. She heard he didn’t like loud noises, arrogant mecha, or risk takers. She wasn’t sure just how much she believed. Only time would tell.

The look he gave her certainly wasn't missed, but she didn't let it deter her.

Javelin turned, her back now leaning against the door frame, arms crossed over her chest, datapad tucked screen first against her chest. Another faint smile graced her face, her voice low and quiet, “Oh I’ve heard of you, yes. But I prefer to make my own decisions about people, not let others tell me.”

Another glance at the monitors. It was more of a reaction than any real interest in what was being said. Looking back at him, she shrugged.

“Ok, fine, I stopped to say hello and I was looking for company. I haven’t adjusted to the Earth cycles yet, and I feel sort of loopy. There doesn’t seem to be anyone around, but I knew you’d be here on watch.”

She paused for a second.

“Anything I can do? I haven’t been assigned anything yet and I hate being idle. Scrap, I’ll sweep the floor in here if needed.”

[Deleted]

Red Alert looked Javelin over for a second time, his brows slightly as if he wasn't quite sure what to make of her anymore. She had certainly given him good reason to reconsider his first impression of her, but for all he knew that could have been deliberate. It wouldn't have been the first time someone changed their tune in order to get on his good side.

Only time would tell if her words were genuine, or if she was simply saying what she thought he wanted to hear.

Glancing back at the monitors beside him, Red Alert frowned slightly, his optics immediately drawn to the camera that was ever so slightly off-kilter. It wasn't a problem, really. It was only slanted by a few centimeters, probably knocked around by the local wildlife or a particularly strong wind. The effort it would take to fix it was more trouble than it was worth.

Yet still, he found himself considering it. Strongly considering it.

“Hm.”

He hummed, lost in thought for a moment, then looked back to Javelin. It seemed as though he had finally come to a decision on something, and that something involved her.

“Alright. If you want to make yourself useful, then you can follow me out to the southeast edge of the perimeter. There's a camera that needs adjusting, and these days not even I'm allowed to go out on my own.”

It was as sure of a sign as any of how bad things had gotten, that a mech as aware and alert as Red couldn't safely go out on his own. If anyone was going to see a MECH squadron coming, it would be him.

[Javelin]

Javelin followed Red Alert’s optics to one of the monitors, watching him look at it.

The view was nothing important that she could see, but then she had only been here for hours and not days. Hopefully she’d get the layout of the base and everything in due time.

She was impressed with the number of monitors there were. Most of the places she had been were about the size of the earth base, or smaller, and none of them had a system like this set up. Javelin wondered how long it had taken Red Alert to create all this.

Her spark jumped gleefully when his first few words were about making herself useful. Yes, please! She always found it hard adjusting to a new planet’s solar and lunar cycles, and the best thing for that was being active until you felt a little tired.

Smiling, she nodded, “Sounds good! You lead, I’ll follow – still don’t know my way around here yet. Anything you want me to carry?”

Tucking her datapad into her subspace, Javelin took a step back from the doorway to give Red Alert room to pass by when he needed to. The smile faded from her face, “Oh. Yeah. MECH. That’s...terrible.”

Javelin felt a little stupid once the words were out of her mouth. She thought it sounded vapid, but she didn’t really know how else to word it. She had no experience with anything like that before. She had been on planets where Cybertronians weren’t welcome, yes, but to be on a planet where you were literally hunted and taken apart to see how you worked?

That was sickening.

[Red Alert]

Red Alert wasn't quite sure what to make of Javelin. She seemed the decent sort, polite, eager to help or perhaps just desperate to have something to do, to occupy herself with. It was an all too relatable sentiment, though Red supposed his reasons for needing to keep busy were a fair bit different from hers. Some people just hated to be idle, or bored, or unchallenged. Other people, people like Red, needed constant distraction from their own thoughts lest they turn on themselves like a mental ouroboros, the mind consuming itself in an infinite, spiraling loop that would leave anyone feeling just a bit batty.

Javelin, in her effort to while away the hours, had presented Red Alert with the opportunity to do the same - and in a way that didn't involve staring unerringly at several dozen monitors for hours on end until someone (Ratchet, most likely) stopped in to make sure he hadn't burned out his optics or forgotten how to blink.

He supposed he should be appreciative of her little unexpected intrusion, even if her motives hadn't been intended for his benefit.

Stepping up and away from his seat, Red Alert gave the wall of monitors behind him one last cursory glance before turning to face Javelin. His optics were bright and pale, the magnifying rings wide and dilated from focusing too long on too many screens. He blinked twice, once out of reflex and once to reset his vision to a lower level of magnification. It took less than four seconds in total, the rings of his eyes contracting asynchronously as he made his way towards the door, nodding to Javelin as she made way for him to step out of the room and into the hall. The door locked automatically behind him, but he still waved his hand in front of the motion-detector just to be sure it wouldn't open without the code.

It didn't, which Red Alert had expected, and it stayed firmly shut when he tried it a second time, just for good measure.

"Right then." He said, more to himself than Javelin.

"Let's not be all night."

He didn't bother to look behind to make sure Javelin was keeping up as he turned and made his way down the corridor - he didn't need to. A mech of his talents always knew when he was being followed, even when he wasn't.

[Javelin]

Javelin watched as Red Alert stood, and took a second to adjust his optics. She sort of knew the feeling...when she was monitoring for patterns, she could get lost in visuals as well, and her optics took the brunt of it. Analyzing patterns in speech, writing, or even just visuals in alien patterns looking for codes or hidden messages – it was one of Javelin’s skills. The strain on the optics, though, could ache.

She politely stepped back as he stepped outside, and she watched him as he checked the door – twice.

So far, Javelin hadn’t seen anything to make her think he was overly paranoid, and she found herself wondering faintly if the rumours about him hadn’t been incorrect. There was nothing wrong in being sure, after all.

Once he started off, she found herself scurrying a few steps to try and keep up. Red Alert’s stride was strong and swift, and it took her a few seconds before she managed to fall into step slightly beside and behind him.

She felt a little awkward not talking...most people chatted all the time, after all. Javelin, however, had discovered to her dismay that her years of living with aliens, blending in, learning about their ways and habits in order to infiltrate them and look for signs of Decepticons had took it’s toll on her in ways she never expected.

Javelin felt like a stranger among her own people now.

Was it possible to lose the ability to talk to your own kind? She could sit down, right now, and have a good conversation with any number of different species – including a number of them who knew Javelin for a long time but not as a Cybertronian. Her ability to alter her holoform always allowed her to look like whatever species she was infiltrating. But with her own kind, with other Cybertronians, she now felt....stilted. Awkward.

At the same time, if the rumours about the mech she was currently following were true, he hated chatter for the sake of chatter.

Something simple, then.

“Do the cameras here slip out of alignment often?”

[Red Alert]

Red Alert was not exactly the laughing sort, though this was not to say he lacked a sense of humor. He had one, he simply wasn't prone to fits of mirth, or hilarity, or really any sort of positive feeling whatsoever. The most he managed, on the average, was a quiet snort or scoff accompanied by the barest hint of a smile.

For Javelin, he manged the latter - a quiet scoff and a faint, blink-and-you'll-miss it smile that barely lifted the corner of his mouth.

He spared her a glance over his shoulder, gave her another once over. Either she was desperate to make small talk, or she hadn't let the rumor mill color her perception of him, because no one who believed in the accuracy of his reputation would have asked him that question. He slowed a bit, then came to a full stop so he could turn and look at Javlin properly, size her back up and reassess his first impression.

"No." His tone was dry, though still vaguely amused. "They don't."

He then raised a hand and pointed to the ceiling, gesturing for Javelin to look up at the camera mounted just above their heads. It was a strange, boxy looking thing of mixed human-cybertronian make. Its casing gave it the outward appearance of a standard human camera, but there was no doubt the internal components were of Red Alert's own design.

Red Alert tilted his head slightly, and the camera swiveled to mimic the gesture, its face pointing down to stare at at Javelin with its wide, unblinking eye.

"They're PTZ cameras. That means I can remotely control their Pan, Tilt, and Zoom."

He dropped his hand back to the side, and with a quick mental command, allowed the camera to return to its normal, autonomous sweeping.

"We're not going out to adjust the camera manually. We're going to investigate why its fallen out of alignment in the first place."

[Javelin]

Javelin had to admit, what he was showing her was pretty impressive. Red Alert had, apparently, wired all the cameras in the base to his own personal processor? It wouldn’t just be that one camera, that wouldn’t make sense. Did he have every one of them set up like that?

The thoughts that he could just move from camera to camera in his processor – if that was in fact what he had done – amazed her. At any point in time, he could link to a camera, and take a look.

Normally, that would bother Javelin. Her own background made her a little wary of surveillance, but here, now, during wartime, it was nice to know it was there.

“You’ve...got them synced to your own processor. Wow. That must be handy as hell.”

She glanced up at the camera again, and suddenly found herself trying to remember if there were cameras in the personal quarters. He wouldn’t do that...would he? Surely they were allotted some privacy...

Looking back down at Red Alert, she folded her arms across her chest, not in an aggressive manner, but more in a relaxed one.

“Well...depending on where they’re located, there could be a lot of reasons. Wind, animal activity, rock falls, even curious humans. But I, uh...doubt it’s any of those.

Just how many cameras are there? Outside the base, I mean? How big is our perimeter? I haven’t been here very long....all this is still pretty new to me.”

She paused, turning towards her and lifting her arms in an “After you” sort of motion.

[Red Alert]

It was always interesting, seeing how people responded to that little party trick of his. Most tended to err on the side of disconcerted, finding the idea that the common areas were under under constant surveillance to more disconcerting than comforting. It wasn't as if he could manipulate more than one camera at a time, and even then he needed to be within a certain distance to send/receive signals to/from the camera's transmitter. Of course, nobody ever bothered to ask him how any of it worked, or what the limitations were - it was much easier (and perhaps more vindicating) to assume that he was some sort of all-seeing eye that could spy on anyone, anywhere, at any time. He wasn't sure when that became a staple of his reputation, his being some sort of omnispective voyeur, but the rumor mill absolutely loved to latch onto any shred of evidence that supported the theory. (Confirmation bias at it's finest, that.)

Nevermind the fact that it was his job to monitor the goings-on of the outpost; people always want a more salacious interpretation of reality, something or someone to gossip about, a molehill to turn into a mountain. It was one of the many reasons Red Alert wasn't particularly fond of people, both in large groups and in general. Everyone seemed to want him to be part of some sort of scandal, to catch him doing something questionable just so they could have something new to talk about. Red Alert had no interest in having his every action and motivation twisted to suit the narrative his poor reputation had laid out for him, and so he kept to himself as much as he could - out of preference as much as necessity.

Of course, circumstances would sometimes demand he remove himself from his self-imposed isolation and face the proverbial firing squad that was the public eye. It was always a trial, interacting with others, trying to gauge their responses and figure out what they were thinking but not saying, what their intentions were, what they thought of his responses. It was a never-ending guessing game, one that had dauntingly high stakes, no reward for correct answers, and no way of knowing if he was right or wrong. Even right then, with Javelin, he was uncertain where he stood - he had used the word handy to describe his trick with the camera, which seemed like a perfectly innocuous thing to say, until he wondered what she thought it was handy for. His damn job was the obvious answer, but the way she crossed her arms afterwards made him wonder if she had been trying to imply something unsavory and was attempting to soften the impact with a casual gesture.

Red Alert took a brief moment to measure his response, not wanting to read something into Javelin's words that wasn't there, but equally unwilling to say something incriminating in the event she really had been taking a dig at him.

"Handy is a word for it."

He personally thought necessary was a better fit, but he knew full well how poorly that could be interpreted, so he refrained from mentioning it. The last thing he needed was another 'concerned neighbor' thinking they needed to pass that information along to Optimus, or Primus forbid Ratchet, as if they both weren't already keenly aware that yes, he thinks it is necessary to sync his own internal systems with an elaborate network of cameras and sensors and alarms - the exact number of which was nobody's business but his own.

As harmless or genuinely curious as Javelin's question may have (possibly) been, he wasn't about to give it a straightforward answer.

"Not as many as I'd like." He said before turning to once again take the lead.

This time, he actually looked over his shoulder to make sure Javelin was following, despite not needing to see her to know precisely where she was relative to himself. The gesture was more performative than anything, something he did on the odd occasion that he remembered most people keep tabs on others with their eyes, not their ears, and the lack of the former on his part might be interpreted as indifference. He didn't want her to think he was just plowing on ahead, not caring whether she followed or not, simply because he was listening for her instead of looking.

"As for the perimeter - I'm told it's a wee bit excessive." 

His tone was dry, a touch derisive. Primus forbid he want an advanced warning if an Unknown was approaching the general vicinity of the base.

[Javelin]

She fell into step just slightly behind him and to the side, a sort of secondary position, content to let him lead, content to just follow. Red Alert’s status was much higher than hers, and for the most part, Javelin wasn’t the sort of bristle at authority for authority’s sake. If he was her superior, he had clearly earned that position, and she was ok with it.

Keeping her arms folded lightly behind her as she walked, Javelin’s head moved about as she took in the surroundings, trying to give herself a mental map of the place. She was familiar with the general area, but knew there were a lot of hallways and the like branching off. She had already managed to get lost once before in a new Autobot base, and had no desire to repeat it.

“Well...I haven’t seen it, but I don’t think excessive a bad thing. We are at war. On a planet with a species that isn’t supposed to know we exist. You kind of want fair warning if someone’s getting too close.”

Javelin’s near-silenced peds thumped softly on the floor as she followed behind Red Alert, dampening her footsteps.

“Do humans come out this way a lot? I’m used to infiltrating organics and gaining info that way, but I haven’t had much chance to study Humans. Save for the “internet”, and ... let’s just say I don’t think there’s anyone monitoring that thing for accuracy.”

Her own voice dripped down into sarcasm for a moment as she spoke, before lightening again.

“Do you....look after this entire base by yourself?”

[Red Alert]

Red Alert, as a general rule, wasn't much for small talk. He wasn't one for talk at all, really, so he always felt a little out of depth when engaging in casual conversation, especially with near strangers - which was virtually everyone, because he adamantly refused to allow anyone to know him even a fraction as well as he knew them. Even mecha he had known for years could hardly name a single personal thing about him, or really anything at all that couldn't be discerned at a glance. Not for a lack of trying, of course - Red Alert simply didn't like talking about himself, didn't like being the center of anyone's attention. When people tried to get to know him, he would always shift the focus of the conversation or give a vague, noncommittal answer until eventually they learned to stop asking questions.

No doubt it would be the same with Javelin, who would inevitably tire of him once she realized he was a puzzle that refused to be solved. Even the most persistent mecha, after weeks and months and years of trying to know him eventually accepted it was a lost cause and moved on. He wondered, idly, how long it would take Javelin to accept the futility of trying to make nice with him - it would never get her anywhere, she would never be able to pry loose any information he wasn't willing to give. Being friendly with him wouldn't earn her any favors or make him trust her more than he already did(n't) - it was nothing more than an exercise in futility. Eventually, she would realize she was wasting her time and that this small exchange was all for naught.

Until then, Red Alert would have to go along with their little back and forth and try to remember how to fall into step with the ebb and flow of conversation.

"No. We're located in what amounts to the middle of nowhere - far from any major roads or populated, high-traffic areas. 'Little to no risk of accidental discovery,' supposedly."

At least that's what their liaison had told them, which Red Alert was more than a bit skeptical of judging by his sarcastic use of quotes.

Within a few moments they arrived at the control room, and as Javelin asked her next question Red Alert made his way to the main control console to log their departure time, intended destination, and estimated time of return.

His hand hovered briefly over the keypad after she spoke, unsure how to feel about her question and even less sure how to answer it. He decided to go about things as he always did, cautiously, and with a (relatively) healthy amount of trepidation.

"--Is that a problem?"

[Javelin]

Javelin nodded as she continued to follow, “From what I’ve learned about humans in my short time here, they have a habit of showing up when you least expect them. Extremely curious, inquisitive. Anything new in their surroundings tends to get them excited. I can imagine any new tire tracks or the like would cause some of them to start nosing around.”

Resting her hands on her hips, she half smiled, “Did you know there are hundreds of places on their “internet” devoted entirely to conspiracy theories about aliens? Reptilian overlords and things they call “The Greys”. It’s sort of funny, because here’s half of them thinking aliens are already on Earth, and the governments of Earth trying to keep us hidden because they think humans wouldn’t be able to accept us.”

Red Alert’s change in demeanour was noticeable. It wasn’t so much a shocking change, but it was noticeable all the same. A sort of tenseness. A sense of “And just why are you asking me that?”

Her gaze moving from where his hand was hovering over the console, up to meet his gaze openly, she gave a faint shrug, “Not for me. Seems a big job for one person, though you obviously seem to have a handle on it. I would have expected an assistant.”

From what she had heard about Red Alert since her arrival, she wasn’t surprised he worked alone. It was probably a case of no one wanted to work with him, and he didn’t want to work with anyone else. Sometimes, she felt the same way.

[Red Alert]

As far as answers went, Javelin went with what was likely the safest possible option. She had worded things in such a way that there really wasn't much to read into, though Red Alert was certain he would be able to find something if he tried - not that he wanted to, because contrary to popular belief he didn't actually enjoy delving down rabbit holes and making mountains out of molehills. It was just something that happened, something he did unconsciously, instinctively, even when he knew he was reaching or making egregious leaps in logic. It didn't matter that he knew he was reaching, that he was being irrational or twisting facts to suit theories instead of the inverse - that never made his irrational thoughts or gut instincts feel any less pressing, or real, or worthy of consideration.

The best he could do was try and avoid the rabbit holes, steer clear of molehills, and not let his train of thought get derailed by baseless assumptions. It was a strategy that worked well enough, when kept his interactions with others to an absolute minimum - the longer a conversation dragged on, the more likely it was he would hear or sense or imagine something that would get him worried or riled or going off on a thought journey that never lead anywhere constructive.

It was better to rush through all his interactions and keep conversations short than to give his mind the opportunity to sink its claws into the situation and completely twist the narrative.

"An assistant."

He scoffed, more at himself than Javelin's assumption.

"If I had anyone working under me they'd quit within the day or be micromanaged to death by the end of the week."

It was almost a joke, insofar as something just a step away from the truth can be considered a joke.

Once the coordinates were logged (and the screen refreshed to confirm the information was both correct and saved) Red Alert nodded towards the hangar which would lead them out of the base and into the dry Nevada air.

"Let's be off. We're about eight minutes out, six if we push the speed limit a wee bit."

As much as Red Alert valued road safety, the speed limit wasn't a hill he was going to die on, especially not one set by human standards, in accordance with human limitations. Human vehicles couldn't stop on a dime, and human drivers didn't have the reflexes required to maneuver and react while moving at speeds upwards of 120 miles per hour. Cybertronians, however, did, which made their traffic laws seem excessive even by Red Alert's standards.

"For obvious reasons, I'd rather we not be out and about any longer than is strictly necessary."

He added this over his shoulder, sparing Javelin one last glance before shifting from root to alt. He waited a few moments for Javelin to follow suit, idling in place at the mouth of the hangar before pulling forward and driving down the runway at a brisk but not unreasonable pace, confident that Javelin would either match his pace or catch up in her own time.