Logs:Up On The Roof

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Cast
Setting

One South Broad

Log

Darren Lynch: The evening sun was just setting on Philadelphia city streets. Though what could be seen of it through thick clouds of snow was hard to say. The grey simply got darker until it would turn black. The city was covered in a blanket of snow and below the skyline, cars had either already made their way home to avoid the mess or struggled slowly and down the icy trenches towards their destinations, as a winter storm warning was slipping into effect. The rooftop of One South Broad was thankfully covered, as it housed The Founder's Bell. A large 15 ton cast iron monstrosity that was over 9 feet tall. The building itself housed a number of different departments, mostly retail and restaurant spaces now. Getting roof access was usually impossible, but obviously the three of them individually knew a guy or had their ways.

Darren had been the first out, and unfortunately for the location of the bell it blocked all cell service so calling for aid was impossible, and as he'd been here for a dinner meeting, his lock picks weren't on him. Thankfully he'd dressed for the snow and currently wore a long black coat above a thick sweater and slacks. He was currently looking down over the ledge, the wind howling in his ears, mixed with the sounds of an angry city, ready for Spring to arrive below.


Cian Doyle: Sometimes, you just wanna see The Founder's Bell, and don't really care enough to go through the proper channels. That's what Obfuscate is for, right? At least, that's how Cian's got himself up to the roof this evening.

Intent on his target, he hasn't really thought about his exit - and he's clearly not expecting there to be someone else on the rooftop, when he opens the door.

And given that this discipline doesn't extend to places where no one expects him to be, he's in full view of the other man up here. He's dressed for the cold weather, too, in a wool peacoat and scarf that make him look a bit anachronistic, like he's stepped out of some period drama. He also he looks...rather pale and sickly, his blue eyes a little dull.

And surprised. Quite surprised to see another person up here.


Daniel Hawthorne: The visit had come from idle curiosity, intrigued by the history of the building and having a night off courtesy of his sister putting her foot down on such matters. Running into Cian had been a happy coincidence, and when the idea of seeing the bell up close and personal was mentioned Daniel had no issues joining him, wrapping himself in the same cloak of shadows as they headed upstairs.

The Haunt was dressed rather stylishly with the weather in mind, a dark blue scarf wrapped around his neck. The Blush kept him looking less sickly than his companion, but there was a sense that something was off about him, that itch in the back of Darren's mind couldn't shake.


Darren Lynch: Darren hadn't expected anyone else to be arriving. He'd only been out here a few minutes and before he started to worry, he was taking in the sights. He hadn't heard the door open given the wind, though the movement caught his eye after a moment. His own eyes were bright emerald green, a little too bright to be human, though maybe it was just a rare color. His jaw worked lightly as he looked over the other men and then back towards the door, pulling his coat closer and gliding closer to the door, "You wouldn't be able to unlock that again, would you?" his voice raised a bit over the wind. They could likely speak clearly if they moved behind the bell. His accent was thick and Irish, and now slightly irritated. He hated being cold.


Cian Doyle: "Ah -" the man blinks, startled at being directly addressed, and swallows, perhaps nervously. He also blushes - it's odd, how much that mild embarrassment makes him look...slightly more alive. Maybe just a trick of the low light, or the wind putting color in his cheeks.

"I'm afraid not, no..." he turns to the door just as it clicks shut, and winces. His accent may be Irish, it's a bit hard to tell with such little speaking, but if it is it's much lighter than Darren's. A man who's spent most of his formative years outside of Ireland, maybe.

"Daniel...can you, by any chance?" He turns to the more stylish man, and yep, his accent is definitely Irish. Difficult to place exactly where he's from, though.


Daniel Hawthorne: Daniel's eyebrow arched as Cian was addressed, a note of surprise in his features at someone else already being present. If it wasn't for the mortal's presence he could have zipped over to keep the door from closing, but the Masquerade was still a thing so he simply frowned and shook his head. "No, unfortunately." His response was whisper-soft, tinged with an almost-British accent.


Darren Lynch: Darren's attention slipped off their answer towards the door, "Well... fuck me," growling slightly and taking out his phone again to try for better signal. "S'locked. Unless the twos'a'you can climb over or get someone to open the door, here we are." His phone of course had no reception and he silently cursed himself for getting into the situation if only because now he couldn't go home and sleep. "Either of yous have a phone? Got reception?"


Cian Doyle: "...Ah." Another wince, and he digs in his pockets for his phone. "No service for me, either...what...are you doing up here...?" His eyebrow arches as he looks the man over.


Daniel Hawthorne: Daniel pulled his phone from his jacket pocket to check, the frown growing. "Nothing either." He pocketed it once again, looking towards Darren at the question posed.


Darren Lynch: He'd look between them with a small amount of hope until they both confirmed what he suspected. "Damn," he said, pocketing his own and looking back out towards the city. "Havin' a smoke. Bit of air. Seemed a decent enough place to do it." he said, looking back over them briefly, mostly on Cian for the moment and then them both once more. "And you?" pulling out another smoke since he were still here.


Cian Doyle: "Research," he gestures to the bell with a shrug. "It's a bit of a hobby of mine, the history in this town is nothing short of fascinating. It's...a bit windy for a cigarette, mm?" The slightest twitch of a smile crosses his lips.


Daniel Hawthorne: "It's a nice view, if anything...or would be, what with the weather and all." Daniel glanced towards the clouds briefly before looking back to the pair. "Hear the bell often enough during the day, why not see it up close?"


Darren Lynch: Darren nodded at Cian's point and moved around the bell, the back of it with the small hallway up against a small retainer wall provided a small reprieve from the wind, shielding them from the gusts but not the cold. He lit his cigarette and blew the smoke out of the corner of his poised lips as he looked over the others. If they didn't buy his excuse, he didn't seem to be completely sold on theirs either, but also didn't care much. "Well, you twos have a bit of time to get research in. No one knows I'm up 'ere." he said, though the idea of asking a spirit to do his bidding was an option. Not with these two here though, not discreetly anyways. He glanced back at the door, though it was out of eye sight from this spot, and considered how hard it would be to break the lock.


Cian Doyle: "It should give you more than enough time for a cigarette or two, I don't believe anyone knows we're up here, either." Cian gives Darren a slightly apologetic smile and moves closer to the bell. "Though I don't know that any of us want to be up here when it rings, we'll all go at the very least temporarily deaf."


Daniel Hawthorne: "My sister knows I'm at the building, at least." Daniel added with a wry smirk, eyeing the bell at Cian's comment with a wince at the thought of what being this close would be like with his own keen senses. "Most definitely..."


Darren Lynch: Darren looked up to the bell on an inhale, thinking of what he'd owe Lola for that sort of repair and sighed. "Well aren't we in situation." he said as smoke plumed out between the words and was carried off by the breeze. "Funny evening to be choosing to research a bell. What does comin' up 'ere tell you aside from what Wikipedia might?"


Cian Doyle: "There's something about getting to see artifacts personally, isn't there?" Cian glances at Darren before continuing to examine the hulking metal bell. Not touching it, but getting pretty damn close. He pulls a pad of paper and a pencil from a pocket to jot down some notes. Old school, clearly - wouldn't something like that be easier on his phone?


Daniel Hawthorne: Daniel went the more modern route that Cian had eschewed, taking some pictures of the bell up close while the other man worked. As he started to put the phone back he paused, smirking a touch to himself before he flipped it around to take a proper selfie with the behemoth behind him, his smiling face clear as crystal on the screen. With that bit of millennial frivolity handled he slid the phone back into his pocket, looking back towards Darren. "Daniel, by the way."


Darren Lynch: Darren watched the other two as they went about their work, his eyes lifting away from the bell at the introduction. "Darren Lynch," he said softly, though still loud enough to be heard over the gusts. He glanced back over to the door, ready to go take another go at getting it open.


Cian Doyle: Cian looks around from the bell to the unfamiliar man, and nods. "Cian. Doyle." He pronounces it 'key-an', as it should be.

"Would you believe me if I said I've been here over a year now, and I've yet to meet another Irishman? I don't know how," he huffs in amusement, and follows Darren's gaze to the door. "Any bright ideas for how to open it?"


Daniel Hawthorne: "Hawthorne, if we're giving full names." Daniel allowed himself a small smirk, the thought of his former covenant-mates and the fit they likely would have thrown at such ignoble informality rather amusing indeed. "Don't have anything that would help with jimmying it open, unfortunately..."


Darren Lynch: "You're not visitin' the right neighborhoods," Darren smirked gently and looked back to Cian, and then to the door. "Come on down to Kensington. We give away a fourth Irishman free if you pay cash for the first three." Appraising the door. "I'd shoot the damn lock but it's a push bar and that's not goin' to disturb the mechanism. Not with a hand gun." He looked back at the two of them. (Neither have any ghosts/spirits around them in twilight for any reason?)


Cian Doyle: "I'm rather content to stay in Society Hill, when I'm not poking about Center City." Because of course this anachronistic man lives in one of the very posh historical neighborhoods.

And yet, the comment about having a hand gun barely makes him blink. "I've got a pen, but I'm not sure that will do us any good...?" Despite his doubts, he looks hopeful, as if somehow this gun-toting man will be able to fashion a key or a lockpick out of a ballpoint pen.


Daniel Hawthorne: "Nothing wrong with ranging out a bit more, Cian. There's a lot of the city to see." Daniel looked towards the Gangrel with a small chuckle before eyeing the door once again, the fact that Darren was armed not phasing him much either. "Hmm..."


Darren Lynch: "Oh I see," he said, as he squatted to inspect the door, "When you said you hadn't run into any, yous meant you weren't lookin." his tone amused but not quite offended. Or perhaps not mad over it. "Let me see your pen? I'm not crafty but I might be able to make do."


Daniel Hawthorne: Daniel moved near the door to stay in conversation range, watching as Darren started looking it over. "Repair work I can do, not so much with this sort of thing."


Darren Lynch: Darren pulled out a set of keys and held up a tiny hex key. "We'd jus' use this if we were on the opposite side, easy." he said then, finally pulling out a knife from his ankle and seeing what he was able to do to get back inside. "You and him both up here to really look at a bell?"


Daniel Hawthorne: Daniel eyed the blade briefly as it was drawn before looking back to Darren himself and giving a nod. "We were, yes, odd as it may sound. Intellectual curiosity and all that."


Darren Lynch: Assuming he'd never see the men again Darren didn't really care to be discreet. He wanted off this rooftop. He worked the door and while he seemed to be making some progress, it wasn't enough yet. "So you're both into 'istory then? Is that the work you do?"


Daniel Hawthorne: "I'm a clothing designer by trade but I do have a passing interest in history, yes, if only from being surrounded by it while I was growing up."


Darren Lynch: "Mmm, and where's that accent from then? Certainly not Philadelphia.." he looked back briefly.


Daniel Hawthorne: "Boston. My family's been there in some form since before the Revolutionary War."


Cian Doyle: Cian hands over his pen, a little belatedly, and agrees with Daniel's assertion that they are, really, just that nerdy about history.

"I'm a historical interpreter and researcher - currently onboard the USS United States as part of their crew. Well - not currently, as is obvious," he chuckles, "but I live and breathe history, as it were."


Darren Lynch: He looked back at them and between them before nodding, "Fair enough." Taking the pen, he wasn't sure if he could do much with it. There was no lock to pick really. He'd use it in parallel with his knife and eventually made a little more progress. The door was moving now, but not quite opening.


Daniel Hawthorne: "What brought you up here, out of curiosity? Business in the building, or something else?" Daniel took a moment to adjust his jacket as he spoke, the cold winds having some impact on the Blushed Haunt.


Cian Doyle: Cian doesn't quite peer over Darren's shoulder as he works, though it's a close thing. The man seems fascinated by the work.

"A cigarette, he said," he turns to Daniel with a smirk. "But that leaves a little bit unsaid, mm?"


Darren Lynch: Darren on the other hand wasn't doing so well in the cold. After about 30 minutes in temperatures this low one could easily get hypothermia. He was dressed warmly but not for long outdoor exposure. After a few minutes of each go at the door, he'd stop and rub his hands together to get blood flowing again. "Business meeting downstairs. Then up here for a smoke. But fuck if I'm dying a frost bite on top of this fuckin' building," he said, going back to the work with a bit of gusto. Using the knife to pry at the door and the pen to push the lock back so they could pull the door back open. FINALLY, it popped back out and swung open a few inches. Darren immediately put his foot in place to stop it from closing again. His knife was bent and the pen was cracked, but the door was open. (6 successes!)


Daniel Hawthorne: Daniel nodded, taking that answer for what it was as he watched Darren at work, rather intrigued himself. He grinned as the door was finally unlocked, moving to give enough room for it to swing open fully. "Nicely done."


Cian Doyle: "Oh well done - keep the pen, if you'd like," Cian says with a smile. "And - mm. I'd buy us all drinks for your troubles, but that's not going to do much for hypothermia..."


Darren Lynch: Darren stood holding the door and his knife. "You two hardly look bothered. I'm going to the bar to get a drink. If you'd like to buy it well... I'd let you." he said, though he seemed to be headed that way in either case, moving inside to warm up. He'd slide his knife back into his boot. "Note to self, do not go out on roof tops you don't have keys to. Sorted." His ears were pink and his skin looked a bit pale but he was quick to warm back up.


Daniel Hawthorne: The cold was impacting Daniel more than Cian, if anything, and the Haunt was quick to follow Darren inside. "I don't have anywhere else I need to be at the moment. You?" The last was said to Cian, an eyebrow arched curiously.


Cian Doyle: "This was all I had on my agenda this evening. Darren, do you have a preference as to which bar...? One withing walking distance, I'd hope..."


Darren Lynch: "Time's right around the corner," he said, speaking of a high end whiskey bar and tap house. "If it serves the two a you." He'd head to the stair well, moving quickly. His phone out trying to get a text out as he went.


Daniel Hawthorne: Daniel continued down the stairs behind Darren, keeping an even pace along the way. "Works for me."


Cian Doyle: Cian opens his mouth to say something, changes his mind, and closes it again with a nod, bringing up the rear of the group as they made their way down the stairs and through the building.

"What sort of business do you do, Darren?" He asks once they're near the bottom floor.


Darren Lynch: Darren stepped out, holding the door for them, "Bit a this an' that." keeping things vague with a tone that said that's all they were going to get. The snow outside was already thick and most people were heading home. Thankfully the OPEN sign of the bar still glowed in the distant window. The place was less than a block away. Darren didn't look too pleased to already be back in the cold but he was thankful they were readily keeping up. "What part of Ireland are you from? Can find a Doyle by throwin' a rock."


Daniel Hawthorne: Darren earned a curious look for the rather vague answer but Daniel didn't press the matter, simply giving a nod. He made a point of not looking at Cian at the question sent his way, adjusting his jacket against the chill as they headed towards the bar.


Cian Doyle: "Family's from Oranmore, outside Galway. I haven't visited in...mm. Quite some time," he admits. "And you?" He looks out into the snow with a grimace, and pops the collar on his coat, burrowing down into his scarf.


Darren Lynch: "Dundalk, when we was in a town," he said simply. He doesn't seem to notice at all if Cian is keepin secrets, though he seems the type of man to appreciate them. He doesn't talk much on the way to bar, and when he arrives, he holds the door once again and finally settles in over at a large booth and nods to the bartender. Perhaps he was a regular here. The place was popular on a normal occasion, but tonight, given the snow they almost had the place to themselves. Dark wood interiors met with grey faux leathers and yellowy pendant lights. The place was charming but intentionally so. It was only put up within the last year. There was no age and memory to speak of. The bartender who was surely not paid enough to be staying open this late came over with a glass for Darren and took the other mens orders as they settled in.


Daniel Hawthorne: The lack of a crowd was something of a blessing for the Haunt, both due to having fewer people to talk over and to prevent the inevitable clearing of the room as his presence permeated it. Daniel took a moment to remove his coat once they were inside and setting it down beside him as they settled in at the booth, keeping the scarf in place. After scanning the wall behind the bar for the selection he ordered a glass of the Laphroaig 10-year, giving the server a polite smile before they headed off.


Cian Doyle: "You traveled a lot, then?" Cian cocks his head at Darren as he settles in, and orders some forgettable whisky or other (because his player doesn't know anything about it and i'm too tired to look anything up :P) and makes it clear he's paying for the first round.


Darren Lynch: Without the cold and the desire for whiskey to distract him, Darren takes his first sip and then seems to regard Daniel a bit more. As if there were some hidden danger he hadn't quite picked up on. He didn't like to underestimate people, and gave the man new regard as he answered Cian, "Ireland, Europe a bit. Jus' came here not too long ago." His head finally swiveling back to the other Irishman,


Daniel Hawthorne: Daniel caught the look but said nothing for the moment, content to listen to the pair as they talked.


Cian Doyle: "Ah." Cian nods and takes a small sip of his whisky. "I was in Boston, before this. We met there," he gestures with his head at Daniel. "And met back up again here, unexpectedly."


Darren Lynch: "A clothing designer and a historical researcher." Darren looked at the both of them for a moment, "How'd you two meet then?" he'd ask taking another healthy drink off his glass.


Daniel Hawthorne: Daniel sat back in his seat, having to think on that for a moment. "It was a party that my previous employer's boss was hosting, if I remember right. Saw each other a few times at similar gatherings but didn't stay in touch when I left a few years back to come here, so running into him again was a pleasant surprise."


Cian Doyle: Another nod in Daniel's direction and he takes another sip. Maybe that's safer than talking, who knows? "Our work overlapped occasionally - not so much here, though, mm?"


Darren Lynch: Darren nodded, looking from one to the other, "Ah, so it was a date I interrupted?"


Daniel Hawthorne: "Not so much, no. Although if your company needs any costuming work done you know where to come to." Daniel replied with a small smirk. Darren's question caught him off-guard, however, with the Haunt shaking his head after the surprise faded out. "We're not in a relationship like that, no."


Cian Doyle: "I - no, it really wasn't," Cian blinks in surprise and mirrors Daniel's head shake with a slight smile. "Which isn't to say that I wouldn't take someone on a research trip as a date, but...not with you, sorry," he says to Daniel. "If I can get a word with the costume department I'll drop your name, I don't actually know how much is done in-house..."


Darren Lynch: He'd nod, accepting their answer. "When you say over lap, ... this for consulting on plays or those reenactments or..?"


Daniel Hawthorne: "For the most part, yeah. Lot of research work on different projects, that sort of thing."


Cian Doyle: Cian gestures in agreement. "I did more research, less reenactment, then. Though I'd say I still do about the same amount of research at this point..." he shakes his head and takes a drink.


Darren Lynch: "That sounds like a good job to me," he said, leaning forward over his drink. "I'm sure there's plenty more to it, but gettin' paid to tell someone they're using the wrong buttons on a uniform or somethin'. You've made good choices there Cian." His gaze swapped over to Daniel. "You design for anyone, anyone would know?" Wondering if his work could be seen somewhere. Darren was usually not a man for small talk, but tonight it beat going back out into the cold. And a reprieve from the stresses as of late was welcome.


Daniel Hawthorne: "No one too big...yet, at least." Daniel added with a small smirk, taking his phone from his jacket and pulling up the website for the design studio before offering it to Darren. "We do all of the work in-house, and take custom commissions as well."


Cian Doyle: "That's the basics of it, mm," Cian says with a small smile. "Currently I'm working on expanding the diversity of scripts we have, and characters we play. It's...a rather thankless task, though it would be much worse if my bosses didn't agree it needed to be done."


Darren Lynch: He took the phone to look it over, a raised brow. "Half a this'll be lost on me, forewarned." As he browsed through the phone he'd listen to Cian and nod. "What's got you so into history then? What's that do for you?"


Daniel Hawthorne: "No worries. Happy to answer any questions you may have." Daniel finally got around to taking a sip of his drink, letting Cian field the question at hand.


Cian Doyle: "I love how human it is, how people have always been...people. Finding those little bits of humanity tucked away in the margins of a book, or in diaries, or carved into wood and stone, if we want to go even earlier. And there's the whole school of thought about not dooming us to repeat the mistakes of the past, but. It's the people, for me."


Darren Lynch: He looked over the phone, though it was clear his attention was split before her handed it back to Daniel. He had no questions about fashion, he simply didn't know or care enough about it to have it in his life much. "How human it is? As opposed to what? Study a humans is going to be pretty human, no? You searching for the romance of people? Trying to see if we're not all bastards?"


Daniel Hawthorne: Daniel nodded and took the phone back, putting it away in his jacket pocket as the pair talked. He remained quiet for the moment, both to give his voice a break and to let Cian answer. (talk around me for a bit, will chime in when needed)


Cian Doyle: "It's easy to make the past into some monolith of 'oh we're not like that anymore', for better or for worse depending on who you might be talking to, and there's sometimes an interest in...separating our modern conventions with historical ones in the name of progress. It makes people forget, sometimes, that the past is human, it's not just events and dates and names of important people." He takes a drink, and shrugs. "Whether or not we're all bastards...remains to be seen." Darren gets a small grin at that.


Darren Lynch: He shook his head gently, "Oh I think we are. Base a things we all still 'ave the same wants. Desires. We'll still stoop to the same lows to get them. Don' get me wrong, there're a few people who walk this earth and I swear they're not meant to be here. Better'n'all the rest of us combined. But the majority of us..." he shrugged. "I don't have the faith in them you seem to."


Cian Doyle: Cian drains the rest of his whiskey with a slight grimace. "Bastards or not, there's a beauty in knowing we've always been the way we are. That we took care of our sick, that we took care of our children. Better than we do now, in some ways. I mmm - I do have another engagement this evening, it's managed to slip my mind until now. It was lovely to meet you Darren - perhaps I'll make the journey up to Kensington someday soon." He smiles and stands. "I'll see you around." It's said to both of them, as he grabs his coat and makes his way toward the bar to pay the tab.


Darren Lynch: Darren leaned back, smirking at the idea of him in Kengington, "Sure," he said as if he didn't quite believe it. "Be good," he said returning to his glass.


Daniel Hawthorne: "Have a good night." Daniel lifted his glass to Cian as he moved to head out, taking a sip before setting it down once again and looking towards Darren. "Been a somewhat more exciting evening than I expected, I'll admit. Thanks for getting us out of there; being stuck overnight would not have been a good thing in the slightest."


Darren Lynch: He looked back to Daniel then, regarding the man fully now as his attention wasn't split. "You'd be dead overnight up there. Winds and cold like that? If not that, you'd at least have frost bite." he pointed out. "You said you 'ad a sister that knew you were there?" clearly a man who focused on little details offered. "She think to look for you on the roof? If only for that bell maybe."


Daniel Hawthorne: Daniel nodded in agreement, although of course for him there were other dangers involved as well... "I did, yes, and she likely would. She knew I was going there to check out the building after doing some digging into the history of it."


Darren Lynch: "What were you diggin for?" he wondered. "A project of yours?


Daniel Hawthorne: "More idle curiosity than anything. The lower floors of the building used to house one of the first men's department stores in the country, and that came up while looking into the sartorial history of the city."


Darren Lynch: He'd nod. "Do you have a specialty in these designs you do? Men? Women?" an idea forming.


Daniel Hawthorne: "We cove the full spectrum in that case, and in a number of styles besides. Have something in mind?"


Darren Lynch: He shook his head. "We all have that one person we love to spoil, hmm? You 'ave a card? I can take?"


Daniel Hawthorne: "Ah...I see." He smiled quietly at that, giving a nod as he took a slim card case from his pocket and offered one of the cards for the studio to the other man. "The number on the back is my cell phone if you want to reach me directly. Text works better more often than not."


Darren Lynch: “Mmm,” he nodded taking the card and looking it over before pocketing it. He didn’t have a fancy case to put it in, just his pocket along with his wallet on the inside of his coat. “I’ll want the best. She deserves it.” He informed, perhaps stating he’d be using his personal line unless he pointed out otherwise.


Daniel Hawthorne: "And she'll get it." His own tone was resolute, the Haunt meaning every word of it. "I don't put out work that I'm not proud of."


Darren Lynch: There was something about Daniel that Darren couldn’t quite put his finger on. It made him hesitant to leave even if the Haunt’s aura silently urged it. He made no show of hiding it either. “Good.” He’d slide his whiskey glass away, empty now. “I’d give you my number in return but I can’t sees how you’d ever need to call.”


Daniel Hawthorne: It was certainly noticed, but the fact that Darren was attempting to push through the unease rather than running off at the first available moment was heartening in a way. "Can still take it if you like, if only to pass it on to Cian to remind him to check in on his countryman after all." He had a small smirk on the face at the end. "Up to you."


Darren Lynch: “I’ll text you.” Patting his card in his jacket pocket. “Best be on my way then.” He’d scoot out of the booth and rise to his full 6’4 frame, leaning slightly to knock on the table twice with his knuckles. “Be good.”

The bartender was left a nice cash tip and a short while later Daniel got a text from an new number, that just read “-DL”.