Can't Leave You Alone For Two Seconds


griffin_icon.gif nadira_icon.gif reynold_icon.gif

Scene Title Can't Leave You Alone For Two Seconds
Synopsis Nadira finds someone she didn't expect to see in New York, Reynold plays father, and Griffin visits the green fairy.
Date September 29, 2010

The Stop

An older building houses this bar/hotel mix, and upon entering the first things one notices is that the atmosphere isn't what would normally be expected. Entering pushing open a thick metal door, an almost fine establishment feeling starts to overcome the senses with a light cherry colored oak floor, and soft amber colored walls. A large mahogany bar rests in the left corner, with many different types of liquior resting upon its shelves. Towards the right corner of the bar sit a couple of pinball machines, a dart game, and a SNK 10-in-1 cabinet that seems ready for its daily quarter harvest. A few booths line the left wall, and decently spaced tables with four chairs apiece come out towards the center of the establishment. On the right sits two large pool tables, with racks of varying sized cues lining them. Directly across from the door sits a rounded staircase leading to the upper level.

The Stop, home to as many variations of liquior as there are cars in the United States, and with a skilled enough bartender to combine them in ways that only can be seen in parts less visited across the ocean. Standing behind the bar with a lit cigarette between his lips is Reynold, who seems to be wiping out a glass with a rag. The sign on the door reads "Bar Closed, Hotel Open", which hangs next to a "HELP WANTED" sign. He sets the glass down on the counter, only to glance at all of the chairs still on their tables, signafying all of the work he still has to go through to get ready for the first wave of morning alcoholics.

Most of the bars and nightclubs in New York had been scoped out by Nadira when she was originally looking for an employer. There were tons to hit up, and she'd crossed out the ones not worth checking out, but one place she hadn't ventured into was The Stop, mostly because it was closed at the time. As she passes, she notices the sign advertising for help as well as the fact that it had a hotel attached. Well, that was clever. Pulling the door open, Nadira steps inside, peering around before her gaze stops on the figure behind the bar.

The cigarette is quickly put out in an ashtray on the bartop. Reynold quickly turns to place the glass onto a shelf in the back of the bar, doing a quick visual inventory of his stock. "We're closed for drinks, unless you're lookin' for a room. If thats the case, 25 dollars a night, and if you're planning having visitors, there's a Super 8 a few miles up the road." He drops down and picks up a small green bottle, only to pull the stopper and take a small sip from the bottle. He waits a few seconds before putting the stopper back on the bottle and turning to spit in the sink under the bar. "I still don't see why people like that shit…"

"I wasn't particularly interested in getting drinks, Old Man." The Egyptian woman states, taking a few steps further inside, taking in all the details. Nadira smirks. "Not bad. Seems like the kind of place that would get quite a few regulars… kinda like in Cairo." She folds her arms over her chest and just looks at him.

"Its not meant to pull in all the money in the world. Its meant to be a safehaven, Young One." Reynold immediatly starts speaking in Arabic as Nadira glances around the bar. He immediatly knows the voice and face, and doesn't bother trying to shoo her away, or threaten her in any form. He once again starts speaking in english as he lifts the cigarette from the ashtray, and relights it. "It pulls in a decent crowd of course. A lot of mystery surrounding the bar thats been closed since it opened a few years ago."

There's a grin as Nadira moves towards the bar itself, running a hand along its surface. "You like mystery. It suits you. Guess I learned well." She comments, though the last bit seems to be more to herself than anything. "I thought you'd turn up somewhere, but I really didn't expect to run into you."

"Mystery is over-rated. You should have learned that by now." Reynold shrugs his shoulders as he turns around and glances at the bottles once more. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small notepad. He flips a few pages and stops, then glances once more at the shelves. "Sunovabitch.." He pulls down a bottle of one of the more high-end spirits, glancing at it. He looks at the notepad once more, then opens the bottle. "That motherfucker in room 2.. He thought I couldn't tell that a nearly full bottle of one of my more expensive liquiors is now left with barely a quarter of a bottle?" He sets the bottle back on the shelf, and flips a few pages, only to grab a pen and start jotting things down. "And that now brings his bill up from 25 bucks, to a grand total of 395 dollars. I'll bet he's going to really regret using a credit card to pay for the room now."

"Yeah, but it's only overrated until you've seen though it, and by then it's too late." Nadira smirks a bit. "Why do you think I make good tips?" She leans against the bar. "He messed with the wrong guy." She notes with a wry smile. "They learn quick if they stick around. I don't think he'll stick around."

"So? I don't care if he does or doesn't." Reynold places the bottle back onto the shelf and pockets the notepad. "And you get tips as well as you do only because you bat your lashes, and smile sweetly at the customers. Where as I got my tips because they know my drinks are top notch." Reynold grins slightly before looking at the door. "So, what brings you here? You're not looking for a job again, are you? I don't know if I could bring myself to hire you, again."

"Ass. You know my drinks are top notch. At least my customers get a bit of eye candy while they have their drink. Although I suppose you must look better after a couple." Nadira peers around the bar a little. "Honestly, didn't know you were here. I thought I'd check it out. I've got a job at a club where they'd appreciate a pretty bartender with dark hair and dark eyes. They like a bit of mystery."

"You must mean Tartarus. You and I both know the place is a dive." Reynold gestures around him, "And this place has class. Not many other bars have rooms for rent for when people get far to hammered to go home safely." He leans on the bar and stares directly at Nadira. "How much do you get a night at Tartarus?"

Nadira glares. "Hey. There is nothing wrong with Tartarus. I can dress dark and mysterious, the people there are good people and I can trust them. Plus we're having a ball. Costumes and everything, based off of the movie The Labyrinth." She folds her arms. "Does it matter how much I'm paid? I don't do it for the money. Don't need the money. I'm covered."

"And yet, you know that in our line of work, there's things that have to remain unsaid. How much?" Reynold narrows his eyes, staring directly into Nadira's eyes as he obviously isn't joking around anymore about this and is totally serious.

"Money's negligible. It's not a factor." Nadira states. "I do it because I enjoy it. I picked Tartarus. I chose where I wanted to work. I walked in, told them I wanted to work there, and did." She looks at him seriously. "You want me to work for you that badly? I can split my time, if you want. I'd consider that."

"What I need is someone working solely for me. Especially when I have to leave town for extended periods of time. Its essential that The Stop stays open at all times. I can't stress that enough. If you can't do that, then I need someone who can. There's been a lot of changes since you last saw me, Ayill. A LOT. Our trade isn't as easy as it was only a few years back." Reynold glances at the ashtray and places the cigarette into it once more, this time fully putting it out. He places the ashtray beneath the bar and walks out from behind it to start pulling the chairs from off the tables.

Nadira moves to help with the chairs. Old habits die hard. "You aren't the only one who's changed." She shrugs a little. "I don't know that I could just give up Tartarus, regardless of… well, this." She glances around for a moment. "It's a bit of a home, and I've needed that since I've been here. There are few people I can trust, that I can feel at home with. So those I find, I stick with."

"Then its someone else I need Ayill." Reynold grabs two chairs at once, setting them both on the floor, before starting to speak completely in Arabic. "I need someone who can keep a secret, and make sure that I know when the heat is starting to be placed on me. I don't trust my 'colleagues' at all. Except for one, and thats only because I've had to. Noah helped me when I needed it, and I'm still helping him to repay it." He glances at Nadira, shaking his head slight. "There will be times when I have to leave the country for extended periods of time again. Just like Egypt. Its all for those who are evolved."

He really wasn't coming to look for Nadira today. He also really didn't intend to come in at such a moment, interrupting what could possibly be an important conversation. Any response from Nadira is briefly cut off by the jingle of the door as it swings open and closed to reveal a tall, slightly lanky man. He's dressed to impress, it seems, a crisp grey business suit and a black tie over a pink shirt. Whoever said men couldn't pull off pink has never met Griffin Mihangle. His hands are slightly full; in one hand, he carries an oversized cello case, worn from age. In the other, he uses a cane of black wood, with a silver handle, to walk, limping visibly thanks to the earlier rains.

Green eyes trail around the bar, halting on Nadira's form as she and the older man talks. He pauses there in the doorway for a moment, staring, before he makes his way further in. "Nadira," he murmurs in a soft tone, that warn smile forming across his face once more. "I promise I'm not stalking you, you just seem to always be where I am…" He chuckles softly, before turning a glance toward Reynold.

Nadira turns sharply at the sound of the door. Of all the moments to come in, that one was most poignant. She could have almost visibly jumped, but the Egyptian woman keeps her cool, as always, as she looks towards the door. There's the briefest hint of a smile. "Don't worry, I know where you live, just in case you turn out to be." She turns back to Reynold with a slight sigh, chancing a small reply in Arabic. She doesn't, after all, want to be rude and talk in another language in front of Griffin. "«I don't like not being able to help you. I wanted a life though.»" Another small sigh. "«But considering I don't have much of it, I'll do what I can. I'll just work doubles so I can be at Tartarus too.»"

"We still closed, unless you want a room. Then its 25 bucks." Reynold simply states this as the door opens and someone walks in, not even bothering to turn around. "«It's all right. I was messing with you about the full time. Part time is okay. However, I will need someone still when I have to leave town.»"

Griffin smiles to Nadira as he reaches her side, briefly touching his fingertips to the small of her back with a fond expression on his face. However, he lowers his hand toward Reynold, his brows arching. "I was just here to get a drink, actually." And then, he's helping Nadira put the chairs down from their tables. He could probably get them all in less than ten seconds, but…today is different from yesterday.

Griffin peers intently on Reynold, his brows arching, before he glances back toward Nardira. "I certainly wasn't expecting to run into such a beautiful woman as Nadira here."

"Yes, and from the look on my daughters face, I'm going to have to assume that you're a bit of a thorn in her side. That's okay. I just so happen to have a Gardening license as well. If you'll stay right there, I can go and get my shears." Reynold glances at Griffin, a slight frown starting to grow on his face as he starts to reach into his pockets, digging around. "Not just that, I'm sure you could use a bit of a trim too."

Nadira's eyes widen just slightly, letting them flicker back towards Griffin, then to Reynold. She inhales deeply. "Gidd," she hisses. "He's a friend. He helped me out of a bad spot. I could have been in a lot of trouble and he kept me safe." She blatantly keeps her language English. "He's no one bad."

As Reynold begins frown, Griffin promptly clears his throat; once the cello case is set down, his hand unconciously flits to the tie, straightening it. Well, unexpected parental meeting, and he's not even dating Nadira yet! "I wouldn't say a thorn in her side, sir." He offers a somewhat sheepish smile, despite the fact that Reynold is digging in his pockets for something or other that is ominous. Griffin is not an easy man to intimidate. A faint smile is offered as Nadira gives an explanation, the man nodding slowly.

"Ayill, its quite all right. I won't take too much off. I mean, It is difficult to walk without feet, or so I hear…" Reynold pulls out a green rag from his pocket, which he then starts using to wipe down the table, allowing himself to speak with a full accent as if he truly were from Egypt. "You always did pick up the strangest ones.. Your dear mother always said that I should be accepting.. but.. a man who walks around with an instrument? I have to disapprove on that one." He clears his throat, as he once more starts to speak in Arabic. "«Its fun to watch them squirm.»"

"Do you know if you lose just your big toes that you'll entirely have to relearn your sense of balance from scratch?" Nadira comments, though it's more an observation than a question. She looks back to Reynold with a small shake of her head. "He's quite good. You should hear him play piano." A pause. Then the Egyptian woman is grinning. "You're talking about how classy this place is… you could always use a piano player. He plays nearly any instrument, too." Then there's the Arabic. "«You have too much fun with this sort of thing. Be careful. He's sweet. Don't hurt him.»"

Griffin raises his brows, peering quietly at Reynold for a long moment. "Well, sir, my apologies if you find my love for music unworthy of your daughter. If it makes you feel any better in the slightest, I use my music to serenade Nadira." He smiles faintly, kneeling down to open the case, revealing a cello and a violin. A smile is offered up to the Egyptian woman.

"She is quite correct, sir. I have extensive knowledge of all instruments, thanks to my bachelor's degree in Music Education." He taps his temple, smiling faintly. "If you would like a pianist for this establishment, I would happily fill the role for you. My only request is that you please not remove any appendages. I have a ten year old son, and I need my limbs to remain in tact if at all possible, for his sake." He smiles faintly, running his fingers over the smooth surface of the cello with a fond expression on his features.

It's not easy to make Griffin squirm, either.

"No no no no. I couldn't! I mean, we barely make ends meet as it is now! I couldn't afford to pay for a musician. Especially with the way the economy is now!" The thick accent Reynold is giving off makes for a rather comidic thing, if it weren't for the fact he was acting dead serious. "No no. See? It's quite all right. My dear Ayill isn't even capable of enjoying the act of sex. It was something that the elders insisted on. A ghastly thing. So there's no point on persuing my daughter! Yes. What is it you say Ayill? Pointless? Yes. Its pointless!" He furiously starts wiping down the table, as if he were expecting for it to have some magical spot that over enthusiastic cleaning will solve.

If it were not so serious, the whole display would be ridiculous. A pretty Egyptian woman, a big black bartender, and a white musician walk into a bar… and you don't want to know the end to that joke. There's color in Nadira's cheeks, and as she lifts a chair down from the table it actually looks, for a split second, like she might throw it at the man across the room.

"Oh, yes, pursuing me is terribly pointless, as the whole point in these things is solely for the purpose of sex."

Griffin's brows raise at Reynold's remarks; after a moment, he offers a faint chuckle, turning a glance to Nadira. Then, he turns back toward Reynold, chuckling. "Well, that's a rather fascinating fact to know. I suppose, then, that it is a very good thing that I am after Nadira's companionship, as opposed to a single-minded quest to get into her pants." He chuckles faintly, helping Nadira take down the chairs.

"Which reminds me Ayill. Your Abi Basir phoned a few days back. He said he's planning on coming to visit us soon." Reynold seems to be generally excited by this, as he goes about wiping down the tables. He glances at a clock hanging on the far wall. "Yes, good, good. With this we should be ready to open. Then it will be a busy day! Room three needs to have its linens changed. If you can, grab me a fresh set from room five?"

Nadira abruptly sits down in the chair she was taking down from the table, landing with a bit of a thump in it. "You… talked to him?" She's suddenly very serious. "Is he okay? He's…" She falls into a silence, just staring at Reynold.

"Ayill, those sheets won't change themselves. Especially if you don't go and get them. I can't leave you alone down here with this man, can I? Go on child, go. Move." Reynold makes shooing motions at Nadira, as he glances at Griffin. "So, you are looking for work too? If you can turn your eyes from my Ayill, I could give you work, I suppose, yes?" He stops wiping down the table, only to stroke his chin. "Back home, I suppose that Ayill would be right. A musician could bring extra business. Yes."

Griffin blinks a few times, glancing down toward Nadira with a faing smile. A hand reaches out to gently touch her shoulder, before he turns that faint smile toward the man, chuckling. "I suppose I am looking for work. I have certain criteria that I must fill when I have the funds, so my son will have a good life." He turns a fain smile down toward Nadira. "I don't quite believe I can turn my eyes from her. She's quite beautiful, and she has been kind where others would not." He cants his head in Reynold's direction, smiling.

The Egyptian woman's hand reaches up to land on Griffin's when he touches her shoulder, and she squeezes it for a moment before she slowly gets to her feet. It's clear she's not sure how to take leaving Reynold and Griffin alone in a room together, but she begrudgingly gets to her feet and moves towards the stairs. She peers at Reynold a last time before speaking in Arabic. "«I said don't hurt him»". She promptly disappears up the stairs.

"«I won't break anything.» Reynold smiles happily at Nadira as she makes her way upstairs. "Now, certain criteria? Hmm.. Well.. I suppose. Yes. Return in a day or so, and I will interview you. We can discuss pay. I don't have the money to offer benefits however. The economy is far to harsh…"

Griffin smiles to the man, apparently unphased by being alone in the same room as Reynold. He smiles faintly after Nadira, squeezing her hand in return, before letting her run up toward the rooms. His eyes turn toward Reynold, then, that small, calm smile still planted across his features. "Certain criteria, yes. I need to ensure my boy has a good roof over his head, after all." He tilts his head to one side, smiling. "I suppose that sounds to be a spectacular plan, sir. I expect no benefits, I simply need a job. I can bounce for you, or I can be your musician."

"Bounce? Why would you bounce? I asked for music." Reynold seems to be rather confused by Griffin's offer to bounce. Then again, he's just leading the poor man on with this act. "Of course, I must finish getting the bar ready for business. It's a good deal more trouble then one would expect. Lots of work.. Yes. Yes." He then makes his way over to Griffin, extending his right hand out towards the man for a handshake. "We shake on it, yes?"

The man smiles softly, a soft chuckle making its way from his throat. "Then music you shall recieve, sir. I'd be happy to assist you in any way possible." Griffin nods quietly. As Reynold offers a hand, Griffin's brows raise. Tentatively, he reaches out to offer Reynold a nice, firm handshake, that unflappable smile still settled across his face.

An energetic and tight smile is given in return, as Reynold enthusiastically starts shaking Griffin's hand. The grip however, is tight enough to hurt, but still seem like its a truly enthusiastic shake. He then quickly releases the poor mans hand and rushes over to the bar, pulling out a small green bottle from beneath the counter. "A toast then, yes? On the house! Come, come! Ayill doesn't like when I sneak a little bit from the stock." He quickly pulls down two shot glasses and fills them half-way with the liquid from the bottle.

To his credit, Griffin manages to keep his reaction to the painful handshake to little more than a slight flinch. As Reynold releases his hand, he shakes it out, frowning down at it. However, he's a good sport, following Reynold to the bar with raised eyebrows. The shot glasses are offered a faintly skeptical look as he reaches for his, raising it to his nose and taking a quick sniff at it to identify its contents. "Absinthe, yes?" He raises the glass toward Reynold, smiling.

There's the sound of footsteps on the stairs as Nadira returns with a heavy sigh. "Sheets are done," she mutters, barely a glance in the direction of the two, at first. The Arabic retort comes shortly after, "«I will help you. You have made your point»". Of course, now she's noticed they moved. And they're having drinks. "Gidd. I cannot leave you alone for a second…"

"Yes! Its actually a house make. We don't sell it, but use it on special requests. Come, only the best!" He raises the second shotglass up, smiling brightly at Griffin, and once Nadira comes down, a slight grin crosses his face. "To future endevours, drink up my friend! Drink up!" He quickly downs the shot, wasting no time whatsoever with it.

The man smiles faintly, raising the glass in response to Reynold's toast. "Indeed. To future endeavors." He then throws his shot back, wincing only slightly as the powerful liquid burns his throat on the way down. He shakes his head a few times, setting the shot glass back down. It's as he's doing so that Nadira finally comes back, and he turns a warm smile to her, though his teeth are a little bit too clenched for it to be genuine. "We were just discussing work, and doing a celebratory shot."

Nadira makes her way back over, gently placing a hand on Griffin's arm, as if somehow that will allow her to determine if he's really okay. "I see. Yes, Gidd is fond of drinking." She's noted what it is they're drinking, too. She raises an eyebrow, then lets out a heavy sigh. Nothing she can do now. "I'm glad you two are getting along nicely."

Reynold merely smiles as he grabs the glasses and moves to set them down in the sink, as one 'slips' from his hand, causing him to duck down quickly to catch it. However, while he's down there he quickly spits the contents of his mouth into the sink as shot glasses clink slightly against the metal. "Yes! Your friend is a fine man! Fine fine indeed."

Griff smiles faintly over to Nadira, reaching out to place his hand over hers briefly. Then, he blinks a few times. "…That was some fairly strong stuff, sir." This is said in a calm tone, as the strong absinthe makes itself known in his system. "I'm fairly certain that a single shot of that is going to knock me on my ass." He chuckles softly, shaking his head.

While Nadira doesn't shout 'cheater' at Reynold, she's fully aware of his scam and an ice-cold glare is given in his direction before she looks at Griffin with some concern, hand still resting on his arm. "Do you want me to make sure you get back home okay? That's… strong stuff indeed." She looks to Griffin seriously. "I can come with you. I wouldn't want you to be waylaid by gypsies on the way."

"No, no. If he needs to rest, he is free to use one of the rooms! I insist!" Reynold seems to slowly start dropping hints of the accent, as the potent tonic weaves its way through Griffin's body. "It should only have him down for a couple of hours or so, yes?" He seems to know a lot about this, which if one weren't drunk, they could start to piece things together.

Griffin smiles over to Nadira, his hand still resting over hers. He's beginning to sway just a bit, as the Absinthe makes quick work on his system. His brain is a bit too addled by the tonic for him to deduce much. A wavering finger is pointed toward Reynold, the man grinning. What's quite funny, and something that Nadira hasn't seen until now, is that he gains a slight Scottish accent when drunk, a gift from his father. "You, sir, could prob'ly drink me under th'table." He grins.

Then, he smiles to Nadira. "I could use th'help home, I think." As Reynold offers a hotel room, Griffin smiles, waving a hand. "Nah, I kin make it home. Not 'gainst you, but I'd rather spend th'money on Nadira or m'boy." Definitely drunk.

"I do have to ask though, what is your full name, and when and where were you born? I do have to have it for the application and tax purposes." Reynold merely smiles at Griffin, keeping just enough of the accent to not arouse Griffin's suspicions. "Ayill, go ahead and call him a cab, yes? Its on me. I insisted he have the drink with me."

Like Nadira would leave Griffin alone with Reynold for a hours, much less a few minutes. The Egyptian woman scowls just a little. "I'll get him a cab." She comments, moving to find the phone. Funny, for someone whose "father" runs the place, she doesn't entirely know where everything is. She soon finds the phone, dialing quickly while her eyes remain fixated on the pair like a hawk. I'm watching you, is the unspoken statement.

Griffin is now pretty far into being drunk, wobbling a little in his chair as he turns a jovial smile to Reynold. "Griffin Owain Mihangle, born April 14, 1975 in Indianapolis, Indiana!" He offers the information cheerfully. Nadira is offered a kind smile as she moves to find the phone, before his gaze is back on Reynold. Might as well find out what he's going to be doing. "What kinda music d'you like? I can play jus' about anything."

"I like all sorts of music. Jazz, hip-hop, classical, rock, disco. What about you? What's your favorite kind of music? How old is your son? He have the same talent that my Ayill says you have?" Reynold continues to smile, as he shifts his weight slightly, making himself appear off balance to Griffin, almost in a hypnotic kind of way. "What other kinds of work do you do? Is it just music?" He glances at Nadira, then turns his gaze back towards Griffin. "You know, my Ayill seems to be a little smitten with you as well. Maybe you could tell me about your son's mother? It's hard being a single father…"

"Cab's on its way," Nadira calls out, moving back towards the two carefully. She slides into a seat next to Griffin, placing a hand gently on his shoulder. She looks carefully towards Reynold, haven't having caught what it was that was asked. She frowns, though this is a tiny one, almost a bit hidden.

Griffin is enjoying himself thoroughly, it seems. He leans against the bartop, grinning. "Aye, man after m'own heart." As the questions about his son continue, he smiles faintly. "Ohhh, Owain is ten. I think he's growin' up t'be like his da'. Basketball player, musician." He grins. However, the jovial demeaner suddenly disappears as he asks the final question, about Owain's mother. He watches Reynold carefully for a moment, his hand slipping over hers. "M'wife is dead."

"I'm sorry for your loss." Reynold lowers his head in silence, before nodding his head. "Here. One more drink. This one will help you a million times." He reaches under the bar, and pulls out a glass which he then fills half-way with water. "Go on and drink. It'll help your body. A good drinker always knows this secret." He sets the glass before Griffin before glancing at the stairs. "I have some paperwork to attend to shortly. Please, come back in a day or so. I like you. You're a fine person, Griffin!" He seems to smile brightly at the man, before glancing at Nadira. "Ayill, the cab should be here shortly, no?"

"It's on its way, Gidd." Nadira murmurs, her hand remaining on Griffin's shoulder. "It shouldn't take long. You know taxi drivers in New York…" She squeezes his shoulder gently before she looks back towards Reynold, her face a bit unreadable.

Griffin keeps his hand over Nadira's, still swaying a bit in his seat, despite Nadira offering a bit of stability. He reaches out, taking the glass and draining down the water. "Thank ye, sir. I'll come back soon." He waves a hand idly toward Reynold, before Nadira suddenly becomes the center of his worl, the hook-nosed man offering a small smile down to her. "M'so sorry y'had to see this. Normally don' get this drunk…"

"Now now, we all have times when we're a good deal drunk. Its how we share it with the world that matters the most." Reynold nods slightly as there's a loud honk outside the bar. He pulls out a card from beneath the counter, and hands it to Griffin. There's something strange about the name on the card itself, as it merely says Williams, and has a single phone number on it. "Call once you get home, okay? Cab company knows to charge it to me already."

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License