#steady inroads my friends steady inroads
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Never reaching this exact goal ever again in my whole life
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All The Way Down: Three
By the time Thor had bathed and made his way to the study, where he knew you were likely going to be, you were making steady inroads into a bowl of green beans with a hunk of fresh bread slathered in butter.
You had never been a woman with a dainty appetite but, then. Smithing was hungry work. And Thor felt a little shiver of pleasure when he noticed a second steaming bowl and an accompanying slab of bread. So you had expected him. Or known that he was going to seek you out regardless.
He reflected with a soft snort as you took a drink from your tankard, that it was probably the latter. Still. He picked up his bowl and took a seat. Next to you, instead of taking the seat across from you.
Because even he hadn’t missed the chair. With a pipe on the side table, filled with tobacco and waiting to be lit. And the old boots still next to the hearth. The seat across from you, as it had always been, was Trebuchet’s. And that was a chair that even Thor was not tempted to take. For a long time, as Thor ate, he was silent. Appreciating the hot meal. And the Cider, not Ale has he had thought, that was in the tankard. He also remembered that meals were for eating. And thinking. And clearly, even though Trebuchet had gone, so far as you were concerned there was no reason to mess with something that worked.
And that suited Thor.
It gave him time to watch you. And to think himself. To wonder how his people would adjust. To wonder how he was going to house them. And care for them. And not for the first time, he was thankful for well-connected friends.
He thought. At least until- Until footsteps. Specifically the footsteps of clawed feet, made him halfturn towards the door.
“There you are,” You grouse, reaching out a hand towards the white she-wolf, “Were’ve you been, hey?”
The wolf condescended to let you stroke her ears and accepted a bowl of her own. One that Thor saw had what was probably mutton. And a few bits of bacon. But, she did not deign to do more than blink at you and yawn before she laid in front of the hearth.
“New pet?”
At Thor’s question you lay your empty bowl aside and pick up your tankard, stretching out your bare feet towards the fire and cradling your tankard. “After a fashion,” you answer. “Matari comes and goes as she pleases.”
“Matari?”
“That’s the name she gave me,” you say with a shrug.
“It’s a good name,” he said smiling a little. You looked tired. And Thor wasn’t surprised. You could hold your own in battle. And you could work all day in a forge. But, even he was immune to the effects of a full stomach, a warm fire, and a tankard of something tasty to drink.
You nod and stifle a yawn with effort. It had been a long day. A long… Well. To be honest, you weren’t sure how long. The days blended together after a while. Days into weeks, weeks into months, months into seasons, seasons into years. You weren’t really sure how much time had passed. Sometimes, you were in the forge for days before your stomach pulled you to the kitchens to eat.
“Y/N,” Thor said softly, watching you.
“Hmm?” you answer.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “About how I Left… I really. I meant to come back.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I- I was ashamed… And. Worried.”
You pull you feet up underneath you and turn towards him, “Worried?”
“About what- how my father would… behave if he realized that he had a smith like you at his disposal. An apprentice of Trebuchet. And I was afraid- Afraid that if I came back I’d put you in danger.”
You nod, seemingly digesting this. “One would think,” you said slowly, “That if I was old enough to fuck you, I should have been old enough to decide that for myself.”
Thor blinked and then felt his cheeks color. “I know-”
“No,” you tell him softly, “You don’t.” You take a deep breath and exhale slowly. “I came to you willingly. And you accepted. You whispered words of love in my ear… And then? You simply disappeared. What we did was tantamount to a betrothal. And still. After all that, when you did return to this realm, you had the gall to court someone else? Did you think I wouldn’t hear of it?”
The wolf in front of the fire growled warningly when Thor moved to reach for you and situated herself firmly in his way, eyeing him warily. And Thor hung his head. He half wished he would have let you strike him. He deserved it. More than deserved it.
“Have you really never married?”
“If a would not have me, then I must be defective,” you snort, parroting the rumors you’d been hearing in ballrooms.
“Not even lovers?” Thor asked, his voice scarcely a whisper. The thought that you’d been denied any companionship because of his actions was enough to make him demand right then that you marry him.
You snort. Somehow sounding more amused than bitter. “Scores of those… Everyone wanted to see how I’d managed to catch your attention at all.”
“Wanted to?”
“Now they know… Though they still come.”
Thor smiled a little. It was said, he supposed, in answer to his question. And not necessarily to make him jealous. Though it did. He wanted to hurt the lovers that would use your body and not- not show you the love you deserved. If he were being very honest with himself, he would say that he was angry with them for not cleaning up the mess he made. “Will they care I’m here?” he asked, instead of saying anything else.
“It’s my house,” you say with a shrug. “If they don’t like it, they can crawl back when you’re gone.”
And Thor’s laugh booms through the study, startling the servants listening at the door.
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Gaming Blogs UK Top rated ten
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This steady growth is partially stimulated by the influence of the Asian nations, China, South Korea, and Japan. They produce the most significant revenues from mobile games and place initially on the list of the worldwide gaming market leaders. In contrast to Europe, Asian gamers are a lot more probably to adopt smartphone games, not PCs or consoles.
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Gaming Blogs UK Best 10
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Less developed countries like Indonesia and Philippines have drawn much less attention from app publishers. Fashion and trends in mobile gaming in these countries have been heavily influenced by Western markets, with inroads from China, Japan and South Korea. In Indonesia, globally common games like Clash of Clans and Candy Crush Saga took 5 of the prime ten spots by revenue and 7 spots by downloads in December 2014. In Philippines, international leaders took an even higher share: six of the leading 10 spots by income and the complete major 7 by downloads. Having said that, unlike in Japan or South Korea, Supercell and King did not rely on huge Tv and outside marketing campaigns to acquire users and climb up ranks. It appears that the development in these 5 emerging Southeast Asian markets was much more organic. In Indonesia and Philippines users had been acquired additional through marketing automation channels such as Facebook.
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Much less created countries like Indonesia and Philippines have drawn much less interest from app publishers. Fashion and trends in mobile gaming in these countries have been heavily influenced by Western markets, with inroads from China, Japan and South Korea. In Indonesia, globally well known games like Clash of Clans and Candy Crush Saga took five of the prime 10 spots by income and 7 spots by downloads in December 2014. In Philippines, global leaders took an even larger share: 6 of the prime 10 spots by income and the entire top rated 7 by downloads. Nevertheless, as opposed to in Japan or South Korea, Supercell and King did not rely on massive Television and outside marketing campaigns to acquire users and climb up ranks. It seems that the growth in these 5 emerging Southeast Asian markets was more organic. In Indonesia and Philippines users have been acquired extra by means of marketing automation channels such as Facebook.
This steady growth is partially stimulated by the influence of the Asian nations, China, South Korea, and Japan. They produce the most significant revenues from mobile games and spot initially on the list of the global gaming market leaders. In contrast to Europe, Asian gamers are far more most likely to adopt smartphone games, not PCs or consoles.
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The future of India's game development neighborhood appears bright and there is no purpose why it can't turn into the selected destination for international gaming industry. The consumer base for games is increasingly growing, specially on mobile, and the proper e-commerce options are currently in location to facilitate micro-transactions and ad income. The Indian game app developers will consequently have ample opportunity to innovate, design and style, and develop compelling game content for each the Indian and global audience.
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This awesome theme is an entire package of impressive styles and site management tools to support you produce a frontend that is sure to wow any gamer out there. With its all-highly effective theme solutions panel and integration with WP Bakery web page builder, you can develop breathtaking gaming forums, clan websites, news channels and game stores with minimal effort.
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You initially convinced oneself that you would attempt one or two board games, but somehow you've ended up spending a lot of revenue on new board games and come to accept that board gaming is your new hobby. You invest your paychecks on typical impulse board gaming buys and kick starters. You religiously watch your favourite youtube channel and you have decided to try and discover matching game players who have similar tastes for you to play games. You start out seeking for the best deals on Amazon and you're kick-beginning every single modern new board games coming out. Even though the massive signal that you happen to be at this stage is that your secret birthday wishlist's for your friends now has board games on it.
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23 May 2022 - Lei
Recognizing progress for last week:
Personal journey:
Managed to practice 5/5 days for Solidity. Made significant inroads with the course. Specifically, I’ve not only managed to finish Section 8 and 9 of Dumitrescu’s course, I’ve completed the entire thing. Furthermore, I’ve returned to Thomas Weigner’s course and began on the Shared wallet exercise.
There are only 5 more chapters to go for Weigner’s course. I am day 16 into my solidity course, and I think I’ve got most of the fundamentals locked down. Now, it’s just about polishing up my fundamentals, and then hopefully moving on to intermediate level this week.
Work:
1. Klaytn hackathon management also went by without much hiccups.
2. I conducted a successful Buidler’s Thursdays session.
3. In my weekly update, I’ve let Harish known of my thoughts wrt the job scope. Some things, perhaps it’s better to be said explicitly.
In short, my week was very career focused and steady progress has been made.
Goals for the coming week
1. Finish Section 5, 6, and 7 of the Weigner course. 5: shared wallet. 6: web3.js. 7: Event trigger / Truffle.
2. Succesful handling of Klaytn Hackathon
3. Conduct another Builder’s thursday
4. Renegotiate job scope.
Gratitudes
Grateful that I get to still work on so much self-improvement stuff even with a full time job.
Grateful for the lovely saturday fishing and playing overwatch with friends.
Grateful for a relaxing Sunday, watching a nice film (Gangubai) and for the nice food.
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The Flame And The Worm - Part One
This one turned into working out as a three parter as I wrote. (Parts two and three are still being written.)
The Flame And The Worm - Part One
Celine
It had been a particularly warm summer, and the fashion amongst those in the know had shifted to demand lighter fabrics and airy ensembles; weighty furs were only being seen as light trims or bags and hats, much to the chagrin of those families bearing such heavyset animals as their symbols. Other families, though, were making the very most of things; hose bearing light colours wore them proudly, and the others who catered for enchantments of frost and air embraced the new trends and skyrocketing demand. The markets were bustling as usual with traders arguing the quality of their wares and exasperating servants searching in vain for the latest strange item their master or mistress ‘had to have’ as a result of the latest passing trends. Meanwhile, the harbour was busier than it had ever been, an increase of shipments of myriad shapes and sizes passing through now that the recent blockade of Agliton had concluded with the spectacular burning and ransacking of their main harbour in a clandestine night raid of great risk but now provably greater reward. The increase in industry across the entire dock front meant the days were filled with the harried shouting of salt worn sailors and the scraping of wood and stone as crates were levered off of great cargo barges and ships, and a number of the less resilient nobles had found blatantly transparent excuses to travel to their summer homes further inland in private forests or on sweeping ancestral vistas to get away from it all. For those that remained due to business necessities or lack of means, scented necklaces or finely woven coverings for the nose and mouth were effectively mandatory; those that could afford such things or had the good graces to either receive them as gifts or already possess them as heirlooms elected to use permanent enchantments that gave off fragrances such as fields of innumerable flowers of a dizzying variety all in full bloom despite the impossibility of the them ever sharing the same season or exotic markets piled high with many different pungent spices. Such things were rare and few had them, however, and so most were settling for copious amounts of perfumes despite their steady and ever surging increase in price as supplies repeatedly failed to be fully replenished after sale, the traders and sailors unable to keep up with the constant growth in consumption.
The new trend was certainly a convenient way for me to be able to identify anyone with even the slightest importance (or at least anyone with the slightest wealth, and given how often the two went hand in hand there was not a great difference between the two). I saw many people who seemed familiar enough to my memory that they must have been frequent guests to my neighbourhood each of whom had some scented item or another and who until that point had been another face in the crowd, never revealing they were related to some distant noble family or another. A little light investigation followed as I noted their appearances and names, and in short order (and a few polite chats amongst the tea rooms and boulevards) I had found most were only important enough to be commanding some small token of their station; still, knowing that they existed and had inroads to their families could always prove useful in the future. None of the people of Pelhure could hardly be blamed for the insistent fashion, of course; the harbour stank of tar and decaying produce and a hundred other vile offenses to the nose, and when the wind blew in from the ocean as it did the vast majority of the time the salt it carried with it was not sufficient to mask the stench underneath as it swept over the city and settled into its fabrics and stones.
Despite the new fashion, my business had been relatively quiet for the past couple of weeks. We were not completely without work, of course, but there were no clients demanding that Elena and I work above our usual comfortable capacity in order to fulfil some fabricated emergency or cater to some last minute soiree, and no need to refuse any meetings due to an excessive backlog of far more important people (or those otherwise more dangerous to offend). I had of course had experience of such quiet periods before and was not overly worried as business always picked back up after a month or two and by then I would have a surfeit of new designs and wondrous ensembles to offer; the shifting tides of fashion were always fickle given just how many things they were at the beck and call of, and so one would find your particular specialties out of the current zeitgeist until some event or shift in people’s whimsies sparked them back into vogue. In truth, the calm was proving useful – the surge of interest that I had following the last Winter’s Ball meant that Elena’s apprenticeship had been somewhat neglected in order to satisfy the sheer volume of requests for new dresses and suits and myriad other pretty things (all edged with an appropriate light twist of danger) and so both of us were focused on the work rather than on teaching and the little frequent lessons throughout the day that were our normal style. I had spent the last day guiding Elena as she worked on our latest piece, with the particular difficulty being the sheer amount of translucent and exceptionally delicate lace demanded by the brief; while there were diamond shaped panels of frosted glass edged in silver glitter to blunt the otherwise razor sharp points that were placed strategically to avoid exposing flesh usually reserved for much more private dalliances the dress was still exceptionally scandalous and misjudging the location of any of the panels by even a half inch would take the dress across the line from its current outrageous state into full indecency. (The brief was most certainly one of the more outlandish ones I have had in a while, interesting despite the sheer brazen naivety of it all; the client already has a well-earned reputation for pushing the boundaries of good taste, and her husband has apparently been looking at one of the serving girls in their employ more often and more closely than she would prefer. As such, she was looking to “shock him” back into looking at her and only her that way again without needing to resort to more extreme measures that would no doubt ruin the poor girls’ life if it didn’t end it completely). The dress was almost complete by the time evening had rolled around, there only being the embellishments such as the trim and the light-weaving remaining to do before it would be ready to present. I trusted that Elena could finish it off without me despite only recently learning to enchant things with the light-weaving; I had given her a simple enough personal enchantment kit as a gift recently to commemorate the anniversary of the start of her apprenticeship and she had picked up a good number of the principles with impressive speed. The recent quiet had perhaps set me on edge a little more than I was willing to admit, and I had certain old friends I needed to check in with to settle my fleeting worries who were only readily available during the hours of darkness. (I didn’t have any reason to believe that anything was actually unusual or out of place, but I had been in Pelhure long enough to know that keeping a regular check on current affairs and thus the situation amongst the major houses was wise; no doubt growing up in Mezzabareen had left some lingering influence, some wariness or paranoia that I had brought with me.)
The storehouses lining the harbour were never as busy during the evening; while simple light spells lit up the main streets with a pale blue glare, access alleyways and storage spaces were deep with inky shadow and the various dockworkers, ship hands and sailors were either asleep in whatever berths they rented or were provisioned with or in one of the many pubs and alehouses and brothels that catered to them and their coin (for such establishments were less choosy about which cities’ coin they accepted, unlike many of the classier establishments further into Pelhure). I chose to wear something a lot less conspicuous than my usual styling given that I was heading for less affluent districts of the city, but I could not entirely forego a certain level of appearance and risk being seen in such a basic ensemble; heavy tan trousers with sections of light iron box chain hanging across the waistline in loops and a thin cream loose knit cotton jumper with a high neckline complemented the leather shoulder bag patterned with elaborate tessellations in thick dark thread without screaming of wealth or being an easy opportunity for more desperate or unsavoury elements (be they criminal or otherwise). I still, of course, attracted a few sideway glances from the odd passer-by or lurker in the shadows (and would have been offended if I hadn’t), but I was confident that if anyone was foolish enough to attempt to accost me the chains on my waist would defend me long enough to allow for a retreat to a better lit area where the assailants would be unlikely to follow; a casual observer would not have known to identify the animating magic within them or the curved inch-long moon blades at each end tucked into the fabric of the waistband. I was looking for Mille-Tamlin, who could usually be found at one of the many hidden ports around Pelhure that mostly remained hidden by the grace of vested parties who favoured having such alternatives to the more well-known supply routes; I believed he was working out of Nyssa’s Tower tonight which was an old stone tower on the western edges of the harbour that nearly everyone fastidiously avoiding thanks to its cursed reputation. People said that things spoiled faster near it and that people fell incurably ill thanks to its influence, and there was some truth to the reputation; a plague had started there a few years back with some poor wretch trapped in a barrel after trying to smuggle himself across an ocean only to fall deathly ill during a long journey tormented by violent storms. The had barrel ended up in the tower for storage thanks to the original buyer no longer wanting the shipment thanks to the delays, and the poor fool died there too weak to prize the lid off and escape; such a long and unpleasant death made for a particularly vengeful ghost who spread death and decay for a good few weeks before an expert in such affairs hired by Mille-Tamlin communed with it, settling it down and forging an alliance to keep people away from one of the exits to one of his smuggling tunnels in the process.
I crossed the harbour to Nyssa’s Tower without any trouble as I knew I would, and slipped in through a rent in the stone near the side. The ghost’s presence would not attack as I had met Mille-Tamlin here previously and so it did not see me as an intruder, though I would rather avoid getting too close to it still; it exuded a foul miasma that would go straight through my scented mouth veil and would stain all my clothes permanently with a thick oiliness. The whole area was unlit except for the flickering glow coming from the trapdoor in the back of the room, wide open and behind a large rotting wine rack that had gouged tracks in the floor as it had been dragged forward from its usual position. I crept down, keeping to the shadows cast by the torches on the walls, listening intently to ensure the tunnels were in use by Mille-Tamlin and not some other smuggler that night, and had made my way a good few dozen feet down the tunnel before I found a short blade at my throat. The chains at my waist quivered, ready to lash out in reaction to my surprise before I quelled the instinct, and slowly raised by hands in a gesture of supplication, sure that whoever this was would be able to cut me open before the chains managed a disabling blow.
“Celine? What’re you doing creepin’ around?” said a recognisable voice, the characteristic rasp of a habitual merique stick addict followed by the smell of ash and burnt plant oils on his breath. The blade was withdrawn and firm rough hands grasped me by my shoulders and spun me around, the worn face of Pharlan grinning at me. “Nearly ‘ad yer throat-fountainin’; yer really should’ve let us know aforehand.”
I smiled back, clapping him on the shoulder; Pharlan had been Mille-Tamlin’s second for four years now (and was by far the best of the many seconds I had known at it; previous seconds had lasted less than a year most of the time, the longest I knew about previously managing almost three years before being caught by a coralback shark unloading cargo in some poorly chosen shallows off the coast of Carthon and dying horribly to the concoction of poisons in its spines.) At least some of his success was likely a result of his stature – a heavy set orc, he towered over near everyone else and was the equal of two normal sailors in a fight, but the muscles hid a sharp mind that had an almost empathic relationship with the sea and the various beasts that lived within and on it. I was pretty certain that I had seen him when he thought no-one could see him under the waves swimming with a shoal of bomb fish once and I still wonder just who or what granted him those talents (and what possible price he was paying for them). I knew he had eyes for Elena, but the poor love blind idiot had yet to even speak to her (which I put down to nerves – he could face down smugglers and pirates and sea monsters without fear, sure, but talking to a woman? That really scared him). I couldn’t really see him ever having much of a chance with Elena anyway – she was far too focused on her work and her future right now, and his career dragged him all over the seas and meant they would spend too little time together for there to be much hope of success; nonetheless, he treated me well where he could in the hope I might put in a good word for him and I certainly did not dislike his good graces. “I’m looking for Mille-Tamlin. I take it she’s further in?”
Pharlan nodded, pointing further down the tunnels with his middle finger (the index finger being missing, likely lost during a boarding action or in some brawl or another). “She’s unloadin’ right now – stuff’s right particular volatile, but you and yer lot will drink the mos’ dangerous things.” He rummaged in one of his many pockets with the other hand, pulled out a rough wooden token with a carved glyph of orcish curves and spikes and pinned it to my jumper, mishandling the weave with heavy hands. “That’ll let ‘em know I saw you and yer allowed in. Go on ahead; I need to stay ‘ere, jump any other buggers dumb enough to stick out their ‘eds.”
The carved tunnel soon opened up into more natural cave tunnels, and as I picked my way down the rough stone tunnels (eroded a long time ago where the ocean broke through a weak seam of stone and still flooded in places from where the tide had gone out) I soon found my way into a large coastal cave with a number of heavy set men hauling large crates of brandy out of a shallow boat and onto a gently hovering cart humming gently with the occasional squeal as the levitation glyphs compensated for the sudden changes in weight. Mille-Tamlin was in the middle, directing them to be careful with her cargo with a mixture of small corrections and outright threats to their take of the profits of the venture. Despite being half the size of her men (and twice as wide – the dwarven constitution being what it is), she made it obvious that she was in command and any casual observer could see that her men would obey damn near any order by their immediate reactions to her every word; she no doubt paid them well but such loyalty was more a result of preferring to use and trust the same people whenever she could, cultivating a wide network of such friends and allies wherever she went. We had hit it off a little poorly to begin with, an error with a shipping manifest that she had arranged to be altered causing my fine silks to end up in her possession and her blood wines to end up in mine and the pair of us both accusing the other of theft and ill intents; my proclamations were fancy and did not directly accuse her of skulduggery, but rather just insinuated it heavily, and hers were direct and blunt, but the general message at the heart of our communications were the same in both instances. However, we had resolved the issue over a very long night of drinking that started with each of us trying to outdrink the other to besmirch them in front of their peers; that was the last night we tried and failed to exact revenge on each other after which we found we had both grown tired of the feud as we both sobered up in the same gutter. The night had led to a long and quite beneficial arrangement as we had talked between ourselves as we sobered up, finding a shared fondness for creative mockery that we both bonded over, and her contacts had proved useful in knowing what was going on and occasionally acquiring items that were perhaps not entirely legal. On my part, I looked the other way when there was an extra fastidiously sealed crate of fabric or metals in my shipments (always sensitive to the air or to the light or just to people looking at it so I could demand it arrive unopened); I also occasionally procured or provided speciality items related to my fields of expertise on request (such as the hilt-work on her boarding axe to ensure that it gripped on to her hand and didn’t slip free during a frenetic brine-soaked battle.) My bag held the last thing she had requested when she was last in port but it had taken a while to make, the enchantments needing to be carefully layered on top of each other and demanding its collection wait until the next month; quite why she needed nightclothes with such a well hidden smuggling pouch I did not know (though them being in her size at least gave some suggestions), but as was our custom I did not intend to pry and was instead content that she would surely share should it lead to an amusing tale. She had not seen me enter from the back of the cave, and I was nearly upon her and her men before I spoke thanks to how very engrossed were they were in their labours.
“Darling, we really must stop meeting like this,” I said, causing a small commotion as Mille-Tamlin’s hand went to her axe before realising there was no threat. “Celine,” she said, her expression showing a little wry irritation but mostly relief I was not a Pelhurian guard or rival smuggler; no doubt she would get me back with some small surprise or prank at a later date. “It’s alright, lads – she’s a friend. Of sorts. You can carry on loading while we talk shop.” A grin erupted onto her face as she leapt down from the high rock she was standing on to oversee the work and splashed through the shallows to come over to me, slamming a hand into mine in a firm handshake. “I take it you have the latest item?”
“In the bag. Fine work, though given it’s my own that was always a given,” I said, reaching into the bag and pulling out the nightgown neatly wrapped in waxed paper so that it was protected from the elements and then handing it over. “That should serve nicely for whatever you want it for. Been in the city long?” I asked, knowing full well she had already been around for almost a week (and that she was leaving come the next day, this being one of her last shipments in before heading out with a particularly expensive cargo; I usually would have met her earlier for a night out but had heard the smuggling window was much tighter this time around thanks to more patrols put on to keep the returning Agliton soldiers bust and out of too much trouble.) She nodded, gestured to head further in the tunnel to get some distance between us and her crew before our conversation grew to more sensitive matters outside of their preview, and I followed. “You know, I’ve heard some interesting chatter,” she said as we walked.
“Mmm. I was hoping so.” The amount of things that Mille-Tamlin heard was impressive, but then she had a lot of sailors and servants who she talked to regularly as well as people in the major cities to talk to them when she was not there; noting everything in books filled with nearly organised coded text she was able to find anything she had recorded easily. It was the secret to how she knew so many interesting things. The people she heard so many things about couldn’t help it, of course – the upper classes barely noticed their staff even when they were stood right in front of them, after all, and would talk freely about all manner of ill-chosen subjects without ever considering who else might be listening unless they thought someone of importance might be nearby.
“Thought you might’ve been. Lots of the usual, this lord feuding with that lady and the like, but there’s something much more pertinent to you this time. You’re still based in the Brightline District, right?”
I was, and confirmed as such.
“I’ve heard something’s about to go down, see. Don’t know who – they didn’t say. Don’t know the target either. Very hush hush, but someone in the area’s seriously pissed off House Almaz. We’re talking an instructional, here. They’re looking at doing it sometime in the week following the next. Might want to prepare some fall backs in case you need to get out for a bit.” The Brightline District was officially independent, but it had grown up around the main road that House Almaz had used to ship jewels from their small mines in the Cavelight mountains into the city before the mines dried up and became little more than caves and tunnels kept out of a sense of history. (There had always been rumours that they had been repurposed to some nefarious end thanks to their remote location, of course, but nothing had ever been proven.) As such, there was still an unofficial sense that the district was more theirs than anyone else’s, and so they were able to operate more freely than the other houses there without risking a diplomatic upset, especially with their current status as a result of riding high from their successful campaigns around Agliton.
“I’ve got places, sure. Might double check them and make sure they’re stocked up well, though. Thanks for the heads up. Anything else?”
We passed another good hour and a half discussing all the various scraps of information and whispered rumours she had collected, but nothing else Mille-Tamlin had was as pertinent or useful to me as that first report; that is not to say that it was useless information (as if there is any such a thing), but merely that matters closer to home will always loom larger in one’s attention. With our discussions complete (and myself forewarned there was another trio of crates to come in my next shipment of hessian that would be an unmarked special to keep back until they came to collect when they came into Pelhure next month), we parted ways and I went back to my shop ready for a bath and then sleep, leaving the smugglers (now with their brandy fully unloaded) to their business.
- - -
I spent much of the next week checking over my fail safes and fall backs, leaving much of the day to day stitch work and purchasing to Elena and her more than capable hands. She, of course, did not disappoint, even managing to secure several bolts of Arbareth tree cotton despite the recent blight it had been suffering; I was going to have to promote her to some more challenging tasks soon before the threat of boredom set in. The stockpiles I checked were a little lower than I would have liked, but it was an error that was soon rectified. I made sure to move anything that could reasonably be moved out of the shop without disrupting business to other locations as well rather than risk them being caught in a potential crossfire given that mages carrying out instructionals tended to be poor at limiting collateral damage; mostly these were spare pieces of tailoring equipment not currently in use and excess stockpiles of fabric and other such supplies, but I made sure that Aine’s dress was moved as well despite its value on the shop floor as an advertisement – it would just have to tolerate being out of the limelight for a couple of weeks. (It did flex its ribbons at me as I carried it out to one of the storehouses, but I knew there was a passing student of outsider craftwork due to visit Pelhure in a couple of weeks’ time who would leap at the chance to study such a dress and would fawn over it to such an extent that any lingering malign intent would be soothed away by the attention and adulation, and I knew that it would not do anything too cruel until then.) I briefly entertained the idea of moving out of the shop for a short while myself as well, but quashed this idea without needing to give it too much thought; if I was seen to be fleeing a threat that was likely not even pointed at me would only encourage opportunists to strike at me. I did not feel I had much to worry about anyway, as should they move to harm me I am more than capable of self-defence and would extract my own pound of flesh in return; anyway, I had slept in that bed for a good many years and did not feel much like being driven from it. I did briefly suggest Elena might want to be off on some educational trip or supply run for that week, but I suspect that by remaining it told her the threat was not one to be considered all that seriously, and so she remained as well, clearly preferring the benefits of the more hands on teaching she was currently receiving from me.
Mille-Tamlin’s information was good, I have to give her that, though in retrospect I really do wish that it would have been a bit more specific or at the very least had more accurately conveyed the urgent danger that it represented. It was twelve days after her warning and the dead of night, and I received very little warning before it was abundantly clear that we were under attack. A small metallic sphere smashed through the window into my bedroom, sending small fragments of glass scattering across the floor as it rolled to a stop on the deep rug at the end of my bed, and I rose blearily from my sleep to see what it was. It ignited suddenly in a burst of white glare, and as the rug began to burn I leapt out of bed in my nightclothes (light and fortunately not in any way restrictive of movement), grabbed the dagger I had kept on my bedside table just in case and fled towards the back of the shop and Elena’s small bedroom; as I threw open the door out of my room the flaming sphere flashed again and sprayed fluorescent burning streamers around the room in all directions, igniting the curtains and bed and walls and any other soft furnishings they reached as they landed.
“Elena! We’re under attack! Get up!”
As I burst into Elena’s bedroom (a small, narrow space in the back of the house barely big enough for her bed and clothes) I could see that she was much more prepared for an attack than I had been. Open books of myriad sizes and age were strewn around the room, filled with text explaining various principles of fashion or historic trends of famous icons, and there were great reams of paper covered in her own designs that I had never seen before; meanwhile, Elena was dressed and armed and had already opened the small window out to the back so that we could escape. I can only assume she had not yet slept and had been carrying out additional studies of her own during the night when I slept; a row of empty vials on a small shelf above the headboard suggested she had been indulging in some form of elixir or enchantment to remove her need for sleep as she did so despite knowing full well that I would have never condoned such an action – long term use of such things destroyed one’s mind and a couturier needs her creativity, after all. Still, I had no time to be angry or to admonish her – that would have to come later once we were safe and clear from present dangers. Elena went out of the window first, landing gracefully with only a light clattering of her shoes on the cobbles below despite leaping from the upper floor of our shop. I was not as graceful, dropping down to hang from the window sill from my hands before letting go so as to reduce the distance I needed to fall rather than risk a twisted ankle, but I reached the cobbles without injury and turned, thinking which way was best to retreat from the unknown assailants.
It was a split second decision, and as I decided to flee to the east (taking us directly away from the front of the shop as fast as was possible). We had gotten barely two paces away before we pulled up short, however, as eight shadowy figures melted out from wherever they were hiding, each armed with a short wooden club. They were rough, possibly part of the Usoen navy but most certainly off duty at the current time if they were, and dressed in hideous boiled leather armours that while likely functional enough had no grace or presence. Elena went for them first, launching herself with surprising quickness at the nearest figure as her brass knuckles sparked with lightning; swept under the swing of his club, and drove her fist deep into his chest launching him back as the storm bound within the weapon boomed with a mighty thunderclap. I hung back as the edges of my dagger splintered into a many feathered spike, the blade splitting into numerous tiny steel shards as it released a cloud of needles that rushed forth to pincushion the first figure to run towards me; while they were unable to pierce the leather armour, his face was uncovered and he went to the ground screaming as the needles filled his eyes and blinded him. The rest of them did not hold back as one would hope when seeing their compatriots go down at such speed and in such a painful manner, however, and rushed us in unison, three going for each of us. Elena was closer to them and went down first, one of the three catching her from behind on the back of her head with a heavy crunching blow as she focused a driving punch through the other man in front of her and shattered his arm at the shoulder; as she slumped to the ground, unconscious, the other two turned their attention to me and joined my side of the fray. I had just about been managing to keep the others away from me when there were only three of them, maintaining distance with bursts of needles from the dagger and forcing them to dodge and evade and leap behind cover rather than advancing on me, but the additional two assailants tipped the odds and were too much for me to keep away. I of course continued the fight, trying to manoeuvre over to Elena to check on her more closely (though even at a distance I could see she was still breathing which at least brought me some small relief), but they soon grabbed me and threw the dagger away; the only small grace before I was overwhelmed was that I at least got another one of them up close, punching the dagger through a seam in the armour between his legs and filling his groin with hundreds of sliver-thin razors.)
Disarmed, and held roughly by the arms by two men behind me, the leader of the shadowy figures looked me over sternly. “Nothing personal, lass, though I suspect my fellows might be a bit more sour about how this all went. You just pissed off the wrong people. Don’t worry about your friend, there; she’s not part of the contract. Need her sleeping, though I reckon she’ll be fine following a bit of rest; as for you, though, we can’t have anyone interfering with what’s coming. Just need to hold tight – the boss will be round in a minute.”
I struggled, of course, but without any of my enchantments to hand I did not have the strength or offensive firepower to break free from them. For their part, they just looked supremely bored – they had clearly done this before, and this was nothing out of the ordinary for them. A much smaller figure flanked by another two thugs came to us from the front of my shop fairly soon, the growing fire behind her lighting up both her and the alley; my shop was now fully ablaze and scraps of half burnt fabric and paper floated off into the moonless sky on currents of warm air as it consumed everything of value. She was small – halfling or gnome I couldn’t be sure – and bedecked with the regalia of a potent war mage, the sword at her side clearly well-oiled and glimmering with poison and her frame adorned with well-cut leather armour that was fitted together perfectly and studded with yellow cat’s eye gems that glimmered in the light. Unlike the nameless thugs holding me, she wore intricate crystalline gauntlets that glimmered with trapped power and a crystal mask that hid her features and yet moved with her lips as she spoke; there were no holes in the crystal for breathing or for the eyes to peer out of and yet she seemed to know exactly where she was going and what she was doing as if the mask were no hindrance at all.
“Apologies for the somewhat uncouth way we are doing this, my dear Celine, but I don’t believe you would have responded to a formal request. I’m afraid you have very much brought this upon yourself, though; an appropriate punishment must be levied for your deeds.”
My mind searched for any possible escape, a way to persuade this lady to release me, but nothing came to me – I had enough enemies that I could not even hazard a reasonable guess which of them was the one going to such extremes. I needed more information – and only this strange crystal woman could likely give me the answer, and so I asked, unable to keep the anger out of my voice.
“What deeds? What could possibly justify all of this?”
The crystal mask seemed saddened. “If you don’t know, then I’m not at liberty to tell you. You really should know already – it’s obvious if you consider what you’ve done. Nevertheless, I need to carry this particular process out either way. There are others who need to know about this too, need to see what happens when you harm my Lord and Lady. In truth, it’s more for them than it is for you – you’re not going to matter to anyone once we finish here. First, though…” She reached into a side pouch on her belt, pulled out a small black diamond studded hairclip, and slipped it into my hair; pulled out another, and slipped that on to, and continued to adorn my head with jewels in a pattern known only to her.
“Wait… what are you doing?” I struggled more as she slipped the hairclips onto my head; I could sense they were enchanted, but I couldn’t place the spell that was on them; regardless, even without knowing I knew that their effect was not going to be a positive one for me. The not really knowing meant that my imagination went into overdrive, and I thought of mind wipes and grotesquery’s that might be inflicted; for her part, the woman in the crystal mask just ignored me, continuing her work, and only spoke once she was done. “There we are. I apologise for the poor fit with the rest of your ensemble – that particular indignity is not intended as part of the punishment. Nevertheless, those clips are necessary; we can’t have you passing out as we work, now. You do need to know exactly what we are doing, after all.”
The woman in the crystal mask paused, waiting for these words to sink in, and my mind spiralled as to why they would want such a thing; clearly she saw some comprehension in my expression as she indicated to the men holding me that they should hold my hands out in front of me. I resisted, of course, but could not really stop them. The woman in the crystal mask reached into yet another pocket, pulled out a pair of thin wire bracelets studded with more tiny gems (sapphire this time) and slipped them over my hands, one apiece. “To prevent unwanted spread,” she explained without really revealing anything, and then she pulled out a small vial of some foul smelling oil and painted my fingers and the back and front of my hands evenly before pausing once more. “Celine… are you ready to begin?”
“What?! No!” She seemed to think that I would accept what was about to happen! That I would go along with it! The very nerve! The very-
“Shame. It’s always easier when the condemned accepts their punishment. Well, we need to begin anyway,” the woman in the crystal mask said, cutting off my train of thought as she conjured a spark of flame on the finger tip of each of her crystal gauntlets before touching them to the back of my hands at the same time.
Even though it only took a moment, that fragment of time seemed to hang in the air, my mind trapped in it staring in disbelief that this was truly happening. There was almost a dreamlike sense to it, as if none of this was actually real, just a bizarrely awful nightmare, and then the moment ended. Those tiny fires that were so small on her finger tips became a blaze, rushing across the oil on my hands before halting at the sapphire bracelets, and my hands were a conflagration. The pain came rushing in after the fire, excruciating, and I felt myself fall into unconsciousness, or I would have, for as soon as I was going to pass out the hairclips sparked in my mind and brought me all the way back to freshly reawakened torment. I stared at my hands; I couldn’t look away despite desperately not wanting to see this. Fat melted, dripping to the ground, and all I could think was that it needed to stop, that the agony needed to stop, that I would do anything to make it stop, and yet none of my mental pleading was to any avail. The burning plunged deep into flesh, charred it black, fragments burning away and drifting off and curling in the flames, and it still did not stop. And then the flames reached bone, began to char them black as well, the sound of finger bones cracking in the intense heat drowned out by nothing but the screaming I had not even realised was coming from me. And then – and then – the woman in the crystal mask spoke further.
“Celine? Celine? Can you hear me?” I could, only barely in the background, but there was no way for me to tell her – all my attention, all my focus, was on my hands, on the pure white convulsions in the ashen remnants of my nerves, and I could not express anything but raw torment erupting from my throat, but she didn’t care, and continued regardless. “Celine. You need to listen. This,” she said, holding up another vial, “will put out the flames. But it will also conclude our business here. This fluid is very rare, you understand, very illegal, but we got it just for you. Your hands will never heal, Celine. Never. This poison ensures it. This only needs to happen once, you understand. It will stop any normal healing, but if you seek any magical healing, this will happen again, Celine. Your hands will ignite again, Celine. They’ll burn again, Celine. So don’t do that to yourself. I’m going to apply this now, Celine.” Her voice sounded almost concerned, as if what had happened was an unhappy circumstance she had no control over, but I do not believe she got no satisfaction from this, for why else would she do this? Regardless, she had said what she wanted, and so took out the stopper, poured the thick contents of the vial onto my hands, and it glowed as the flames died down, setting into what charred scraps of flesh were left along with the burnt bone and cartilage, and the pain lessened, a little, only a little, still agonizing, but less now.
“We’re done here, Celine.” The woman in the crystal mask looked up, clearly at the men who no longer needed to hold me back now I had fallen to my knees. “Take the clips out.” Rough hands on my hair pulled the clips out with little care not to rip out strands of hair with them, and the enchantment in my mind still sparking constantly to keep me tethered there left with them, and finally, at last, I slumped to the cobbles in darkness as blessed unconsciousness came.
#dressverse#part one#fire#writing#author:benmiff#character: the woman in the crystal mask#character:mille-tamlin#character:celine#character:elena#character:pharlan
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The Demon’s Legacy
A new Bane fic! I hope you like it. This follows FROM THE ASHES, but it can be read as a stand-alone, too. It’s also available at Ao3 and FanFiction.net.
Chapter 1
“It doesn’t matter how many times you look at yourself in the mirror,” Barsad said with a teasing grin, “you’re still ugly, Bane. Surgery or no surgery.”
Bane’s dark gaze narrowed and shifted to Barsad for only a moment. “Always the droll one, brother, even after a long mission. We’ll see how your humor and stamina hold up once your child is born.”
Barsad chuckled and peered through the dusty windshield of the Land Rover while doing his best to avoid as many holes in the desert road as possible. Bumpy roads always irritated Bane’s damaged back and made him impatient to reach their destination. He was already impatient enough to get home; Barsad didn’t want to increase his commander’s agitation by blowing a tire on this God forsaken goat path.
“Perhaps,” Bane said, “I’m looking forward to the birth of your child more than you are. Henri will have something new to distract him, and in time he will have a playmate. That will be a relief to his poor mother.”
“Your kid does enjoy running the pants off Talia. I’m sure she’ll be glad to see you. She’ll be able to get some rest now. We’ve been gone a month. That’s the longest you’ve been away from them since Henri was born.”
Bane studied his scarred face in the mirror a moment longer before flipping up the sun visor. He would never get used to seeing himself without the mask which had helped him breathe and had administered an inhalable analgesic cocktail for over twenty years. The surgeon had said that the scars from the series of plastic surgeries nearly two years ago would continue to fade. Before his physical relationship with Talia had blossomed and led to the birth of their son, he had had no cares about his appearance. Before the mask was necessary, his mother and Talia’s mother, Melisande—the only two women he had known while growing up in prison—had told him how handsome he was, but he had dismissed their compliments as a mother’s pride and a friend’s kindness. After his surgeries, Talia had showered similar flattery upon him, but hers, too, he discounted as mere charity. Perhaps after the scars had faded, his own appearance would be somewhat worthy of her flawless beauty.
His decision to undergo the many procedures, however, had nothing to do with vanity. Decades of drug use to dull the pain from his prison injuries had damaged his body, and to continue down that same path had been deemed unwise and dangerous. Talia had been the one to convince him of the need to discard the mask. In the past, Bane had cared little about the deterioration of his body; he had no desire for a long life. But Talia’s declaration of love and Henri’s birth had changed his mind. Now he had much more to live for than just fulfilling his role as Demon Head of the League of Shadows.
Ridding himself of the heinous mask had other benefits, too. There were few visages in the world as well-known as that of the Masked Man, Gotham’s Reckoning, Bane the mercenary. True, he had acquired immunity for himself and Talia for their siege of Gotham, a bargain struck in return for the League taking down the world’s most wanted Islamic terrorist three years ago. But there were other operations by the League before and since Gotham that many governments considered crimes and for which Bane was hunted. Being free of the mask helped conceal him, an ironic twist of fate. Besides his brothers in the League and a trusted handful of others considered surrogate family, like Talia’s grandmother, his surgeries were known to no one outside his circle except the plastic surgeon. His silence had been purchased and ensured by threats to the lives of his family and himself.
As an infant, Henri had no aversion to the mask, but as he grew, Bane feared his son might view him as fearsome if he continued to wear it. Bane had been happy to have his enemies recoil at the sight of him; he did not, however, desire that reaction from Henri. He wanted to be able to hold his son close, to kiss him, to speak to him without the wheeze of the mask or its muffled quality.
Bane glanced at Barsad’s tired, tanned face with its heavy stubble. “How many days, brother?”
With a displeased glance that caused Bane to chuckle, Barsad grumbled, “You know how many.”
“True.”
“But you like tormenting me by asking, don’t you?”
“Of course. I’m enjoying your anxiety.” Bane grinned at his lieutenant. “I remember how you enjoyed tormenting me in the same way when the birth of my child drew near. You never thought I could be a good father. Have I not proven you wrong?”
“Maybe. At least when you’re home at the palace. But you’re away too much, at least according to Talia, Henri, and Maysam. Even Sanjana is saying it now.”
“That is because Sanjana is about to have her first child, and she now fully understands Talia’s concerns when I am in the field. Sanjana will fret over your missions more than ever now. She has already approached me about limiting your duties, if not convincing you altogether to leave the League.”
Barsad scowled, but Bane could tell his friend was not angry with Sanjana. “I told her not to talk to you about that. It’s between her and I.”
“But she hasn’t convinced you; that is certain.”
“Of course not. I love my work. What the hell would I do otherwise?”
“Be a father.” Bane cocked one arched eyebrow at Barsad. “And a husband.”
“I’m not leaving the League just so I can get married, Bane. And I don’t see you doing that, so don’t lecture me.”
“Talia would never ask. Sanjana, on the other hand—”
“Uh-uh. Nothing doing. She and I have talked about this ad nauseam, as you know.”
“Your situation with Sanjana and my situation with Talia are completely different. With Sanjana, she has her culture applying pressure. A pregnant, unwed woman. I certainly don’t have to educate you on how the Hindu religion frowns upon such behavior, to say the least. She wants to be able to show her child to her family.” Bane allowed a small grin. “Though I cautioned her against it if the babe looks like its father. Wouldn’t want to horrify her poor mother.”
“Touché, brother.” Barsad swerved around a broad crater in the road. “But, remember, her mother wouldn’t want Sanjana to marry someone outside their religion and culture.”
“Well, she doesn’t want her daughter pregnant out of wedlock, but here you are. At least if you married her, you could tell your mother-in-law that Sanjana got pregnant after you were married months ago.”
“I’m not leaving the League, Bane.”
“For selfish reasons, I am glad, of course. But I hope your stubbornness does not alienate the mother of your child. She will be stressed enough as it is, once the baby is born.”
“Sanjana knew what she was getting into when this all started.”
“True enough, but there was no baby in the picture two years ago, brother.”
Barsad gave a small huff of annoyance and reached into a pocket for a piece of Nicorette gum. “I’ve given up smoking for them. I’d say that’s enough sacrifice for now.”
“I, for one, am pleased about your abstinence from that vile habit. You would never refrain for my sake, so if for nothing else, I can thank Sanjana for those inroads.”
“They’re making us soft, Bane.”
Bane chuckled. “And we would have it no other way. We can’t help that we love them, and they love us. They’ve taken two battle-hardened animals and molded us into human beings. We never would have thought it possible back on that mountain in Kashmir.”
Barsad chewed vigorously on the gum, remembering how Bane had saved his life during the Kargil War. “You won’t get any argument from me on that.” The SUV violently lurched when it hit another large hole, causing Bane to steady himself.
“Now,” Bane grumbled, “if only Sanjana can improve your driving…”
#
The woman sat in a rickety wooden fold-up chair with no padding, one elbow resting on her knee, tapered chin in her hand. Bored, she scanned the dusty bazaar with her dark, almond-shaped eyes. Villagers moved leisurely along the variety of stalls, doing more gossiping and haggling than buying. No one had stopped by her stall in some time. Apparently, no child needed a cornhusk doll, no adult needed new pottery or a beautifully hand-embroidered scarf. As advertisement, she wore one of those scarves, painstakingly crafted by her mother, a shimmery thing of saffron with gold trim and embroidered flowers of blue. She had draped it almost carelessly over her brunette hair, which she had pinned up this morning, to keep it off her neck in the day’s rising summer heat.
This was her second day selling her mother’s wares. On the first day, a couple of the villagers had recognized her from the rare occasions when she had visited her mother over the years. An old man even remembered her from her days as a child, dutifully manning the booth with her mother. But the villagers had not lingered long to talk, just to ask about her mother’s convalescence. None of these people interested her. She felt no kinship or yearning for this village where she had been born thirty-four years ago. If not for her mother, she would never return. But her mother needed her now; she had no other family to care for her during her illness or tend to her booth. Over the years, she had sent her mother money every month, but her parent insisted on creating her dolls, pottery, and scarves to sell to the villagers.
“I’m not going to live off my daughter,” she always said, her tone mirroring her child’s own stubbornness. “What would you have me do? Sit in my house, decaying? I enjoy making my things and selling them.”
“You should find a man, Maji.”
Her mother bristled. “Why do I need a man? They are nothing but trouble. Didn’t your father teach you that?”
“Aren’t you lonely?”
“I wouldn’t be if my daughter visited more often.”
Sometimes she wondered if her mother had never remarried because she was still in love with the man who had fathered her, even though he had been dead nearly ten years now. How well she recalled that day when she had seen his picture on television and learned of his death, a picture that had made her gasp. That icy blue stare had reached deep inside her and stirred a memory. She had seen that face before, but how and where? It came to her a short while later—that was the same man in the picture Maji had hanging above her bed at home. Though he was many years older, age couldn’t hide the identity of the man whose picture she had stared at countless times while growing up. Her mother had no television back then, so she had called her to share the news story. Immediately her mother had gone to the house of a neighbor who had a TV. A short while later, her mother called back, and they spent hours talking about the unknown life her father had led after leaving their village.
A child’s high-pitched voice caught her attention and drew her back to the bazaar. A boy, perhaps two years old, stood chattering cheerily at the next booth while holding the hand of an older woman. His startlingly blue eyes—large and expressive—were bright with the happiness of innocence, roaming all about him as if he was interested in everything the world had to offer. He sucked absently on the fingers of his left hand, his lips full and soft, glistening with spittle. Hair the color of walnuts, wispy and wild, shifted in the small breeze like reeds upon a river. His gaze met that of the young woman, and he gave her a beguiling smile, removing his fingers from his mouth as if caught being disobedient.
“Jiddah!” he chirped, tugging on his guardian’s hand. “I want to see the dolls.”
At this, his guardian—dressed in black hijab and abaya, with only her face and hands exposed—turned her head, and the young woman saw her fully now, recognized her. But who was this child with her, and why had he called her grandmother?
“Be patient, ya habib alby.”
“Please,” he drew out the word, giving the older woman an irresistible look of supplication.
“Very well,” she continued in Arabic. “You may look, but don’t touch. And stand right there where I can see you.”
The young woman noticed the boy’s guardian wasn’t the only one keeping an eye on him. There were two bodyguards near at hand—silent, watchful, expressionless men with automatic rifles—and there would be a third who couldn’t be seen. Their presence didn’t surprise the young woman, for she knew the widow of Siddig El Fadil never went anywhere without bodyguards. Though her warlord husband had been dead for many years, her brothers-in-law had inherited the family business, so she still needed protection. And apparently so did the little boy.
With a small gasp of triumph, the child hopped over to the dolls displayed at the young woman’s booth. He stared at them without reaching for them, rolling his lower lip inward as if this would help him maintain control. He clasped his hands before him in a form of restraint, fingers twitching restlessly.
“Salaam,” the young woman said, leaning slightly forward over her mother’s wares, offering a gentle smile so her presence would not overwhelm him.
“Salaam,” he said almost shyly, taking his eyes from the dolls only a moment to acknowledge her. “Jiddah say don’t touch.”
“I could let you hold one, but we’d better wait for her to come over, yes?”
He frowned and nodded.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
“Henri. But Papa Baba calls me Jin.” He grinned proudly.
The name surprised her for multiple reasons. It wasn’t an Arabic name, and Maysam El Fadil was an Arab. Also, the boy used the French pronunciation of Henri. But most startling of all in its coincidence was that Henri was her own father’s name.
“Where Miss Panjabi?” he asked.
“My mother is sick. I’m taking her place for now.”
His lips pursed, his brow wrinkled. “Sick?”
“Yes, but she’s getting better.”
This seemed to cheer him, freeing his expression, and the young woman liked him for caring about her mother.
“What your name?” he asked, fully looking at her now.
“Habibi,” Maysam’s voice broke into their conversation as she stepped to his side. The young woman estimated Maysam’s age somewhere in her seventies by now. Yet even the harsh desert environment or her advancing age had failed to degrade the woman’s stately beauty.
“I not touch nothing, Jiddah.” He turned his innocent smile up at her.
“Anything,” Maysam stressed the correct word in her somewhat throaty, sultry voice.
“Anything,” Henri repeated. “I have doll now?”
“You have enough toys, habibi.”
The younger woman stood and handed him one of the dolls. “I promised him he could hold one when you came over.” Her Arabic was flawless, as were the several other languages she knew.
Maysam eyed her. “Where is Miss Panjabi?”
“She is ill. I’m her daughter.”
Maysam studied her with something close to suspicion. Was she remembering the little girl who used to sit here with her mother all those years ago? “Please give her my well wishes for her swift recovery. I hope it is nothing serious.”
“Thank you. I’ll tell her.” The younger woman smiled at Henri, who was examining the doll. He seemed more interested in how the toy was constructed than in its potential as a plaything. Again, she wondered what the boy was to Maysam, but for the safety of her own mother, she would not inquire. “Are you sure you don’t want to purchase that for him? I’m sure we could agree upon a fair price for my mother’s skilled work.”
“We have bought them before, haven’t we, habibi?” Maysam lovingly stroked the boy’s hair back into place. “And every one of them he takes apart and strews the husks everywhere, then later tries to put it back together again, don’t you, ya habib alby?”
“I make better,” Henri proclaimed.
The younger woman laughed, but Maysam chided him, “Don’t insult Miss Punjabi. She makes lovely dolls. They are fine just the way they are. Now apologize to her daughter.”
Henri’s expression fell, and he looked dolefully up at the younger woman from beneath his long eyelashes. That kid is going to break a lot of girls’ hearts when he grows up, she thought.
“I sorry.”
“It’s all right,” she said with a reassuring nod.
“I think,” Maysam said, reaching into her purse, “we will purchase the doll after all.”
The younger woman knew she was doing this as a form of apology. Maysam El Fadil—a paradox of lethalness and honor, more honor than her husband had had. She wondered what Maysam would say if she knew who she was really talking to. Would there be sympathy or indifference?
They agreed upon a fair price for the doll, and Henri beamed in triumph as he hugged the toy close, making the dry cornhusks crunch. His blue eyes danced, and again the young woman wondered who the boy really was to Maysam. Her only child had supposedly died many years ago, and her only grandchild had died almost three years ago. Well, she would certainly have questions for her mother when she returned home tonight. Perhaps village gossip could fill in the blanks.
She considered trying to sell a scarf or two to Maysam, as her mother would want, but she lacked her parent’s drive as a saleswoman.
As Maysam took Henri’s hand again, she said, “Please remember to give my best to your mother.”
“I will.”
Maysam started to move to the next stall but hesitated before giving the younger woman one last look, a look that seemed to have an ambiguous warning behind it. “I remember seeing you here when you were a child, but I’m afraid I cannot recall your name.”
Of course Maysam would assume the younger woman would remember her name; everyone in the village knew who lived behind the walls of the neighboring palace. By omitting this part of the pleasantry yet asking for the younger woman’s name, she had subtly made it plain where each of them stood in the local hierarchy.
The younger woman gave her a knowing smile, one that she was confident Maysam would understand as a reminder that she didn’t live here in the shadow of the palace and thus lacked the same fears as her mother and the other villagers.
Then, her smile broadening, she answered, “My name is Nyssa.”
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After Your Legal Career Is Over…
One issue confronting senior lawyers is a lack of identity, that is, “if I am not a lawyer, then what am I?” This is a problem for many lawyers who don’t know what to do with themselves if they are not practicing. My sense is that we will always be lawyers with whatever positive and/or negative connotations attach. (In fact, the State Bar of California always knows where you are, even if you are dead. The membership record lists as “deceased” those taking dirt naps.)
How you approach the identity issue is critical to the rest of your life. Some examples shared with me:
One lawyer, when asked to move with his girlfriend to a retirement environment, resisted, stating that he couldn’t retire, because if he wasn’t a lawyer then what was he? Several years later, he died by suicide.
Another lawyer, in his early sixties, who got laid off in the never-ending spiral of layoffs, “right-sizing,” and other euphemisms, found that he is very happy not practicing any more. The stress has evaporated, and he is delighted to have non-lawyer jobs where someone else has the stress of making decisions. He can just work from “9 to 5,” so to speak and enjoy his family, home life, and hobbies. He does not have Dabney Coleman as his boss.
youtube
The movie 9 to 5 is almost forty years old, but it was prescient about the #Times Up, #Me Too movements. The movie was made in 1980, and so for millennials it’s a must see. The movements’ issues are nothing new, but history shows that the 1980s were different times and there was no social media then.
Is there’s enough money available to retire? That’s a huge issue for many of us. There have been lots of articles about the “wealth transfer” from the greatest generation parents to us boomers .However, there was no such “wealth transfer” to me and most of my friends. What I have now is what I have for the future and I am sure there are many others similarly situated. For many dinosaurs, it’s not enough to last through either welcome or unwelcome retirement.
The loss of business can and does happen at any age, but it seems to hit harder the older we get as the well of potential business starts to dry up. Business referral sources retire, get laid off, go elsewhere, and die. It’s part of the natural order of things, but that still doesn’t make it any easier.
When companies change general counsel or others in the chain who make hiring decisions about outside counsel, it’s a whole new world for the outside counsel who are often dazed and confused by the changes. Where once there was a steady stream of work, now there is just a trickle, if even that. Mindful of legal spend, corporate legal departments bring more work inhouse, are more concerned about diversity and inclusion in their outside counsel choices (yay!) which leave outside counsel wondering where their next case from the company is going to come from, if there is ever another one.
The decrease or outright lack of business can hit many senior lawyers hard, bring them up short, and realize that what was is no more. So, what to do? Network (gag) more? Write more articles? Speak at more events? Run down the street with your hair on fire? (That’s my personal favorite but I have been dissuaded on more than one occasion.) Lawyering’s a business, remember? It may be a “relationship” business, but it’s still a business and there are all kinds of legal and nonlegal providers now making inroads into what used to be the exclusive province of lawyers. Competition is fiercer than ever. How to compete with a robot?
Another lawyer friend of mine who has watched his business fall off a cliff plans to retire this year. It’s unclear whether he’s jumping or being pushed, but the result is the same. He’s full of plans for what he will do, including turning one of his hobbies into a business. Life exists on the other side of practice. It takes time to find that life and you have to shed your ego of “I am a lawyer,” not easy to do.
Inextricably intertwined with the identity issue is the social isolation issue, which is a major concern for seniors, and senior lawyers are no exception. Many senior lawyers still have offices that they go to every day. They interact with others, lunch with them, discuss cases and issues, and generally feel that they are still part of the legal community.
Millennials don’t find the same need for physical space, except for coworking spaces, and so the need for interacting with others is different. I know many senior lawyers who have relinquished office space (overhead reduction) and are working from home. It can work, but it’s important to catapult yourself out of that home office chair and into the world.
Technology has changed so many aspects of legal practice and in doing so has, I think, increased the social isolation that lawyers can and do feel. While I hated schlepping to an MCLE program after work, there were always others there that I knew, who were there because they had to be. Webinars have made physical attendance pretty much a thing of the past.
So, how do we combat social isolation if that’s a concern? Some of us play golf (not me) and/or play bridge (I am terrible at it), travel (see above for money concerns), hang out with families and friends. To those who want to still feel a part of the legal framework, if that’s important, there’s always pro bono work, but some lawyers don’t want the lawyering stress of even pro bono.
Whether we continue to practice, retire, go off in other directions, for all of us dinosaurs, when asked the inevitable question as to what we do, I think most will automatically say, “I’m a lawyer,” using the present tense. That’s who we have been and will always be.
Jill Switzer has been an active member of the State Bar of California for over 40 years. She remembers practicing law in a kinder, gentler time. She’s had a diverse legal career, including stints as a deputy district attorney, a solo practice, and several senior in-house gigs. She now mediates full-time, which gives her the opportunity to see dinosaurs, millennials, and those in-between interact — it’s not always civil. You can reach her by email at [email protected].
After Your Legal Career Is Over… republished via Above the Law
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Converting to Geothermal Energy – The New York Times
Thanks to temporary bans on new natural gas hookups in parts of New York, the market for single-family geothermal energy systems, which use underground pipes to harness the earth’s energy for heating and cooling buildings, is finally starting to make some inroads.
Geothermal energy systems use a network of underground pipes, commonly referred to as ground loops, which circulate water and propylene glycol, a type of nontoxic alcohol, all year. During the winter, the ground loops absorb the heat from the earth, which stays steady at about 50 degrees Fahrenheit. The heated liquid circulating in the loop is pushed into a pump system inside the house that then produces warm air. In the summer, the pump sucks out the warm air in the home and pushes it back into the cooler ground.
A convergence of factors, including a recently enacted state carbon emissions law, natural gas delivery constraints, and the availability of tax incentives and rebates, has persuaded some homeowners to replace their oil-burning furnaces or boilers with electric geothermal systems, instead of heating and cooling systems that run on natural gas.
“Geothermal is at a groundswell point,” for single-family homes, said David Logsdon, a section manager in Consolidated Edison’s Energy Efficiency and Demand Management department. “And it’s all part of the electrification of the industry.”
Westchester County, which includes some of the wealthiest ZIP codes in the state, has become a de facto testing ground for the state and the industry to persuade homeowners to adopt these air- and ground-source pump systems.
Con Ed, which announced its ban on new gas hookups in the county this spring because demand is outpacing gas availability, currently provides a $5,000 rebate for customers who buy a geothermal system from their partner Dandelion Energy. Combined with a rebate from the New York State Energy Research and Development Authority and a 30 percent federal tax credit, about $10,000 to $12,000 can be shaved off a system that can cost anywhere between $25,000 to $40,000 to purchase and install.
Adam Tucker, a Chappaqua, N.Y. resident, recently took advantage of the available savings to replace his oil-burning boiler that was over 30 years old. Mr. Tucker, an accountant, said he was floored when Con Ed gave him a $200,000 to $250,000 estimate (before the moratorium began) for him to switch over to natural gas. The hefty price tag included the cost for the digging and infrastructure work required to connect his home to the existing network.
“Who in the world would say yes to that?” Mr. Tucker said.
To look for a cheaper alternative, he started researching his options and came across Dandelion. With the available incentives, a $34,000 system was pared down to about $23,000.
Last winter, Dandelion and its partner companies took a few days to drill a hole about five inches in diameter and 500 feet deep right in front of his front steps to place the ground loops into the earth. Mr. Tucker’s system kicked in this January and he estimated that he has saved anywhere between $1,000 to $1,500 this year on his heating bill.
According to the U.S. Department of Energy, modern geothermal systems do not emit any greenhouse gasses.
“Yes, you do have to pay a chunk of money upfront, but you save money in the long term and it’s so efficient,” he said, who jokingly referred to himself as the “pied piper” of geothermal since he has told many of his friends and neighbors about his new system. “It’s really a neat option because it gets you off of oil.”
According to the Environmental Protection Agency, geothermal systems are about 48 percent more efficient than gas furnaces and 75 percent more efficient than oil furnaces. The U.S. Energy Department says consumers can cut their energy bills by up to 65 percent when compared to traditional heating and cooling systems.
For its part, Con Ed plans to spend more than $175 million over the next six years on programs and incentives for air- and ground-source heat pumps.
“If you’re going to have renewable energy be a primary source, then customers need choices,” Mr. Logsdon said.
Meanwhile, National Grid, which serves energy consumers on Long Island and in parts of Brooklyn and Queens, said its residential geothermal energy demonstration program in Riverhead, N.Y., has been so successful, that the utility is looking to expand its program. Pending regulatory approval, it seeks to install geothermal systems totaling 2,700 tons of capacity for a mix of residential and commercial properties. (Each single-family home typically requires the installation of a three- to five-ton capacity system.)
National Grid announced its temporary natural gas moratorium in May largely because the state denied permits for the construction of the 23-mile Williams Pipeline, a new natural gas pipe from Middlesex County, N.J., to Rockaway, Queens. Natural gas now comes from an existing pipeline that runs essentially the same route.
The utility in late 2017 installed a large shared geothermal system that was tapped by 10 homes in Glenwood Village, a retirement community in Riverhead. For the January to May 2018 heating season, each home saved about $283, or 38 percent, when compared to using propane or kerosene the previous year.
Owen Brady, manager of the Future of Heat program at National Grid, said the ground loops were as easy to install as the utility’s gas pipes and the savings each homeowner saw was compelling enough to seek an expansion.
“The system definitely does more with less,” he said.
Since starting her business in 2017, Kathy Hannun, the chief executive of Dandelion, said the firm has installed hundreds of systems throughout the state. Sales in Westchester County have grown by 20 percent every month since its deal with ConEd was announced in April.
“We’re now at the point where we need to invest more money into staff training to keep up with demand,” Ms. Hannun said.
Zachary Fink, owner of ZBF Geothermal in Commack, N.Y., echoed Ms. Hannun’s desire for additional skilled trade labor, noting that he’s on track to install 85 geothermal systems in homes on Long Island and Queens, twice the number compared to last year.
About a decade ago, Mr. Fink said he mostly got calls from eco-conscious clients. Now he’s getting inquiries from people looking for long-term savings and a “small but growing” number of people who do not have another option because of the temporary gas moratorium. He has also gotten calls from homeowners whose boilers were badly corroded by saltwater during Superstorm Sandy.
Susan Rowe Harrison said she was tired of the costly, yearly fixes she had to make on the 35-year-old gas-fueled boiler that was heating her three-bedroom house in Dobbs Ferry, N.Y. Looking for a smaller, energy efficient system, she talked to five heating and cooling companies before purchasing a Dandelion geothermal unit in April, which she financed with a 20-year loan.
Because the system runs on electricity, Ms. Rowe Harrison said her monthly electric bill between May and July rose by an average of $14, over the same period last year.
Even though a 30-foot crane was camped on her lawn for about a week during the drilling and installation process in April, Ms. Rowe Harrison said no one would know now that they had a geothermal system unless it came up in conversation.
“Even though you can’t see it, I feel like I made a significant investment in my home,” she said.
Sustainable Westchester, a nonprofit that encourages clean energy, sees many similarities between the current geothermal market and the area’s residential solar market about a decade ago.
“The way the market has taken off proves that the moratorium on natural gas availability does not mean the end of the world,” said Ron Kamen, a program director at the nonprofit.
For weekly email updates on residential real estate news, sign up here. Follow us on Twitter: @nytrealestate.
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The original tag was created by ReadLikeWildfire and Earl Grey Books!
I’m not someone who is fond of doing wrap-up posts, but I also feel that giving some sort of update about my first half of the reading year will make me happy. And hopefully, all you friends of mine are also interested to know about all the wonderful books I’ve read these past six months. And before I get started with the tag, let me give you a tiny overall update about my reading year and goals.
Goodreads Challenge: I’m upto 91/130 books.
1000 Followers on the blog: I’m at 982 right now, so hopefully I’ll reach my goal soon.
80% on Netgalley: I’m going steady at 85% and hope to keep it up.
Stars and Sorcery Book Club: I have actually read all our BOTM’s and I am very proud of it.
Around the Year in 52 Books: I’m at 44/52 but the remaining prompts are gonna be a bit tough.
Year of the Asian Challenge: My goal was to read between 21-30 books for this challenge and I’ve already finished 28 books, so I count this as a win too.
I’ve also never used charts and graphs to show my updates before, but everyone seems to be using them and they look awesome and colorful, so I’m gonna give them a try too.
As you can see, majority of my reads have been romances (which also tend to be contemporary) with fantasy coming closest second. I think I will also be happy if I can maintain around 10% for non-fiction till the end of the year.
This one definitely makes me feel very proud because almost half my books are ownvoices and I only hope this count increases as the year goes by.
This is definitely a bit unexpected because I love YA, but I seem to have gravitated towards reading more adult romances this year. Hopefully I can make similar inroads into adult fantasy in the latter half of the year.
This chart totally reflects me because I love reading ebooks and have also been trying to listen to more audios. What I didn’t realize was that I have been reading a lot more ARCs and I hope I continue to be approved for them.
A majority of my reads being 4 star and above surely shows that I have become a bit better at picking books that suit my taste. I surely hope I read many more 5 stars before the end of the year.
Now…. Let’s get started with the tag…!!!!!!!
💨 1. Best book you’ve read so far in 2019:
Well, it was a given that Red, White and Royal Blue was gonna be here because it was such a delight to read. But an unexpected addition to my best books of the year is the finale of the Bone Witch trilogy, The Shadow Glass because it’s one of the most emotional and satisfying conclusions I’ve read in quite a long time.
💨 2. Best sequel you’ve read so far in 2019:
I just couldn’t choose between Soul of the Sword and The Heart Forger because both of them are excellent and very action packed than their predecessors, and we also can’t help but fall in love with the characters more.
💨 3. New release you haven’t read yet, but want to:
These were some of my most anticipated book releases from the first half of this year. Now, I just have to find time to read them all.
💨 4. Most anticipated release for the second half of the year:
There are many many books on my most anticipated list for the upcoming months and I even listed many of them in this post, but one very recent announcement that has me excited is Rachel Maddow’s next. I really love watching her show and was pretty impressed by her other book Drift, so I’m very sure this one will be amazing too.
💨 5. Biggest disappointment:
I have other books which I gave lesser ratings to, but The Women’s War was more of a disappointment because I was expecting so much more from it, and it just didn’t have a lot of substance. On the other hand, I suddenly got the ARC for The Seduction Expert (which I wasn’t expecting) and read some rave reviews, so decided to give it a try – it turned out to be just downright awful.
💨 6. Biggest surprise:
While I was very excited to read We Set the Dark on Fire, I just didn’t expect to fall in love with it so much, and the world building was so amazing too.
I decided to pick up Magical Women on a whim because I wanted to know more about the sci-fi fantasy landscape in the Indian publishing industry and was pleasantly surprised by so many talented authors masterfully blending SFF tropes with Indian mythological elements.
The Priory of the Orange Tree was too intimidating and I didn’t think I would read it, but decided to take it up as a challenge and was very surprised by how easy it was to read. Definitely worth the size of it.
💨 7. Favorite new author (debut or new to you):
While I read some awesome debuts this year, I want to mention a new-to-me author Rin Chupeco. I knew the Bone Witch trilogy was supposed to be good but I was amazed beyond expectations because it was such a different kind of fantasy but highly impressive in all aspects, and also gave me one of my favorite OTPs of this year.
Reviews: The Bone Witch / The Heart Forger / The Shadow Glass
💨 8. Newest fictional crush:
I had to think a lot for this because apparently I don’t seem to have crushed on many characters this year. But one who comes closest is Zavier Demos, the pansexual aromantic rockstar drummer from Syncopation. He is talented, sexy and has a very cool head on his shoulders and I really enjoyed reading his story.
💨 9. Newest favorite character:
In this case, I actually couldn’t choose again because I have a lot of favorite characters this year but one who’s definitely impressed me the most is Yumeko from Shadow of the Fox. She is sweet, trusting, loyal and very brave and I completely adore her. Another one is Lady Tea from The Bone Witch. She has one of the best character developments I have ever read and she is the most loyal and loving person ever.
💨 10. Book that made you cry:
This is so easy to answer because there is no book that could make me cry more than The Song of Achilles. I remember sobbing in anticipation even before the inevitable happened. Another book that made me very emotional was Ghosts of the Shadow Market because it’s about Jem and he is one of my favorite characters from that universe, and reading his journey through so many tumultuous times made me weepy.
💨 11. Book that made you happy:
While Book Boyfriend might not make it to any all time favorite lists of mine, it made me very happy because it featured a romance author hero and a romance blogger heroine, and had so many relatable situations. The Candle and the Flame was a quiet and atmospheric fantasy but it made me happy because of it’s very inherently desi elements and reminded me a lot of home.
I don’t need any particular reason to love The Red Scrolls of Magic other than it being about Magnus and Alec and them being together makes me extremely happy. Sandhya’s books are always a delight to read but There’s Something About Sweetie is special because it features a happy fat brown girl and I could see so much of myself in her.
💨 12. Favorite Book to Movie you’ve seen this year:
I haven’t seen any movies but I eagerly awaited and watched the final season of Shadowhunters and wept when it finished. Whatever the detractors say, I really enjoyed watching this show a lot.
💨 13. Favorite post you’ve written this year:
I love writing reviews but I know I’m not that good at it like my other lovely blogger friends whom I’m in awe of. But a couple of reviews which I poured my heart into are Red, White and Royal Blue and Good Talk. I also loved writing the post about the Books that define my reading life.
💨 14. Most beautiful book you’ve bought so far this year (or received):
I mostly rely on my library and other subscriptions for reading books but one among my kindle purchases that is gorgeous is King of Scars – I adore the golden aesthetic. And after resisting all these months, I finally bought the paperback of Foundryside in June because it’s amazing both inside and out.
💨 15. What books do you need to read by the end of the year?:
There are obviously many new releases I want to read but these are two backlist books I wish I am able to read sometime this year. I feel I have put them off long enough.
💨 16. Favorite book community member:
I am actually very happy to have many book community friends these days, especially my dearest ones in the Book Dragons India discord group, but a very recent friend I’ve made is Liz @ Lost in Literature with Liz. Both of us have quite a few things in common and we love lamenting about the fact that we can never pick our next read or find the right motivation to continue. Do checkout her blog for amazing reviews and more interesting bookish discussions.
I am not tagging anyone but if you wanna give an update about your reading year, please consider yourself tagged and link back to me so that I can read all about it.
Half Yearly Check-In AND Mid-Year Book Freak Out Tag The original tag was created by ReadLikeWildfire and Earl Grey Books! I'm not someone who is fond of doing wrap-up posts, but I also feel that giving some sort of update about my first half of the reading year will make me happy.
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Keto-Mojo — The Most Accurate and Inexpensive Way to Determine if You’re in Nutritional Ketosis
youtube
Dorian Greenow, also known as Mister Mojo, is the cofounder of Keto-Mojo, viewed by many experts as the best strategy to measure your ketone levels. While ketones can be measured by blood, breath or urine testing, blood testing is the most accurate. The drawback has long been cost, which is what Greenow set out to change.
The Keto-Mojo ketone and blood glucose monitoring system is not only the most accurate way of testing your ketones, it's also far more affordable than other blood testing strips on the market.
Ketone Testing Methods
In all, there are three different methods available for measuring your ketones:
1. Urinalysis strips, designed for Type 1 diabetics, who need to avoid ketoacidosis. It's important to realize that ketoacidosis has nothing to do with nutritional ketosis.
As noted by Greenow, "Ketoacidosis should really be called glucoketoacidosis, because you can only have ketoacidosis if you have very high ketones, over 12 millimoles, and high glucose over 240." Urinalysis measures acetoacetate, one of three types of ketones.
"I like to think of [the ketones] as a group of singers," Greenow says. "You have the two ladies on either side, acetoacetate and acetone, and in the middle you have the big bass guy, beta-hydroxybutyrate, which represents 70 percent of the ketone bodies in the blood.
Acetoacetate gets spilled into the urine in the first stages of going into nutritional ketosis, because your body's mitochondria have not adapted to take advantage of those ketones. Once they do, those ketones are utilized by the body and not spilled. So even though you are in full ketosis, you may get a negative reading."
2. Breath analysis, originally designed for epileptic children. There are many cheap and substandard breath meters and only two of these types of devices with any degree of accuracy on the market, the Ketonix and the LEVL. The LEVL meter is very accurate, but at $600 plus a monthly calibration subscription it's also unnecessarily expensive.
3. Blood testing, is the gold standard and used in clinical trials and by doctors.
Greenow's Personal Story and the Making of Keto-Mojo
Greenow's journey began in 2015. At the time, he weighed 207 pounds and had all the telltale markers for metabolic syndrome. A friend, Todd White of Dry Farm Wines, told him about the ketogenic diet. In the end, Keto-Mojo grew out of Greenbow's own desire for a more affordable and accurate way to check his ketone levels.
"I cut my carbs. I kept them under about 30 grams. I was testing with an Abbott meter… [which costs] $4.50 per test. I could not understand why the strip was so expensive … I drew up a list of 100 different manufacturers across the globe [and] cross-matched that with the federal regulations of the 510(k) to make sure that they would have something that was legal within the United States.
I then approached all of these different manufacturers. Basically, the business plan was classic back-of-the-cocktail-napkin: [Create a] test [you can do] three times a day for less than the cost of a latte. We need to have affordable testing.
If we have affordable testing, people would know they're in a state of nutritional ketosis. What they get is this affirmation that the dietary choices they are making are right for their bio-individuality," Greenow says.
Greenow partnered with a manufacturer that has patents to do both ketones and glucose. "It was important for our meter to be able to do both, and to be able to get it at an affordable price," he says. Keto-Mojo launched in August 2017, selling keto testing strips at 99 cents per strip.
"Our goal is to really bring about a revolution in health care. I think we have one of the catalysts to be able to do that," he says. He describes his own health journey into a ketogenic lifestyle:
"Keto and yoga were the two things that I did … I had very little keto flu, because I was making use of proper supplements — potassium, magnesium and salt … bone broth, doing all of those classic things … My weight loss was a steady 1 to 2 pounds per week …
I found that I had a problem with sugar and alcohol through testing. With that, I don't do any keto cookies or bars or other things. I pretty much eat nice, clean, freshly made home-cooked food …
My weight dropped down until it got to its natural set point, which is between 165 pounds, if I'm really going hard on the yoga, and about 175 if I'm working a little bit too hard and not getting as much sleep … I keep my net carbs under 30 grams and like to have my ketones … between 1.1 and 1.7 … My protein is just really to a point of satiety …
I used to be on antidepressants for many years. Now, I'm not on any antidepressants. I find that when I'm in my personal zone of 1.1 to 1.7, that's where I'm at my best. I get my best mental acuity. My well-being is really good. I don't have those fits of despair or … anger that I used to get …
Most mornings I will skip breakfast … I'll just have a cup of tea in the morning with heavy cream, and then I'll gently sip on a Bulletproof coffee. At lunchtime, I'll have a couple of rollups of some meat and cheese and some veggies, and then a yoghurt mix … and then just one evening meal.
Sometimes I'll [do] intermittent fasting, just doing 16-8 [16 hours fasting, eating all meals within eight hours]. And then, usually about once a month, I try and do a therapeutic fast, which will be about a two- to three-day fast … to get that autophagy and apoptosis."
The Ketogenic Foundation
Greenow and his wife are also setting up The Ketogenic Foundation, a 501(c)(3) foundation. Their goal is to use some of the profits from Keto-Mojo to fund more ketogenic research. To help with this, they've also recently released a Bluetooth connector that allows you to download all of your ketone measurements onto your smartphone.
"Imagine a world where people are recording their macros through a Chronometer or a MyFitnessPal. They've got their weight put in there. They've got their glucose in there. They've got their ketones. They're calculating their glucose ketone index.
They've got their heartrate variability. They've got their Oura ring that has their sleep cycle on it. They pulled in all of their lab measurements. Suddenly, you have a dataset that is incredible for real proper epidemiological studies," he says.
Nutritional Ketosis Protects Against Neurological Degeneration
Greenow's grandfather and mother-in-law both had Alzheimer's disease, so he and his wife, Gemma, have personally witnessed the ravages of this neurological disease.
The good news is there's strong evidence that nutritional ketosis helps prevent the kind of neurodegeneration associated with Alzheimer's, Parkinson's and amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS), as well as many other chronic diseases, including many cancers, Type 2 diabetes, polycystic ovary syndrome (PCOS) and heart disease. Nutritional ketosis is also a powerful adjunct to cancer therapy.
"I was at the 6th Global Symposium on Ketogenic Therapies for Neurological Disorders on the island of Jeju in South Korea. We were listening to the science presented for not only epilepsy … but also for Alzheimer's and Parkinson's, and also seeing the ketogenic therapy used for schizophrenia, bipolar, attention deficit and hyperactive disorder and traumatic brain injury.
The stride that it's making is absolutely fantastic. When you are there for three to four days and listening to some incredible bright minds, you really do see the depth that food can make such a massive change in people's lives," he says.
I strongly recommend cyclical ketogenesis, where you intentionally increase your net carbs a couple of days a week, essentially cycling in and out of ketosis rather than staying in ketosis continuously. My latest version is something I call "ketofast," where higher-carb, higher-protein days are directly followed by an 18-hour fast. The meal that day is limited to 600 calories, and then you fast again for a full 24 hours.
Essentially, it's a 42-hour fast, and you can do that once or twice a week. You're going to lose about 4 or 5 pounds in water weight, which suggests you've got glycogen depletion, and your ketones rise dramatically, usually over 2 (or even higher if you take medium-chain triglyceride (MCT) or C8 oil).
Business Update
Just over a year into business, Keto-Mojo is doing well and recently finished their escalation of inventory. Greenow has been very careful about making sure his supply chain is derisked, to make sure he'll always have product on hand.
"Our challenge this year was making sure that we had sufficient inventory in Amazon and in our own warehouse to supply the entire United States," he says.
"We now have 90 days of the product available in the United States. Should anything happen, like a container or something falls off the ship, it's OK. We can get another container in. We can continue the mission …
As we get greater scale, we get more margin, and rather than take that margin as pure profit, we want to try and bring the price down on the strips. That will be our next challenge. We just finished another meeting with our manufacturer to see if we can find some efficiencies with them to bring [the price] down …"
On Amazon, Keto-Mojo is now the No. 1 selling glucose and ketone meter in the United States by a factor of five. Keto-Mojo also ensures the quality and accuracy of their strips by storing them in climate-controlled warehouses and shipping them in temperature-controlled packages, as they may be affected by heat. The Keto-Mojo strips are good for 18 months from the date of manufacture, or six months after opening.
The company is also starting to make inroads with researchers, and the Keto-Mojo meter and strips are currently being used in three different ketogenic trials, one for brain cancer, one for nonalcoholic fatty liver disease and a third for Type 2 diabetes.
"We are beginning to build a program now for different researchers who are approaching us," Greenow says. "This is the piece that bothers me the most actually, because when I'm talking to these researchers, they are telling me about how underfunded they are.
They have to look everywhere to get forms of cash. That's why we're setting up the foundation so that we can support the funding of these clinical trials. We're able to support in the form of meters and strips, so that we can have better science and clear science."
Next year, Keto-Mojo plans to release a next generation meter, which will be about the size of a stick of chewing gum and connects to your cellphone. They're also working on a two-in-one strip that will measure ketones and glucose simultaneously.
Testing Is the Best Way to Determine Whether You're Actually in Ketosis
How will you know if you're in nutritional ketosis? Over time, you'll learn your body and have a fairly good sense of where you are, but in the beginning, it's really helpful to test your ketones. For that, Keto-Mojo is really incomparable, as it provides the greatest accuracy at the lowest cost.
Both the Keto-Mojo ketone and glucose testing meter, and the blood ketone test strips, are available on Amazon and their website keto-mojo.com. Shipping is free on both sites. Next year, they're also releasing a second-generation meter.
"We're essentially taking our profit and putting it into research and development," Greenow says. "We're putting it into supporting clinical trials and science to better help the ketogenic community. I didn't see any of my competition doing that, because I just don't think they care."
That Greenow and his wife care about people's health and the ketogenic community is obvious. As for how they came up with the name, Keto-Mojo, Greenow says:
"I have to thank my wife for that one. The initial name of the company was Keto Check… Then we suddenly found out that name was already trademarked. We're driving back from yoga, going through lists of names. Gemma says, 'Keto Emoji,' then 'Keto Mojo.'
I was like, 'Oh, total Austin Powers, International Man of Mystery. Keto-mojo, baby!' and it just had more of an approachability to it. We essentially have a medical device, but we needed to make it approachable to everybody, not to be stodgy and staid, and to encompass a little bit of lifestyle. That's what we ended up with. So, a big nod to Mrs. Mojo, Gemma, for that one."
from HealthyLife via Jake Glover on Inoreader http://articles.mercola.com/sites/articles/archive/2018/11/25/keto-mojo-ketone-blood-glucose-monitoring-system.aspx
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Keto-Mojo The Most Accurate and Inexpensive Way to Determine if Youre in Nutritional Ketosis
Dorian Greenow, also known as Mister Mojo, is the cofounder of Keto-Mojo, viewed by many experts as the best strategy to measure your ketone levels. While ketones can be measured by blood, breath or urine testing, blood testing is the most accurate. The drawback has long been cost, which is what Greenow set out to change.
The Keto-Mojo ketone and blood glucose monitoring system is not only the most accurate way of testing your ketones, it's also far more affordable than other blood testing strips on the market.
Ketone Testing Methods
In all, there are three different methods available for measuring your ketones:
1. Urinalysis strips, designed for Type 1 diabetics, who need to avoid ketoacidosis. It's important to realize that ketoacidosis has nothing to do with nutritional ketosis.
As noted by Greenow, "Ketoacidosis should really be called glucoketoacidosis, because you can only have ketoacidosis if you have very high ketones, over 12 millimoles, and high glucose over 240." Urinalysis measures acetoacetate, one of three types of ketones.
"I like to think of [the ketones] as a group of singers," Greenow says. "You have the two ladies on either side, acetoacetate and acetone, and in the middle you have the big bass guy, beta-hydroxybutyrate, which represents 70 percent of the ketone bodies in the blood.
Acetoacetate gets spilled into the urine in the first stages of going into nutritional ketosis, because your body's mitochondria have not adapted to take advantage of those ketones. Once they do, those ketones are utilized by the body and not spilled. So even though you are in full ketosis, you may get a negative reading."
2. Breath analysis, originally designed for epileptic children. There are many cheap and substandard breath meters and only two of these types of devices with any degree of accuracy on the market, the Ketonix and the LEVL. The LEVL meter is very accurate, but at $600 plus a monthly calibration subscription it's also unnecessarily expensive.
3. Blood testing, is the gold standard and used in clinical trials and by doctors.
Greenow's Personal Story and the Making of Keto-Mojo
Greenow's journey began in 2015. At the time, he weighed 207 pounds and had all the telltale markers for metabolic syndrome. A friend, Todd White of Dry Farm Wines, told him about the ketogenic diet. In the end, Keto-Mojo grew out of Greenbow's own desire for a more affordable and accurate way to check his ketone levels.
"I cut my carbs. I kept them under about 30 grams. I was testing with an Abbott meter… [which costs] $4.50 per test. I could not understand why the strip was so expensive … I drew up a list of 100 different manufacturers across the globe [and] cross-matched that with the federal regulations of the 510(k) to make sure that they would have something that was legal within the United States.
I then approached all of these different manufacturers. Basically, the business plan was classic back-of-the-cocktail-napkin: [Create a] test [you can do] three times a day for less than the cost of a latte. We need to have affordable testing.
If we have affordable testing, people would know they're in a state of nutritional ketosis. What they get is this affirmation that the dietary choices they are making are right for their bio-individuality," Greenow says.
Greenow partnered with a manufacturer that has patents to do both ketones and glucose. "It was important for our meter to be able to do both, and to be able to get it at an affordable price," he says. Keto-Mojo launched in August 2017, selling keto testing strips at 99 cents per strip.
"Our goal is to really bring about a revolution in health care. I think we have one of the catalysts to be able to do that," he says. He describes his own health journey into a ketogenic lifestyle:
"Keto and yoga were the two things that I did … I had very little keto flu, because I was making use of proper supplements — potassium, magnesium and salt … bone broth, doing all of those classic things … My weight loss was a steady 1 to 2 pounds per week …
I found that I had a problem with sugar and alcohol through testing. With that, I don't do any keto cookies or bars or other things. I pretty much eat nice, clean, freshly made home-cooked food …
My weight dropped down until it got to its natural set point, which is between 165 pounds, if I'm really going hard on the yoga, and about 175 if I'm working a little bit too hard and not getting as much sleep … I keep my net carbs under 30 grams and like to have my ketones … between 1.1 and 1.7 … My protein is just really to a point of satiety …
I used to be on antidepressants for many years. Now, I'm not on any antidepressants. I find that when I'm in my personal zone of 1.1 to 1.7, that's where I'm at my best. I get my best mental acuity. My well-being is really good. I don't have those fits of despair or … anger that I used to get …
Most mornings I will skip breakfast … I'll just have a cup of tea in the morning with heavy cream, and then I'll gently sip on a Bulletproof coffee. At lunchtime, I'll have a couple of rollups of some meat and cheese and some veggies, and then a yoghurt mix … and then just one evening meal.
Sometimes I'll [do] intermittent fasting, just doing 16-8 [16 hours fasting, eating all meals within eight hours]. And then, usually about once a month, I try and do a therapeutic fast, which will be about a two- to three-day fast … to get that autophagy and apoptosis."
The Ketogenic Foundation
Greenow and his wife are also setting up The Ketogenic Foundation, a 501(c)(3) foundation. Their goal is to use some of the profits from Keto-Mojo to fund more ketogenic research. To help with this, they've also recently released a Bluetooth connector that allows you to download all of your ketone measurements onto your smartphone.
"Imagine a world where people are recording their macros through a Chronometer or a MyFitnessPal. They've got their weight put in there. They've got their glucose in there. They've got their ketones. They're calculating their glucose ketone index.
They've got their heartrate variability. They've got their Oura ring that has their sleep cycle on it. They pulled in all of their lab measurements. Suddenly, you have a dataset that is incredible for real proper epidemiological studies," he says.
Nutritional Ketosis Protects Against Neurological Degeneration
Greenow's grandfather and mother-in-law both had Alzheimer's disease, so he and his wife, Gemma, have personally witnessed the ravages of this neurological disease.
The good news is there's strong evidence that nutritional ketosis helps prevent the kind of neurodegeneration associated with Alzheimer's, Parkinson's and amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS), as well as many other chronic diseases, including many cancers, Type 2 diabetes, polycystic ovary syndrome (PCOS) and heart disease. Nutritional ketosis is also a powerful adjunct to cancer therapy.
"I was at the 6th Global Symposium on Ketogenic Therapies for Neurological Disorders on the island of Jeju in South Korea. We were listening to the science presented for not only epilepsy … but also for Alzheimer's and Parkinson's, and also seeing the ketogenic therapy used for schizophrenia, bipolar, attention deficit and hyperactive disorder and traumatic brain injury.
The stride that it's making is absolutely fantastic. When you are there for three to four days and listening to some incredible bright minds, you really do see the depth that food can make such a massive change in people's lives," he says.
I strongly recommend cyclical ketogenesis, where you intentionally increase your net carbs a couple of days a week, essentially cycling in and out of ketosis rather than staying in ketosis continuously. My latest version is something I call "ketofast," where higher-carb, higher-protein days are directly followed by an 18-hour fast. The meal that day is limited to 600 calories, and then you fast again for a full 24 hours.
Essentially, it's a 42-hour fast, and you can do that once or twice a week. You're going to lose about 4 or 5 pounds in water weight, which suggests you've got glycogen depletion, and your ketones rise dramatically, usually over 2 (or even higher if you take medium-chain triglyceride (MCT) or C8 oil).
Business Update
Just over a year into business, Keto-Mojo is doing well and recently finished their escalation of inventory. Greenow has been very careful about making sure his supply chain is derisked, to make sure he'll always have product on hand.
"Our challenge this year was making sure that we had sufficient inventory in Amazon and in our own warehouse to supply the entire United States," he says.
"We now have 90 days of the product available in the United States. Should anything happen, like a container or something falls off the ship, it's OK. We can get another container in. We can continue the mission …
As we get greater scale, we get more margin, and rather than take that margin as pure profit, we want to try and bring the price down on the strips. That will be our next challenge. We just finished another meeting with our manufacturer to see if we can find some efficiencies with them to bring [the price] down …"
On Amazon, Keto-Mojo is now the No. 1 selling glucose and ketone meter in the United States by a factor of five. Keto-Mojo also ensures the quality and accuracy of their strips by storing them in climate-controlled warehouses and shipping them in temperature-controlled packages, as they may be affected by heat. The Keto-Mojo strips are good for 18 months from the date of manufacture, or six months after opening.
The company is also starting to make inroads with researchers, and the Keto-Mojo meter and strips are currently being used in three different ketogenic trials, one for brain cancer, one for nonalcoholic fatty liver disease and a third for Type 2 diabetes.
"We are beginning to build a program now for different researchers who are approaching us," Greenow says. "This is the piece that bothers me the most actually, because when I'm talking to these researchers, they are telling me about how underfunded they are.
They have to look everywhere to get forms of cash. That's why we're setting up the foundation so that we can support the funding of these clinical trials. We're able to support in the form of meters and strips, so that we can have better science and clear science."
Next year, Keto-Mojo plans to release a next generation meter, which will be about the size of a stick of chewing gum and connects to your cellphone. They're also working on a two-in-one strip that will measure ketones and glucose simultaneously.
Testing Is the Best Way to Determine Whether You're Actually in Ketosis
How will you know if you're in nutritional ketosis? Over time, you'll learn your body and have a fairly good sense of where you are, but in the beginning, it's really helpful to test your ketones. For that, Keto-Mojo is really incomparable, as it provides the greatest accuracy at the lowest cost.
Both the Keto-Mojo ketone and glucose testing meter, and the blood ketone test strips, are available on Amazon and their website keto-mojo.com. Shipping is free on both sites. Next year, they're also releasing a second-generation meter.
"We're essentially taking our profit and putting it into research and development," Greenow says. "We're putting it into supporting clinical trials and science to better help the ketogenic community. I didn't see any of my competition doing that, because I just don't think they care."
That Greenow and his wife care about people's health and the ketogenic community is obvious. As for how they came up with the name, Keto-Mojo, Greenow says:
"I have to thank my wife for that one. The initial name of the company was Keto Check… Then we suddenly found out that name was already trademarked. We're driving back from yoga, going through lists of names. Gemma says, 'Keto Emoji,' then 'Keto Mojo.'
I was like, 'Oh, total Austin Powers, International Man of Mystery. Keto-mojo, baby!' and it just had more of an approachability to it. We essentially have a medical device, but we needed to make it approachable to everybody, not to be stodgy and staid, and to encompass a little bit of lifestyle. That's what we ended up with. So, a big nod to Mrs. Mojo, Gemma, for that one."
from http://articles.mercola.com/sites/articles/archive/2018/11/25/keto-mojo-ketone-blood-glucose-monitoring-system.aspx
source http://niapurenaturecom.weebly.com/blog/keto-mojo-the-most-accurate-and-inexpensive-way-to-determine-if-youre-in-nutritional-ketosis
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Roy Moore vs Doug Jones: What to watch for in Alabama's Senate race
Tuesday's Alabama special Senate election seems more like something out of a Will Ferrell comedy, but sadly, this is the state of America right now with Republican Roy Moore duking it out against Democrat Doug Jones. Moore's wife Kayla attracted some major headlines as she spoke at a rally Monday evening with this: And her comment which was quickly picked up everywhere. The fact that she had prepared this statement in advance says so much about their view of the world and how out of step they are with it. "Fake news says he doesn’t like women in leadership positions, yet he supports me as the president of the Foundation for Moral Law, that he started 15 years ago today. So happy birthday, Foundation for Moral Law. Our chairman is also a woman and a prominent officeholder in the bank, not to mention all of the women that work in our campaign, and there are many. Fake news would also have you think that my husband doesn’t support the black community. Yet my husband appointed the very first black marshal to the Alabama Supreme Court, Mr. Willie James. When he first took office as chief justice many years ago, he brought with him three people from Etowah County; two were black, and one of them is here tonight. We have many friends that are black, and we also fellowship with them in church and in our home. Fake news would tell you that we don’t care for Jews. I tell you all this because I’ve seen it all, so I just want to set the record straight while they’re here. One of our attorneys is a Jew. We have very close friends that are Jewish and rabbis, and we also fellowship with them." Alabama voters headed to the polls Tuesday in Alabama’s special Senate election and faced two choices: Either continue the “Trump miracle” in Washington or allow “decency” to prevail back home. At the center is Roy Moore — “Judge Moore,” to his supporters. The 70-year-old Republican was twice ousted as state Supreme Court chief justice after flouting federal law, and now he’s attempting a political resurrection amid accusations of sexual misconduct with teenage girls when he was in his 30s. In Moore’s path is Democrat Doug Jones, 63, a former U.S. attorney best known for prosecuting two Ku Klux Klansmen who killed four black girls in a 1963 church bombing. More than two dozen people stood in line in the chilly morning air early Tuesday morning at Legion Field, a predominantly black precinct in Birmingham, to cast their ballots in a stadium office. Blue-tinted posters of college football players and cheerleaders lined one wall, and about 20 Doug Jones posters were planted near the parking lot. “I do not want to see Roy Moore go in there. We don’t need a pedophile in there,” said Teresa Brown, 53, an administrative assistant at the University of Alabama at Birmingham who was voting at Legion Field. “We need someone that’s going to represent the state of Alabama, work across party lines ... just be there for all the people, not just a select few of the people.” Al Bright, 63, who does refrigeration repair, voted for Moore. “I just believe regardless of the allegations against him, I believe he is an honorable man,” Bright said. Bright said he realized some people criticize Moore because he was removed from office because of actions he took to try to block same-sex marriage in the state. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that because I believe in that as well,” he said. “I feel the same — marriage is between a man and a woman.” Mary Multrie, 69, who works at a children’s hospital and voted for Jones, said she was not influenced by accusations of sexual misconduct against Moore because she already did not like him. “He’s not a truthful man,” Multrie said of Moore. “He talks about God, but you don’t see God in his actions.” Alabama Secretary of State John Merrill said early Tuesday that turnout for the special election could be as high as 25 percent of registered voters. The winner will take the seat previously held by Attorney General Jeff Sessions. Republicans hold a narrow 52-48 Senate majority. A routine election in Republican-dominated Alabama wouldn’t be expected to alter that balance because Alabamians haven’t sent a Democrat to the upper chamber of Congress since 1992. President Donald Trump notched a 28-point win here in 2016 and remains popular in the state. But Moore’s baggage leaves the outcome enough in doubt that both Trump and his Democratic predecessor, Barack Obama, have weighed in with last-minute robocalls trying to sway voters. The intensity also has spawned a steady stream of fake news stories that fill social media feeds of interested people in Alabama and beyond. A media analysis, in cooperation with Facebook, counted as many as 200 false or misleading reports heading into the weekend. One website claimed one of the women who have accused Moore of sexual misconduct had recanted. She did not. Meanwhile, Moore’s detractors took to social media to claim he had written in a 2011 textbook that women shouldn’t hold elected office. He didn’t. In his final pitch before polls opened across the state at 7 a.m. CST Tuesday, Jones called the choice a “crossroads” and asked that “decency” prevail. “We’ve had this history in the past, going down the road that ... has not been productive,” Jones said. “We’ve lagged behind in industry. We’ve lagged behind in education. We’ve lagged behind in health care. It’s time we take the road that’s going to get us on the path to progress.” At his own election eve rally, Moore again denied all the allegations, calling them “disgusting” and offering voters a clear measure: “If you don’t believe in my character, don’t vote for me.” Earlier in the day, Moore cast himself as the victim. “It’s just been hard, a hard campaign,” he said. For Alabama, the outcome could be defining. Democrats and moderate Republicans see an opportunity to reject a politician who is already regular fodder for late-night television. Alabama’s senior senator, Richard Shelby, confirmed publicly that he wrote in a “distinguished Alabama Republican” rather than vote for Moore. Many Republicans, however, see an opportunity to defend the state’s conservative, evangelical bent in the face of unfair liberal criticism while delivering another victory for Trump and sending an anti-establishment senator into a federal government that has been reflexively unpopular among Alabama majorities for generations. Trump’s campaign architect and former White House adviser Steve Bannon told Moore supporters Monday evening the race is a “national election” that will determine whether the “Trump miracle” continues. Moore says he is aligned with the president and he makes similar arguments to Trump, blasting “the elite” in the “swamp” of Washington, D.C. For Jones to win, he must build an atypical coalition, maximizing turnout among African-American voters and white liberals who often don’t combine for more than 40 percent of the electorate, while coaxing votes from enough white Republicans who can’t pull the lever for Moore. One of Jones’ celebrity backers framed the choice as being much less complicated. “I love Alabama,” said Leeds native and former NBA basketball star Charles Barkley, “but at some point we’ve got to draw a line in the sand and say, ‘We’re not a bunch of damn idiots.’” As Alabama votes to fill the seat vacated by Attorney General Jeff Sessions, the choice between Republican Roy Moore and Democrat Doug Jones has taken on outsized significance. Moore has faced allegations of sexual misconduct with teenagers, dividing the GOP and giving Democrats hope of picking up a seat in a reliably red state. Here is what to look for in Tuesday night’s results: WHAT IS THE TRUMP DRAW? Alabama has once already proven the bounds of President Donald Trump’s political influence. He endorsed Moore’s GOP rival, Sen. Luther Strange, in the September primary, campaigning for him in Alabama hours before he was trounced by the state’s conservative voters. Now Trump has wagered a greater sum on Moore’s candidacy. The president resisted calls from his party’s senior leadership to abandon Moore after the sexual misconduct allegations surfaced. He directed the Republican National Committee to re-enter the race on Moore’s behalf, repeatedly attacked Jones, and recorded last-minute robo-calls on the Republican’s behalf. A GOP defeat in the deep-red state would speak to the limits of Trump’s ability to sway and motivate Republican voters. WILL DEMOCRATIC TURNOUT EFFORTS PAY OFF? In recent days, Democrats have pulled out the stops for Jones, including recorded calls from former President Barack Obama and visits from high-profile surrogates. They’re trying to boost turnout among those most likely to be aggravated by Moore’s controversial past, including black voters, and make inroads with suburban women_who proved to be pivotal to Democratic victories last month. Strong turnout and Democratic gains on both those fronts could point to trouble for Moore, and for the GOP going into next year. WILL DEMOCRATS END THEIR SPECIAL ELECTION BAD LUCK? Despite a ripe political climate, high-profile coverage, and huge injections of cash, Democrats are winless in five contests for vacant Republican congressional seats this year. All have been held in reliably Republican strongholds, but the defeats have still taken their toll on a party in a struggle for its identity. Wins in Virginia, New Jersey, and Maine in the November off-year election have provided some sorely-needed optimism for the 2018 midterms, and a Senate seat pick-up in Alabama would add pep to the party’s step. HOW WILL IT AFFECT RETIREMENTS? Sensing a difficult midterm election looming, 16 Republican members of the House and two in the Senate have already announced they will not run again next year. The retirement gap_only six Democrats in the House and one in the Senate have said they won’t run_can be an early indicator of what’s to come in a midterm election. (A more even split of retirements exists for lawmakers retiring from Congress to seek another office.) Republican leaders are anticipating more retirements on their side from lawmakers in competitive seats where members are facing challenging and expensive contests. A Democratic victory statewide in Alabama could foretell a dire year ahead for Republicans, which could send more Republicans to announce their departures on their own terms. WAS ROY MOORE WORTH IT? The Republican Party’s decision to maintain support for Roy Moore stands to be a defining choice for years to come. The party chose to embrace a one-time pariah for reasons of political expediency, and then doubled-down in the face of troubling allegations of sexual assault and harassment. For the president, it’s a matter of practicality_a loss would narrow the GOP’s thin majority in the Senate even further at a time when his agenda faces critical tests. But other Republicans worry it’s a short-term ploy that has sacrificed their moral authority, and that may come back to haunt them in the coming year. Republican lawmakers have spent the past months struggling to answer questions about Moore and his long history of divisive comments, and should he win, his presence will loom large in the Capitol and on the campaign trail. If Moore keeps the Senate seat in Republican hands, it may justify the backlash for some GOP officials. If he loses, the GOP has stuck by a candidate despite accusations of sexual impropriety, and who has alienated vast swaths of the electorate, with nothing to show for it.
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Masters 2017: Justin Rose, Sergio Garcia lead into final round at Augusta
(CNN)One's got a gold medal and wants a green jacket, the other just wants a major title.
Olympic champion Justin Rose and Spain's Sergio Garcia surged to the front on an absorbing afternoon at Augusta to take a one-shot lead over Rickie Fowler into the final round of the Masters Sunday.
Follow @cnnsport
England's Rose shot 67 and Garcia hit 70 to reach six under and overhaul long-time breakaway Charley Hoffman, who fell out of the lead for the first time since Thursday with a double bogey via the water at the 16th.
Another stroke adrift is the trio of 2015 champion Jordan Spieth -- proving the demons of last year, even Thursday's quadruple bogey, are long gone -- and fellow Americans Hoffman and Ryan Moore.
Australian Adam Scott, the 2013 champion, is poised at three under with 2011 winner Charl Schwartzel of South Africa one further back and England's Lee Westwood and debutant Thomas Pieters of Belgium the only other players under par at one under.
Behind Hoffman, the leaderboard shuffled with the frequency of the wheels on a Vegas slot machine Saturday, throwing up an intriguing prospect for the final round.
Rose has the benefit of a major title -- the 2013 US Open -- and Olympic gold under his belt. The 36-year-old played in the final group with Spieth in 2015, finishing second to the young American, and was tied 10th last year.
"You've got to be aggressive at times, there's certain pins you've got to take advantage of but this is a golf course you've got to pick your moments," Rose told Sky Sports. "That will be the gameplan."
Garcia, 37, part of a four-way share of the lead at halfway with Hoffman, Fowler and Pieters, is still chasing a first major title in his 74th attempt, a run which has included 22 top 10s.
Victory on Sunday would coincide with what would have been countryman Seve Ballesteros' 60th birthday. Ballesteros, who died in 2011, was the first European to win the Masters in 1980 and backed it up in 1983.
"It would be amazing, something difficult to describe but we still have one day to go. It's not going to be easy," Garcia told Sky Sports.
The Spaniard is engaged to be married later this year, and seems rejuvenated with a more positive mental attitude than perhaps at times in his career.
"I need to be extra patient, I need to not lose my head, stay calm no matter what happens and keep going in the same direction because it feels good," Garcia added.
READ: R1 -- Hoffman dominates on day one
READ: R2 -- Garcia, Fowler in leading quartet
READ: Danny Willett's guide to Amen Corner
READ: Tiger Woods -- 20 years of iconic images
READ: All you need to know about Augusta and the Masters
READ: Former champ Mize relives outrageous winning chip
Spieth's new experience
Fowler is also seeking his breakthrough major after four PGA Tour wins including this year's Honda Classic. The Californian, who finished top five in all four majors in 2014, has long since shed a reputation as just a clothes horse and will be a serious threat.
"It's probably the best I've ever felt in a major, no question about it," Fowler, 28, told Sky Sports.
He'll play alongside great friend Spieth, who has finished no worse than second on his three visits to Augusta.
The Texan was 10 shots adrift of Hoffman's lead after round one, largely courtesy of that nine on 15, but he has made steady progress through the field. His only blemish Saturday came with a three-putt bogey on the short 16th, his first bogey in 30 holes, to slip back to four under.
"We've really grinded it out to have a chance to win this tournament. It'll be fun having a new experience coming from behind," said Spieth, who squandered a five-shot lead on the 10th tee while bidding for back-to-back wire-to-wire titles last year.
"In order to win this golf tournament you have to play to win."
'Round of my life'
Barring one bad swing on the 16th -- perhaps his Jordan Spieth moment -- the 40-year-old Hoffman showed he has the mettle to contend, and has the experience of playing in the penultimate group in 2015 before finishing ninth.
Moore, 34, is a five-time Tour winner with two top 10s in majors, while Scott, Schwartzel and two-time runner-up Westwood form a formidable chasing pack.
The 25-year-old Pieters, who played a starring role for Europe in the 2016 Ryder Cup with four wins out of five matches, is bidding to become the first debutant since Fuzzy Zoeller in 1979 to win the Masters.
In all, 14 players will go into Sunday within six shots of the lead, including grand slam-chasing Rory McIlroy.
The Northern Irishman, who needs the Masters to become only the sixth player to complete the set of all four of golf's major titles, was unable to make any real inroads in a round of 71 Saturday for level par overall.
"I need to play probably the round of my life tomorrow to have a chance," McIlroy told BBC Sport.
Golf icons remember Arnold Palmer
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The biggest comeback after 54 holes is the eight shots retrieved by Jack Burke against the amateur Ken Venturi in 1956.
That should give some hope to the likes of 1992 champion Fred Couples, 57, who faded to one over, and three-time champion Phil Mickelson, who struggled to a two-over 74 Saturday and lies in a group eight back.
Mickelson, who will be 47 in June, is bidding to eclipse Jack Nicklaus as the oldest winner after his 1986 triumph at 46 and two months.
That year, Nicklaus' caddie -- his son -- wore the number 89.
Visit CNN.com/golf for more news and videos
That number this year? Garcia's man.
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Masters 2017: Justin Rose, Sergio Garcia lead into final round at Augusta
(CNN)One’s got a gold medal and wants a green jacket, the other just wants a major title.
Olympic champion Justin Rose and Spain’s Sergio Garcia surged to the front on an absorbing afternoon at Augusta to take a one-shot lead over Rickie Fowler into the final round of the Masters Sunday.
Follow @cnnsport
England’s Rose shot 67 and Garcia hit 70 to reach six under and overhaul long-time breakaway Charley Hoffman, who fell out of the lead for the first time since Thursday with a double bogey via the water at the 16th.
Another stroke adrift is the trio of 2015 champion Jordan Spieth — proving the demons of last year, even Thursday’s quadruple bogey, are long gone — and fellow Americans Hoffman and Ryan Moore.
Australian Adam Scott, the 2013 champion, is poised at three under with 2011 winner Charl Schwartzel of South Africa one further back and England’s Lee Westwood and debutant Thomas Pieters of Belgium the only other players under par at one under.
Behind Hoffman, the leaderboard shuffled with the frequency of the wheels on a Vegas slot machine Saturday, throwing up an intriguing prospect for the final round.
Rose has the benefit of a major title — the 2013 US Open — and Olympic gold under his belt. The 36-year-old played in the final group with Spieth in 2015, finishing second to the young American, and was tied 10th last year.
“You’ve got to be aggressive at times, there’s certain pins you’ve got to take advantage of but this is a golf course you’ve got to pick your moments,” Rose told Sky Sports. “That will be the gameplan.��
Garcia, 37, part of a four-way share of the lead at halfway with Hoffman, Fowler and Pieters, is still chasing a first major title in his 74th attempt, a run which has included 22 top 10s.
Victory on Sunday would coincide with what would have been countryman Seve Ballesteros’ 60th birthday. Ballesteros, who died in 2011, was the first European to win the Masters in 1980 and backed it up in 1983.
“It would be amazing, something difficult to describe but we still have one day to go. It’s not going to be easy,” Garcia told Sky Sports.
The Spaniard is engaged to be married later this year, and seems rejuvenated with a more positive mental attitude than perhaps at times in his career.
“I need to be extra patient, I need to not lose my head, stay calm no matter what happens and keep going in the same direction because it feels good,” Garcia added.
READ: R1 — Hoffman dominates on day one
READ: R2 — Garcia, Fowler in leading quartet
READ: Danny Willett’s guide to Amen Corner
READ: Tiger Woods — 20 years of iconic images
READ: All you need to know about Augusta and the Masters
READ: Former champ Mize relives outrageous winning chip
Spieth’s new experience
Fowler is also seeking his breakthrough major after four PGA Tour wins including this year’s Honda Classic. The Californian, who finished top five in all four majors in 2014, has long since shed a reputation as just a clothes horse and will be a serious threat.
“It’s probably the best I’ve ever felt in a major, no question about it,” Fowler, 28, told Sky Sports.
He’ll play alongside great friend Spieth, who has finished no worse than second on his three visits to Augusta.
The Texan was 10 shots adrift of Hoffman’s lead after round one, largely courtesy of that nine on 15, but he has made steady progress through the field. His only blemish Saturday came with a three-putt bogey on the short 16th, his first bogey in 30 holes, to slip back to four under.
“We’ve really grinded it out to have a chance to win this tournament. It’ll be fun having a new experience coming from behind,” said Spieth, who squandered a five-shot lead on the 10th tee while bidding for back-to-back wire-to-wire titles last year.
“In order to win this golf tournament you have to play to win.”
‘Round of my life’
Barring one bad swing on the 16th — perhaps his Jordan Spieth moment — the 40-year-old Hoffman showed he has the mettle to contend, and has the experience of playing in the penultimate group in 2015 before finishing ninth.
Moore, 34, is a five-time Tour winner with two top 10s in majors, while Scott, Schwartzel and two-time runner-up Westwood form a formidable chasing pack.
The 25-year-old Pieters, who played a starring role for Europe in the 2016 Ryder Cup with four wins out of five matches, is bidding to become the first debutant since Fuzzy Zoeller in 1979 to win the Masters.
In all, 14 players will go into Sunday within six shots of the lead, including grand slam-chasing Rory McIlroy.
The Northern Irishman, who needs the Masters to become only the sixth player to complete the set of all four of golf’s major titles, was unable to make any real inroads in a round of 71 Saturday for level par overall.
“I need to play probably the round of my life tomorrow to have a chance,” McIlroy told BBC Sport.
Golf icons remember Arnold Palmer
Replay
More Videos …
MUST WATCH
The biggest comeback after 54 holes is the eight shots retrieved by Jack Burke against the amateur Ken Venturi in 1956.
That should give some hope to the likes of 1992 champion Fred Couples, 57, who faded to one over, and three-time champion Phil Mickelson, who struggled to a two-over 74 Saturday and lies in a group eight back.
Mickelson, who will be 47 in June, is bidding to eclipse Jack Nicklaus as the oldest winner after his 1986 triumph at 46 and two months.
That year, Nicklaus’ caddie — his son — wore the number 89.
Visit CNN.com/golf for more news and videos
That number this year? Garcia’s man.
Read more: http://cnn.it/2ofE33u
from Masters 2017: Justin Rose, Sergio Garcia lead into final round at Augusta
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