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#this is “concentrate your efforts on the most immediate threats whenever possible”
kaurwreck · 2 months
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The average American's ignorance of federalism and the separation of powers is going to fuck us on child online protection legislation if the same energy that is going towards KOSA isn't dedicated towards state legislatures too.
The federal efforts towards KOSA have moved much more slowly than state efforts, and Section 301 of KOSA is drafted with language that permits much more restrictive state legislation because Congress is trying to avoid preempting the 23+ child online protection bills already passed by states, and the many more being considered by states.
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nillegible · 4 years
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It wasn't supposed to hurt him. Ouyang Zizhen had used the talisman before, on his sister and his sister's idiot fiance (Now he was her fiance. Before the talisman, he'd just been a shixiong who absolutely refused to confess his feelings to her). In retrospect perhaps it was unkind. A talisman that was meant to force you to confess what you were hiding from the other person? Jiujiu would have smacked him for even thinking about using it.
Jin Ling would punish himself if it would help, would do anything, to snap the talisman, or to get his stupid uncle to just say his stupid secret, because right now?
Right now, his uncle is choking on his secret, literally forcing it down by strength of will alone while Wei Wuxian flutters around desperately, trying to destroy the talisman and Hanguang Jun plays his guqin. The spiritual energy from the Lan musical technique is so heavy that Jin Ling's skin buzzes with every note, and it's even more concentrated on the three older cultivators, visible threads of it sparking over their skin.
Jiujiu still looks like he is in agony, breaths harsh and ragged, choking, his face screwed up, twisted, awful.
"Jiang Cheng please, please, just spit it out, I don't care what you still blame me for, I don't care just say it," Wei Wuxian begs, but it's no use, his uncle shakes his head no, and Jin Ling covers his own mouth to stifle a sob. He hadn't listened when Jin Ling begged, either.
It's such a simple talisman, so terribly simple a compulsion that it's not meant to be fought or broken. Powered by the strength of the secret and the spiritual energy of the person it was affixed to… Jin Ling hadn't known it was possible to even try.
"Jiang Wanyin," says Hanguang Jun. He has to say it again to get his uncle's attention. "Let me help." His uncle stares blearily for a few moments, then nods again. Abruptly, even the gasping choked off noises break off, and Jin Ling rushes closer, but he's okay. He's still okay, slumping a little and leaning onto Wei Wuxian in exhaustion, but alive.
"Wei Ying," says Hanguang Jun, and apparently that means something to his other uncle, because Wei Wuxian immediately turns his attention back to paper he'd been scribbling on, and continues.
It takes Wei Wuxian a full hour more to break the compulsion, for his uncle to collapse sideways like a broken puppet onto him, and cough up mouthfuls of blood while Wei Wuxian rubs his back. "Thank you, Hanguang Jun," says Jiujiu.
Then he looks up at Jin Ling, who is frozen in place, not sure if he should run or fall to his knees and apologize, and holds out a hand. Jin Ling throws himself forward and hugs his uncle sobbing his apologies. "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry."
“Stupid,” Jiujiu says, voice hoarse, but he doesn’t let go of Jin Ling until he falls unconscious, and Wei Wuxian disentangles him from the half embrace – Jiujiu’s other arm was clutching Wei Wuxian’s robes, tightly – and lifts him into his arms.
“He’ll be okay, right?” asks Jin Ling, a bit pathetically. This was all his fault, after all.
“Jiang Cheng will be fine,” says Wei Wuxian.
When Jin Ling thinks back to this moment, he will realize that Wei Wuxian sounded oddly broken, not just tired.
*
It turns out that Jin Ling had actually ruined everything. He’d been sure that his uncles cared for one another, he’d watched the weird way they held each other at arm’s length but seemed desperate for more, and only wanted to help them out. Whatever it is they were keeping a secret couldn’t be worth it right? Wei Wuxian was back from the dead. He was, not Jin Ling’s mom or dad or anyone else. Jin Ling had only wanted them to make the most of it.
Instead, all Jin Ling does is show Wei Wuxian that Jiujiu has some giant terrible secret that he would rather tear his lips bloody trying to suppress than admit to, and Wei Wuxian seems to give up. He’s cautious around Jiujiu after that, He’s polite. And that only makes Jiujiu angrier and frostier in turn.
This is not what had happened to Ouyang Zizhen’s sister and her husband! (They’d gotten married in the spring, Jin Ling had even gone to their wedding.)
Perhaps Jin Ling should have considered what would happen if the secret was a bad one.
“Would you tell me?” asks Jin Ling. He’s treading on dangerous ground here. Jiujiu hasn’t punished him for the stunt ( “You’re a Sect Leader now, brat, you pick your own consequences,” he’d said, and Jin Ling had assigned himself a lot more make sure Jiujiu is recovering okay missions, whenever he could make the time) and he doesn’t want to remind him to.
“Of course not,” he snaps, Zidian sparking in hollow threat on his finger. At least he scowls? When Jiujiu isn’t busy being angry, he’s been strangely melancholy, recently. Jin Ling hates that, too.
*
It’s Hanguang Jun that Jin Ling approaches in the end. Oddly, he’s the one who’s angriest at him, Wei Wuxian had just waved off his apologies and asked him to introduce him to the maker of the talismans, and never mentioned it again.
“I really am sorry,” Jin Ling tells him. “I want to know how to fix it.”
Hanguang Jun is silent for a long time, and Jin Ling braces himself for dismissal, to be told he can’t, that it was his fault in the first place, he should stay away from Hanguang Jun’s husband.
“It is hard to speak when you are afraid,” Hanguang Jun observes. Which, what? Yes, of course. But why now? Jin Ling nods uncertainly. “Why should Jiang Wanyin be afraid of Wei Ying?”
Oh. Huh? “He’s not, he’s never…” Jin Ling trails off, uncertain. He’d grown up secure in the knowledge that Uncle Jiang would protect him from the evil Yiling Patriarch. That he wasn;t afraid of him. Things were apparently far more complicated than that, but Jiujiu had never been afraid of Wei Wuxian. So why wouldn’t he tell the secret. What did he think his secret would do, that hasn’t happened already? They barely even look at each other anymore! Hanguang Jun just keeps his steady gaze on Jin Ling, waiting for an answer. “Um. He was afraid… to hurt him?” asks Jin Ling.
He gets a slight nod in affirmation.
“You’d think Senior Wei would know all the awful things already,” Jin Ling says, quietly. Wei Wuxian’s life kind of sucked.
“Sometimes, it isn’t the terrible things that hurt,” says Hanguang Jun.
Jin Ling peers at him closely. “Does Hanguang Jun know my uncle’s secret?” he asks.
“No,” he says, and explains nothing further. “And Wei Ying does not.” He looks up then, over Jin Ling’s head, towards the door. “Wei Ying does not need to know, if he trusts Jiang Wanyin.”
Wei Wuxian laughs, lightly. “Who would have thought Lan Zhan would be defending Jiang Cheng some day, hm?”
“He’s right, Wei Qianbei,” Jin Ling hurries to say. “Jiujiu cares for you. He says awful things, he’ll say, ‘You’re a stupid brat, who raised you, I should break your legs’ but he doesn’t mean any of it. Except maybe the stupid part.”
Wei Wuxian laughs again, then drops a hand to Jin Ling’s head. “I know, A-Ling,” he says, the name sounding so fond when he says it. “He’s my brother, and that part of him hasn’t changed.”
“He hasn’t changed,” says Jin Ling, fiercely. Jiujiu is the only constant in Jin Ling’s life, he wouldn’t just become something else.
“He has though,” says Wei Wuxian softly. “He’s all grown up, now. The last time I saw him, he was little older than you. And look at him now, keeping secrets from his shixiong.”
“I don’t believe he ever called you that,” says Jin Ling, because his nose is sour and he doesn’t want to cry.
“No, no, you’re right, he didn’t,” says Wei Wuxian, a little more cheerfully.
*
They put themselves back together slowly. Wei Wuxian makes an effort to reach out again, far more determined this time. With some pointed nudging from Jin Ling, Jiujiu tries his best to meet him half way.
It’s not easy. There is. There is so much between them that Jin Ling will never understand, broken promises and dead family, and debts that can never be repaid.
It shouldn’t be possible, to put all of that aside and start anew. Especially not for Jiujiu, who held his grudges forever, and didn’t quite believe in second chances.
They had once been the twin prides of Yunmeng though.
They don’t care that it shouldn’t be possible.
They do it anyway.
[Inspired by this post because holy shit I love Yunmeng Pride reconciliation fics so incredibly much, but it’s not always about divulging that secret really, is it? I just wanted to write one which is definitely about that secret but also not if that makes any sense. I’m not sure if I succeeded, if I confused you I apologize.]
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frenemies-to-lovers · 4 years
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The Glint of Your Blade | Jurdan Fluff (Jude POV)
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Just some Jude/Cardan fluff inspired by the Folktober 2020 prompt (I am phenomenally late to the party). Set after QON. There’s some sparring, some magic, and some making out.  
((One-shot. 3820 words. Just fluff.  Heat level: somewhere between mild and medium))
[Read on AO3]
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“I thought I might find you here,” Cardan’s familiar voice says from behind me, startling me and breaking my concentration. I lower Nightfell and turn to face him.
“You could have tried to make a little noise when you entered the room. It isn’t wise to startle someone with a sword in their hand,” I say, pushing my sweat-dampened hair out of my face.
“Perhaps. But you didn’t so much as point it at me, so perhaps I needn’t worry whether you’re armed or not,” he grins.
“Don’t think I wouldn’t stab you,” I retort. He merely hums in response, and I wonder what the truth is. Whether he believes I would or I wouldn’t, he’s unwilling to say.
He takes a step closer and I notice that his face is bare of it's usual golden shimmer and he’s wearing a plain black cloak. He must have had some time to wash and change before heading down to the Court of Shadows, where I’ve been practicing my swordsmanship since I left the brugh after dinner.  Leaving Cardan to the revelry on his own.
“Are you planning on sneaking out this evening?” I ask, sweeping the tip of my sword up to point out his attire.
“Only if you wish to. I came to see if I could lure you away. You’ve been down here for quite some time,” he says.
That makes me smile. That he missed me.
“I didn’t realize,” I say honestly. “I’m having a hard time unwinding.” Despite having no immediate threats, court politics are always stressful.  There are always dangers lurking throughout Elfhame, and I worry that I cannot anticipate them all.
“Why aren’t you sparring with The Ghost?” he asks.
“I sent him home. I knew he’d rather be spending time with Taryn. And every time we spar lately, I can’t stop thinking about the fact that he’s probably old enough to be our father but he’s also my sister’s... boyfriend? It’s distracting. And kind of gross,” I say, making a face. He laughs.
“Then why not just drink some wine to ease your tension like the rest of us do?” I know he is teasing. I still haven’t developed a taste for alcohol, and do not drink beyond making toasts at feasts and revels.
“I needed to burn off some nervous energy. Wine doesn’t really help with that,” I answer.
“I know something that can help burn off that nervous energy,” Cardan murmurs, voice all honey and silk. He raises a black eyebrow and gives me his most mischievous grin. A sudden spike of heat rushes through me, and I know my face is flushed.
It has been months since I returned to Elfhame, since Cardan was cursed and then restored, since we began ruling together. Since we began sleeping together, and sharing the royal chambers. Since it became public knowledge that we are married -- something that is definitely still weird if I think about it too hard. The better part of a year has passed, and I still get a little flustered whenever he’s particularly forward. It probably encourages him, actually.
Not that I mind it. Not really.
“How about… I’ll try your way if you can disarm me.” I nod at the rack of weapons on a wall of the training room. My training room.
The Roach told me that it was something Cardan had insisted on for the new Court of Shadows. For me. Cardan and I had never actually talked about my training habits, but he must have made some assumptions about them based on what he had seen, what he had known. Those assumptions had made me feel truly and completely seen.
“My way?” That mischievous grin seems to grow wider. “Very well, Jude.”
Cardan goes to the rack, removing and hanging up his cloak before retrieving his sword -- his own sword, made for him by the newest resident smith at the palace. I was a little surprised when he had  recruited my help in having it commissioned for him, as I knew he wasn’t partial to swordplay.
He had responded by telling me that perhaps he would find it more interesting with an instructor he was fond of looking at.
He turns back toward me and slices his sword through the air in large, sweeping strokes and then smaller ones. I catch myself looking him up and down as he moves. He is wearing plain black clothing, but it is still perfectly tailored to his frame. He catches my eye and I know he caught me staring, that he knows I wasn’t even thinking about critiquing his form. He grins at me again, and I glare back at him.
“Are you ready, then?” I ask, trying to sound detached.
He takes another few passes with his sword, these ones more purposeful.  His skills with a blade are improving, but he still has a long way to go.  He seems to sense the same thing in those few movements.
“I may have been a little overconfident in agreeing to your terms.  How about we spar until I get under your guard, rather than disarming you?” he asks.
You’re always under my guard. The thought comes to me unbidden, comforting and startling in equal measure. Rather than say that, I try to appear as though I am considering his proposal.
“Alright,” I finally respond. “As a reward for your humility in acknowledging my superior swordsmanship, I will accept your terms.”
“Very generous, my queen,” he says, giving me a small bow and taking up a ready position.  
I step toward him and raise Nightfell.  His gaze sweeps over me slowly, his face full of determination and desire. I feel the force of his attention like a caress, intimate and possessive.  I find my cheeks heating, unsure if his reaction is sincere or if it is an attempt to throw me off balance before we even begin.
I clear my throat.
“Are you quite done ogling me?” I raise an eyebrow as his eyes meet mine.
“I wasn’t ogling. I was. . . admiring your form.” He grins and lets his eyes wander again.  I’m pretty sure there’s a blush all the way to my toes, but I refuse to be distracted by it.  I hate that he knows how to use his charm on me, and that I’m responsible for the fact that he views it as a weapon to be wielded.
“Let’s begin, then,” I say.
Because his sword is at the ready, I don’t give him any other warning before I advance. I take a cautious swing to test his reflexes, neither as fast nor as strong as I know he is capable of deflecting.  He blocks it effortlessly and I am pleased that he was still paying enough attention to be ready for my attack.
He does not return to a defensive position as I expect, but immediately presses into the offense.  He swings quickly, but I parry. I see him ready to strike again and step out of his reach, allowing him to waste the effort.  There are two ways I usually win with Cardan: I either let him tire himself out with repeated attempts to land a blow, or I tire him out by putting him on the defensive until he makes a mistake.  
Since we have been practicing regularly, he has the skill to hold his own in a sparring match, but not the stamina. He has gotten strong, but he still moves a half a beat too slowly, still having to think about what he will do before he moves.  My own body reacts more automatically, a lifetime of training and practice informing my steps without conscious thought.
He swings and jabs and strikes, over and over again.  I deflect and parry and avoid his attacks, watching as the effort begins to take its toll on him.  His breath is coming more rapidly, and his face is beginning to slip just a little.  While he never wears the haughty expression I am used to seeing him deploy in public, he tries to keep his face cool and neutral when we spar.  Now he looks intently focused on our battle, his eyebrows furrowed just a little in frustration.
“You seem to be tiring, my king,” I say, twisting away from him as he tries to press me backward toward the wall. “Are you ready to concede?”
His movements have become slower, his strike not as powerful as it was when we began.  To his credit, I am also moving more slowly and my hair is damp with sweat. Each of his movements seems to be taking more and more concentration.
“Perhaps, my queen.” He strikes, and I block his blow but he continues pressing, our blades locked together.  He presses forward and brings his face in as close as possible while avoiding the path of our crossed swords.  He gives me a coy smile.  “But I will save enough strength to ensure you’re properly spent before we’re finished.”
He withdraws his sword and readies to strike again. I automatically move to avoid the blow, but I am surprised to find myself falling backward. I bring my sword arm up in defense as I hit the hard packed earth of the floor. My free arm and hip are going to be bruised from the impact. I look down and see a vine coiled around the toe of my boot.
A cheap move, but effective.
Much like some of my own best moves.
He is turning out to be a much more apt pupil than I anticipated. He may have a lot to learn about swordplay, but he is an excellent strategist.
I look up, trying to school my expression away from wide-eyed shock to something more menacing. He is advancing on me slowly, his sword still raised, but he isn’t moving quickly enough to press his advantage. If he thinks he can best me by tripping me, he’s going to be sorely disappointed.
I point my toe and begin to pull my foot out of my boot, but as I go to move my body, I realize too late that there are more vines sprouting up from the floor. I try to scramble backward, but there are too many and I am caught around my legs, my hips, and the arm I landed on when I fell.
Cardan wasn’t being cocky with his slow advancement, he was using my moment of confusion to continue focusing on using his magic.  I’ve never seen him do that before, invoke his connection to the land without his full attention.
I move to cut myself free from the encroaching vines with my sword, but the creeping plants have finally reached up my side and are beginning to pull even my sword arm down. I am well and truly trapped. Cardan tosses his sword to the side and stands above me for a moment, one side of his mouth lifting in a rakish grin that is taunting and beautiful. I am propped up on my elbows, vines covering my body, holding me in place. My hand still grips Nightfell uselessly.
“Clever,” I admit. “The initial maneuver was a distraction to buy you enough time for the finishing move. You’ve been paying attention.”
His grin widens, bright and mischievous.
“You haven’t seen my finishing move yet,” he says, kneeling over me, one of his legs between mine. He pulls Nightfell from my hand. To his credit, he doesn’t toss it aside the way he did with his own, but gently places it behind him, far out of my reach.
He turns back to me and my heart speeds at his proximity.
“I seem to have won,” he says, eyes dragging down my pinned form and then back up. Then, movements slow, he leans over me and the moment stretches until his soft mouth brushes mine. A ghost of a kiss.  
“This hardly feels like losing,” I breathe against his lips. He lets out a laugh as he kisses me again.
I feel the vines around my arms loosen, although the ones around my torso begin to tug at me. Cardan slips his hand beneath my head and he lays me down gently, using his magic as an extension of himself.  His mouth continues to move against mine as I yield, my back against the floor. His kisses are still soft. A question. A plea. He pulls back momentarily and searches my flushed face.
My arms fully freed, I trace a line from his hand to his shoulder then sink my fingers into his curls.  I look into his black eyes, his pupils blown wide with desire.  
“Is this okay?” he asks in a whisper. He knows how much I dislike being out of control, and his asking makes me feel safe.
I nod, and tighten my fingers in his hair, pulling him back to me, kissing him hard. I bite his lower lip and I feel his arm move underneath me, clutching me tighter, pressing my body closer into his. The vines are still coiled around me from the waist down, rendering me unable to shift my hips against him the way my body wants to.  
As he trails kisses down the column of my throat, I glance down and see flowers budding and blooming everywhere.  Tiny, fragrant blooms in every shade of red, from crimson so dark it is almost black, to the faintest pink. I can feel them now.  Not just the physical touch against my body, but the sensation of them brushing up against my own connection to the land.
Cardan can sense that something has changed, and he begins to pull away and rise to his knees.  His breathing is ragged and his hair is a mess.
“Don’t stop,” I say, fisting a hand in the front of his shirt and yanking him back toward me.  He looks briefly surprised but allows me to tug him down, bracing his hands on either side of my head.  “I was just. . . distracted by the flowers.  I’m okay.”
His eyes scan the floor around me, the vines still holding me around the waist, pinning down my legs. He looks surprised to see them covered in blooms.
“I didn’t even mean to do that,” he admits.  That makes me give a short laugh.
“You do that on accident kind of a lot,” I say.  
My hand is still clenched in the fabric of his shirt and I pull him down further, our mouths sliding together again.  
“You seem rather unperturbed by being rendered defenseless,” he whispers between kisses. His mouth moves back to my neck, leaving a trail of burning kisses down to my collarbone “You must like being at my mercy.”
I hum noncommittally and angle my chin to give him better access. I focus again on feeling him, feeling his magic through the connection we both share with the land.  I peek down at him briefly, and see that he is totally lost in the moment, eyes closed and cheeks flushed.
“You know what I like even better?” I ask, unclenching my hand from the front of his shirt and slowly raking it down his chest, brushing my fingertips down the flat plane of his stomach. After a perilously long descent, I finally hook a finger inside the waist of his pants.  His eyes flash up to mine and I feel the heat, the intensity like a physical blow.
“Tell me,” he demands, voice rough.
“Winning,” I say with a grin.  
With my other hand, I swiftly pull the dagger from my boot and hold the flat of the blade against his throat.  He doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe as the vines fall away from my body.
“Your distraction was better than mine,” he says, grinning. “Although a different opponent would not be able to escape so easily.”
“I’m glad you thought that was easy.  I still have difficulty calling on the land. And it doesn’t like to work against you,” I say.  
“It doesn’t like to work against you, either. But I, unlike you, always have the purest of intentions.”
I raise an eyebrow and open my mouth to argue, but he cuts me off.
“I merely sought to disarm you.  You’re the one holding a knife to my throat,” he points out.
“This is just a reminder that you didn’t disarm me. I’m not even touching you with any of the sharp parts,” I protest.  
I begin to pull the knife away, but his hand shoots to my wrist and holds it there.
“Don’t,” he says, his head dipping down again, his forehead coming to rest against mine. He turns my hand and brings the razor-shape edge into just the barest contact with his skin.
“This,” he whispers, letting go of my wrist but not pulling away at all as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, “the glint of your blade, the edge of your dagger against my throat . . . it brings back a very fond memory.”
“You really do have depraved tastes.” I kiss him then, remembering that first kiss as our mouths collide and I hold my blade still against his neck. It is different now, of course.  It doesn’t feel as dangerous, but the desire is still just as potent as it was the first time. Maybe more potent now that he knows exactly how to kiss me, exactly where to touch to elicit the fastest and most powerful responses from me.  I expect him to make one of those moves now, but his kiss remains gentle.
A little frustrated at being one-handed, I stab my knife into the dirt floor. Cardan chuckles at the sound and pulls back. He looks at me with a kind of reverence, bringing a hand to cup my face and brushing his thumb back and forth across my cheekbone.
“Are you ready to go tire yourself out my way?” he asks softly. I don’t trust my voice, so I just nod and plant another kiss on his soft mouth before he rises.  
He offers me his hand, and I allow him to help pull me to my feet. I pluck my dagger from the earth, and put it back in my boot, then retrieve Nightfell and return it to the scabbard at my hip.  Cardan has returned his sword to its rightful place and pulled on his cloak.  He holds up another cloak, as though to help me into it.
“That seems like overkill when we have direct access to our chambers,” I say.
“We aren’t going to our chambers,” he responds, mischief lighting his face again. I know he wants me to ask, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction. Instead, I let him envelop me in the dark fabric.
We pull up our hoods and I follow him out of the Court of Shadows and through the secret passageways beneath the palace. I know these tunnels just as well as he does, but I am surprised to find him leading me to a secret entrance to the Great Hall. Cardan cracks the door and peers out. I can hear music and chatter, the revel still carrying on in the hours since we left.
He grabs me by the hand and pulls me out, but we stick to the shadows as we make our way around the back of the dais.  I try to move as silently as Cardan as I follow him to what I now think of as our secret room, the doorway covered in ivy.  He barely brushes it aside and opens the door only far enough for both of us to slip inside.
Before I can even react to what I assume he’s brought me here for, he grabs me around the waist and pulls my body close to his. But instead of pulling me in for a kiss, I realize he's pulled me in for a dance. His other hand is grasping my own and his feet are already beginning to move to the sound of the music from outside.
I lift my eyes to his and find him grinning down at me.
“My way,” he says as he leads me gracefully around the little room.  
For as long as I have been teaching him the sword, he has been teaching me skills I thought would be useful to me as the queen.  Dancing is one of them.
I have found that knowing the steps to a dance makes it easier to stay a little more in control, even when I get swept up by the compulsion of faerie music.  Although I still cannot pull myself out of a dance once it has begun, I can choose my own steps rather than feeling as though the music is making them for me. When I do so, I am able to feel more of the exhilaration of the dance, and less of the dread.
At revels now, Cardan always looks for my signal at the end of any dance for which he is not my partner.  If I touch my ruby ring, he will make his way toward me, cut in to dance with me, and pull me out of the crowd.  Knowing that he is watching, knowing that he will always get me out if I am overset, is yet another way Cardan has helped me overcome some of the powerlessness I have felt all my life.
The music that I hear coming through the wall now is faint enough that it has hardly any pull on me.  I could stop if I wished, but instead I try to feel the dance the way I felt the steps when we were sparring.  Our skills are reversed here, Cardan gliding through the steps without any thought at all, while my movements are just slightly delayed -- the product of my having to consciously think about what comes next.
For a while, we continue dancing without much conversation.  He says nothing when I make a misstep, simply leads me through it with the poise of someone who has done this his whole life.  
The music outside grows quieter and slower, even the revelry beginning to die down. Cardan pulls me in close enough for me to lean my head against his shoulder.
“Jude?” his voice is soft, and I feel him running the tip of his finger along the rounded top of my ear.  I open my eyes and look up at him.  I hadn’t realized they’d drifted closed.
I realize suddenly that I love this room.  It feels as though no matter what is going on outside these walls, only we exist within.
“Shall we go back to our chambers?” he asks.
“No,” I answer. I pull him with me to the low couch where we lie down together, his arms wrapped around me, my head on his chest.
“Let’s stay here a while.”
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aaluminiumas · 3 years
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Mercenary
The man called Wango failed to spot the female mercenary: he neglected and despised the drastic change of weather – such occasions were rather frequent in this part of the world. However, he did feel an obscure threat in the snowstorm whirling around him and attacking him from different angles – it almost behaved like a human being.
The blizzard quickly reacted to his attempts to defend himself from snow: whenever Wango turned away from the fluke of wind, the invisible enemy followed suit; every time he tried to cover his face from the snow, the microscopic particles became more persistent and aggressive, making their way into his eyes, nose, and ears, grazed across his skin as if in hope to dig underneath it or leave painful, bleeding scratches.
“Don’t be in a hurry, Wango.”
A derisive female voice cut the blizzard blinding the victim. Ambush seemed too insipid an action, so Monet, an advanced Devil fruit user, made her presence absolutely evident. She naturally played with the weather; her fingers, much like Doflamingo’s, pulled invisible strings causing various changes. A gentle move to the side and a gust of wind slapped the man across the cheek. A rough swat down – a wad of snow hit him powerfully in the temple. A clenched fist – and a white fortress formed around the man who had been lippy enough to try to double-cross Doflamingo himself. Not only that – he seemed to be on the take; some other pirate had bribed him to pry into the Donquixotes’ secrets.
“The fuck?!” the man cursed, looking around, his optics narrowed, a woolen scarf wrapped around the lower part of his ashen face with a large mole on the left eyebrow. “What’s going on?”
Genuinely fascinated by the game, Monet did not reply; the snowstorm abated. Using the slack period to his advantage, Wango fished out the map; a moment later, and a powerful gust of wind yanked it from his frozen fingers. Then, relying on his memories and summoning the images of the juxtaposed landmarks, the man endeavored to orient himself. Unfortunately, most of them were concealed underneath thick layers of snow. Perplexed, he made an irresolute step towards the nearby forest – he wouldn’t dare dart directly into the grove, but the trees may be a good enough bolt-hole. He couldn’t stay there for long, sure, but it’d certainly save him the trouble and give him a brief respite to collect his wits and regain his composure.
Plowing through the newly increasing snowstorm, Wango, panting, headed towards the woods, the distant howl of the wind reverberating in his skull. He’d seen extreme conditions, he’d been to numerous islands with harsh climates, but nothing could compare to this. The more he struggled to muddle through the snow, the weaker he became – he sensed he couldn’t achieve his goal. The forest seemed to remain in the same spot, or even farther than he initially thought; almost falling down to the ground, the man estimated whether he was able to crawl to it. Or was it all a mirage? How could a tree grow here, in this ice desert?.. And that voice that called him through the sleet – it wasn’t real, was it?..
Monet chased him unceasingly, surrounding the man by the amplifying snow walls and thus cornering him, so he had no escape route. The forest appeared a risky enough destination as he might skulk through the spreading branches and eventually get lost, so the woman amassed all her energy and lured him in the wrong direction, occasionally leaving a vague track of footprints in her wake to instill a vain hope in him. As devious as Doflamingo himself, Monet had devised a beautiful plan, worked out the kinks, and now she knew perfectly well what to do next. In fact, she needn’t go into detail with a man like Wango as he meant no harm to her, a strong soldier trained by the topmost members of the Donquixote Family, but she nonetheless wanted it to operate without a hitch. Monet put much time and effort into reducing possible jeopardy to a bare minimum, and she would loathe seeing it go to waste. Nobody checked Wango’s liaisons as of late, and the woman felt little to no desire to involve his potential companions or partners. She had a task to accomplish, and in this case, collateral damage would not be welcome.
Unable to squelch a bout of ominous mirth mixed with obvious gloat, Monet let out a quiet chuckle. The man, distinctly alert, turned around to face nothing but a pair of bleak curious eyes gazing at him through the white veil of snow.
“Who the fuck are you?” Wango exclaimed, clearly disoriented and frightened. “What are you doing here? Chasing me?”
Monet did not reply immediately. Instead, she used the protracted pause to savor the victim's sheer consternation.
“Who are you?” he demanded, his voice trembling. “A Marine?”
“Marine. Funny.”
Monet emanated a quiet chuckle – it was immediately muffled by the wail of the wind. Bewildered, flabbergasted, the treacherous pirate staggered back, his face a grey mask of dismay. Mesmerized by the yellow orbs, he couldn’t dragoon himself to look around and impel his brain to work.
“As I have said, don’t be in a hurry.”
Wango gasped, stumbling further, retreating. In a moment, he realized he wasn’t moving anywhere – his only escape route was cut off by a large wall made of snow.
“Who are you?” the man demanded again in a desperate attempt to buy some time, his brain working frantically, contriving a plan to escape his fate. “What are you?”
Monet let out another chuckle. The pirate, breathing heavily, rapidly examined the walls around him. After all, she – if it were a she – couldn’t be invincible, right? Everybody had weaknesses, and all he needed to do was to discover and hit them. Fiercely. Or, at least, to find out what made her tick, so he could play along, deceive her and flee while he still could. Unfortunately, he knew precious little about Devil Fruit users, so all his suppositions regarding the apparition’s powers were limited and may not evince the status quo. Of course, if Devil Fruits were indeed a thing, not an old legend told by nostalgic pirates embellishing their adventures with details that never existed. Anyways, he should use the bits of information he’d occasionally picked in his numerous trips abroad and do it right now – otherwise, he’d be buried underneath snow dunes.
The walls of the improvised fortress moved an inch closer towards the man. Unable to pinpoint the source of the chortle, the man kept gyrating and swerving in all directions. There must be a crevice, a tiny hole, a crack that would ruin the whole citadel when pressure applied. The wall seemed bleak and monolithic, save for a minuscule seam between two snow slabs. Wango wondered if he could break it by a powerful push, but as the plates irrevocably tightened around him, he stopped hesitating and leaned onto the junction.
The woman was watching him intently, her avian eyes fixed on the man’s pale face and his miserable endeavors. She clearly enjoyed the game and already envisioned the climax she had already acted out in her head: nothing could surpass the beauty of the scene her brain generated. If only Doflamingo could see it, he would be delighted. He’d savor the cruelty she precipitated on the disloyal pirate.
Wango, shoving the impregnable wall, spotted a glimpse of extreme atrocity in the yellow orbs glowing under the snowy veil. Albeit the pretty face outlined by the wind didn’t reveal any particular emotion, he was sure that this woman – or whoever the hell she might be – would not let him go. He needed to outwit or defeat her, and the latter option appeared far-fetched: she already used her power on him. He needed to rely on his street smarts, nothing else would help.
“Who sent you?” Wango demanded, his shaking hands pushing the wall.
“A friend of yours. Our mutual friend, to be exact,” came a singsong answer.
A spark of recognition. It couldn’t be– it couldn’t be, right? He was offered protection, given guarantees – after all the risks he underwent, after all the hindrances he’d overcome?.. He thrust the plate with his body, but it didn’t budge – though it did prevent the wall from moving.
“What friend? I don’t have friends,” he snapped, “Might be another self-assured prick thinking he can order me about.”
“Might be.”
Her voice dispersed in the roar of the wind that slowly abated. The snowflakes no longer seemed ferocious – instead of viciously scratching his skin, now they gently caressed the weather-beaten face and got interlaced with the eyelashes. The irresolute moonlight tickled the treetops and descended onto the ground illuminating the ruins of the snow fortress around him. The forest resembled picture-perfect tranquility, an exile from the frenzied world concentrated on wealth and glory – he should definitely ponder such an option over.
Monet approached him from behind. Quietly, she sashayed over to the man, her spidery hands tenderly lying onto his shoulder, cold breath hitting him on the skin already bitten by the frost.
He did not fight back. Chained by overwhelming consternation and panic, the man certainly planned to talk his way out – even though he didn’t have a knack for speaking, eloquence was certainly not his strength, he nonetheless hoped she’d hear. Actually, he intended to plead – to beg, to gravel, if needed; once proud and arrogant, Wango realized that the outcome depended solely on her mercy – or lack thereof. Monet succeeded to inculcate fear in him, but instead of the fight or flight reaction she expected, Wango palsied, his limbs stymied, only the greenish orbs were desperately swerving around.
“How many people have you already betrayed?” the woman asked nonchalantly, the smarmy voice penetrating his ears. The woman did not look threatening; something in the tone was lulling him to sleep while the snow sucked in his boots and crusted. “Weren’t you taught the basic human virtues? Honesty, sincerity… shall we say, loyalty?”
The wench might be opiating him by her quiet voice and the insidious warmth her skin exuded. Or was it his own body?.. Nevermind. He must wrench free from her viselike grip, or he’d end up freezing here to death – he already felt drowsy. Plucking out his feet, Wango mustered all his strength and remaining stamina to jump back. It did not help: he realized that he was trapped, that the ruins of the fortress stood there unharmed, and the space between him and the woman was so narrow that he could barely plan his maneuver; his panic-stricken brain hardly reacting to command.
“You just don’t understand,” he mumbled, imploring, his tongue hardly moving, “Please, listen to me, whoever you are,” his optics uncontrollably circulating, “It had to be… I had to do that! They’d kill me if I hadn’t–”
“Death is a release, isn’t it?”
Monet sounded half-sardonic, half-joking this time; there was a note of seriousness in her voice, though it was mostly concealed by the emotion she failed to properly convey. Still, a tinge of crystal clear disdain trickled into the words.
“I’m a poor man,” Wango whined, “I’m a poor man abused by many–”
His senseless wailing started to get on her nerves, and for a second – just a second, not more – it diverted her attention. Using that short respite, the man turned around, darted forward, and seized the woman by the chartreuse-colored hair. Hauling her over to him, the man licked his chapped lips and pulled out a rough shiv pressing it to her underjaw.
“You think you can play me, bitch?” Wango hissed, his hazel eyes burning with untamed ferocity.
“I most certainly do.”
Another grin distorted her lips, and the woman dribbled through his fingers – her green locks, her face, her body slowly morphed into snow that materialized behind him. Her hands clawed into his shoulders, clamped him tightly against her lean frame. Wango, unable to have forestalled such an action, tried to kick her in the legs, but the holdfast tightened, her icicle-like talons piercing his flesh.
“Death is a release,” Monet intoned into his ear, her whisper drowning in the shrill of agony and extreme anguish. “Soon you’ll see.”
Swiftly, she fished out her elegant dagger and slashed his throat in one methodic, steady gesture while propelling Wango away from her. The gaping wound splayed open, almost beheading the man. Shocked, dumbfounded by the fierce and rapid attack, he choked and hastened to put pressure on the cut but to no avail. The blood was already gushing all over his trembling hands, momentarily soddening his clothes and splattering across the snow forming a crimson trail in the direction of the looming forest in the distance.
In several minutes of ugly convulsions, he was dead. The tranquility, not disturbed by the brief melee, finally reigned.
“And salvation too, isn’t it?”
Stepping over the corpse, the woman squatted beside him and pulled a ring off his middle finger: Doflamingo had indicated his trust by giving the jewelry to the man. Wiping her fingers off the blood-soaked shirt of the cadaver, Monet left the place. If her Young Master had any doubts regarding her loyalty, by now they most likely dispersed.
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realtimedashboards · 4 years
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Overview - Dashboards & Reports For Podio - Podio Extensions
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bipadme · 4 years
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We Lie to Ourselves Most of All
pairing: female detective (leila) x mason
word count: 2521
warnings: contains a mild anxiety attack
description: Leila's incredibly skilled at lying to herself, but not so good at lying to Felix. But no matter what he says, her feelings for Mason are purely platonic. She's sure of it.
read on ao3 
Felix flips back onto the couch with a huff, his socked feet nearly kicking her hands. “You know, when you mentioned knitting socks for me I thought it would be…” he trailed off waving a hand vaguely in her direction. 
Leila snorts and rearranges her yarn so that Felix doesn’t end up hopelessly tangling it, “Less time consuming? More interesting to watch? If you're bored,” she teases, her eyes still glued on her knitting, “that’s what the junk food and movies are for. If you keep talking, you’re going to miss all the good parts.”
“The best part is sitting right next to me,” Felix counters with a charming grin. Leila can’t help but beam at him, glad for the company even if she’s partially convinced he’s only here to watch out for supernatural threats. She’s come to at least somewhat accept that Unit Bravo’s friendship comes with an even more fervent overprotectiveness than they’d started out with. But Felix’s bright cheer had a way of washing away the irritation she felt whenever Adam announced that she’d be having a guest that night.
She patiently lifts her knitting while he squirms and rearranges throw pillows until he’s in a more upright position, feet still firmly planted in her lap. When she puts it down again and starts to pick up where she left off, the silence makes her pause. She glances at him to find amber eyes that are bright in a way that makes her feel wary. The knitting is carefully set on the side table, she’s in no mood to drop stitches because Felix was up to… something.
“You know, it’s interesting…” He trails off too casually, and Leila tilts her head inquisitively. Logically, she understands he’s deliberately piquing her curiosity so that he has her full attention. But if anything, she’s learned it can be better to ride out whatever he has to say in her apartment, rather than wait for him to bring it up in front of the whole unit.
He drums his fingers on the back of her couch, “You know, you and Mason were kind of a surprise.”
Leila snorts inelegantly, “If by that you mean you’re surprised I got past his attitude, sure. But you know me,” she smiles sunnily, “I won him over with my sparkling personality and the way my ass looks in skinny jeans.”
Felix starts to cackle, and Leila joins him with a few giggles of her own. He settles down a moment later, wiping a stray tear from his eyes,”The group really is better with you around you know.”
He pauses and Leila suspects that he has more to say, and starts to feel an inkling of unease. But really, how serious can the conversation be? He never expressed a problem with them. Adam, on the other hand...
 “You’re like,” he gestures to all of her in a way Leila finds both funny and vaguely insulting, “You’re all sunshine and positivity, right?”
Um?
He rushes forward without waiting for an answer, leaning closer as he becomes more animated. “And you knit, and read all the time, so why aren’t you looking for someone like that?”
Leila blinks, “Someone who knits?”
The vampire rolls his eyes, “ No, someone who wants a relationship, the works!” He waggles his eyebrows, but it doesn’t make her smile for once. She’s too busy looking at his face, always so open, his eyes expectant. But this isn’t the open curiosity of a genuine question, it’s like he’s waiting for something in particular. But what? Does he think he knows what she’s about to say? Is there something he wants her to say? This conversation has taken an odd turn, and she feels like she’s walking on unfamiliar ground.
Where was this coming from?
Felix starts to squirm under her scrutiny, so she gentles her expression and counters him lightly, “I can’t want something casual?”
“Is that what you want?” He fires back almost immediately, eyes roving over her face with intent. Against her will, Leila’s heart begins to beat with a strange sort of anxiety. But what is there to be nervous about?
So she forces a teasing smile, “Are you asking about my intentions toward Mason?”
“No,” the joviality has faded from his expression entirely, “I want to know what you want.”
He looks almost worried, and a pang trembles right through her heart. Her hand rests gently on his ankle, squeezing it lightly with an affectionate smile, “Exactly what I said, something casual. He’s having fun, and I’m having quite a lot of fun.” 
His lips quirk into a small smile, “Yeah, you’re obviously desperate for fun. Sitting with me in your apartment, knitting on a Friday night.”
“Fuck off,” she protests half-heartedly, covering her face with her hands as Felix bursts into laughter at the rarely heard profanity. 
She giggles with him a little, and when their laughter stops she pauses, mulling over what she’s about to say. 
“I’m not exactly good at relaxing,” she gestures at her knitting and the clock that reads 2:30 AM. “So I’m not really good at sleeping, either. I overthink everything,” she says, smiling ruefully after Felix snorts in evident agreement.
Leila tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and shrugs, “But being with Mason is simple. I don’t have to guess what he wants, because he’s already made it clear. It’s a relief, you know? To have things just out in the open, to want the same thing someone else wants and just be happy with where you are. We have fun,” her lips quirk into a small smile, “And for once I stop thinking and I get to just...be.”
The explanation feels wholly inadequate. But how is she supposed to describe the sheer, inexhaustible happiness of being with Mason, without Felix misinterpreting it as something else? If she talks about how they don’t even need to have sex, that the relief starts when he walks into the room and she starts gravitating toward him, he’ll think it’s more than it is. He'll think she's looking for something more, when she's not.
Better to keep that to herself.
“I don’t get that with anyone else,” she sighs.
Felix blinks slowly, and his hopeful expression has her feeling nervous, even when he visibly tries to tamp it down. “And that’s it? Fun and relief? Is that why you freaked when he was injured?”
“I would freak if any of you got injured!”
“But would you kiss it better? ” 
Leila scoffs, and tries to push his feet off her with no success, “Not with that attitude, I won’t!”
His voice is suddenly quieter, “Is he the first person you look for when you walk into a team meeting because you like having fun?”
He pauses, and her heart starts pounding again. He doesn’t make her wait long, “Is that why you avoid wearing perfume when you know you’re going to see him? Is that why you smile every time he looks at you?”
“He’s my friend,” she nearly croaks. She takes a moment to clear her throat, “I worry about him, like I would for any of you. I’m being considerate.”
“Right,” his eyebrows arch doubtfully, “because what you feel is so casual and light.” He almost looks worried, but the moment passes them by as an explosion in the long ignored movie makes them jump. 
With some shared giggles, they both settle once again. But now Felix’s words stick in her mind so stubbornly that it takes all her effort to push them aside. However, if anything she's gifted at throwing herself into everything else to escape. The odd conversation is forgotten a few days later after her concentrated effort to do so.
At least, that's what she tells herself.
********************
Nightmares always end the same way.
Leila’s eyes snap open, the nightmare less vivid than usual, but the emotions of it still thrumming underneath her skin. For a moment, when it’s only a slowly growing panic in the pit of her stomach, she feels cheated. She’s cheated of her post-afterglow calm and the quiet contentment of Mason’s warmth within arm’s reach. She has so little time to enjoy this before he slips out and back to the warehouse, and she was going to spend it having a goddamned panic attack.
She has the worst luck.
Luckily, Mason is still sleeping, his body curled around hers but just far enough that she has a chance of not waking him. Maybe... if she doesn’t get up and takes care to be as quiet as possible. Her heart picks up pace, and soon her hands begin to tremble. When the full body trembling starts just a moment later, she laces her fingers together and focuses on the far wall, where the moon has painted silhouettes of the plants on her windowsill.
Mason, for all of his superior senses, is still asleep.
Small blessings, she thinks, eyes still glued on the wall.
She presses her eyes shut and takes measured breaths. If she leaves the bed, he’ll definitely wake up. If  she stays and he sees her like this…
The dread only grows bigger and her heart pounds even harder. At this point the effort of staying perfectly still has rendered her breath shaky and uneven. Leila is so jittery that the warm hand that touches her shoulder makes her yelp.
“What happened?” Mason’s voice is gravelly with sleep, but still alert. Once he sees that she isn’t flinching away from his touch, he gently rolls her over to face him. Leila obliges and shifts so that she’s eye level with him. She starts to reach out and hesitates, fingers inches from his, so Mason  closes the gap and places one hand between hers. Even with that comforting touch, Mason is frowning and waiting for her answer.
“I had a nightmare,” she whispers. The sound of her heart feels like it's drowning her words out.
His gray eyes are narrowed slightly, but not angrily. He moves his free hand to cup her still shaking hands within both of his, and the steadiness of them makes her feel anchored and less like she’s about to shake to pieces. “Murphy?”
She gives him a one-shouldered shrug and grimaces, “Among other things. I’m getting used to it.” Leila nearly winces at her defensive tone, but Mason doesn’t respond. He only looks at her levelly, maybe thinking of the last time she’d woken up from a nightmare. Maybe thinking she was weak. Maybe thinking that he was better off--
“Whatever you’re thinking, stop it,” he interrupts her thoughts with a sharp tone. He’s frowning now, and when he pulls his hands away the panic spikes, until his arm wraps around her to pull her tight to him. Her hands are now trapped between them and planted firmly on his chest, and her legs are tangled with his. His face is only inches from hers now, and his expression is...unknowable. She can’t quite place it, she only knows that it makes her chest ache with fondness. He reaches up to hold her chin ever so gently and to lightly trace a thumb over lips that are stuttering out uneven breaths.
“What do you need?”
The simple questions makes her tear up, and the fact that she knows he can sense her tears has her tearing up even more in pure shame, and that has her taking in a shuddering breath. She closes her eyes, determined that she will at least save her pride by keeping them from falling.
He asked you because he wants to help, the only functional part of her brain insists. So she gathers the words to tell him what she needs.
“Just stay with me like this? Please?” 
A beat passes in silence. He releases her chin to snake his arm around her and tuck her even more firmly into his chest. He cups his hand around the back of her neck, rubbing circles with his thumb behind her ear. In a strange role reversal, her lips are only inches from his neck. The scent of sandalwood surrounds her here, and it’s only now that she notices the thundering of her heart starting to slow.
That’s how they stay. Mason is silent, and the steady beat of his heart is soon matched by hers. For a moment, Leila is struck by the change. This feels… intimate. This feels like the kiss she’d given him after rescuing Sanja, like sitting on a rooftop with him in the middle of the night and having a real conversation.  Instead of the pure fucking shame she expects to feel after letting him see her like this she feels purely at peace. He holds her like she’s important to him in a way that means more than friendship and teamwork. 
Her throat tightens painfully at the thought. She knows it’s not true, and her heart hurts regardless. It’s fine though, what they have is what they both want. 
Yet the conversation she’d had with Felix rattles around in her skull so persistently that she can almost hear him ask, Is that what you want? Is this intimacy something she wants? Is she looking for more than Mason can give? Has she set herself up for disappointment yet again? Or has she learned her lesson by now? It’s the last thought that has her snapping out of her anxious thoughts.
So, of course, she ruins the moment.
“This is nice,” she forces her lips into a sly smile, “I never took you for someone who cuddles.”
Leila forcibly pushes the moment away and lets herself laugh at the disgruntled rumble in Mason’s chest as he protests, “We are not—“
He starts to pull away and she squeaks in protest, “Let me finish,” and scrambles to roll on top of him with a breathless laugh at the scowl on his face. What a grump , she thinks, all the while knowing he could push her away at any moment. Arms braced on either side, she reaches a hand up to his face and irons the lines out with a fingertip. The most shocking part is he lets her, his scowl dropping from his face and looking as if he’s in a trance.
He’s my friend, she thinks. Of that at least, she is sure. This sentimentality is platonic, it has to be, and she swears that’s what compels her to drop a light kiss on the corner of his mouth. When she pulls away, she’s still so close that her lips brush his with every word, “Thank you. For staying.”
They hang there for a moment, just breathing, afraid to break the moment. Then she feels fingertips trailing down her spine, and she squirms with a helpless shiver.
Mason smirks, and in a flash he flips them over, effectively pinning her. She smiles up at him as brilliantly as she can, completely content and happy. He huffs out a laugh and presses a kiss to her neck before whispering against her skin, “Why would I leave? I’m not nearly done with you yet.”
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gooddadstan · 5 years
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Son of Nemesis!Jason
So I may or may not have an obsession with Jason AU’s, and wrote this from a conversation on who the batfam would be the child of in a PJO AU where I immediately fell in love with Nemesis!Jay and made this. Hope you all like it!
There had been many things special about Jason Todd when he showed up at Halfblood Hill. For one thing, he’d arrived without the help of any guide, just coming over the hill battered and bruised. He hadn’t been claimed, which was average, but during the usual round of trying out skills to try and narrow down the list of possible parentage, they could only find an intense love for learning mixed with an apparent aptitude for most things athletic. While he was a very bright boy and a wonderful athlete, nothing he did stood out as skills given from a Godly parent, nor was there any indication of being claimed any time soon. They were forced to simply let him be, staying in the Hermes cabin and going through his routine as freely as he wished. He easily fell into a role of protecting others from the bullying of their peers and learned to fight with a conviction rarely seen even among the children of Ares, quickly carving his place as one of the most skilled demigods alive, happy and capable in a way few were.
Despite this, when he was chosen for a quest, many thought it was a fluke. The children given quests were always claimed, and that had been the truth for centuries. If not long beforehand then almost immediately after. As night fell and midnight passed, however, Jason was left unknowing. Many had their theories, the assorted cabins wanting to take the pride of being the home of a quest-taker, but none could say for certain.</p>
The quest muttered from the Oracle’s lips was a grueling one. Accompanied by Koriand’r, daughter of Hephaestus, and Roy, son of Apollo, Jason set off to kill a monstrosity that had tormented and killed demigods for longer than written history can say. They fought together well, caring for each other and saving each other’s asses whenever necessary. They laughed and they joked, moving across the world to follow the monster and getting closer and closer to stopping his reign of terror.
It was only in Ethiopia that things started to go south. A warehouse, one of many scattered around the hundred mile radius they’d tracked the monster down to. They’d split up, promising to send up their personalized distress signals should anything happen. Jason didn’t even have time to move his hand. One second, he was standing warily in the seemingly empty warehouse, and the next he was on the floor with his sword too far away to reach.
Despite their best efforts, they were doomed to failure from the start. After all, by the time Kori and Roy found they needed to get to that particular warehouse, and actually arrive on the premises, there wasn’t much to call a warehouse anymore. It was a pile of rubble on the ground, smoldering and reeking of burnt metal. Scattered debris dotted the landscape, and there was no sign of Jason or their monster. Kori, with her immunity to burns, searched for hours in between the beams, searching for a hidden basement, or the body of their friend under a piece of metal, and after enough time had passed for it to be safe Roy joined her. By nightfall they found nothing, and without the actual quest taker, they could do nothing but begrudgingly return to Halfblood Hill.
At their return, there was first a rise of jovial applause, before the hunched shoulders and clear lack of a Jason leading them brought the quiet somber lull the camp stayed in for weeks. With no body recovered, they were forced to only presume him dead, but the lack of activity on the monster’s end could only let them hope that he’d gone down with more of a bang than they’d thought.
A year passed, long and slow. Tales were told of heroes long gone, now peppered with more modern ones of a boy that helped the helpless and stopped a monster despite the odds. New Halfbloods arrived, older ones left to live in the mortal world, and life moved on. After that first year, the mood seemed to pick up significantly, the camp finally starting to truly move on.
Three years after Jason Todd, the unclaimed hero, died in Ethiopia, someone crossed over the crest of Halfblood Hill.
Expecting another raggedy teen, or even a confused child, it was a handful of nymphs who saw him first. They remembered him, always kind and apologizing if he scuffed his foot on a visible root or punched a tree in a not uncommon moment of frustration. They remembered him, but not as he was now. His eyes, once a soothing deep blue, are now an acidic green, piercing in a way that only meant threats. He donned a foreign assortment of blood red, ashy gray, and the tan of leather, knives and swords of celestial bronze scattered across his form. He was back, but not in the way any of the children at Camp Halfblood had ever hoped for.
It had been lunchtime, and the entire mass of demigods were concentrated around familiar tables as he watched them from above. This had to be perfect, they had to know exactly what hit them. They had to know it was him.
Getting down in front of the table of camp leaders was the easy part. He’d landed in a crouch that would leave some sore muscles later, but nothing that couldn’t be fixed and fought through, and stabbed a celestial bronze knife into the dead center of Bruce’s plate and into the table. Immediately, the man snapped to attention and rose, but his cold expression melted into one of worry as he just barely whispered, “Jaylad?”
Entirely on instinct, Jason snapped back with a simple “No.” His snarl growing as he stood up on the table, he held another knife in his other hand and gripped his empty one into a fist. “I’m not your fuckin’ ‘Jaylad’. You left me, Bruce. Your damned protocols made them leave me there in Ethiopia. I died, Bruce, not took some temporary trip to who knows where like it was all fuckin’ perfect, I died and you didn’t do jack shit about it. He’s still out there! That monstrosity is still out there killing people and you let it! You didn’t do shit about me, Bruce, and for that you’re going to pay.”
Jason brought his knife high into the air with more a display of dramatics than usefulness, and all hell broke loose. Celestial bronze clashed with celestial bronze, more demigods joining the battle as they all fight against Jason, who’s single-handedly keeping the disorganized mob of children at bay.
The battle hasn’t gone on long, though, when an unnatural glow begins to fill the room. Neither side knowing what it’s coming from, they look up to see a swirling mass above their heads. A scale, firey and writhing in an unnatural way slowly comes together above Jason’s head, bathing the tables and demigods in a bloody glow as they all seem to let out a simultaneous breath of understanding. “Nemesis.”
Jason, along with the rest of the room, was frozen. Now, he was being claimed. Now, after he’d gone off and died only to come back and be told that nothing was done, not even more than a search of the warehouse for a body by decree of the protocols Bruce put into place. Now, after she’d had so much fucking time. All at once, he threw down his dagger and sword, fleeing into the woods as his eyes burned an even brighter green.
He was sick and tired of these people thinking they could use him for means to an end, or dramatic effect. He’d show them how much they could control him. They’d regret all they’d done to him, or any other demigod they’d preyed on for so long. A son of Nemesis he was, a son of revenge he was, a tale of anger and hurt written into his bones. If he was fated to revenge, then he was going to make it hurt.</p>
~~~
The demigods that thought to ask Hades what happened to Jason Todd after his demise, those that remembered the tale of the son of Nemesis even after years had passed, unclaimed until after death, his suffering and how he turned it back on those that caused it. Those children of Gods that remembered to ask were rewarded with a laugh from Persephone, and a nearly indecipherable phrase about a sweet little boy and his smile, before Hades sent them away with a scowl.
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keeloca · 5 years
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SW ficlet: Or Else Into the Light
Recently returned to the light, the man who was Darth Vader struggles to find peace through meditation. And old friend shows up to help. This, too, is hard.
The first time he might have fled, given the chance:
The initial meeting with representatives from the Chandrilan House ran unexpectedly short, and once he had nodded a curt goodbye to the other member of the council, he allowed himself to retreat to his room. Normally he would remain in the common areas, doggedly inserting himself into the daily lives of the Rebels. He would do it unobtrusively, if possible, as not to provoke conflict or promote tension, but he would always be very much there, undeniably present. Letting himself be seen; claiming a space; helping where he could and was allowed.
He supposed that this, too, was a kind of penance.
Not only that, though; not even primarily that. He knew that if he wanted to make a real difference here with the Alliance, they would need to accept him, trust him. That could not be achieved if he hid away in his rooms.
Perhaps it could not be achieved at all. Incidents of actual (attempts at) violence or overt hostility had been surprisingly rare in the few weeks since he had thrown in his lot with the Rebels, but the undercurrent of fury and suspicion just barely held in check rarely abated. If Luke had been there it might thave been different, but Luke was not, and it was not.
Turning a corner, he pushed open the wooden door to the chambers he had been assigned upon their arrival early this morning. The room was spacious by Alliance standards, and luxurious. As per Chandrilan custom, the furnishings  were simple enough, but the bed was large, the floor antique stone tiles, and the windows high and arched. The vivid blue of the carpet accented the earthy browns of the stone and wood.
As the door closed behind him, he felt his shoulders sink just the fraction of an inch. Solitude was a luxury he rarely indulged in nowadays, and while his own company was not something he'd wish upon his worst enemy (well, maybe upon his worst enemy, one last time), it was a relief to be away from angry, fearful eyes and angry, fearful thoughts.
He'd drawn strenght from those not so long ago. Not anymore.
Less fear here though, and a lot less anger, than on the main base. Only the High command, of which he was now a very inofficial member, had been invited to Chandrila for the covert negotiations. The truly formidable Mon Mothma had arranged the secret conference held in a small town far, far away from the capital and prying Imperial eyes, and though she'd never come outright and said it, he had been given the distinct impression that the House's willingness to meet with them was due in part to his own recent defection. Though having him join them was closer to a PR disaster than a victory for the Rebels, there was no denying that his presence changed things.
Things became possible that had not previously been so.
There'd be a formal dinner later, and he'd be expected to attend. He did not look forward to it. One of the relatively few perks of being Darth Vader had been the tacit understanding that he did not, as a rule, need to show up for any state dinners or other functions, unless he so chose or there was particular threat to be dealt with.
A glance at the ornamental time piece over the door told him that dinner was still more than two hours away. That was a lot of time to kill, particularly for someone who had not bothered to cultivate any hobbies beyond work and the occasional tinkering with machines for the past twenty years. Stuck here, there was little enough in the way of work he could do, and he doubted the Chandrilans was in need of a repairman.
With a inward sigh he decided it was a good time as any to have another go at meditation. Removing his boots, he sat down in the middle of the thick carpet with his legs crossed, and closed his eyes. Took a deep breath, and reached for the Force.
Always more suited to action than to contemplation, he had often struggled to stay relaxed and centered while sitting still and doing nothing. At least as a Jedi – as a Sith and drawing on his pain and hatred and rage it had proved much easier, and a source of both rejuvenation and sharpened focus.
Thus he had learned the value of meditation, as he had learned so many other things: much too late and for the wrong purpose. And now, when he ached to simple rest in the light and let its warmth and peace permeate him, it was again proving very, very hard.
Impossible, so far, every time he had tried.
He was not one to balk from a challenge. Taking another deep breath, he forced himself to unclench his fists and relax. Slowly, calmly, into tranquility, nothing but the Force around him -
Five hearbeats he managed. Five hearbeats, before they started creeping up on him: memories and visions, guilt and grief, the remnants of a pain and rage so vast it tainted everything, coloured it black and red.
It was always like this, as soon as he let himself lower the shields he kept so carefully in place at all other times. Those shields allowed him to keep walking and talking rather than succumbing to the weight of the past twenty years, but the second he let them slip –
Jaw set, he tried to ignore it, push past it, reaching for the tranquil light, but to no avail. It fled him, and all that was left was the roar of his own churning mind.
Breathing heavily and with heart hammering, he opened his eyes. The taste of defeat was familiar by now, but no less bitter for it.
Too hard. Too hard, even for him.
Kark that. Setting his jaw, he closed his eyes once more. His younger self would have given into sulking by now, he knew with some shame; that boy had been so used to mastering almost everything with ease that he had little patience to practise the rest.
That boy was gone, for better and for worse.
Again, he relaxed, iron will overriding they body's natural response to the stress and anxiety.
”Don't worry so about relaxing,” a soft voice intoned. ”Concentrate instead on the sensation of your limbs pressing down on the floor.”
He sat completely still, frozen. The voice had come from behind him and been utterly, impossibly familiar. He'd have dismissed it as an audiotory hallicunation, not entirely unknown to him these days, had he not also been able to feel the intruder's presence, steady and bright in the Force.
Obi-Wan.
He did not turn. Did not move. Did not even attempt to parse the many, intense and conflicted feelings coursing through him.
”The sensation of your limbs pressing against the floor,” Obi-Wan repeated, giving no indication that he had noticed the turmoil had had caused. ”And breathe.”
Belatedly, he realized that he had been holding his breath, so still had he been. Now he carefully let his chest rise and fall with a long, slow breath. Another.
And another.
”Focus on the sensation of your limbs pressing against the floor,” Obi-Wan said for the third time, and this time he did, if only because utterly at an loss what else to do. Focused: bottom and heels, pressing down, the floor hard and somewhat cool against them.
”Good,” Obi-Wan said, and the small, casual word brought with it a wave of pleasure that threw him. It was absurd that such a tiny morsel of praise could mean anything to him now. Absurd, that the man he had murdered would offer it. ”Now, your calves.”
He did as he was told. And so, part by part, he was guided through a careful examination of his restored body in the very first, the most basic, of all meditation exercises. Nothing about the Force, light side or dark – although of course everything that existed was about and of the Force, and so too was this. Whenever his mind began to stray and the darkness began to stir, Obi-Wan's calm voice drew his attention back towards his hands, his spine, his neck. Breathe, in and out. Feel your chest rise and fall, unassisted. Listen to the faint humming of a generator two rooms away. Whatever is, let it be.
Nothing else was said. He kept his eyes closed and never once turned his head to catch a glimpse of his unasked helper. When eventually he realized that he was alone once more, he could not have said how long it had been so.
Even as he rose, his initial feelings of unease and confusion begun to reassert themselves, disspelling the calm of the meditation. Yet this was tempered by the knowledge that for a little while, he had known peace. Not impossible, then – not even now, and not even for him.
He wondered what it had cost Obi-Wan to grant him that, and for what purpose it had been done.
---
The second time was sought and feared in equal measure.
For the next few days he kept busy enough that there just wasn't time to meditate. There were meetings, longer every time, a renewed effort to socialize, lightsabre practise to pick up, and would you look at that, it appeared the Chandrilans did need a repairman after all – the state of the basic maintenance techonology of the villa was not up to scratch, if you looked hard enough...
Eventually he was forced to admit he was making excuses. This annoyed him so much that he stormed to his room and more or less threw himself down on the carpet, cursing himself for a coward.
If pressed – had anyone known to press him – he would not have been able to say what scared him more: that Obi-Wan would show up again, or that he wouldn't.
As it turned out, the voice came almost immediately, before he had had time to take more than few breaths.
Gratitude then, wordless and overwhelming. Something sharp and painful lodged in his throat, and for the first few moments his attempts to swallow it down distracted him from Obi-Wan's instruction. But the other man was patient and repeated himself without reproach until he was heeded.
It was easier this time, and became easier still the time after that, and the one after that.
They remained on Chandrila; negotiations were going well. Others joined them, delegates from several different worlds, as what had begun as a small and tentative meeting grew into something different and larger. The rumour was spreading: Darth Vader had joined the Rebels. The Rebels might have a shot. Trusted or not, liked or not, he was needed now, and kept busy at almost all hours of the day. So much knowledge to share, so much to plan and prepare – and so many times to be presented and paraded about, he is here, ours, all that power, notice how he isn't strangling anyone.
He played along, to the best of his ability. But no matter how much he had to do, or how late it was when he returned to his room, he always took the time to meditate. Once more, and with the help of his ghostly guide, it offered the rest and clarity he could find nowhere else, least of all in sleep.
Obi-Wan was there every time, appeared the moment he closed his eyes, always. The dead Jedi never appeared before that, and never tried to coax him into conversation. Indeed, he never offered anything at all that wasn't instruction. The man on the floor kept waiting, heart in his mouth, for the other to say something, and finally force him to acknowledge his presence.
Obi-Wan never did. Obi-Wan had always been patient, and wise.
They were well into their tenth session when he was finally the one who spoke, the words spilling over his lips almost involuntarily:
”Why are you being kind to me?”
At first there was no answer. The silence dragged out, enough that he almost began to suspect that the other had left. But he could still feel his steady presence in the Force, and eventually Obi-Wan replied: ”Would you prefer me to be unkind?”
Yes, he thought but did not say. It wasn't entirely true – but not entirely false either. It'd be easier in some ways, he suspected, if the friend he'd betrayed would rage and berate and condemn. He could deal with that; was used to it; could not deny its appropriatness.
”A question for a question is not much of an answer,” he said instead, evenly. Control – he was good at it now, had needed to learn to survive, and he wondered if Obi-Wan appreciated the irony of that.
”Perhaps not,” the ghost of his old mentor conceded. ”But perhaps it is part of the answer.” A brief pause. ”Perhaps I am being kind, as you put it, because I believe you need me to be. And perhaps what you judge as kindness is merely the absence of expected unkindness.”
”There's no reason for you to help me.” Curt, almost angry.
He could damn near hear Obi-Wan raise an eyebrow. ”On the contrary. It is quite obviously in everyone's best interest to keep the Chosen One firmly rooted in the light. Anything I can do to aid that is a direct service to the galaxy, and to the Force.”
There was a familiarity to this that was both comforting and deeply unsettling. The cultured voice, calm, reasonable, and yet utterly unyielding, Obi-Wan may be humble, but he was also stubborn – and utterly confident in his own understanding of the Force, and his place within it. It seemed death had done nothing to change this.
He nodded. ”I see. Your presence here is a means to a end. Your duty as a Jedi. That is all.”
That made perfect sense. The Chosen One was a terrible weapon, no matter which side wielded him, and only a fool would refuse the use of such power when facing the might of Darth Sidious. It was the only reason the Rebels, with great reluctance and after much debate, had accepted him, after all.
And so there was no reason for a simple statment of this fact to hurt so.
Obi-Wan's voice was infinitely gentle, and almost as sad. ”That is not all. But I think it might be all you're ready to accept right now.” Another pause, longer now, and he imagined the other rising – if indeed he had been sitting, did spirits bother to sit? – as he prepared to make his leave.
The man on the floor had yet to turn and look at him. In all their time together since Obi-Wan first appeared, he had yet to do that.
There was a sense of withdrawal, a growing distance – but right before Obi-Wan's presence faded entirely, the murdered man added, very softly: ”When you are ready, I'll still be here.”
He opened his eyes then, and looked over his shoulder. The room was empty, dust dancing in the shaft of light falling through the arched window. A sense of peace, and – implausibly – affection, lingered, like the trace of perfume once the wearer has left the room.
Slowly, he stood and walked over to the window. Beyond the small town the neiden fields stretched out, budding green as winter once more gave way to spring. He could hear birds singing in the distance, and the sound of a gentle breeze rustling the high trees. Somewhere close by a child laughed.
Anakin Skywalker raised his face towards the sun, and let the light warm him.
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webmdblr · 4 years
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Getting In Shape Is Fun When You Use Great Ideas To Pump You Up
Getting In Shape Is Fun When You Use Great Ideas To Pump You Up
Before reading into this article, acknowledge the fact that keeping up your figure is often hard and rarely fun. Even though being fit isn't easy, it is necessary. Fortunately, extreme measures are not required. Fitness only take some of your time and efforts. It just may be enjoyable.
Vado figs and manna syrup
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Training for a marathon can be no easy feat. Try setting small goals to achieve each week that eventually lead up to being able to run or walk a 5k marathon. For some, walking that distance takes little effort, but for others it can feel like climbing Mount Everest. Take small walks or runs each day and push yourself to make it further and further each week.
Adopt a positive mental attitude. Much is made of the physical workouts and the fitness program you follow, but if your head isn't there, the rest of you won't be. A good fitness program starts and ends in the mind, so if you want a strong, lean body make sure that your mental attitude is there first.
If you wish to get more bulk from exercise or go the body building route, you may need to take a protein supplement. Protein supplements are made from whey, soy or casein. They deliver protein to the body quicker than other forms when digested because they can be easily dissolved in water or other fluids, for consumption.
One of the exercise programs usually offered is the aerobic class. This means performing long lasting, medium intensity exercises. Choose this program whenever available as this type of exercise strengthens the respiratory and the heart muscles and improves the blood circulation. As a general effect, it reduces the body's stress level, burns fat and promotes general wellbeing.
Try Goruck for an extreme fitness challenge. You'll have the opportunity to see the sites of a city, led by U.S. special forces who will work your body for eight to ten hours, fifteen to twenty miles. This is the ultimate workout in extreme fitness.
If you're new to exercising, try walking. Exercising and weight loss go hand in hand, so incorporating some fitness into your plan is essential. Walking is gentle, easy to do, inexpensive, and it can be done anywhere. Start small, and build your way up to several miles a day.
Limit your strength training fitness workout to three times a week to achieve the maximum benefits for your muscles. The real work for your body in strengthening muscles happens in the recovery time between workouts. Doing your workout routine for strength-training more than three times a week does not allow sufficient time for recovery and re-building.
Make sure that you don't get addicted to working out. By this I mean, you have to make sure you don't go to the gym all the time or feel the need to constantly work out. This leads to you believing that you need to get bigger and turning to other sources to help.
One simple tactic to add motivation to your fitness plan, is to pay in advance for your gym membership or your personal trainer. Because your money is already gone, you will be more inclined to work out to get back full value for what you have spent. You should never underestimate the motivational drive, provided by the threat of losing money.
Protein shakes and other weightlifting Dimagra supplements are most effective when consumed immediately after a workout. Fitness enthusiasts who concentrate their exercise routines on building muscle mass will do lots of weightlifting and also likely use protein shakes to fuel their workouts. Research has found that the best time to fuel up is directly following exercise, rather than hours after finishing or before starting.
You should feel good and energized after your workout, and not tired or exhausted. Include cardio exercises like aerobics and jogging to your workout routine. Add on strength training only if you feel as if you have the extra energy.
Train with a friend to add focus and dedication to your fitness plan. Friends can not only be supportive, but can also add a bit of competition if they're on a more advanced fitness level than you. To really help, take it a step farther and plan meals around a diet plan that you share with your friend.
Cardiovascular exercise should not be the only type of exercise you participate in, but it should definitely be a huge part of your workout. Walking on a treadmill is a great way to do this type of exercise. It is recommended that you do not perform cardiovascular exercise more than an hour a day. The reason for this is you start to lose muscle mass. The right amount of cardiovascular activity really strengthens a person's fitness level.
When starting to lift weights to become fit you need to remember to start small. If you think you're going to be able to lift like a pro, that is not possible. You have to build the muscles up by tearing the muscles that are already there. When they regrow, they regrow and are able to hold more and more weight.
It's impossible to guarantee that a fitness routine will be enjoyable or easy, but preparing appropriately with a good attitude and a little self-education definitely improves the odds. There's no reason you should have to lift yourself by your bootstraps and design a healthy fitness routine all on your own. Spread the word, but you must first decide to begin.
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monstersdownthepath · 7 years
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Themed Finale: Agmazar the Star Titan
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CR 26
Neutral Evil Colossal Undead
Mythic Realms pg. 46
And here we are, at the end of Theme Week 2: Endgame Undead for a creature even more endgame than the Grim Reaper. Agmazar is a kaiju, a massive monster with a laundry list of immunities and resistances, one created by an ancient race a long, long time ago on a planet far, far away as the ultimate weapon against the undead. Originally a living being, Agmazar was launched at a planet ruled by death, only to have the lich-kings on its target world teleport it directly to Golarion instead. On this world filled with life, Agmazar was quickly slain by the Kaiju King Godzilla Mogaru, but it didn’t stay dead.
Agmazar’s immense power resurrected it as a deathless monstrosity that continued its mission to purge the world of the undead... Something it is, weirdly, not very good at, because aside from its slam attacks it... really doesn’t have any abilities that outright harm the undead. I assume that when it was still alive its powerset was more elaborate and tailor-made to slaughter skeletons and zombies, but thanks to Mogarou mistaking it for a malevolent intruder, Agmazar now excels in dispatching every living thing in its path from Point A to Point B whenever it detects some necromancy it needs to punch.
As you read below, please keep in mind that Agmazar’s sole purpose, its entire reason for existing, was to destroy the undead. Hold that idea in your thoughts as I tell you of all the horrible ways it can slaughter the living.
To begin with, Agmazar’s slam attacks! Four arms, four punches a round, each dealing 4d12+27 damage and inflicting two negative levels per strike. Those punches are hard, very hard, and are a nightmare for any being stupid enough to get within the titan’s reach (which is 60 feet). Agmazar can also use Quickened Circle of Death to remove any lower-leveled beings near it, clearing out obnoxious summons so it can focus its full attention on priority targets.
Of course, simply getting to the titan is a challenge enough. For one mile around Agmazar, the atmosphere begins to break up, making the simple act of breathing significantly more difficult, and then outright impossible when you get within reach of the titan itself. Its aura destroys the air within 60 feet of its body, suffocating any breathing creature that dares stand up to it and necessitating some form of assisted breathing if one wishes to get into melee with it... Not that anyone should, because of its quadruple slams and the eight negative levels that go along with it.
I forgot to mention: Agmazar’s slam attacks are treated as Force attacks, allowing it to effectively punch ghosts as well as anyone hoping an ethereal form will protect them from its fists. That is at least one point in the favor of “undead-slaying machine.”
Now, then, it’s clear that a melee fight with Agmazar is difficult enough, yes? No problem! If you can beat the Grim Reaper, then you know how to fight Agmazar: Just keep out of its reach! Simple! Except for its Force Field, which causes the first ranged attack made against it each round to bounce directly at either the source, or at another random creature within 60 feet. “But wait!” you say, knowing full well I have more to tell you, “that’s only the first attack each round!” yes, but A) The players don’t know that. The first arrow ricochets and hits the party rogue in the face, and the ranger immediately decides that they should probably hold back. And B) Gravitic Control.
Gravitic Control is the biggest ability under Agmazar’s belt, and for good reason. As a standard action the Star Titan can alter gravity for 2d6 rounds, doing any one of the following:
Acceleration: Agmazar gains Telekinesis.
Attraction: Anyone within 200 feet that fails a Will save cannot move away from Agmazar, and must spent their move action each round or get pulled closer.
Deceleration: Everyone is affected by Feather Fall. Flying creatures can only flop around awkwardly, and ranged attacks become less accurate.
Inversion: Gravity for 200 feet around Agmazar becomes reversed, and everything starts falling upwards. If it spends a standard action concentrating, the area of effect doubles.
Repulsion: Anyone within 200 feet that fails the Will save cannot move closer to Agmazar, and must spend their move action each round or be pushed farther.
Attraction, by far, is the most dangerous one on the list (with Inversion as a close second). Anyone with low Will saves literally cannot get away from Agmazar without some form of teleportation. Running isn’t an option, because the only direction they CAN move is closer, and if they don’t WANT to move they have to spend their move action anyway or get yanked towards the titan.
Agmazar gets over the Reaper’s primary weakness by making it nigh-impossible to escape, forcing squishies to confront it or burn a spell slot getting away. And even then, it’s not much of a problem to simply reactivate the ability again when it catches up to them... if it even wants to. Unless some undead beings are in the radius, Agmazar has very little reason to actually use Attraction. It’s more likely to use Repulsion or Inversion to send offenders flying so it can continue on its way. Agmazar’s primary target is always the necromancy that got its attention in the first place, and anything between it and that target is simply bashed until it stops being an impediment.
That’s all it is, remember? A weapon against the undead! A weapon created with a mission to eradicate all zombies! I mean... It can channel negative energy to heal itself, I guess, which... heals undead in general... And they’re also immune to the negative levels it inflicts with its slams. And its Aura of Suffocation. And they’re even immune to Agmazar’s spell like abilities, as Circle of Death, Horrid Wilting, and Waves of Exhaustion only work on living creatures.
... Y’know, I don’t think its creators really thought this whole thing out. Even the Hollow Serpents it can summon by breaking off its own arms are absolutely awful at killing other undead, but amazing at murdering living beings, meaning it can just rip its own arms off and let them deal with any threat it thinks is beneath it.
Regardless of what it was built to kill, though, Agmazar excels in killing huge swaths of living creatures and devastating long stretches of land just by passing through, which is enough reason for players to want to fight it. It may be focused on destroying undead, but anything that interrupts its march (or its otherwise peaceful meditation between marches) is fair game. Entire cities laid to waste just because they were in the way. It’s possible for a campaign to revolve around figuring out what the Star Titan’s target is and clearing everything out of its path so it can dispose of the threats it detects, or at least slowing it down enough for an evacuation effort to complete.
There’s also the possibility of an Evil campaign, or at least a Good campaign where some heavy necromancy is necessary, where the party must stop Agmazar from interrupting a grand necromantic ritual.
You can read more about the Star Titan here.
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youinmyhoodnowson · 6 years
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islington electricians reviews
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ramonabentley · 5 years
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Pest Control for Gophers South Corona 92882
Pest Control for Gophers South Corona 92882
Pest Control Exterminator Gophers Corona
Pest Control Exterminator Service for Gophers
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Pest Control Exterminator Service for Silverfish
Silverfish can be located typically in damp climates and prefer to live in dark damp areas such as basements and attics, bathroom and kitchens. They are especially attracted to paper and moist clothes. Frequently found in stored cases in garages and sheds. Silverfish are known for their destructive habits and like to eat clothing, books and wallpaper. Silverfish eat carbohydrates, particularly sugars and starches. Glue in books, linen, silk and dead insects may be food sources. They have been found in unopened food packages. Silverfish is a wingless pest that is half an inch in length. It has a silver color of its scales and the fish-like movement it makes and now they are among the most hated household pests. Silverfish can cause considerable destruction, ruin photos and books, eat wallpaper and cotton. Silverfish are nocturnal and move fast and can jump. They are found where there is excessive humidity and will do great damage to books, wallpaper, other paper products. This species is regularly a pest in houses and local libraries. It feeds on starchy products like glue and lives in high humidity areas of your home. It can live in glass jars where it will feed on potatoes or things like cornmeal and other starchy foods. Thought to belong to one of the most primitive existing insect orders, more than 400 million years old.
Pest Control Exterminator Service for Fleas
Flea bites might leave you with irritated itchy bite marks. Fleas can create allergic reactions for some people and can transmit diseases. Fleas are not the simplest pest in the world to deal with. If you do have a flea issue or are stressed about fleas, you can give your pet medication as a protective flea pest control measure. Fleas are parasites. The adult female flea must ingest a blood meal before she can lay her eggs. The eggs fall from the host animal and collect on the surfaces below. Flea pest control is essential as they will bite your ankles and legs. Nobody should have to put up with fleas and as long as you pay attention to your pet and make allowances for the flea season of summer you and your pet should be delighted. Fleas are carriers of disease so you need to be extra cautious if you even suspect you have fleas. Having your residence checked and treated by a flea pest professional, at the same time treating your pets can help remove most future flea problems. Using the do-it-yourself products found in grocery stores is often inadequate against big infestations and can expose unnecessary chemicals into your environment. Qualified flea exterminators have access to the necessary equipment and high concentration insecticides. They also have the knowledge and training to use them effectively. Flea experts know the exact concentrations use these kinds of chemicals safely and securely and suitably for the situation. You could easily pay more money attempting to treat the problem yourself with sprays from the store and still have no results, than it would be immediately seeking help from someone proficient in pest control who offers a guarantee with the work.
Pest Control Exterminator Service for Beetles
If you experience damaged clothes, carpeting, upholstery and other items, it probably is carpet beetles. These small pests are far more common than most house owners realize. They might be very harmful, and to make it worse, they are quite hard to manage. You may find one or two beetles or the evidence they leave behind, but the beetle problem can grow if not handled properly and promptly. In addition to eating on your belongings, these beetle larvae shed tiny hairs which can create allergies. Infestations of these beetle pests have been linked to the spread of infectious diseases, like Anthrax. Part of the problem with controlling carpet beetles is that they live in many parts of a house and eat a lot more than carpet. They eat everything containing organic fibers and organic products. There are 3 species of carpet beetle that are one of the most common problem for property owners. These are the varied carpet beetle, the black carpet beetle and the furniture carpet beetle. Larvae are by far the most harmful stage in their life cycle. Females lay anywhere from 50 to 100 eggs near food sources. An adult beetle can live four years, laying eggs once a year. Eggs are incredibly resilient. Once the eggs develop into cocoons and larvae, they stay in this stage close to a year. The larvae is the most damaging stage. Both eggs and larvae are very difficult to spot since they tend to blend in with the fabric they inhabit. Once they mature, carpet beetles are scavengers and may be found in areas well far away from food sources. You may find one or two larvae creeping on surfaces. But the first sign of a carpet beetle infestation is typically irregular holes chewed in fabrics. They eat the nap of fabrics and carpeting without eating the base threads. If you are finding holes in fabrics around your home, and think the damage is due to carpet beetles, look for fecal pellets and skins shed by the larva. They most often feed in dark secluded places, so do a thorough inspection for them.
Pest Control Exterminator Service for Ticks
Ticks are arthropods that are often mistakenly referred to as insects. Insects have 3 body regions, six legs, and generally possess wings. Ticks lack wings, have two body regions, and depending upon their developmental stage, may have either six (larva) or eight (adults and nymphs) legs. Ticks have tremendous potential for transferring organisms that may cause disease in human beings and other animals. These disease-causing organisms include protozoa, viruses, and bacteria. Bites from certain ticks can cause a rare limp paralysis beginning in the lower limbs and moving upwards with death resulting if the tick is not promptly removed. Additionally, tick bites can cause skin irritations or even allergic reactions in sensitive people who are repeatedly bitten. Ticks attach themselves for a period of time, and then drop off their host to lay eggs. They require a blood meal at each stage of life in order to grow. The female tick must engorge herself with blood to obtain the nourishment necessary to generate the thousands of eggs she lays. Despite the large number of eggs produced, only a small percentage will make it to maturity.
Pest Control Exterminator Service for Squirrels
Squirrel pest control can possibly be really complicated, but as with a lot of pests it starts with prevention. Cover all holes to your residence, replace damaged windows, and inspect your home for openings or structures that provide squirrels access to the building. After you are sure all access points have been secured, you may consider an electric fence around your yard or home. Funnel-shaped plastic collars can be installed at the top of posts that support bird feeders to keep squirrels from accessing seeds or nesting babies. Branches that are positioned over your roof should be trimmed to prevent squirrels from accessing your fireplace. Lastly, eliminate outdoor food sources squirrels may find such as garbage or pet food. Regrettably, removing squirrels from your own property can be quite dangerous. As such, professional pest control is likely your best option. Often times, squirrels are enticed by woods and trees, so if your property features trees you are more likely to have squirrel pest control problems. Once they enter your home, usually through a chimney or open fireplace, they chew electrical wires, mattresses and blankets, and other parts of your house. One of the major concerns associated with a squirrel infestation is electric fire, as these pests can weaken your home’s electrical system by chewing through wires. However, squirrels can decimate your garden by eating plant bulbs, seeds and buds as well as ripe vegetables. They may even damage your lawn as they bury food reserves.
Pest Control Exterminator Service for Voles
Voles, also named meadow mice, are often gray or brown in color and are pretty small rodents. They have short tails, compressed legs, and chunky bodies. They flaunt eyes that are very small and have ears that are somewhat hidden. They have a layer of underfur that is generally dense and covered with longer, thicker guard hairs. Voles do not have set times that they are active so they can be seen hurrying about all year round in the day or evening. Voles dig a lot of shallow burrows and make below ground homes that are made up of leaves, grass, and stems. They have no difficulty tunneling through snow in the wintertime. Despite the fact vole numbers fluctuate from year to year, their numbers often boost unexpectedly and rapidly. This is typically when wildlife control services are required. Not many homeowners know how to do away with voles and require trained professionals. Voles are very poor climbers and do not normally go into houses. However, vole control is often desired for the exterior of the property. This is primarily due to the amount of destruction a vole can cause. Voles feed on a variety of garden plants. Some of these include carrots, cabbage, cauliflower, lettuce, spinach, tomatoes, and turnips. They also ruin garden plantings such as lilies. These unwanted pests will gnaw the bark of fruit trees and damage tree trunks. This damage will disrupt the flow of nutrients and water to the trees and can kill them totally. For these kinds of reasons, wildlife control professional services are needed to protect and maintain the vegetation and plants that reside on your property. Trained specialists understand vole behavior and know how to get rid of voles.
Pest Control Exterminator Service for Slugs
As I’m certain you know, slugs are one of the most typical and most uncooperative landscape pests on the planet. They have a voracious appetite, particularly for delicate plants like the ones you have in your back garden. Their most popular targets include cabbage, lettuce, sprouts, asparagus and strawberries, but they will definitely consume and destroy just about everything you try to grow.There are a wide range of backyard pests that you have to deal with when trying to produce things in your backyard. One type of pest that can turn into a problem over time are slugs. These can thrash a backyard garden very swiftly if you don’t take care of the problem. There are many ways to deal with slugs in your backyard. The first thing that you can do is to make certain that your backyard garden isn’t in fact drawing in slugs to it. Many make the mistake about providing things in the garden that makes slugs want to be there. Don’t provide the slugs the needed shelter from the sun. Many will leave out garden pots or other things that will make a nice home for slugs to be in during the day. Remove these things.
Pest Control Exterminator Service for Snails
The common garden snail will eat through the soft leaves of greeneries, which at best, appears unsightly, and at worst, will kill the vegetation. If these little buggers have had you asking yourself, “How to manage garden snails?” then you are at the right place. We are pros at powerful snail pest control. Snails are an interesting species to many individuals. Nevertheless, the enthusiasm stops once these pests find their way into a well groomed backyard garden. This usually happens to some extent as these slow pushing creatures are regularly on the hunt for a good feast. The snail as a pest is a dreadful thing. They can wipe out young plants by chewing their stem or eating the seeds right before they finish germinating. They will eat irregular notches in leaves and this can lead to quick browning. A single snail can do massive damage to a single plant in even the space of one evening.
Pest Control Exterminator Service for Earwigs
Earwigs hide throughout the day beneath debris or in dark areas, emerging in the dark to eat plants, organic wastes, and smaller sized insects. The standard name comes from a totally unproven superstition that these insects wriggle into a lot of people’s ears during the night to bite them. Earwigs are safe, only occasionally destroying flower blossoms. While Earwigs are scavengers, ingesting dead insects, decomposing plant materials they can also eat live plants and damage your vegetables and feed on the flowers of plants, including marigolds, petunias, hibiscus, and numerous other plants. Earwigs leave many little holes in plant leaves and flowers.
Pest Control Exterminator Service for Rodents
Rodents which include rats and mice taint our food and living areas with their urine and feces and they bring diseases. Rats chewing through wires are known to result in over 50,000 building fires per year with another 100,000 plus fires that are quite possibly caused by rodents eating through home wiring. Rodents will invade your house or building in search of shelter, food, water and warmth. Roof Rats can access your property by tree limbs that touch your roofing, and Norway Rats and Mice normally find entry through small openings as small as a dime. Rats and mice may be some of the most significant pests we have to deal with. Rats and mice will continuously attempt to co-exist with us in just about every building we live, eat, and work in. Rodents have been known to transport and transmit diseases, damage and destroy our structures, electric wires, and water pipes through their chewing. Most people have a more substantial fear of rats and mice than they do of spiders. This anxiety can make you, your workers, or customers very uncomfortable. Working with an pest control specialist is the first step in resolving the problem. At Go-Pher The Kill, we perform rodent control like nobody else. In addition to trapping, baiting, and exclusion, we include video into our service. You will have a live video stream to the locations of activity so you can monitor our progress, and spy on your intruders, even at night! This service also provides our customers confirmation that their current concern has been resolved.
Pest Control Exterminator Service for Moles
A mole will eat up to 200 worms a day. A mole will eat up to 200 worms a day. The most beneficial method to prevent nearly every pest is to get rid of their food source. This is possible with earthworms, but not easy mainly due to the job worms provide to the soil. It is a fact of good lawns, that if you have good lawns– there is a strong possibility that moles will also be a threat. Proofing is possible, but again not easy. The aim would certainly be to install a physical barrier between the sub-floor surface where the moles tunnel and the surface. A wire or grid method is possible that is then recovered with soil and grass. Possible, but costly– but then it depends on the value of the lawn surface. There is a hypothesis that vibrations keep them away. Commercially available sonic devices, which are placed into the ground, aim to create vibrations which are supposed to dissuade moles. Nevertheless, there is very little scientific study into how efficient this is in preventing activity. Protecting against moles is either challenging to copy the work of worms, or costly due to the scale of area to defend. So control of the actual mole is typically the only method to eliminate their damage, and this is why it is essential to call in pest control professionals when you have a problem with moles. We know all of the best and least uncomfortable ways to deal with mole removal issues, ensuring minimal pain for the moles, with the highest possible level of success. The additional reason why it is a good idea to call pest control professionals to handle your mole removal problem is that they are very difficult to trap. There are a number of ways of undertaking mole control procedures, all of them calling for some level of skill. The most significant problem is quite obvious of course, in that as they live underground, equipment must be considered and position based on evidence and mole behavior and in their darken world, they will escape at the first sign of threat when their tunnels system has been interfered with.
Pest Control for Gophers Corona
We are the pros in Gopher control and have been so for many years. Be prepared to take immediate action as it is a lot easier and less expensive to control one or two than wait until the population builds where they cause excessive damage. Our gopher service professionals will inspect your property with you and provide an estimate. We will recommend the best treatment options to eradicate the gopher problem completely. Technicians are prepared to complete service at the time of estimate. We offer the best gopher solutions to get the job done. Our gopher treatments are very powerful for maximum effectiveness.
Go-Pher The Kill Pest Control Riverside 9880 Indiana Ave STE 23, Riverside CA 92503 https://www.gopherthekill.com (951) 977-8183
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Porphyry, Pepper Corner, Home Gardens, El Cerrito, Norco, May, La Sierra, Weisel, Eastvale, La Sierra Heights, Arlanza, Arlington, Arlington Station, Arcilla, Mira Loma, Pedley, Temescal, Bly, De Anza Village, Magnolia Avenue, Casa Blanca, Stalder, Glen Avon, Henshaw, Prenda
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Pest Control Exterminator Service Corona CA
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Syzole Capsule:
Why it's used 
Syzole Capsule is a specialist endorsed sedate that is used for the transient treatment of ulcers in the upper bit of the little stomach related tract (duodenal ulcer). This solution works by turning away the proportion of destructive creation in the stomach by hindering the common compound system. This medication helps by decreasing the level of destructive in the stomach. Syzole Capsule is furthermore used for the flitting treatment of stomach ulcer, to treat acid reflux and indigestion achieved by GERD, for the transient treatment of exacerbation of the sustenance pipe, for the whole deal treatment of overproduction of gastric destructive (Zollinger-Ellison issue), for the long term treatment of threat of the endocrine organ, and for the whole deal treatment of augmentation in the amount of shaft cells in the body (central mastocytosis). Syzole Capsule may in like manner be used close by various medications in the treatment of explicit conditions as endorsed by the master. It is used with Clarithromycin, or Amoxicillin to treat ulcers in the upper bit of the little stomach related tract called as duodenal ulcers. It is also used together with Clarithromycin, or Metronidazole to empty Helicobacter pylori organisms which prompts stomach ulcers.
Proton Pump Inhibitors 
Syzole has a spot with the Proton Pump Inhibitors class of prescriptions. Proton-siphon inhibitors (PPIs) are a social event of medications that inside and out decline stomach destructive creation. Plenitude destructive creation causes infirmities related to the stomach and processing tracts. PPIs are used to treat such issue.
Bit by bit guidelines to use Syzole 
Examine the solution guide gave by your medication master, your PCP, or the drug association. In case you have any request related to Syzole, ask your essential consideration doctor or medication authority. Use Syzole Capsule as per the rules gave by your essential consideration doctor. Syzole is used 1 hour before sustenance. Swallow down the Syzole holders. Make an effort not to chomp or pummel the cases. Syzole is eaten up as a general rule close to the start of the day.
Conventional Dosage 
The conventional segment of Syzole for adults is 20-40 mg once step by step for 4 two months. The normal part for children is 5-20 mg once step by step (for bothering of the sustenance pipe (erosive esophagitis) and indigestion (gastroesophageal reflux infirmity). This solution is usually used for a period of around two months for ulcers in the upper bit of the little stomach related tract (duodenal ulcer), two months for stomach ulcers, and a month for stomach related issue where stomach destructive streams over into the sustenance pipe (gastroesophageal reflux contamination). It takes 1-2 hours for this medication to start its action. This remedy isn't known to be addictive or penchant molding. This medication should be used on an as-required reason. Syzole may be suggested for the whole deal treatment of conditions, for instance, over the top production of stomach destructive (Zollinger-Ellison Syndrome). If using the deferred release sort of this drug, don't crush or nibble the solution, with the exception of whenever appeared on the pack. Pounding or gnawing of the solution can realize bothersome taste achieving patients not following the prescription arrangement. Beating or gnawing can in like manner release most of the medicine pronto, achieving a reduction of ampleness and a possible augmentation in responses. In the occasion that using the liquid sort of this medication, measure the segment using the gave assessing cup, spoon, or dropper. Preceding purging the solution into the evaluating device, you should check the estimation markings warily. By then, void the bit aggregate into the device. After use, clean and store the assessing contraption in an ensured spot for your next use. You should not use a tablespoon or teaspoon as the part assessing contraptions since it can realize a misguided bit. At whatever point appeared on the thing group, shake the medication before use.
Speak with Your Doctor 
Discussion about with your PCP if you develop new signs. Inspect with your essential consideration doctor if conditions like weight decrease, issues while swallowing, stomach torment, acid reflux, hurling (sustenance or blood), dim stools, outrageous free insides, genuine liver issues and skin reaction occurs. If you have issues with the adequacy of your liver, a low part is required for the upkeep of irritation of the sustenance pipe (erosive esophagitis). Insight with your essential consideration doctor before ending the use of Syzole. Progressively settled patients may see a development in the pace of responses. As needs be, a lower part may be recommended for increasingly settled patients.
Use in Children 
If you are giving Syzole Capsule to a youth, make sure to use a thing that is for use in kids. Use the adolescent's weight or age to find the right part from the thing group or solution mark. You can similarly scrutinize the estimation zone of this page to know the correct segment for your child. Else, counsel with your essential consideration doctor and seek after their proposal.
Lab Tests 
Preceding beginning the usage of this prescription, your essential consideration doctor may demand that you experience helpful/lab tests (Magnesium) to screen for indications. At the point when the association of the medication begins, your PCP should screen you to guarantee that the responses of this medicine are not influencing your prosperity. Your essential consideration doctor may request that specific lab tests be performed before you start using Syzole Capsule. Your PCP may demand that you experience Magnesium test. A low level of magnesium has been represented in patients on deferred treatment of Syzole with digoxin. Along these lines, for this circumstance, careful seeing of magnesium levels is required before taking this remedy.  Meds may be recommended for uses other than those recorded in the medication oversee. You should not use Syzole Capsule for conditions or signs for which it was not suggested. Do whatever it takes not to give Syzole Capsule to different people, paying little heed to whether they have comparative conditions or indications that you have. The use of this medicine without the direction of a master may cause hurt.
Limit 
Hold fast to limit rules on the thing group if available. Store Syzole Capsule Store Syzole delayed release compartments some place in the scope of 15°C and 30°C (59°F and 86°F). Store Syzole delayed release oral suspension at 25°C (77°F), permitted to 15–30°C (59–86°F), away from sogginess, and away from light. Store this medication away from youths and pets.
The best technique to take Syzole 
Your segment and how every now and again you take Syzole will depend upon the going with segments: 
age 
weight 
patient's prosperity 
the quality of the patient's kidneys 
drugs recommended by the pro 
some different drugs being used 
common improvements being utilized 
response to the medication 
Syzole Dosage 
Portion for ulcers in the upper bit of little stomach related tract  Grown-up (Adult)
Recommended: 20 mg once consistently for around fourteen days 
Most extraordinary: 40 mg once every day for about a month 
 Estimations for disturbance of the sustenance pipe (erosive esophagitis) 
Grown-up (Adult)
Endorsed/Recommended: 20 mg/day 
Adolescents (age 1-16 years and weight between 5-10 kg (11-22 lbs)) 
Recommended: 5 mg/day 
Youths (age 1-16 years and weight between 10-20 kg (22 - 44 lbs)) 
Recommended: 10 mg/day 
Youths (age 1-16 years and weight more than 20 kg (44 lbs)) 
Recommended: 20 mg/day 
Portion for excessive production of stomach destructive  Grown-up/Adult(parcel adjustment should be sought after as per the patient needs and continue for whatever period of time that clinically required.) 
Proposed: 60 mg once consistently 
Most outrageous: 120 mg thrice day by day 
Estimation for helicobacter pylori bacterial illness 
Grown-up/Adult (triple treatment with clarithromycin and amoxicillin) 
Proposed: 20 mg Syzole notwithstanding 500 mg clarithromycin notwithstanding 1000 mg amoxicillin two times each day for 10 days 
 Estimation for helicobacter pylori bacterial defilement 
Grown-up (twofold treatment with clarithromycin) 
Recommended: 40 mg Syzole once consistently notwithstanding 500 mg clarithromycin thrice day by day for 14 days 
Estimation figuring for kids 
To calculate the estimation for children please use the weight based bit analyst to register the best possible portion as per the greatness of your youth.
Structures/Forms
Conceded Release Capsule Quality: 10 mg, 20 mg, 40 mg Conceded Release Oral Suspension  Quality: 2.5 mg, 10 mg Conceded Release Tablet  Quality: 20 mg
Missed Dose 
Acknowledge the missed segment when you review. Nevertheless, if the perfect open door for the accompanying segment is almost there, by then skirt the missed segment and seek after the typical dosing plan. Keep away from taking a repeated part to make up for a missed one.
Overdose 
What to do in case you overdose on Syzole?  No specific neutralizing agent for an overdose of Syzole is open. The treatment depends upon its reactions.
Signs of an overdose of Syzole 
In case you use a great deal of this remedy, it could provoke unsafe degrees of the medication in your body. In such circumstances, symptoms of an overdose may contain:
clouded vision 
perplexity 
sluggishness 
dry mouth 
over the top sweating 
cerebral torment 
squeamishness 
quick heartbeat 
the opinion of warmth and quick becoming flushed of the upper chest, neck, or face (flushing) 
regurgitating /vomitting
In case you think you have overdosed on Syzole Capsule, call a poison control concentrate immediately.
 Security measures while using Syzole 
Before you use Syzole, tell your essential consideration doctor of your therapeutic and prosperity history including the going with: 
liver issues 
low magnesium levels in the blood 
The chances of genuine responses increase if the patient has these issues. Before you use Syzole Capsule, tell your essential consideration doctor if you are antagonistically influenced by it or its fixings. Your PCP may support an elective remedy and update your therapeutic records to record this information. Tell your PCP if you are oversensitive to proton siphon inhibitors (model pantoprazole, rabeprazole, lansoprazole, esomeprazole). The usage of this medicine may change magnesium. Usage of this prescription may provoke lessened magnesium level. So it is urged to screen magnesium level when using the meds that lessening stomach destructive releases (proton siphon inhibitors).
Use in Pregnancy 
Syzole Capsule should be used in pregnancy exactly when required.
Use while Breastfeeding 
Advice with your PCP on the usage of Syzole during breastfeeding. Syzole may go into chest milk and can make certified responses the kid.
Impact on Fertility 
Guidance with your PCP on the usage of Syzole Capsule, if you are endeavoring to envision. The effect of Syzole on an unborn newborn child isn't known.
Befuddlement/Dizziness
Syzole Capsule can make you feel languid. Be wary while driving, using equipment, or doing whatever other development that prerequisites you to be alert. The use of alcohol with Syzole Capsule can make you feel dynamically worn out.
Extended Risk 
Syzole can manufacture your risk of getting maladies/compound existing defilements. Reduction your chances of new pollutions by washing hands regularly, keeping up a key good ways from people who are crippled, balancing wounds, and by not inoculating without looking at with your essential consideration doctor. The meds that decrease stomach destructive outflows (proton siphon inhibitors) extends the threat of stomach and stomach related organs pollutions achieved by microorganisms.
Responses in Children 
Syzole Capsule may cause an extended threat of manifestations in progressively energetic patients. Children using this medicine may see an extended risk of respiratory system issues, and fever.
Whole deal Use 
Use of Syzole for a long time may incite whole deal bothering of the stomach (atrophic gastritis) and grows the threat of bone ailment (osteoporosis) related breaks of the spine, hip or wrist. See more: What protections should be taken during Pregnancy and Nursing, and managing Syzole to Children or the Older Adults?
Syzole Side-impacts 
The going with indications may commonly happen when using Syzole Capsule. If any of these manifestations decrease or prop up for a long time, you should guide with your PCP:
uncommon advancement (kind polyps) in the stomach 
blockage 
free insides 
gas advancement 
cerebral agony 
affliction 
stomach torment 
regurgitating 
The going with responses may routinely occur in increasingly settled patients on the use of Syzole Capsule. Discussion about with your essential consideration doctor if any of these manifestations prop up for a long time or are not kidding: 
the runs/diarrhoea
breaks of the hip, wrist, and spine 
gas plan 
headache 
squeamishness 
stomach torment 
hurling 
incapacitated and delicate bones (osteoporosis) 
The going with indications may for the most part occur in adolescents when using Syzole Capsule. Discussion about with your essential consideration doctor if any of these side effects prop up for a  long time or are not kidding: 
accidental harm 
fever 
respiratory contaminations 
Sometimes, the use of Syzole Capsule may cause the going with responses: 
enmity 
back torment 
turn around of destructive from the stomach (destructive heaving forward) 
hack 
wooziness 
dry mouth 
increased chests in men 
assumption of uneasiness 
feeling dormant 
male example hair sparseness 
extended liver impetuses 
extended sweating 
disturbance inside the mouth 
disturbance of the skin (dermatitis) 
a dozing issue 
joint torment 
muscle torment 
muscle deficiency 
physical deficiency due to nonattendance of essentialness 
genuine shivering 
skin rash 
developing of the feet and lower legs 
taste changes 
shuddering sensation 
upper respiratory ailment 
vertigo 
The going with genuine responses may similarly happen when using Syzole Capsule:
Genuine skin negatively defenseless reactions, for instance, Stevens-Johnson issue, or erythema multiforme 
Signs: skin rashes, the course of action of air pocket under the skin as a result of pollution (bothering of skin), removal of the outer layer of (skin stripping), high fever joint torment
Liver afflictions, for instance, jaundice or liver frustration 
Symptoms: yellowing of skin, dull concealed pee tiredness
Blood issue, for instance, diminished number of white platelets and platelets 
Signs: inadequacy, tear of veins in the skin due to harm (injuring) bound to get a tainting
Low degrees of sodium in the blood 
Reactions: deficiency, disgorging uncontrolled muscle advancements
Low degrees of magnesium in the blood 
Reactions: exhaustion, uncontrolled muscle choking influences, mental perplexity (disarray), seizures, dazedness extended heartbeat The blood tests should be performed to screen the degrees of magnesium in the patients.
Low white platelets 
Reactions: fever, certified inconvenience, throat or mouth inconvenience in peeing
Fixing of the smooth muscles of the lungs (bronchospasm) 
Symptoms: surprising wheezing quickness of breath
Extraordinary kidney issue (interstitial nephritis) 
Exacerbation of the brain 
Extraordinary detachment of the insides 
Your essential consideration doctor has suggested this prescription since they judge that the preferred position is more conspicuous than the risk exhibited by manifestations. Various people using this medication don't have veritable occasions of side effects. This page doesn't contain an all out once-over of every single possible manifestation. If you experience responses or notice inverse manifestations not recorded above, contact your essential consideration doctor for remedial advice. You may in like manner report responses to your close by sustenance and prescription association authority. 
Cautions 
Whole deal Use of Syzole  The whole deal usage of this medication may provoke a decrease in the maintenance of supplement B12.
Usage of Methotrexate 
These patients are at extended risk when using this medication. The usage of proton siphon inhibitors with methotrexate may grow the level of methotrexate in the blood. Patients should quickly stop the use of proton siphon inhibitors during confirmation of the high segment of methotrexate. False Positive Results for Neuroendocrine Tumors  Such patients are at extended risk when using this medicine. Syzole causes an extension in chromogranin A (CGA) protein levels in the blood that lead to false positive results for bizarre improvement of the cells of the endocrine and tactile framework (neuroendocrine tumors). It is urged to stop Syzole treatment by chance before examining CGA levels and in case in case basic degrees of CGA are high, by then the test should be repeated.
Usage of Antidepressants and Antibacterial Drugs 
Patients using antidepressants and antibacterial (rifampin) drugs are at an extended peril when using this solution. In such patients, the degrees of Syzole is lessened. The patients should decline using Syzole with these prescriptions.
Low Magnesium Levels in the Blood 
These patients are at extended risk when using this drug. Such patients may encounter the evil impacts of genuine responses like heart palpitation, seizures and uncontrolled compressions of the muscles. Careful checking of magnesium levels is required before beginning the treatment.
Usage of Clopidogrel (Antiplatelet Medicine) 
These patients are at extended peril when using this prescription. Syzole dodges the antiplatelet effect of clopidogrel. These patients should not take Syzole and clopidogrel together.
Bone Fractures 
Patients using this solution are at extended danger for making frail bone-related breaks of the hip, wrist, or spine. Low segment should be given to these patients for a shorter length.
Bacterium Associated Diarrhea 
Patients using this drug are at extended risk of making Clostridium difficile related free insides. Low segment should be given to these patients for a shorter range.
Genuine Inflammation of the Stomach (Atrophic Gastritis) 
Such patients are at extended peril of making stomach harmful development when using this medication.
Stomach Cancer (Gastric Malignancy) 
Treatment with Syzole doesn't keep away from the closeness of stomach ulcers in these patients.
Use of Other Proton Pump Inhibitors 
Such patients are at an extended danger when using this medication. These patients may encounter the evil impacts of subacute cutaneous lupus erythematosus, the contamination wherein the body's safe system ambushes the sound skin cells. Avoid use of this medication after advice with the authority.
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