this is a copy paste from another post in another channel but i need as much help as possible. i’m sick. suddenly got hit with runny nose and kept sneezing. also have sore throat. been sick since last saturday (it’s wednesday 12am) my period was expected yesterday but it never came. i’m assuming the sudden cold threw off my cycle. i just want my period to be over with as my period cramps can be extremely painful + i have tests and exams coming next week. so i wouldn’t want it to affect my grades (it happened twice before) how do i make it come faster so i can get it over with ? what are signs i should be looking out for so i know it’d come ? lately my stomach have been very bloated or just felt very tight and uncomfortable at night. it’s normal for me but it’s still super uncomfortable.

i have had issues for a dew weeks, it feels like below my knee is like cramped or constricted, and major cramps/pain behind my knee, and my calf ....some Hip pain and major movement restriction in that hip also. not much back pain at all..
does this seem like Sciatica nerve?
Ty

Long story short, doc are trying to figure why I have Heartburn and ThroatBurn and I've been journaling what I've been eating or medication I'm taking that can cause GERD symptoms.
I realised that everytime I'm in my period (bad period pain) I have crazy stomach burning symptoms + burning throat.
Before having theses issues, I would pop legit 6 naproxen a day because of extreme pain ( it's bad I know now, didn't know better back then ). Naproxen (aleeve) is the ONLY med that works, even morphine don't work on managing my pain.
Now, I have other method to help manage my fricking uterus pain once a month, with castor oil and natural remedies, but I still take 1 - 3 naproxen - Aleeve max. in my entire week. I don't remember taking more than 1 a day for the last years or so. But since my stomach is now sensitive to everything , I noticed that my stomach is freaking out evertime I'm on my period and I realised it's related to ONE naproxen for the first and second day.
The question is : Do you guys have pain if taking ONE naproxen? If so, can I prevent having stomach issues by taking Pantoprazole or Omeprazole BEFORE taking my naproxen?
Thank you ! Im seeing my doc in two weeks so I hope some people here can guide me into this!

Humans don’t look like much at first glance.
Herevordal had heard the stories of human berserkers and their battle lust, adrenaline, it was called. Fearsome stories, to be sure. Yet he’d never had the pleasure of battling one sword to sword through all the years of war, until now.
One stood not ten meters from him in the center of the battleship’s main corridor. And he had to admit he was unimpressed. Soft skin, small, no natural weapons, no armor. But at second glance, he saw the eyes, piercing and fathomless. You could tell a lot by reading the Kaal in your enemy’s eyes.
The human stood shirtless and glistening, small wounds striping its body, holding some kind of energy weapon. Herevordal sneered. Only a coward used such things in single combat. A true warrior needed only his blade. Though he shouldn’t have been surprised, this was a human. Yet the eyes gave him pause. Predatory, violent. A promise of death. Perhaps there was more here than what showed on the surface. Herevordal decided to proceed with caution.
The human glanced at Herevordal’s Sha’kai, the large crescent-shaped blade of a Rahkee—the mark of a true warrior. The human shifted its gaze from the Sha’kai into Herevordal’s eyes and, astonishingly, tossed its energy rifle aside. Slowly, the human drew a long, slender sword from a scabbard belted at his hip. How had Herevordal not noticed it before?
He shifted his gaze to the corpses of his Rahkee brethren strewn down the corridor behind the human, limbs tangled in death or curled peacefully around their wounds. Fear stirred his back spines. Could this one human truly have defeated a dozen of the elite Re’Kael guard by itself?
No. That wasn’t possible. There must be others about. Many others. They were probably all dead now, and this was the last of their horde.
Herevordal sublimated the fear rising in his twin hearts and drew himself up to his full towering height. The transverse, spiny crest on his head snapped up and rattled, heightening the effect.
The human showed no reaction.
“Come,” Herevordal growled in his native tongue. “Time to die, human.”
The human cocked its head. It showed a flash of teeth. Square, dull, unimpressive. Herevordal was told this was called a smile; it suggested amusement. He growled deep in his throat.
“You dare mock me? You have no honor.”
The human’s sword came up, and it kissed the blade, muttered something Herevordal did not understand, then, with a sudden rush, leaped forward, accelerating faster than Herevordal would have believed possible.
He brought his Sha’kai up to guard, following the human with his eyes. Gods, but the thing was fast, nearly a blur. Yet he was confident he could anticipate the coming strike.
At the last moment, as Herevordal moved to parry, the human juked left, spun into the air, and bounced off the wall, its blade whistling in a high, downward killing arc.
Herevordal didn’t even have time to flinch.
It wasn’t possible. Nothing could move so swiftly at such abrupt angles. Gods!
His Sha’kai never came close to the human’s steel.
There was a flash of hot pain across Herevordal’s throat and a second sharp explosion in his skull.
Darkness.

I have a graduation project to do in the summer, I have to make a presentation and I imagine how it will go. I don't know, what to do in advance, so that I don't get a similar sound? When I try to resist, it's worse, and if I soften my tone, it's unnatural, looks I'm sleepy, there's no emotion in my voice and I have a feeling in my throat as I can't get my voice out. I don't know how to look at the picture, it mostly happens to me when I'm tired or my heart is racing. As soon as I feel, that my voice is changing, I become more anxious, if the voice sounds good - I am more attuned
What can I do to prevent it? One thing I think is to rest well, but sometimes I don't know when it coming. I'm thinking of going to a therapist too (I've never been), but I don't know how much it will help me? I tried a beta blocker, but it doesn't change anything, I just have trouble concentrating; This is also an additional problem for the presentation
I've had anxiety in general for years, especially when I got off the SSRI. The symptoms are as follows: fatigue, anxiety, neck pain, derealization, loss of concentration, lack of emotion.

Hi everyone,
I'm a 28(F), and this February I had my first-ever panic attack. Since then, I've been dealing with heart palpitations, nausea, muscle tension, lightheadedness, a lump in my throat, tingling in my arms and legs, chest, upper back, and neck pain (sometimes my neck gets stiff), brain fog, and headaches. I've had several lab tests done, but everything came back normal.
My doctor thinks I might be dealing with anxiety and recommended I see a psychiatrist. Unfortunately, mental health care is quite expensive where I live, so I haven't been able to go yet.
Does anyone else experience similar physical symptoms? I feel awful almost every day, and I really want to cry, but I can't. This intense feeling is so overwhelming. I live in constant fear, worrying that my health is deteriorating even though medical tests say I'm physically okay. Whether I'm alone or around people, I get anxious. I try to distract myself, but out of the blue, I get this overwhelming feeling—sometimes it's like an uncomfortable warmth rushing through my body, other times it feels like cold water was splashed on me.
Any advice or shared experiences would be greatly appreciated. Thank you.

A little context: Last year I started with heartburn problems, that's why I went to the doctor and he prescribed me for 3 weeks Esomeprazole and also indicated me to have an endoscopy. After the 3 weeks with esomeprazole, I have felt much better because although I still have a little reflux from time to time, I no longer have that pain in my chest after the reflux. In addition, the endoscopy showed no damage and the doctor told me that everything was fine and that I was a patient who simply generated heartburn with probably no ulcers. After all that, the doctor prescribed me esomeprazole in emergency cases, which I have been using from time to time (maybe 10 times in 4 months).
The current problem: Last week (Wednesday) I had a pretty bad reflux that made it hard for me to sleep. The next day I started to feel a discomfort in my throat but that discomfort is sporadic not constant. The discomfort I feel is as if I have something, at times, pressing on my throat. I think the closest I can describe it is like taking one of your fingers and pressing on your neck towards your upper throat and that little bit of discomfort is similar to what I feel. As I said, that discomfort is sporadic and I haven't noticed it getting worse when eating, or with different positions of my neck or anything. i just occasionally feel the discomfort.
My question is: Do I go to my gastroenterologist again? Or do I try to get an appointment with an otolaryngologist? Has anyone had something similar? Is there anything I can do in the meantime?

42M, 5'9", 240lb, non-smoker, some history of sinus congestion but no previous eustachian tube issues. Got exposed Thursday at a concert (only time it could have happened), by Saturday night my throat was sore. Only mild sinus issues and not much of a cough, but last night my middle ear filled with mucus and won't drain. Took pseudoephedrine, diphenhydramine, acetaminophen and ibuprofen along with lisinopril, and pain subsided. This morning, naproxen, pseudoephedrine and acetaminophen plus adderall, vilazodone and gabapentin.
No pain to speak of now, and breathing clear through my nose with little pressure in other sinus areas. But pressure in the ear remains and hearing is greatly reduced, no high frequencies. Can hear it sloshing in there when I move my head. Have had hope a couple times that it was about to drain, but still stuck. Been running the humidifier since last night, several times have just stood around breathing in steam from the shower. Treatment recommendations at this point? And what duration or signs would send me to a urgent care or an ENT (I'm American so it'd be a considerable expense).

Yes, philodendrons are toxic to humans and pets. They contain calcium oxalate crystals, which can cause irritation, pain, and swelling in the mouth and throat, as well as digestive issues if ingested. Pets, especially cats and dogs, are particularly susceptible to poisoning.

VIZZINI: So, it is down to you. And it is down to me.
The MAN IN BLACK nods and comes nearer.
VIZZINI: If you wish her dead, by all means keep moving forward.
VIZZINI pushes his long knife harder against BUTTERCUP's unprotected throat.
MAN IN BLACK: Let me explain...
VIZZINI: There's nothing to explain. You're trying to kidnap what I've rightfully stolen.
MAN IN BLACK: Perhaps an arrangement can be reached.
VIZZINI: There will be no arrangement [pauses, deliberately] and you're killing her!
VIZZINI jabs with his long knife. BUTTERCUP gasps against the pain. The MAN IN BLACK stops quickly.
MAN IN BLACK: But if there can be no arrangement, then we are at an impasse.
VIZZINI: I'm afraid so -- I can't compete with you physically. And you're no match for my brains.
MAN IN BLACK: You're that smart?
VIZZINI: Let me put it this way: have you ever heard of Plato, Aristotle, Socrates?
MAN IN BLACK: Yes.
VIZZINI: Morons.
MAN IN BLACK: Really? In that case, I challenge you to a battle of wits.
VIZZINI: For the Princess?
The MAN IN BLACK nods.
VIZZINI: To the death?
The MAN IN BLACK nods.
VIZZINI: I accept.
MAN IN BLACK: Good. Then pour the wine.
VIZZINI fills the goblets with wine. The MAN IN BLACK pulls a small packet from his clothing and hands it to VIZZINI.
MAN IN BLACK: Inhale this, but do not touch.
VIZZINI: I smell nothing.
MAN IN BLACK: [Takes the packet back] What you do not smell is called Iocaine powder. It is odorless, tasteless, dissolves instantly in liquid, and is among the more deadlier poisons known to man.
VIZZINI: Hmm.
VIZZINI watches as the MAN IN BLACK takes the goblets, turns his back. A moment later, he turns again, faces VIZZINI, drops the Iocaine packet. It is now empty. The MAN IN BLACK rotates the goblets in a little shell game maneuver then puts one glass in front of VIZZINI and the other in front of himself.
MAN IN BLACK: All right: where is the poison? The battle of wits has begun. It ends when you decide and we both drink, and find out who is right and who is dead.
VIZZINI: But it's so simple. All I have to do is divine from what I know of you. Are you the sort of man who would put the poison into his own goblet, or his enemy's? [pauses to study the MAN IN BLACK] Now, a clever man would put the poison into his own goblet, because he would know that only a great fool would reach for what he was given. I'm not a great fool, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you. But you must have known I was not a great fool; you would have counted on it, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me.
MAN IN BLACK: You've made your decision then?
VIZZINI: Not remotely. Because iocaine comes from Australia, as everyone knows. And Australia is entirely peopled with criminals. And criminals are used to having people not trust them, as you are not trusted by me. So I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you.
MAN IN BLACK: Truly, you have a dizzying intellect.
VIZZINI: Wait till I get going! Where was I?
MAN IN BLACK: Australia.
VIZZINI: Yes -- Australia, and you must have suspected I would have known the powder's origin, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me.
MAN IN BLACK: [beginning nervousness] You're just stalling now.
VIZZINI: You'd like to think that, wouldn't you? You've beaten my giant, which means you're exceptionally strong. So, you could have put the poison in your own goblet, trusting on your strength to save you. So I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you. But, you've also bested my Spaniard which means you must have studied. And in studying, you must have learned that man is mortal so you would have put the poison as far from yourself as possible, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me.
MAN IN BLACK: [nervously] You're trying to trick me into giving away something -- it won't work --
VIZZINI: [triumphant] It has worked -- you've given everything away -- I know where the poison is.
MAN IN BLACK: [fool's courage] Then make your choice.
VIZZINI: I will. And I choose [stops suddenly and points at something behind the Man in Black] what in the world can that be?
MAN IN BLACK: [Turns, looks] What? Where? I don't see anything.
VIZZINI quickly switches the goblets while the MAN IN BLACK has his head turned.
VIZZINI: Oh, well, I-I could have sworn I saw something. No matter.
The MAN IN BLACK turns to face him again. VIZZINI starts to laugh.
MAN IN BLACK: What's so funny?
VIZZINI: I'll tell you in a minute. First, let's drink -- me from my glass, and you from yours.
And he picks up his goblet. The MAN IN BLACK picks up the one in front of him. As they both start to drink, VIZZINI hesitates a moment. Allowing the MAN IN BLACK to drink first, he swallows his wine.
MAN IN BLACK: You guessed wrong.
VIZZINI: [roaring with laughter] You only think I guessed wrong... [louder now] ...that's what's so funny! I switched glasses when your back was turned. Ha-ha, you fool.
The MAN IN BLACK sits silently.
VIZZINI: You fell victim to one of the classic blunders. The most famous is "Never get involved in a land war in Asia." But only slightly less well known is this: "Never go in against a Sicilian when death is on the line!Ahahahaha, ahahahaha, ahahaha--

• thud *

I’m a guest advocate, 5 days straight I was scheduled to work the positions that require the most talking and running around. Everyone in my store has been well aware that I despise being talkative all day long and tend to not talk at all when I’m drive up unless I’m with a guest or grumbling profanities cause my stuff isn’t done properly or my times have gone down. I go on a lovely week long trip tomorrow and have a concert while I’m on my trip that I’ve been trying to see for over 5 years. Well. Having to be in check out and guest services 4 days straight and in drive up for one 6 hour shift killed my feet and throat. Unfortunately drive up day was rough, I had called my roommates trying to figure out who was going to be taking care of my cats as my hire backed out while I was at work and was fuming and cussing pretty heavily. So last night I felt my throat get sore and my nose all runny. I woke up and to nobody’s surprise my lymph nodes are swollen and I’m in severe pain. I called out last night because I knew this would happen, whenever my throat is sore from talking too much my lymph nodes swell. My TL called me in a panic/fit of rage at 7:30 am- half an hour before my shift was supposed to start. I couldn’t talk so I handed my phone to my wife on speaker and had her explain that talking and swallowing hurt and that I’ve gotten sick and just need to rest. My TL demanded that I have to be the one calling out if I’m sick. I called out through the app and my wife was aware of this, she quickly told TL to check my time for target for my call out and said once again that I’m sick and called out properly.

As If It Were Kismet: Prologue
Matt tore through the brush, blind in the dark. He didn’t care where he was going. He only knew he needed to be elsewhere. Far from here.
Behind him a creature howled that shocked his mind. It’s form was cruel and dangerous, though female. Nothing like the young woman she had once been. Nothing but a girl, a small and slight female.
It’s guttural growls and howls only grew closer as Matt tried to pick between seeing where he was going and getting away. The few times he looked he caught sight of the creature behind him. Hopping through the air with a speed that told him he was being toyed with. As if he were a mouse being played with by a cat.
But the reflex in him to run kept him going. His adrenaline going as hard as it could. The tightness and burning in his core tensing and locking up as his legs felt like there were being burned from within while taking on more of a heaviness.
His lungs were starting to betray him as he tried to gulp big breaths of air but only rapid and shallow breaths were all that he could manage. His brain was starting to burn….and then he was falling.
Falling down the side of a hill he saw the creature dart in a spring towards him, imperceivably fast almost. Catching him in mid air it seemed.
Managing to wrap its body around him and cushion his impact against the ground as they rolled. His mind barely took in what was happening during the roll. Only starting to understand what was happening once they were still.
The creature's triple D-cup breasts were unmistakably pressed hard against his back as he laid facing up at the night sky.
For a few seconds the world stilled and the needle light pain hitting the center of his brain took over for the cooking heat his brain had felt. His whole body felt heavy and reluctant to move.
Even if he could have really moved, a dull ache came over his limbs making them feel stilled and trapped as if by immeasurable amounts of sand that had engulfed him.
Slowly the arms holding him started to move. Moving so the creature's hands could start exploring him. Causing Matt to unstoppably let out a pathetic moan that made him go cold inside as hands lifted up his shirt and started to touch his exposed stomach and then his chest.
He would have whimpered so pathetically had he not still been in the depths of terror.
As its hands felt and groped his pecs he tried to situp as if to get away. For his efforts, his reward was a hand around his throat and a collection snarls and growls against his ear. A beastly, guttural voice spat words at him while somehow holding a feminine tone.
“Don’t move….I don’t know if I can calm down…”
Her words were not helped by her moans in his ear and the subsequent kissing of his ear. The flesh of his ear going between her lips as she moaned and seemed to pant. Releasing it and licking the side of his face with a moist warmth. He could feel its spittle, viscous and coating his flesh where the tongue touched. He could smell something in his saliva. Something that subtly entranced him.
Matt went stock still with fear and the confusion of mixed arousal. He barely perceived her right hand traveling lower on his body. A surprised moan and shudder echoed in the night from Matt’s lips as she took ahold of him. Her hand above his pants but still….stimulating him.
A light squeezing and almost probing of her digits kept him aroused and confused within her grasp. Resigning himself to the strange fate, Matt looked up at the stars as his mind tried not to shatter under the strange maelstrom of events and sensation that had started mere minutes ago.
His mind was only more confused as a slight figure, feminine in build, how it seemed to thunk the ground audibly as she landed on her feet out nowhere. Her knees barely bending under the pressure of the landing. Yet dirt was kicked up anyways and some of it onto Matt. Feeling it pepper his shirt and pants as it fell.
The figure, lit only faintly by moonlight, roared some dark tone Matt could only perceive as a demon as her eyes went bright with a crimson light. A light in the darkness that should not have been. “Let him go you bitch.” Was its words following the roar. Spittle escaping its mouth with faint droplets hit Matt's face.
The creature holding him by his throat and crotch seemed to tighten the grasp of both hands as it roared back. “HE IS MINE!”
The figure paused with a moment's hesitation. He was also her quarry. She had felt his fear without him knowing. His confused arousal. His fear. His terror.
And now he laid at the center of a struggle between two monsters. Unsure of who he wanted to win.
As If It Was Kismet Ch. 1
Matthew Berkshire hadn’t seen his mom in two years. Not that he had seen her much over the last six years.
A messy divorce between messy people and mom’s chaotic want for a life in Alaska had been one of the most…upsetting times in life. Setting him up for so much of what had defined his life thus far but then that had really started two years before he ever turned.
His ear buds were basic and simple. A part of cheap five pack, common for his life as he was known to lose little things. Small things. They had a mix of metal and hard rock playing in them. Some classics, some alternative. Whatever made him feel something, anything. Even if it was hate. Anger. Rage. It was better than feeling numb. Not belonging.
The escalator down to his lone bag to go with his lone carry on showed his mom waiting for him. His had a type, that’s for damn sure. Not that it helped him in the genetics department as he was stuck at 5’9” to go along with his mother’s five foot even as his dad stood six foot. Forever leaving him to feel small, to pale, under his dad’s shadow. Did he ever stand a chance?
The guy next to her with the unkempt former seventies porn stache was “Dave.” He’d met him twice when his mother came and visited him in Florida. To his credit the guy didn’t look annoyed. Kind of concerned kind of which made Matthew want to break his frozen look but he was well practiced. Having removed any note of sadness from his face through much…tribulation.
His mother’s look on her face betrayed a hint of worry as the bruises on his face lightly showed up close. Saying his name was his like a distant echo that belonged to someone else.
Dave cut in and pulled out his right headphone. “What the hell bud, they knock you hard enough to hurt hearing? Your mom’s asking how you are doing.”
Matthew pulled out the other bud and grunted an empty “sorry.”
“You still have bruises after two week? What did they do to you?” His mom’s voice was full of worry. Something he hadn’t heard in….too long. Too long to make him feel anything. To ever make him believe there was any sincerity to her words. To not think her voice and mannerisms were an act. An act by someone who…wasn’t really there.
“It’s only fair. I took a nose. Fractured a couple orbital bones. Left one with having to get his jaw wired shut. And one will never walk right again for what I did to his knee cap.” Matthew said it all with a bored and disinterested tone. Perhaps well rehearsed.
“My man, handing out ass kickings, not bothering to take names.” Dave was quick to be the typical man’s man about it. Matthew wasn’t quite done yet. Lifting up his shirt to expose the right side near his kidney. Revealing a nasty scar from a six inch blade. “Luckily they gave me this first so they could rule it all in self-defense. The fuck didn’t get it in more than inch before I ruined his knee cap and then I took the nose of one of the fucks holding me.” Now he chose to smile keeping the well practiced dead look in his eyes.
No retorts. No questions. Just horrified looks on their faces. As he liked. As he preferred. They could hate him. They could be disgusted by him. But by God they would fear him.
“Well the doc did a good job sewing you up.” Dave commented uncomfortably. “Dissolving sutures. Ain’t they grand.” He smiled again and let it abruptly fall off his face and started walking to the carousel for the baggage claim.
Waiting and making small talk with Dave as his mother stood in silence. He was not the little boy she abandoned. The little boy she left with an angry man. While never hitting him. Left him in constant fear till he turned twelve and just didn’t care anymore. Something snapped. Broke. And he didn’t care if he died. Didn’t care if he stole. Didn’t even care if he killed. He just knew not to get caught. Something left over from his grandfather’s wisdom which came to make more and more sense with each passing year of life since that thing inside him broke.
Finally his bag came around and Dave went to try first to grab it but Dave practically leapt ahead of him. “Is that your grandfather’s rucksack bag?” his mother asked in a perplexed voice.
“Figured it’s been around since Viet Nam. So it’d serve me better than any of the worthless stuff they called luggage.” Dave commented after Matthew’s words. “Well hell yeah I still got mine from Desert Storm. You know the first one.” Dave laughed and Matthew eyed him oddly. Be it in the south or whether it was Alaska, country boys are country boys he guessed.
The car ride to the two people’s house, as Matthew thought of them. Was uneventful and full of vistas he imagined metropolitan types wetting themselves over. At most they meant isolation to him. Furtherness from the world as there were no mountains in Florida. And what mountains he had last seen in another state had been when he was eight. Another life, to Matthew it felt like. A life alien to him.
As If It Was Kismet Ch 2
Dave and his mom’s place was some two story type tucked into a tree line far up an elevated point. It was by no means the highest point in the mountain but it certainly felt up there.
Rocks were where the driveway should have been Matthew thought. Grabbing his backpack and rucksack from Dave’s jeep was no hard thing for him. Matthew was in formidable shape for someone his age, maybe even five years older. He had gotten a mix of fairly big shoulders and arms along with the chest to go for it when compared to most kids his age. A side effect of working out at least twice a day. First thing in the morning, some time in the evening, and the school’s gym when had had a good semester in school before he had to leave Florida.
Dave tried to come up and help him but Matthew walked past him towards the house. His mom was not sure what to make of his demeanor. Matthew was not the sweet kind boy he had once been. But she had been gone from his life essentially for a long time.
Ushering him into the house she cracked some joke he did not hear. He was too busy looking about and seeing a mix of old outdated decorating mixed with the strange and odd flair of his mother. Color contrasting against drab and dated. Like brightly painting over an old home that was falling apart he thought.
“Your room is this way Mattie.” His mom brightly intoned.
Without expressing any interest he followed his mother. Still faced and nonplussed. Just going along with the current. Pushed and pulled with its roll like a piece of driftwood.
The room was simple. A single small bed. A set of rubber weights with a curl bar and barbells. “Your dad said you were into weight lifting so we got you a bunch of stuff. Dave says it looks like his department’s gym almost. The woman’s smile felt very alien to him.
“Thank you. I appreciate it. I’ve got most of my stuff from home.” Matthew starting unpacking his rucksack and pulled out cables of repetitive and mixed colors. A single plastic barbell handle. The ruck sack could be filled with water bottles for added weight during pushups he figured. Remembering a Michael Keaton movie he watched with his dad post-Batman movies where he played a convicted killer using plastic bags filled with water for weights.
Matthew caught movement outside his lone fairly large window that could let him step out onto the roof of the house given its layout.
He saw a number of people running together through what he guessed was the backyard of the property, not that it had any fences to mark boundaries
They wore clothes that looked similar yet different from each other at the same time.”Oh those are the Johnston’s. Really nice bunch of people. Been on the mountain for a long time Dave tells me.”
Matthew looked at the group of people running and noticed the lack of resemblance. “They are related?” Matthew quizzically asked. Seeing a black and possibly a hispanic person amongst the bland looking white people.
“Oh well they are all adopted but for one or two of them…besides the parents of course. The family has a long tradition of taking in orphans they say. Real nice of them to do that don’t you think.”
Matthew looked at his mother and the hosier accent made no sense to him as he arched his left eye brow. Her and his dad were both from Florida. Born and raised. Sure her parents were from New York city but…
Matthew shook his lightly without turning to look at his mother as his vision was grabbed by one of the runners in particular. A girl of moderate height. Soft brunette. A plain beauty he figured with a slim build….and lack of remarkable breasts and rear to make any note of but….girls in general were his type at his age.
She was pretty enough. He couldn’t deny that but he found himself transfixed by her visage.
But the way she turned and looked at him, especially at that distance felt very disconcerting to him. Even if she was smiling like…she was a taste of a bright shiny day. Somehow.
Matthew’s mom noticed the exchange and smiled to herself with closed lips. “Oh that’s Vicky. She’s your age I think. Very sweet girl, who does the charity functions. You know bake sales, blood drives, car washes and the like. I think you should get to know her. Might be good for you.”
A truck horn sounded a couple of beeps in rather succession. “Oh that must be Mack, he said he might come by later this evening but he seems early.”
Matthew’s mother turned and left his room. Leaving Matthew to exchange a few looks with the alluring Vicky as she turned her head away from him to talk to the others in her group and look back at him.
Still Matthew’s left eyebrow was arched. In a way that reminded him of Spock from Star Trek that he and his grandpa used to watch on some streaming service or another.
As he heard ambient chatter elsewhere outside the house he figured to check it out as the alluring sight of Vicky would be around he figured. It was dull to stare at artwork. He was a boy who preferred jet skis and the like. Something he could ride and enjoy immensely. Even if at times it got him stabbed.
As If It Was Kismet Ch 3
Matthew sauntered out of the house and down the rockway that stood in for a driveway.
A few new people had come over from what he could first surmise of the situation. As he got closer it was obvious they were indigenous people. A couple of grown men…and a girl?
She was mousey. Maybe five foot. Hiding behind glasses and a big camo jacket that was far too big for her. It looked made for a grown man and the backwards trucker hat on her head kept her long black a beautiful mess of sorts.
She was cute in a way. A little androgynous but she had a cute energy to her. She reminded him of the more tomboyish Puerto Rican girls he had gotten into back in Florida. Given the deer corpses in the back of the truck….probably more dangerous to play with given the men in her family.
Small chatter passed between the adults when the girl noticed but turned away, trying to hide the tiny hint of a smile.
“Oh Mattie, this is Mack. He works with Dave at the sheriff’s department and John, he’s with fish and wildlife.” Matthew nodded at his mom’s words with some blankness as he looked at the deer the in the back of the pickup truck.
“Gale tells us you hunted with your dad some in Florida and Georgia.” Mack offered with a light hearted laugh camouflaged by his big simple and cheery but husky way he spoke.
Looking in the back of the truck he spoke. “We used lever action thirty-thirties and Mosin Nagants in seven-six-two-fifty-four-rimmed.” Mack and John whistled in an exaggerated fashion. Leaving Matthew to wonder if they were mocking him.
Mack spoke. “Well we just used thirty-odd-six in a custom gussied Garand.” That caught Matthew’s attention. “You have a Garand…” Matthew finally demonstrated interest in anything. “My dad has an SVT-40 and a Hakim 8mm but he always wanted a Garand but was too cheap to buy one.”
Gale, his mother, chimed in loudly. “Oh his Dad loved his guns but was such an odd duck about how he bought or why he bought them. Never made sense to me how he wasn’t a collector but he didn’t get the latest and greatest.” Gale laughed uncomfortably. At least it seemed that way to Matthew.
Matthew pointed to the girl with an underhanded pointing hand. “And who is this? A cute little mute mouse or does she have a name?” Dave and the other men laughed.
Mack again spoke. “Well you people call her Rebecca, she’s my adopted daughter.” Matthew was taken aback by what he heard. “You people?”
Rebecca kindly spoke with a soft but almost melodic voice as she struggled to maintain eye contact. “White people or rather not members of our tribe. It’s just easier to appease the colonizer kind of thing. Borrowed from when the Jesuit missionaries chased us up here.”
Mack stepped in. “It’s just easier to have white people names than have them try to say our tribal names. And we don’t want them shortening or Anglicising our names kind of thing.” Rebecca stepped back into the conversation cutting off her adopted father. “It’s an insult to our history basically.”
Matthew cocked his head sideways raising his eyebrows shortly before letting them drop. “Well as soon as I’m eighteen I’m out of here and back to Florida so I’m a sort of involuntary colonizer of sorts. So I won’t be taking any of your land from you. The Seminoles on the other hand are still shit out of luck.”
Rebecca’s smile caused Matthew to reflexively smile. Mack made the moment more awkward. “See Becca, I told you someone off the reservation would like you some. You just have to be creative.” Mack laughed in a chiding manner…Matthew presumed. He sensed that he was the butt of some kind of cultural joke. Like marrying a white guy was some sort of insult or mark of shame. That kind of thing.
Rebecca turning away from him was not something he had been expecting. Her then getting in the truck in a huff left the group in a silence for a moment.
Dave spoke to break the awkward silence. “Well just bring the truck to work on Monday and leave it for me to grab up.” Mack acknowledged Dave and they started to get off as Rebecca looked at Matthew for another instance. Matthew couldn’t look away for some reason as the two seemed to lock eyes for an instance.
Till Vicky and family seemed to come jogging down the road. While Matthew’s eyes diverted from Rebecca’s. Hers did not till she realized he was looking elsewhere. And her vision found Vicky and what had been a hint of smile on her face turned glum and disappointed.
Matthew did not look away from the vision of Vicky but instead of a starry eyed fool looking longingly. It was a baffled look. Well baffled for him, with his eyes drawn narrow and night with a focus.
There was something about her…he couldn’t quite put a name too. The way she appeared to him. One second brunette. The next second blonde or blonde like. As if the color appeared in her air and disappeared in fractions of seconds. Much the same way her body almost seemed to…shift…very subtly…smoothly. A nicer bum. Larger breasts. And then back to a simple and plain form. Feminine no doubt. Attractive. But not so…remarkable.
As If It Was Kismet Ch 4
The next two days passed without incident. Nothing of any real substance or challenge to note.
Matthew got settled somewhat and started working out almost immediately. Exploring around the woods but Dave told him not to go far. Especially without a hunting rifle. Dave had left a simple semi-auto Winchester out for him. His bear gun as Dave referred to it with its four round magazine. But Matt figured till he got some practice with the rifle to leave it alone. He made a hiking stick like his grandpa taught him and treated it over a low fire. He would take some electrical tape for the end his hand would grip around. Plenty enough to ward off anything smaller than a bear he figured.
The ride to school was a pain in the neck but simple enough. Dave would let him use a clunker pickup truck he had laying around. It wasn’t pretty but it would get him to and from. Even if it was from the eighties and still backfired on occasion. But for now Dave and his mom took him on their way to the sheriff’s department.
It wasn’t much of a school. It wanted to be modern but its fifties original construction was very obvious. It serviced the pipeline families and familys’ of fisherman who worked the seasons in between their time at the pipeline.
Matt was to report to the principal for some reason Dave and his mom wouldn’t share. Which annoyed him but he figured it was to read him the law of land. Small towns with their big views of the outside world and like.
Dressed in jeans, a grey sweatshirt under a light jacket with steel toed boots set him more apart then he expected. His buzzed head didn’t help matters. Already he was feeling like a stranger in a strange land but he was quite strange after all. And he liked it that way. Normal people were so pathetically disappointing to him.
A secretary or assistant or some such led him to the principal’s office. Where it reeked of real wood that was old and fabric and upholstery that needed to be updated for the last twenty years, Matt figured.
“This is Matthew Berkshire, Principal Andrews.” The man was turned with his back to the door and he was quick to wave her off as he turned her around.
He was an older man. Fat and large. Tall with a body built like he had once been fit and a demeanour of annoyed and irate already as he fixed Matt with a scowl and look of disgust. Another worthless government whore. Matt thought to himself. His father and his grandfather had bestowed unto him a natural disrespect for government workers and the figures that wore unjustified authority as a shield but pretended the weight of the state was not at their back ready to crush all who resisted. Little figures of valor pretending to be mighty and alone but acting with the tyranny of the state and all the backing.
“Mr. Berkshire, please sit down.” His tone wasn’t unusually hostile, just gruff. As if he had better things to do.
Matt complied and took a seat in the chair while maintaining a friendly facade. Not everyone was an enemy. And not everyone needed to be an enemy. Even if anybody could be any enemy. There was no reason to make enemies you didn’t have to. Another of his grandfather’s bastardised wisdoms.
“Well I looked over you file and you have quite the history Mr. Berkshire.” Matt resisted qiuping back a joke. Instead he waited for Principal Andrews to continue as he remained nonplussed and looking as if he felt no need to respond. A simple head tilt with dead eyes looking back at the principle as if he was not even there would suffice.
Matt’s reaction or lack of a reaction rather made Principal Andrews only narrow his eyes with examination. He was not used to a kid not responding to him. Especially with his gruff and hard act going on.
“Well by all accounts you moved here after some problems at your last school. A fight broke out and you did some real harm to your fellow students it appears.” Of course, he would take the side of the perpetrators. School administrators always did. Especially when they weren’t white. Just a fact of the times. Cowardice and pathetic mediocrity was the way they leaned, like good government workers sucking the dick of Big Daddy government. Worthless whores.
Matt chose to reply. “Oh you mean the criminals that stabbed me. Got arrested at the hospital and then pled to felonies. Yeah Florida, with the American counties are good like that.” Principal Andrews went real still. No shame. No fear. No penitence. He didn’t like that.
“Well be it as it may Mr. Berkshire we don’t tolerate that kind of behaviour here…” Matt cut him off responding with a deadpan tone. “You mean self-defense meant to save one’s own life while the cowardly and pathetic school workers look on with zero interest but to keep their money rolling in and will allow known gang members with records of violent acts and crimes that should have them expelled many times over, where in certain Democrat counties such cowardice and idiocy empowered a couple school shooters?”
Principal Andrews looked at the Matt with a note of disgust. “Look here Mr. Berkshire, your beliefs matter not one bit here. This isn’t Florida. We don’t like our way of life being disrupted by outside agitators who have problems with authority.”
Matt did his best not to roll his eyes and let the older fat man drone own as he dead-stared him. Lifeless and without emotion.
The man came to a finish and Matt spoke up without having listened to him or paid him any attention. “Great now that’s taken care of. Can I please get to class and finish my sentence of two years at your wonderful school?”
Principal Andrews huffed and snorted before calling in Vicky. Vicky stood in the corner after entering with a quiet and seamless presence. Matt felt disturbed and tried not betray his feelings as the young Vicky was perceived and not perceived to be moving.
Principal Andrews made the introductions and Matt nodded back. She was to be his chaperone for the day. They had the same classes and she was to show him the ropes so to speak. The ins and outs of the school. The locations of their classes.
He recognized her. It was hard not to. The way her appearance seemed to shift fluidly almost. The petite and skinny brunette ever so lightly had a big bust and blonde hair with curves added when she seemed to shift before his eyes. Like watching a film but each frame had a different person.
Matt didn’t say anything about it. Even if he did he would only be acknowledging his crazed state, if he had one. If.
Unlike an obedient puppy dog he got up in a slow and awkward fashion and followed behind her as his oddly disproportionate frame allowed. Causing her a note of concern for some reason. As if she was seeing something she shouldn’t have been….Or he was just weird. And Matt could admit to himself he was just weird. Part of his charm, he would jest about it at times. Not that he had many people to jest to now.
As If It Were Kismet Ch. 5
Following Vicky into the hall off to their first class was simple. She exchanged small talk and he slightly smiled as if to obviously suggest he was just being polite.
Inside his head, Matt was trying to figure out if he was having a psychotic break. The way Vicky looked kept changing and he looked at the other people around him and they stayed the same.
He was searching his mind as they were walking. And thus he wasn’t paying attention to where he was looking and so fell to his face forward over his feet seemingly out of nowhere.
A series of laughs erupted as it sunk in that he was obviously tripped. Like in prison this was a challenge to his superiority. If he let this pass he would be mocked and sneered at by this same group of boys. He wouldn’t walk to them like he was going to do nothing like a little bitch.
In a rage he turned and punched the stomach of the first face he saw. Some typical blonde haired wannabe jock. He knew from experience not to aim for the ribs. Instead he needed to aim for where he thought the belly button was.
Yells and screams blindly echoed around him as his after the punch he followed up his elbow of the opposite arm slamming into the face of the jock. Harder than a fist, the elbow struck the jock’s jaw and seemingly dropped him against a locker. Just in time to catch an errant and soft punch to the nose that sure enough hurt but did little to slow him down as his dad had taught him to fight through the pain. Blood and scars happened. They were a natural consequence of life to a man.
Taking the punch and falling further into his red state Matt headbutted the punch thrower before another guy arm bared his throat from behind. Which he managed to get his grip on the arm over a letterman jacked and jerk the unprepared boy to the side with him still latched on.
A few feet away from the lockers Matt knew his only chance was to jump and push off the lockers and knock the boy to the ground and so he did. He heard a thunk of the boy’s skull bouncing off the ground and he turned to pull out of the grapple.
The beatings he had taken from his father, the grapples, being choked unconscious. Had prepared him for fighting little bitches who didn’t know what a fight was. It wasn’t gay porn with rabbit punch fists flying.
Blood was running down his face and the pain started to hit him as the threats had been eliminated. Only then did he remember to breathe. Taking breathes as Vicky came up to him with tissues and took a hold of his nose.
“Owww owww owww what the fuck my nose could be broken.” He said to Vicky as she pulled his head up and back.
“It’s ok Carl. It’s done.” Matt tried to look to see who Vicky was talking to. It was a boy taller than his 5’9” by more than a small margin. The boy eyed him bored and annoyed before speaking. “What happened here?” An unoriginal line but one Matt couldn’t be a smart aleck about. “Well you see there was an outbreak of tripping and we all tripped over my dick. It happens.” Matt was about to laugh when Vicky seemed to pull up while still gripping his nose causing Matt no small amount of pain which he audibly evidenced.
Vicky spoke in a tone he wasn’t expecting. As if she was accustomed to issuing orders. “Keep Iris away from the hall till we sanitize the site. We have blood from at least three people contaminating the site. And have Jake bring me a spare jacket and shirt for this moron.”
Carl seemed to acknowledge her orders and seemed to blink away. Maybe the punch hit harder than he expected. He had no time to wonder as Vick took her hand away from his and pushed him against the lockers. With ease he had not been expecting from her form and stature.
Before he could respond Vicky licked his blood covered chin and then his lips and spoke to him. “Focus on me you little blood bag.” Her tone had an annoyed yet feminine sneer.
“Look into my eyes. Look at me. You belong to me. You are just another food source in a collection of food sources.” Her eyes were a beautiful hazel Matt thought. Almost green. Pretty like jewels in some old treasure collections. The eyes he could get lost in before kissing her. Finally Vicky was just a slight and petite brunette and he thought she was beautiful.
She would make a hell of a girlfriend. Some cute thing he could see laying on the beach in Florida on their sides laughing and smiling before trading light kisses while hands wandered innocently. Before his mind could drift further he felt her lips on his. It took him a second to mentally grasp the kiss but his arms were around her back as her hands were at his sides. His eyes reflexively closed as he saw hers close.
It was ineffable to Matt. Beyond words, what was happening. The kiss, the moments beforehand. The way his brain tickled with electricity and gentle warmth. He had never had a kiss like this and he had traded more than a few kisses with at least a few girls.
The kiss was like a warm bath with his consciousness slipping beneath the surface. Their lips only parted to try new angles and approaches as Matt struggled to take in breath. It was a moment he could have stayed trapped in for….he didn’t know. But a curt throat clearing by another girl pulled them out of the moment.
The girl was taller than Vicky. Blonde. With slight curves. Vicky addressed her bewildered and gobsmacked, and perhaps a bit embarrassed. “Tina?”

As If It Were Kismet Ch. 5
Following Vicky into the hall off to their first class was simple. She exchanged small talk and he slightly smiled as if to obviously suggest he was just being polite.
Inside his head, Matt was trying to figure out if he was having a psychotic break. The way Vicky looked kept changing and he looked at the other people around him and they stayed the same.
He was searching his mind as they were walking. And thus he wasn’t paying attention to where he was looking and so fell to his face forward over his feet seemingly out of nowhere.
A series of laughs erupted as it sunk in that he was obviously tripped. Like in prison this was a challenge to his superiority. If he let this pass he would be mocked and sneered at by this same group of boys. He wouldn’t walk to them like he was going to do nothing like a little bitch.
In a rage he turned and punched the stomach of the first face he saw. Some typical blonde haired wannabe jock. He knew from experience not to aim for the ribs. Instead he needed to aim for where he thought the belly button was.
Yells and screams blindly echoed around him as his after the punch he followed up his elbow of the opposite arm slamming into the face of the jock. Harder than a fist, the elbow struck the jock’s jaw and seemingly dropped him against a locker. Just in time to catch an errant and soft punch to the nose that sure enough hurt but did little to slow him down as his dad had taught him to fight through the pain. Blood and scars happened. They were a natural consequence of life to a man.
Taking the punch and falling further into his red state Matt headbutted the punch thrower before another guy arm bared his throat from behind. Which he managed to get his grip on the arm over a letterman jacked and jerk the unprepared boy to the side with him still latched on.
A few feet away from the lockers Matt knew his only chance was to jump and push off the lockers and knock the boy to the ground and so he did. He heard a thunk of the boy’s skull bouncing off the ground and he turned to pull out of the grapple.
The beatings he had taken from his father, the grapples, being choked unconscious. Had prepared him for fighting little bitches who didn’t know what a fight was. It wasn’t gay porn with rabbit punch fists flying.
Blood was running down his face and the pain started to hit him as the threats had been eliminated. Only then did he remember to breathe. Taking breathes as Vicky came up to him with tissues and took a hold of his nose.
“Owww owww owww what the fuck my nose could be broken.” He said to Vicky as she pulled his head up and back.
“It’s ok Carl. It’s done.” Matt tried to look to see who Vicky was talking to. It was a boy taller than his 5’9” by more than a small margin. The boy eyed him bored and annoyed before speaking. “What happened here?” An unoriginal line but one Matt couldn’t be a smart aleck about. “Well you see there was an outbreak of tripping and we all tripped over my dick. It happens.” Matt was about to laugh when Vicky seemed to pull up while still gripping his nose causing Matt no small amount of pain which he audibly evidenced.
Vicky spoke in a tone he wasn’t expecting. As if she was accustomed to issuing orders. “Keep Iris away from the hall till we sanitize the site. We have blood from at least three people contaminating the site. And have Jake bring me a spare jacket and shirt for this moron.”
Carl seemed to acknowledge her orders and seemed to blink away. Maybe the punch hit harder than he expected. He had no time to wonder as Vick took her hand away from his and pushed him against the lockers. With ease he had not been expecting from her form and stature.
Before he could respond Vicky licked his blood covered chin and then his lips and spoke to him. “Focus on me you little blood bag.” Her tone had an annoyed yet feminine sneer.
“Look into my eyes. Look at me. You belong to me. You are just another food source in a collection of food sources.” Her eyes were a beautiful hazel Matt thought. Almost green. Pretty like jewels in some old treasure collections. The eyes he could get lost in before kissing her. Finally Vicky was just a slight and petite brunette and he thought she was beautiful.
She would make a hell of a girlfriend. Some cute thing he could see laying on the beach in Florida on their sides laughing and smiling before trading light kisses while hands wandered innocently. Before his mind could drift further he felt her lips on his. It took him a second to mentally grasp the kiss but his arms were around her back as her hands were at his sides. His eyes reflexively closed as he saw hers close.
It was ineffable to Matt. Beyond words, what was happening. The kiss, the moments beforehand. The way his brain tickled with electricity and gentle warmth. He had never had a kiss like this and he had traded more than a few kisses with at least a few girls.
The kiss was like a warm bath with his consciousness slipping beneath the surface. Their lips only parted to try new angles and approaches as Matt struggled to take in breath. It was a moment he could have stayed trapped in for….he didn’t know. But a curt throat clearing by another girl pulled them out of the moment.
The girl was taller than Vicky. Blonde. With slight curves. Vicky addressed her bewildered and gobsmacked, and perhaps a bit embarrassed. “Tina?”

Helena Pederson had few people knock on the door to her cabin. A life ostracized from her community left her with mostly her chickens and sheep and her dog for company, though there were several friendships that sustained themselves despite her exile. She grew food in her garden but also traded, her chickens giving her more eggs than she needed and her sheep growing wool she used to knit.
The knock that came at night drew her out of a reverie, having been sitting on her couch, sipping a cup of tea she’d just brewed. Her dog Grant lifted his head in curiosity, but didn’t bark, accustomed to knocks and not interested in wasting energy at his older age. Hesitating, Helena put the cup down in its saucer and stood, her socks still on to keep her toes warm against the chill of her hardwood floors. She went to the door, opening it wide.
She stared. “Marius,” she finally managed.
The king stood before her in clothing that made it almost difficult to recognize him. Whether it was the beautiful robes he wore for ceremonies or impeccably sewn clothes for day-to-day life, he always appeared as a king should. But now he was draped in a shabby, worn cloak that covered whatever he wore beneath. She saw his horse nearby, tied to a post, but he was alone, not accompanied by so much as a single guard.
“Helena,” he answered softly. “May I come in?”
Pursing her lips, she paused tersely for a long moment before she moved aside. Marius pulled back the hood of his cloak and stepped inside as Grant trotted over to take in his scent. The unfamiliar presence in the dog’s home made him wary, but the demeanor of his master and her permitting his entrance kept the dog from so much as growling.
Helena shut the door and walked over to the kitchen area. “You still take your tea the same?”
“I do.”
Marius sat on the couch and Grant plodded back over to his bed, laying down on it but keeping his head up and aware. The seconds ticked by slowly as Helena poured the still boiling hot water into another cup. She prepared it as she remembered, down to the exact size of the splash of milk, bringing it over on a saucer.
Marius nodded once in thanks and blew on it before taking a careful sip. Helena took a seat in the handcrafted wooden chair adjacent to the couch rather than beside the king, dismissing her own cup of tea, letting it cool, forgotten. “What’s happened?”
The king paused, taking another sip of tea that Helena knew was still hot enough to burn his tongue. “The battle at Hempstead. We lost…too many men. The situation is declining sharply, and the Empire threatens to overtake the kingdom.”
Helena took in and let out a deep breath, silently. She shook her head. “I know you’ve worked hard to protect this kingdom, and you’ll do what’s best. You always do.”
Marius raised his gaze to meet hers. “Always?”
Helena’s face tightened into a glare. No. Not always. “That doesn’t tell me anything,” she said. “What in God’s name would bring you to my door?”
“Desperation,” he confessed. He took another sip of the tea. “The Empire brings subjugation. They rule with an iron fist and many will die just in their invasion alone. And of course, many men will be conscripted.”
“Are you here to…complain?” Helena asked, leaning back in her chair, confusion thick in her tone.
Marius sighed. “No, Helena, I’m here…” He paused heavily before he met her gaze, with some effort, she noticed. “I’m here to ask for your help.”
Helena stared for a long moment before her confusion turned to shock. “You…” She swallowed hard. “Help.”
The king placed the tea down on the saucer on the table in front of him. “These are my people,” he whispered. “And they will suffer, and there is nothing I can do but watch as it happens. They deserve better.”
“And I didn’t?” she asked, a vice gripping her heart as she felt emotion swell up inside her. “You come asking for help? Your nerve, your arrogance, is unmatched. Besides which, what would you have me do?”
“I need an army that will not fall from an arrow or a sword, and army that feels no pain, that follows orders just as my men do,” he told her. He visibly forced the words out and Helena’s expression descended further into disbelief as he spoke each one. “We have thousands of dead soldiers. Helena, I am more desperate than I’ve ever been because I know what is coming for my citizens and I am afraid.”
Helena’s face twitched in disgust. “I told you,” she whispered, “that I only ever did this for those mourning a loss. For a last goodbye, for a grieving widow or parent or child. And now you come here to ask me to use my skills to raise you an army?”
“I’ve no right.”
“You don’t.” She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat and regulated her breathing, refusing to allow herself to descend into tears. “I’m an exile, Marius. Because of you. What makes you think I would even consider doing this?”
“Because you’re a good person,” he said quietly. Helena’s eyes narrowed in anger. “You broke the law, repeatedly and with no remorse. It forced my hand, you must know that-”
“You are king,” she said. “Nothing forces your hand.”
Marius fell silent for a long moment. “I know I’ve not seen you for many years, but I still care for your well-being. I still have love for you. I’m not sure if that changes anything here, if it’s even relevant, but I wanted to say it, nonetheless. You’re still my sister.”
Helena’s expression slid into a wearied resignation. “Is that meant to sway my response here? This is an affront to everything I’ve ever tried to do with my necromancy.”
“It’s simply the truth.”
They lapsed into a long silence. “What makes you think I could even wield such power? Over so many at once?”
“You would have support,” he answered. “I’ve come to you first, but if you agree to help, there are other witches who would support you with their power. And the battle won’t be lengthy. It can’t be. We need a show of strength that turns the tides, that reveals we will not be conquered as easily as those who’ve fallen in their path so far.”
Helena slowly leaned back in his chair. “They could try the same thing, you know,” she muttered. “They surely have the same intolerance for my kind of magic, but they will find other necromancers among their people if they truly must. Where will you be then? Your soldiers will be pulled back to their decaying, bloody bodies, forced into battle until they can no longer stand, until their spirits untether from this realm because there is nothing left to hold to. The Empire will be the same. All soldiers will fall and even their corpses will become useless, falling to the ground as desecrated shells. What then?”
“I don’t know,” Marius said softly. “I only know that I need to try. I promised that I would try everything to keep our kingdom, to keep their families, safe. And I intent to keep that promise. To try everything.”
Helena’s gaze slid over to her now chilly cup of tea, a part of her wishing she had ignored that knock at the door. She folded her arms around her tightly, emotions she couldn’t describe roiling inside her, trying to hold tight to the life she’d had ten minutes ago. A life that was simple and, in a way, quite sad, but it was enviable from the position she found herself in now.
“How can I say no?” she whispered. Helena met her brother’s eyes, seeing in them a mixture of relief and utter despair. “I’m an outcast of the highest order save for a special few of my oldest friends, but they are still my people. I remember my home in the village, the children who would play in the streets, their parents doing their best to support their families and to simply…live their lives. I couldn’t leave them to be trampled underfoot in a war that is determined to arrive at their doorstep.
“And I hate you for it,” she continued, her gaze thick with a burden of emotion. “I will always hate you for it.”
“That is something I am willing to live with, and I’d expected nothing less,” he said.
Helena pushed herself to her feet. “I’m determined to have one last cup of tea. Then I’ll need someone to look after my animals. You can send word to Kasper Friis; he’d be willing. And then…” She let out an exhausted sigh. “Then…we prepare for battle.”
***
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31F. About a week ago I had some bumps develop on my neck. They looked somewhat like cystic acne but felt different - they were a bit itchy and hurt if I squeezed them. I tried taking allergy meds and applying hydrocortisone 1% thinking it was hives, but it didn’t help. I switched today to polysporin after 5 days of hydrocortisone in case it is bacterial but I’m not confident. Currently, there are more bumps than when I started, but they are smaller, no longer painful or itchy except one, and sort of look like they’re healing except that they’re still red and more plentiful than when I started. The rash isn’t anywhere except the front of my throat. Any ideas what it could be? I’ll try to add a photo to the comments

does anyone else get weird anxious episodes which last for a couple days and you feel like you cant breathe and dont get enough air in your lungs, also chest pains and feeling nauseous from your throat to your stomach also tingles all over your body like you are constantly getting jumpscared

Hello! I'm a 35/F in Canada, with a history of mild asthma. Non-smoker In early March I got strep throat - doc never did a swab but my tonsils were swollen & patchy white/black. She gave me amoxicillin and that helped. 2 weeks later I could feel something brewing in my chest, I tried to fight it on my own but ended up stopping by a pharmacy where he gave me salbutamol + 5 days of prednisone. That kind of helped, so I ended up at the hospital because of thr weight on my chest. Chest xrays came back clear, that doc gave me amoxicillin again and the round purple inhaler, advair. Went back to the hospital a week later. Doc took blood work, everything was normal (rbc was slightly elevated but was never mentioned) I was still coughing up phlegm, I couldn't sleep on my right side or I could feel the weight of my chest and start coughing again. Mid-April things finally started getting slightly better, but then they seemed to go back to square one a week later. I've been to the hospital + a clinic x2 now, got an EKG done it was normal....got more prednisone and was told to double up on the advair. Takes the edge off but it's not helping overall. A repeat xray last week showed nothing
Now in May I'm still coughing - seems dry during the day and wet at night, I can only sleep on my stomach or sitting up but wake up constantly coughing. If I lie on my side I get a bad wet cough that makes me feel like I'm choking. Sometimes I cough so hard I puke, or I can't seem to hold my bladder or I get pain behind my left eye..like a Charlie horse but in my eye. My chest hurts, my throat is sore from all the coughing. Same with my stomach muscles. When I take a breath in, I can feel pain on my right side/right lung?. If I turn my neck, lean forward, hiccup etc I start coughing again.
At night I take 2 puffs of salbutamol, 2 puffs of advair, an allergra, nasal spray and 2 tablespoons of benelyn and a tea with honey to help a scratchy throat
I go back to see the clinic dr today, I'm miserable.
Thank you in advance

I have been battling with what I believe to be Candida over the course of almost 2 years. I will jump straight to the point. My main symptoms are a white coated tongue (becomes very dry when speaking), pressure on the throat area, pain and swollen under the left and right rib cages, especially apparent after I’ve had eaten something. This almost feels like a bulge, a little hard to explain tbh.
I first when to my GP and he couldn’t properly diagnose me. Instead, he sent me to get an ultrasound to see if I have an enlarged spleen. The results came back clear, no enlarged spleen. Still symptoms persisted, so I had my blood work done to check if I had Leukaemia. Blood work was clear and seemed to be healthy, only lacking lower than normal iron levels.
After I lost hope with my GP, I tried my luck with a natural path. He diagnosed me with a yeast infection in my small intestine. He basically had me on a Probiotic and a few other supplements for over a year, and I was doing the anti candida diet during that time as well.
During the course of this time suffering from this, I have tried the fruit based diet, carnivore, animal based and now I’m basically just sticking either eating whole foods, that would include fruits, vegetables, meats, etc.
A few months back, I visited another doctor and he said I most likely have acid reflux and the coating on my tongue is a result of that. Now, fast forward until today and I’m going to be getting a test done to see if there is anything going on inside my gut. After the results come back I will get referred to a GI doctor.
I really would appreciate some advice here, I just want this get better and I just want to understand what is going on, since there has been a number of different doctors all telling me different things. I would really appreciate everyone’s feedback. Thank you!

Hey fellow non burpers.
Exactly a month ago it was finally my turn for the botox treatment, it was not easy to get an appointment so im very glad i even got the chance.
The first week after getting botox i had a lot of microburps and very little negative side effects. I had some slow swallowing and food came back up sometimes but it was very manageable. Unfortunately i had a very stressful family situation around week 2, which resulted in my throat just closing up completely. I only microburp when i yawn now and its only succesvol 20% of the time. No big burps at all so far. Sometimes it even feels like air enters my throat when i yawn instead of it getting out.
I know that i can always just get botox again, but due to circumstances and the waitlist i wont be able to get it done (if a second round is necessary) for a whole year. And now that i know what its like to have even the tiniest bit of relief from the microburps its like my symptoms feel a 100 times worse. I am so full of air that usually within 2 hours of being awake, im already uncomfortable and in pain. I dont even drink soda or anything, i think the slow swallow just allows a lot of extra air to enter my stomach.
Am i being too impatient? Or is it very realistic to assume that its just not going to happen for me this round? Should i start doing shaker excersizes?
Thanks in advance.

 it’s sick and twisted, yes 

 god knows us all by name 

 how about you? 

 we will shift to sheen 

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