Sore throat one side no fever achy body

Hi there! Another update, hopefully it helps those in early stages of recovery.
I’ve been feeling really good last few days, my swelling finally seems to be going down. I’ve been in compression tank top and spanx since 4 weeks and last 5 nights I sleep without compression. Today I ditched spanx during the daytime also. It feels so crazy that only 2 weeks ago I was still in my faja and today I’m out and about in my lululemon align leggings (almost no compression).
I’ve been doing light exercises starting 4 weeks but at 5 weeks I got sick so had to slow down and just do regular house chores/kids.
Scary thing happened at 5 weeks mark. I was walking at normal speed, straight, not carrying anything and I took a deep breath and felt a pop next to my belly button! One of my stitches popped. It was slightly painful for a few moments and then just sore. There was no bulging after it. I contacted my PS right away and he said to watch it overnight. Nothing happened overnight and soreness went away within a few days. It was never a horrible pain. He said it could be one of the dissolvable stitches (I had drainless TT) and shouldn’t affect my results. After that experience I was really scared to take big breathes…
I still sleep on my back. I tried being on my side and stomach and while it’s getting better for sure I still don’t feel safe sleeping like that. I’ll try again in a week.
I still swell obviously, but not as bad. I watch my sodium intake and eat very healthy. I move a lot and kids keep me busy. I still have bruises on my thighs from my lipo. They are going away but right after the procedure my thighs were black so it takes a while to resolve. I still have some pleated skin and dimples (drainless TT) but it’s resolving.
I bought a vibrating massager on Amazon, it’s called cellulite massager actually. It’s being very helpful for my swelling. It’s very gentle and a good replacement for manual lymphatic massage I was getting done by a professional.

Soft Kisses and Warm Embraces: Ayanokoji and Horikita's Love Journey"
Today, everyone had no classes. Ayanokoji woke up at 7 a.m., took his phone from the bed, and checked the time. He got out of bed and went to his kitchen, wanting to make a coffee, but there was no coffee powder. So, he changed his clothes and went to the market. There, he saw Horikita sitting on a bench, reading a book. Ayanokoji walked towards her and said, "Good morning, Horikita." She replied, "Good morning, Ayanokoji-kun." Horikita asked, "What brings you here today?" Ayanokoji replied, "I went to the market and bought coffee powder." Horikita said, "Oh, I see. Then I'll make coffee for you." Ayanokoji said, "Really? Are you..." Horikita replied, "Yup, I will." They walked together, and Horikita stopped, looking at the sky, taking a deep breath, and saying, "It's a quiet atmosphere, right, Ayanokoji-kun?" Ayanokoji replied, "Yeah," with a hint of coldness in his tone. Horikita noticed but didn't say anything. They reached Suzune's room, and Ayanokoji sat down, talking about their next special exam, while Horikita made tea. They sat together, and after drinking the coffee, they became silent. Ayanokoji broke the silence, "Can I say something? This is important." Horikita replied, "What do you want to say?" Ayanokoji shared his past and the White Room experiences, his voice still cold, but Horikita saw a glimmer of emotion in his eyes. After hearing this, Suzune was shocked and didn't say anything, taking the tea cups from the table and washing them. Ayanokoji asked, "Why are you silent? Say something, Horikita." Horikita breathed out and said, "Why didn't you tell me before?" Ayanokoji replied, "Because I didn't trust anyone." Horikita asked, "Do you trust me or not?" Ayanokoji said, "Now, I trust you more than anyone. And you've changed me, Horikita. Thank you." His voice still cold, but his eyes showed a hint of warmth. Later, when Ayanokoji fell ill, Horikita took care of him, and he thought, "When I'm with her, my body always relaxes." But he didn't show it, maintaining his cold exterior. After recovering, he thanked her and said, "I'll repay you for taking care of me." Horikita smiled and said, "You don't need to repay me, Ayanokoji-kun."As they sat together, Ayanokoji thought, "She's beautiful, more than anyone. A radiant blend of intellect, independence, and loyalty, infused with a calm and strategic grace, and a hint of sarcastic sparkle. Manabu was right; if I didn't know more about her, I wouldn't see her like this." But he didn't express his thoughts, keeping them hidden behind his cold mask.When Horikita asked if she could ask something, Ayanokoji replied, "What is it?" with a hint of curiosity. Horikita said, "When I'm with you, my body feels soft and gentle. I don't know why. Is this what everyone calls love or something?" Ayanokoji's expression remained cold, but his eyes showed a glimmer of surprise. He replied, "I never thought you'd say this. You have changed a lot, Horikita." His tone still cold, but his words showed a hint of warmth.As they sat together, Ayanokoji asked, "May I hold your hands?" Horikita replied suddenly, "What did you say? You want to hold my hands? Are you mad or something?" Ayanokoji replied in a slightly loud voice, "Horikita, give me your hands." His cold exterior cracking for a moment, revealing a hint of desperation. Horikita showed her palms, and Ayanokoji held them, feeling a surge of warmth Ayanokoji's grip on her hands was firm, but gentle. He didn't say a word, but his eyes spoke volumes. Horikita felt a shiver run down her spine as she looked into his eyes, seeing a depth of emotion she had never seen before. After a few moments of silence, Ayanokoji finally spoke, his voice low and husky. "Horikita, I...I don't know what's happening to me. But I feel like I can trust you with my life." Horikita's heart skipped a beat as she heard his words. She had never seen Ayanokoji like this before, so vulnerable and open. "Ayanokoji-kun," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I trust you too. More than anyone." Ayanokoji's eyes flashed with emotion, and he pulled her hands closer, his fingers intertwining with hers. They sat there for a few more moments, hands touching, eyes locked. The tension between them was palpable, and Horikita could feel her heart racing with excitement. She knew that this was the start of something special, something that could change their relationship forever. Finally, Ayanokoji spoke up, his voice a little stronger now. "Horikita, can I...can I see you again tomorrow? Alone?" Horikita's heart skipped a beat as she heard his words. She knew that this was a turning point in their relationship, and she was eager to see where it would lead. "Y-yes, Ayanokoji-kun," she stuttered, trying to hide her excitement. "I'd like that." Ayanokoji's face broke into a small smile, and he nodded, his eyes still locked on hers. "Good," he said softly. "I'll come to your room tomorrow, at 7 am." Horikita nodded, her heart racing with anticipation. She knew that tomorrow would be a new beginning, a new chapter in their relationship. As they parted ways, Horikita couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and nervousness. She knew that she was falling for Ayanokoji, hard. And she could see that he felt the same way. But what would tomorrow bring? Only time would tell. The next day, Ayanokoji arrived at Horikita's room promptly at 7 am. He was dressed in his usual attire, but there was a subtle change in his demeanor. He looked more relaxed, more at ease, and his eyes seemed to hold a newfound warmth. Horikita opened the door, and her heart skipped a beat as she saw Ayanokoji standing there, looking at her with an intensity that made her feel weak in the knees. "Good morning, Horikita," he said softly, his voice low and husky. "Good morning, Ayanokoji-kun," she replied, trying to sound calm despite the butterflies in her stomach. Ayanokoji walked in, and they sat down on the bed, facing each other. The tension between them was palpable, and Horikita could feel her heart racing with excitement. "So, Horikita," Ayanokoji said, his eyes locked on hers. "I wanted to talk to you about something." "What is it, Ayanokoji-kun?" Horikita asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Ayanokoji took a deep breath before speaking. "I know I've been cold and distant in the past, but...I can't help how I feel. And I feel something for you, Horikita. Something strong." Horikita's heart skipped a beat as she heard his words. She had been hoping for this moment, but she hadn't expected it to come so soon. "Ayanokoji-kun," she said softly, her voice trembling with emotion. "I feel the same way. I've been trying to deny it, but...I can't help how I feel either." Ayanokoji's face broke into a small smile, and he reached out, taking her hands in his. "Horikita," he said softly, his eyes locked on hers. "I think we have a chance at something special here. Something real."Horikita nodded, her heart racing with excitement. She knew that this was the start of something new, something beautiful. And she was eager to see where it would lead. Ayanokoji's grip on her hands was firm, but gentle. He looked into her eyes, and Horikita saw a depth of emotion she had never seen before. It was as if he was pouring his heart out to her, and she felt her own heart responding in kind. "Horikita," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I want to be with you. I want to hold you, to kiss you, to love you. I want to be the one you turn to when you need someone. I want to be your everything." Horikita's heart was racing now, and she felt her face growing hot. She had never heard Ayanokoji speak like this before, and it was both thrilling and terrifying. She knew that she felt the same way, but she was scared of getting hurt. "Ayanokoji-kun," she said softly, her voice trembling with emotion. "I...I feel the same way. But what if we get hurt? What if we can't make it work?" Ayanokoji's face was filled with determination, and he pulled her hands closer, his fingers intertwining with hers. "We'll face it together, Horikita," he said softly. "We'll make it work, no matter what. Because I can't imagine a future without you by my side." Horikita felt her heart melt at his words, and she knew that she was lost. She was in love with Ayanokoji, and she knew that she would do anything to make him happy."Ayanokoji-kun," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I love you." Ayanokoji's face lit up with a smile, and he pulled her into his arms, holding her close. "I love you too, Horikita," he whispered, his lips brushing against her ear. "More than anything."And with that, they sealed their fate their hearts bound together in a love that would last a lifetime as they held each other, Horikita felt a sense of peace wash over her. She knew that she had found her soulmate in Ayanokoji, and that their love would conquer all. Ayanokoji pulled back slightly, his eyes locked on hers. "Horikita," he said softly, his voice filled with emotion. "I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy. Will you...will you be my girlfriend?" Horikita's heart skipped a beat as she heard his words. She had been hoping for this moment, and she knew that she couldn't say no. "Y-yes, Ayanokoji-kun," she stuttered, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'd love to be your girlfriend." Ayanokoji's face lit up with a smile, and he pulled her into his arms, holding her close. "I promise to always be there for you, Horikita," he whispered, his lips brushing against her ear. "To always support you, to always love you." Horikita felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes as she heard his words. She knew that she had found her forever love in Ayanokoji, and that their bond would only grow stronger with time. As they held each other, Horikita knew that their love story was just beginning. And she couldn't wait to see what the future held for them. The scene faded to black, with the sound of their gentle whispers and the warmth of their embrace lingering in the air.

 THE END 

59 Year Old, Male, 275 lbs, 5'11"

1. 2018 Summer - Experienced an injury to my scalp that did not heal quickly.
2. 2018 Fall - Itching dandruff spot on head appear in same area, similar to what I was experiencing on my chins since 2008.
3. 2019 Fall - The problem covered all of my scalp. A California Dermatologist (SD) me with Seborrheic Dermatitis and gave me steroid cremes, these made my skin thin. Now looked like serious burn. Leg and Head. SD starting to affect me psychologically and professionally.
4. COVID - Visited 2nd dermatologist in Maryland and they gave me liquid Betmethazone Dipropionate. Lotion. Was a liquid in a super small bottle. Got some relief but would run out in less than two weeks. Had to apply multiple times per day and still was terrible shedding. Using this was not sustainable.
5. 2023 Fall - September: Saw third dermatologist asking for anti-fungal medication. I had heard that Malassezia yeast was a trigger. The Dr. refused and I did not want to use immune suppressant he recommended and prescribed. I figured I need my immune system and looked for the trigger. Also suffer from joint pain, stiffness, lethargy, etc. etc. Suspect I may have general arthritis and getting old very quick.
6. December 2023 - Very depressed and frustrated with SD. I was told if I shaved my head this might resolve the problem. Cutting my hair very close to scalp, #0 ManScaping, did not resolve the problem... If I shaved I would have cut into my skin. However, I was better able to debris the dry skin and apply medicine. I began trimming hair to #0 every other day.
7. January 2024 - Thinking the problem was still a fungal trigger I purchased two products from Amazon: Pet Honesty Chlorhexidine Cat & Dog Anti-Itch Shampoo. It contains, 2% Chlorhexidine and 1% Ketoconazole. After washing my skin, I also used Alpha Paw - Antibacterial & Antifungal Wipes. The higher concentrations of medicine is important. Health insurance did not pay. I used these over the counter items in isolation, no oils or lotion. I would cover my head with a beanie and leave my leg open to the air. I did this after shower before bed and upon rising each morning. For the first time in 4 years I began to see some relief. I was able to reduce the amount of irritation and large areas of swelling and scaling reduced. This occurred almost immediately. Yes, using this product burns somewhat but is bearable as compared to chronic itching.
8. March 2024 - Area on my leg is getting back to normal on the edges and my scalp is now only dandruff, not huge flakes. No more open sores on head, and sores on legs reducing.
9. May 2024 - I decided to take on the issue of inflammation in my entire body head on. I started fasting. I drank only 2 liters of Emergen-C per day, iced coffee with cream for a period one week. I went on a daily hour long walk and normal routine. By day 5 of my fast the change to the SD was pretty incredible. The skin swelling on my head is greatly reduced and the dandruff is minimal as compared to weeks prior. Joint pain is gone, feel much better. I broke my fast on Day 7 with a salad and hard boiled eggs.
10. Going Forward: I will be continuing to cut hair, apply anti-fungal and fast several day on and off until I reach desired weight and skin clear completely. Currently 240 lbs, goal of 180 lbs. I am currently consulting a fasting expert and adjusting accordingly. Goal is to stay in ketosis as much as possible. Repair biome with probiotics and continue to treat skin to ward off overgrowth yeast or fungus. I am moving back west and will be doing Hot Yoga in AZ. I plan to diet, sweat, and get this cleared up for good. I will post more in a few weeks.

You joined a new team with fresh eyes. Excited for a fresh start and the opportunity to work in another field. It seems like everyone is a team player, helping each other. The workload and responsibility is plenty, but still you managed.
Over time you start to see the less pretty side of the job. New management, long term/experienced employees have left, peers look burnt out, bored, stressed and depressed. Resulting in more sick days, including yourself. Less help from the team.
Team members complaining that they have to work. Complaining about other's apparent lack of work ethic, due to work factors outside of one's control. And wasting valuable time looking for equipment that mysteriously goes missing.
Team members doing the bare minimum, and not helping you. You enjoyed breaking a sweat at work, and going out of your way to fill in any spare minute you had to help others. But now you start doing the bare minimum plus a little more, to ensure your part of the job is done well.
Does one keep doing this to prevent everyone expecting you to do their job? To prevent oneself from being burnt out? Despite others noticing, and possibly judging you?
I'm tired. I look tired. I could sleep all day on my days off. I have no energy to put effort into my fitness and putting healthy food into my body. I'm not university educated. Barely college educated. I don't know what else I can do with my life career-wise, or what I'm capable of doing. I never complained about my position before, besides the past few months. I'm grateful to have a job. But I'm tired. Suppose I'll just put my head down and accept it for what it is. And try to focus more on my health.

Hi everyone,
This is a follow up on my post made yesterday morning which got so many responses. A lot of people were asking me for the update and here I am after making a decision. Before that, I honestly am very grateful that you all shared your valuable life perspective with me.
I decided to not confess my feelings for her and from the pointers you people all mentioned here is what I have concluded:

• I fell in love with her. It is not the fault of the girl. And definitely the guy she is dating is definitely not the one who should suffer because of any of my decisions because that poor guy does not even knows me. I can make delusions that they are in LDR, he might not love her as much as me but yes they might all be just delusions and that guy can be in deep love with her and I don't want to do the sin of being an asshole doing this shit.
• The major reason I planned to not confess was also because I realized that through our conversations I definitely gave her a lot of hints. I was being very expressive (and probably now i think at some points creepy too), complementing her smile, her words, her accent and her nature and if she had been interested she should have reciprocated but she did not. I believe ki no matter how much i love her mujhe uske galle nahi padna hai
• I saw this post today in the sub where one of the girls doubts about her marriage with his BF because of his best friend and I felt bad for his BF and imagined myself at place of his best friend and definitely understood the prospective that I might have been wrong.

What next for me:

• Well, I definitely love the girl a lot and probably will keep loving her the whole life. She has a pretty face, kind nature, everything beautiful but I died on her because she had a beautiful burn on her arm which she got while cooking food. I was just obsessed with that mark that although i will joke about it , I just actually love it.
• I had been a porn addict since like 10 years now . Since i have met this girl i have not seen porn (35 days now and its biggest streak since these last 10 years). She definitely healed a part of me and this porn rehab was not forced or intentional. It just happened as all day i was thinking of her and well thats an habit i had been able to quit because of her
• I am not sure, how and when I will move on because as I said yesterday due to nature of my job, my family (we are typical conservative families, so never had to been a club or used stuff like tinder) but I definitely will limit my conversation with her. I am gonna absolutely kill the conversations from my side though I am not gonna block her or anything.
• One part of me, still has an "umeed" that one day she will come back but I have packed it in a bag and kept that umeed in one part of my brain and will let it be there.
• Lastly, I definitely ended up putting blame of all of this on god. My life had been a fucking roller coaster in last 3-4 years because of some financial reasons. Only recently my side hustle started paying off results and I comfortably left my job and in the last 10-15 days of my job this scene happened. I am definitely gonna keep grudges with god for this... :( I have been lying like a dead body since last two days because when I am depressed i sleep a lot haha ... but i hope in 2-3 weeks I will be doing better.

Request:

1. Some people commented bad about the girl in my last post. Well, she never gave me any direct signals, never flirted back. If she had been dishonest she probably have never told me about his ongoing relationship and had let me continue flirting with her but she made clear to me she is committed.

So she is definitely a queen and will request anyone to avoid commenting bad about her....

original setting by Michael McNeill
Myrla sat at one of the tables in the food court area of Nantrella Station. The Greylin’s crew had discovered several ships docked with family members on board and this had led to a rather impressively large impromptu family reunion with several dozen kwonese spacers gathered up in one space.
She was sitting slouched over the table, the only human in a sea of furry ratfolk, nursing her drink. It was a chocaf that one of the family from another ship had spiked with something s/he said was an intoxicant that she would enjoy. Myrla wasn’t sure if it was intoxicating, but it did add a pleasant richness to the drink and it warmed her in a way chocaf didn’t normally do.
She was reaching the end of her drink and was starting to wonder if she should try to find the kwonese who had spiked her drink to ask for a second round when she realized some of her crewmates nearby were talking about her. She hadn’t been listening, really, her mind just floating along in the comfortable feel of the “group-snuggle” as they called it, so she wasn’t sure what was going on.
After a few seconds of focusing on the conversation, she realized they were bragging about her. That was when one of them turned to her, dragging her into the conversation.
“Yah, see! This Myrla, she top stevedore, better than ya porter drone!” Nellin, one of the crew-family she had little interaction with other than when it was time to hustle cargo, had grabbed her by the sleeve and was tugging her into a small cluster of kwonese sitting around one of the tables. She only recognized one other face as being part of the Greylin crew. Nellin served as the ship’s load-master and chief stevedore, so she assumed the others in the group likely held similar positions on their own ships.
Myrla hoisted her cup in greeting, a lopsided smile on her face. Then she realized she did know another of the faces in the group – the cousin who had spiked her chocaf. Grinning, she pulled her arm free of Nellin’s grip and pointed to him then to her almost empty cup. “I’m going to need some more of that, cousin.”
This set off titters of laughter around the crew as the kwonese in question hauled out a silver flask from his vest pocket. “Powerful stuff, yah!” He made smacking sounds as he fixed her another chocaf from the table’s dispenser. “Makin’ it on the Yeongja, we do. Best you find.”
She drained her first cup and picked up the second. If it was an intoxicant, it was either incredibly weak or it was so smooth that it would hit her like a sledgehammer later. Either way, it was a delightful pairing with the bitterness of the chocaf. She took a sip of the fresh drink, smiling as the warmth seeped into her. The group shuffled around to make a spot for her to sit.
One of the others, a grizzled older kwonese, looked at her one eyebrow raised. “Nellin say you top stevedore. Say you outwork drone. Been load-master on Yeongja ten year and four more now on /San Matteo/. Not seeing that happen yet.”
She looked over Nellin and raised her cup in his direction. “[Samchun ]()[[MM1]](#_msocom_1) has never voiced displeasure with my work. If he wishes to say I work harder than a cargo drone, that is his choice.”
Her comment brought hoots of laughter from around the table. Out-bragging in a family was something of a sport with the kwonese and diplomatically saying they were boasting without calling them a liar was an integral part of the game, even better if you were doing so in support of them.
“Well-saying, [olinee]()[[MM2]](#_msocom_2) .” The grizzled cargo-chief crinkled his snout and raised his glass at her. “But now chincheog making me curious. Never seeing such a thing not being the same as impossible thing.” He paused to scratch his whiskers. “Not working much with your kind, true, so never seeing how much you can do.” Several of the group lightly slapped the tabletop and looked in her direction.
She glanced down at Nellin, seeing his whiskers twitching. His body language was just like it would be if they were playing cards and he were holding a winning hand, waiting on the pool to grow. Long seconds passed before the one she’d mentally dubbed “Mister Flask” leaned in.
“Let’s make it interesting.”
And there it was. Cred-chips started hitting the table and in moments, crew from all the ships were aware of the betting taking place. She sat, sipping her doctored chocaf, as the kwonese around her seemed to turn into a boiling pool of sleek fur and whiskers. Across the table, “Mister Flask” raised his cup to her … and winked.
She grinned back at him, returning the gesture. Now what was that all about?
One of the twins – probably Mikkeulon, from the scent – saw the exchange and leaned close to her. “Oh-ho! You catching Peulla’s eye, then! Good choice, but he wild.”
Myrla sputtered into her cup, but before she could say anything, the twin was gone. Then Nellin leaned in close. “You got this, girlee. Seen you move more easy. Just be going slow and easy and Greylin family got drinks for all station-time, ya.”
Myrla smiled to herself, shaking her head. The cargo-master may have said the Greylin’s crew would have all their drinks covered during their port-time, but given the kwonese need for these family get-togethers, “hajog-poog” they called them, every kwonese on the station would be regular visitors to the Greylin. The betting was just the method they used to pick which ship the party was held on.

It wasn’t long before the entire party had relocated to the docks where San Matteo was set to disgorge its cargo. The grizzled cargo-master, who Myrla now knew to be named Tostiklin, had one of the enormous cargo bays set up for the impromptu competition. She’d sent Orak off to the /Greylin/ to retrieve her backpack, leading to a humorous scene as the young kwonese came running into the docking area dragging the pack that was easily as large as he was. She stripped away the actual pack and her possessions that it held, leaving just the pack-frame. She tasked Orak with perching on the pack itself, to make sure it didn’t get lost in the excitement.
She walked over to the small cluster of cargo-masters and hefted her packframe. “I assume I’m allowed to use a cargo rack, since the drone has one?” She watched as several of them suppressed snickers and Tostiklin wrinkled his snout in amusement.
He waved absently. “Yahyey, of course! Wanting a fair run, we.” He motioned the cargo drone over, which stood almost twice as tall as its crewmates. The crowd settled down to a low murmur as the cargo master addressed the two. “This being the rules. Moving cargo for one minute, as much as you can, ya. No helping from others. No interfering with other stevedore. Move you stack from where it is to indicated position.” He pointed to a pair of chalked squares some thirty feet away from the initial stacks. “Is good?”
The drone’s head rotated from the kwonese to Myrla to the two stacks of cargo containers and back. “I to compete against this gentlebeing? Moving cargo like normal work?”
“Yes, Ledo.”
The drone dipped its head. “Understood but I do not understand why.”
Myrla leaned close to the drone. “They gambling on us. Who can shift more.”
The drone tipped its expressionless face first to one side then to the other while looking at her, a low whir of servos barely audible. Then it looked toward the group of kwonese for a moment. “Oh. Oh. Then … perhaps I should apologize now?”
Myrla grinned. “Apologize for what?”
“I am made to shift significant amounts of cargo. You do not appear to be. I shall apologize now for embarrassing you in front of your shipmates.”
Myrla laughed and patted the drone on its arm. “It’s all in fun, Ledo. I won’t be embarrassed.”
She could detect a faint note of smugness in the mechanical’s speech. “Very well. Then let us proceed.”
“Geebees, are clear on rules?” Myrla and Ledo both indicated their assent. “Then please stand by cargo.”
When they had taken their places, Tostiklin pulled a whistle from his pocket and blew on it. Myrla and Ledo began quickly assembling their loads. Remembering Nellin’s admonition, she carefully restricted her load, adding two containers more to hers than the drone loaded onto itself. It was enough weight to slow her down considerably, but she could still keep up with Ledo without straining.
Together, they dropped their cargo loads inside their assigned squares and Myrla fought the urge to race ahead of the drone, keeping pace with it instead. Twice more the cycle repeated itself, with Myrla carrying just enough extra to stay ahead in the count.
When the whistle blew a second time, the gathered cargo-masters counted the crates in each stack. Tostiklin’s face was a study in surprise as he counted Myrla’s stack again.
He looked at Nellin. “Your stevedore has clearly won. By a mere six crates, but she has won.” The kwonese erupted into cheers and groans, depending on the amount of credits they had won or lost. Tostiklin held up a hand and the crowd quieted down. “But you say she outwork drone. Win by six is much as keep up with drone.”
The crowd inhaled as a whole. /San Matteo/’s cargo chief was treading the fine line of being rude, almost accusing Nellin of lying. The older kwonese narrowed his eyes, looking for at Nellin, then Myrla, then at the crowd. “I like very much to be seeing her truly outwork drone. What is prize money?” One of the younger cargo-masters gave him the figure. “I say offering own creds to match that, double or nothing.”
The crowd went wild, the line of propriety saved. Myrla doubted Nellin had that sort of funds available, based on his change in body language. From behind her, she heard a female kwonese start chanting, “Match! Match!” She and Nellin turned to look, seeing Captain Wanniv shaking her fist in the air. In seconds, all the /Greylin/’s crew was chanting with her.
“Match! Match! Match!”
Nellin looked at her, his nervousness evident, even though things were going exactly like he’d told her they would. She winked at him and gave him a quick nod.
His bearing changed imperceptibly as he turned back to Tostiklin. “Yahyey, chincheog. You be seeing truth.”
Ban Baekui had sidled up beside her, patting her arm. “Time be taking off the governor, ya.”
She nodded absently, her gaze wandering around the room, watching as dozens of groupings indicated the level of betting taking place. “Got your bets made, chief?”
“Already making creds plenty. This to be sheer kwaja!”
She looked down at him, grinning. “The captain plays cards with Nellin, doesn’t she?”
Ban gave her a curious tilt of his head. “Frequently. Why you ask?”
Myrla nodded to herself, looking around again. “She backed him up at the perfect time. This gonna bring some notoriety to the Greylin. And that converts to …” She looked back at the ship’s lead mechanic, grinning broadly.
“Jobs. Bigger and better.” Ban nodded, grinning back. “Not playing cards with you, girlee. Best getting ready, then.”
Ban faded back into the crowd, leaving her with Nellin. “You good with this? Tossi want longer timeframe for this.”
Myrla dropped to one knee, making it so she had to look up slightly at the cargo master. “I need some advice, chief.” Nellin blinked in surprise at the abrupt change in the situation. When he signaled his assent, she continued. “There’s more going on than what I’m seeing. You just used a blood-kin name for him. The captain backed you up publicly under his challenge, so she’s now tied the two of you together, your win is now her win, and your loss her loss. Tostiklin almost called you a liar in front of everyone, but pulled it out by upping the bet.” She scanned the crowd, seeing several non-kwonese beginning to intermingle. “And that is interesting. More geebees are joining the party. And those aren’t spacers.” Her eyes narrowed. “Those are brokers – I recognize two of them.”
Nellin wrung his hands, a faint tang of nervousness coloring his odor. “Is … is complicated.”
“Not from my end, chief. Tostiklin wants to see how hard I can work, because he wants to learn more about my people and is willing to pay for the privilege. And he wants to see me lose to gloat…” She looked at Nellin as he started squirming again. “He doesn’t want me to lose.” She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Who is he related to by blood on the Greylin?”
“He brother to captain’s father…” Myrla’s eyes lit up in sudden understanding. “…and is brother to my mother’s mother.”
Myrla’s jaw dropped slightly as several puzzle pieces clicked into place. “He … he doesn’t want us to fail at all. He’s loaning the captain operating money as well as boosting the ship’s reputation.”
Nellin put his hands out to shush her. “Not be saying this!”
The good side of her mouth pulled up in a smile. “Don’t worry, not a word. Plus, by challenging you like this, you gain even more credibility with the family after I smoke that presumptuous cargo drone at his own game. You gain a reputation for understating how good something is.”
“See … is complicated.”
“Chief, go make your personal bets. This run is about to get interesting.”
The next ten minutes was a flurry of action as bets were made and new spectators arrived from stationside. At one point, Peulla drifted by, pressing another cup of that deliciously spiked chocaf into her hand with a wink. Soon, the cargo masters were huddled up again.
Tostiklin had found a voice amplifier somewhere, letting his voice be heard over the noises of the much-larger crowd. “We be setting round two. Nellin, loadmaster of the Greylin Bostlin, say he crewmate outwork cargo drone. We see earlier this geebee do that.” He indicated Myrla and she waved at the crowd, to delighted cheers from more than just her shipmates. “I say she barely beat cargo drone and I ask for a rematch. I offer double to see she truly outwork drone!” The crowd roared excitedly. “I ask to see geebee outwork drone and just minutes not enough. I ask for one whole hour!”
The crowd erupted into a frenzy and Myrla blinked in confusion. Nobody mentioned hauling cargo for an hour, she thought.
Captain Wanniv had slipped up beside her. “Just another day on the docks, ya?”
Turning to the captain with a smile, she said, “Using my own words against me as inspiration? I’m … well, I don’t guess I’m shocked. And yes, I’m good for it.”
“Is good. All this good.”
Myrla gave the captain a wink. “I love how they brought in some of the local cargo brokers and the Dockworker’s Guild to watch. San Matteo is a respected crew. To see them give the Greylin respect will carry weight later.”
The captain’s eyes crinkled. “I have no idea what you mean.”
Finally, the crowd calmed down again. Siezing the moment, Myrla stepped forward to address the Matteo’s cargo-master. “Samchun, it seems to me that all of our competition is being done handling cargo from the San Matteo. If we are unloading cargo, then am I working for you? And, if I am working, then as a member of the Stevedore and Dockworker’s Guild, I have to be paid or I lose my license. And I cannot bet on myself.”
The crowd fell to a dead silence as Tostiklin’s eyebrows rose slowly, first one then the other.
“FAIR!” Someone in the crowd shouted.
Tostiklin glanced in the direction of the speaker and turned back to Myrla, nodding slowly. “Wisdom speaks.” A grin slowly spread across his face. “I will pay you one hour with a bonus in proportional to how well you outwork the drone.”
Myrla nodded. “I accept these terms and your grace in offering them.” This brought a round of applause from the crowd.
“Again! This being the rules! Moving cargo for one hour, as much as you can, ya. No helping from others. No interfering with other stevedore. Move you stack from where it is to indicated platform.” He pointed to a pair of conveyor platforms some thirty feet away from the initial stacks. “Is good?”
Both workers gave their assent.
“Geebees, to your starting places!” Again, a blast from the whistle signaled the start of the competition. Both fell to their task and worked steadily, but Myrla thought it looked as though the drone knew it had already been beaten. For every stack of crates it moved, she moved twice as many. When it tried to match her volume, its speed dropped off significantly to the sound of overloaded drive motors.
They were well and thoroughly inside the cargo bay of the /San Matteo/ and the crowd was only able to keep up by watching on a series of holoscreens that had been set up for the purpose. True to Bae’s request, she “pulled the governors off,” falling into her work-trance, letting the crates guide her flow. The conveyor platforms advanced with them, never more than thirty feet away, making the job a bit less arduous. The cargo-master group was inside with them, as well, and Myrla shut them out by treating them like she did any other client who hung out to watch her work.
She was so deep into her work that the whistle caught her by surprise and Nellin had to physically intervene to get her attention.
“Is good, girlee. We done it. YOU done it.”
Myrla walked out of the cargo hold, blinking and shaking her head, trying to get refocused on where she was. Then she realized the entire hajog was chanting her name. Bae and Wanniv were waiting on her at the bay-door. Bae handed her a bottle of water and Wanniv grabbed Myrla’s free hand in both of hers. “You best lucky charm!” As the crowd caught sight of her, the chant broke into a wordless cheer that threatened to overwhelm her.
Finally, the cargo-masters made their counts and conferred together with a lot of nodding and one shaking their head incredulously. Tostiklin motioned her and the cargo drone forward to join them.
“Thinking it clear who wins.” He broke off with a grin as the crowd erupted into cheers again. He tried to continue twice before the cheering died down enough to let him be heard. “Seeing you never slowed down, girlee. Thinking maybe you having another gear or two.”
Smiling, Myrla shrugged as the crowd went wild again.
“And!” He held up a pouch for everyone to see. “And, here is your payment. One hour’s wage for a class five stevedore. And since you performed double what the drone performed, your wages are doubled.”
Again, the crowd roared and she fought to keep the surprise off her face. She was a class one stevedore and class five rates were significantly higher than she was used to getting. As she accepted the pouch from him, she leaned in to be heard above the crowd. “You are a wise and honorable gentlebeing, Samchun. May your words echo among many gajog.”
That got her an extra cheer from the cargo-chiefs and a pat on the cheek from a grinning Tostiklin. “You taking good-good care of the Greylin crew, then. So, let’s be drinking to this!”

Trigger warning - religious differences
I always bragged about how awesome my extended family was. NO family is perfect, but I heard horror stories and always counted my blessings that I had strong ties with my Aunt and uncles since I was raised an only child. That was until a few months ago when my last living Aunt, whom I considered a second mom, shattered me.
Ok, some backstory here. My aunt is a Jehovah’s Witness. Now before you get all judgy, I have always loved her, my uncle and her son with all of my heart. I still do. I respect that they have found faith and live by this code on the daily. I have met many people from their congregation and loved them all (ok, a couple of exceptions). I also appreciate the community they have and love they all show each other. If it weren’t for the religion itself, I would have converted.
I, however, am pagan and have always been since I was about 5 (even the first book I signed out from the school’s library was about witchcraft). Not raised that way, but always found spiritual comfort in nature and the natural world. I have a very strong connection and dedication to my Powers That Be and work every day to help the world be a better place. My Aunt did not know my religion until about 7 years ago. That being said, she and I would have very philosophical conversations when we hung out together. Even at the age of 8, I would listen to her preach to me and ask questions to which she never had answers. I remember her telling me how only 144,000 people would be allowed in heaven and didn’t I think that would be wonderful knowing that our whole family could be together again after we died. We’d all be in heaven if we were all Jehova;s witnesses. I had gone with her many times to do field service (door to door) and asked her why they do that if there’s only a certain number of people allowed. Didn’t that lessen her chances of getting in because I’m sure there were many people more deserving than myself. How did she know for sure she’d be one of the ones to get in and was that fair to keep bringing people into the religion when all the spaces were probably already filled up?
At 8 years old, I had many questions and was just trying to figure these things out. Since she was an adult, I figured she had the answers. My questions were not with malice, just for a want of better understanding. When she didn’t have the answers, I'd ask my mother and grandmother. While they were extremely amused, they said they never understood either. They never said anything bad about her or her attempts to get them to convert, just allowed me to explore religion and spirituality as I wished so I could make my own decision of what was right for me.
Once I was an adult, I avoided talking to her about religion, but found that if I didn’t ask questions and just let her talk, it made her happy. I know she’s a good person at heart and that’s all that matters. After my Mom passed, my aunt and I talked almost every week. I loved talking to her and she became even more like a mom to me. She gave me encouragement and we supported each other through health and emotional crises. I’d make it a point to try and visit at least once a year for a few days so she could visit with my daughter and I. We’d always do lunch with her friends and I loved it. I fell in love with some of the people in her congregation and wished we could live closer to hang out more. I, however, never wavered on my spiritual beliefs, but I have never cared about the religion, race, or sexuality of anyone. If we got along, we were friends and that was that.
My aunt and I had come to an understanding that I would not convert and that we would love and respect each other regardless. Religious talk was off the table for the most part until both of my uncles (my aunt’s two brothers) passed and she had a very hard time dealing with it. She was the last surviving sibling and she was sinking into a depression. I’d talk to her at length and listen to her as she mourned the fact that she would never have contact with them (and my mom) in heaven because they never converted. When she asked me what I believed, I told her that I believed that the soul lived on after the body died and that I believed in reincarnation. I explained my beliefs were closer to hindu and buddhism than christianity (so she had context). We had very long talks and she expressed that she respected my views and actually found comfort in talking with me.
That was until my daughter and I opened our store about 3 years ago. It’s a metaphysical shop and we have crystals, teas, gifts, jewelry, candles and more (about 10% strict;y pagan). My aunt was happy for us until it dawned on her that we might sell pagan stuff. I told her what we sold and she asked me if I was a witch. I replied that I suppose that was one way to describe me, but, again, I considered myself spiritual and that I followed a path closer to buddhism, hinduism, native american. I sent a couple of pictures of the jewelry that we made and she said when we came down, we should bring the jewelry making.
We did, I brought down our best crystals to wrap and bracelet materials and my daughter and I made her a necklace with a very expensive stone (A $200 piece). She brought her friends over and they picked out crystals that they wanted, made bracelets and such. We had fun and I was happy to do it, though I wasn’t expecting people that I had never met before. Still, we had fun. My daughter and I also brought her a basket with local items from our hometown, (Raw honey, handmade stoneware mugs, cutting board, herbal tea and some other items made by us as well) She was thrilled. My aunt and uncle had taken a couple of bad falls a few months before and so my daughter and I made them hand carved cedar walking sticks as well because we knew they went for regular walks and thought it would help their balance. It felt amazing to lavish expensive and heartfelt gifts on them as I has struggled so long with money. I was finally in a place that I could do it. To say the gifts probably totalled in excess of 1K is on the low side, but I was still happy to do it.
Besides the fact that they tried converting my daughter when I wasn’t around, it was a lovely visit. The only problem I had was with a new person my aunt introduced us to. This woman, we’ll call her Dee, ignored me and only talked to my daughter. She was my age if not older, but conversed with my daughter, 17, like I wasn’t there. They traded contact info and Dee insisted that they keep in touch while my daughter was in college. Dee said she was going to keep an eye on her. I thought that was odd, but I did enjoy the feeling of having an extended family sort of since I actually had no family besides my Aunt.
Let’s jump forward to the following year and we were struggling financially. Not horrible, but unable to lavish the gifts that we did the year before. Instead, I created a beautiful aromatherapy candle, some delicious herbal teas and we found a couple of very rare antique tea cups that had amazing value to them (about $100 a piece). We made a basket for her and I decided we would cook for them. (gluten free, soy free, dairy free etc). Our visit went so well, it was great to see them. We just enjoyed hanging out with them and talking. They loved the meal we made for them and the dairy free organic chocolate I made. Everything was great until the day we were leaving. Dee showed up and again ignored me, talked to my daughter and chastised her for getting a pet snake as that was an animal associated with the devil. My daughter is one to push the envelope a bit and said how she wanted to get a tattoo as well, one of a snake. Both my aunt and Dee were shocked and said she should never get a tattoo.. Again related to the devil, I went to the bathroom as I was not involved in the conversation and knew my daughter could hold her own. Little do they know that my daughter is also trans. I told her not to say anything to them just yet. I came back to them talking about how college was going and I thought my aunt and Dee would faint when she said her college roommate was male. She quickly explained that it was fine because he was gay and how awesome he was (he is btw). She quickly realized what I meant when she saw their reaction to him being gay. It wasn’t that she was living with a boy, it was that he was gay and “why did he choose to be gay.” I tried redirecting the conversation a couple of times, but they ignored me.
They finally let it go, but just after Dee left, we were getting ready to depart as well. My aunt returned the basket I made for her (minus the expensive tea cups). She said she could not accept them as they were touched by the devil. Shocked, I asked what she meant. She said that because they came from my store, they carried Satan's influence and she could not have them in our home. Truthfully, I explained that I made those items for her and that the only things that came from the store were the teacups. She was confused why I had gotten upset. When I explained that I gave her a gift and if she didn’t want it, she could regift it or throw it away. That gift came from my heart with all the love I have for her and that I didn't need to know her opinions about the gifts because It insinuated I, myself, was evil and it was extremely hurtful. She basically continued on insisting that I was just not aware of how much Satan had a hold of me. All I could do was tell her how much I loved her and leave.
I didn’t take her calls and cried about this for over a month. I finally felt strong enough to talk to her and again she insisted that because those items touched my hands, they were influenced by satan and she wished I could understand how they just can’t have that influence in their home. Frustrated, I asked how she could shop at grocery stores or buy anything from department stores because she can’t guarantee that those items didn’t touch hands that were influenced by satan. Also , I asked her how they could have eaten the food I prepared for them and why did they even invite me into their home to begin with if that’s the way she felt about me. She suddenly needed to go.
We talked a few times since then but it always came back to religion. At one point I asked her again why she would even invite us to her home if she felt that way. Her response was to save my daughter. The pain and heartache she has inflicted is immense, but I cannot bring myself to argue the point because I’m afraid if I make my point to her, it will break her. She’s in her 80’s and I believe has the beginnings of dementia. Her religion brings her comfort and I don’t want to say anything that might make her doubt her religion at her advanced age.
I’ve decided it is probably best for both of our mental health to stop all contact with her( with the exception of sending cards telling them how much I love them) even though I’ve always seen her as a second mom. AITA for making this decision and not trying to work things out with her or allow her to believe that I still might convert?
*** Please understand this is not a bash on any religion. Everyone has the right to believe in whatever religion they wish. That includes me, so if you feel the need to bash them or me for our spiritual choices, you can move along ***
I have never felt like I needed to hide any part of me from my friends, family, and the public in general. Not until now. Buckle up, this is a bumpy ride.
I've always been kind hearted, almost to a flaw. I took care of my grandmother, my step-dad, my mom and helped with a family friend during long term and terminal illnesses. I had my daughter and, without her father's help, raised her on my own with very little to no support. I helped friends with their farm who left me homeless in the end because I want interested in an extramarital affair. I lost my home and all that I loved including my husband because he lied to me and never paid it mortgage while I was recovering from an illness. In short, I have had a tough life, but it has never made me turn my back on anyone who needed help or in difficult family when they were ignored by the others. That's just some background before I tell you this situation.
Three years ago, after a bout of covid, my daughter was suicidal. She had been in the top three of her HS class and yet at that point almost failed her junior year. Not knowing if she would have the emotional strength to face college and adulting in general, I set up a plan B for her. I started a store in her name and that way she'd have something at least to fall back on if she was unable to function in the m-f 9 to 5 world. We started slow by doing craft fairs, seeking crystals, candles, jewelry, and gifts. We were kicked out of one because the person running it assumed we were witches. She was not wrong exactly as we identified as pagan, but we lived our life closest to the Buddhist and Hindu traditions, not traditional wicca. These were people who knew us for years and were considered acquaintances if not friends.
Our business flourished and we ended up opening our brick and mortar that fall after remodeling our garage/ barn and turning it into a store front. Even though I run it for my daughter, it is hers and we work together to keep it going.
In the past few years I've lost my mom, and two uncles. I have no family besides my mother's sister and her husband which we were pretty close. My aunt knew that I was pagan and had tried recruiting me into her religion since I was 5. Even at that tender age her religion never made sense and I would ask her questions to which she never had answers. I accepted her and respected her and her religion even though I didn't agree. I loved the people she introduced me to that were in her church and I always got along with them. That is until we visited the year after we started our store. My aunt was thrilled about us bringing crystals down and making jewelry with her. We met a new friend of hers (middle aged woman) who ignored me completely and oozed affection on my daughter. She got my daughter's contact info and contacted her frequently. Trying to convert and ”save” her. My daughter wasn't having it as even though she was in a delicate state, she is very level headed and strong willed.
This year we visited and we brought herbal tea, candies, and rare vintage tea cups for my aunt. The day we were leaving, she handed back everything but the vintage tea cups and told me she couldn't accept them because they were touched by Satan (aka made by my hands). To say I was devastated is an understatement. This woman was always like a second mom to me and we had grown closer after my mom passed away. It was a 20 hour drive home and I cried most of the way. I cried for weeks after a well. Thinking of it now still brings me tears. As she was telling me that Satan had a hold on me and that she was trying to save me, all I did was remind her how much I loved her and my uncle. Every time since then that we have talked, she says the same thing, but now she told me I was a lost cause. I feel like trying to stay in touch is detrimental to her mental health ( and my own). I don't want to give up or abandon the last of my family, but I can't talk to her and endure the endless insinuations that I'm evil because I don't believe in her religion. She took a bad fall and broke her arm. The last time we spoke, she talked as if it was my fault for bringing the devil into her home.
While I could usually brush this off as delusional ranting, it hits hard because the same day she fell, my dad died. I know the Powers That Be only give as much as we can handle, I just wish they didn't have so much faith in me.
They are in their 80s. I know in all the pieces of my broken heart that they'll never be able to accept my daughter and I unless we change religions and it has crossed my mind just to say we have to put her at ease, but I can't lie like that to them and we cannot betray ourselves like that either. By

I’d like to preface this by saying I am currently seeing a neurologist and have been seen for the current issue at hand and they have not been able to figure out the issue as of yet. I am asking for advice, knowledge, or anything that could help me figure it out. Thank you!
From the ages of 13-18 I had chronic debilitating migraines every day. The type where you wake up and fall asleep with them. I got countless tests and medicines prescribed nothing worked and no issues were ever found on the root cause. One day I woke up and they just disappeared, then I joined the Military. I’m still in the military and have frequent headaches and migraines here and there, not nearly as bad as it was.
Also of note, my mom had a Chairi Malformation and needed brain surgery, which is hereditary I believe. I was tested and they were unable to find this issue.
As of lately, I have this weird thing that whenever I sleep on my right side of my body, I have this loud ringing in my ears/head that actually causes pain. The only thing I could think of comparing it to is like the ringing sound in movies people have after a bomb goes off and they are regaining their hearing. It’s not EXACTLY like that, but the only thing that comes close. Which this issue, it happens right when I fall asleep. When it happens, I can’t wake up right away, almost like a sleep paralysis feeling for about 5 seconds. When I wake up and open my eyes it stops and I’m too tired to move that I just try and go back to sleep. Right when I close my eyes again though, it happens again and again until I flip over onto the left side of my body and it stops. It does not happen any other time, only when I sleep on the right side of my body. This problem freaks me out and almost makes me not want to sleep because it hurts a lot and is a terrible feeling. This issue has only been present for the last year or so. It’s been about 6 years since I had chronic migraines.
Any help would be greatly appreciated! I know it’s a weird one, but I’m hoping someone has had a similar experience and was able to figure it out ?? Thank you!

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"Festicus…"
Marcus stared down at the felled rat, watching as his great furrowed head lulled and fell to the side.
"Festicus!"
"He issss being gone, Ssssire," Verulex said behind him.
Marcus bent low and tried to rouse the great brute that had saved his life, denying that he was about to let another rat man die for him like Gatskeek had.
"Wake up, Marrow soldier!" he yelped in the creature's vacant eyes. "There's cavalry charges still to be led!"
No response. Sullen and vengeful, Marcus let the head drop.
I hesitated, he thought. I didn't act quick enough. If I had the damn foresight to grab that blade sooner…
"Be letting him be. He isss doing hisss duty to Clan and –"
"Oh, shut up, priest," Marcus spat, turning with fury to look upon the hooded cretin who was still managing to coax his anger even now. "Your Order might consider a single rat's life to be meaningless – something to just throw away in the service of your God, but this warrior deserved more than this."
The High Priest of Glumrot fixed Marcus with his puss-filled eyes. Those eyes spoke of toxic thoughts ruminating beneath them.
"Be turning your thoughtssss to vengeancccce, Sssssire," Verulex wheezed as he shambled over to the Matron's eviscerated body and prodded at it with the staff of his office, making sure the creature's life had finally expired. He then nodded down at the still breathing form of the unconscious Yeeva below Marcus, the soft skin of her belly weeping purple blood from the perforation Marcus had made as she took Festicus's life.
He scoffed at the priest and picked up the Wakisashi that had fallen at his feet, bending low and directing his hatred at the fallen Yokra who was mumbling as though in a dream-state.
Perhaps it was a meditation practice of their kind, Marcus thought. It didn't make any biological sense for a creature to immediately collapse into unconsciousness as she just had in receiving such a near fatal wound.
He leaned closer to her as Verulex amplified his voice and called down to the army still waiting below, telling them to send a detachment and a priest to sanctify the body of one of their dead. The enemy Yokun had fallen, and they would receive some special treatment of their own.
Marcus heard general cheers resound as this proclamation echoed all through the dim streets of the putrid city. But he ignored them. Instead, he craned his neck to hear what the felled serpent was saying. There was a word on her lips that he could swear had the ring of familiarity to it.
"Matriarch…Pale…Pale Lady…"
Loyal to a fault, Marcus thought. Even in death, you sing your leader's praises. If you are a representative of one of her soldiers, I'm sure she's a force to be reckoned with among your people. That's just another reason why you have to die.
He brought the edge of the Yokun's Wakizashi to her scaled, bloody throat, tensing up as he knew that he had to do this. He had to. He wouldn't hesitate anymore.
And just as he held her head in his hand and made to bring the blade across her neck, that's when he heard it:
"…Mari…"
His hand stopped.
His brain froze.
The Wakizashi wavered as though willing him to follow-through with his desire.
But a very different desire now burned in his heart as that word traveled through his entire system and sent shivers running down his spine.
"Matriarch…Lady…Maria…"
The blade clattered against the silo platform.
"What isss happening?" Verulex asked. "Ssssire, isss thissss beasssst resssisssting?"
Marcus shook his head.
"No."
"Then be sssslaying her and let ussss go. I sssshal be honored to be ssssshowing you Clan Glumrot'sssss wayssss of debassssing the dead."
Marcus could barely even hear the words of the priest. He could register nothing in this moment except the croaking of that name – Mari's name – emanating from the slitted lips of the downed serpent.
"Bah!" Verulex howled. "Be giving me the blade. I sssshal do i-"
"No," Marcus said, then turning to the priest as though he had just been transported back to reality. "No. We take her alive."
The priest cocked his vile, hooded head at Marcus.
"Your pity for thesssse foreign hereticssss isssss doing you no favorssss, Sssshai-Alud," he said. "The Koboldssss are bad enough. Now you are even ssssshowing merccccy to the killer of your commander?"
"We…we need to question her," Marcus explained, straightening up and trying to compose himself as best he could. "We have the opportunity here to find out what she knows, where she came from, even Skegga's force composition potentially. We can't afford to lose this opportunity."
He looked into the face of the ratman and saw what he had not quite been able to see in the war-chamber earlier that night. He saw the wrinkled eyes of the holy rat narrow, and the teeth flare in anger.
"Sssssire," the priest began, slowly. "You are not undersssstanding. I am being head priesssst of Glumrot. I am favored voicccce of He-Who-Fessssterssss. The bussssinesss of dealing with dead in battle isssss up to me."
Marcus faced the rat, feeling anger take him once again.
"And I am your Shai-Alud," he said. "You should be speaking to me with more re-"
Now, he saw something else that he hadn't seen before.
He saw the Wakisashi that glimmered in the ratman's right claw.
As the little priest spoke, he watched as the tip of the blade slowly rose to touch Marcus's reverberating heart.
"You are not ssssspeaker for the Unclean," the priest told him in a cold whisper. "You ssssshal never be. A human isssss a human, jusssst assss a Kobold isssss a Kobold and a sssssnake-bitch isssss a sssssnake-bitch. Hereticsssss, all of you. And one day, sssssooon, there ssssshall come a day when you are purged from our gloriousssss empire. And on that day, Ssssshai-Alud, you may sssssee which ratssss in thisssss realm are truly holding the power."
Marcus licked his lips. His eyes now swam to watch the edges of the podium. And he became acutely conscious of just how isolated they were up here, surrounded by the dying and the dead. Like the vicious little creature said, it was his domain.
He maintained his composure. He stalled for time.
"Are you threatening me, Verulex?"
The sly smile that crossed the priest's lips then was more chilling than anything Marcus had seen thus far in the Kingdom of the rats.
"I am but a humble sssservant, Sssshai-Alud," he replied. "We all have our placcce in ratman sssssociety. Even you, Ssssshai-Alud. It issss a beautiful thing, issss it not? He-Who-Festerssss issss a mossst generoussss God. He is even giving sssscum like you a placccce among Hisssss chosen people."
Marcus stepped back as the tip of the knife inched closer to his abdomen. He could swear, still smirking, that the ratman moved with him.
And so when there finally came the rattling of chains from the lip of the silo platform's edge, Marcus was more relieved than ever. And the knife that Verulex once dangled before him simply evaporated into ash.
Magic, it seemed, could hide even the greatest crime.
"Shai-Alud!" the voice of Deekius yelped from the edge of the platform, panting as he and a retinue of soldiers threw themselves over the lip and caught their breath. "You…are you being hurt, Lor-"
"Gloomraava Deekius," Verulex interrupted. "You are coming in good time. I am taking charge of thisssss Yokun bitch. We will be exxxxecuting her publicly tomorrow, after I take sssssome time to – time to –"
The priest collapsed suddenly, coughing up a miasma of his blood in the process.
"Gloomraava Verulex," Deekius said. "You are being maimed. Be coming down, we shall be administering to you."
"Be dealing with Brother Fesssssticusss firsssst, Brother," the old priest coughed as he allowed himself to be helped away. "He issss needing your care more than I."
Marcus watched as the small retinue of rats then took stock of their surroundings, seeing the chaos and carnage that unfolded in such a tiny area over such a short space of time.
"He was being a credit to his Clan," Deekius said. "This is great loss for our people."
Verulex, meanwhile, said nothing at all.
Marcus watched as the Yokun woman was spat on and then trundled off down the silo with the others, thankful that the old priest's wounds at least stopped him from having her slain then and there. Perhaps even he knew he couldn't go against the Shai-Alud's wishes publicly.
But he'd just confirmed something that Marcus had already begun to fear – something that became far too obvious to him now after seeing the hatred burning in the eyes of Redwhiskers and Verulex both.
And, more than that, he needed to speak to that snake. He needed that more than anything. He needed to know…was it chance? Or…was Mari really..?
"Marcus," he heard Deekius say outside himself. "It is being alright now. Yokun are not being known to send more than single assassin team. If they are failing, it is because they are not blessed by their heretic Gods. Defeating them here is great victory for us all, and now, you are having nothing to fear."
The ratman lifted his arm to try and guide Marcus away but the latter rejected the help entirely. He crossed to the edge of the platform and looked down upon the city, seeing the crowds cheer to see him alive, wondering which of them truly did have any real love for him at all.
Then his eyes lighted on the descending form of Verulex, and he felt a very different idea take root within his mind.
"No, Deekius," he said. "I have plenty still to fear. But now I know what to do about it."
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My visual snow started after an upper cervical chiropractor adjustment. I had a whiplash injury and someone convinced me to go see this chiro, he does a gentle adjustment, he claimed my atlas was out of place causing my fatigue and brain fog. Well, I wish I never went, I’m in much more pain now. Paresthesia on one side of my body, and visual snow. Every dr I’ve spoke to (orthopedic, pt, neurologist) doesn’t know what visual snow is and then said there’s no way a neck injury can cause that. I had a ct scan, X-rays and an mri which all came back clear except for straightening of the upper cervical spine. I think they all think I’m crazy but I know I’m not. I want this shit to go away so bad but I don’t know how to help my neck when drs seem to be worthless when it comes to this

I'm trying to learn more about the clinical rotations in the third and fourth years of medical school. Specifically, as I understand it which may be wrong, during these years, students experience various medical specialties through rotations, but I'm not entirely clear on the details.
My main question is: What are these rotations actually like? I've come across numerous “stories” and videos online that seem like jokes, but I haven't had the opportunity to hear straightforward descriptions. For instance, is it true that these rotations involve extremely long hours or even days without sleep? How intense and demanding are they, really? Are you being worked to death? Or are those types of shifts probably referring to residency?
I'm particularly concerned because my interests are focused on Neurology and Psychiatry, and I have little to no interest in other areas, especially surgical ones or those involving emergency or trauma care. Knowing more about the duration and daily schedule of each rotation would help me assess whether I can handle them, despite my reservations. I can do anything depending on how long it is. If it’s only 2 weeks per rotation for 8 hours a day then I can survive. I am not passing out at the sight of blood or anything even close to that, I just hate the more trauma side of things. I have 0 interest in seeing someone come into ER missing limbs. The high-stakes fast paced medicine world is not for me is my real concern.
Additionally, I'm wondering about the feasibility of pursuing a medical career given my apprehensions about certain medical situations. As said already, I'm comfortable with blood, but the more graphic emergency scenarios are not for me. Do medical students with such concerns successfully complete their training? Or is a certain level of desensitization a common trait among medical professionals? Or are you all just born without a queasy bone in your body?
Thanks!

Targeting specific areas of fat, like stubborn belly fat, is a common desire for many people trying to lose weight. While there are numerous weight loss supplements on the market claiming to target belly fat specifically, it's essential to approach them with caution and skepticism.
Here are some common ingredients found in weight loss supplements that are often marketed for targeting belly fat:

1. Caffeine: Stimulants like caffeine are believed to increase metabolism and promote fat burning. However, while caffeine may provide a temporary boost in energy and metabolism, its effects on long-term weight loss and belly fat reduction are limited.
2. Green Tea Extract: Green tea contains compounds like catechins and caffeine that are thought to enhance fat oxidation and promote weight loss. Some studies suggest that green tea extract may modestly reduce body weight and waist circumference, including belly fat, but results can vary.
3. Conjugated Linoleic Acid (CLA): CLA is a type of fatty acid found in meat and dairy products, as well as in supplement form. Some research suggests that CLA supplements may help reduce body fat, including belly fat, although the evidence is mixed and the effects may be modest.
4. Garcinia Cambogia: This tropical fruit extract is often marketed as a weight loss supplement. Some studies suggest that it may inhibit fat production and suppress appetite, but the evidence is limited and inconclusive.
5. Soluble Fiber: Fiber supplements like glucomannan are believed to promote feelings of fullness and reduce appetite, potentially aiding in weight loss. While increasing fiber intake through whole foods is generally beneficial, the evidence on the effectiveness of fiber supplements for belly fat reduction is limited.

It's important to note that no supplement can specifically target fat loss in one area of the body, such as the belly, without affecting overall body composition. Additionally, many weight loss supplements may come with potential side effects or interact with medications.
The most effective and sustainable approach to reducing belly fat and promoting overall weight loss is through a combination of healthy eating, regular exercise, adequate sleep, and stress management. Focus on consuming a balanced diet rich in whole foods, including plenty of fruits, vegetables, lean proteins, and whole grains, while minimizing processed foods, sugary beverages, and excessive calorie intake. Combine this with regular physical activity, including both cardiovascular exercise and strength training, to support fat loss and improve body composition over time. Always consult with a healthcare professional before starting any new supplement regimen, especially if you have underlying health conditions or are taking medications.

My journey towards my first injection of Zepbound the Friday before last started at an age earlier than I can remember. I was told that I would finish bottles twice as fast as my brother and sisters did and that was just the beginning. I can remember my first official diet at the age of 10 and can recall the allowances given by Weight Watchers to this day, 6 protein, 5 starch, 5 dairy, 3 fats, and 3 fruits, with unlimited servings of vegetables. At the time this was the accepted way of doing things and the family followed this plan together. We would calculate these portions and buy frozen meals that had these values written on the side. I never would have known that this would be the start of a lifelong battle, where I was accepted and validated while losing weight, dismissed and ridiculed when I wasn’t. In my house weight loss was looked at as a matter of willpower and my father would take me to the grocery store where we would open the bakery cabinet and breathe in the scents of the muffins, brownies, and other pastries without giving in the the temptation of eating any of them. The yo-yoing of my weight started then and continued through 5 years ago, when I was larger than ever and found my way to a weight loss clinic that restricted calories down to 800 a day before building back up over time, mostly through the use of bars and shakes, alongside a meal of protein and veggies. Just like in the past I was able to shed weight on command with a restrictive system, eventually losing 140 pounds, which brought me from 388 down to 248. This was by far the largest loss of my life, having had losses of 90, 75, and multiple losses in the 30-50 range. This time it felt different, but the binge eating at night came back every time I would get to the 250 range. Like clockwork I would creep up and the nurse practitioner would ask if I wanted to try a medication to help and instantly I would take offense and lose the 15 pounds that crept back on, realizing along the way that I needed someone to doubt me, that I needed someone to not believe in me to get back on track. Through this entire journey I had told every person involved that I would be impressed if they could help me keep myself within a 15 pound range for over a year. This method came close but it was always 15 up and 15 down, cycling nearly every other month. This epiphany was met with curiosity and I eventually was referred to a mindful nutritionist that focused on talking through my binge eating issues and removing the good vs. bad labels that I placed on each food my entire life as it relates to food. It took some time to get on their calendar and by then I had risen to 270 pounds. I started this new part of the journey barely eating any real foods and over time I incorporated foods into my life, while removing the labels associated with them. My weight crept up, but I knew this was part of the plan as I judged less and shamed myself even less. I knew this as I had taken up zen meditation over the past few years and along the way I noticed a voice in my head, that voice used my mother’s nickname for me and whenever clothes started to tighten I would hear this admonition, and then one day I realized that I was saying these shame ridden insult out loud to myself. Over the course of a year I reduced my binge eating considerably and accepted more foods into my life. I also noticed that I would often tell my children that “I couldn’t be trusted” with his food and that food and over time I stopped doing these things, both to my benefit and their’s, as the parentification wasn’t good for either of us. Despite all of this I still continued to see the numbers climb, but didn’t weigh myself and felt better than I ever had at such a high weight. As I went past the 300 mark the guilt wasn’t there and the shame was lessened to a a degree I couldn’t imagine. Along this path I believed that the more self acceptance I could show, the less shame I would feel, and in turn I would eat only one hungry, at least eventually. My weight stabilized and I thought I was in my way,but my clothes kept getting tighter, bit by bit over time. At my next physical my doctor looked at my weight and immediately went to suggesting medication. As I tried to explain my work with my nutritionist he was dismissive and kept referring to the work I was doing as being on a diet, which I had refused to do. I was incorporating all foods in my life while not binging and although I physically didn’t feel great, I was proud of the mental place I was in. It was at this time that I began a 4-5 month dialogue between my doctor and my nutritionist. Talking about my goals, fears, and everything in between. I had become comfortable in a bigger body and accepting of it, however I was starting to notice the effect on my psyche, especially at work when I had to present and speak publicly or on camera. I came to the conclusion that I just wanted to be able to exercise regularly and buy clothes at a regular store, staying at XXL sizes or below. My nutritionist was along for the ride and while she never had a patient on Zepbound her approval meant the world to me as I had my doctor place the prescription in at the pharmacy. It was another 2 months before I asked them to fill it and I eventually had it delivered and in my fridge. I had been dismissive of everyone who had bariatric surgery and other interventions, for they didn’t have the “willpower” that I had to lose weight on command. Swallowing my pride I injected myself 11 days ago not knowing what to expect. The injection instead served as admission that I was no better than anyone else and that I could accept medical intervention for something that I just couldn’t solve in any way. After the injection I experienced a profound moment where I went to the pantry prior to a Zoom panel discussion that would have 400 people on it. In this moment I realized that I always came here prior to speaking publicly, it his time was different. I realized I wasn’t hungry and I also realized that my anxiety was lessened in a way far beyond my appetite and impulses. In the 11 days since I have come to terms with the fact that I suffered from anxiety deeper than I ever knew and this new medication made that completely clear. I now move forward hoping to stay in XXL or lower, but fearful that without this medication my anxiety will come back, with my impulsive eating right behind. I then come back to the fact that I will continue the meditation practice, exercise routine, and self acceptance tools that I’ve worked on diligently over the years to guide my path. I don’t know where this journey will take me, but I am glad that I was able to share this publicly for the first time here on Reddit

Hi there I have a very sore throat on one side and I’m seeing the doctor just setting myself up. If they prescribe antibiotics has anybody here giving antibiotics to their baby at two months and the baby has grown up and then just fine. Please comment current age of baby and when u we’re on antibiotics(amoxicillin)?

Reddit
From 2019 through summer of last year I had been taking TRT. I liked certain aspects of it (energy, motivation, etc.) but it came at a price. The price was a hyperactive sex drive and intense urges and preoccupations that had me seeking out potentially dangerous encounters. Luckily virtually all of them fell through. After stopping TRT in the summer of 2023.
In the fall I decided it was time to transition with HRT, so I booked an appointment and got prescriptions for Estrogen and Spiro and started them in October. Within a couple of weeks I was LOVING how I felt. Those (frankly troubling) impulses and urges were gone. Sorry to be crude but my dick was no longer in charge, and that was a very welcome thing. My libido crashed and it was virtually impossible to become erect (and these were/are welcome things to me). It felt a bit like I imagined chemical castration would feel - and it was frankly liberating for me.
Additionally, I felt changes in my moods (more stable, less angry, overall happier), My empathy skyrocketed, I noticed my skin softening, my body hair growth slowed significantly, armpit odor changed (went away IMO) … all of the standard things they tell you. And I loved it all. Then too my delight, in late December I started to feel the tingle in my breasts/nipples that signaled the beginning of growth. My chest circumference (around the breasts) grew 2.5 inches in the first 4-5 months alone. They were painful at times, but I also noticed they were more sensitive to stimulation. Again - loved it all. (except for now I’m pretty self-conscious about having my shirt off, for any reason - but I don’t even mind that I guess).
Some other things I noticed: My sense of smell changed, I would have these phantom smells that were unpleasant at times (came and went - no, not COVID related either). I was also cold all the time (didn’t mind this, just wore warmer clothes). I’m not sure if my body fat was redistributing at that time, I think it might have been but it was subtle.
Then, in March I was feeling that my clothes were feeling a bit tighter (in the wrong spots as well as the right ones), and I hopped on the scale. I almost puked - I had gained 25 lbs since starting HRT. And I was CONSTANTLY exhausted. This is when I decided I had to pump the brakes.
From childhood I always struggled with weight and body image. When I was on TRT, I actually lost over 60 lbs over the course of a few years, and I still didn’t feel like it was enough. I knew that there was a risk of weight gain with M2F HRT, and 5-10 lbs would have been fine with me. But 25 lbs over the course of 5.5 months was a deal breaker, and this brings me to my point/questions…
I backed off the Estrogen and now the benefits I enjoyed are waning. My libido and urges are creeping back and the morning erections have returned (I actually dusted off my old chastity device, and locked myself back up, that’s another long story). My hair is starting to grow quicker, just this morning I noticed a ‘male’ armpit smell again and my moods are up and down again. Ugh!
In your experience/s is there a way to balance all of this out? I really miss/want the benefits of the Estrogen without the weight gain and exhaustion that I experienced.
I have been taking some supplements that seem to help with T levels (or at least side effects), Red Reishi Mushroom is a 5-alpha reductase inhibitor - that seems to be kind of effective for me (not perfect but it has helped), and I also take a high quality white peony supplement that purportedly promotes aromatization of T into E. These things have helped a little and weight gain has stopped - but I really miss the positive benefits of Estrogen injections but gaining more weight is simply a deal breaker. I just can’t.
Any advice? Have any of you had similar responses? How did you cope with (or avoid) the weight gain?

Ok... sorry for the novel, but I really wanted some opinions.
I have enlarged tonsils since I am a little girl. I remember my pediatrician telling my mom something like: "Hmmm in a normal case I would remove them, but this poor girl is always at hospital so let's give her a break if it doesn't cause her problems. Just put a humidifier in her bedroom."
I never really thought my tonsils were bugging me, cause I never made a link til recently between my tonsils and frequent throat infection, soar throats, etc. I only had one real tonsillity in my life.
In December 2022, I caught a cold that never wanted to go away. I got antibiotics near Christmas and they made me bleed like crazy. Sorry for the details, but I was literally spitting some chunks of blood, could play with them like Playdoh. I felt like I was spitting some parts of my body. It lasted like 2 days. I seriously thought I'd have to go to hospital but didn't cause it stopped.
Since then, I didn't stop having problems. I went to em so many times and our ems are just so stupid in Quebec. They were watching me 30 seconds (no joke), saying I had asthma, sinusity, bronchitty, or nothing at all... never the same diagnostic, no scan or real test, and prescribe me antibiotics, pumps and sprays that never worked. And I always followed the treatment correctly like they told me, like a good little soldier. I had a constant headache and couldn't breathe properly.
After almost a year of not feeling good, being depressed and very persistant suicidal thoughts (I even wrote a suidide letter to my kids and boyfriend), I finally decided to go to a private clinic. I had a scan and the lady told me I had a maxillary chronic sunisity. For the first time, I felt like someone was listening to me and wow, that was good. I had a septoplasty, which did help a lot my breathing but didn't solve the entire thing.
Now, the problem seems to really be more in my throat and I really begin to wonder if my tonsils could be the issue... I feel like my tonsils became bigger with all the antibiotics I took in 2022-2023. I still can swallow, but it is not as fluid as before. I really feel like an animal is stuck between my nose and my throat. I can spit some little pieces but the feeling of having somebody living in my throat never disappear. lol Constant post nasal drip, pressure all over the face with variant intensity during the day, throat aches with variant intensity. I really feel like I want to spit something big and thick, but it is too far between my nose and throat to get out. Like a part of me that wasn't there before. Also, it makes me sound more nasal, which I absolutely hate. I am totally blind so my voice is like a reflection in a mirror and now I feel like a part of my face is burnt, if you know what I mean...
I don't think I have real tonsils stones since I heard tonsils stones were hard. But every morning, I spit chunks of thick mucus. I feel like I cannot spit everything cause it is too thicnk and too far from my nose or throat to be spittable!!! I snore a lot when I sleep too.
The funny thing is that some doctors told me my tonsils were realllllllly big and some others just told me: oh they are just a little bigger than normal, nothing to worry about... I know they are also cryptic.
I mean, maybe the problem is not my tonsils... I just want to find what I have exactly.
I know you are not experts, but what do you think of all this? Do some people with tonsils problems experimented the same symptoms?
Thank you to the 2 people who will read all this!!! :)

I’ve had one cup of coffee every day for the last 10 years. More cups of coffee years before that. I’m quitting so I can take some medication.
I’ve taken theanine with my coffee for the last year which greatly reduced the negative side effects while still giving me a caffeine rush.
It’s day 4 and I’m barely functioning. I can no longer wake up, have coffee and go for a run. I barely have the energy to get off the couch. I’m irritable and depressed. My body has no idea how to poop normally. This is awful.
When does the exhaustion let up? Everything else I can manage, but when will I be able to wake up after a full nights rest and go for a run? Do decaf people (over 30) feel rested when they wake and are able to exercise? Can someone advise me on a timeline?

Eivor is a bit of a strange protagonist.
She’s basically flawless and without blame. She’s brash and bold, proud and unashamed — brave and wise far beyond her years, yet able to be soft and compassionate when not brandishing spears. She’s got a knack for leadership, a strong moral compass and an even stronger muscular system with which to enact justice.
And she’s got bars?
As someone not deeply versed in medieval European histories, imagine my shock and confusion upon discovering that Assassin’s Creed: Valhalla included rap battling.
My first experience with Flyting had me asking so many questions about what I just witnessed that I couldn’t wait to begin Googling. I figured flyting probably was historically accurate, but if that’s the case, then what else can it tells us about the medieval warrior and about Eivor’s characterization?
I set off to find out.
--
Wikipedia and howstuffworks combined gave me a robust definition of flyting.
A ritual, poetic exchange of insults practiced mainly between the 5th and 16th centuries. Examples of flyting are found throughout Scots, Ancient, Medieval and Modern Celtic, Old English, Middle English and Norse literature involving both historical and mythological figures. The exchanges would become extremely provocative, often involving accusations of cowardice or sexual perversion.
The idea behind flyting was to influence public opinion of the participants and raise both of their profiles. And each participant wanted to make himself look better than the other, even if they were friendly.
Not only that, but flyting’s also the first recorded use of shit as an insult. That right there is worth this whole essay and then some.
--
I came away from those definitions with some small Euphoria, as they reinforce what I already expected from Ubisoft — historically accurate and (arguably) immersive side activities grounded in realism.
Unfortunately, none of the flyting foes that Eivor faces in this fantasy are founded in any real-world flyters. I was particularly frustrated when I realized Fergal the Faceless and Borghild the Alewife’s Bane were fictional features, not real historical fiends of rhythm and rhyme.
Two of Eivor’s syntax competitors are “real” in some sense, however.
In Norse mythos, Odin, Thor, Loki, Freyja and more would handle their Family Matters over a flyte from time to time, dueling wits and words as competition and entertainment.
In fact, one flyte we do see in game — Odin as he flytes over the river with Thor in the Asgard Arc — is likely a reference to a real medieval Norse poem; The Hárbarðsljóð.
In it, Thor jaunts back to Asgard after a journey in Jötunheim. He comes to a junction in which he must jump a large river, and thus hunts down a ferryman to shepherd him across. The ferryman, Hárbarðr, is Odin in disguise. He then begins to diss guys.
Ahem. ‘Guys’ being Thor, obviously.
First, Odin drops a yo-mama joke:

Of thy morning feats art thou proud, but the future thou knowest not wholly; Doleful thine home-coming is: thy mother, me thinks, is dead.

He keeps going, taking more shots than a First Person Shooter, this time saying Thor dresses like a girl:

Three good dwellings methinks, thou hast not; Barefoot thou standest and wearest a beggar’s dress; Not even hose dost thou have.

Thor says watch your mouth before I clap back:

Ill for thee comes thy keenness of tongue, if the water I choose to wade; Louder, I ween, than a wolf thou cryest, if a blow of my hammer thou hast.

Odin replies by saying Thor’s wife is fucking another dude:

Sif has a lover at home, and him shouldst thou meet; More fitting it were on him to put forth thy strength.

The version we play out in game isn’t identical to the real-world poem, but carries some similarities; Thor’s threatening to cross the river to fight Odin as well as his boasting of slaying giants are present in each.
Ratatosk is the only other ‘real’ flyting enemy in Valhalla. While Odin doesn’t flyte with Ratatosk in Norse myth to my knowledge, the flyting against the squirrel is thematically accurate, at least.
Ratatosk’s purpose is to scramble up and down Yggdrasil, scurrying spoken messages from the eagle that sits at its peaks to the snake that slithers at its base. The nature of Ratatosk’s messages is in line with the act of flyting — the mischievous rodent carries falsehoods and aggressive statements to stir up drama and distrust between bird and serpent.
Flyting took place not only in poems and folklore, but in town squares and royal court. It was a facet of medieval life and social interaction. This weaving of prose then, in this time period, seemingly was just about as much of an admired skill as the swinging of a sword. It’s no wonder our unbreakable warrior Eivor is so proficient with word.
--
Like, really proficient with word.
I mean, I know it’s me choosing the dialogue options, but sheesh, is there anything she can’t do?
Actually, Eivor’s expertise in flyting is strange to me. It feels random and unearned — out of character, even. It comes more unexpectedly than Kendrick Lamar’s Not Like Us.
It probably only feels out of character, however, due to our modern understanding of proficiency with words versus proficiency with might. Our current interpretation of verbal ability compared to physical ability would perceive verbal ability as the ‘softer’ of the two skillsets. Physical strength is typically interpreted as tough and more dominant. You don’t expect to see an MMA fighter composing poetry, do you? The qualities that modern thought attributes to writing and physicality don’t mesh.
But in reality — and historically accurately in Valhalla — medieval warriors weren’t just blind berserkers. They were actually artists, poets and writers.
We’ve already demonstrated how Odin and Thor — Norse myth’s most famous warriors — carried out flyting. Thus, medieval Vikings would’ve surely done the same. Beyond Vikings though, the Illiad contains instances of public, ritualized abuse. Taunting songs are present in Inuit culture while Arabic poetry contains a form of flyting called naqa’id. Further, Japanese Samurai were known to be frequent composers of haiku, while Japanese culture also gave birth to Haikai, poetry in which vulgar satire and puns were wielded.
This historical accuracy ends up eliminating the randomness of Eivor’s flyting ability. Despite her verbal finesse feeling unearned, we can surmise historically that Eivor has practiced the wielding of words plenty in her life before we take over as the player. She’s dedicated time to this.
Now that we know why she has it, we can take a closer look at what it does for her.
--
So, Eivor can rap. She can match you with her axe or she can match you with her words. She’s just about unbeatable.
Her mastery of words demonstrates on some level that she’s not all Push Ups and might is right. She’s not all bruiser and bluster, burn and berserk. She’s an appreciator of the finer things — the more abstract, mental skills that require brain power, deftness and finesse.
This duality of strength and genius rounds out Eivor into a deeper, richer, more admirable character. More than just raw muscle in pursuit of glory, Eivor’s mastery of verse demonstrates her prioritizing not just her body, but her mind.
And it goes a long way for her.
Eivor can use her prowess with prose to progress past pointless plot points throughout Valhalla’s plethora of arcs and missions. It’s just a stat check in the end, but with enough practice flyting and enough charisma gained, Eivor unlocks new dialogue options that bend the world around her to her will.
Witch hunters in Eurvicscire on the brink of terrorizing Moira can be dispersed verbally rather than brawled or killed. There’s an entire riddle-solving fetch quest in Wincestre that can be skipped completely by telling King Aelfred’s abbot fuck off (figuratively). Eivor’s sharpening of her mind protects her body, saves her time, and allows her to frictionlessly fell her endeavors.
Her articulate advances don’t just alter her into admirability, they allow her to influence people and progression. With semantics from her mouth and twists from her tongue, Eivor can have her way whenever she wishes. In a game this large, I’m only left longing that the opportunity to make use of this charisma wasn’t relegated to niches.
Regardless, if medieval England is butter, Eivor’s tongue is the hot knife that behooves her move through her subduing more smoothly.
It all just goes to show that ̶m̶i̶g̶h̶t̶ flyte is right.

Hey everyone. I’m back to further share my experiences with HSV2. My (25m) girlfriend (23f) have only been dating for a few months. We have not had sex. The other weekend we were making out and touching and then a few days later she had to go to the hospital. I was worried because she had all the symptoms I experienced when I first got diagnosed, sore throat, fever, rashes (not an outbreak but a rash almost like sunburn) even before she told the doctors that I had hsv2 and we’ve been intimate (still, no sex) they told her they were concerned she had hsv2. So she got tested and it came back negative, but to my understanding there’s still a good chance she has it and it will come up positive on her next blood test. (That’s what happened to me. First a negative result then the positive) I’m wondering if anyone else had spread/contacted HSV2 from intimacy, but not sex. (This fucking sucks)

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?”

i noticed as we flew through the sky, on our way to regroup with Lobelia's group, that in this dragon form drew in energy as i flew, maybe in a way to maintain the form, this was too new for me to know at this time. it didn't take long to reach the spot to regroup with Lobelia, but when we arrived, we didn't see anyone around the area. i decided to come in for a landing, since i figured we might have arrived a bit early and i didn't want to cause a panic in this form in case someone else came along. as i was landing, i suddenly felt a rumbling through the ground, questioning if this was a quake or something else. it didn't take long to get my answer since a mere moment later we saw a huge explosion off in the distance. i had an uneasy feeling about this, as i turned my head to look at Clint, Bruno, and Vince, whom all had the same feeling. with no words exchanged, i took back to the sky and headed in the direction of the explosion, hoping that this wouldn't be a repeat of my village. while we were still approaching the area, we saw a green light fired into the air roughly where we were heading. Clint yelled out to me, letting me know that was a distress flare the elf group used during their share travels following me to Dragonus. i started to pick up speed, as the group tighten their grips, to try to get to them sooner. when we arrived over head, we looked down on a field full of beasts, monsters, and demons. what once was an unknown future has finally come to a head and we had no other choice but to engage the enemies.
as we flew over the battlefield, i started to fire off different elemental dragon blasts to thin out the enemy groupings and help find where Lobelia's group was exactly located. they fired off another distress flare spell, allowing me to lock on to their location, at which time Clint's group heard me speak for the first time in this form. "do you trust me?", to which they each nodded, "then release your grip and follow me", to with they did. at this moment, i released the dragon form, sending us all into a free fall toward the ground. Vince started to cast every buff he could think of as we fell on the party, while Bruno, Clint, and i drew our weapons for battle. i focus energy into one of my hands and with a swing of my arm, i enveloped the group in wind barriers. just before we were about to make impact, i went into a drive-bomb stance, while charging as many elements as i could into my weapon. upon impact, my weapon blew apart, unleashing the elements and weapon fragments through the area, causing massive explosions, wiping out hundreds of enemies at once. Clint, Bruno, and Vince came in a mere moment later, causing shock waves around the area, sending enemies flying. i quickly pulled out two swords to duel-wield, has we started to fight our way through the hoards of enemies, making our way over to Lobelia's group. Clint's group went to fortify Lobelia's group, while i continued to thin the ranks in front of us, unleashing everything i learned during my training. Vince and a few of the elves cast various team buff abilities on me, as the others aided from behind, guessing worried that one of my new skills might catch them by accident. Lobelia took advantage of some strong winds approaching and caused the wind to form a few tornadoes on the battlefield with air magic. something inside told me what i should do, almost as if by memory, i combined together ground and fire elements and slammed the spell into the ground toward one of the tornadoes. followed by shooting off water and ice spells into another, then finishing by firing off a lightning dragon blast down the center of the field, taking out numerous enemies before hit another one of the tornadoes. the ground started to rumble as it split open and lava strayed out, heading toward the first tornadoes, opening a volcanic eruption underneath, forming a magma twister. the water and ice struck the next one, forming high speed ice tornado. the lightning hit another one, whipping it around until it became a voltaic twister. these three ripped through the battlefield, wiping out hoards of enemies by the second, until all three smashed together causing a huge explosion over the entire battlefield. we all quickly took cover, as everything came raining down, wiping everything out. as the dust started to settle, we all regrouped, everyone absolutely stunned by what just happened. when we could finally see the field again, we saw that there was still someone standing out in the middle of the battlefield. the lone survivor yelled out at us "you'll have to do better then that to kill me", just then realizing, he seemed to be a high ranked demon.
the demon stood there, staring us down, waiting for one of us to make a move. we debilitated if we should spread the group back out some, so that we wouldn't be seen as a single target for the demon. i told the group that i would go in for the attack to hold his attention and they should provide back up and support when they saw an opening. i stepped forward out of the group and started to walk toward the demon, as it started to smirk back at me. after i got enough distance between me and the group, i did a quick flap of my wings to shoot myself forward at the demon and start the battle. the demon readied for contact, as a mere moment later we made first contact of battle. in a flash the battle begin with us blasting around the battlefield, firing off attacks and spells nearly faster then the eye can see. everyone else took any small opportunity they saw to try and aid with buffs, spells, and attacks. the demon seemed annoyed by the interference to our battle and start to fire off attacks back at the others any chance he got. this battle continued as a stalemate for half a day, which the demon took any opportunity when we locked in a clash to taunt me. it would says things each time such as "this world is already going to be destroyed", "you all don't stand a chance", "you really think you can save them", and more of the like. it wouldn't be long before the demon started to put it's words into action, as a few of the elves shot off infused arrows at it when they saw an opening, just for the demon to catch them mid flight and redirect the arrows back at them, sending the arrows straight through their skulls and killing half the elves in Lobelia's group. this threw the groups into a panic, which caused them to act rashly in an attempt to take out the demon. Lobelia and Vince stayed back casting buffs and heals on the remaining people, while the remaining few elves, Clint and Bruno jumped into the battle in an attempt to end this. before i could stop them, they charged in for the attack and i needed to try my best to stop the demon from getting them as well. the battle intensified as we attacked from all sides in an attempt to overwhelm the demon and hopefully turn the fight in our favor. it seemed to be working as we seemed to be slowly damaging it, that is until i realized my attacks were the only few that actually doing damage. the demon suddenly smirked again and i quickly yelled out for them to get back, but by this point it was too late. as Clint went in for a swift strike, the demon caught his sword arm, ripping it out at the shoulder socket, and plunging his sword through his head. the few elves followed shortly after when the demon ripped one in half while skewering two more with it's tail, before smashing another's head in with a headbutt and the last one being sent flying with a kick to the chest and splattering on the ground upon impact. i had already moved in to try and stop him, but kept getting knocked back, as it's focus was on the other people here. Bruno went in for an attack as the demon was dealing with me and managed to chop off one of it's wings before it turned around and grabbed Bruno by the neck. before i could stop it, the demon plunged it's other hand straight through Bruno's armor and chest, ripping his heart out. before tossing Bruno's body aside, the demon took the sword from Bruno's hands and threw it in a spinning motion toward Vince, slicing him in two. before it could do anything to Lobelia, i fired off a full elemental dragon breath, blasting a giant hole through the demon. as i stood over the demon, readying to kill him, i asked if he had anything to say before i ended him. the ground started to rumble and quack as he said to us, "you fools, it's already too late, i was but a distraction. your world falls now!". i chopped off it's head as we hear explosions in the distance and the ground starts in split open and crumble. after all that had happened, everything we went through, and losing all but me and Lobelia, was this truly the end for us?