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It had been a few weeks since Altier was brought to the run-down shack that his black-scaled companion likely called home, and he could now comfortably say he was accustomed to the…household’s routine. The kobold typically left at the crack of dawn, returned a little after noon, and occasionally left again to forage until nightfall. When the weather was bad or there wasn’t a particular need for something, they half-heartedly chased their rabbit around for a bit, which usually ended with a bout of quiet petting while everyone got ready for the night. It was always amusing to see the energetic side of what he had come to know as a relatively lazy loaf of an animal. As for the routine of the ferrorabbit in question… Well…it was at least more interesting than expected.
Hoppit would begin his own series of activities as soon as his caretaker left—the first of which being a check of every nook and cranny in the shed. He sniffed at anything that caught his interest, varying from morning to morning, but he gave every object or corner its due attention. Once he was satisfied with that, he would eat some of the ragged plants that made up most of his diet, take a drink from his bowl, then jump onto the tro— table and plop himself down, his ears pivoting towards the door. It was hard to say if the lounging spot had been established before Altier’s arrival, but it was somewhat amusing to pretend that the little rabbit was standing guard over his core—if it wasn’t for one particular part of the morning ritual, that is.
Indeed, the ferrorabbit had a habit of licking the obsidian orb that sat in the middle of the room, which thankfully didn’t seem to perturb the system enough to give Altier a headache. He was confused when it first happened, but it was commonplace enough now that he barely acknowledged it. A part of him liked that he was getting attention as a core, even if it was delivered via a strange grooming method. The closest he got to being acknowledged as something other than ‘the dungeon’ was through an unfortunate misunderstanding that he could never properly rectify. He supposed that was hardly worth thinking about now, though; too much time had passed for there to be anyone left to correct. The little oddity of his mornings would have to suffice.
There wasn’t much to comment on as far as the rest of the day’s happenings. Hoppit would end his loafing by shaking his head and ears in a way that filled the silence with soft clacks, give the core a customary tongue bath, then jump off the table to nose his way out of the shed through a hole that was hidden by the storage cart against the wall. Where the rabbit went was anyone’s guess, but he always returned before anyone noticed he was gone, and often did so while covered in small cuts and scratches. Any blood from the lacerations was quickly licked off before it could be seen by the kobold, and in the event that the scaly caretaker happened to return earlier than expected, Hoppit would scurry over to the bundles of blankets to finish the cleanup in secret.
Today looked to be following the usual pattern. The kobold left bright and early with various gardening tools and a wooden pail, and Hoppit had since set off into the great unknown for one reason or another. Hopefully, he returned less injured than usual. It was frustrating to admit that Altier had begun to grow rather fond of the fluffy creature, and seeing the thing come back hurt was bothersome. Was it off looking for food? There wasn’t a whole lot given to it, so that was a possibility, and it could be getting into fights over whatever it found. That still didn’t explain why the animal was so thin, and Altier didn’t have enough to go off of to think of a potential solution. He wanted to help it in some way, like by summoning a creature to act as an escort, or maybe just by manifesting something edible like he once could. No, he could only stare at the ‘Synchronizing…’ that occupied his menu, wishing he had more information to work with.
He never thought he would miss the bombardment of notifications and their lingering presence that filled the edge of his mental vision; at least with that he could surmise enough to hazard some kind of action. Even knowing why the menu was acting the way it did would be a start. Yet, try as he might, there wasn’t a history for him to reference anymore, and he had nothing to work with. He was confident the last message had asked him to ‘accept’ something, then took his befuddled ponderance as an answer, but he was no closer to an explanation for what it wanted, nor why it prompted him in the first place. He just didn’t have another experience to compare against, since nothing like that had ever happened before. Not that he was ever in much of a position to allow it.
The entire purpose of having Altier inhabit a core was for him to become a dungeon of Decay, which entailed all the skeletons, poisons, acids, and whatever else came to mind when one pictured the concept. ‘Living’ creatures were something he only had the chance to experiment with near the beginning of his new existence, though he never dabbled past the first few insects before transitioning to the mindless undead. Having a thinking, feeling, breathing entity touch his core was a rite reserved only for the adventurers and soldiers that bested his trials, and that was usually a painful experience. Now, he had spent what he could only guess was hours being held by a kobold, followed by having a rabbit bump against him, and neither felt like what he came to expect. Instead, both had led to a completely novel reaction from the system. The strange circumstances put him at a bit of a loss as to what it all meant for him.
Sure, he could dismiss the deluge of errors from his companion’s involvement by pointing to the numerous ‘corrupted’ messages before it, and Hoppit was a part of mostly unexplored territory, but the lack of clarity nagged at the back of his mind constantly. Being exposed to activity after potential decades or centuries of unchanging solitude made him despise the informational dead end. If he couldn’t make sense of the rabbit’s circumstances, then he didn’t have much hope of deciphering the reason for why his system was misbehaving so terribly. He also didn't know much about the one who owned the decrepit holdings he was housed inside.
He still wasn’t sure what drove the kobold to take him from the cave. His suspicion of becoming traded goods fell flat after the first week or so, and he hadn’t noticed any cult-like behaviour, which was promising. Granted, a lack of nefarious behaviour didn’t mean there was a lack of nefarious intent, but he didn’t get the impression his companion held that either. The kobold itself didn’t seem quite settled on an opinion of his core, though it was up for debate if the hesitation was due to knowing what he was or not. They seemed to mull something over before bed each night, yet never reached a satisfactory conclusion, staring at the obsidian orb through weary grey eyes until they eventually forced themselves into sleep.
Whatever the underlying reasoning for his abduction was, he had observed enough to know that the kobold didn’t deserve to live in destitution. As beaten as the shed might be, they cared for it as best they could, and did so without a single groan or grimace of complaint. The floors were cleaned with a tattered rag and fresh water, dust was removed regularly, and any stray mess that Hoppit made was dealt with promptly. They even took the time to wipe off his core, which was possibly where the ferrorabbit got the idea to start licking him. The only time Altier had seen discontent from the kobold was when they didn’t find much during their foraging, and thus couldn’t give any treats to the excited and bouncy herbivore.
He wasn’t aware that a creature’s face could make such a painfully broken expression, and he was quick to decide that he never wanted to see it again.
Vexingly, his metaphorical hands were tied; a dungeon could only influence their Domain, and given the state of his system, not even that option was available to him. All he could do was glare at the rotting wooden beams that held up the roof and remember when such an issue didn’t exist. It would have taken a mere flicker of thought and a paltry sum of mana to mend the struts when he was a proper dungeon. He could even outright reinforce the structure by weaving in other materials, leaving the appearance as it was while making everything stronger than iron. Well, he once could. Working with other affinities was something that came to him after absorbing the coloured motes left behind by adventurers, and the accursed stone that stole his mana had taken that ability as well.
An attempt was made anyway, his will ordering the deteriorated wood to absorb any trace metals from the ground, but it was no use. He couldn’t feel the iron or stones beneath the shed like he would have been able to before, all but confirming his suspicion that his connection to the Earth element had slipped away. Nature was much the same; the only way he knew when Hoppit had returned most days was from the subtle noise and the essence of injury. The other attributes—Air, Flame, Luma, Shadow, and so on—were ones he never experimented with to any real extent, so it was less noticeable when he lost his grasp on them. Perhaps they faded early. Either way, all he had left was a waning cognizance of his own alignment, and that wasn’t of much use to him. If he had any appreciable mana income, then perhaps he could do something, but he wasn’t even sure what the upkeep of his current Domain might be. It was entirely possible that he was running on a deficit, which would offer a reason for why his system had been so—
[Do#$@n Ex@#d$%^&d! CRe@#r H-H-H-HoPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP—]
[Errrrrrr—]
[Sy$%^hroni%^$zing…]
[Creeee-tu— Hoppit ha@$ esttttb-hed terrrrrrr-ity f^#% t$e dun@&$n!]
- - - - -
“Well then,” he mumbled to himself, taking in the strange scene behind the shed. For one, he could actually view a small distance beyond the structure now, and two, there was a rather proud-looking Hoppit sitting on his haunches before a pair of significantly less prideful examples of the species. They looked quite a bit bigger than the lazy loaf Altier had come to know, yet they were more cut up and dejected than his furry friend. That answered where the injuries had been coming from, he supposed. Hoppit was probably running off to bash heads with whatever animal population existed here beforehand, and they had only just reached a consensus on who was in charge. Impressive.
One of Hoppit’s ears turned back towards the shed, his head following suit as he gave a lagomorph’s approximation of a ‘Look what I did!’ smile. Altier blanked out mentally, but didn’t have time to question anything before the new leader of the local rabbits imperiously pointed a paw towards the surrounding forest, which was equally surreal to witness. Most surprising of all, the…subordinates? The other ferrorabbits did as commanded, keeping their forms small as they took off into the foliage. Soft clacks came from Hoppit’s pleased shake of his head, then he too left the area with only a slightly lopsided bounce to his stride.
The man-turned-core could only gape at what he saw. Were animals always so…expressive? Had Hoppit heard him? What in the world was happening? Why had Hoppit’s personal conquest led to Altier’s Domain expanding?
He lamented not having fingers, nor temples to rub with them. His system was a garbled mess of errors and inconsistent messages, his residence was falling apart at the seams, his companion was someone who abducted him from the dungeon, yet never did anything past that, and his first real experience with an animal was turning out to be more confusing than he thought possible.
All of this was after an unknown amount of time spent commanding legions of undead to strengthen the very people who he would later learn had lied to and manipulated him, making him into a nightmarish entity just to bolster the power of their forces. He almost missed the days spent gazing out of a mossy window. At least then he knew what to expect.
Nothing made sense anymore.
= = = = =
The soft sound of roots ripping free from soil suddenly stopped, only to be followed by a dull thud of Ceele’s palm slapping against the ground to catch her fall before she landed on her rear. She righted herself with her tail and tossed the stubborn weed into a pile with the others. No matter how many mornings she did this, they always seemed to replace themselves faster than she could remove the pesky things. A sigh slipped from her muzzle as she set about grabbing the next one embedded in the vegetable garden.
Aches and spreading stiffness flared up, but went ignored as she neared the end of her duties, though she was well aware that they would come back with force once she tried to settle down for the day. The impending soreness was an inevitable byproduct of spending so much time working. Still, she knew that if it wasn’t for the kindly old couple that allowed her to call their shed home, she would still be sleeping beneath the stars while making sure nothing tried to get at her Hoppit. Even if it was just a part of the deal, they were owed this much in return, and she would see it done properly.
The sun bore down on her back as she did her usual tasks, which was a departure from the slightly overcast weather as of late. It looked somewhat promising when she checked in the wee hours of the morning, yet as her gardening duties dragged on, so too did the intensity of such a clear sky. A disappointed glance at the empty wooden bucket on the edge of the field was quickly corrected. She hadn’t thought to refill it at the river after watering the crops, and her parched throat was making its protests known, while also reminding her that there wasn’t much water left at home either. One more thing to take care of when she was done.
A gruff cough brought her attention towards the old kobold resting his back against a tree some distance away, safely shaded from the unforgiving rays beaming down. Her displeasure at having yet more to do was hastily wiped away. She was undecided on what to think of the detached audience, but looking so sour while upholding her side of the agreement wouldn’t reflect well on her. Hopefully, he hadn’t seen it. Not that she could tell if he did; he always had the same expression when he watched her work. The elder kobold’s arms were crossed, a finger tapping absently against his bicep, while his tail sat motionless on the grass, the muddy red colour of his scales standing out amongst the greens and browns. ‘Makis,’ was his name, assuming her memory served.
Makis had taken to observing her every so often, usually propping himself against this or that at a distance, the unwavering scowl being as unnerving as it was belying of his age. Somewhat loose skin sagged a bit around his jowls and neck, yet the rest of his face was still taut from how much time he spent examining red-hot metal, and his arms were marred with countless burns and cuts from his profession. He held an oppressive aura, though the crinkles around his eyes and muzzle suggested he smiled as frequently as he glowered, even if Ceele was yet to see the former. There was only the same judgmental expression aimed at her when he was around. She could only hope that he didn’t take offence to some unintended slight, but she didn’t know him well enough to say what might be considered one.
They hadn’t spoken since she took up residence on the outskirts of his land. His wife was the one to introduce them, but it was quickly established that he had no intention of being a chatty individual. He led Ceele to the shed hidden amongst the trees on the edge of the property, then dismissed her with only a grunt coming from the elderly kobold. She supposed that it was for the best. Her experience in socializing was centred around convincing others to employ her, and there hadn’t been much of an opportunity to expand her horizons while living a life on the road. If that had been the end of their interactions, she would have swiftly written the terseness off, but he appeared every few days, taking up residence beneath the shade as he watched her work, never speaking a single word. At least he didn’t openly protest her presence, yet she figured that would be easier to manage. He wouldn’t be such an enigma then.
There wasn’t a whole lot she knew about him besides his penchant for ‘supervision,’ and anything beyond that was what his wife had volunteered during the rare opportunity they had to chat. She was told that Makis worked the smithy out front, and although he had retired from doing so in an official capacity, she could still regularly hear his hammer as she tended to the garden, so she figured he kept himself busy most days. It made her wonder what was so interesting about a vagrant like herself, but when there was so little else to do, she could see how anything could be made worth the attention. It was just him and his wife living in the once bustling home, after all; the couple’s children had long since grown up and made families of their own.
She noticed his gaze shift elsewhere as she tugged yet another stubborn intruder from the soil, his arms falling from across his chest and the perpetually worn displeasure melting to that of curiosity. He wandered off shortly after, and she had to make an effort not to fall onto her tail as the pressure on her shoulders unexpectedly evaporated. Did something happen?
Ceele shook her head free of the distracting thought. It wasn’t her business if he grew bored with watching her work. As long as no one voiced any complaints, she could only assume that she was doing a satisfactory job. Maybe he finally decided that he didn’t need to be so watchful because she was doing well! That could be it, right?
A glance at the somewhat sloppily maintained garden erased the false confidence from her face, but she was just as quick to focus on finishing up, unwilling to allow darker musings to fester. Thankfully, there didn’t seem to be anything else that needed her intervention. The weeds were all uprooted, the soil was appropriately dampened, and her check for pesky insects or wildlife turned up nothing to worry about. She was free for the rest of the day!
…Or she would be free—as soon as she finished the last of her tasks, anyway.
The black-scaled kobold got up from her crouch unsteadily, shivering and wincing from the pins and needles in her legs. She would have to remember to stretch more often; it was far too easy to forgo that kind of thing just to make the overall work go slightly faster. Her hand reached out to grab the pile of weeds and put them into the bucket as she ran through what needed to be done before she could properly relax. Hoppit’s food needed to be washed, she needed to bathe, and they were running low on water anyway, so she would have to visit the river. Just the thought of dragging herself into the forest again made her muscles protest, but she wouldn’t have the energy to do it later. She forced the smile that had started to fall and took the first of many steps.
- - - - -
The river wasn’t too far away, only taking a few minutes of traipsing through the dense woodlands until she reached her destination. It was an idyllic little spot. The trees thinned out to allow a grassy bank along the water, and there was an appreciably gentle slope from shallows to depths, making for a convenient place to take care of various needs. She had discovered this place during her travels, and it was where a kind older woman found her.
Ceele was washing off at the time, with Hoppit safely taking shelter from the outside underneath the bundled blankets while he waited. The trickle of the stream brushing against rocks covered the sound of footsteps, so she was rather surprised when an aged voice called out to ask if she was okay. Her first reaction was to distance herself and apologize—the why didn’t matter, but she had learned that most people were more lenient of her presence if she seemed apologetic for it, and she usually was. The elderly kobold just laughed at her scrambling, tacking on an assurance that there was no need for modesty. The woman was blind, apparently, which explained how Ceele’s blackened colours hadn’t deterred her.
Strangely enough, there was a comforting sense of ease around the one who introduced herself as Hira. It was a sort of presence that Ceele could only vaguely remember, and it drew her close enough to speak as she finished bathing. The conversation wasn’t anything profound, of course—they hardly delved deeper than surface-level small talk—but Hira lost her smile as she listened to the younger kobold. By the end of it, the old woman posed a series of questions with a dark inflection to her voice, and Ceele struggled to find an answer.
‘Are you tired of looking for something that only slips away? Are you tired of running? Do you really want to be scared and alone?’
If the silence bothered Hira, then it didn’t show. She had simply held out a hand and offered Ceele a way of life that didn’t involve wondering where she would be spending the night, nor entailed cowering in the brush while fearsome predators roamed freely. It would be a simple existence of few fortunes, but it was safe, and it was honest. All she had to do was say yes.
Ceele denied it at first, partially because she knew most people despised Hobbit's species, and partially because she couldn’t shake the offer being too good to be true. Hira was quick to propose a compromise; Ceele could take residence in the gardening shed that had fallen from use, and to satiate the nagging sense of an unfair deal, she would be put in charge of maintaining the garden itself. All Hira wanted was to ‘see’ her favourite space bloom again, since she couldn’t take care of it anymore. The black-scaled kobold stared longingly at where Hoppit was, his little body shivering from the prolonged cold and fear that he would be hurt if he left the blankets hiding him. It was with a heavy guilt that she accepted Hira’s offer, keeping quiet about her true reason for doing so.
That was in the past, however, though she thought about it every time she stopped by and saw the smooth rocks where she and Hira first met. Eventually, she might gather the courage to admit that she was housing a ‘pest’ and beg for forgiveness. Until then, she would just work her hardest to prove it wasn’t a mistake to give her a home. That her endless efforts weren’t meaningless. That Hoppit deserved to be more than a ‘pest.’
That Ceele was more than something she had no control over being.
She cleared her head a bit and started on the reason she came all this way. Her dress was rather easy to wash in the meandering water, and the trees provided a suitable place for it to dry in the sunlight and light breeze. The weeds were fine with a thorough rinse near in the shallows, but taking care of her own hygiene required her to wade farther in, though it only came up to her chest in the middle of the rill. Still, she could scrub off the soil and grime, which was all she really needed. Perhaps some simple soaps would help rid her of the pervasive black that stained her skin and scales, but that was beyond her meagre means for the time being, as well as being mere wishful thinking.
She worked past the dreary mindset that settled in when she allowed it, focusing on how serene the river was. The soft birdsong from the trees helped make for a peaceful experience, and she could feel the somewhat chilled liquid basically pour into the aches and pains throughout her body, washing away the stiffness from spending so long under the unerring sun. It was nice to escape reality and let thoughts drift while held buoyant by calmer waters.
Yet the bliss was short-lived. Even if winter was gone, spring was still far from warming the waters enough for her to laze about for too long. She dragged herself from the soft current and fetched her dress from the low-lying branch she left it to dry on. It was still a touch damp, but it wasn’t anything a bit of time in front of the fireplace wouldn’t fix.
Ceele was only a short distance away from home when she heard a gravelly male voice, but it was the flicker of sight between the trees that made her drop what was in her arms and lunge into a sprint.
Makis stood just outside the gardening shed, a ferrorabbit held at arm’s length by rusty crimson hands placed on the scruff and haunch, the rabbit’s little ears flattened as fear filled its tiny face. Her eyes widened further when she noticed the small stains of blood in his light brown fur. They found out about him. Ephemeral claws of blackness clutched at her soul, ripping the very fabric she was made of as an unseen beast smiled, eager to take yet one more thing from her. Her Hoppit. Her baby. Her everything.
“Hoppit!” she shrieked, her words all but tearing out of her throat in desperation. Frozen blood coursed through her veins, yet poured into exhausted limbs. She broke through the treeline with no regard for the branches slashing against her flesh, panic making each sting fade before it could be processed. The grizzled glare of the older kobold snapped towards her, his usual scowl picking up an actual air of intensity that she never thought could be absent, the promise of violence lurking in his eyes. She skidded to a stop a few paces away, the lump in her throat threatening to clog her airway. “S-stop hurting him!”
“Didn’t,” he barked back, his tone even yet firm. “Cuts ain’t me. I’d’a done worse if’a had ta mind ta.”
The blatant declaration snapped her from blind panic, although his apparent anger didn’t do her fear any favours. “B-but… Then how…”
“‘Hoppit.’ Named it, did’cha?” he grunted, ignoring her confusion and bobbing the rabbit to get her attention again. His gaze shifted back to the animal, the flames of ire cooling slightly. “I was wonderin’ why yer plots ain’t dead yet. Suppose this critter’s why.”
One of her hands hesitantly reached out until she pulled it back, while the other clutched at her chest to stop her heart from hammering against her ribs. She couldn’t act rashly. Not while her baby was in his arms. “I—”
“Soft thing, ain’t it,” the elder kobold commented curiously, cutting her off.
“Y-yes?” she returned reluctantly, struggling to stop herself from lashing out to reclaim the ferrorabbit in his grasp.
“Like fine silk.” Makis tipped and tilted the animal, inspecting this and that with a deep-seated frown, all while Hoppit silently looked to her for help. The pit in her stomach grew. She needed to get him back, but how?
Ceele swallowed the dense dread as she tried to formulate some sort of plan, stumbling over her words and forced smile. “I-it’s nice! Isn’t it nice?”
His eyes snapped back to burrow into her own with hatred. “Wasn’t a compliment, girly.”
“B-but you—”
He released Hoppit’s lower half to jab a claw at the various spikes around his body, plying them with minimal force. “Look. See this? These’r suppose ta break bone. ‘Specially when he’s stiff like this. Ain’t no way I should be able ta bend ‘em. He’s barely more than a walkin’ carcass—all skin ‘n stick. He’s gonna get picked up by a wandering pecker if he keeps pissin’ about out ‘ere. It’s a wonder he’s still kickin’. What’cha feeding ‘em?” His gaze dropped from her face to the rest of her, disgust curling his muzzle into a snarl. “N’ver mind. I can guess.”
She felt the dampness build at the edges of her vision, unprepared to not only worry for Hoppit's immediate health, but also to face such harsh criticism while she was so vulnerable. “I… I try to make sure he has…”
Makis crouched to release the ferrorabbit onto the ground, Ceele dropping to her knees the moment he did. The terrified lagomorph wasted no time, bolting towards his adoptive mother and leaping into her arms, shaking uncontrollably. The rust-coloured ‘bold stared as she started soothingly stroking the animal’s back.
“Yer given’ em the weeds, aren’t ya?” he stated rather than asked. She gave a teary nod when her voice wouldn’t respond for her. The old kobold drew a breath, letting it go in an exasperated sigh as he stood back up, his expression becoming more impatient than antagonistic. “What else?”
“I— Um…”
“What. Else?”
“W-whatever I c-can find!” she sputtered out. Hoppit tried to hide against her neck, prompting her to tighten her hold. She couldn’t stop herself from shrinking, the guilt and confusion pulling her head down. “R-roots, vegetables, fruits… I give them as often as I can.”
His glare continued unimpeded, his cadence cold. “That it?”
There were a million things Ceele wanted to say. A part of her wanted to beg him not to kick them out of the first safe place she had in longer than she could remember, but she couldn’t find the words. She wanted to deny the judgmental tone that stabbed into her insecurity surrounding how good of a job she was doing with Hoppit, but the deadened void in her chest swallowed her pride whole. She knew he was right to critique her. That she was failing in the only thing that mattered anymore. That the feeling of loss would return.
“I try,” she whispered through the beginnings of a sob. “I try to find more, but he needs someone around, and I have to work the garden, so there’s only so much time I can spend looking. He won’t even eat all of what I bring back…” Tears dripped off her cheeks as she aimed a desolate smile at her furry friend. “He wants to make sure I have some too.”
“Yer killin’ em,” Makis pointed out plainly, crossing his arms. “He’ll be dead ‘fore the summer at this rate.”
“I know!” she shouted, forcing back the memories of insidious murmurs that lurked in the back of her mind, eager to creep into her ears again. The hate-filled stares that followed her, the rumours that arrived in towns before she had the chance to make an impression, and the guilt that loomed over her like an executioner's axe… “I know I am… I just… I don’t know what he needs. I don’t know how to make him happy…but I try. I’m trying…”
“…Yer an idiot, girly.”
She looked up to see the elder kobold walking away without another word. Her eyes fell to Hoppit, the ferrorabbit pressing himself against her as much as he could. He was small, thin, soft, and growing weaker by the day, but he never let it keep him down for long. No, he always showed his best for her, giving her joy that wasn’t provided anywhere else. She saw the thin cuts and dried blood, though she didn’t know where they came from, nor how he got out of the shed in the first place. But that was okay. Hoppit was okay, and she had Hoppit, so everything was okay, right?
…But how much longer would everything stay okay? How much longer until her efforts weren’t enough, and she was left desperately reaching for fading memories of what once was? How much longer until she killed her baby too?
How much longer until she was alone again?
Soft footsteps drew near, pulling her from the spiralling thoughts that threatened to gnaw at her soul. Damp, blurry eyes fell on Makis returning with a small wooden crate, the older kobold stopping a few steps away. He dropped the box, a deep, rattling thud produced as it impacted the ground, making Hoppit flinch in her arms. Ceele blinked as she kept him calm, then blinked again, looking up at the man for answers.
“The name, girly,” he spat in irritation. “Ferrorabbit. Ther’ Earth aligned creatures; they need metals. They don’t care where they get it, but they need lots of it. Iron, copper, tin, lead—raw crystal, if they can find it. You name it, they’ll take a chunk out of it. It's why they bother farmers so much; the best soil’s usually top’a gem deposits, ‘n the little bastards have no issue burrowing deep to get it. Dries up the element’s energy ‘n makes the crops weak.”
Ceele’s mouth opened and closed, each unsuccessful attempt to speak making her feel smaller and smaller. More and more lost. Why was he telling her this? How did he know? What was in the—
He kicked the crate with the side of his foot. “Scraps. Don’t’cha look at me like that. I’m a smith, girly. I might be old and retired, but I still work a forge. Now, this ain’t anything pure—it’s just slag and hunks—but I’m sure the critter won’t mind. Your little gardenin’ project pays off, ‘n I’ll see which of my contacts can get in some better ore.”
She ripped her eyes away from the box and met the perpetual scowl of the old kobold, seeing a warmth behind the hostility that she had never noticed before. “…Why?”
He scoffed in amusement, which looked somewhat menacing on such a hardened expression. “Yer a touch stupid, girly, but the missus adores ya, ‘n yer a good worker.” A shadow of a smile formed on his face. “Hira spent more evenings asking ‘bout how the plots are doin’ than I got time in the day. She’d bite my head off if I noticed a critter like that sufferin’ and didn’t lend a hand. ‘Specially when it’s obvious you ain’t tryin’ ta hurt the thing.”
“B-but the garden… Isn’t he a problem?”
Makis rolled his eyes, turning with a dismissive wave of his hand. “If he was, he’da killed it by now. I’d say he’s been keepin’ the others clear ‘n got scratched up for the trouble. That’s more reason to feed ‘em right in my eyes; pay the poor bastard his dues.” He paused after a few steps, shooting her one last incredulous glance. “‘N the rabbit’s right. You’re not much better off than he is. Eat. Before the missus takes my head, preferably. I ain’t need ta hear her worryin’ over you more than I already do.”
And with that, he walked off back to the house, leaving Ceele to sit stunned on the ground with Hoppit quietly nuzzling into her.
“Hoppit…?”
The ferrorabbit perked an ear and gently licked her collar. Fresh tears ran rivulets down her face, yet they didn’t weigh her down. They felt freeing. She adjusted her hold on the rabbit and held him out, taking in the small cuts and numerous other injuries she had never noticed before. He stared back at her with worried eyes.
“You’ve been busy, huh?” she cooed quietly, doing her best to keep her voice from cracking. He shrunk in her hands. “I told you to stay home, baby. What if something happened to you? I wouldn’t know where you went, and…”
Her protests died out as she saw what was unmistakably guilt on his little face. She brought him back to her chest and cleared her throat.
“It’s alright, Hoppit. If… If you want to help momma, then we can work together, okay? Just…please don’t go off getting hurt… I don’t know what I’d do without you…” The rabbit didn’t reply, and she was pretty sure she had never heard him make any sounds that weren’t his happy little ear clacks, but she chose to interpret the nuzzling as an agreement. “Such a smart boy…”
She took a breath and wiped off the excess moisture from her cheeks, setting Hoppit down on the ground. “Let’s bring Mr. Makis’ gift in, and then I need to go get more water so we can clean you up, okay?”
He bounced his way to the door of their home, waiting patiently for her to lug the surprisingly heavy crate into the shed. He was even still behaving himself by the time she returned from picking up the things she dropped in her haste. There wasn’t a single protest from the ferrorabbit as she washed over his wounds with warm water, nor when she asked him to wait as she cut up a small salad for him using an extra portion of her rationed vegetables. Finally, once everything else was gone, she tentatively sifted through the box until she found a chunk of something that didn’t look so sharp, then offered it to Hoppit skeptically.
As startling as it was to see him bite through metal without issue, she couldn’t help but tear up again at how pleased he looked with the bizarre addition to his diet. He munched through the first piece, then stared at the box while pawing at the air, asking for more. She obliged through wet laughs, feeling lighter than she had since he first gazed at her from his burrow, alone and afraid, just like she was.
Her little baby was happy, and that made it okay.
Next
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A/N: Thank you to my Patrons, new and returning! No Thanks, Emmanuel, and Megathor join the others who get to read 1 chap ahead!

I saw someone post here how she sent that photo of herself with the poison ivy rash to her dad that he almost cancelled their overseas trip just because of her rash…….. I’m 28 and married and I don’t even tell my parents about my health condition (unless fatal or I’m being hospitalised)
R u effing kidding me 🤣🤣🤣🤣 this “woman” is married, a husband to “take care of her” as she always brags, but needs to run to her daddy for help. Wtf is he going to do June, rub the cream on your body 😵‍💫?? Velcro you to your dr appointment ???? Ugh
She will NOT let go of her own parents and she’s doing the same to her kids.
Grow up June and live your own life and leave your parents alone 😂😂😂

Don’t worry, this will be the first and last message you’ll ever receive from me in the aftermath of our breakup. Not that you care, or ever really cared, of course.
I’ve had to swallow so much poison during the last quarter of our fledging relationship. Your lies that you told me, under the guise of being “nice”, were anything but. You can tell yourself over and over again that the way you treated me was righteous. But there is no dignity in calling anyone—but namely, a girl that you claim to care about relationship or friendship—“embarrassing” or bashing her for her race being different from you, which is why you approached her in the first place. Nor is it ok to feign liking her and starting a relationship with her just so you can fulfill some sick, twisted bucket list. It is even less OK that you took her virginity and devalued her soon after the months long process of readily assuring her and promising her that everything was real, safe and secure.
You have shown no remorse in the collapse of our relationship. You lied to me. You said you were sorry, you said you cared, you said you wouldn’t lie after the first time we dissolved our relationship. And after time had passed and you begged me to try and understand where you were coming from because you’d been hurt by girls in the past because they “couldn’t understand” you, but I was “different” because I “made” you “feel loved for the first time in many, many years”… you liked me for what I made you feel, not for me as a person. You sucked the joy I gave you out of my body and pumped me with venom.
You willingly chose deception and dishonesty over trying to keep me in your life. No matter what I did to try and keep holding on. You manipulated, you gaslit and you said “I remembered too much” and that I should learn to “let things go” but how do I let go such significant battle scars in a war I didn’t know I signed up for?
The only thing keeping me going is that I know for a fact, no matter what you try and make yourself incorrectly believe, that I did nothing wrong but try to love you. Even when you wronged me, I tried to understand and show you patience and love you. Even now, as the heartbreak has subsided … it’s been nearly half a year, and the anger remains, I still care about you as person. But now you’re just a ghost.
I’ve been too nice to you. Allowing you to keep our relationship a secret, shame on me for not knowing better until it was too late. You blame it on our interracial cultural differences, I blame it on deception and cowardice. It makes me so sad and sick to my core that you used my body and my heart as an experiment. I’m mad you stepped away from our relationship immediately to someone who was more “societally” appropriate.
I’ve been treated many ways by mean people. But never in the way you treated me. You’ve been hurt before in your past relationships, you claimed unfairly, and now you’ve passed down that trauma to me.
There’s no need for me to rehash everything in our relationship. You know exactly what you did. I can never forgive these bruises you left on me. Was it worth it? Was the rush of me worth the price of your cruelty in the end? You had to kill me, but I hope it killed you just the same.
I will get my heart back on the mend again. But you will never know what it’s like to fully love anyone. And that brings me some comfort at night. And maybe for the rest of my life.

Hi I (31F) need help with narrowing what is infection i might have. For the last week i had strong rhinitis with clear mucus. Meanwhile my colleague was scratchy voice(not sure if it´s called this way in english too) since thuesday, saying, that she just got her vocal cords irritated by icy drink. I believed her and we worked together for the rest of the week. On friday, she finnaly got some pastilles for that, but on that day i started to feel sore throat. In the evening, it was already so bad i could barelly swollow without tears(but still able to swallow, no obstruction). That went trough while night. Yesterday it got a bit calmer, but my rhinitis got stronger, producing green mucus(hard to describe, but it smells the way bitter pea taste). I heafeel bubbly noise while blowing my nose. Ears don´t hurt, just feel weird. Temperature 37,8°C, which is weird, since i usually don´t suffer from higher temperatures. Joints, but not muscle, pain. Also, for some reason, slight pain in kidney area. Tonsils are not swollen(at least from the outside). Mild to medium headache. Nausea without vomiting. Today woke up with dry cough. Everything remains the same. Rhinitic treated with Sinupret acut and camomile tea.
Non-acute health problems: Non alergic asthma(treated with inhalation corticoids) and Selective immunoglobulin A deficiency.
Does anyone know what it could be? I´m planning to call my doctor, but don´t want to go visit her, since i don´t really wanna travel 1,5 hour to city while knowing, that she doen´t like to do any other test than looking into my throat and hearing lungs.(yep, no blood or microbiology testing, unless it´s serious) I was thinking haemophilus influenzae, but will be happy for any advice. Anything that makes her not give me just another broad spectrum antibiotics.
Picture of throat from this morning here.

Hi I (31F) need help with narrowing what is infection i might have. For the last week i had strong rhinitis with clear mucus. Meanwhile my colleague was scratchy voice(not sure if it´s called this way in english too) since thuesday, saying, that she just got her vocal cords irritated by icy drink. I believed her and we worked together for the rest of the week. On friday, she finnaly got some pastilles for that, but on that day i started to feel sore throat. In the evening, it was already so bad i could barelly swollow without tears(but still able to swallow, no obstruction). That went trough while night. Yesterday it got a bit calmer, but my rhinitis got stronger, producing green mucus(hard to describe, but it smells the way bitter pea taste). I heafeel bubbly noise while blowing my nose. Ears don´t hurt, just feel weird. Temperature 37,8°C, which is weird, since i usually don´t suffer from higher temperatures. Joints, but not muscle, pain. Also, for some reason, slight pain in kidney area. Tonsils are not swollen(at least from the outside). Mild to medium headache. Nausea without vomiting. Today woke up with dry cough. Everything remains the same. Rhinitic treated with Sinupret acut and camomile tea.
Non-acute health problems: Non alergic asthma(treated with inhalation corticoids) and Selective immunoglobulin A deficiency.
Does anyone know what it could be? I´m planning to call my doctor, but don´t want to go visit her, since i don´t really wanna travel 1,5 hour to city while knowing, that she doen´t like to do any other test than looking into my throat and hearing lungs.(yep, no blood or microbiology testing, unless it´s serious) I was thinking haemophilus influenzae, but will be happy for any advice. Anything that makes her not give me just another broad spectrum antibiotics.
Adding ptoho of the throat from this morning.
https://preview.redd.it/tp0tk1lsah5d1.jpg?width=4080&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=fe9f26cf43b18085249958af969b32bd66358038

You always do that. You ask a question and then back away, like someone who has touched a hot flame. I don’t know what you are afraid of? The answer? The truth? Me? It makes me sad, I try to hold space for you, your words. I know I’m not perfect. Sometimes I can listen for hours, other times I’m distracted, but I so desperately want to be engulfed in your presence. I am but a humble moth, drawn to flame. So, when I have in writing you clearly asking me, were some of them about you, yeah. They were. I poured every ounce of my Borderline Personality heart here once long ago . I’ve come so far in my journey, but no matter how much I regulate I will always ALWAYS feel every emotion as if I’m feeling it for the first time. Crisp and running fast like a river straight from the melted ice on the mountains. Beautiful, and dangerous. I flew so close to you, it felt like flying into the sun, but even then, the part of me that’s not a child screaming to be known, was an adult. And I decided to try to regulate and cope. I’ve talked for hours with my therapist about you, she gently tip toes around the fact that you treat me so much better than anyone ever has, that I feel so secure and happy…that I love someone who loves me in way I deserve. Regardless of whether the label is romantic or not. I can make anything romantic if I wanted to, I can’t make you love me like that of course I have no want to make you love me like that , but to get lost in the day dream of what could have been? That is a personal poison I used to feed on. The day dreams of what ifs. I didn’t want to find you in my mind. I wanted to find you in my waking life. In the other side of my delusions, pains, on the other side of the nightmare that was and is my life in some ways. Being with you was stepping outside of my life. I felt like a completely different person. I felt like an independent individual capable of being so much more than I was. It’s why I can never be suicidal again. The gift you gave me, is one I can never squander. You saved me. You helped me so so much. The love I have for you is burning but not because of secret wants or desires or longing for a relationship, but because I love you. Whatever you is or will be. I know you aren’t fond of people who say they will be there forever or not, but you were right about one thing. The only way I won’t be, is because se I would be dead. I have never lied when I have told someone that, I stayed and stayed until the friendship was over, they didn’t want me, or time grew apart, but I was never the one that ended it or let the flame die. You will always be in my heart, always a foot in the door. I love you because you saw me. You held my soul with grace and humanity. Something I have craved more than romantic love all my life. I was weak and broken, beaten by time and myself. And you treated me like a friend, a human being, you were kind to all of my quirks. I cry sometimes that you were the friend as a child I so desperately wanted. I cry that my younger self did not know this kind of love. I love you in a way that is deeper than I can explain, for it is a different kind of love than any I’ve known. It is kind, it is gentle it is one that is based in the love of humanity and knowing someone to just know someone . With out want or greed. It inspires me moves me, heals me. Thank you. Thank you from the spirit that lives inside of me, that even if one day I am gone, you will know when my spirit has visited. When you look around you and notice the small intricacies of the earth, when the blade of grass so simple yet green catches your eyes. When the color burns in vivid beauty the retinas of your eyes. When the butterfly lands upon your nose and gives you a gentle kiss. You will know me, as you do now, even when I am gone. Whew. That’s a lot of emotion. I think I got it all out :) night goober.

(burner account) I'm furious about this. My best friend of almost 6 years was helping clear out a yard last week, and encountered something that caused an ongoing as of today allergic reaction, similar to that of poison ivy. There isn't any poison ivy in the yard though, which leads to the fact that they don't know what's causing the reaction. They think they do, but there were other plants nearby, so it could have been anything.
The biggest problem is that they REFUSE to take her to the doctor, despite the fact that she's been taking 3 benadryl a day and applying hydrocortisone cream for a week.
This isn't a new behavior, either. A few months ago she fell and an old injury in her knee flared up, and they once again REFUSED to take her to the doctor, and the effects of this are likely going to cause lifelong complications. I really don't know what they get out of neglecting their child.
An additional problem is that her mother WORKS FOR THE STATE which means that they HAVE INSURANCE. She(mom) always has this mentality that my friend is helpless, and I think she may be trying to force her to be that way.
I really... I just don't know what to do. I feel like I should tell somebody, but I don't really have a trusted adult at school that I could task with handling this information without my friend being caught in the crossfire. I want her to not suffer for one day in her life, but it feels like that's impossible.
I want to see her happy. The world seems to not let her be that way. It's unfair.

Hey cool life hack if you like La Mer like I do. I was working outside pulling poison ivy out by the roots and I must’ve touched it. Well I know I did a few times, but I washed really well afterwards. Anyway, flash forward to a few hours later and I have an intensely itchy patch on my ribs. I’m in the bathroom wondering, what can I put on this itchy rash. My eyes land on La Mer Treatment Lotion. Why not right? It took the itch away! I kid you not. Who knew? I do like it on my face too, it’s got such lovely light emollients

I am not The OOP, OOP is u/ThatLastBiUnicorn
Aita for not giving my bf a threesome
Originally posted to AITAH
Thanks to u/soayherder for suggesting this BoRU
TRIGGER WARNING: verbal abuse, manipulation, poisoning, physical abuse, religious abuse
Original Post May 31, 2024
This is a throwaway because too much identifying info is on my main.
I F29 met my boyfriend "Michael" M35 at a show I performed in (I am a theatre person as a hobby) and he complimented my performance and bought me a drink. We have been together now for a little over a year.
His sister got married last week and I was initially pleased to asked to be a bridesmaid but also a bit surprised as she barely knows me but I thought this was an attempt to have an excuse to also get to know each other better.
Michael and I got into an argument the week before because he said that he wanted to entertain the thought of spicing up our sex life and having a threesome. He said since I was bi, why not? I didn't like the idea too much and said so and it devolved into a petty cold war and he started to ignore my messages after he left my place. He didn't reply to me at all until the day before the wedding asking what time he needed to pick me up since we can't go swperate otherwise "people will gossip" about us. He barely said anything to me the whole time we traveled to the venue. The wedding was fine, but at the reception he got me a plate and leaned in to kiss me but I shied away and he got up to mingle.
I started feeling ill not too long after and 911 wad called. I realized I was having an allergic reaction but had my pen but still had to be carted off by the ambulance and that's when someone eho was looking for Michael said that he had left with some of the other groomsmen to a bar nearby. I called 6 times and texted that it was an emergency as I was getting checked put by the paramedics and again when they strongly suggested I go to the hospital but he never replied.
I was released hy the hospital and called him to ask him to pick me up but he didn't pick up so I woke up my best friend and she took me home and stayed with me overnight to make sure I was okay. The next morning Michael called me but I was still asleep so he left me a lengthy voicemail yelling at me that I ruined his sister's wedding and that I always have to make things about me. He came over to further berate me and told me he should just break up with me at this point as I am dramatic and this is "all too much" so I pointed out that he had gotten my plate, knew full well that I have a alegit allergy to coconut and that his sister had told me afterwards that he knew that the cake he gave me was the coconut cream cake as all the food had signs saying what it was and what the ingredients were as I am not the only person with allergies that attended. He left telling me that he can't talk to me when I am this way.
I was honestly exhausted so I didn't bother going after him. But his father called me to ask how I was doing and after I answered he then told me how I am hurting Michael's heart by blaming him and Michael has been inconsolable since we fought.
I texted Michael to ask if we could talk but the conversation went back around somehow to the threesome and how I don't respect him even in intimate settings or want to hear him out regarding his needs and make things about me.
I am so confused because to me this feels manipulative but I respect his father so much (I go to their church and he is a pastor there) so to have him tell me I am in the wrong threw me. Aitah?
Edit: a lot of comments are suggesting that this was intentional and I have actually never considered he gave me something I am allergic on purpose and certainly not to use against me to leverage in our argument. But I think I may have to come clean and talk to his parents. I know them well so hopefully it won't go too badly.
Small update: Michael texted me this morning to apologize. He said the wedding was stressing him out and he had a lot on his mind so he accidently handed me the plate he meant for himself, not the one for me. He said he didn't know I was in the hospital and feels bad he wasn't there for me but he left the reception with some of the groomsmen to blow of much needed steam. I don't know how I feel about it all so I just replied "okay" he is now asking to come over and talk this out in person.
2nd edit: For any and all of you calling me stupid or implying I am a child and "why am I still with this guy" etc. Just know, you remind me a lot of him in how he used to put me down and bully me ands it's a real wonder of mine if you treat people in your life like he did me. I suspect you do. Glad to be rid of him and indifferent about you.
RELEVANT COMMENTS
OhSheAimsToMisbehave

Op be honest - have you, now that you are looking back, seen red flags like this? This behavior likely didn't just show up. Have you ever gotten ill after a disagreement with him?

OOP

Oddly enough I am sitting with my BFF and she asked me the same question and yes, actually.
Our first real argument that I can remember I was down with a stomach bug for almost a week and he visited me and made soup.
Then the only BIG argument I can recall outside this one, he wanted to use labels really soon onto us going on some dates and I didn't and the next morning, I was sick with chest pains and stomach cramps.
I don't want to sounds dramatic or accusatory but since people have commented he might have purposefully given me something I am allergic to, I just don't know anymore.

~
RiskBig3301

NTA - the two of you are completely incompatible. He wants threesomes…you want to attend wedding receptions without leaving in an ambulance.

OOP

Okay, when I read this I was with bestie and we've been drinking and the scream I scrumpted laughing so hard nearly killed me more effectively than the coconut lmao

Update - I Am No Longer Welcome at Church June 1, 2024
Well many of you were right I should not have met him in person but I did. He took me out to lunch insisting he pay for it all and it was incredibly over the top. He had flowers and a written letter of apology but as some of you messaged me his apologies dodged the point by way of "if I hurt you" or "that you're feeling x or y feeling" etc. He quoted some scriptures and said he has repented as his carelessness caused me harm.
I wasn't much moved by any of it until he said how much his family loves me and how much our church roots for us as a couple and I kinda sat back and realized that one flimsy reason I was even entertaining forgiving him and staying was because of the pressure I dealt with as the GF of a pastors son. It occurred to me that there were so many times I let things slide because he is the heir apparent so he had the power in the social aspect of our community.
Sorry I know I am rambling but I'm emotional and tipsy.
I remembering just staring at him and saying it was incredibly alarming that by now he can't be aware of my oe Ingle allergy and that he didn't bother to tell his own GF he was stepping out with the guys or even that he was stepping out of his own sisters wedding at all. He then said it was really actually kind of stupid of me to eat a cake that had coconut and implied I am an idiot for not realizing what I had was coconut. I realized then he would never accept that he was in the wrong and thus there was no point.
I stood up and and smiled and said "You know what, don't worry about it. Thanks for dinner. Goodnight." To which he replied that if I wasn't going to grow up and accept his apology I am a waste of his time. He uses that a lot whenever we disagree and it usually hurts me deeply but this time it was like a roladex of memories flooded my brain and I really suspect he's been deliberately making me sick whenever we disagree to teach me a lesson. I said I was done and he needn't waste his time with me from this point on and left. I then sent screenshots to his father explaining the situation as best I can without blaming Michael for prior illnesses without proof and I got a text about 20 minutes ago from his father.
His father is "incredibly dissppinted" in my immaturity and hurt that I wouldn't even give it until Sunday at church where we can pray together, talk it our and heal. I felt this way for a while but I was able to say it this time that using religion as a took of guilt is low and I am no longer concerned with his version of God as that version is a judgemental, cruel, and heartless jerk while the one I always thought of was loving, compassionate, and kind, and I am done. I was told by him and by further emails rolling in that I am no longer welcome at my church until I reconcile with my "true husband" and learn compassion and respect for my leaders.
So I guess that's it. I will enjoy sleeping in tomorrow and eating coconut free food, while lazing about my home rather than going to three sperate church services starting at 8am and then figure it all out from there.
I don't know how to sign off but I do watch a concerning amount of Charlotte Dobre videos and she usually ends things with practical shit like "do your laundry" or something so I will just say - live for yourself, feed your soul, and know you are enough. I certainly am going to put in the work to get there and I hope we all make it to the other side contented, and filled with love and joy.
And by the way, F you Michael. I know you are reading this. I know you know it's me. And I hope your socks are always just a little soggy. 🫶
OOP Added in the comments
Here
I forgot to add to my post but I didn't want to bring the threesome requests into it...
...well I sent his daddy screenshots of some texts. If you'd like some drama here are the top two:
1) it was a night I sent him home after he tried and failed to pressure into sex. He sent me that I was missing out and should be grateful since "your body makes me sick, but my love for you is stronger. Would it kill you to be grateful enough to just do a HJ?"
And
2) on his birthday, I had just been in the hospital after passing out from exhaustion and dehydration and went straight to his party. I stayed at his until everyone left and I left soon after helping clean all but the kitchen and he sent "You could have cleaned the kitchen." Then "or stayed over [for sex]." Then "you're a waste of time if I don't even get birthday sex. Thanks a lot."
And after both be suggested adding a 3rd. His dad hasn't responded.
RELEVANT COMMENTS
Still_Actuator_8316

Holy crap. And you stayed with him. You poor girl. No one deserves someone like that in there life.
But you didn't say if you told his dad about him sending you to the hospital and potentially killing you. Becuase we both know and the rest of reddit knows that he did that intentionally.
And if there was proof of him giving you that cake. You could probley send his happy ass to jail.

OOP

I didn't and don't have the best self esteem. And here as the only black woman in the town that I've known of, I've always known that I am considered less desirable- not saying that's right - but just knowing where I live. Been here since my preteen years. When Michael asked me out it was like a parade. Everyone acted like it was a Cinderella story and I won a lottery or something. I have a friend who I ha e been texting today and she is letting me know how dumb I've been (I never told her of our issues) and is about ready to commit crimes lol
I think I lost myself for a bit but I wanted to leave the church low-key for a while because of my treatment so that helps a bit

THIS IS A REPOST SUB - I AM NOT THE OOP
DO NOT CONTACT THE OOP's OR COMMENT ON LINKED POSTS, REMEMBER - RULE 7

What's up guys, its Big_Orchid here on my other reddit account. Here's my whole regimen and some notes to help you all out!
Organic Herbs (Everything taken in the morning and at night)

• Wild whole cloves, not dried
• Green Walnut Hull
• Prickly ash bark
• Slipper elm inner bark
• Greater Burdock Root
• Dandelion Root
• Cat's claw (twice a day)
• Plantain leaf
• Wormwood
• Mary Ruth’s Organic Mushroom Complex
• Olive Leaf Extract
• Colloidal Silver
• Oregano oil (rub 2 drops on your spine also) Since it is very potent, use it for 14 days, then take a break for 14 days to avoid damaging the liver.
• 3% Food Grade Hydrogen Peroxide (used for cleaning fruits)
• Cilantro (yes it’s a vegetable but it is a natural chlorophyll building plant that pulls metals and toxins out of the body. Can just put some in your teas)

Organic Raw Fruits

• Pears
  
• Red/Purple grapes with seeds are most powerful, seedless or green grapes is acceptable
  
• Mangos
  
• Oranges (no orange juice unless squeezed yourself)
  
• Pineapple
  
• Berries
  
• Watermelon
  
• Raw/Unfiltered/unheated honey
  
• Raw Apple Cider Vinegar (has antifungal properties)
  
• No L-Arginine fruits, only L-Lysine fruits (only recommend the fruits above)
  
• Wash the fruits in a bowl of distilled water and some food-grade hydrogen peroxide
  

IGG Bloodwork

• Should get western blot test if you can
• Below 0.90 is negative
• If you are between a 2.0-10.1 then you need a 10+ week detox
• If you are 10.0+ then you need a 14+ week detox

Notes

• Once you come out negative, you must still stay on the protocol for at LEAST 1 more month to ensure you are healed, then get tested again for reassurance. Stay on the fruits and herbs!
• Use Food Grade hydrogen peroxide and distilled water to wash your fruits
• Herpes is not a virus. It is a parasitic that comes with a viral load. Always keep that in mind.
• Hydrogen water is beneficial, since it oxygenates the body. You can buy a nice one on Amazon for like $80 and you should only put spring water in it.
• Sea moss is actually bad for herpes, it does not help unless its purple sea moss but sea moss overall is not needed
• Greens slow down the herpes healing process, just stick to only l-lysine fruits. Only if the greens are juiced, then they are accepted.
• Hemp seeds and nuts slows down the healing process
• Yahki Awakened has a $400 parasite cleanse bundle with most of the herbs you need. Not sure if it's 2 months worth, but probably only 1 month's worth. Does not say on website
• Stay disciplined. The longer you stay on protocol, the shorter the amount of time it will take to cure yourself. No cheating. No caffeine, sugar, alcohol, processed foods, vegetables, no jacking off, nothing. Stay true to yourself.
• Everyday things are very important also…. For example the clothes you wear should be 100% organic cotton or linen (at least your underwear, socks, and shirts). Your toothpaste should be organic and no fluoride. Your soap/shampoo/lotion should be organic. Your toothbrush should be made out of bamboo. Your toilet paper should be bamboo and BPA free/Bleach free. Your everyday cleaning supplies should be organic oils. Laundry detergent should be organic. Drink out of glass not plastic. You should have a showerhead filter so you’re not showering in warm chemical tap water which your skin absorbs, believe it or not. You see how deep this goes? Everything nowadays is poison and affecting you and you don't even know it….
• If you live somewhere where you can do ozone therapy, by ALL MEANS do it. In general, ozone is introduced to the body either through intravenous infusion, ozone sauna, direct injection into specific body areas or via inhalation. It can also be delivered as a topical cream or gel applied directly to the skin. I think the ozone sauna is the best option.
• Do not drink store-bought fruit juices even if they’re organic. They are pasteurized and all it is is sugar and water now. You must juice the fruits yourself or find something that's “raw cold pressed juice.”
• Stay away from bleach, super super toxic. Just like I said too, make sure all your cleaning products are organic essential oils.
• Stay away from radiation as much as you can. Some examples would include not living near a 5G cell tower, not using your phone that much, putting your phone on airplane mode if it’s in your pocket, not sleeping near wifi routers, turning off your wifi routers during sleep even, don’t use your laptop on your lap, etc.
• Diseases are not real. All it is, is the body naturally healing itself by creating detoxification symptoms.
• Aqua Panna is the best spring water since it's in glass and contains no contaminants compared to other spring water. It is quite expensive though.
• A good organic all natural multi-purpose cleaner you can make yourself would be concentrated lemon juice, concentrated lime juice, 35% food grade hydrogen peroxide, and some spring water. Or you can do spring water, vinegar, and baking soda.
• A good organic natural deodorant would be just limes or lemons. Squeeze them and then rub them underneath your pits.
• Lymph Node massages are very good to clear you out. Could do them once a week, but it’s expensive, so 1-2 times a month is fine. But if you just go outside and jump up and down on a “rebounder” for 10-20 minutes you can get your lymph nodes moving.

Daily Health Routines

• Getting sunlight for at least 1 hour. Sunlight is very important, it is the source of all energy. Tan your whole body too if possible (meaning fully naked)
• Grounding for 1 hour to reduce inflammation (or just get organic cotton grounding bed sheets for $100)
• Utilize deep Breathing exercises to oxygenate the body
• Meditate each day/night for 15-30 minutes to calm the mind and body
• Say to the universe out loud, “I am cured of herpes” Speaking in the present tense is better than saying “I will” or “I can” because you are re-affirming to the universe that it’s already here, not in the future, because only the PRESENT exists. The past and future do not exist.
• If you are a man, semen retention is required. If you HAVE to ejaculate cause you're mentally weak, then do so once a week MAX.
• Sleep is very important. Should not be going to bed super late and getting at least 8-9 hours of good sleep a night. Optimally going to bed around 10pm-11pm and waking up around 7am-8am is optimal.
• Go on walks alone for 20-30 min. Let your thoughts flow. Listen to some synthwave and realize how blessed you are to be alive and breathing and outside.
• If you workout only go 2-3 times a week and do low weight high reps.

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Season 10 “Days of Fury” - Episode 4 “Aftermath of Lesser Chances”

Talek was not your everyday doctor. Few people would claim to have three different species as parents and somehow make it land true, and honestly few people would use ‘mother’ and ‘father’ to refer to four different people. Still, that gave the harchen both an unusual name and an unusual upbringing.
Talek had done more than just follow on mama Heren’s pawsteps, medical college on Colia was just the start. He served in the First Response Fleet, he saw the worst the galaxy had to offer, he saw more than one world meet its end, he had to operate in conditions even the yotul would break out the word ‘primitive’ for. He thought he would have gotten away from the battlefield finding work on Skalga. Solgalick’s Mercy was proving him wrong.
“Move, move, move” he jumps on the wall to dodge a moving stretcher, scrambling on all fours on it for a few steps before jumping out of it and continuing his sprint towards the admission area.
The admission area was usually an ordered thing, patients would come in and quickly and efficiently be directed to where they needed to go. It was still as ordered as it could be, which wasn’t much. Talek did not have time to look at the patients, he had been directly called for a reason- The screeching deafening everyone was the reason, a tilfish was strapped as well as he could be to a stretcher not fit for his body plan, screaming their lungs out in pain.
Without hesitation, Talek walks up to the gurney and brings his head closer to the tilfish’s thorax as he brings a paw to the side of his visor, the patient’s piercing screams inducing in him a minor headache “Did you give ‘em painkillers?!” he has to yell at a nearby nurse. He’d expected a report on the patient present in his visor’s data, but with this much intake all the information he could expect would come from the lungs of his coworkers.
The tilfish’s accelerated heartbeat could be felt in the vibration of their chest “Already, as much as we could but it doesn’t seem to work” the nurse answers. Talek brings a paw up to the side of his face, commanding again the visor he’s wearing and causing a single warning to come to life in his periphery ‘Busy’ is all it says.
With all of the possible sensor suites present here busy with other patients in triage he proceeds with the only tools he has left, his own self. He puts a paw over the tilfish’s chest, but got no further response. The next was touching their joints, but the screaming neither changes nor ceases. Further up is an attempt at touching their neck, aside from the strains of the screaming he can sense nothing else- But a minor spark of recognition strikes him. Very gently he brings a toe closer to their antennae.
While the tilfish does not respond for a moment, the instant his toe makes contact with the organ the tilfish’s head jerks aside, the scream turning into a gargle for a moment before it stops for a moment- Only for the patient to begin retching “Antennae connective tissue damage, overstimulation” those words are mostly to himself, he then raises a toe to his visor again “Operation room four, sensory deprivation gear, failing that a fucking water bucket will do” he howls over the renewed screams and begins pulling the stretcher.
Carrying the wailing tilfish he and the nurse quickly make their way through the corridors and up the elevator to the second floor, and from there it’s a quick trip to the operation room number four. In a moment his visor has synched up with the operation system, but their first action involves the least advanced object in the room: A green water bucket.
Talek swiftly grabs the bucket and brings it up, dunking the tilfish’s antennae on it. The patient calms down considerably, breathing hard and fast still, and gives them the chance they need to move him safely. As Talek holds the bucket in place the nurse carefully drags the stretcher until it connects with the operation theater, then he brings his face nearby the fluid “Can you hear me?”
The patient has an audible flinch, yet they manage to answer “Y-yes”
“You’ve suffered antennae damage, connective tissue” Talek keeps his voice steady and professional “The only solution is extensive regenerative treatment, it takes months, maybe over a year. But it won’t stop what you’re feeling right now”
“C-can you- Anything? The noise- THE BUZZING- I thought it’d go away-”
“Two choices, either a psychotropic or we cut the connective tissue. One will keep you dazed, similar to predator disease medicine, the other will cut you from your sense of smell and hearing.” This was hardly the worst bargain he had to offer to a patient, Talek couldn’t say they still moved him.
“Can’t- Argh” the tilfish winces again, their arms jerk against the restraint- They gag for a moment “Cut it out, CUT IT OUT” he was beginning to shout again.
It takes some effort to fully sedate the patient, Talek had to let go of the temporary sensory deprivation equipment, and the nurse had to physically restrain one of the tilfish’s arms until he could get an injector on their joint- One of the few vulnerable places unprotected by chitin. From there, it took a few more seconds until they had passed out and the operation could start.
For Talek’s skills it was simple, particularly with access to the hospital’s operating tools. He chose to use his own paws to guide the laser cutter, with the tiny camera set at the emitter as guidance he makes first an initial incision on the chitin protecting the connection, and then using weaker light a quick incision finishing the job the resonant frequencies had begun, fully severing that sensory organ’s connection to the rest of the body’s nervous system.
It takes little more than a few seconds to finish wrapping the exposed section with protective cloth “Take him to a free recovery room, send out a message for admin to book his treatment” the nurse needed no bedside manners, and they’re off as soon as the stretcher is detached from the operating theater.
That very same moment a red warning flashes on his visor, another emergency call, and he begins sprinting again. In the span of time it took for him to get the tilfish treated the corridors outside had become even more busy, there were people being treated for cuts and bruises right on the corridor, nurses were evaluating people and sending them to treatment rooms. Talek knew the distant noises and smell of ash were a simple psychosomatic response of his own body to the situation, unfortunately there were people in more need of aid than him right now.
More than once he had to use the wall climbing technique he’d honed so well to avoid interrupting anyone on the hall, and more than once he took advantage of his small stature to weave between longer sets of legs.
He arrives in time to see a stretcher being pulled in by a takkan nurse, in a trained move the nurse offers his arm to him and Talek hops up to get a better view of the patient. The sight in front of him was… Talek shakes his head, clearing the phantom mangling out of his sight and focusing on the wounded venlil on the stretcher. Orange stained the side of their head, their breathing was slow and ragged but little else could be seen at first glance.
It doesn’t take long for Talek’s visor to start showing more data as they approach one of the treatment rooms, as the sensors in the room spin to life an overlay comes over the venlil showing everything their thick fur was hiding, fractured bones in the leg, two broken ribs and most worryingly: Behind the closed lid of their left eye was nothing.
“Bone splints and foam, sealant gel” he states plainly for the nurse as he jumps off and reaches into the small tool cart. Busy as the hospital had become, not everyone had access to a full surgery suite and it’s not like he needed it right now. The first order of business was dealing with the eye.
First he lowers his head closer to listen to the patient’s breathing, then with care he opens the good eye to look at him and confirm the man’s unconscious state. Once done, he uses the same paw to open the damaged eye to find what is best described as a mushed orange paste in its place. The process of handling that was simple, slowly work to separate the damaged mass that was once an eye with a forceps, lift it and finally carefully snip off the optical nerve. By the time he had finished he just had to offer his paw out for the nurse to hand him the sealant gel, the translucent material used to coat the interior of the empty eyesocket to prevent infection.
As the nurse proceeded to wrap the eye, Talek progressed to the leg. With a quick hand and a shaver he removes the fur around the fracture as he analyzes the overlay from the sensors, he’s working almost on automatic at this point as his next step is to perform an incision on the skin granting him access to the muscle and bone beneath. The process to remove bone fragments is rapid for him, two dozen little fragments of bone that had become lodged in the muscle, and one major leg vein had to be sewn shut with bio-absorbable suture.
The next step was to realign the bone, then inject the bone foam in the fractures so they would heal rapidly. Next, closing the incision and stapling it closed and then slipping the splint around the leg. He stops for half a second staring at the advanced split he’d just slipped into the venlil’s leg, the equipment could adjust itself to the wearer according to set parameters to ensure the leg remained properly positioned until the bones had healed.
He used to have memorized the right parameters to input for a venlil, the system would adjust the rest to the details of the user. But now he had two sets of parameters to choose from, this man was here right now because there was this difference. Talek’s mind is blank for a moment, he had to make a decision right now as first response, and he inputs the old values.
Just focus on keeping them stable, he can fix himself later if wants. Also that’d make the legs uneven, why did you even hesitate?
He steps back from the stretcher “I’ll take him to the recovery ward, take a second doc” the nurse says as they leave. Talek… Would like to say he doesn’t need that second, but he does. He raises his paws up to his face, staring at the orange stains over his pure white scales… He’d grown so used to shifting into a white color to better see anything he’d need to clean that it had become his normal idle coloration.
Another warning on his visor tells him he can’t keep doing this for much longer, so he hurries to the washing station until his scales are white again. He doesn’t need to rush through the corridors this time, however, as the patient was being brought to the very same room he was in a second ago. And this time the warning came with a report, the influx of new victims must be slowing down if triage was finding time for at least a basic report over the system instead of just shouting something.
“Krakotl, female, young, broken bones, torn muscles, wing” he mutters to himself as he walks back to the room. It doesn’t take much longer until the venlil nurse drags the stretcher in, and a final detail about the patient that the report failed to mention: She was wet, completely soaked. Also, she was aware.
Quickly enough the sensor suite in the room was reading his patient, and Talek saw signs of nothing unusual. Or he did not for a fragment of a second, before his mind reminded him that the multiple fractures, torn flesh and lost feathers were supposed to be unusual. He quickly approaches the avian, apprising each wound- The arm had fractured in four places including the shoulder joint, from the damage whatever crushed her bones had proceeded to attempt to remove it by force leading to torn muscles and complete loss of functionality, she was cradling it close to her chest with the other wing. “What happened” he asks bluntly.
“T-the water…” she says, coughing immediately after. “I didn’t think water was so hard, it was like being hit with a car” she winces again, the involuntary shoulder jostling her arm “A-and the shocks…”
At that mention Talek comes closer to inspect the exposed skin of her wing, the water had managed to rip a great deal of feathers and flay her more sensitive skin, and in addition to that there was further markings indicative of electrical burns.
But those are older scars.
The first process Talek goes through is applying a local anesthetic as he explains the procedure about to happen “I will have to reset your bones first and foremost, it should be painless with this anesthetic” he doesn’t wait for confirmation, of course, before injecting the fluid on her wing. After a few seconds of wait for the medicine to work he gently holds the wing and feels along the arm bones until he finds the fractures. Simple and clean breaks, easily put back into position which won’t even need bone foam to heal quickly. No access to wing braces would ordinarily be an issue, however, combining the feather loss and the necessity to use treated bandages for the damaged skin makes using the bandaging as bracing an easy choice.
Then, it was time for the most difficult part, which he needed the stabilized wing for. The shoulder joint had thankfully mostly survived, the bones had their heads slightly damaged and the connective tissue was torn asunder, but nothing the body couldn’t fix in time. The process was easy enough here, first removing the first-aid sealant gel, then applying a small amount of bone foam on the heads of the bones, some regenerative gel to induce faster recovery of the connective tissue of the joint, then readjust the elbow into place and suture it closed.
By the time he’d finished he saw the krakotl hadn’t ceased staring at the process, seemingly unfazed at seeing her arm being stitched together. He takes a moment to look closer, analyzing her eye’s reactions to a small light, ensuring there is no possible cognitive damage. “Take her to the recovery ward” he says calmly.
“Th-thanks doctor” the krakotl says, and then coughs again.
“Just my job” Talek turns to the nurse “Check what she’s being fed, there’s some minor throat damage. She must have inhaled some of the water” he says before finally walking out of the room.
And then, an emergency call pings on Talek’s visor. He’s off through the corridors again, but this time there are fewer legs to weave through, and almost no obstructions on his path. The visor’s augmented reality guides him towards the right room, not like he didn’t already memorize the paths of the hospital. It was an operating room, cleaning up and getting ready took mere moments and soon he had made his way inside to be greeted with a human in the stretcher attached to the operating system.
The staff had already put a tube down his mouth, from the looks of it towards his respiratory system, but it was draining too much blood. By now his visor had synched with the sensors already, but just the peripheral gear wasn’t showing enough data for this, so with a simple paw movement he calls down a sensor arm from the ceiling and brings it closer to the human’s body to examine. The more detailed scan shows signs of blood buildup as well as fluid pressure in the chest cavity, so he quickly tears open the patient’s clothing with a scissor and is welcomed with a pale skin filled with a large blue-black patch.
Talek brings the sensor arm closer, keeping a close eye in the readouts… “Broken rib, punctured heart, pressure. I need a drain” he commands mechanically as he calls down a precision cutter from the ceiling- This time he’ll need to use mechanized assistance. As the staff hurries to bring the additional piece of gear he readies the sharpened cutter by the man’s chest, closes his mouth with certainty and initiates the incision. The pressure of the built up blood causes a small, temporary spray of blood to erupt from the initial incision that manages to stain the left side of his body but he continues nonetheless, opening up the human’s chest cavity and putting in the draining tube to remove the excess blood.
A rib had broken and the fragment had lodged itself in the man’s heart, though the bleeding was profuse the bone itself was doing a decent job at keeping most of the blood from spilling, his heart continued to beat in rhythm. The process was simple, in theory, and in practice as well but the execution would need to be both quick and precise.
First was preparing a manipulator arm to remove the bone piece from the heart, then using three other, slimmer, manipulators holding the edges of the wound he pulls out the bone fragment and commands the smaller manipulators to hold the wound closed. The loss of blood was minimal. The next step required suturing the wound tightly closed and applying an absorbable sealing tissue to prevent further blood loss. Will require followup, but everything that can be done for the wounded heart was done.
Then, the rib required attending. The fracture wasn’t clear, but not unrecoverable. The bone fragment could be re-placed in position, and the addition of bone foam and sealing tissue would ensure the rib would eventually recover, the severed cartilage would need to go unattended for now and might require further treatment.
Finishing the process, then, was to finally close up the skin of the patient and properly suture it, a process made much faster with the usage of the precision tools. Once done, he looks down at the human he’d been operating on, the crimson stains on his white scales, the clearly pained face of the unconscious man whose lungs were being drained of fluid buildup by a tube shoved down his threat.
Talek’s toes twitch, and he steps back from the stretcher so that the staff can move him away to the recovery ward “K-” the man’s voice fights against the tube on his throat “Kichi…” somehow still retaining some consciousness despite his state, but he can’t say anything else before he’s out of the room. But Talek had no reprieve, immediately another cart arrived into the room and was attached to the operation rig, but this one was even more worrisome.
He gives a command for the operation rig to send the current toolset for sterilization and replace them with a new clean set, for the few seconds the process took Talek stares at the new patient before him. The sort of patient every doctor fears, especially those working emergencies: A dossur.
A being so small is infinitely fragile, and dossur are famous among doctors for being a lifeform with only extremes. They could survive things that’d have killed larger people five times over, but anything that could cause them any damage would cause critical, nearly life-ending damage. There was no middle ground with them, and this woman seemed to be teetering towards the critical. Visibly, her outward wounds were her right leg, which had been crushed by some external force, and the right side of her torso had become a single massive bruise. The blood covering her, however, was red. But a sound was what called up Talek’s attention the most: That of her breathing.
He couldn’t use his senses for this and the tool suite had been swapped, so he lowers a scanner arm towards her and begins gathering information. The first thing to notice was that her leg’s bones weren’t broken, but instead completely pulverized beyond recovery, the bruise that was the right side of her body merely indicated whatever happened was pure blunt force as her innards indicated ruptured organs in that area from the impact- But despite all that the most worrisome were her lungs. The sensors’ imaging was showing her lungs working overtime and yet her breathing sounded just plain wrong and as if she wasn’t able to draw in enough breath.
There was no time to keep researching, she needed aid in breathing first and foremost, so Talek carefully uses a mechanized tube pushed through her mouth. Usually for larger people the tube could be manually inserted but for someone so small he decided to use one that had its own powered articulation as well as a micro camera to help with guidance, which had proven to be a wise decision as he could see the damage to her throat in the process.
There were quite a few plants that were mildly poisonous, and of course Talek knew that people of all sorts enjoyed such toxins. It was just a part of being people, some people simply enjoyed consuming irritants, a classic example being capsaicin. But the dosage is always important, and the effects such irritants cause vary between species, dossur in particular could suffer sores in their soft tissue from an excess of capsaicin. He had seen capsaicin poisoning on dossur before, but he had never seen the effects manifest themselves in the respiratory system and as he continued to push the respiratory tube down towards her lungs he saw more and more damage.
Talek had, this paw, finally seen something he had not seen before. This woman had inhaled enough capsaicin to damage her respiratory system- And if enough of it got into her blood flow, she would die. The clock was ticking and all the wounds that had built up on this woman prevented a proper treatment of the other.
“Prepare a dialysis machine, now! Make sure there is a filter for capsaicin!” Talek says to the staff with a mechanical voice.
He flicks his wrists and calls down the entire surgery equipment, sets it to maximum sensitivity and starts- This woman will need an external dialysis until her system has been purged of the literally deadly amount of capsaicin she had inhaled, but she couldn’t be put into a dialysis machine until the ruptured organs were re-stitched so the first order of business was initiating an incision on her torso, the process was quick and had machine-compensated precision.
Next, the damaged organs had to be sutured. There was more than one, the intestine had suffered damage, the bladder had ruptured but not been completely devastated and one of the kidneys was beyond saving, so he begins suturing quickly while one of the staff uses a suction tube to clean the pooling blood and humors. There wasn’t much time to do what was needed, the kidney had to be removed with a laser cutter, the intestine left to find its own position alone and the bladder needed a layer of absorbable cover to prevent a possible leaking. Anything else would have to wait until her blood had been cleansed.
The sutures on her skin were still professional, but they were quick. The next step was getting a good access point to her blood, one entrance and one exit. For the required volume, especially given their size, there were very few places the needles could find purchase- With machine-assisted precision he gently drives a very small, thin needle on the patient’s neck, and a second one on her waist. With the procedure done he steps back “Take her to dialysis, now” the staff detach the operation cart and start to move her away.
Talek stares at the dossur being moved, and without thinking brings a paw up to his visor- He couldn’t. Something in him wanted to know who this person was, something told him there was a story here, but he knew he shouldn’t. They were just victims, if they were anything else for him then he wouldn’t be able to work, if he cared then he wouldn’t be able to treat them well. He brings his paw away from his visor, and stares at it.
White scales stained red and green, sharp claws on the tip of terrifying digits. They’re no different from pieces of meat.
Talek shakes his head hard, then brings his paw to the side of his visor, summoning up the identification of the patient just as they’re about to bring the dossur out of the door. He stares at the nametag by her, ‘Kichi’ it says, and soon she vanishes past the door.
He continues to stare at the door as his breathing speeds up. But that process is short-circuited as another emergency signal is reported, he inhales a sharp breath and heads to the cleaning room as he commands the operating tools to cycle again.
By the time he had returned there was a new patient waiting, this one was a venlil with silver fur. No obvious external injuries, but his breathing was clearly troubled. “They got stickyfoam on their face” it was a human nurse that had brought them in “Sticky substance that turns solid, needs a special solvent.” The nurse holds a small canister out “First aid got him mostly breathing without need of a tracheostomy, but just barely”
Talek nods, once again calling down the surgical tools. The patient was quite clearly sedated, a necessity as he’d be panicking from the lack of breath. Talek took a second to recognize how often he had to operate on the airways of people this paw; it seems that whatever they were doing in the chaos outside aimed only at the most fragile parts of bodies, every wound had been failures of the most sensitive systems of the body.
This time the first step was unusual, the nurse needed to rig the solvent into the surgical tools. While the set of instruments at the tip of the tube meant to enter the patient included a spray for medicinal compounds it wasn’t made to normally utilize ad-hoc materials, but the nurse was inventive and jury-rigged a solution by replacing one of the anesthetic canisters with the the solvent, it suffered from a loss of pressure and that particular operating arm would need a complete maintenance cycle afterwards, but it worked.
Then, he began guiding the articulated tube down the venlil’s mouth. The process was slow, he needed to first spray the green mass that had solidified in many parts, from the roof of the mouth to the between teeth and under the tongue, before using the forceps and scissor tools to remove pieces that would be sucked out from the cavity by the suction tool.
Clearing the mouth was easy, and merely practice for the process later in more fragile parts. He then proceeded to guide the tube down the throat, he could see a small passage for air, but the blockage was easily ninety percent of the space of the throat. The process to soften, cut and remove the green mass continued to be slow and careful, though the position of the patient precluded any from falling further down the throat.
Some pieces did not let go with ease as regardless of how much care he had a few had reacted with the mucous of the throat, becoming firmly attached and eventually causing a wound when removed. Those were quickly treated with some superficial sealant gel and should lead to no more than discomfort when breathing and eating for a while.
When the process was completed, he finally slowly removes the tube from the patient’s mouth and waits. Slowly, he can hear the man’s breathing become fuller and less ragged. “I think this is the last serious case we got, doctor” the nurse looks down at him “Don’t know how you do it”
“I don’t either” Talek sighs with emotion “Get him to the recovery ward” he says, following him out of the room as he carries the stretcher. However, as they exit the operation room there is a venlil waiting out there, her silvery fur is of a different shade than that of the patient, she’s dressed in a strange set of black plates indicating she was probably one of the ones on the side of the law outside “Yes?” he says, with his professional tone.
“I… I just wanted to know how he’s doing…”
“Family?”
“N-no… No. It’s just- I… I caused that, and I need to know if he’s alright”
Talek shakes his head slightly, causing the venlil’s ears to fold back “Nothing long-term, the first response was fast enough to prevent any damage by hypoxia and cleaning up that substance wasn’t difficult. Please avoid doing the same again in the future”
“Y-yes… Yes… Thank you”
Talek waves dismissively at the officer before continuing to head out. He finds the corridors to be a lot more orderly now, how long had passed since this all began? He’d lost track. He passes by the admission area, finding it still full but no life-threatening wounds.
Then he walks outside, looking to the sides of the street. Behind him, Solgalick’s Mercy stood tall and unbroken, every other building around it a pile of rubble the buildings around surprisingly unblemished despite the damaged cars, upturned trashcans and copses littering the street. Off in the distance the city hall exterminator’s building was still blazing.
I wonder… When will I ever leave Lithan’s Orchard? Half the galaxy was not far enough to leave… Maybe I just have to accept I never will.
Once again he shakes his head to clear his thoughts, turns around, and heads back inside.
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It is a misnomer to call them non-lethal, because the living body is a fragile thing, and even the gentlest touch can wreck havok on it's balance. And yet, at times, you must be firm, and harmful.
But even the least chances are nor impossible, and others will have to live with the consequences of your actions.

I’m dating a Christian girl and she found out that I was growing and microdosing my own mushrooms for my depression and I take them as a pre-workout. She was gonna end it because she believes I’ll be doing meth next or snap and kill her or something. I got rid of what I had and i think I’ll be ok without them if I have her. But I just hate how closed minded she is about it, especially as a nurse, cause that field is all about evidence based practice. I was showing her all kinds of reputable studies that suggest psylocybin can be used to treat PTSD, depression, anxiety, and alcohol dependency.
I haven’t taken them for an about a week now and I feel like there’s a chance I could fall back into old habits She makes me SO happy. Idk if I should try and educate her on why it’s not the poison she thinks it is or if I just shouldn’t even bother.
So I’d like to hear what you guys think and where does it fall when it comes to religion?

I (24 F) am still currently living with my parents and youngest brother. I am at home because I am in between jobs, and a student. I have been reluctant to post here because of guilt, but I feel like my parents, specifically my mother have narcissistic tendencies. I just feel confused and lost, and I wanted a second opinion.
The reason I am confused is because it’s not like my parents have not provided a good life for us. I have always been fed, clean and well dressed. I was socialized from a young age, taught basic hygiene, and I have been supported through school and financially by them most of my life. They celebrate my birthday each year, often going all out, and they have reasonable compassion for people and animals… but they can be so cold, selfish, humiliating and even cruel to me when they want to be, especially my mother.
My father I am sure has narcissistic tendencies, but it’s harder to say with my mother? They both had difficult upbringings, and their marriage is dysfunctional to say the least- I believe I have surpassed them both in emotional maturity, and I often feel like I become the family mediator and emotional scapegoat as the eldest daughter.
What I have been thinking about most though is how my mother emotionally abused me growing up, and still does currently. She is passive aggressive, dismissive, condescending, controlling and belittling towards me- and always overly critical, to the point where I dread being around her. She has caused many of my self esteem and insecurity issues. When I confront her for how she treats me, she refuses to take accountability and blames it on me. She has publicly embarrassed me more than once by yelling at and belittling me in front of people over trivial things, scolding me like a child, then turns around and says about someone else that nobody deserves to be treated that way? She is also incredibly argumentative, and won’t let things go until she makes her point and wins the argument.
When I was suicidal as a teenager, she didn’t take it seriously, and was very flippant towards me- on the days I was struggling, she made it worse. I needed her, and I made that clear, but she was emotionally unavailable to me: we even fought about this in public, and when I told her that I needed her, she walked away from me, leaving me in a crowd of strangers looking at me with pity.
Most recently, during an argument where she gave me 24 hours to decide if I wanted to “figure things out with her” or get kicked out of the house (I got my bags and prepared to go to a woman’s shelter, and she interceded me in our stairwell) after she had lashed out at me and I had defended myself, I brought up how she had treated me as a teenager, and essentially her response was, “Well, you should go deal with that, if you’re still suicidal.”
Arguing with her also feels like going in circles.
The worst thing I can remember is when we got into a bad argument, and I walked away from her after grabbing a knife out of a kitchen drawer with the intention to end my life, and she just let me go. She claimed later to have not seen me take the knife, but I believe she did. She often claims to not remember things she said or did during an argument.
The thing that kills me most is how she has walked away from me multiple times while I was struggling, or in distress. I ripped my toe nail off when I was 12 by accident, and I was sitting on the floor bleeding while she was annoyed that it would make her late for work. I had an asthma attack that was triggered by the stress of an argument we had and intense summer heat, and she looked at me struggling to breathe, and walked away from me, going upstairs. Later she said that she, “Didn’t want to stand over me and make it worse.” And she yelled at me from upstairs when I had my head on the kitchen table after taking my inhaler, trying to catch my breath, because I didn’t respond right away to her.
Most recently, I was really struggling to breathe from bad allergies one night, and I was bent over clutching the kitchen sink trying to breathe and coughing. She came up, stared at me coldly, didn’t ask if I was okay, and walked away from me without a word.
I could go on, there is much more, but these are the most notable incidents. I don’t know what to believe.

Was hoping for a clean 100 souls but have 75 instead. Maybe the last 25 can be filled with other DM's/Party's ideas/adventures. I like something unfinished, honestly.
There's some obvious influence/thievery from OSR heavy hitters in here but I've attempted to keep it at a minimum just to inch my way to a clean 75 since 100 is proving troublesome. And honestly I've forgotten where some of these stolen/restructured ideas have come from. Feel free to credit link any so others can know their great works.
(e.g. P. Stuart, D. Selle, Coins and Scrolls, Goblin Punch, Vivien Feasson, S. Princess, Z. Cox/B. Brown, B. Milton, L. Rejec, P. Nilsson)
I doubt all the aforementioned are present in this list but I just wanna cover bases and/or call out incredible minds and effort in the hobby who I've really enjoyed. Call out any unlisted if you please. Credit where credit is due.
Edit: Whoof, formatting again
Edit 2: Cant change some numeration here it seems. Sub-traits are counted as independent entries. Italicized and emboldened sub-traits to help differentiate.
The Stilletto of The Imperator Scum (Trident)
On an (un)natural 20, consume a soul randomly from the table activating its effect, removing it from the table permanently
On a (un)natural 1, the target dies immediately and is resurrected as an undead. Pores on its body explode with rapid growth fungus and it’s health, and spell slots if applicable, are restored to their maximums. Their soul then becomes one with The Stiletto and is added to the table.
Soul of the…:

1. Ardent Giant - +2d6 dmg. to your attacks towards the target. Change the weather to which you desire
2. Befouler - target fucking stinks, if within 15ft Con. Sav 12 every round to keep from vomiting.
3. Gnarled Oak - that target lives the life of a tree in an instant. Witnessing love of child and pet. They see the first kiss of young love with the tip of the blade within their trunk declaring theirs eternal. They bear the burden of parenthood, choked with a child’s swing. The same swing their groom or bride will swing on, in remembrance, decades later. A generation of someones else’s life wears on them in the span of seconds. T
   1. Take 1d4 dmg. from the blade
   2. -2 Wis. as the dog pisses on them (1min duration)
   3. 3d8 dmg. as their branches are cut for a treehouse
   4. They will fall asleep in winter temperatures unable to wake up
   5. As long as their corpse touches soil they will resurrect in unspecified time
   6. If the target is killed within a city (soil or not) they will die sobbing with such penetrating sobbing. Within a mile radius, it lowers all CHA and WIS scores within range by 2 for 24hrs.
4. Devil - the target’s eyes wash with color and your reflection is upside down. They provide you a contract/offer that is too good to pass up. You literally can’t resist it but it’s also a really great deal. Other than the fact that your soul is lost at failure of completion. Unless the killing blow dealt to the Devil is holy damage, they arrive at The Nine Hells to bide their time before they continue their cursed bargains upon the mortal realm.
5. Claviger - The target is compelled to open the nearest door. If not the door, then box/barrel, chest, bag, pocket. Consume their next action. If the object doesn't open, spend each preceding action until it does.
6. Scion of the Slithering Soil - the target embodies the nameless soul of a god-fearing priest of Mi-Shao-Shur. Dedicated fully to Serpentine Ascension by committing acts of gratuitous depravity. They become a beacon for the resurrection of Mi-Shao-Shur by consuming their own flesh, restoring their health to its maximum. Revealing underneath their now-true serpentine forms. Their intelligence increases by 4 and from their mouths can cast the Poison Spray cantrip. The target can now communicate with nearby creatures and convince them to do their bidding.
7. Exploding Toad - target explodes. Dex Sav 13 or take 5d6 fire dmg.
8. Dwarf - target becomes one. Genderless. Immune to all compulsions that play on a desire for sex. No sexual organs. Instead of urinating you excrete waste through sweating, explaining the odor.
9. Tahlia - the target’s soul becomes trapped on the most worthless item on their person that isn’t a weapon or armor. Their body begins to thrash and scream mindlessly. Bodies are full of life and feelings but suffer the penultimate separation anxiety from the soul. The terrified shell will attempt to consume the item worth most to someone nearby with supernatural capacity. If they do so, your item is lost forever and the target becomes whole once more, restoring full health.
10. PorteBasin Filler - Nothing satiates the target’s desire to serve, will seek out more and more challenging tasks for such a talented valet
11. Abhorrer - target is unable to be targeted with any malice. The hate within you boils still but physically you are unable to be anything but be cordial and polite to the target. The creature knows every law and obeys them. It will use the law (if there is any) to destroy you.
12. Cannibal Critic - target is no longer able to communicate in normal language. Of their cursed race the target can only howl bestial war cries of generic criticism. And hastily consume flesh. Successfully answering a question can cause the target to pause and grunt in reflection before screaming another random question.
    1. WHAT’S THE MESSAGE
    2. WHAT DOES IT MEAN
    3. IS IT IRONIC
    4. IS IT KITSCH
    5. DON’T YOU FIND IT PROBLEMATIC
13. Dragonborn - If the dmg. dealt is to a non-dragonborn creature then the creature takes dmg. from their innate breath weapon, held within glands of which no non-dragonborn is prepared. 6d6 acid and poison dmg as their insides boil with draconic bile.
14. Gargoyle - FUCK BIIIIIRRRRRRRRDSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
15. Duergar - roll a d2 to Enlarge/Reduce target. Acquire sensitivity to sunlight regardless.
16. Untermensch - the target’s muscles atrophy and their mind begins to falter as all of their ability scores reduce to 8. If one of their scores is less than 8 it does not rise to 8. Apply a -2 mod. to every dice rolled. The only thing of which they can be relied upon is to either fail or clumsily execute every task.
17. Drow - target adheres to a woman’s word almost unwillingly and acquires sensitivity to sunlight. Incessantly mutters consequence for someone under their breath for whom they despise.
18. Githzerai - target casts Plane Shift unwittingly on self.
19. Bedlam Bird - The target knows when it is being looked at. The target loses all alliances and registers as “Evil” to spells and senses that detect such. It is compelled to commit pranks that are utterly fucked.
20. Wizard - Your weapon moves through the air at your exact command. Gains Antimagic Susceptibility. Lasts 2 min.
21. Azer - The target’s head ignites, it’s skull a torchlight shining bright light in a 15ft radius and dim light for an additional 10ft. It cannot be put out with water. The target takes 1d8 per round for 3 rounds.
22. Banshee - the target casts Wail. All within 30 ft. (including target) Con sav 13 or drop to 0 HP. On a success 3d6 psychic dmg. After the Wail, the target goes mute as their vocal cords are stretched to leather and can only emit a poor whine if exhaustion.
23. Androsphinx - The target’s body explodes and from within erupts a Heroes’ Feast. The depleted carcass turning into a gorgeous royal table spread.
24. Basilisk - Bestowed upon the target is a basilisk’s Petrifying Gaze.
25. Revenant - The target will rise as a Revenant 48 hrs after it’s death for the one who killed it.
26. Cat - The target has to be killed 8 more times.
27. Eigengrau - The target loses all memories from the last 24 hours
28. Zoanthrop - Target strips naked. Immune to all mind altering effects.
29. Wizard Hunter - Do you cast spells? You’re FUCKED.
30. Wild Magic Sorcerer - Roll 3 times on the Wild Magic table. All within 60ft radius are affected by the wild magic emanating from the target
31. Unseen Servant - Target turns invisible. Acts upon every command you give to it flawlessly. Limited only by its ability scores (they don’t change). Loses ability to speak or think for itself. Will not be around whenever you wake up from your next period of sleep.
32. Nabassu - target acquires a soul stealing gaze, anyone to look at the target must make a DC 16 Cha saving throw or reduce its maximum hit points by 13 permanently
33. Giant Squid - the target, upon this successful attack and when panicked or fleeing, squirts copious amounts of ink from their eyes, nose and mouth. Mixed with blood because that’s not supposed to happen, 1d8 dmg. with each use
34. Werewolf - the target shreds their outer layer of skin revealing blood soaked fur underneath, taking the form of a werewolf and using a werewolf’s stats, with their skin they also shed any physical and mental conditions
35. Gazer - the target gains the Gazer’s ability to mimic any simple sounds of speech in any language, with the target’s weak eyes it casts Dazing Ray and Fear Ray on itself and collapses into a depressive slump on the floor, screaming in fear in the last voice it heard, unable to flee
36. Virgin - the target becomes the crucial object in the ritual of the nearest carnal, gluttonous, murderous or heretical cult for their petty god, monster or demon of chosen worship. What will their death summon?
37. Nupperibo - the target acquires an insatiable hunger consuming any organic material within reach and easy enough to chew if no living opponent is within 30 ft. If the target attacks or is attacked by a living mortal then it can track that opponent flawlessly as it hungers for its flesh. Greater meals or death will cause it to leave you alone
38. Phoenix - the target explodes and each creature within 60ft must make a DC20 dex save, taking 4d10 fire damage on a failed save, or half as much on a successful one. The explosion destroys the target's body and leaves behind an egg shaped cinder that weighs 5 pounds. The cinder is lukewarm seeing as the target isn’t an actual phoenix. It is not immune to anything seeing as the target isn’t an actual phoenix. After 1d6 days, it hatches into an infant of whatever race the target was.
39. Oblex - target becomes amorphous if it isn’t already. Unfamiliar with it’s new form the target slumps into a pile of ooze unable to move, eat or breathe.
40. Gauth - the target begins to float into the air uncontrollably. With fewer eyes than the Gauth the target is blessed with only Pushing Ray and Sleep Ray, both of which it casts on itself, as it floats snoring into the clouds
41. Bullywug - the target becomes so repulsive that nature itself will reward you for its demise. If or when the target is killed you are healed to your maximum and your Con. increases by 1. It will be difficult though, because the target can talk to frogs and loves lording their power over you and has absolutely no shame. They immediately give themselves a shitty title that means nothing and will love talking about how every swamp ever is theirs to rule. Oh and they fucking reek, if you get within 10ft you’ll vomit automatically and uncontrollably
42. Hivemind - the target’s spinal cord vibrates and emits pheromones to call any swarming creatures (rats, insects, birds, etc.) nearby into a frenzy causing them to fall into chaotic bloodlust and whomever the target chooses
43. Modron - the target loses all mercy and remorse and will fight for their current objective even putting their own lives at risk. The target becomes immune to mind-affecting, emotion-affecting, and magic that draws upon the Positive Energy or the Negative Energy plane. You could quell its pursuit if something with 4 sides or more was able to give orders for it to stop.
44. Obliviax - you must make a con. save (DC 12) or else the target eats your memory of the last 24hrs and heals for d20+4 health. If you fail, you also lose 1 spell slot if you have one to lose and forget 1 spell randomly, if you know any, each for 24 hours. If you save they still heal as all they have to eat are things that you know but forgot you knew, like that play you really liked that one time
45. Strandvaskaren - the target is infected with the soul of one who drowned at sea but the waters preserved him in the inch worm gap between life and death and they float neither alive nor dead. The target feels heavy, cold, lungs weak, aware but able to move. The pressure of uncharted waters sits heavy on their chest and their strength is reduced by half rounded down.
46. Impartial Anima - the target solely relies on a pair of wolf bone dice (or another pair of dice if those go missing) to tell them how to make decisions. 1-10 is a no or negative response. 11-20 is a yes or positive response.
47. Adventuring Party - the target grows a magnificent mustache as steel armor sprouts from their skin and their hands glow with arcane magicks. Their pockets grow fat with religious symbols as a toddler’s diaper would when it’s stomach is upset. Or when it’s angry. Or even flirty. You sense a celestial presence hover over them as they grip their newly found sword and bow they are obviously skilled at using. You thought you had a fair amount of gold to possibly bribe them with but you realize you walk with a lighter step and at their feet your valuable currency lies in a burlap sack
48. Seraphim - the target knows nothing but their own feelings and nothing worth nothing ever came out of a book. The only true things, now, are feelings. Anyone who attempts to attack it must save or hesitate in it’s presence. The environment around the target begins to convert into things beautiful and pure. Roll d4
49. All metal within 50ft turns to gold
50. The target bleeds from sacred stigmata and the blood turns to rose petals as it falls
51. Grows wings and if already winged they are instead, actually, held aloft by a flock of doves
52. They lose their clothing and double in size as their skin turns alabaster white and they wear only a ribbon
53. Animated Barrel - the target attempts to grapple the nearest opponent and once successful begins to throw itself against walls, down stairs and out windows; enjoying the process. The target takes half damage while the opponent grappled takes double.
54. Panther - the target speaks all languages and becomes evil (if not already), honorable and utterly merciless. Will chat up it’s victims or give them a head start before murdering them.
55. Djinn - the target is imprisoned in the nearest vessel and must do their best to fulfill 3 requests for the one who frees them. They are given no additional power to accomplish this.
56. Barnyard Chimera - the target's head bends backwards horrifically making room for it to grow the heads of a cow, pig and goat. It grows the tails of a goose that spews blinding shit. When killed it splits open, spilling out 3d6 featherless, bloody chickens with red eyes and sharp talons. It runs on malformed horse legs speaking but only repetitious mindless phrases. "How about that weather, huh?" "Well, let's finish up and then have supper." "Aw hell, she's coming out breech."
57. Psychopomp - the target will become a guide/beacon for one of the hostile souls devoured by The Imperator Scum resurrecting it and freeing it from the trident.
58. Bell Dragger - the target is imbued with the soul of a wronged martyr. Their eyes go sickly white and they walk on their hands and knees dragging them to bloody stumps. Solely focused on the path to the afterlife, they will forever crawl until they find it. But Bell Draggers are both the summoners and chariot horses for death’s arrival. She will arrive soon.
59. Watch Lark - the target blooms a random amount of additional eyes all across their face above the nose. They can see through thick foliage and thin walls and all attacks have disadvantage on them as they always see you coming. Disadvantage against being blinded.
60. Remorhaz - the target’s stomach bubbles a heated secretion that spills from their mouth. The heat from both their mouth and body is strong enough to melt any nonmagical metals. 2d20 dmg. for every turn spent within 5ft of them. The bile is useful to alchemists in making heat related magical items. The target also becomes highly resistant to magic.
61. Arolohnso, Petty God of Labyrinths - the target using 3 fingers on each hand encircles themself drawing angular, snaking lines in the soil around them. Creating an elaborate maze of which they are the end. The borders drawn become invisible, impenetrable walls that protect them from all things but protect the target of their wrath from nothing. To reach the target, and make them vulnerable, you must draw a line through their maze solving it.
62. White Lion - the target becomes a Queen/King of a fallen kingdom. No serfs nor servants to pretend to care for them. They’re safer now than they’ve ever been (at least from the dangers of someone else’s hands). Their name and legend and royal blood is all lost to a land that has no gods nor masters any longer. Roll for effect:
63. They take their life as all of their worth was found in their property. Either by claw, royal dagger or casting themselves off a cliff or into the ocean, etc.
64. Their crimes as Queen/King are unforgivable and heirs to the wronged will appear behind the target and murder them in cold blood
65. The conquering challenger to their name/bloodline appears and disembowels them splashing you with their old, freshly-poor blood. They are an unpersuadable antagonist and the target is a pathetic remnants of a now dead kingdom
66. You are the new Queen/King. To a country side, people and riches unknown. When you find your kingdom your blood will lead you to wine and fresh fruit. The throne will be warm for your arrival. The target feels their royal blood leave them and they become desperate to drink it fresh from your veins to maintain their deific right. Their hostility is doubled.
67. The Whisperer - Trees whisper. The noise is low, tectonic, incomprehensible. Dial tone static bleeding through the vines of the deepest holts and groves. Spirits dance and gather around antler crowned gods who rule the brazen forest. Soft sounds bloom to life. Elves who hear this music sing to it wringing melodies from the resonances of the treesong. The target collapses into a sobbing heap. They are being wrung dry (poetically) from the beauty of the woodsong. When you’ve obtained comprehension of such extravagant, egoless harmonies what petty life squabble is worth donating your energy towards? The target cares not for your childish conflict any longer. They are possessed by the inability to remember the words to such an old song. One they recognize but do not remember. You can’t help them. They are no ally but no enemy. Pain cures all curses of the mind, though. Do not fetter them with continuing aggression lest you help them lose their place. If so, their hostility will quadruple.
68. Brave Explorer - the target has a distaste for the beaten path. So much so that it is unable to repeat any action, starting from this effect, becoming more and more unpredictable over time.
69. Leper - the target’s flesh becomes warped and scaly becoming an offense to your gaze. You can barely look upon them without vomiting on yourself. Unwilling to project your bile in any direction less it crosses your gaze once more. The Target gains expertise on stealth checks both active and passive. DC 14 Con save to resist puking at the sight of them. Once you succeed a check, remain immune to their image for 24 hrs.
70. Antithetical Spirit - the target’s emotional attachment for the world and its inhabitants become reversed to their present disposition. Do they hate you? Now they love you. Do they want to kill you? Now they want to fuck you. Do they want to eliminate everything you love and make you watch? Now they will kill everything you love in tribute to your limitless beauty and knowledge. Careful how you treat people.
71. Chadwick - the target is just...un-fucking-bearable to listen to. When they say your name it feels dirty afterwards and you just want to wash your parent’s mouths after the fact. They go on about bird calls as if they don’t have to take a breath to keep going. The target becomes an energy vampire and drains you of any optimism you have for the day and all you want is for this goon to go back to their home to watch the paint dry and not inform you of the oxygen reacting to the resin causing polymerisation of the paint leading to it’s lack of sheen once it’s settled. The rage in you is that equal to a Berserker and you gain the Frenzy trait. But you also suffer the effects of the Slow spell until you save on a Wis DC 15 at the start of your turn or kill the target.
72. Johann Smiff - the target immediately becomes a stranger to you and anyone who can see them. Their face and identity are so familiar and on the tip of your tongue but sooner to become dismissed as deja vu then remembered. They know who they are. But they are a face in the crowd before anything else to you. The one you knew them to be still exists in your mind but it is certainly not the target. The effect will wear off after the next long rest.
73. Bay Dolphin - saltwater, freshwater, the target can breathe in either and requires one or the other to do so at all. The target remains highly intelligent, as dolphins are, and retains it’s motor skills and muscle memory. The target will rush to find itself a suitable environment to be able to breathe once more, as a blowhole begins to peer open upon their scalp, but will be able to do so without panic for several minutes. Once they get into the water their constitution and dexterity both become 20 and they are immune to fear.
74. Atticus Aurelius - the target is imbued with the soul of a famed gladiator from several eras passed. Skilled with any weapon as Atticus was, the target becomes proficient with all physical weapons (improvised or not). Able to command the applause of an audience at the drop of his helmet. If a crowd surrounds you (of any humanoid, undead/constructs or not) the target can command them to boo you and your allies causing you to suffer from the effects of Bane. Or they may cheer the target applying the effects of Bless. No saves. If the audience is unsatisfied at a poor showing or cheating habits their boos and riot will suppress you further applying the effects of Slow. Put on an absolute banger of a show with flourish and skill and their cheers will apply the effects of Haste. No saves.
75. Jäegerjog - the target’s soul becomes the one born to die at your hand. Sewn into the never ending tapestry of time it is their fate to perish by your influence alone. They know it though you may not. They also know everything about you and they have advantage against you in every aspect as you suffer disadvantage in every reflective aspect. They also can’t be killed by anyone but you.
76. Dracolich - the target becomes an unwilling phylactery of an ancient Dracolich. Watch the skies…
77. Rook - the target and all who can see them become one within The Parliament. Each individual is now on trial and must provide a story to be judged by their peers. As the anecdotes unfold more and more blackbirds will arrive and encircle the lot of you to listen in. At the DM’s discretion the one who told the least captivating tale will be pecked to death by the encircling birds, and attacked by any affected N/PC, for 15d10 dmg before they flutter off. No save can be made less you reveal yourself as an outsider and ally yourself with the guilty. (WIS DC 14 for the most rebellious of you). Any shiny trinkets you can throw within the circle will decrease the DC by 1.
78. Nymph - the target becomes a beacon of inequitable beauty. Their form becomes statuesque to each individual who gaze upon them. Their desire to fight dissipates and they become concerned only with judging others for their beauty. Weak in the knees to the target’s newly bestowed sex appeal, you unwillingly confess to them which part of yourself you hate the most. Confused by their Nymph aura, though they are none. Whoever they take pity on most reduces their CHA score by 1. The target then runs away, believing the mere presence of such filthy, struggling adventurers despoils their presence just by being near. The air of death and rot on you is more present than it’s ever been. You cannot help but stay on your knees as you watch them flee. You are free from their hold once they leave your sight.
79. Übermensch - the target can perform any action perfectly with mathematical efficiency. Consider every one of their ability scores and rolls a 20 without the proficiency modifier. The target lacks heart and chaos in their soul from this point forward. They can execute all required of them perfectly. There is no surprise in their execution. They will always perform at maximum potential except in the dealings of art. They can be taught, certainly, but without thorough guidance all of their CHA rolls equate to zero regardless of modifiers.
80. Star-Crossed Lover - a soul torn asunder, the target becomes one half of a harmonious pairing that will bring light and love into this world. A larger piece of the puzzle than you are at this moment. The union of the target and their mysterious lover are victims, but vital players, in a blood feud. Their death(s) will shift the tide in a grand conflict unseen...
81. Woodland Eidolon - the target's eyes become ovaled and protrude subtly from their head as a nervous fawn’s would. Their skin molts and grows fine ivory hairs as they shiver and freeze. Unblinking. Shallow sharp breaths. A spirit of the woods stands before you and you have the span of a blink to claim your kill or else they are lost to legends told around the campfire once more. Their DEX Skill becomes 20 and all DEX checks and saves are criticals made with advantage. They can outrun your magical influence and know when you’re going to act before you do. But….if the stars are aligned and you land the killing blow (any successful attack is a killing blow)...their trophy will bring you gifts of which you only dreamed
82. Antlers - netted in a spider’s web wet with morning dew, the glistening beads and weave act as a dream catcher for the most malicious nightmares protecting you from magical influence as you sleep
83. Pelt - it warms you as a campfire would and as long as you are blanketed by it you are immune to cold and your health regenerates for 4 for every round of combat it’s equipped
84. Horn - left lying in the dirt it is a sign of something terrible and conquering walking the grounds, an obelisk of bone that prevents predators and ambushes alike within a mile radius. But if you are caught carrying it you are seen as a dishonorable scavenger and your name will be besmirched within the wilds. The pheromones from it act as a subtle aphrodisiac amongst humanoids (not including undead/constructs) and you have prof. in CHA checks
85. Scrimshaw - an ivory tusk from a Mother Walvis decorated with a sailor’s tale of his time on the seas. The carvings are half finished leaving most of the tusk bare. All stories have an ending and this sailor’s is now yours to tell. This tusk will bring you a boat when you have none. All you must do is find shore. It will also allow you to hold your breath for up to an hour.
86. Broken Night - the target becomes bored by all they know well. Any extraordinary item they have on their person that they are well acquainted with will equal the value of trash immediately. If they know you well, then their pursuit of you, or risk thereof diminishes entirely. They will respond to threats accordingly but otherwise would prefer something strange and rare to busy themselves. Especially if it is of a teasing nature. If they hold something of interest to you then they are always willing to trade for a more interesting object. Or even a story perhaps.
87. Neogi - A Neogi can smother a weak mind with some ease. The target’s mind becomes weak. Prey for any who have the ambition to use it for their own bidding until the body collapses. The target becomes cowardice prey. If so inclined, you’re welcome to impose your will upon them. Though so can everyone else. The blank-canvas-welcome of their mindscape has too much potential to pass up. Greedy minds can sniff out the glove-fit of their embryonic potential like a shark for blood. Who says no to a soft body that asks for it?

My husband and I got married when we were both 20 years old, we had two children, the boy is currently 13 and the girl is 12, we had a good marriage but due to my mistake we ended up getting divorced because I was unfaithful to my husband with my ex-boyfriend, but that It's another topic.
My ex-husband is a person who does not tolerate infidelity so divorce was imminent, we separated and divided everything 50/50, I moved to an apartment and he kept the house and custody of the children 4 days a week and me the other 3, I was lucky that at that time my children did not have the right to decide which father to stay with because they were very young, since they also found out about the infidelity and the eldest wanted to go with his father and his sister was motivated by him too, that was two years ago.
My ex subsequently got another partner, explained the situation to our children and as far as I know she is a good woman, so I am not worried about the safety of my children, but I am worried about the increasingly aggressive way in which my children treat me.
Until a month ago, even though my children resented me for the infidelity, they were still kind and respectful to me, but recently my son had his first breakup and since then he has not stopped blaming me for what I did, I don't know if it's because of a newly developed empathy for his dad or because his dad has been poisoning his head about me.
I talked to my ex-husband about it and told him that he had to put a stop to this. More than once I have read in stories here that in these cases the father even slapped the son to make him respect his mother, but the reaction of my ex was rather aggressive towards me, he told me that he is not going hit son a bit because of me, that if I want him to respect me I should do it myself, and that he has not said anything bad to our son about me.
I have tried to talk to my son but every time I do we end up arguing and he just walks away and that depresses me, the worst thing is that this is starting to affect my relationship with my daughter too, she was always closer to her father, although that has never stopped her from being nice to me too. However, recently I took out my frustration on her and ended up making her cry. That same day she asked her dad to pick her up and she did, and now she doesn't even want to talk to me either.
Before you ask, yes, coming back from work I had thought more than once about cooking my son his favorite dish, but it turns out that his father has already taught him how to cook and every time I get home from work he tells me "I already cooked and ate" and that only frustrates me even more, my ex-husband knew how to cook and clean because from the age of 12 his parents worked almost all day so he learned to do things around the house alone, and that is what he is teaching our children , I don't know for what purpose but it only frustrates me more because it takes away the opportunity to surprise my son with something to restore our bond.
I spoke to my ex again about it, and I explicitly told him that I am going to take him to court if he doesn't do something, he told me that he has not done anything to damage my relationship with our children, that I am the one who is. That if he had wanted to keep me away from my children he would have done it during the divorce, but he didn't, but he is not going to force them to think the way I want when they are of age to start. to form their own opinions. After that he ended up telling me that I should think more about our daughter, that she even went with him when she had her first period (I didn't know that my daughter had already had her first period) when the most usual thing is for the daughter to go with her mother about it and that only shows that I am the one who is keeping my children away from me, not him.
He told me that I should seek therapy and that he can take care of the children while I "heal", I know very well that what he wants is to distance me even more from them with that excuse, and that's what I told him, he just told me to get my things in order and left.
I practically ended up crying after that, so bad is it that he sits down with them and orders them to treat me like his mother again and impose authority? Am I an asshole for that?