Guilt can eat you alive, I can say I experienced it first hand.
When people think of cannibalism, notorious serial killers like Jeffery Dahmer, Ted Bundy will pop into anyone's head
Though there is another type of cannibalism that is far less comprehensible then just regular, and that is auto cannibalism. Eating oneself.
Its even been labeled as a disorder called autophagia, usually co-morbid with things such as schizophrenia, psychosis, the types of things that will put you strapped to a bed basically.
I have autophagia, but I'm not crazy? I work, I go to school, I have friends, I have a life.
Sure I may have a little bit of darker thoughts then some people but that can be hidden
Until I decided to take action on it.
First it started with scabs, disgusting, I know. Eating scabs is something you wouldn’t normally see but it's just like someone biting their nails or chewing their coffin nails. It wasn't a bad thing, even if the taste was bad.
Food fills your senses, you can feel it on the flavor coating your tongue till it goes down your throat. Scabs on the other hand are grainy and have somewhat an iron kind of taste. It could go from feeling liquid pus to dried blood at times to. I accepted these tastes, I don't know why. I don't know. Then a stench, a stench you can taste, it's as if eating a band-aid that you have had on for the weekend was shoved down your throat.
I know it was disgusting
I felt disgusting
And somehow it just made me keep doing it
After a while of this I needed something more, I needed more tastes.
What is beneath the pale skin that I see, how white is a bone, what will muscle tissue look like before a wound clots with blood. What did all of these things taste like inside of me. I could go on about the details I was so morbidly curious about my body.
But I am not fucking crazy.
I can't be, I still function, I can see, I can work, I can eat. I can do everything a person can do, it's like living a double life of just someone I truly wanted to be and it was a curious person to explore, needed to explore what lied beneath me.
I started cutting myself, first it started with tiny, open wounds that showed a white sheet beneath. It was intriguing. I would pry at my cuts, open them with my fingers as wide as I could, try and peer at what was inside of me.
Eventually I got to see though.
Now, before I go into to much detail about this I did at this point show some kind of… off-ness my friends realized. I would get band-aids more often, not caring to answer my friends questions on why I was. I started to take energy pills because I was always cutting I got tired, so quickly. I stayed awake to cut, I maybe got two hours of sleep those days.
My family told me during this time of my life, there was nothing behind my eyes. It was was just dark, there was no flickering interest of anything. I would avoid there eyes but when they caught a glimpse it was as if they were struck with the fear that I wasn't human anymore because of my lack of life.
I had an obsession at this point.

So on Saturday I went on a long-ish car ride, and it gave me a nauseous, car sick type of migraine, which is pretty typical for me. What is not typical is that I am still feeling it 5 days later with headache meds not helping.
It comes and goes, and gets worse when i get up and move around. It's also worse upon waking up, and I've been having very surreal fever dreams. It is a pressure migraine, ranging from barely noticeable dull pain that I can ignore, to feeling like someone is literally standing on my skull where it hurts to even open my eyes. Usually I get them if my blood sugar is too low from not eating, or they can be triggered by car rides or fumes like nail polish. And usually all I need to do is eat some peanut butter crackers, turn all the lights off, take ibuprofen with some water, and sleep.
On day 3 I puked multiple times, and since then my chest and back muscles hurt when i breathe too deeply (i assume that's just from straining them while throwing up?) My whole body is kinda sore to be honest, but the chest discomfort when I take a deep breath is obviously the most concerning.
When I tilt my head forward or bend over, after a few seconds I get the sensation of water getting up my nose, and my eyes start to water. The pain and pressure spreads throughout my whole skull if I lean over too long. I feel better when laying down on my side, but laying flat on my back leads to the same water in my nose feeling.
The other issues like nausea and light sensitivity are things I've had before, even puking every once in awhile if i don't eat soon enough, but this awful pressure in my head like I went underwater without blocking my nose is new. Is it just sinuses? My nose isn't blocked or runny at all, I can breathe perfectly fine (not counting muscle soreness), and have not been coughing. I did spend a couple hours on Saturday under a tree that was covered in blossoms, but there's no way any pollen I breathed in would still be affecting me right? Allergy pills have not helped either. Plus I have not been outside for more than a few minutes in the past few days, as I've been in bed hoping this will go away if I just rest enough.
I have an appointment on Friday with my PCP to discuss this, but is there any chance it sounds like a more serious issue that warrants an ER visit? I've discovered what a cranial leak (CSF) is and am now paranoid about that. I'm only 23 but had multiple blood clots 2 years ago (that seem to have gone away now that i switched birth controls), and during that time I had an Atrial septal defect closed in my heart. So I am young but do have some history with physical health issues. Plus the years of chronic migraines, but this one has definitely been the worst from how long it's lasted and the various other symptoms it has caused.
Please let me know if anyone has experienced something similar or if it sounds more serious than just a bad migraine. Thank you!

I had a few dreams today, after struggling to stay asleep. Yet again. I've been having adrenaline every time I wake up, for several days now. Waking up from muscle spasms/aches. It feels as if I'm having an allergic reaction to something I ate.
I was in a mall, with a transporting device. I had dreamt about cake for hours, seeing a lemon crust and cream filling. The top probably had something on it, that I'm forgetting. Now, I was stepping into this machine/portal. The escapism, was exhilarating. I wished I could stay here forever.
It sent me to a section in the mall, where I saw another person. I ran away from my family, then met this interesting personality. I can't remember what she said to me. She could've been an antagonist. In the next dream, I was at my sister's boyfriend's house. He talked to me, looking at old photos of me as a toddler on the wall. 'Those look like shark eyes.' I remarked, picking one up where my eyes were dilated. He mentioned a photo where I was standing beside the/a christmas tree. Another one, where my eyes were also noticeable. That might've been the one he was talking about. I saw the christmas tree photo, and didn't like myself in any of them. On the tv, an ad for IMAX came on. I wondered what event horizon would be like on the screen there. The commercial was advertising for a new boring oscar-type film. A girl then approached me, asking me about who my favorite euphoria characters were, by just mentioning their fist names, out of context. 'I don't watch euphoria.' I said, amusing her. 'You're funny..' She replied, genuinely. Her voice was real, distinguishable. It felt so real. 'Everytime you talk/respond, your eyes sparkle/twinkle..' She said. I mentioned that I'm a pisces; that pisces and aquarius are known for having mystical eyes. Eyes that look subhuman. She agreed, mentioning friends of hers with those signs. I loved her energy. It was so high vibrational and blissful. Earlier, I had telepathically saw someone park their car in a parking lot. My teachers walked past me, annoyed by my presence.
'They dilate when I talk, probably.' I mentioned. 'Jupiter.' Doing a hand signal, to show expansion; which she immediately understood. 'Jupiter also rules pisces..' She nodded. My mercury placement could cause my eyes distinction too, I thought mentally to myself. There was a stack of something white next to me, maybe opal. I turned away from my side, to look at the glass case full of sega games behind me. 'I was too young for sega genesis.' I said to myself, seeing a guy in the corner of my eye. The IMAX ad came on a second time. This time I recognized it. I turned to shove fruity pebbles straight into my mouth. Mandy moore started playing, singing about god. It was top of the world, but with a religious theme.

Hi all, after failing Otezla and not tolerating Colchicine well, my doctor and I have decided to start Humira. My symptoms include mouth ulcers/cuts, vulvar ulcers/cuts, skin rashes and symptoms, joint pain, muscle pain, fatigue, eye problems (no eye disease yet, but dry eyes and high astigmatisms), and migraines. The Colchicine helped with my mouth ulcers and vulvar ulcers, but if I didn’t take it for a day or two because of the bad GI side effects, I would immediately have a flare up of ulcers. It also did not help with my pain at all. So, Humira is the next step.
I have some worries because it is an immunosuppressant. Has anyone had any bad experiences on Humira with their immune system? I’m traveling a bit soon and I’m worried about getting sick on the plane, even with wearing a mask. I’m also in college, so i’m frequently around a lot of people. My doctor said the bad side effects are rare, but I’m still a bit worried.
Also, my vulvar ulcers mostly appear as cuts (mostly without the white little circle around them), and they bleed. Does anyone have any experience with Humira helping with ulcers bleeding? I know that no medicine is perfect, but I am really, really hoping this helps me.
Thanks guys!

Hi...
Well let's get in to it. First, I have no prof. Secondly, I will not source anything. Thirdly, google it (it's what I did).
Life is so fucking hard.... WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY?????????????????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Degenerative Focus
My personal belief is that ADHD is a degenerative accelerant disease. What I mean by that collection of words that I put together for fun is that people naturally lose focus but people with ADHD lose it faster. By lose focus I don't mean the type of focus we lose in an hour I mean the type of focus we lose in a life time.
So picture a perfectly normal human brain person, we will call him, John. So john listens to music while watching netflix and texts with his friends all the same time because fuck it and everyone everywhere. What ends up happening is John loses his ability to focus on anything over time. Let's say for arguments sake... five years. In five years time he loses the ability to read and pay attention to what he is reading due to his bad habits.
Let's call subject two, Sad John. Sad John has ADHD and it makes Sad John well... you know. So let's say Sad John one day watches one youtube video and then another and then switches from one video to another without finishing one or the other. He starts to video hope like a freshman bar hopes... a freshman at any Florida university... just pick one. I swear two of them are named the almost exact same knowing there isn't much of a difference to celebrate. Now Sad John is unfocused. He is about as unfocused as John would be if he split his attention four ways every day for a few years.
Focus Cycling
Sad John doesn't like this state of mind, he hates it. So what could we do to help Sad John? In order to help him we first must understand Focus Cycling. Long story short you naturally become focused and unfocused throughout the day. It is almost as if it mirrors the brain's need to Sleep and Be awake. One must happen for the other to occur.
We want Sad John to be in control of his focus Cycle so he can take advantage of his focus. But what is also important to understand is that when someone tries to focus when Unfocused it further deepens the Degeneration of your focus. Think of it as straining your muscles when you are lifting waits and then something gives. It gets worse not better.
So how can we induce ourselves to be in the focus part of our cycle?
Default Mode Network
Think of it this way, you are in default mode. Default mode means you are. You be and not much else. What is particularly note worthy is even muscle memory when activated pulls one out of default mode.
Without going to much in to the since of it otherwise this might never end lol...
Lay down close your eyes. Palms up so that you aren't flexing your forearms. Try to pin point all of the tension in your body and relax the tension or else the muscle memory will be active. Breath slowly as if you are sleeping. And try to think of nothing. I know it is close to impossible but just try it and over time you'll get better. The idea is to just let your mind go wild and let it settle on it's own.
When it starts acting up again it means it is ready to focus on something. You have 20 minutes of focus. You are in your focus cycle and you have about 20 minutes to do your thing.
Just so you know it can be longer, they say people can focus up to one hour and thirty minutes at a time but since we have ADHD ... let's go with the smallest amount lol
And you do that. You read, study or what have you for 20 minutes and then go back in to default mode for as long as you need. You have to lay down for as long as you think you need to. Sometimes I'm laying down for five minutes, sometimes 20 seconds, just depends how jumpy my brain is.
You do this over time and you will unstrain your focus, meaning your base focus will increase.
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After several hours, and many ruined combat servitors later, the Muse sat in the Officer's Mess Hall of the Conqueror. Tessarius had left him, saying that he had nothing to fear from the Astartes of the XII. He was supping on the same pale nutrient paste the Astartes supped on. He wished he was back with Fulgrim aboard the Pride of the Emperor drinking wine and eating real food when a woman sat on the seat across from him.
"Hello miss," he coughed, rising from his seat in a gesture of decorum. He bowed slightly. "Heinrich Verity," he grinned and extended a hand to shake hers.
"Rose," she said without extending her hand in turn. A bit flustered he sat back down on his seat.
"A pleasure Mamsell Rose," the Muse said. The woman had a hard look about her. Strong, fit, scarred. Maybe someone from the clans of the Gunnery Deck? But why did she wear the Butchers Nails of the XII? He couldn't fathom why she had been allowed up here.
"You're Fulgrim's thing then? Is that right," she said assuredly.
Heinrich's posture sharpened slightly, his eyes narrowing.
"Excuse me," he asked.
"Her Muse? Or whatever? The one Lotarra is up in arms about because you destroyed a few servitors with that voice of yours?"
The Muse blushed slightly. He wasn't a singer. He didn't really understand where the Noise he was able to produce came from.
"Well yes...that is me I suppose. I do resent being referred to as the Primarchs thing though," he felt a disturbing force welling in his throat. "We are partners if that's what you meant."
Mamsell Rose laughed long and hard and banged the table, the laugh settling into snorts and giggles.
"Are all you III Legion bastards so proper," she asked.
"Are all XII Legion crewman allowed to dine in the Officer's Mess," he bit back angrily.
Mamsell Rose stood. He saw the Nails in her scalp ticking. He wasnt entirely sure how the horrid Archeotech affected the XII, but he was aware of the influence they had on the aggression of those cursed to wear them. Her powerful muscles flexed as she easily vaulted the table to sit on the stool next to him.
"Oh pretty little Muse, we are more alike than you think," she said wrapping her arm, impossibly large, around his shoulders.
"How do you mean Mamsell," he asked doing his best not to flinch from the contact and staring into her black eyes.
"We're both damned," she said flatly, in a near whisper. "Angron made the whole Legion get the Nails. Many fought it. She killed them. I underwent the process to make her happy...because I love her so," the Muse saw tears welling in the Mamsells eyes and how hideously the Nails began to tick. "Tell me pretty Muse...what have you done to make Fulgrim happy?"
Heinrich thought of the many surgeries he had undergone at the hands of Lieutenant-Commander Fabius. Thought of the power now welling in his throat.
"I've...everything in my power. I love her," the Muse whispered back.
"And yet here we are. Two damned things. In love with damned things," Mamsell Rose said.
"Primarch Fulgrim... and Primarch Angron... are loyal children of the Emperor. I dont understand..." Heinrich stammered.
Rose caught him easily by the throat and squeezed. Heinrich watched the Nails ticking harder than ever, tears streaking down Rose's face.
"If you think that? If you really think that!? Go back to Fulgrim when we're in orbit over Istvaan III. ASK HER WHY WE'RE REALLY HERE!"
She threw him then. He passed over a few tables before landing on the floor of the Mess Hall dragging chairs with him until he was sprawled in a mess.
When he got up Mamsell Rose was gone.

Malcolm's heart pounds through the design of a moth circling a lit candle on his black t-shirt. The morning sun creeps over the horizon. Saturating his pallor skin with blood orange rays. Malcolm’s short auburn hair flits in the wind.The crimson clouds overhead appear as if the sky is bleeding. Malcolm peers ahead. The straight path before him. a cruel joke. It's a relentless reminder of the unyielding grip his past has on him. Each step a battle against the anxiety dragging him back into the darknessHeavy-eyed, he gazes upon the looming hotel. Parking in the parking lot, illuminated by a lonely streetlight. The air, thick with the scents of morning dew and urine. An assault on the senses. Ahead, cowers a young lady. Her face, bearing too much rouge. Her delicate jawline, framed by red hair, though it's now past its prime. Her attire speaks of success, but the swollen left eye betrays her. Short red skirt. Black fishnet stockings over long. Thin legs, her feet fight to fit into petite black high heels. a faded sky blue tank-top. Christened with a spattering of fresh blood—amongst other fluids.Her current trick is an arrogant punk with tall, drooping shoulders. He wears an ire-filled smile and an unkempt goatee. His cue ball head reflects the streetlight. Revealing his ugly dark-blue Dickies covered in grease. As well as With his open, garish work shirt, exposing a red wife-beater. Sean managed to embody everything Malcolm found repulsive. A name tag hangs off the punk’s shirt like a crooked portrait: Sean.Scumbags like Sean are a tempting meal. Malcolm’s mouth waters. He tries to look away. Bang! Malcolm snaps his head up. His eyes find the streetwalker as she rolls off the hood of a shitty muscle car—no doubt Sean’s. A smart man would mind his own business. When a man has an opportunity for pleasure. it's hard to resist. Malcolm is an anomaly and anything but “smart”.The air crackles with tension as Sean's words slice through. “The fuck you want?”Give me a reason. The thought chants in Malcolm’s head. A surge of anger courses through Malcolm. his muscles tense with the urge to retaliate, but beneath the surface, fear gnaws at him. .Sean steps up to Malcolm. Within seconds, they stand eye-to-eye. “Mind your own business, man,” Sean says."Is this really worth it?" the girl asks, her voice tinged burdened with pain.Give me a reason. The thought continues to chant in Malcolm’s head. With each word. the atmosphere grows heavier, suffocating Malcolm with a sense of dread. He struggles to keep his composure, his thoughts an eye in the storm.“I will fuck you up.” Sean says.Give me a reason.The girl buckles as she tries to get back up.. Sean kicks her. “Stay down, bitch!” The sight of Sean's violence against the girl sends a jolt of hunger through Malcolm. His blood boils as he watches her struggle.“Fuck off.” Sean lobs a fist at Malcolm; to Sean’s pupils are pins, Malcolm allows it to connect.His lip split, Malcolm tastes the familiar rush of life filling his mouth. pain explodes through his senses, followed by a rush. It's a familiar sensation, one that ignites a fire. Action beats from Malcolm’s heart to his limbs. Joy washes over him. Sean’s eyes widen, his true cowardice reveals itself now that trouble flashes in front of his eye.Malcolm gives him a cheerful grimace and spits out “Thank you.”

I held the package close, its precious contents pressed against my spine. The steady beeps that communicated life drove my exhausted legs forward. Even with the combat stimulants running rampant through my blood, my nervous system bringing fibrous polymer muscles to their brink, and a set of assisting servos practically tripling my stride speed, I was exhausted. The sun and its rays bared down on me like a predatory dragon, each ray a fang made of flame, ready to tear open my suit and scorch my skin…but not today.
“Not today!”
I picked my stride up and sent every muscle in my body past overdrive, I tore stone and sand as I sprinted farther forward and collapsed. I had finally made it to one of the only rations of shade on the desolate moon surface. As I hit the ground and retreated into the shade, I removed the pack from my shoulders and gently laid the box down. I opened the zipper that held the sunshade on and looked at the pale figure inside.
“Hello my love, I hope you’re resting well, we finally made it, now just time to wait…and you'll be better again”
I took my helmet off and took a deep breath before beginning to set up camp. I thought back to the mission room, where I was nearly denied entry to Io
“You understand the journey you’re undertaking has never been completed before? This is a mission that as of this moment has a 100% rate of failure. Do you not think it would be wiser to simply say your goodbyes and prepare for a life without her?”
I shook my head as the council stared at me with tired expressions and pained eyes
“I am three times decorated am I not?”
The head minister nodded and shuffled her papers, reading slowly from the top page
“Argon Lethius, 12 tours, 7 rotations, 153 confirmed neutralizations, 3000 pending, strength record unmatched, augmentations class S granted. You’re also the sole surviving candidate of the sky petal program”
The sky petal program, an experimental research project I had taken part in to pay for my wedding. The core concept was simple: graft photovoltaic cells onto our skin and use nanotechnology to create a bio-mechanical ecosystem within the dermis.
The result was going to be humans capable of photosynthesis, making us less susceptible to nutrition based disaster. Rejection however was high in the program and when your body is trying to fight its skin, things get ugly quickly. A dormant gene I had passed on from my mother allowed my body to accept the prosthesis but at great cost, I was now essentially allergic to solar radiation. When I'm planetside I'm just fine, but if I was in an area devoid of atmosphere, the nanotech would go overkill, usually producing energy akin to solar flares from my skin.
“Mr. Lethius, your feats and skills are unmatched, your circumstances are impossible to reproduce and the dedication you’ve shown to this coalition has been unwavering. Which is why we sympathize with your loss, and grieve with you. Crystal was-”
I snapped at her
“Is…she’s still alive”
The minister nodded and corrected herself
“I'm sorry, Crystal is an incredible addition to this council, and we are deeply sorry both internally and externally. But the dragons of Io have no official record, and the sunlight alone could overcharge you in a day, leaving not only our best military asset but also his sick wife stranded without hope of rescue”
I nodded and spoke solemnly
“3 days supply, and a ship to drop me off, if I don't respond in 4 days, come get my body and bury her where we fall. She loves it there. Even if I can't save her, I want her to rest somewhere she would be happy”
I snapped back to the present and finished setting up camp. Unpacking our supplies and connecting a set of solar panels to her cryo-chamber. I watched her take deep breaths through the ventilator as I threw a tarp overhead and began digging into the rockface.
“You’ll be ok my love, by this time tomorrow you’ll be your old self again”
I dug for hours, tearing holes in my suit and flaying the skin from my fingers. As my blood hit the white dirt and stained the cracked surface, I felt a degree of nausea rise up from my stomach. Saliva filled my dry mouth and I bit down on my tongue to prevent the vomit. Bile reached the back of my throat and I dug my fingers into the dirt, searching for the Will to resist my body’s urges. The sun couldn’t take me, my mind couldn’t shake me, I would not buckle before saving her. Before long I couldn't go on, and I needed to rest.
I swallowed hard and sat back, laying down and looking up at the harsh sky.
“Hindsight is 20/20, we can keep trying new things but sometimes this is just how things work out, I’m sorry”
I nodded as the doctor left the room and she sat motionless in her gown.
“That guy didn’t know what he was talking about, there’s so many treatments, we’ll just go to another doctor”
She brushed a strand of hair out of her face and looked up at me
“I’m tired of my love, can we go home?”
I nodded without speaking and embraced her, feeling her slow and weakened heartbeat against my chest, its rhythm in sync with my own.
“Sure, We’ll go home”
That was the last time I saw her awake, she fell asleep on the car ride home…and never woke up. I was able to bring her to the hospital where they revived her, but she was comatose, most likely asleep till the cancer kills her.
“I’m sorry my love”
I looked over at her chamber before bringing my hand up to my face and staring at the mangled flesh of my palms.
“A drop of blood for a question, a thousand heartbeats for an answer”
I heard the voice in my head as if it was a thought I had formulated all on my own, but the voice was different, it didn’t belong to me nor anyone I had ever heard before.
“A single tear for a favor, an entire ocean for its completion”
I crawled to the spot where my blood had dripped into the ground, the sand was stained red but almost completely dry. I leaned over it and thought about my honeymoon, I thought about vacations and work, time together and apart, moments where she was everything. I thought about the idea of my life without her, and then it came like a flood. Tears flowed freely from my eyes and drenched the ground, the first falling square on the red stain in the sand. The liquid pooled on top and a small ribbon of crimson fluid flowed upward into the tear drop. The ribbon danced and waved in a thin line through the microscopic ocean.
“What is your question?”
The voice came from above me now, and as I slowly looked upward, a loomed overhead, blocking the sun from view, and causing my heart to skip a beat.
“What…is your question”
Before me now stood a massive beast, speaking in the voice I had heard in my mind and digging his gargantuan claws into the sand. The tip of each toe ended in a blade that was crystalline and almost translucent. Each blade too had a glowing orange stripe that when shifted, turned the sand underneath him to panes of glass. His arms were broad and powerful, covered in green scales and his maw hung open with a light blue mist emanating from his teeth. He was the dragon, the one from Io who space gods told legends about.
“I…I want to know something about my wife”
He knelt down on his two front arms and brought his eyes to my level, a kindness flowing between his seemingly infinite pupils.
“Your wife. She is a story I myself cannot seem to get over. What do you wish to know?”
I looked up at him and let out a deep breath before gesturing to her
“Can- can she be saved”
His gaze snapped to her case and he slowly moved over to where she slept
“You brought her with you, of course you did, you could never leave her behind.
I crawled over and knelt next to him, tears still flowing from my eyes.
“Please tell me, can she make it?”
He turned around and knelt next to me, putting a massive hand gently on my shoulder and speaking softly.
“My boy, She’s already made it, just not in the direction…you were hoping”
He tapped the monitor screen and it stopped showing vitals, instead displaying a digital sign in dark red letters. I read them aloud to myself.
“Subject deceased, time since last recorded activity. 37 hours 22 minutes 48-49 seconds”
He nodded and spoke calmly
“You wanted to badly for her to live, you saw her living, even when she wasn’t”
I slammed my hand on the crate and opened the lid, picking her up in my arms and putting my ear to her chest.
“Come on, come on. You’re ok, you’re ok”
I clutched her in my arms as silence arrived to my ears. I rocked her and cried into her soft silken hair. Her pale skin had lost its glimmer and I pressed my forehead against her own. I spoke through tears and a tightened throat
‘No, she cant die, I found you! I finally found you! Come on sweetheart you’re ok right? Just wake up. He's here baby we made it, please just wake up, please”
The dragon loomed over head and let out a deep breath, speaking gently, so as not to disturb the silence
“She is gone, and even I cannot save her”
I felt my skin begin flaming as I turned my head back up toward him
“Then what can you do? What can you do if you can’t bring her back to me? Why are you a legend if you cant make her breath again?!?”
He whispered softly into her ears and I felt the wind of the world around me change
“Because I can send you to her”
The planet fell silent and she disappeared along with the dragon. The camp was gone, my hand had been healed, my suit was gone and instead I wore a thin white shirt and loose cotton shorts. I was comfortable, and as I stood to my feet I felt as if my thirst had been quenched, my hunger satiated, I was…ok.
“Hello?”
I called to the emptiness, and before long a soft sullen voice spoke back.
“Hello darling”
She took my face in her hands and turned me around, holding my cheek as my whole body shook
“Hi beautiful”
I brought my hand up to her own and felt her soft warm skin against mine, I pressed my head into her hand and leapt forward, bringing her close and up into the air as I spun her around. She laughed as I gently set her down and wrapped my arms around her.
“I’m sorry you can’t stay”
I looked at her and spoke quickly
“What do you mean I can’t stay? The dragon sent me to you, he sent me to see you, so we can be together again”
She shook her head and kissed my softly, as she pulled away she put her hand on my chest
“It’s not your time hero, I’ll see you eventually, but this is goodbye for now”
I woke up on the sand, the dragon standing over me, holding her body as she began to slowly turn to dust. His tears fell on her degrading body as he handed her to me, and lowered his head.
“I'm sorry, it’s never permanent, did she tell you goodbye?”
I took a deep breath and held her in my arms before walking a few paces forward, and laying her down on the sand. I spoke calmly as tears streamed down my face.
“Yea…she did”
He nodded
“That is more than most get, was she smiling?’
I wiped my eyes and laughed
“Yea…she was”
He fluffed his wings and let the world around us grow heavy with winds
“Then your mission is complete”
I continued to cry as I looked back at him and spoke in a wavering tone
“Did you know I was a general?”
He strolled over and sat next to me, watching her particles flow away with the storm
“You were the most powerful general of all time, incapacitating but never killing, for a man with your rank one must usually commit vast atrocities but you…you never took one life”
I nodded and watched the wind whip and carry sand alongside her body
“I didn’t want to take life, I was reprimanded over and over but I always knew there was a better way, she wanted me to try, to make it so at every opportunity we could fight without ending lives…she hated senseless death…and I think I see why now”
He spoke calmly, wiping his eyes as the last of her bones turned to crystalline dust in the wind
“Her death was not senseless, in fact you'll find that when something as beautiful as her dies, it becomes impossible to make sense of it. That does not mean it happened without sense, and it does not mean her death must be for nothing. When men first meet me, they offer a drop of blood, and that is all I require for the question, but to gain my favor, they must give up a piece of themselves”
I sighed and looked up at him
“What do you need from me then?”
He gestured to where her body had sat moments ago
“You just let the biggest piece of yourself go without a fight. You have paid for more than enough trips to see her”
I nodded and spoke without waiver
“I'm not supposed to keep visiting her though, am I? She won’t be happy till we see eachother again permanently, and if I show up prematurely…she would probably be pissed. So ,I guess now I just live?”
He laid down in the sand and let out a deep groan
“I don’t think I’ve lived in quite some time, I’ve been stranded here for so long, evading capture to exist within my freedom, too afraid to face the cosmos again”
I patted his side and gripped what was essentially his ankle
“You shouldn’t be afraid, fear doesn’t do anything for men like us. Maybe we should sit a while, and see if your fear doesn’t go away”
He let out a deep breath and closed his eyes, laying down as I watched the sun rise over the horizon. My heartbeat continued, but as I watched the last of her ashes swirl through the air, I found a modicum of peace, and I thought about her.

Hi there! I'm kind of new to this and looking for support. I've only been off of testosterone and publicly detransitioning for a month now. I'll write some of the backstory out and then my questions/concerns about my former transition and what to do next. I might ramble, my apologies. I have a lot to say, and I am definitely feeling emotional about it all. It's a big deal.
I'm (27F) woman and I was transitioning as an FTM for over 5 years. I have a bit of a complicated transition history that stretches back into my earlier teen years, but I medically transitioned in my 20s for that 5 years. I only went on testosterone and never got any procedures done. However, I passed fairly well when binding and with my facial/body hair growth. I was diagnosed with gender dysphoria but I'm not sure if that was correct or not. Honestly, I think I struggled more with body dysmorphia than anything gender-specific. I've had a very traumatic life (just saying that for context, I don't try to live my life in a victim mentality, my trauma has just influenced my decisions) and I went through puberty early so I was more aware of sticking out than someone in general would have. I genuinely did feel like I was transgender at parts of my life, but I don't think I would have identified that way if I had received better mental healthcare and guidance for how to accept and love and care for myself as the capable woman I am.
Overall, I think my transition was successful in a way because I accomplished a lot of life goals during the process and connected with myself. I finished undergrad, got into graduate school, worked hard in academia and in jobs, became a professional artist and writer and much more- all things that I never thought I was smart enough to do before transitioning. (I know, that sounds terrible :c ) Ultimately though, transitioning was leading me to an unhealthy place. I started to uncover a lot of traumas in therapy linked to bad male figures in my life and I started to piece together that perhaps I was trying to become the positive male figure that I never had before. Honestly, becoming that "man" did help, but the whole time it was just me. I'll never have a father, and I'll never get the peace and innocence I had before former abusive relationships, but I should have understood that my inner strength was inside of me as a woman the whole time. I didn't have to be a trans man to access that. I never experienced life as a single adult woman since I was always under negative male control, so this new phase of life is an entirely new world to me in a way. It's exciting, fresh, scary, and I am feeling so many things. I don't feel bitter about transitioning but I'm silently highly critical of my past situation and the way I regard other transitions I see IRL and online.
Towards the last two years of medically transitioning I started to experience really weird symptoms. There is a possibility that some of this is tied with long covid because I got seriously ill a couple of years ago, but I noticed symptoms become worse when dosage went higher and better when dosage was lower. Eventually, my doctor put me on what he called a "nonbinary level" which got my levels to somewhere around 99 when he said they should have been at 300. This was the point that I took medicine into MY own hands and told HIM that I wanted to be on that low dose because I felt better on it even though he wanted to increase it for some reason.
The symptoms I was having were heart palpitations, chest pains, muscle aches, loud joint cracking and pains, weakness and prone to injuries, vaginal dryness and pain, dizzy spells, and more probably that I can't think of. I have brought up these things to various doctors especially the last one and none of my "transgender healthcare professionals" seemed worried/interested enough to investigate what was going wrong other than give me blood tests or prescribe me a medicine that I wouldn't take. I felt like I had to handle my own treatment plan by becoming uncomfortably self-aware of my body situation and adjust my weight, supplements, and testosterone based on what would make me feel the least crappy. I felt abandoned by the medical field and I'm having to search for competent clinicians now who can see what's actually happening with my health. Thankfully most of the negative side effects have either subsided or lessened considerably but I don't know how much damage was actually done. I'm very grateful I still have my breasts and that my reproductive system is working a bit better, though I haven't gotten my period back yet.
Another frustration that helped me choose to detransition was understanding that the trans space is actually more dangerous than people want others to see it as. I hate saying that it's dangerous because I don't want to fearmonger ever, it's more of a logical observation. The amount of people that were predatory towards me when I was a trans man is shocking. I have trust issues already and I thought that presenting as male would protect me, but there were several who knew how to manipulate my insecurities and benefit from my vulnerability. A couple of months before I made the choice to detransition, I was a victim of a very violent SA from a "friend." I was hospitalized and injured for weeks if not months and it made me reconsider everything during the intensive therapy. My eyes opened to the reality of "chasers" who just wanted to feminize me, enact their kinks on me, and objectify/brutalize/humiliate me for my inherent womanhood. The people that claimed to love me as a trans man in theory, hated me as a woman in practice. It was horrific.
I'm so so so thankful that other detransitioners are being vocal about their experiences and reaching out even though it's a hard thing to do. I feel like I've been saved from a lifetime of extra pain and challenges that I was tricked into. My experience could have been much worse, and it was already not good.
While now I'm learning how to love myself more and navigate the world and processes of detransitioning, I'm also facing my mindset changing towards transitioning. At this point in time, I do personally believe that some transgender people do exist with gender dysphoria, but I think it is much rarer than the dominating narrative seems to suggest. I've started to hear more about AGPs and one of my friend groups almost all transitioned to become "trans women" but they don't seem to put in any effort to socialize or appear like women. They only tend to have sexual discussions and have started to seem very predatory and creepy towards me and others. One of them is convinced she has a period too. I have distanced myself from them because they have crossed my boundaries and I feel very threatened. But I feel like I can't confront them about the offensive gender issue because they'll think I'm transphobic when in reality, I feel like they're being misogynistic and hurtful.
Has anyone else experienced difficulties in healthcare/bad hormone side effects? Or what are your thoughts on dangers in the trans community? Do you have any tips on how to navigate the early stages of detransitioning? I just filed for my name change and am hoping to get laser removal soon! :)
Thank you so much for reading and any comments/advice. I appreciate it. I'm a little lost and nervous.

It seems like she’s feeling insecure again. I keep my eyes shut tight, preparing myself for the song and dance I had been through so many times before. The weight of the bed shifts under me as she crawls under the blankets. A cold limb flops over my torso, wrapping me in a frigid embrace. I resist the urge to flinch as the moist, squishy mass of flesh presses into my forehead, a tickling droplet of fluid slides down my face and over my tightly pursed lips. Not daring to move, I waited patiently for the words I knew must come. Finally, after what seems like an eternity, a muffled teary voice sounds in a desperate tone:
“Do you...”
The voice falters, emitting several low-pitched, labored gurgles before continuing:
“Love me?”
Without hesitation I respond, as gently as could be managed:
“Of course I love you. But it’s time to go back to sleep now, okay?”
The gurgling continues, higher pitched now, like an excited baby. After a few moments the squishy mass detaches itself from my forehead, and the weight in the bed shifts. The gentle smacking of feet against hardwood floor, and a door quietly closing across the house resound in the otherwise silent room. Sitting up on the edge of the bed, I rock gently back and forth with my head in between my legs, resisting the tears that are fighting to escape. I allow a few moments of this pointless self-pity before forcing myself to stand up.
I walk down the hallway to the bathroom, not allowing my eyes to stray to the door to what used to be my room. A look in the mirror reveals that my forehead has already started breaking out in small orange pustules, along with a small streak of them where the fluid had dripped down my face. At least it didn't get in my mouth this time. That isn’t a panic I would like to revisit. I retrieve the small bottle of vinegar from the medicine cabinet and apply it to a cotton ball, beginning the tedious task of treating my face. A harsher acid would probably do a better job, but I prefer to avoid the stinging even if the pustules disappear more slowly. It’s not like I need to look handsome for anyone. It’s unlikely she can even really see me.
Once my skin is sufficiently covered in the stuff, I grab a bucket and mop, and clean the wet footprints from the hallway, and from the living room where my bed is located. Most of the wood flooring throughout the house is already somewhat corroded, but I’d prefer to keep my home intact to the extent that I am able. Although it’s up to anyone’s guess what manner of hellscape the bedroom must look like. I hadn’t been in that room in a long time. That was her domain now, and there was no reason for me to enter. No reason to take that risk.
I light the small gas cooktop in the kitchen and get to work making food for the day. Canned food is surprisingly appetizing when there’s nothing to do but eat. It would taste better with some seasoning, but there was no point in going through that much effort. This food serves one purpose, and that’s to keep us from starving. I slide one plate under the crack between the floor and the bedroom door and sit down in the living room with the other plate in hand.
The book on the coffee table catches my eye as it does every morning. Sighing, I pick up the ratty collection of pages and flip to a random one. One of the few books on the “Great Plague” as they call it, that was ever published, or at least, the only one I could ever find. Titled “The End” by Jared Kramer, It was more of a fanatical opinion piece than a proper informative book, but Kramer at least provided a bit of information on the virus, how the transformation works, and what methods could be used to, in his words, “Cure” the afflicted. A shotgun was noted as the best medicine, with gasoline and matches being a close second. Near the middle of the book, the portion that was coincidentally staring back at me from the pages, it turned into a near unintelligible ranting on the philosophy of consciousness. Apparently, Kramer had only just begun to consider whether blowing the afflicted’s brains out was a morally reasonable decision. He had never come across as a particularly intelligent guy in his writings, and my assumption was that he was simply the only person who wrote fast enough to get a book published before the plague became a worldwide epidemic. Towards the end of the book, Kramer does a 180 and states repeatedly that “Accepting the transformation is the only road to salvation”.
“Salvation... as if”
My words perish in the empty air, a death rattle of frustrated skepticism.
I had never quite understood what that actually meant. Salvation would be something like deliverance from harm, harm being the only thing that the plague brought to the world. The book thuds as I carelessly toss it back on the table. It's obvious that the author was in the process of transforming as he wrote the final passages, but they never ceased to bother me. Perhaps I'm just fixating on those words as a way of keeping my mind occupied.
There’s really no reason to focus on such pointless things.
--------------------
The following night my sleep was peaceful and uninterrupted. She usually shows up once a week, if not less frequently. After waking, the bathroom mirror reveals that the pustules ha subsided slightly, leaving my skin smooth, if not free of the noticeable blemishes. A subtle glint of light shines off of my head and my heart rate accelerates.
Surely not.
Surely it was a trick of the light.
I begin rifling through my matted hair furiously and there it is. A single, silver hair hanging in front of my forehead.
I guess this is it then.
She made sure I had sworn on everything under the sun. Her stupid goofy smile reflected in my memory.
“First grey hair and I’m outta here mister”
To think that a silly little joke between us had turned into this solemn responsibility. The steel of the revolver was cold in my palm. My eyes locked onto it, unsure of when it had made its way from the drawer of the coffee table into my hand, or for that matter, when I had entered the living room. The earth seemed to be rotating at impossible speeds. Everything was black except for the gun in my hand and the book on the coffee table. That goddamn book. One of the pages had begun to tear away from the others, no doubt a result of my less than careful treatment of the thing, and a single word seemed to assault my fragile psyche.
Salvation.
I get it now
My heartbeat slows marginally as the unravelling of this book that I’ve read so many times presented a welcome distraction. There had been nothing left for Kramer, or anyone else for that matter, in a world that was dying around them. His salvation was freedom from the great plague. His call to “accept” the transformation, was not the same as giving in to it. After all, hadn’t he expressed over and over again exactly how to “find release” as he called it, from the infection.
Kramer, unlike me, had accepted that there was no life in transformation, no being, no humanity, and no way back. His moral dilemma had come to a close, likely with a bullet in his brain.
A reluctant chuckle rose through my chest and escaped my throat. It didn’t sound like me. It was twisted, choked, and raspy. She had always known hadn’t she, that I would stay in this house with her. That’s why she had forced me to swear up and down on something as silly and inevitable as a grey hair, before locking herself in that room five years ago. Knowing her, it had all been for my own good, a way for her to look out for me even after she was long gone.
The creak of the door was like nails on a chalkboard. I laid my eyes for the first time in years on my wife, or at least, what was left of her. I had seen the afflicted before, but seeing her in this state brought a blockage to my throat that nothing could have prepared me for. Her head had been obscured by the typical growth, characteristic of the great plague, A mass wider than her torso which was completely wrapped around her head, the loose flesh sagging down onto her shoulders. Large orange boils were dotted across this mass, as well as glistening, concave pits, where those boils had burst and left scars. The thick external vein structure wrapped around it was partially translucent, providing a window to the tar-like substance flowing slowly throughout. The worst thing, however, the thing that forced my tears out of my eyes and onto the corroded floor, was her body. Her clothes had long since disintegrated, leaving a sight that was fundamentally identical to what I remembered, with one exception. The excess weight of the mass upon her shoulder had atrophied her spine, which had crumpled, leaving her torso contorted in a grotesque fashion, the flesh and muscle folding in upon itself in places.
I had let this happen. I had as good as desecrated my wife’s corpse by leaving her in this state, by convincing myself that a cure would be found for a plague that had long-since been eradicated by other means. I did this.
My hands move as though without instruction from my brain, raising the revolver to my eye-level, pointing at the place where my wife’s head was concealed amid that horrid mass of flesh.
Her head tilted upwards slightly, as if she was looking at me with eyes that had been long-since obscured. That muffled, teary voice sounded out from amidst the heap weighing on her shoulders. Despite myself hesitated for just a moment, savoring the shadow of a voice that I would never hear again.
“Do you love me?”

“Beasts all over the shop…You’ll be one of them, sooner or later…”
The strange Hunter turned around and exhaled. His breath was visible against the night’s air.
He’s bloodlusted. Aegis, I hope you have a plan.
Shimmer saw Elpis step back slightly, with a shocked expression on her face. She shakily raised a claw and pointed at something on the ground.
No. It… it can’t be.
That’s… horrible.
A shattered red jeweled necklace lay strewn across the ground, beside the mangled corpse of the Silkwing.
The Hivewing in front of the three swung his axe to the side. As it was a trick weapon, he was able to change its form on command. The axe had two forms: a shortened form that acted sort of like a sword, and an extended form specialized in crowd control and reach.
He extended his axe and Shimmer heard a low snarl from his throat.
“Do we kill him?” Elpis asked, a hint of fear in her voice.
“We don't have a choice. Steel yourself.” Aegis muttered and brandished his silksabers. The blades gleamed in the soft light of the three moons.
The hunter was taller than all of them, one head taller than Aegis and two taller than Shimmer and Elpis. Black tattered robes clung to him, marking him a Shadowhunter. Blood from tonight’s hunt stained the black fabric, showcasing his expertise and experience in the hunt. He wore a rounded dark-gray hat, and bloodied bandages covered his eyes. Shimmer wondered if he could even see.
Corpses of both beasts and dragons were scattered about the square-shaped courtyard, an equal amount of gravestones breaking up the open space. His teeth were uneven as if he had been eating and chewing rough bones. Blood dripped from his mouth down his neck, and his Hivewing stingers flexed in anticipation.
“Be careful,” Aegis started, “He’s going to use magic. Elpis, don’t use any of yours.” He told the hybrid dragon beside him, and she nodded.
The hunter walked slowly around them, searching for a weakness in their structure, and then spat out a lump of coagulated blood.
“That stench of squalid blood. No beast will be spared.” He half-muttered and half-growled. He tipped his hat respectfully, before lunging at Elpis. She dove to the side, and tried to retaliate with her scythe, but just slightly missed.
This hunter was agile, surprisingly so considering how old he looked. Shimmer gripped the handle of her silkhammer, knowing it wasn’t the time to strike. She stepped backward, seeking cover behind a grave, while Aegis leaped forward with the intent to pierce the frenzied hunter’s heart. Once again, the hunter rolled to the side and sent his axe hurtling towards the smaller Silkwing. Shimmer felt fear grip her heart, but Aegis avoided the blade. He fell back and motioned for Elpis to stay back.
“A sporting hunt. But alas, I’ve forgotten to ask your name.” Aegis growled, and the hunter laughed a sick, disturbing laugh.
“The name’s Gascoigne.” He shot back, and jumped into the air, slamming his axe down where Aegis was a split second ago. Shimmer’s ears rung from the sound of the impact. Her antennae subconsciously curled in defensively.
“Gascoigne. That’s a nice name. I’ll tell Ludwig you were a proud hunter till the end.” Aegis replied and sent his twin blades slicing into the hunter’s thigh. He recoiled, and a gleeful laugh escaped his bloodied mouth.
“Hehe… the sweet stench of blood. Just… just marvelous!” He exclaimed and raised his off-talon towards Aegis.
“Aegis! Get down!” Shimmer called, and a burst of flame erupted from the hunter’s claws across the courtyard. The limited magic the Hivewing had that he was willing to use in this hunt.
Aegis fell back, hissing in pain as a few stray flames singed his tail. The hunter chuckled under his breath, and Elpis took advantage of the opening he had presented her. She thrust the blade of her scythe toward him, opting for its sword form as of now, and the hunter knocked the blow aside. He countered with a kick to the Ice-Hivewing’s ribs, and she was sent to the ground. She coughed up a spurt of blue Icewing blood, and the hunter lifted his axe for a finishing blow.
Shimmer roared out and swung her hammer toward the hunter. The silk connected it to her wrists as it flew through the air, and it hit the hunter square in his side just as his axe was falling. He was sent into the opposite side of the courtyard, coughing and sputtering, but with a faint smirk on his face. Shimmer was in disbelief; how was he not dead?
“Ooh, what’s that smell… the sweet blood, ooh, it sings to me! It's enough to make a dragon sick.” Gascoigne laughed hollowly. He raised his talon, and Shimmer quickly rolled to the side as a ball of flame soared past her horns.
He’s going to turn at this rate.
Shimmer hid under a gravestone as a tree behind her erupted in flames, and Aegis jumped into the air. He beat his four wings ferociously before diving into the hunter. He caught both of Aegis’ horns, and he twisted his head. Aegis fell to the ground, and Gascoigne slashed his axe down across the Silkwing’s leg. Aegis cried out, and Shimmer’s heart ached. She pushed herself up, ignoring the raging fire around her, and she threw her hammer up in the air and aimed it towards the hunter. He narrowly evaded the heavy impact of the stone before Shimmer heard a metal clang behind her.
Elpis, scythe in one talon, approached Gascoigne. She had the little music box in her other.
Elpis played the music box and a song of eerie notes filled the courtyard.
The hunter stumbled back, clawing at his face, and Elpis shot Shimmer a look, her face telling her to make sure Aegis was okay.
Elpis advanced on the struggling hunter, and Shimmer leaped over to her Silkwing partner, who was injured on the ground. She felt tears welling in her eyes, but she knew this wasn’t the time to cry.
“Aegis. Look at me. Look at me.” She repeated, and he lifted his head weakly. His leg had a massive gash in it, but he could probably still walk, just with a limp.
“Ah, Shimmer. I’m alright. I’ll be back in the fight. Go, help Elpis. I’ll join back soon enough.” He groaned, and the pair heard a roar behind them.
Elpis was locked in a duel with Gascoigne, and the hunter’s stray fireballs met with blasts of frostbreath. For the first time in the battle, the hunter had a slight look of fear on his face. Elpis was relentless, her burial blade swiftly countering and stopping any attempt Gascoigne made at advancing. Aegis crawled back and attempted to stand, using a grave for support.
“Shimmer! I can’t hold him for long!” Elpis called, and Shimmer nodded. She took the hammer in her claws and swung it around her side, and in a clockwise circle in the air. It was the perfect counterweight to her body weight. She hoisted it up further into the air and then brought it crashing down onto the hunter.
It struck Gascoigne directly on the spine, and he fell to the ground.
He screamed in pain.
And then, a bright light flashed from his body.
His screams deepened in tone, morphing to be more animalistic. His posture fell forward, and his muscles rippled through his body. He grew in size, and more of his bloodied garb ripped from the size change.
Fur sprouted from seemingly random places on the Hivewing’s body, and his claws extended. His face shifted, his features becoming more and more distorted. His black hat fell to the ground.
The bandages around his eyes stayed, as well as the black-tattered garb that marked him as once a Hunter.
He was no longer a Hunter. Moons above, he wasn’t even a dragon anymore.
He was now a beast.
Shimmer’s heart pounded in her chest. She stared at the transformation for a split second, before reeling in her hammer. She took it in her right talon and dove behind a gravestone, wary of the spreading flames.
Elpis, on the other claw, held her blade in front of her. Shimmer heard a rasping cough escape the Ice-HiveWing’s throat, but she didn’t break her stance.
The beast that was once Gascoigne whipped around toward Elpis, and launched himself at her, with a ferocity Shimmer had never seen even in beasts.
Elpis sidestepped quickly. The beast slammed into the wall with a loud roar, and Shimmer spied Aegis in her peripheral vision struggling to stand. He winced as he stood on his injured leg, but didn’t cry out. He brandished his two blades as the beast charged at him.
“Aegis!” Shimmer cried.
He’s going to get hit. That beast will kill him.
Aegis ignored her, and as soon as the beast was within a wingspan from him he twisted his body in such a way that he narrowly avoided the savage charge. He elegantly sliced his twin blades across the beast’s hide, and the creature howled before rapidly turning to face him.
Shimmer flew into the air. “Get away from him!” She yelled before bringing the weight of her hammer down on the beast. It flattened part of his ribcage, but it seemed impervious to the pain. It did knock him to the ground, though, giving Aegis a moment to cut through what was once two of the hunter’s wings.
The beast quickly got back on its claws before sending a flurry of swipes towards Shimmer. She dodged to the side and readied her hammer for another strike.
That was before the beast kicked her square in her chest, its sharp, ravenous claws digging in and tearing her scales. Shimmer fell back, a slight gasp escaping her mouth, and she stumbled back into the wall. She lost her footing and fell to the ground, and gazed up at the beast locked on her.
“Aegis! Help!” She yelled, and not even a second later her Silkwing partner crashed into the beast. They fell to the ground, grappling with each other before Shimmer heard a familiar song fill the courtyard.
Elpis was cranking the music box, its ominous lullaby breaking up the noise of the fight. The beast stopped attacking Aegis and instead clawed at its face. It growled and screamed in pain, drawing blood from its very own fur and scales.
“Now! Kill it!” She yelled through the song, and Aegis nodded before driving his two blades through the beast’s skull.
They stuck, and the beast roared before throwing him off. It crawled and thrashed about on the ground, clearly not dead, and the two new blades stuck to his head pointed out like new horns.
Now’s my chance.
Shimmer stumbled to her claws and wound her hammer up into the air. With every last bit of her strength, she brought it down on the flailing beast.
It crushed what was left of the hunter.
Silence filled the courtyard, only broken by a few stray notes from the music box, the pained breathing of the three hunters in the area, and the howls and screams from other places in the Hive.
Shimmer breathed a sigh of relief, before collapsing.
I did it. We did it.
Gascoigne was free.
…
“I brought you water.”
Shimmer opened her eyes and found herself in her familiar hospital room.
The morning sun’s rays lit the room, and Shimmer felt very little pain from her chest.
It had been three days since that night.
Shimmer fixed her gaze on the purple-orange Silkwing sitting beside her and smiled.
“Thanks. I’m feeling much better, we should get going to Bloodworm soon. It’s today, remember?” Shimmer asked, and he nodded. Of course, he remembered.
The summons for every hunter to come to Bloodworm Hive. Ludwig, The Holy Blade had requested them all. He no doubt planned an attack. A shame really, the hive was only newly rebuilt. And now it was going to be the site of a horrid, savage warzone.
“I remember. Are you sure you’re feeling okay? Ludwig would understand if you couldn’t come,” Aegis asked, and she spied a hint of worry on his face.
“I’m fine. I need to make sure you don’t do anything stupid. I’ll come.” She sighed and took a sip from the canteen that Aegis had brought. It tasted wonderful, he had put something in to flavor it.
“Honeydew?” She guessed, and Aegis smiled.
“Yep. It’s your favorite, right?” He asked, and she nodded. She opened her arms, and he hugged her tight.
“I love you,” Shimmer whispered in his ear.
“I love you too. I pray to Clearsight that we’ll both be safe today. I can’t bear to lose you.” Aegis replied. He pulled away and gazed out the window.
Shimmer quickly drank the rest of the honeydew-flavored water before getting out of bed. She joined him at the window and was slightly surprised by what she saw.
Almost all of the hunters of Jewel Hive were preparing, some of them already flying in the direction of Bloodworm. They were all sharpening their trick weapons, mixing poisons, or saying goodbye to loved ones.
“We should get going. It’ll be midmorning when we get there, I don’t want to be late.” Shimmer suggested, and Aegis put a wing around her.
“Now? I need to get my stuff, and you do too. Join me at the workshop.” He asked, and she slid her head in the curve of his neck as he led her out of her sick room.
…
Shimmer beat her wings strong and fast against the morning savanna winds.
She saw what looked to be several hundred, maybe even a thousand dragons gathered around a hill. All of them had a colored garb fluttering proudly from their neck. Around ninety percent of the garbs were white, and the rest were black.
They were all different tribes and a fair amount of hybrids were scattered about as well. The gathered hunters were mostly Pantalan, but a good few were from Pyrrhia as well.
Shimmer and Aegis landed a short distance away from the hill, and all around them the sounds of dragons conversing and laughing with each other.
The sun was high in the sky, but it wasn’t quite noon yet.
“You see anyone you recognize?” Aegis asked, and Shimmer shook her head.
“There’s too many dragons here. It’s too much.” She whimpered, and Aegis pulled her close. He knew she didn’t do well in crowds. That was partly why she became a Shadowhunter. To work alone or with no more than a few other dragons.
“You’re safe with me.” He comforted her, and she leaned against him.
She had always hated being with a lot of other dragons. Aegis said it sounded like she had anxiety, which made sense. It didn’t do much to alleviate that fear, though.
None of them are thinking about you. They’re all busy with their own stuff.
Just take deep breaths.
“Do you want to move away? There’s fewer dragons over there,” He asked and pointed a claw across from them.
“…No, no I’m fine.” She whispered, and Aegis sighed.
“Alright. If you want to move, don’t be afraid to ask. I don’t mind it.”
Shimmer shook her head quickly, before the pair heard a loud voice from the top of the hill. They both looked up and saw the legendary hunter himself: Ludwig.
The menacing Nightwing stood proudly, his holy silver sword slung across his shoulder. His partner Memoria stood beside him, her tail twined around his. She had a bored look on her face as she stared at the crowd. The voices of the dragons fell silent, and Shimmer felt like she could breathe again.
The Nightwing’s loud voice echoed through the plain. “Dear Hunters.” He paused, his heroic voice inspiring pride and triumph in Shimmer, even though he had barely started.
“I’m sure all of you know why we’re here. Behind me, Bloodworm Hive stands proud against the horizon. Yet I am more than certain you all know what lies inside.” He paused and pointed his sword toward the dark shape of the Hive.
“Beasts. A few thousand. I think it’s time we put them out of their misery. That is why we are here. A battle of the ages, one that will go down in history. We, the brave heroes, fighting against evil. We will be reveled, we will be honored. We will protect the dragons we hold dear to our hearts, and save those we can yet save.” His speech roused the crowd, and Shimmer felt herself stand a little taller.
“The plan is simple. The Hunters of the Sun will lead the charge from the front. I have already talked to the leaders of the charge. The Shadowhunters will pick the stray beasts off from behind. We will attack at dusk when half the sun is hidden from the eye.” He gestured with his sword at the rising sun, and he extended his wings. His massive wingspan seemed to fill the sky, and Shimmer's heart swelled with pride.
He held his sword up to the heavens, and it transformed. It grew larger, into the shape of a claymore, and it turned a shade of sacred jade. It glowed with an otherworldly light, and the crowd was enamored by the display.
“Now, hunters. Spend the rest of today preparing. The hunt is on tonight. Ludwig, The Holy Blade will be with all of you in spirit.” He bellowed, and the crowd erupted in applause and cheers.
Shimmer saw a proud, triumphant look in Aegis’ eyes, and she felt the same. Ludwig’s blade captivated her. The blade of legend, inspiring all who lay eyes on it.
Ludwig would be with them tonight. The best, the greatest, the strongest hunter ever.
Tonight, the hunters would not know defeat.
Nor would they ever, with Ludwig alive and at their side.
May the good blood guide your way,
Ultima_8

It seems like she’s feeling insecure again. I keep my eyes shut tight, preparing myself for the song and dance I had been through so many times before. The weight of the bed shifts under me as she crawls under the blankets. A cold limb flops over my torso, wrapping me in a frigid embrace. I resist the urge to flinch as the moist, squishy mass of flesh presses into my forehead, a tickling droplet of fluid slides down my face and over my tightly pursed lips. Not daring to move, I waited patiently for the words I knew must come. Finally, after what seems like an eternity, a muffled teary voice sounds in a desperate tone:
“Do you...”
The voice falters, emitting several low-pitched, labored gurgles before continuing:
“Love me?”
Without hesitation I respond, as gently as could be managed:
“Of course I love you. But it’s time to go back to sleep now, okay?”
The gurgling continues, higher pitched now, like an excited baby. After a few moments the squishy mass detaches itself from my forehead, and the weight in the bed shifts. The gentle smacking of feet against hardwood floor, and a door quietly closing across the house resound in the otherwise silent room. Sitting up on the edge of the bed, I rock gently back and forth with my head in between my legs, resisting the tears that are fighting to escape. I allow a few moments of this pointless self-pity before forcing myself to stand up.
I walk down the hallway to the bathroom, not allowing my eyes to stray to the door to what used to be my room. A look in the mirror reveals that my forehead has already started breaking out in small orange pustules, along with a small streak of them where the fluid had dripped down my face. At least it didn't get in my mouth this time. That isn’t a panic I would like to revisit. I retrieve the small bottle of vinegar from the medicine cabinet and apply it to a cotton ball, beginning the tedious task of treating my face. A harsher acid would probably do a better job, but I prefer to avoid the stinging even if the pustules disappear more slowly. It’s not like I need to look handsome for anyone. It’s unlikely she can even really see me.
Once my skin is sufficiently covered in the stuff, I grab a bucket and mop, and clean the wet footprints from the hallway, and from the living room where my bed is located. Most of the wood flooring throughout the house is already somewhat corroded, but I’d prefer to keep my home intact to the extent that I am able. Although it’s up to anyone’s guess what manner of hellscape the bedroom must look like. I hadn’t been in that room in a long time. That was her domain now, and there was no reason for me to enter. No reason to take that risk.
I light the small gas cooktop in the kitchen and get to work making food for the day. Canned food is surprisingly appetizing when there’s nothing to do but eat. It would taste better with some seasoning, but there was no point in going through that much effort. This food serves one purpose, and that’s to keep us from starving. I slide one plate under the crack between the floor and the bedroom door and sit down in the living room with the other plate in hand.
The book on the coffee table catches my eye as it does every morning. Sighing, I pick up the ratty collection of pages and flip to a random one. One of the few books on the “Great Plague” as they call it, that was ever published, or at least, the only one I could ever find. Titled “The End” by Jared Kramer, It was more of a fanatical opinion piece than a proper informative book, but Kramer at least provided a bit of information on the virus, how the transformation works, and what methods could be used to, in his words, “Cure” the afflicted. A shotgun was noted as the best medicine, with gasoline and matches being a close second. Near the middle of the book, the portion that was coincidentally staring back at me from the pages, it turned into a near unintelligible ranting on the philosophy of consciousness. Apparently, Kramer had only just begun to consider whether blowing the afflicted’s brains out was a morally reasonable decision. He had never come across as a particularly intelligent guy in his writings, and my assumption was that he was simply the only person who wrote fast enough to get a book published before the plague became a worldwide epidemic. Towards the end of the book, Kramer does a 180 and states repeatedly that “Accepting the transformation is the only road to salvation”.
“Salvation... as if”
My words perish in the empty air, a death rattle of frustrated skepticism.
I had never quite understood what that actually meant. Salvation would be something like deliverance from harm, harm being the only thing that the plague brought to the world. The book thuds as I carelessly toss it back on the table. It's obvious that the author was in the process of transforming as he wrote the final passages, but they never ceased to bother me. Perhaps I'm just fixating on those words as a way of keeping my mind occupied.
There’s really no reason to focus on such pointless things.
--------------------
The following night my sleep was peaceful and uninterrupted. She usually shows up once a week, if not less frequently. After waking, the bathroom mirror reveals that the pustules ha subsided slightly, leaving my skin smooth, if not free of the noticeable blemishes. A subtle glint of light shines off of my head and my heart rate accelerates.
Surely not.
Surely it was a trick of the light.
I begin rifling through my matted hair furiously and there it is. A single, silver hair hanging in front of my forehead.
I guess this is it then.
She made sure I had sworn on everything under the sun. Her stupid goofy smile reflected in my memory.
“First grey hair and I’m outta here mister”
To think that a silly little joke between us had turned into this solemn responsibility. The steel of the revolver was cold in my palm. My eyes locked onto it, unsure of when it had made its way from the drawer of the coffee table into my hand, or for that matter, when I had entered the living room. The earth seemed to be rotating at impossible speeds. Everything was black except for the gun in my hand and the book on the coffee table. That goddamn book. One of the pages had begun to tear away from the others, no doubt a result of my less than careful treatment of the thing, and a single word seemed to assault my fragile psyche.
Salvation.
I get it now
My heartbeat slows marginally as the unravelling of this book that I’ve read so many times presented a welcome distraction. There had been nothing left for Kramer, or anyone else for that matter, in a world that was dying around them. His salvation was freedom from the great plague. His call to “accept” the transformation, was not the same as giving in to it. After all, hadn’t he expressed over and over again exactly how to “find release” as he called it, from the infection.
Kramer, unlike me, had accepted that there was no life in transformation, no being, no humanity, and no way back. His moral dilemma had come to a close, likely with a bullet in his brain.
A reluctant chuckle rose through my chest and escaped my throat. It didn’t sound like me. It was twisted, choked, and raspy. She had always known hadn’t she, that I would stay in this house with her. That’s why she had forced me to swear up and down on something as silly and inevitable as a grey hair, before locking herself in that room five years ago. Knowing her, it had all been for my own good, a way for her to look out for me even after she was long gone.
The creak of the door was like nails on a chalkboard. I laid my eyes for the first time in years on my wife, or at least, what was left of her. I had seen the afflicted before, but seeing her in this state brought a blockage to my throat that nothing could have prepared me for. Her head had been obscured by the typical growth, characteristic of the great plague, A mass wider than her torso which was completely wrapped around her head, the loose flesh sagging down onto her shoulders. Large orange boils were dotted across this mass, as well as glistening, concave pits, where those boils had burst and left scars. The thick external vein structure wrapped around it was partially translucent, providing a window to the tar-like substance flowing slowly throughout. The worst thing, however, the thing that forced my tears out of my eyes and onto the corroded floor, was her body. Her clothes had long since disintegrated, leaving a sight that was fundamentally identical to what I remembered, with one exception. The excess weight of the mass upon her shoulder had atrophied her spine, which had crumpled, leaving her torso contorted in a grotesque fashion, the flesh and muscle folding in upon itself in places.
I had let this happen. I had as good as desecrated my wife’s corpse by leaving her in this state, by convincing myself that a cure would be found for a plague that had long-since been eradicated by other means. I did this.
My hands move as though without instruction from my brain, raising the revolver to my eye-level, pointing at the place where my wife’s head was concealed amid that horrid mass of flesh.
Her head tilted upwards slightly, as if she was looking at me with eyes that had been long-since obscured. That muffled, teary voice sounded out from amidst the heap weighing on her shoulders. Despite myself hesitated for just a moment, savoring the shadow of a voice that I would never hear again.
“Do you love me?”

I woke up screaming in pain the other night with my calf muscle just completely locked up. It hurt so bad it was sore for days after. I’ve been taking magnesium and I’ve increased my electrolytes since then but now the bottoms of my feet are cramping.
Is anyone else experiencing symptoms like this? It’s freaking me out. Is this a temporary thing while my body adjusts or should I stop taking them? The dark circles under my eyes are insane and I’m dizzy all the time. Not sure if it’s worth it for me to stay on this with all these side effects

Just some basic facts to review! GOOD LUCK!

• Lysosomes contain hydrolytic enzymes and used for elimination of waste products.

· Peroxisomes contain H2O2, and breaks down very long fatty acids via Beta Oxidation.
· Microfilaments used in cytokinesis and Microtubules are used in pulling sister chromatids apart (anaphase).
· Prokaryotes (50S +30S) & Eukaryotes (60S +40S)
· Lytic Cycle involves cell lysis whereas lysogenic cycle involves integration into the genome.
· Meiosis I = Reductional Divison (2nn) Meiosis II = Equational Division (nn)
· Crossing over takes place in Prophase I whereas Disjunction (or non-disjunction in abnormal cases) takes place in Anaphase I.
· Primary oocytes are arrested in Prophase I and after menarche, divide into secondary oocyte which is arrested in metaphase II till fertilization.
· Interstitial (or leydig cells) produce testosterone vs Follicles produce estrogen.
· Acrosome reaction helps in the degradation of the zona pellucida whereas cortical reaction helps to prevent polyspermy by increasing intracellular Ca2+ concentration.
· Interneurons are present in polysynaptic relflexes and NOT in monosynaptic reflexes.
· Bronchioles relax and pupils dilate in sympathetic NS whereas bronchioles and pupils constrict in parasympathetic NS.
· Peptide hormones do not need carriers to travel in the blood stream, whereas Steroid hormones do need carriers to travel in the blood stream.
· FSH causes maturation of sperm in males whereas stimulates formation of follicles in females.
· LH causes interstitial cells to secrete testosterone in males whereas it causes ovulation in women.
· Aldosterone (mineralocorticoid) does not change plasma osmolarity and is secretded when blood pressure/volume is low whereas ADH (or vasopressin) decreases plasma osmolarity and is secreted when blood plasma osmolarity is high. Also, ANP is antagonistic to Aldosterone because it promotes excretion of Na+ and water follows.
· Ghrelin (hunger hormone) and Leptin secreted by adipose cells (satiety hormone)
· AA hormones: T3 & T4, NE, Epinephrine
· Steroid hormones: Cortisol, Testosterone, Estrogen, Progesterone, Aldosterone`
· Tidal volume is the volume of air in a normal breath whereas Vital capacity is the diff between (Total Lung Capacity-Residual Volume)
· Muscles used in inhalation are external intercostals, whereas during forced exhalation, muscles used are internal intercostals.
· In acidemia, need to hyperventilate to eliminate CO2
· In alkaelemia, need to hypoventilate to lower the elimination of CO2 to increase H+
· Arteries are thicker walled than Veins.
· Parietal cells secrete HCl and intrinsic factor. Gastrin is secreted by G cells of pyloric glands which stimulate parietal cells.
· CCK stimulates bile and pancreatic juices.
· Fat soluble vitamins: ADEK, Water soluble: B & C
· Descending loop of Henle: only water goes out, Ascending loop: only salts go out
· Gap junctions are present in both cardiac and smooth muscles but not skeletal.
· Ca2+ binds to troponin. ATP binds to myosin heads to detach it from actin.
· Penetrance is the proportion of population with a given phenotype who actually express the phenotype whereas expressivity is the different manifestations of the same genotype across the population.
· Genetic leakage is when individuals from a differnet but closely related species can mate to produce a hybrid offspring and therefore flow of genes occur between two species.
· Bottleneck effect: natural disaster, Founder Effect: a number of individuals of a population separate to form a new colony. Both these effects cause genetic drift in small populations.
· Eosinophils: parasitic infections, Basophils: allergies (histamine)
. Neutrophils (most abundant) & Basophils (least abundant)
· CD4+: MHC II, CD8+: MHC I, CD4: Supressor cells (autoimmune disorders)
· Gap junctions allow ions etc to pass through, desmosomes are used to anchor things together, tight junctions are used to prevent things to pass through. · Heisenberg: momentum & position, Hund’s rule: all orbitals should have at least 1 e, Pauli’s exclusion: opposite spin in paired electrons.
· DNA polymerase only adds nucleotides in the 5’ to 3’ direction.
· Anti sense (non coding) strand (3’ to 5’) is used for transcription.
· Methyguanosine cap at 5’ end and poly A tail at the 3’ end (post translational)
· Glucose-6-phosphate dehydorgenase is used in HMP shunt or PPP pathway. (2NADPH formed)
· Neglect syndrome: damage to the right parietal lobe, ignore left visual field
· Overt and Covert attention: Overt you move your eyes, covert you don’t
· Belief perseverance: still hold on to a belief despite new info to correct it. I’m fat (you’re not)
· Framing bias: the way inforation is presented (glass is half full/half empty)

Hi there,
I have congenital ptosis with my left eyelid, which means that I was born with no muscles in it, causing it to droop quite a bit. To somewhat correct this, I underwent surgery when I was 2 years old (I believe it was called a "fascia-lata"?), where the surgeons internally tied my eyelid to my eyebrow muscle. Therefore, to move my left eyelid whatsoever, I have to move my left eyebrow.
All this being said, most of the time when my eyes are closed, my left eye isn't quite shut. Because I'm now 40, almost 41, I've had over 38 years experience and training of automatically looking up, so my pupil is at least covered by the part of my eyelid that's actually down.
So, in order for me to fully close my left eyelid, I have to force (mildly, mind you) my left eyebrow down.
My question is, if I were to wear an eyepatch over my left eye, thus allowing me to 100% relax my eyebrows, can I still get the same effects from this if it's only in my right eye? I'm wondering if I could get some sort of semi-opaque eye patch, so I'd still see a bit of light through it, so both eyes would still be used.
I guess my question would also apply to anyone with a glass eye; can you use this app for its intended purpose successfully with only one eye seeing the flashes, assuming the other eye is seeing nothing?
Thanks in advance!

Hi all,
I am a PT coming up on my first full year of treating. I see various patient populations in a hospital based OP setting.
I have noticed a lot of my patients that come off as extraordinarily anxious, pain catastrophize, or just think everything hurts always have rapid eyelid fluttering when I have them close their eyes.
For example, a patient I evaled today shrieked in pain when performing UE MMT because of the pressure on the points of resistance during testing, but hardly any real pain noted at the joints being tested. I could tell she was very anxious and so I had her lay supine, and I taught her diaphragmatic breathing as she only appeared to breathe with her chest. I usually tell patient’s like this to close their eyes and feel their stomach raise. Like several patients before, I saw her eyelids vibrating/fluttering/shaking. It somewhat declined after a few minutes of deep breathing.
The minimal research I’ve done on this only comes up as eye twitching due to muscle tension, and I have found nothing in PT literature explaining the phenomenon. Have you seen this? Is there a name for this? Could this be worth tracking as she continues through her POC?
I have also seen this with my BPPV patients, and if they are not properly educated on their condition they seem to always develop more PPPD like symptoms.
Any thoughts or insight would be appreciated!

She greeted him with lips and an open mouth before he’d managed to shut the front door; a welcoming home he hadn’t received since they were still dating. The surprise assault nearly caused Mark to stumble backward into the hallway, but he recovered and returned the embrace in kind, relishing the feeling of her body and tongue against his. As she pulled away, he thought he detected a faint aftertaste on her breath—something unnatural hidden underneath, an earthy flavor that reminded him of potting soil. The taste was gone as soon as it had come, and he forgot about it in short order.
“Welcome home, babe,” Tracy said with a smile, and he smiled back.
“Well, that was nice,” he said, while his brain scrambled to attribute any significance to this day, a forgotten birthday or anniversary or any reason at all for the enthusiasm he’d been welcomed home with. He came up empty, conceded defeat and said, “What was that for?”
“I’ve just missed you, is all. I’m glad you’re home.” She was still smiling, her green eyes drinking him in like sunflowers in the first light of the morning. She waited for him to remove his shoes, then took his hand and pulled him into the warm glow of the kitchen and kissed him again in a fervent reminder of their youth. The taste was stronger this time; he thought it familiar but couldn’t place it. Bad breath, perhaps.
They passed through the kitchen into the dark of their living room, lit only by the cool white of the television. An old rerun of Tracy’s favorite sitcom was on, filling the room with bombastic voices and the intervallic laughs of a live studio audience. Mark jumped at the unexpected sight of a figure sitting on the couch—a woman with hands in her lap and an upright posture, her eyes glued to the TV without so much as an acknowledgment of their presence. Her face was a blank slate.
“Oh, sorry, I forgot to tell you Shelby is here,” Tracy said, motioning to her sister. “She wanted to come over and hang out for a while. Her husband has been fucking their underage neighbor. She walked in on them today.”
This tactless and matter-of-fact proclamation shocked Mark almost as much as the news itself. “Oh, Shelby, I’m so sorry,” he said. “Have you talked to the police yet?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Tracy said, waving an apathetic hand before sitting opposite her sister on the couch and patting the spot between them, grinning. “We’re all just going to relax and have a good time right now. Why don’t you come take a seat?”
Mark shifted on his feet but relented and walked over to sit. When he did, Tracy scooted over to him and put a hand on his thigh, whispering in his ear while lightly brushing his cheek with soft lips. It was something she knew he liked, at least when they were alone.
“Don’t you want to have a good time with me?” She said, planting a slow, deliberate kiss in front of his ear, following it up with a dab of her tongue. Her cool breath carried a strange smell to his nose, and the hair on Mark’s arms stood up despite himself. Tracy put a hand between his legs and gave him a firm squeeze.
Mark started like he’d received an electric shock and pulled his wife’s hand away, trying his best to whisper quietly enough for only her to hear. “What the hell are you doing?” he said, shooting a nervous glance at Shelby, who appeared unbothered.
“It’s fine, babe. I just can’t resist you. It’s not my fault you look so good,” Tracy whispered louder than him and tried snaking her hand back onto his crotch. It was all Mark could do to keep her at bay without alerting Shelby outright.
“Your sister is right there,” he said through gritted teeth. “And you just said she’s going through some shit. Just wait until later. You can have anything you want then.”
“Oh, there’s no way I can wait. You’re much too tempting for that. What do you say we go to the bedroom? I’m gonna give you something you’ll never forget.” Tracy moaned audibly and gnashed her teeth so hard Mark recoiled. He turned and looked at her with a bewildered expression, while hers was nothing short of ravenous.
“What is going on?” He asked her. “I’m not comfortable with this at all. Just wait until we’re alone!”
Tracy stood and looked down on him with crossed arms, not bothering to whisper. “I don’t care how comfortable you are. You’re my husband, and you’re going to give me what I want. I have to go to the bathroom. You have until I get back to lighten up and have a good time with me.” She walked to the back of the apartment in a huff.
Mark moved into Tracy’s old spot and stared at the ground. He wasn’t sure how much of that Shelby had seen and heard, but she’d surely heard something, and he had no idea what to say.
“It’s not her.” She spoke so quietly, and Mark had been so consumed with embarrassed thoughts that Shelby’s words didn’t register at first. When he realized she’d said something, he turned to her, and for the first time he noticed that she hadn’t moved since he’d walked in. Not one muscle. Not an inch.
“What did you say?” he asked her.
“It’s not her. She’s dead.”
The clunk of footsteps on the wooden floor in the kitchen preceded Tracy’s arrival, and she walked into the living room with a smile on her face, hands clasped behind her back.
Marks stomach sunk into a pit of ice at the sight of her hungry smile. “Alright, babe,” she said. “Let’s go to the bedroom. Shelby will be okay here alone for a little bit. I want you too badly to wait anymore.” Her smile widened, and a trail of green liquid ran from the corner of her mouth down her chin. She caressed her neck with her right hand, massaging slowly. “I want you, babe. You need to come give in to me. I won’t let you get away.”
Mark’s throat tightened as he turned to Shelby, who remained as motionless as ever and said nothing. He looked into the lustful eyes of Tracy, who winked and beckoned him to follow before walking back to their bedroom.
He didn't move at first. He felt like a python had squeezed the breath from his body, and he gasped and put a hand on his chest, attempting to gain control of his breathing.
“Come to me, dear husband!” A cry from the bedroom made him jump. But at these words, he accepted his fate. She was his wife, and she needed him. He would always love her.
He stood and walked into the kitchen. The apartment was dark, with the only light emanating from their bedroom, which sat with the door half-open at the end of the hallway.
Mark braced himself and walked towards it.

So, I got Bells 1.5 months ago. I had really bad pain on both sides behind my ear and thought I'd sleep it off and went to bed. Over the next day it progressed and the left side of my face dropped. I got in to see the doctor that day. I was given an anti viral and heavy dose of steroids for 10 days. The first few weeks were brutal with a heavy amount of fatigue, malaise feeling, a bit dizziness/disorientation and issues with sound. Stiff neck muscle pain and cramping and regular symptoms. All I wanted to do is lay on the couch or bed. I had another bit of pain behind the ear a few days in. The doc said that I had a mild case but it didn't really feel super mild. I got slightly worse over the next couple days and I couldn't close my eye and all the other regular symptoms.
I had a return of facial symmetry at about 3 or 4 weeks. People can't tell when they see me unless I make expressions or talk. The dizziness has subsided and I can handle noise now. My eye waters way less but still does a little. I had a bad annoying mumble which has started to clear up to where I can talk on a phone call and people can't really tell unless I am making a lot of "P" sounds. My eye can close 100% sometimes but often it's at an annoying 80-90%. I can't smile or move my eyebrow at all. I do seem to get a cold sort of tingling in my upper lip area and around the corner of my mouth with a very subtle twitch in my cheek. I can't tell if I'm fabricating these feelings or not? Eating seems to be somewhat better and I can drink through a straw now almost normally and pucker well enough to almost make a lame whistle. I'm past the 21 days everyone seems to talk about... but I still can't move my brow or smile. Any thoughts on how you can tell the severity of the issue?

Player Character

Reddit Account:TheLegend_NeverDies
Discord Tag: thelegend_neverdies
Name and House: Lyle Westerling
Age: 23
Cultural Group: Andal (Westerman)
Appearance: A lanky, stick-thin young man with sandy brown hair, Lyle is all easy smiles and nonchalance, yet there's a certain inscrutable mystery in the abyss of his dark brown eyes. An exemplar of the trend-setting western court, he is always clean-shaven and impeccably dressed in the crème-de-la-crème of courtly finery. He favors silken half-capes in exotic colors and rich doublets of velvet and lambswool in white, off-white, and sandy colors. He has delicate hands, bathes almost obsessively, and likes to perfume himself with the scent of cinnamon and oranges for the fair ladies of the court.
Trait: Steward
Skill(s): Avaricious (e), Architect (e), Scrutinous
Talent(s): Singing, Gambling, Playing the High Harp
Negative Trait(s): N/A
Starting Title(s): Steward of the Rock and Lord of The Crag
Starting Location: Opening Event

Auxillary Character

Name and House: Jon Westerling
Age: 23
Cultural Group: Andal (Westerman)
Appearance: Of an identical age and look to his twin brother, Jon differs in that he is noticeably muscled, with the lean but sturdy strength of a young knight. Jon, who seems to have an ever-present beard of stubble and tends to wear his hair in a ponytail, is just as popular at Lord Lancel's court as his brother, but he prefers to wear his simple sand-colored surcoat blazoned with seashells over indulging in the West's latest fashions.
Trait: Inspiring
Skill(s): Cavalryman, Riding, Andal Knight
Talent(s): Hunting, Dancing, Fishing
Negative Trait(s): n/a
Starting Title(s): Knight of Seashells, Captain of the Lannister House Guard, and Heir to the Crag
Starting Location: Opening Event

Bio-Timeline

3 BC - The heir to the Crag, Symond Westerling, weds Penelope Lannister in a grand ceremony at the sept in Lannisport. At the wedding ceremony, his younger brother Gormond very briefly met his future wife, the young lady Teora Reyne.
2 BC - The first child of their marraige, Jeyne Westerling, was born at the Crag. What should have been a good omen, however, spelled disaster. Not one moon after her birth did the Conqueror launch his glorious conquest of the Seven Kingdoms. Called up by his liege to do his duty and defend the realm from this pretender, Lord Walderan, his sons, and all their knights and levies rode to war. With their strength combined with that of the Reach, they had expected an easy victory. But never before had they seen dragons on the field.
Lord Westerling, as commander of the West's vanguard, was among of the battle's first casualties when a stray crossbow bolt felled his horse and caused the aging Walderan to break his neck underneath it. Had he only known the mercy he was spared. Symond, now Lord, did not halt the assault. Out of duty and mad vengeance, he led the Western forces further, even in the face of the three dragons that had, by now, taken flight. From his sick bed, Lord Symond often swore that he had been able to cut down four of Aegon's pikemen before the dragons came down upon them. Before the field erupted into flame and everything went dark.
1 BC - It was not for many moons after King Loren had already knelt to the Conqueror until Lord Symond woke again. Gormond had managed to rescue his older brother from the fire and organize as many of the Crag's men as he could for a desperate retreat through the rings of fire. He had saved hundreds of men that day, all men agreed. But whether he had truly saved his brother was in question. His face and body ruined by the grievous extent of his burns, a series of amputations were necessary to save Lord Westerling's life, but he was never quite the same man he had been prior.
0 AC - With the Conquest completed and Aegon upon his Iron Throne, life returned to some semblance of normalcy for many. But Symond's scars from that brief, glorious war would remain with him for the rest of his life. Kept on a near-constant supply of milk-of-the-poppy and dreamwine, he was in no condition to actually fulfill his duties as a lord. Lady Penelope and Ser Gormond decided to share the duties between themselves until Jeyne came of age.
1 AC - On one of his better days, Lord Symond, who had been unable to leave his solar for the past two years, finally managed to hobble to court, to the horror of his people. A man scarred and ruined, he nevertheless was determined to hear a few pleas of his people. Cautiously optimistic, Lord Westerling's mood soured when his daughter, whom he had previously hoped to hide the extent of his deformities, screamed and ran out of the room when she saw, "A monster on my father's throne!" Court soon adjourned, and Lord Symond, for the first time in years, went to bed with his wife.
2 AC - A small miracle of sorts touched the house with Penelope's birth of the twin boys Lyle and Jon. The knowledge that he had an heir had brought some joy back to the house and even to Symond himself, but his condition would only deteriorate as the years went on. Continually tended to by Lady Penelope, his lordship would remain largely sedated and absent from the lives of his children as they grew.
5 AC - Not all was morosity and gloom, however. Ser Gormond Westerling would meet Lady Teora Reyne at a small tourney in Feastfires, asking for her favor before his joust and talking to her at much greater length at the feast later that night, soon starting their brief and intense courtship. They would wed some moons later, eventually having two children of their own, Stafford and Eleyna.
7 AC - With the Stranger knocking at his door, Lord Westerling called his family to his solar one final time. The family that he had tried his very best to shield from him by self-imposed isolation and the endless reading of old histories and holy books. He wore a mask of fused seashells as he told his children of his pride in them, of his hope that they would carry on without him. But before he died, he insisted that his heir take one final parting gift from him. At that, Lord Symond removed his seashell mask, gave it to his five-year-old heir and said, "Boy. Look at me. This is what those silver-haired freaks and their demon abominations have wrought! Guard yourself well... lest they do it to you."
8-20 AC - Lord Symond was dead, but his parting words had left an impact on his children. As Lyle buried himself in books and lessons from Maester Boros, Jon practiced with mount and blade with Uncle Gormond, while Lady Penelope trained her daughter in courtly etiquette and saw to it that House Westerling maintained its close connections with the Lannisters, of the Rock and Lannisport both. In that time, the Westerlings soon found themselves inducted into the court of the Rock, the boys in particular became close friends to the young heir to the Rock, Lancel Lannister, and soon became regular visitors to the Rock and makers of mayhem in Lannisport.
Jeyne, meanwhile, happened across the widowed Lord Baelor Belaerys of Aegon's Rest himself at some tourney, feast or other, and soon found herself enamored of the dragonlord. Despite Jeyne's fears that her mother or uncle would forbid the match due to his status as a prominent valyrian dragonlord, they, to her great surprose, acquiesced. And so she married the Lord of Aegon's Rest in 16 AC and bore him his new heir two years later.
21-25 AC - As the Westerling twins became the constant companions of their good friend Lancel, "maturing" with the rowdy and party-loving lad every step of the way, they eventually each found themselves prominent places at court once Lancel ascended and became officially Lord Lancel. Lyle was named the Rock's Lord Treasurer and Jon as Lancel's Captain of the Guard. To this day, House Westerling are considered the Lord of the Rock's most tireless supporters, with the twins counting among his most loyal men.

Family Tree

House Westerling

Supporting Characters

Gormond Westerling - General
Stafford Lannister - Warrior