Sore throat and achy jaw

Symptoms: high fever (103-104, currently 100.4 at the time of posting), headache, sore throat, occasional light coughing, randomly shivering for ~10 minutes, and sometimes extra saliva
Starting a few days ago, I got sick from something. It was minor at first, with just a headache, but yesterday morning I woke up with a fever of 103. From what I've heard and read, that's bad. It wouldn't go down for a while from Ibuprofen or a cold bath. I layed down to wait for a ride to the doctor's, fell asleep, and woke up with it down to roughly 98. The docters tested for strep and it came back negative, and did nothing else other than to tell me to let it run it's course. I then went home and went to bed again early that night. I woke up in the middle of the night with a fever of 103.8, soon 104. I took more ibuprofen and layed back down under the fan and it went down about an hour and a half later. I just want to know what's wrong. I don't have my tonsils, and I rarely get sick anymore and when I do it's minor and doesn't last for very long. Ik I'm over reacting, but I'm just scared. Any information on how to help with the symptoms and what I might be infected with would be very appreciated.

Has anyone else experienced a super sore throat from progesterone in oil injections? I'm on 2ml daily and since starting last Sunday have developed an irritated throat which my clinic says might be a side effect. Anyone else who's dealt with this have any tips? I feel like I'm about ready to cough up a lung and even though I'm pretty sure this won't affect implantation since I don't have a fever, I'm very nervous. Thanks in advance!

I first started noticing that something was wrong around 3 months ago. At the time, I was working from home and would usually light a scented candle while I worked, which usually helped me relax and stay focused on my work. I would usually burn through a candle a week, but over time, the candles started to take less time to fully burn up. At first, I thought that this was because of a change in ingredients the company that made the candles used, but the problem persisted after I switched candle brands, which I once again blamed on the candle manufacturers.
I kept this belief for another week until the first incident. While getting up from my computer desk, which faces away from the candle, to take a quick bathroom break, I caught a glimpse of the lit candle. A two-inch layer of molten wax rested on another three-inch layer of solid wax, the wicks rising out at first and being somewhat visible through the molten layer, finally breaking the surface and being slowly burned away. The flames flickered as I swung the door open and walked out of the room. When I returned 10 minutes later, the molten layer was gone, and the wicks had been shortened so that the flames rested right above the solid layer of the wax. At first, I thought that the glass jar that contained the candle was leaking, but after a short inspection, I was only able to find two small drops of candle wax that had solidified right next to the candle on the bedside table. I still had 2 hours of work left to do, but I was too lost in thought and was unable to do any work for the rest of the day.
Every night before I go to sleep, I like to read for at least 30 minutes, and while reading, I usually light a candle. Around 4 days later, I had mostly forgotten about the incident and went back to using candles. Due to my naivety, it returned.
I fell asleep while reading with a candle lit on my bedside table. I woke up to loud slurping noises. As I opened my eyes, the brightness of the light I had not turned off almost blinded me. As my eyes tried to readjust to the light and focus on what was in front of me, I saw a somewhat humanoid dark gray to light blue blur that contrasted with the white paint on the walls behind it. Another gray line stretched from the shape's head to the candle on my bedside table. I could feel my heart skip five consecutive beats. I opened my mouth and tried to force out a scream for help, but the pressure I applied to my throat was way beyond what it was able to handle, leading me to only produce a light wheezing sound. I tried to sit up or to at least prop myself up, but my muscles failed me. Trying to push myself up with my arms felt impossible. As I stared at the figure that had suddenly appeared in my room, my eyes finally managed to focus, making it possible for me to see the intruder who was now staring at me. The figure was a man at least 7 feet tall, fully naked; he looked bloated; his eyes were bloodshot and looked like they would pop out of their sockets; at any point, his skin was a grayish light blue.
HIS LIPS
His lips extended from his mouth like an elephant's trunk, which had been split in half. The lips extended from the man's face to the candle; the flames had been put out. He was using his lips as a makeshift straw, slowly sucking up all the molten wax from the candle, which had fully liquified while I was asleep. I laid in bed, unable to move, unable to scream for help, staring until he emptied the jar. His lips retracted back to his face, the molten wax solidifying on their tips and cracking, flakes of wax falling off the man's lips and falling to the floor. The man grinned, staring at me. The ridges and gaps between the teeth were filled in with wax, making it impossible to make out where one tooth ended and the next one began. The man opened the door he was standing next to, but instead of walking out of the room, he stepped behind it. His face peered at me from above the door, and then once again, like he had done to drink the wax, the man puckered his lips, which stretched from his mouth and floated to me. I shook and tried to roll over away from him. I wanted to get up and run, but my fear had taken over my body. Tears flowed from my eyes. He kissed me on the cheek, leaving flakes of wax and light moisture. He retracted his lips and lowered his head behind the door.
I don't remember falling asleep, but when I woke up, I saw the empty glass jar, which at one point contained the candle. Even though I had hoped that what had happened was a dream, it wasn't. I still had flakes of wax on my cheek, and on my bedroom floor, the wax in the jar had disappeared. I called the police, but they were unable to find anyone in my apartment; they also could not find any evidence of a break-in.
After the break-in, I started looking for a new apartment to move to, thinking that the man was tied to the building I was in, but even though I had thrown out all of my candles, I could not stomach spending another hour in my apartment, constantly looking over my shoulder or walking around with my back pressed up against the wall to not allow it to creep up on me. Thankfully, my friend Emma was able to let me stay over at her apartment while I looked for a new one for myself.
Me and Emma have been friends since we were 8, and we've been there to support each other when times get rough. This isn’t the first time I've had to stay over at her house for an extended amount of time; in fact, I have had to stay over at Emma’s as many times as she has had to stay over at my apartment, whether it was because of evictions after losing a job, breakups, or a candle wax drinking squatter. I didn't even know if it was human. I mean, sure, it looked like one, but human lips are not supposed to do what his did, and somehow it didn't have a reaction to molten wax being poured down its esophagus. I didn't tell Emma about what happened—the details at least—I just told her that a man had broken into my house and was watching me sleep. The only people I told the truth to were my therapist and the cops, and all of them disregarded what I told them as my mind making things up after a traumatic event.
For a while, I believed what they said—I mean, why wouldn’t I?—but then I started seeing him again. For a few days, I thought it was my mind playing tricks on me again like it had done during the night of the incident. For split seconds out of the corner of my eye, I would see the outline of a tall, bloated figure. At first, they were hours apart, but after a while, it became constant. He was standing in each room I passed, in every single dark corner I glanced past, and then he spoke.
“FeeD MeEeee”
It stood in the kitchen, peering over from a small gap between the fridge and the sink, where the trash can that had been knocked over onto its side usually stood. His voice was raspy, and every word that came out of his mouth was distorted as if he were gargling water, but still, I could somehow clearly make out each word he said from over 15 feet away.
“Please just leave me alone I… why are you following me?”
I shouted at the figure, the same fear that had taken over my body during the night I saw him for the first time paralyzing me, making it impossible for me to move anything other than my eyes, eyelids, and mouth.
“i’M sTarviNg, I nEEd You To FeEd ME”
It replied again. Now, stepping out from behind the fridge, he stepped directly onto a rotten banana. Its mushy brown content’s seeping out of the peel under the pressure of his decomposing foot, which was covered in scabs, and took up the same grayish light blue color as the rest of his body. He mostly looked the same; his bloodshot eyes bulged from their sockets, but now his tongue was swollen. It peeked out from between his bloated, cracked gray lips; it stared at me, waiting for an answer.
“Ok, I’ll.. I’ll feed you, but please just... leave me alone.”
I replied, the tone of my voice shifting into high-pitched squeals with every quick breath I took. He looked satisfied by my response. He somehow squeezed his bloated body back into the gap that was at least four times smaller than him. After peering over at me from above the fridge, he bent over backwards, his spine releasing a series of sickening cracks until he was fully obscured by the fridge, and then he vanished.
Still barely in control of my body, I limped over to the couch tucked away in the back corner of the living room, it took me at least 10 minutes to steady my breathing and 20 more to fully regain control of my body again but as soon as I did I ran out the house and to the nearest store, during the 15-minute walk he stared at me through dark windows and the backs of cars, peered out at me from gaps between leaves in the trees and bushes, he even followed me into the store staring at me from the middle of deserted isles before disappearing right before my eyes were able to fully catch him, once I finally got the candles I randomly picked four off of the shelves and rushed to the self checkout.
When I arrived home, I had 2 hours before Emma got off work. I didn't want to feed it while she was home, and I didn't want her to see it. I pulled out two of the candles from the black plastic bag and placed them on the kitchen table, the first a light blue candle named “Garden Rain” and the second a red candle named “Juicy Watermelon." I pulled out a lighter from one of the drawers Emma used after her stove stopped lighting on its own and lit each of the 6 wicks on the candles. As soon as I started seeing the wax melt under the heat of the burning wicks, I dropped the lighter onto the table next to the candles and ran out of the room. I could not stomach seeing that thing again; even just thinking about it made me shudder and hyperventilate. The paralyzing fear that seeing him caused me made me want to vomit.
At least 30 minutes later I started to hear it drink even though the living room and kitchen were separated by a wall, even though I had closed the door I could still hear what at first started as slurping sounds which were followed up by loud gulps, then it stopped, and once again 30 minutes later it started drinking, as the slurping started once again I heard the door to the apartment crack open, it was Emma, as she stepped through the door I saw her carrying two large brown paper bags of groceries in her hands, she was headed to the kitchen.
“Hey let me grab those for you”
I said running over to her, my voice shaking.
“Oh, thanks. Are you… okay, you look scared?”
My eyes shot wide open in a mixture of fear and surprise. I said the first thing that came to mind.
“Yeah just umm… I didn't expect you to come home so early and I got a bit spooked”
“shit sorry, I know I should have called you, work let me off early today,”
I started to turn away from her walking to the kitchen.
Trying to keep her away from the kitchen I told her to wait for me in the living room because I wanted to talk to her about something. I didn't know what I would talk to her about but that was a problem for future me to resolve, somehow it worked.
“What's that sound?”
She called out to me while walking towards the living room couch. It took me a few seconds to come up with an excuse.
“I think it’s the sink, or the pipes at least”
I opened the door to the kitchen with my eyes closed at first hesitant to look knowing what would be greeting me. slowly prying my eyes open I started to see its outline, my muscles started to lose strength as the details of the man came into my view, I felt the grocery bags start to slip from my arms, my knees buckled, face first I fell onto the kitchen floor scattering the groceries all over the floor, I mixture of a light scream and a yelp escaped from my mouth as my body made contact with the floor, Emma concerned for my safety ran into the kitchen, she didn't scream, using all of the strength and mobility I had left in my muscles I rolled over expecting to see her face drenched in terror, her body frozen still unable to move just like my body had done the first time that I saw him, but Emma looked concerned, the man was gone, she crouched down beside me.
“Oh my god are you ok? What happened?”
I looked around observing my surroundings.
“I um… I… I tripped on the little thing at the bottom of the doorframe”
I finally managed to blurt out another excuse, not being able to remember what the name of a door sill was. I started to sit up using a part of the energy that had returned to my body, pain pulsed through my chest and arms, Emma looked at me with a concerned face.
“You've been acting really weird since I got home, are you sure you're ok?”
“Yeah… I think I’m just having one of those days you know”
The confusion on Emma’s face said that she didn’t know and to be honest I didn't either, I guess my luck of pulling random excuses out of my ass ran out, Emma thought that she triggered some sort of PTSD response after barging into the house unannounced at first apologizing then trying to change the subject to stop my trembling which I was still unsuccessfully trying to hide from her.
“Did you buy candles?”
Emma asked picking the groceries apart from the garbage that spilled out the can that the man had knocked over, placing them on the table next to the now half-empty glass jars, the flames flickered above the inch or so of molten wax the man was unable to finish drinking.
“Yeah I’ve been struggling with work lately, they usually help me focus”
“Huh Interesting combination you’ve got going on here”
She looked at me and smiled slightly, I smiled back and chuckled to seem normal.
“Yeah even I don't know what I was trying to accomplish here, to be honest”
I tried to help Emma clean up the spilled groceries but she did not let me, she told me that I needed to recover like I had been in a car crash instead of having taken a little tumble. After a few seconds of silence, Emma spoke again.
“Anyway, what did you want to talk to me about earlier?”
A quick jolt of stress shot through my body, in a jumbled mess of lies and fear I had forgotten what I had told Emma, I sat there in silence for a few seconds unable to come up with an excuse
“I…umm… I don’t remember, it wasn't anything serious though”
“Damn did you hit your head too?”
She said once again proudly smiling at her joke.
At this point Emma picked up the last bag of potato chips from the floor and placed it on the table, then she opened the fridge and started loading the groceries into it.
“Anyway I gotta go get back to work’’
I blurted out after a few more seconds of awkward silence.
“Alright well good luck”
I walked over into the living room and sat down in front of my workstation, which now consisted of a laptop sitting on a small foldable TV tray that had just barely enough room left on it to fit a small USB mouse.
The last thing I remember, before I fell asleep, was me mindlessly scrolling through apartment listings while Emma watched a random 90’s horror movie I’m positive only had a budget of $500.
I woke up with a light stinging pain shooting through my dry throat, and a dim hissing sound caused by thousands of water drops striking the ground outside filled the room. I pressed the spacebar on my laptop, the brightness of the screen blinding me temporarily, after taking a few seconds to let my eyes readjust I managed to make out the time, 3:45 AM. A strong smell I was unable to make out the origin of assaulted my nostrils. Lavender.
The smell hitting my nose had the same effect on me that I would expect smelling salts would have on a weightlifter right before they set a world record. Before I knew it my legs were moving on their own at an almost uncontrollable pace, fighting back against my mind which was telling them to slow down after years of being used to navigating both mine and Emma’s apartment as steadily as possible to not bother the neighbors.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity I stood before Emma’s bedroom door, a faint, yellow, pulsating light radiated from a lamp and snuck out of a small gap between the door and the doorframe, reluctantly I pushed my left hand up against the door, my right hand grasping onto the door frame for a sense of stability, once the door was fully agape I scanned the inside of the room my heart skipping a beat for every humanoid shadow cast up onto the wall by the lights from the wicks which were set ablaze and were being slowly burnt away.
I walked into Emma’s room and made my way over to her bedside table to put out the candle, as I stepped closer towards her, her face became more defined, I could finally make out her features, she was awake, but no she could not have been, even though her eyes were wide open they never blinked, she didn't even move slightly, as I moved closer I finally managed to fully make out the expression of pure terror on her face, her mouth wide agape as if she was about to release a deafening screach, but she could not have, a single drop of solidified wax dribbled out of the corner of her mouth and clung to her cheek, my eyes traced the cream colored path back towards her mouth, first up her cheek then between the corner of her mouth and finally behind her teeth, there instead of her tongue or the roof of her mouth I saw a wall of wax which had filled in the entirety of her mouth.
I fell to my knees and hunched forward supporting my body weight with my arms, I was too late, I resisted the urge to vomit and got back up onto my feet, a mixture of tears and snot slid down my face and onto my lips, shaking now I slowly started limping over towards my phone which I had left on the couch next to where I had awoken just minutes before, just minutes before my life was destroyed because of my lies if I had just told Emma what I had gone through, if I had just told her what had happened on the night of the incident which now seemed trivial, even if she thought that I was crazy, I know that she would have complied just to make me feel comfortable.
It took me at least 30 seconds of repeated attempts to stabilize my hands enough to properly dial 911. “Someone broke into my apartment and hurt my friend” was the only reasonable explanation I could come up with that would not get the operator to hang up on me thinking that this was a prank call.
I sat there in the living room for an agonizing 10 minutes, crying, my sadness slowly transformed into anger towards myself, and my mind raced thinking of all the lies I’d told, I kept thinking that if I had just told her the truth she would not have been laying there in her bed, her body bloated, “every single orifice has signs of forced penetration and has been filled with what seems to be candle wax” is what was written on her autopsy report.
For a few days I was the main suspect in Emma’s murder, but due to the almost unstoppable crying and the unresponsive state that I was in when the police arrived, mixed with the lack of evidence of me having a way to produce 30 pounds of candle wax led to me being released out of police custody, but because I was the main suspect I was not told any details about what had fully happened to Emma, for days all I had to work off of was the image of her face frozen in terror, and a short glance I caught of her bloated body as she was being carted out on a stretcher.
I recounted every single word of our last conversations over and over again until they became permanently etched into my brain.
Emma’s parents originally wanted to cremate her, as that is what she had somewhat jokingly asked for whenever the topic of funerals came up, well she had joked about wanting to have had unpopped popcorn shoved down her throat before she was sent off to “scare the shit out of the guy cremating me” but due to all the wax which would have been impossible to get out of her body they were forced to bury her.
A few days before Emma’s funeral her body disappeared.
After Emma’s death, her parents took me into their home, after reading the autopsy reports and seeing her corpse they had thrown out every single candle they owned which made their home the safest choice I had, still, this did not stop me from buying a machete and keeping it under my bed, just in case.
I was laying on the bed in their guest bedroom The day that the police informed Emma’s parents about her disappearance, the bedroom is right above the front porch of the house, at first I heard them ring the doorbell which was followed up by 3 powerful knocks on the door, for about a minute I laid there on the bed listening to muffled voices exchanging distorted words I was barely able to make out which slowly transformed into distorted weeps, curious I lifted myself up from the bed, made my way over to the window and carefully lifted the bottom panel making Shure to not make too much noise, the distorted muffled sounds started forming into coherent words “We checked the security footage but the only strange thing we could see was a 5 second time jump” one of the officers spoke in a serious and almost monotone voice “which meant that the security guard who was the only person in the building had to climb down 2 flights of stairs walk through a 40 foot long hallway and then drag her body back up stairs and out of the building in 5 seconds” Emma’s mom let out yelp “ but don’t worry ma'am that’s actually good news because we know that her corpse is still somewhere within the building and was probably brought to the wrong floor by an intern, we’ve already warned all of the staff at the hospital to keep an eye out, and we also sent 5 officers to search the hospital”
I could not believe what I was hearing, my breathing quickened, but this time instead of fear I felt anger, that fucker stole her corpse and was probably in the weird separate plane of existence he always went back to after terrorizing me, cutting off chunks of her body, melting her, and drinking her.
I closed the window Emma’s mom's cries once again turned into a muffled rumble which was only possible to make out if you knew what to look for, I took a few steps back away from the window planning to lay back down, not wanting to bother Emma’s parents. I bumped into something, not something, someone, its fleshy towering form as solid as a wall sent me tumbling forward, I knew it was him, he had returned to take me too, to stretch his swollen cracked lips, push them down my esophagus, fill my lungs and stomach with wax. But despite all of that this time I was not scared, I was angry, and I was not going to stand there in terror like I had the last time I saw him.
I fell forward onto my knees my face missing the window sill just by mere inches, I put my hands onto the floor, lifted one of my knees, and rotated 180 degrees now facing the monster, to the right of him pushed up against the wall was the bed, light from the sun reflected off of the metallic button which kept my machete in it’s sheathe, the man started to stretch his lips, they were moving towards me, waving a wiggling through the air like a snake slithering towards me.
I dove towards the bed one of my feet pushing off of the floor and the other pushing against the wall which creaked under the pressure applied to it, I flew for a few moments before slamming down onto the carpet and sliding forward, the heat generated by my skin brushing against the carpet released a sharp stinging pain throughout my body, my outstretched arm landed just a few inches short of the machete, I quickly bent my arms, pushing my body up and crawled towards the machete. my fingers wrapped around the handle I spun around, my back pushed up against the bedside table, once again facing the man, he was still facing the window but his lips faced me and were just a few feet away from me, for what felt like minutes but was most likely no longer than a second, I struggled to hook my finger under the strap securing the machete into its sheath, as the lips inched towards me the man started producing gurgling noises, he was regurgitation wax.
I finally pulled the machete out of its sheath, I swung the blade at the man's lips, the blade was not met with any resistance as it sliced through the man’s lips which landed on the carpeted floor with an audible thud, the man did not have a physical reaction to my counter-attack, his lips kept creeping towards me, once again I slashed at the lips, still no reaction, I repeated this at least 3 more times.
I wanted to kill him, I wanted to take revenge for what he had done to Emma, but fighting back was pointless. I realized that no matter how much I tried to hurt it, I could not kill him, I could not get rid of him.
My rage dissipated and a mixture of fear and sadness crept in, and soon took over my body, I screamed for help, I screamed in fear, in agony, tears streamed down my face as the man's lips finally reached my face, he wasn’t met with any resistance as his lips snuck between mine, pried my jaw open and finally started to slide down my esophagus.
I heard the cops run up the stairs, they started banging on the door asking if I was okay only to have been met with muffled screams, hot wax started to pour down inside of me, the stinging pain of the heat made me want to plunge the machete which I had dropped onto the ground next to me into my stomach to create a gaping wound that the wax would hopefully funnel out of, the texture of the man's slippery, oily lips matched with the poison like flavor of the wax caused me to start gagging, I felt my insides bulging like at any moment my intestines would have been filled to the point where they would pop, I wanted to vomit, the drain myself of the filth I was filled with, but his lips had plugged my throat not allowing anything to get out.
Hearing my muffled screams the cops started kicking the door down, the man retracted his lips, the suction aided my attempts at cleansing my insides, I got onto my hands and knees streams of molten wax pouring out of me, solidifying on the the carpet, with another loud thud the door swung open slamming into the wall, the man was gone.
That’s the last thing I remember before I passed out, but according to one of the doctors who was in the ambulance that brought me to the hospital, I was still semi-responsive during the first 10 minutes of the ride to the hospital.
Approximately 13.4 pounds of wax were removed from my body, the doctors said that I was in a critical condition and some of them did not expect me to make it.
One of the officers who was there the day the man attacked me took a report of what had happened to me, due to the unmistakable evidence of what had happened to both me and Emma, and the fact that this was the 3rd instance of me reporting something like this the police finally started investigating who this man might have been.
Around a month later I was discharged from the hospital and once again have been staying in the living room of Emma’s parent's house.
I’ve been seeing the man again, candles were not allowed in the hospital I stayed at, which means that he’s probably very hungry, he’s close to attacking me again, I know it, he wants to finish what he started and I don't know if I have the power to fight back, I’m not sure if defeating him is even possible, I’m tired.
I’ve been seeing Emma too, her bloated, reanimated corpse often appears to be standing next to the man. If I let him take me will I get to join them? I’ve tried asking but they don’t answer, they just stare, I can’t keep living in constant fear, always looking over my shoulder, I miss Emma.

I recently got a sore throat and I work as a breakfast attendant meaning I work around food daily. I didn’t feel comfortable going in because I mean no shit I’m sick and I’m a hazard to families and employees. The company is completely understaffed, it’s like 8 of us throughout the building. Anyways I called in sick yesterday and she told me “I don’t have anyone else I need you to come in” …uh no. Why would you encourage your employee to commit a safety violation? And whose fault is it that you’re understaffed? Not me. In the beginning of me working for this company I was told as a food worker if I’m sick stay home. And I took that into consideration, I need to call out again today because my nose is running horribly and my breathing isn’t great either. This will be the second day, do you think it’s acceptable for me to call out again today? Mind you this is a resort position with employee housing so you would think if people here gave a fuck about their employees they’ll have medical check ups.

So I’ve always picked at my skin and scalp but it has gotten so bad. I never got pimples on my neck and right under my jaw line until recently. They started to show and of course I popped them then more and more showed up and I got them on my face and it left horrible sores. Recently I’ve been trying to avoid picking at them by putting acne patches on them. Now I have this pain/soreness on my throat when I look up. Anyone experienced throat pain from neck acne? Or something similar?

In October 2023, I got Strep Group A. It was definitely the worst bout for me symptom-wise. I couldn’t swallow anything without immense pain, and I was very nauseous. After my antibiotic treatment (Penicillin), my main symptoms all went away except I continued to have the chills. I went in for another test once the chills became unbearable at night and a mildly sore throat, a month after I started my 10 day antibiotic course. The rapid test came back negative.
On Thanksgiving, I had an incredibly sore throat much like last time but was less feverish. I got tested, my rapid test came back negative but my throat culture tested positive for Group B. I went through a 10 day course of Amoxicillin, and I never really felt better weeks after.
Both of the previous labs were administered by my university’s student health center. The semester had ended, so I went to MedStar’s walk in to get another throat culture as I still had the same symptoms with the new addition of chest pain. To quote the NP I saw at MedStar
“Your symptoms do not meet the scorecard. You’re 23, you have the body of a BMW and you will be fine.”
… I get younger people are naturally healthier but, what a dismissively crass thing to say. Also, I’m not built like that I’m in skinny fat with a pronounced muffin top lmao.
With that being said, she refused to administer a throat culture to make sure I still don’t have Group B despite pleading with her that my symptoms have not changed, along with the addition of chest pains. I continued to have the same symptoms for months, but the chest pains went away by the new year.
I’ve felt somewhat better since, but the occasional sore throat and chills weren’t uncommon. Actually, I’ve gotten chills pretty much everyday but seemingly only when I lay down in bed at night.
Fast forward to the end of April, my tongue was in splitting pain with a sore throat and I decided to get tested. I came back to my home town where I saw an NP in the walk in… she believed it was post nasal drip but she administered a throat culture upon my request and it turned out I had strep again, Group G this time. So thankful they agreed to give me a throat culture.
They prescribed a 5 day Azithromycin antibiotic course, which I finished on May 1st and mostly everything went away except the chills. Last weekend on the 13th, my sore throat and fever came back so I went back to the walk in, just got my results today that I still have Strep, but they can’t identify which group other than it or being Group A. I have been prescribed a 10 day course of amoxicillin.
My mind is spinning… what in the actual hell is going on?
*Something else I find strange… throughout these times when I didn’t know I had strep even though I did including last month, none of the people I have shared a vape with, a drink with, or kissed have gotten sick.
I can’t see an ENT for months because of the healthcare system, and I’m rightfully getting worried. Having strep for at least a month, and god knows for how long if Group B never went away, is making me concerned about rheumatic fever. I’m really uneasy and anxious about all of this.
Important to note, when I was taking my antibiotic courses the previous 3 times, I really screwed up and was drinking heavily while on them. I had developed alcoholism the same month when I first contracted Strep. I was not considerate or knowledgeable of how alcohol would interact with the antibiotics, and I will not be drinking on this course and I’m really hoping this will help. My throat has had small red bulging spots since October that have never went away, and it’s making me concerned that Strep has been present in my system since and simply hasn’t gone away.
I am also a chronic vaper, which could seemingly line up with my frequency to strep over the last few months. I’m treating my vape like my toothbrush head, getting rid of them.
Am I tweaking for being worried rheumatic fever? And is it strange that I’m prone to multiple groups of strep, or is this reasonable for someone with a weakened immune system? Am I tweaking for being dismissively compared to a BMW because of my age when in fact I’m built more like a 2010’s Mitsubishi?

I am beyond frustrated. The Dr says if I'm not that bad we can go ahead with the surgery but I'm having my doubts. I'm getting a 1.2 cm bosniak 4 cyst taken out of my left kidney with robot surgery.
From what I understand it's really not a horrible procedure but I really don't think I want to be blowing my nose while I'm recovering. I don't have a cough but I've only been sick since Wed and I could develop one.
I've had this shit 3 times this year. Starts with a sore throat for 4-5 days on day 4 I start getting head congestion. But this time I'm also having body aches and a slight head ache. I've been taking 2-3 showers a day to warm up. I don't have a fever. I've tested negative for covid twice now.
My appointment is 40 mins away and I have to be there at 5:15 am. I'm doing the liquid diet right now and that's not too bad.
What would you do? Go through with it? Or cancel? I have pet sitting lined up and a friend coming from out of state to help for a couple days. I had to do quite a bit of planning for this whole thing.

“Oh! Well isn’t that just swell.”
Gaito sighs, tossing an orange pill bottle into the trash before turning to cough into his arm. He suppresses the fit that wants to take him, returning to his bed just as a migraine settles in his skull. He groans, doubling over and burying his face in the sheets, hoping the coolness of them will help. It doesn’t.
“God, why now…” he mutters, rubbing his temples. As much as he loves pain, he doesn’t like it nearly as much when it isn’t being purposely inflicted on him.
He crawls back under the covers, burying his face into the pillow as he fails to fight a second coughing fit. He hacks and trembles for a solid few minutes before he settles, throat sore and mind muddled. He’d need to make more medicine in the coming days…
For now, all he really wanted to do was melt into his bedsheets, but that wasn’t much of an option, huh?
[Open RP for Bratva and associates.]

Just found this subreddit and would love some advice. My baby got a cold from daycare and I got it from him. I thought it just the typical cold, some congestion, sore throat. By end of day 1,(Tuesday) I was shivering from a fever and my throat hurt like crazy. Ibuprofen helped the fever and after a couple days my throat got better. However the entire time I had the worst congestion I've ever had. I have to blow my nose every ten minutes, sometimes even less, and it's always lots of thick yellow green mucus. I've been taking mucinex and chugging water. It's now Saturday night, so five days, and the congestion has not gotten any better. I'm surprised at how much mucus comes out each time I blow my nose and it's still the yellow green color. There's even some pressure under my eye even though it doesn't look swollen. Does this mean it could be bacterial? I'm so miserable and baby is still sick, I feel so bad I have no energy to take care of him the way I would if I wasn't sick. My husband has been doing everything.

After months of my practitioners barely giving me enough medicine to keep the yeast at bay following multiple rounds of powerful antibiotics. They said I qualified for the appointment based on the duration of my symptoms and the yeast not responding to traditional care. I have tested negative for STIs, autoimmune disorders, and multiple scans of my body have revealed absolutely nothing. Most of my tests have returned negative for yeast despite obvious yeast as witnessed by myself and several doctors.
My symptoms
Oral thrush mostly on tongue Burning tongue Sore throat Sore glands
Anal itching and discomfort Red yeast rashes Pain
Vaginal thrush Constant tingling and itching sensation across entire vaginal area
Severe low back and pelvic pain Occurs randomly Shoots down legs Hard to tell if nerve or muscular Started at same time as yeast
Symptoms flare with alcohol and sugar and with sweating
Has anyone gone to ID and had a successful encounter? I feel like this yeast is slowly killing me.

Because it’s too early for Wednesday Whinge.
Is it just me or is everyone sick at the moment? There’s been viruses and covid flying around my workplace offices - both city and regional.
I came down with a sore throat last Sunday, which turned into fever, muscle aches and dry cough with green muck coming up from my lungs. Negative covid tests. Saw a gp last Thursday, got sent for a swab (still awaiting results) and started on antibiotics as I started going down hill.
Been literally coughing up my lungs every night to the point I can’t sleep. Lungs are too tired to keep coughing. I’ve not been sick for over a year and this is something else.
Anyone else experiencing a virus like this at the moment? Going on day 8 and not significantly better.

I was having jaw pain super dull it’s something that has came and gone, pressing on it felt like a sore muscle but nothing too bad. I started massaging it &’ BOOM the pain went away. Instantly my mind went to fear. Fear that “what if I had an abscess” “what if I just gave myself sepsis” omg my heart rate was boosting instantly and then the panic kicked in my chest &’ i got up so quickly my heart started pounding even felt on the back of my head.
Not going to lie I almost health anxiety spiraled. Also I’m still super scared but I’m trying really hard to focus on my breathing.😭

Afab, 15, 108 lbs, I noticed I suddenly have some new tiny moles on my cheek under my eye and I think it’s skin cancer bc skin cancer gives you moles. Ik it’s skin cancer and I can’t get it ruled out and also my throat and jaw feels tight, like I’m being strangled also for some reason I keep getting really bad night sweats, like REALLY bad. Sometimes I wake up so sweaty that my clothes and bed are wet. I think it gets worse when I eat something that makes me sleep but idk, I don’t remember getting sweaty in my sleep last night but I’m gonna die

My husband just had transsphenoidal surgery 6 days ago. We've been in the ICU for awhile because of a CSF leak. The past couple of days he's been complaining of a sore throat that keeps worsening, to the point where he can't eat or swallow and is in a lot of pain. Did anyone else experience this?

This is going to be a long post but whatever, some doctors think i do, others dont, others are confused as shit and when i ask if i have hEDS they go ‘well no?’ And then when i ask ‘so i domt have hEDS?’ And they go ‘well no you do, you have hypermobile syndrome’ (trying to translate best i can, in portuguese its confusing. They say no to hEDS but also say no to not having it)
Anyways here some are my syproms, id appreciate your thoughts and shit and if i should contimue trying to figure this out or not. Its going to be another 8 months before i can dream of seeing a specialist so yeah. Thanks a lot. I removed the pics because its a lot of pics and i guess you guys get the gyst of it

• Hyper mobility/unknown conective tissue disorder related symptoms:
  • Blood pooling (picture inserts bellow)
  • 7/9 beightons scale
  • Meeting the 2017 diagnostic criteria (1, 2b, 2c, 3)
  • Skin writing
  • Popping joints back into place
  • Semi loss of bladder control leading to a few incidents and going to the bathroom up to 10x a day
  • Extreme muscle fatigue in my joints leading to severe nerve pain and muscle spasms that have lead me to uncontrollably bash my knees against tables, jerk my arms and throw pencils across rooms or to the floor and then searing nerve pain that makes my muscle feel as if its on fire
  • Either feeling constipated or having dhiarea with no aparent reason
  • POTS partly caused veins not being able to constrict due to lax conective tissue which then causes nausea and even with medication because my heart isnt beating as fast i still get light headed and blood pressure drops
  • Research on the conection between POTS and conective tissue disorders such as EDS for reference:
    • https://www.standinguptopots.org/EDS
    • https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC7282488/
    • https://normalyte.com/blogs/news/the-eds-pots-connection
    • https://connect.mayoclinic.org/blog/ehlers-danlos-syndrome/newsfeed-post/eds-and-pots/
  • Orthostatic intolerance due to veins not being able to constrict and control blood flow leading to blood pooling and pre syncope
  • Getting bruised extremly easily, a light bump can cause a bruise and i find random bruises with no cause
  • Extreme joint and muscle pain
  • Severe joint instability that keeps progressing despite 4 years of physical therapy and 1 year of clinical pilates
  • Feeling like holding my head up properly is extremly painful for prolonged periods of time (an hour) aswell as back pain despite proper posture and excercise.
  • Joint subluxations
    • Elbows (worried about it progressing to a full dislocation)
    • Hips
    • Lumbar spine
    • Knees
    • Ankles
    • Finger tips
    • Wrists
    • Thumbs
    • Jaw
  • Easily rolling ankles
  • Knee pain and subluxations when walking and primarily climbing up stairs
  • Ankle rolling constantly multiple times a day when walking
  • Constant heart burn
  • Having trouble swallowing food which is being looked into by my gi as an issue caused by my conective tissue not working properly and making swallowing difficult
  • Constant joint clicking and having to manualy pull and fix a variety of joints on a monthly basis and most notibly during strength and stretching exercises in clinical pilates especially with my knees and elbows
  • Yoga mats having in good condition having caused a scar that lasted up to 2 weeks pretty visibly (pictures bellow from day 1 to week 2
  • Scars taking a long time to heal
  • Easily irritated skin (pictures bellow, example of what happens after i take of my braces despite using lotion and leggings to ptotect my skin)
  • Stretch marks without any weight growth or loss
  • Inflamed joints when waking up
  • Shin splints
  • Choking while drinking water Or breathing
  • Struggling with swallowing (GI doc thinks its related to hypermobility and lax conective tissue)
  • Having odd and unussual reactions to medication such as it not affecting me or having weird side effects such as medication of sleeping waking me up or
  • Chronic widespread pain related to fatigue, muscle exhaustion, joint instability
  • Chronic insomnia since childhood caused a lot by discomfort while sleeping because my shoulders keep going to far and it hurts but i cant keep them in place and my neck hurts and no pillow or position helps releive the pressure
  • Foot papules
  • Blue sclera
  • Teeth overcrowding
  • Slightly narrow pallet
  • ribs popping in and out of place
  • needing to move my throat around because it keeps getting stuck and uncomfortable
  • possible cci

So yeah give me your opinions please, would really appreciate it thank youuuuu

Royal Road here: https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/80877/nop-atalors-fate
Discord Tag: notafurrylad
It's been a while, huh?

First Last Next
Memory transcription subject: Yivreen, Cyonian Survivor
Date [standardized human time]: February 22nd, 2134
The flash daymares hadn’t stopped. Four nights since they’d set in, and now those two fire and brimstone eyes were lingering, waiting to come out when I was asleep. I’d thought that first daymare had been a fluke. It’d felt real, getting chomped up like that, crushed. But... ah.
I’d had more. Once I was in the mouth of that Arxur who’d kicked down the tree. Then I was in the cages with Hens Jr and Sr, and Alma... And each time if there was time for it that swampheaded, red eyed, smokey Arxur would come on in. Try and guilt me like I’d done something wrong.
It was working.
“Yiv. Yiv! I think I got it!” I blinked, my stupor broken by Junior. The kid had been a good help with the computer system since we’d let him fiddle with it instead of me. Much to my... begrudging admission: he was better at it. So, I stood from the chair and headed over to him. The monitor and console were lit up good as new, but they’d been like that for a couple nights now. We’d finally got access to a local map when that’d happened. Or rather a map of the surrounding area, outdated as it was it still had the location of the city on it. It wasn’t like anything had significantly changed in the past hundreds of years since this place had been abandoned. It had been the whole ‘trying to page it into the rest of the old systems at the outpost’ part that’d eluded Juniors little pet project.
“What did you get?” I replied, leaning over his shoulder with a paw on the console while he typed at it.
He cleared his throat. “W-well. I was able to find the wire that’d been causing the problem with the connection to the outpost’s server.” A server? What?
“What do you mean a server? I thought the only computer systems in here were in this room?” He turned his head, a brown eye winking at me. “Nuh-uh! Were you even listening when I explained it earlier? It’s more than just a weather monitoring station. It had a server, otherwise why would it need so many type-v connectors. See?” He pointed a claw to the bundle of wiring running up the wall and into a concrete hole that looked to lead to the next floor above us. Probably. I hadn’t really cared about how many wires there were.
“So... there’s more than just the databanks here in this room?” I asked. My eyes were tasked with looking over the monitor with pursed lips. I’d dug through some ye olde outpost files in the past nights for my journalist program but evidently I’d been missing things if all it took was one kid who had a knack for tech to ascertain there was more to these places.
Before my question could be answered though the command lines and startup protocols on the operating system for the thing had popped by and opened up onto a familiar desktop of our more modern tech. Junior went about clicking immediately to some command line and writing in some jibberish... And- my eyes widened. “What’s that?” I asked, pointing my claw to all the commands on his little black background’d screen.

1: Status
2: Logs
3: Garage Door
4: Barrack Override
5: Communications

Were among the top five, with a half dozen more I didn’t quite have time to think on. “Quick- quick! The uh- There’s a garage?” Don’t get distracted Yivreen. Ahhh moss-heaps.. “The Barrack Override. See what that does.”
The boy swatted away my paw trying to push at it. “Calm down! Calm down jeez, fine!” He jammed his digit into the corresponding number and pressed enter. A few moments passed as it simply displayed three dots. I waited... I waited.. Cmoooo-
Clank. VV-vv-vvv-veeeeeee....
It sounded like something behind the wall to our left was trying to unrust itself and move. A couple hundred years of not moving or being maintained had probably ensured it’d never get moving smooth again. Then of course the universe proved me wrong, and the wall actually shifted. The rounded metal slab I’d taken for a part of the tower’s superstructure began to lower, and behind it... “Holy shit.”
I don’t know where the extreme language had come from but... Wow. My eyes lit. Bunks. Bedding. Lockers.. It looked like the room beyond had been some sort of lodging area for soldiery when this place was built. But there’d been a grow-in on the back wall from a massive root. Snaring part of the room in its gripping-vinelike vice grip. The root was long dead, and the hole it’d bored through the concrete had left the inside exposed to the elements a touch more than if it’d just been left... At least there wasn’t much evidence of water damage.
“Yiv? Are you-” But I was already headed through the way, a paw on my pistol as I glanced around the abandoned room. My mind went right to checking out the lockers, which turned out to be a good idea. My little training sessions into understanding the named bits for guns with Alma were about to start paying off.
“We’ve got guns. Or... Something like guns.” I announced, pulling out the carrying case and flipping it open. Inside I found what looked to be a.. Hrm- no magazine, no bullets... I lifted it up, the rifle-like hardened carbon material was in remarkably good shape. Probably due to the case and materials, but something was different about it. I glanced my eyes over it, noting the electronic aiming system on top which... when I clicked at it offered a red circle for looking through the little scope with. Huh. Not a common thing to find on a Cyonian designed weapon, at least not these nights. This place was old, but this weapon looked like it’d been built by something more ambitious than Federation paws. Federation handhelds were all modified from the same combustion based lead belchers. A fact that rarely ever went unspoken on our own networks when we needed a reason to criticize Aafa.
It took a while longer, but eventually I did find a snap-button on the back of the trigger grip that made something inside it hum to life. My eyes widened. “It’s... An energy weapon.” I murmured. My tail flicking in apprehension. Would it even still fire? The red blinking just below the button told me it must have no power perhaps but... “Hey. Junior. You think you could figure out how to charge one of these guys-?”
I turned my head to see the kid standing at the threshold with his tail in his paws, gripping them anxiously. “Yiv. The uh. The communications aren’t working, but I think the garage door might open if we try it. It could be that cropping of wall and sealed door we figured the old power system must have been housed in right?” He glanced to the rifle in my paws. “I mean, if it uses the same standards as the computer out here it should still be compatible with our stuff. But- we don’t have anything to charge power packs of that size.” He pointed to the fixture sticking out the bottom of the stock. Hrm, he was right.
“See if you can’t get the garage open. I’ll keep looking in here and see if there’s something to help with that.” Came my own voice, I felt... Giddy. Alive. The potential to fight back was intoxicating. Before all I’d had was this dinky pistol I’d used to... kill a couple of the greys. But if we could bring the fight to their patrols, save more people-
I shook my head. Why was I thinking like this? I couldn’t stand up to an invasion fleet. I’d been a frightened Sivkit on the first night of the attack. I- I’d stampeded. I couldn’t remember any of it, but the chance I’d trampled someone in my panic was not zero. I might have contributed to someone being crushed... I’d failed Els, that soldier I’d dragged into the house. Obelisk I couldn’t even keep my mind straight in a fight with those howling, laughing Arxur in my head. The campfire fight had been a fluke!
I didn’t quite know how long I just sat there, staring at the rifle beating myself up, but eventually I was shaken from it by Keick when she sat beside me, an arm on my shoulder. “Hey. I heard you and Junior had a bit breakthrough eh?” She said non-chalantly. I could tell though, even with the chipper tone she’d read me. The accountant knew I’d been in one of my little moods. She’d known me the longest of anyone here, everyone else was like... a pack of convenience? Maybe not Junior. Keick and I had survived the woods together. I’d pulled her from her own hells next to that burning car.
“Hey.” I returned back. “Yeah. Junior got the servers working. Or something like that.” I pointed a claw over at the computer, only to notice he was gone now. I blinked. Had I been out of it that long?
Keick filled in the hole in my head. “He went with his old man to go check out the garage.” Oh. Yeah.
I looked around, “Ah. The guns. We have guns now. Real guns.” I explained, holding the one I had in my paws up for her to inspect.
“Doesn’t look like any gun I’ve seen.” She mused back, taking it from my grip. My body was moving on its own now, rummaging deeper into the lockers. Some of these cases had been broken by the snaring, smaller branches of the grow-in. The firearms within cracked open and busted. Probably no good at all, exposed to the ambient humidity as they had been for so long. Still, couple of the other rifle cases were good. We had weapons, plural. Binoculars? Got em. Spare power packs that needed charging? Got em. There was a lot of survival gear here. Like a militarized ranger outpost had been stationed here. The synthetic material of the camouflaged cloak I found proudly proclaimed it’d reflect thermal scanning on its faded label even! “Either the old rangers from before the treaties were really into operator stuff or the Obelisk put all this here just for us.” I murmured.
Keick, for her part seemed to be looking it all over with a little inventory in her head. Already tapping in the number of each item into her dataslate. “Well. I’d go with the former. The Obelisk hasn’t been around for us lately.” Came the reply as she poked a claw at one of the now entirely spoiled ration packs. “Still, there’s enough stuff here you could arm a squad of soldiers probably. If you know where we can find some spare soldiers that is.”
I flicked my ear at the poor humoured joke. “Ahuh.” Came my reply. “Maybe you should go try the radio again, they’d love to get their paws on stuff like this I think. Pre-war tech actually made to fight predators like this is rare.” Which begged the question... Why did the cloak boast about defeating thermals? These outposts were dated after our discovery and incorporation into the Federation as an early member, and WELL before the Arxur war. So why had we built cloaks like these? Was this equipment used during the years when we’d resisted the burning of our forests and jungles? If so, it meant it might have been auhh... much more violent then the archives made it out to be. Maybe there was a story here? My inner journalist was theorizing.
___________________________
I’d had to pick my jaw up off the ground after headed over to the garage. Hens Senior and Alma were leaned over the the opened hood of what looked like a remarkably still intact forest rover. The design was actually recognizable, having not changed much from what we had tonight. Six thick grooved tires, a buggy-like cockpit four seater set in the middle, and a back and top rack for storing anything you could want. “Is it working?” I asked the obvious as I stepped inside, noting Junior sat off to the side, fiddling with some wall mounted box or other. He didn’t look to actually know what he was doing beyond dusting it off and giving it a deep stare.
“I wouldn’t think so.” Came the chime of Keick, who’d followed me inside. It was around now my monocular visioned eyes were noting the various tools and spare parts laying around in the garage. Whoever had last been here had left in a hurry seemingly, because it was mostly stocked. No mess on all the immensely dusty parts. I could see a couple smaller fauna in the corners. A lizard here, a rodent there. Obviously there had been some way they’d chewed their way in at some point... Or they’d come in when the door was opened to the bustle and noise of the forest to my back.
It was Senior who looked back at my question, standing to his full height before leaning his back against the old vehicle. “No. It isn’t working. Or at least it won’t be until I figure a way to give the battery juice.” I tilted my head.
“Is it one of those older ones that zap out after a hundred years or so?” Came my obvious question.
He flicked his tail no. “It’s got one of the standard ones, it’s just that it stopped auto-cycling a couple hundred years ago. The electric motor looks like it should work if we pop it on. But we’ll have to see.” He glanced around the workshop. “I want to say we could probably get it working with the tools we have, but if the battery can’t be jumped, or it’s spent, or the motor needs a complete replacement we’re up a creek on getting it working.” It sounded like he knew a bit about it.
The feeling of my face scrunching ever so much came. “You didn’t tell me you were a handyman.” I said, crossing my arms.
“Well it never came up.” He said back with an affable smile. “Listen, it’s been a long couple weeks. Don’t get all spotty with me. We didn’t have anything a hobbying mechanic could fix anyhow.” Just a roll of the eyes from myself is all that met him as Keick spoke up, stepping over to the other three.
“So what’re you gonna jump it with?” She asked incredulously, leaning over the open cabin. From there I sort of... zoned out. All the older Cyonians present were bickering and blathering about the buggy which was quickly losing interest for me. I didn’t understand anything about mechanics like that beyond the bare minimum, so it was out of my purview. If they got it working that’d be another thing but I wouldn’t have been any help right now, so instead I placed a couple careful paws down until I was beside Junior, sitting next to him as he seemed to be eyeballing some far too faded label.
He had a paw lightly rubbing out the dust that’d caked an outlet, still one brown eye fixed on the label. All I could make out myself was the little yellow square symbol warning of an electric charge hazard. Weird to think even now those hadn’t changed. Had Federation technology really not changed all that much? Was it just us? A sigh. “So. What’s got your your nose twitching little dude?”
The past couple nights he’d gotten better with his anger, and... hadn’t destroyed any important tech in a fit of rage. All he’d needed was something to set himself to in a difficult situation like this. Keich had been right to set him on that computer. And.. I’d felt myself trying to encourage him along the way. Partly because I had an investment in getting those maps, and then partly because he’d ended up filling in a spot in my head like a younger cousin. Him and his old man had only been around for a little bit, but I guess maybe I didn’t want to think too hard about what had probably happened to my real family. For now, maybe I felt the most ‘at home’ around Keich and this little tinkerer. Was that weird? It felt like it should be weird.
He answered, looking up with a small upturn in his lips. “I think I found your energy cell charger for those guns you had.” He said simply. “One of the manuals over there wasn’t totally ruined, I saw something about a ‘optical projector weapon’ and ‘charger’ so I was trying to figure out if this was it. I... Think it might be, but I’d need one of those batteries to make sure.”
Now I felt like smirking. “Oh yeah? Well go get one swamp brain. Let’s see if these things still work huh?” Dutifully, he was up and off, tail shaking behind him in what I recognized as excitement. We weren’t totally defenceless anymore, and if the buggy could be salvaged there would be a means at least to relocate if we had to. Or... Maybe I could take a trip down to the city and paint a couple more of those scumbags red-
I shook my head. Where had that thought come from? If I was going back to Ataln it was to try and save more people... Yeah. I still needed to see if Gael was alive, maybe check that old house I’d left Els in. I don’t even know if I could find it now, knowing how scatterbrained I’d been at the time but- making a return to at least try seemed worth it.
Regardless, the box on the wall did turn out to be the correct port to charge energy cells for the guns. We’d just need to rig it up to the solar power system and juice them up to test them. Things were looking up! Our mobility had the potential to go from nights in every direction for shelter to mere hours, I’d just have to hope Senior knew what he was doing.
“Hey. Buddy.” I’d wrapped my arm around Junior’s shoulder. “Why don’t you go take a break for now huh? You were working on the computer all night. Maybe it’d be a good idea to just go relax. Enjoy how much you got done eh?” Besides. Gave me a good way to check out the logs page on the computer system myself before he stumbled on anything. It wasn’t like I didn’t trust him with it but- well there was no way to know what was in those logs.
He nodded, and with that I stood up, streeeetched out, and headed toward the tower. “Good, it’s your shift on the guard tower anyway.” I intoned politely. It was going to be a long day, assuming there was anything of substance in those logs... Scrounging through those would be preferable to sleeping right now anyway.

Hi everybody, aspiring translator here, and French native.
I already speak English, and the next 5 years in uni will solidify that. However, I now have to pick 2 other languages to study , which are supposed to become part of my working roster once I graduate. I set my sights on Chinese. But when it comes to the 2nd language... I genuinely can't decide between German and Russian. I've combed through 100+ topics on Reddit and Quora, dabbled in both, and still genuinely can't decide, so I'm asking you guys for help.
TL;DR at the end of this wall of text ;)
Professional Aspects
Russian would give me the edge of knowing 4 of the 6 official UN languages at the end of my studies, and since I already have solid bases in Spanish, getting to 5 would be fairly easy.
On the other hand, European Institutions mostly seek translators for European languages, and as such Russian would be largely irrelevant. Chinese will still be somewhat useful I think, due to China being the #1 economic partner of the EU, but Russian doesn't hold quite that weight. So in regards to EU institutions, German would likely serve me much better.
Furthermore, freelance opportunities wise, German appears to be quite a bit more sought after, and pays better in terms of rate.
German speaking countries have much bigger economies, the GDP of Germany on its own is already double that of Russia. Moreover, Germany is France's top 1 business partner. Russia doesn't even make it to the top 10. Which once again suggests a bigger pool for opportunities.
Add the current politocal climate, and most indicators point to German being the better professional choice.
https://preply.com/en/blog/lucrative-languages-2023/
According to this article, Russian doesn't land in the top 10 by pay/demand, neither in the US, nor in the UK.
Difficulty
According to my research, since I already speak English and French, German should take moderate effort. The FSI estimates hang around 750 hours for German. That same organization puts Russian at 1100 hours.
According to my research, Russian grammar is widely considered to be an absolute nightmare to deal with (so is German grammar, but not quite to the same extent).
From my very surface level dabbling, I've found Russian immensely easier and more intuitive to pronounce. German takes a lot of conscious effort and feels very unnatural, my jaw and tongue legit feel sore after a while.
Having studied Ancient Greek, declensions aren't all that daunting. I have a pretty solid grasp of the concept, but they do take some conscious effort to use when speaking orally and due to how liberally Russian uses them, it may become an issue. German being generally easier means it'd be easier to combine with learning Chinese without damaging one or the other too bad.
Personal Affinity
I have a major love & hate dynamic with Russian. I am OBSESSED with the way Russian sounds. I'm not exaggerating whatsoever when I say it's the most elegant language I've ever heard. The only one I think could compete is Greek. I've been listening to Russian music for years, I often set some of my games in Russian just for the sake of hearing it.
But I have no interest in Russia's culture or history whatsoever. In fact, being part of a group that's actively hated by the average Russian, I have major issues with it. I've seen too much shit that completely destroyed any kind of appreciation I may have had for Russia as a country. I find little meaning in sinking so much time in learning to communicate with people who won't want to be associated with me and wouldn't care if I live or die. The russian litterature holds little appeal to me so that's not a good motivator either.
I don't see myself ever stepping foot in Russia for more than a tourist stay of 1 or 2 weeks, and I feel that such lack of engagement with native speakers has the potential to truly ruin my ability to get and maintain a good level in the language.
When it comes to Russian, my sole motivator is genuinely how cool it sounds, and how I'd love to be able to speak it. Except speaking it may even take that away from me, since finding meaning in it may ruin its melody.
As for German... I used to think it sounded horrible. Until I actually got exposed to it. Now I think it sounds badass af. Not half as cool as Russian/Greek, but cool enough that I'd enjoy learning and speaking it.
I don't feel any particular pull towards German culture, but as opposed to Russia, I could 100% picture myself living in a German speaking country for a few years. I'll also have a much easier time finding and engaging with natives.
Other aspects I'm considering
German has less speakers, and most native German speakers are competent English speakers, which limits the usefulness of German.
Russian speakers on the other hand are less proficient in English, but Russian is actively loosing influence as a language, with most of the former USSR countries completely dropping Russian. It's no longer anywhere near a Lingua Franca in Eastern Europe, and considering Russia's birthrate...
One specific thing though, is the relative lack of Russian dialects compared to the absolutely ludicrous amount of German dialects, a good chunk of which are only somewhat intelligible.
TL;DR:
Pros of Russian: Huge fan of the language itself and how it sounds, more native speakers, more niche, easier to pronounce, I consume more Russian media, less English proficiency amongst Russian speakers, lack of dialects
Cons of Russian: More difficult, less opportunities as a whole, appears to be actively loosing influence, lack of interest in Russian culture if not outright distaste for it
Pros of German: Significantly easier, more opportunities, I'm significantly more open to German culture and values leading to more chances for interaction and stays in German speaking environments.
Cons of German: I enjoy the way it sounds less, less speakers as a whole, very high english proficiency amongst native speakers, relative lack of interest in German media production, large amounts of dialects
Writing all of this honestly made me realize I kind of already know the answer, I just have a tough time fully accepting it. Still feeling a bit of a pinch at the prospect of not learning Russian, but maybe for me it's one of those things that are best left admired from a distance.

Mine was utter bs. Work is tiring being harassed by my mother is even more tiring.
And now I have this annoying itchy sore throat that will NOT go away. Hope it's just a regular cold not covid or whatever else it might be

Every goddamn time.
Easy link: https://youtu.be/tYu8P9_Nd7o?feature=shared
Lyrics, but not exactly up to date:
Hit the wall I'm coming with a fever
Dropped the ball I didn't think I'd see her
And now I'm running round, looking for another town
Bartender broke my fucking leaver
And now I'm back to living with my parents
Its kinda cool I never have to pay rent
But I think about you, think about you all the time
Guess I'm gonna have to finally face it
I'm an alca-alca, alcoholic
Broken heart don't hurt, already got it
And when I think about you, think about you all the time
But you never, never let me finish
Coked out and talking like a tweaker
Short straw and staring in a mirror
And I tell myself, I tell you everything is fine
Sore throat and just a little fever
And now I'm driving drunk and double vision
Thinking that I'm punk and on a mission
When I figure out, I figure out my fucking life
Red lights and full head on collision
I'm an alca-alca, alcoholic
Broken heart don't hurt, already got it
And when I think about you, think about you all the time
Guess I'm gonna have to finally face it
That I'm an alca-alca, alcoholic
Broken heart don't hurt, already got it
And when I think about you, think about you all the time
Guess I'm gonna have to finally face it

https://ibb.co/mXc6Pyw
My daughter, 15F, started feeling ill Apr 28. It started with fever, body ache, and congestion/sinus pain and cough and ear ache, and deep fatigue. We treated with advil/tylenol, figuring it was just a normal cold. It was getting worse and throat was very inflamed (though not sore, apparently) with those white spots so started clarithromycin May 5 (allergic to amoxicillin). Did a course of 7 days, twice daily. May 6 we started doing peridex rinse 2x day, and saltwater baking soda rinse every 2 hours. A couple days into this routine, her throat started hurting badly but the fever and other symptoms started getting better. But throat has been steadily getting worse, along with pain in the back of the head and neck, and still a bit of a cough. The doctor prescribed another course of clarithromycin since the throat is still inflamed with white spots (picture in link is current). We are on day 3 of the second course of clarithromycin. We have had a swab come back negative for strep and a mono blood test also come back negative. The pain in throat, back of the head and neck seems to be getting worse, worst in the mornings upon waking. The tylenol and advil do help the pain.
If it's not strep or mono, what else could this be?
(Taking vit D 5000iu/day due to deficiency, and iron supplement as well, normal dose)

I just came across these myths, Maybe they can tell us something about Luffy, Dragon, Imu and the One Piece.
Rahu (my take is IMU):
The tales begin in the "remotest periods of the earliest of time, when the devas and asuras churned the ocean of milk to extract from it the amrita, the elixir of immortality." - Svarbhanu, an Asura (demon) deceived Vishnu’s female avatar Mohini, posing as a Deva(god) to steal the elixir of immortality. Displeased, Mohini cut Svarbhanu’s head. Svarbhanu was henceforth referred to as Rahu (head) and Ketu (body), could not die, but his head was separated from his body.
Following this event, Rahu (IMU) and Ketu (Five Elder planets representing his torso, both legs and arms) gained the status of planets, and could influence the lives of humans on Earth.
Rahu and Ketu became bitter enemies with Surya (Sun - Sun God Nika or Monkey D. Luffy) and Chandra (Moon - Marshall D. Teach) for exposing his deception and leading to his decapitation.
Hanuman (hindu deity that inspired Sun Wookong):
When Hanuman was an infant, he was once left unattended by his earthly mother and father. He became hungry, and when the Sun rose, he believed it to be a ripe fruit. So, Hanuman leapt up towards the Sun with extreme speed. Vayu (Wind God) his celestial father, blew cold wind on him to protect him from the burning Sun. Coincidentally, Rahu (Imu maybe) was meant to swallow the Sun (Eternal Flame?) and eclipse it that day. As Rahu approached the Sun, he saw Hanuman (Nika) about to eat it.
Hanuman saw Rahu and thought Rahu to be a fruit as well, so he attempted to eat him too. Rahu fled to the court of the king of the devas, Indra (Lightning God), and complained that while he was meant to satisfy his hunger with the Sun, there was now a bigger Rahu who tried to consume the Sun and himself.
Indra set out on Airavata, his divine elephant (Zunesha?), to investigate alongside Rahu, who retreated once more when he saw how enormous Hanuman had grown. Hanuman was playing with the Sun's chariot and reached for Rahu again. As Rahu cried out to Indra for help, Hanuman saw the Airavata and mistook it for yet another fruit.
When he approached in his giant form, Indra struck his left jaw with a thunderbolt and injured him. Hanuman began falling back towards the Earth when he was caught by Vayu.
Kuafu (a giant of chinese legend):
There was a vast mountain in the desolated plains of the north. In the mountain forest lived a tribe of mighty giants (The Kuafu-Shi). They were led by Kuafu (Joyboy and Roger); the grandson of Houtu (Mother Earth). The giants were strong but kind, leading simple lives.
The leader, Kuafu, was not only tall and muscular, but also had strong legs which enabled him to run faster than a rabbit. He often led his people to fight with beasts for survival. Thus he often wore yellow snakes he caught as earrings, and swung snakes in his hands with pride.
One day, Kuafu sat on a slope watching the sun slowly setting in the west. As the land was gradually covered in darkness, he suddenly came up with a wild idea. If he captured the sun, would he then bring bright light and warmth to the world forever?
Hearing his idea, many people tried to talk him out of it.
“Don’t even think about it,” one said. “The sun is too far way, and you will die from fatigue!”
“The sun is too hot. You will be burned alive,” another said.
But Kuafu was determined to compete with the sun and try to catch it.
As the sun rose the next morning, Kuafu bade farewell to his tribe and started chasing the sun with a cane in his hand.
The sun was just like a naughty child, prancing across the sky. Kuafu raced across the land like a gush of wind, chasing the sun relentlessly. He chased it over mountains and rivers, shaking the land with every step he took.
The sun rose higher and higher and yet Kuafu kept chasing it with sweat streaming down his face.
He was famished and extremely thirsty so he ran to a fruit tree to quench his thirst and relieve his hunger. When tired, Kuafu leaned against his cane and took a quick rest.
The chase continued and the sun began dropping in the west.
Kuafu got agitated and shouted, “You keep on running, and see if I don’t catch you!”
The sun didn’t seem to care at all and moved even faster into the western horizon. Kuafu twirled his cane, and scurried across the plains, racing thousands of miles toward the sun. It seemed that he was getting closer and closer. He chased it all the way to the Mount Yanzi. As Kuafu stretched forth his mighty arms in an attempt to catch the ball of fire, a wave of heat gushed in, blowing him far way. Fortunately, he regained balance with his cane.
Kuafu kept his chin up and started chasing yet again. The closer he got to the sun, the hotter it got. His sweat drained profusely, leaving his clothes soaked. He took his clothes off and exposed his dark and strong chest.
As he kept running, Kuafu felt terribly thirsty. His throat was dry and sore. Suddenly, his eyes lit up with the Yellow River coming into his sight. He rushed over and leaned into the river, gulping up the water fiercely.
He was so thirsty that he drank up all the water in the Yellow River. Still thirsty, Kuafu ran to the Weihe River and started gulping again. The Weihe River got drunk dry as well. But Kuafu’s thirst was still not quenched. So he headed north to another big lake.
The big lake sat in the north of Mount Yanmen. The water was clean and clear, with birds flocking and flourishing around. Thinking all of the fresh water, Kuafu scurried over even faster. He tried to get there before the sun set, so that he could keep on chasing the sun again after quenching his thirst.
However, his footsteps got heavier and heavier. The intense thirst slowed him down immensely, and Kuafu fell down like a mountain with a large booming sound.
Just as he fell, Kuafu flung his cane over with all his strength. The cane made an arc in the air and then fell into the distance.
Just then, the sun set into the Yu Valley of Mountain Yanzi, leaving a golden afterglow on Kuafu’s face.
The sun rose again the next dawn, yet Kuafu had already turned into a huge mountain where he fell down.
On the northern side of the mountain, there was a lush peach orchard, which was turned from his cane.
Kuafu (Joyboy and Roger) believed that there would always be someone else trying to chase the sun like he did and the peach orchard (One Piece) he left would help them quench their thirst. Just as he planned, the orchard flourished, creating shelter and shade for passers-by and offered fruit (Devil Fruit?) to relieve their thirst and exhaust (give hope).
Though the myth suggested that Kuafu chased the Sun on the spur of a moment, some scholars conjectured that it may have actually been planned for the whole tribe searching for water source in the draught. Chasing the sun indicated that the tribe tried migrating westward for water.

In hindsight, I should have known something was wrong with The Caeles Academy of Acting.
Maybe the fact that it doesn't exist to the outside world.
This place prided itself on famous alumni it didn't actually name, and a once in a lifetime opportunity to work with the best in the business.
It's what I wanted.
More than anything.
After enduring four years of high school with barely a semblance of a drama club (we met every month, and our teacher was an alcoholic), and countless failed auditions, I was ready to take my acting career seriously. I had one year.
According to my parents, I had one year to make a living from my passion.
If it didn't work out, I would be on the first plane back to Connecticut.
It's not like they didn't trust me. I think they were just scared I wouldn't be able to financially support myself. So, I got a job right out of high school and slipped a year. Drama schools are expensive, and college’s are cut-throat on who they take on. I found Caeles Academy by accident–or, I guess it found me?
After researching cheap drama classes, auditions, academy’s, literally anything to progress my career, an ad popped up.
Not exactly flashy.
Just a date, a time, and a promise that they only take the best. I ignored it, but throughout the week, I started getting more ads. Just the words, “IMPRESS US - - JOIN CAELES ACADEMY NOW.”
Followed by, “BE WITH THE BEST, AND BE THE BEST. JOIN THE S CLASS NOW.”
When I googled the academy, nothing came up.
It didn't exist, at least on Google.
So, I gave up, clicking on the ad, which sent me straight to an application form.
I filled in my details as more of a joke. But I wasn't expecting to get an email back. Again, it was a time, a date, and that exact same tagline: “Impress us.”
However, Caeles Academy was different from what I imagined.
I was expecting a university building, or at least some modern structure.
Judging from their marketing and ads, I figured they could at least afford decent premises. Though I was mistaken. When I stepped out of the Uber, I found myself staring at what looked like an abandoned office tower, a red-brick monolith in the middle of nowhere.
Which was crazy, because I swore a girl wearing a bikini had strode through the doors, with nothing but her phone, and a coffee tucked under her elbow.
According to the text sent from the academy, the auditioning rooms were on the third floor.
Tipping my head back, the checkerboard of broken windows didn't exactly instil confidence.
Neither did the clunky set of automatic doors that took a while to open.
It was a summer's day, and the heat was already baking through my dress, sweat sticky on the back of my neck.
I wanted to make a good impression, but the heels were a little over the top.
Though I had also seen a girl casually walk in wearing a two piece bikini.
“Well?”
Freddie’s voice made me jump. I forgot I was on the phone to him.
After being excited the whole car-ride, already high on five coffees, I was silent.
If I perceived the ‘academy’ from an objective standpoint, it definitely looked like the perfect place to be brutally murdered. But my own personal opinion was it was.. okay.
“What's it like?”
I pretended not to see a rat scuttling under an old candy wrapper.
“It's… fine.”
“Just fine?”
I could hear the smirk in my friend’s tone. He couldn't wait to tell me it was a scam, and had been reminding me all week I was essentially willingly selling myself to the black market. I was stubborn, so, fine sounded better than my initial first impression.
Which was to turn around, walk away, and completely block the place from my memory.
Unfortunately, at that moment, I valued my pride over my awareness.
“It's… okay.” I said, trying to find positives. I was staring at a looming grey building with shattered windows and a resident rat living near the door.
I had a hard time figuring out how the girl from earlier had just casually strode inside, barefoot too. I glanced down at the ground, immediately regretting it.
Like there weren't bits of chewing gum and grime stuck to the concrete.
“Huh.” Freddie said, his tone creeping into teasing territory. “You're really selling it.”
“It just looks like a building,” I muttered, my gaze glued to the rat, who looked a little too comfortable.
Maybe it was a pet.
I was getting progressively more infuriated the more I stared down this place. Judging from the decades old writing ingrained into the door, it used to be a dentist surgery. “What do you want me to say?” I wasn't even trying to hide the scorn from my voice. “It's a building that looks like an academy.”
“Can you send a picture?” Freddie asked, “Ooh, wait, I'll face-time you.”
“That's, uh, that’s not really necessary–”
I was cut off, suddenly, when a guy threw himself through the automatic doors, palms first. He took two stumbled steps forwards, one back.
Lifting his head, half lidded eyes found the sky, before he dropped to his knees, heaving pinkish liquid.
I could see him trying to hold it in, slamming his hands over his mouth, only for it to splurge through his fingers, showering the ground in greyish pink froth.
Like he'd downed a bottle of Pepto Bismol.
Inching towards him, I realized it was Pepto Bismol.
The stink made my own stomach churn.
“Missy?”
I found my voice. “Uh, can I call you back later?”
Before my friend could answer, I ended the call, slipping my phone in my pocket.
The guy was still heaving, coughing up globules of pink.
“Are you okay?”
The sound of my heels click-clacking on concrete made me cringe. The guy noticed, flinching away. Closer, and I could see his scraggly blonde hair.
He was handsome.
Without the bile spewing down his chin.
Early twenties, wearing a fitted white shirt now covered in streaks of bright pink. Part of me wanted to make a half-hearted joke, but getting even closer, so close I could smell his pepto-breath, I noticed he was trembling, his hands clenched into fists.
When I attempted to awkwardly pat him on the shoulder, he twisted around, so fast my morning coffee slithered its way back up my throat.
His eyes were wide, almost feral, studying me like a wild animal.
I noticed the whites of his pupils were red, like he'd burst a blood vessel.
Theatre kids were intense, though I had never met THIS kind of intense.
“Are you… going in there?” The guy’s voice was a child-like whimper I wasn't expecting.
It looked like he was slowly regaining clarity, staring down at his filthy shirt, his hands stained bright pink.
I nodded, uncertainly, offering him my water. “Yeah. Did you audition?”
He shoved it away, slapping himself in the face. “I… I don't know.”
“You… don’t know?”
Suddenly, it was like something had contorted in his expression, a switch being pulled. I wasn't expecting him to twist around so fast. The guy slowly cocked his head, his lips breaking into a grin. His eyes, however, stayed the same.
“Of course I've auditioned.” He said, with a laugh.
“It was the best experience of my life!" His mouth formed an almost mocking frown.
“Unfortunately, I didn't make the cut. Which is a real shame. I'm sure Caeles would have benefited from my talents.”
What was weird, is that his mouth was moving, but he wasn't even looking at me, frenzied eyes caught in an oblivion I couldn't see.
When he did look at me, his expression crumpled all over again.
Pepto jumped to his feet, brushing himself down.
I couldn't take his over the top smile seriously, when his eyes were screaming, hollowed out caverns silently begging me to listen.
This guy was fucking crazy.
“Wait.” Pepto whispered, when I turned to walk away.
He pulled out his phone, tapping the screen before shoving it in my face.
I HAD SO MUCH FUN AT THE CAELES ACADEMY AUDITIONS :)
When I could only stare at him in confusion, Pepto’s gaze flicked to his phone, swiping bile from his lips.
His eyes went cartoon wide, like he couldn't believe what he himself was typing.
“That… that's not what I was trying to say!” He tried retyping it, but the guy was just writing strings of emoji hearts.
I didn't know what to say. I had dealt with rejection before, but I had never gone this far. Pepto was having a full on mental breakdown, his body shuddering, teeth chattering, blinking eyes and lips parting as if to speak, but choking on his words. When he started clawing out his hair, I took the opportunity to make a quick getaway.
Before I could make it to the doors, though, Pepto jumped in front of me, waving his phone directly in my face.
“Just…” he pointed at the screen. “It won't let me…” Growing frustrated with himself, he let out a wet sounding sob, clawing his fingers through his hair.
“Fuck, it won't let me…it won't let me type! It's not letting me type!”
By now, he had tufts of hair stuck between his fingernails. I don't know why his first reaction was to immediately try ripping his hair out.
A quick glance at my own phone reminded me of my audition that was in five minutes.
Meanwhile, I was dealing with what I was pretty sure was delusion, denial, or a mixture of both.
I was considering pushing past him, when Pepto’s phone screen hit me in the face. Again.
This time, though, there was coherent writing.
“FIND LUKE.”
“Luke?” I said. “Who's that?”
“Luke!” The guy was bouncing on the heels of his feet. “He's my…” Pepto drifted off, his eyes going vacant, as if I could physically see his brain being plucked from his skull. Pepto dropped his phone, and I grabbed it before it could hit the ground. His hands went to his curls, clawing, scratching, until he was drawing blood across his forehead.
“I… I don't know! I can't… I can't remember. Luke. He was my… he was my… I don't know, I can't… I can't–”
I stumbled back when he let out a shriek, scratching at his face.
“Fuck!” He whimpered. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”
Pepto grabbed my shoulders, shaking me, his fingers digging into my skin.
“I don't know who he is.” He gritted out, pink froth pooling from his lips.
Pepto broke out into a sob. “I don't… I don't know who he is, but you can find him, right? You can… you can find…”
Again, he trailed off mid sentence, his hands going limp around my shoulders.
I managed to side step him, swallowing a cry.
“Yeah, I'll, um, I'll find him for you.”
Pepto backed away, suddenly, stumbling over himself.
His gaze found mine, vacant, like a baby deer.
“Find who?”
I didn't wait around to answer him, pushing through the doors and stepping inside.
The interior was unsurprisingly even worse than the exterior.
The elevator was broken, so I had to run up three flights of stairs.
I expected at least an attempt at an academy, even in the dregs of an old dentist surgery.
What I got, though, was a never ending staircase, obnoxious photos of teeth greeting me on every level.
The third floor was… less clinical.
I strode directly into a waiting room filled with college aged students, either sitting on plastic chairs, or standing around, rehearsing.
The room itself was cosy enough, a navy carpet and a TV playing a random Twitch stream.
Situated in the middle was a desk with a bored looking woman behind it.
Her smile was fake. I could understand her pain. She was stuck in a room with theatre kids all day.
“Sign here.” She prodded a sheet of paper.
I was convinced her voice was AI.
While I was scribbling my details, I took a moment to notice the stark difference from the kids entering the room, to the ones leaving. The kids entering wore wide, confident smiles and were social butterflies, chatting amongst themselves.
The kids leaving reminded me of pod people.
They left the room silent, in an orderly line with dazed smiles on their faces, like they weren't sure where they were.
I watched one guy walk directly into the wall instead of taking a left toward the exit, and a girl straight up just toppled down the stairs.
The kids waiting with me named them rejects.
I wasn't convinced until I glimpsed an empty bottle of Pepto Bismol sitting on the floor by the window.
Thinking back to Pepto, that made a lot of sense.
I was still dazedly staring at the bottle, when my name was called.
Jumping to my feet, I did my best to calm myself down, straightening my ponytail. Pepto had really screwed with my head. I could barely even remember the lines I had been rehearsing for a week straight.
I was muttering my lines to myself, when I stepped through the door.
The door that apparently turned you into a pod-person on the way out.
For a moment, I thought I was blinded by stage lights.
It was so bright.
The glow bathing me was clinical, stabbing into my eyes.
When I blinked, I found myself standing in front of three shadows sitting in front of me.
Their chairs were made of leather, far different from the plastic ones in the waiting room.
So, they did have filthy cash.
I was looking at one man, and two women.
They were… average?
I expected them to be more glitzier, but they were just regular people.
The man was in his late twenties, maybe early thirties, a stiff looking brunette wearing a suit and tie, one leg crossed over the other. His eyes were narrowed slightly, lips curved into the start of a smile. Like I amused him.
The women were polar opposites.
One of them was my Mom’s age, grey hair and floral clothing. She took a sip of water, her gaze burning into me.
Google told me not to be intimidated by their stares, but it was impossible.
These people were carving holes into my skull.
Sitting next to her, a younger girl who seemed to own the color red.
Her hair simmered, blood red, while she herself was sculpted in a dress, perfect cherry lips spread in a wide smile.
With a little too many teeth.
They studied my face like I was already theirs, drinking in every inch of me.
Freddie said I had to find a weakness in their expression and use it to my advantage.
If I could find the prick of a genuine smile, I could become their favorite.
“Hi!” I said. My caffeine intake was starting to take effect.
I didn't realize I was bouncing up and down until I caught myself.
Red’s smile stretched wider.
Maybe they liked my eagerness.
“My name is Misa.” I introduced myself, staying casual, keeping my arms by my sides. “I'm twenty one years old–”
I choked on my next words when Red spoke up. “Impress us, Misa,” Her voice was a smooth, almost seductive rasp, and I felt myself fall into it, enveloped in sugar that was too sweet, and yet I couldn't stop myself. She folded her arms across her chest, her gaze challenging me to do something different. To make her want me.
“Show us something we have never seen before.” She stood up, cat-like eyes narrowing, “Show us how desperate you are to join this prestigious class.”
I nodded, and began.
I had planned a whole monologue, practised it over and over again, forcing Freddie to judge me with a none biassed opinion.
I was three lines in, when Red started laughing.
“Stop.”
I did, my cheeks heating up.
She clapped loudly. Obnoxiously.
“Sweetie, oh, stop, you're adorable!”
She leaned forward, like I was something that entertained her, jostling her heeled foot. “We don't take amateurs. I think you need to go back to school.”
This woman was definitely a psychopath.
Empty eyes sparkling with a gleam that definitely enjoyed humiliating candidates, and a twisted smile that was a little too wide. Red made me want to crawl into the ground.
She made me want to turn around, leave the room, and quit my dream. I was aware of my own fury, my embarrassment turning my cheeks crimson. I matched her.
Maybe that's what she wanted all along. To wear the color of her victims.
Taking a shaky step back, I started to nod, started to agree, my mouth choking with the words, “You're right. I'm sorry for wasting your time."
I had never received proper constructive criticism from a professional standpoint.
Which meant I really did suck.
But I didn't move. I didn't want to move, and Red continued laughing, her companions sitting in silence.
The man rolled his eyes with a loud, exaggerated sigh.
Like I was boring.
The older woman pulled out her phone.
“Misa, you are…cute.” Red said. “But you're not quite what we are looking for.”
I wasn't sure I could admit it right there, but she made me feel things.
Like I was ignited.
Like I was going to prove this crazy bitch wrong.
I found my voice, strong and confident, despite my hammering heart.
“Give me another chance.”
Red’s lips curled. “So cute, Misa. Oh, sugar bear, It would be better if you left the room. Unless you want to embarrass yourself further! In that case, be my guest!”
She turned her attention to her nails, nudging the guy.
“Dinner?” She hummed. “I'm thinking of Italian. You are quite the wine connoisseur, Nicholas. Why don't you introduce me to your favorite?”
“Hey.” I blurted.
They ignored me, getting a little too close.
I don't know why I continued, reading my lines, screaming them, so I would be heard. I read them perfectly, and tweaked the genre from drama to romance, and then to horror. I became three different characters, a high school girl struggling with cancer, a final girl, and a woman going through a divorce.
I was fucking perfect.
But they weren't listening to me, caught up in their own conversation.
I tried again.
And again.
And again.
By now, I was on my knees, my fingers ripping into my hair. I was seeing red.
“We want originality, Misa,” Red said, sucking her teeth.
Her voice crawling into my skull was enough.
She still wanted me.
The thought polluted the back of my mind, taking a strangling hold. She still wanted me. When I lifted my head, Red wasn't looking at me, her gaze on the table grains. “Show us something new.”
I got to my feet, panting, my breath in my throat.
I became a screaming, strangled mess, a woman who lost her baby.
Red’s interest was piqued. Only slightly. Through my fraying vision, she slowly turned in her chair. “Again.” She clapped her hands, “Come on, Misa! We want new! We want never been fucking done before! Are you deaf?”
I couldn't stop the sobs escaping my mouth.
They lost interest again, right in the middle of my reading.
“Why can't you look at me?” I found myself spluttering.
When the man pulled out a bottle of water, I yanked off my heel and lobbed it at his face.
“Look at me!”
He did. Slowly. His gaze found me, for perhaps the first time.
Not as an amateur, but as a potential candidate.
Around the twentieth attempt, I started to laugh. Never been done before? I could feel my fingernails already in my scalp, clawing chunks of my hair out.
Reality contorted, and I felt myself drop to my knees. I was still laughing, spluttering, sobbing. I could still hear her in my head. Never Been Done Before. I started slowly, dragging my fingernails down my face until I felt the harsh sting.
“Again.” Red said, and her voice led me to stare down at my hands, at pinkish flesh glued to my bones, fleshy mounds that I had never realized was so thin.
So easy to tear. I didn't even feel it.
Only the sudden, unbridled euphoria of biting into my own skin, locking in my jaw, and ripping into myself.
When I tore it from the bone, warmth filled my mouth, and I was choking, guzzling down my own flesh, mulling it in my mouth and swallowing.
I can't remember how I got so deep, and why I didn't stop.
Why I didn't fucking scream.
But it didn't matter.
Red was standing up. She was clapping, her lips spread into a grin.
Her applause filled me with stars.
So, I ripped my hair from my scalp, a hysterical giggle escaping my lips.
She loved me.
I could see her jumping up and down, clapping.
Louder, and louder.
Her applause controlled me, twisting and contorting me into hers.
I didn't even think. I wanted to impress her, and doing this was doing just that.
My fingers were delving into my right eye socket, clawing my eye out. It didn't even hurt. Not with her thundering applause that was deafening, beautiful, an orchestra in my ears.
When I was semi conscious, my eye was crushed in my hand, but my vision was still mine, almost too clear. I could see streaks of red blurred between my lashes. My hair was caught between my fingers. But I wanted to do more.
When I stumbled to my feet, Red’s smile was so beautiful.
The man, however, looked horrified.
“Someone grab one of the successes,” Red’s voice was a shrill giggle, “Bring him in!” she clapped her hands together, and I spat out a fleshy thing. “I want to see them together! I want to see the future in front of us!”
Footsteps coming towards me in slow, shuddery thumps. I looked up, and a shadow was dancing around me.
When I slowly rose to my feet, I half realized I’d bitten my toe off. The shadow had a face, a boy who was younger than me. I think he used to have hair, but half of it was gone, half of it was still stuck between his fists. When I found his eyes, I found twin caverns instead.
Eyes that were still physically there, and yet there was no life.
No spark.
I was staring at a dead body, a flesh puppet who had lost his strings.
When he grabbed my hands, pulling me into a waltz, I caught a smear of scarlet trickling down the back of his neck. When I followed it upwards, his head was covered, slick, dripping with red.
Like me, he matched her too.
And he was beautiful, she told me, her push, her thunderous applause, guiding me into a waltz.
His feet moved, perfecting every step, and my foggy mind couldn't understand why. He matched my every move, the two of us floating across the floor.
My feet knew the steps before my mind.
How could he dance? I thought, dizzily.
How could he dance, when smeared scarlet followed his twisting, and turning and pirouetting feet?
Because underneath that swimming clinical light, the back of the boy’s head had been carved away, a perfectly sculpted cavern where his brain should have been. I could see the severed stem, where it had cleanly plucked out.
His fingers cradled in mine were wet. Swimming in blood.
His own blood.
Spinning round and around, I imagined myself as a princess.
I saw an 18th century ballroom lit up around us. Glittering smiles and glasses of champagne, long, flowing ball gowns.
I blinked, and my head was tipped back, gliding in blood once again.
When he pulled me to his chest, I stumbled, and a name came to light.
Luke.
I had found him.
Our finishing spin left me hard to breathe.
My body was broken, ripped into, and yet somehow not.
By the time we were finished, the two of us bowing, my mind was full of fog.
Cotton candy.
“Congratulations!” Red’s smile was inhuman, stretching right off of her face.
“You're in the S class!”
I was led through a door that wasn't the one I entered from. Inside the room were a dozen or so students, kneeling on the floor. They were missing parts of themselves, like unfinished puzzle pieces.
I dropped onto my knees next to a girl without a head. I could only see her torso, but I knew she was smiling.
Looming over us, was the goddess Athena drenched in blood that was still wet.
Dripping, pooling from every crevice of her dress.
Looking closer, this statue was moving.
Something sickly crept into my mouth.
Her right eye was human, a twitching eyeball sandwiched inside the stone.
It didn't match her. It was wrong, horrifying, like a painting, a real human eye struggling to focus on us.
And then, my own gaze found the statues head, where a real human brain had been forced inside perfect white, pink, greyish mush dripping down the sculpted, slender neck.
I could see where it had been pushed, pulverised through the stone.
The statue’s singular eye found me.
Its dancing pupil jumped up and down.
Before it blinked.
Next to me, Luke was on his knees, as if in prayer.
I can't remember leaving the room.
I just remember running.
Back down the stairs, stumbling, staggering over myself.
I was screaming by the time I reached the doors.
They opened, as usual.
But I couldn't get through. I tried, but I was slamming into something I couldn't see.
Pepto was still waiting outside. The sky was dark.
When he saw me, he stumbled over, slamming his hands into the glass.
I couldn't even understand myself. I was just fucking screaming.
Pepto held up his phone.
“DID YOU FIND HIM?”
I shook my head.
“No.” I lied.
I can't tell him the truth. I don't even know what it is.
“I can't get out!”
Pepto nodded slowly, typing something and showing me his phone.
I'm getting you both out of there. I think I know how I can get inside.
It's been 3 days, and Pepto is yet to return.
I’ve tried multiple times to cry out for the H word. But it won't let me type it.
Please H me. I need to get out of this place.
Fuck. Get me OUT OF HERE.
Classes start tomorrow.