So background: 23F, 5’4” and around 177lbs. On a weight loss journey right now if that helps at all with CICO.
I’m constipated for the second time during my weight loss journey. Last time, I took Durcolax (about 2-4 chewable tablets) and was able to go after a few hours. I even got some constipation tea a few weeks later that also made me poop a LOT after an hour or so.
I’ve been constipated for a few days, only able to pass small stools. I feel EXTREMELY bloated and my weight has gone up slightly from normal. So I’m trying the laxatives again. 2 days ago, I took 2 tablets with 2 water bottles afterwards. Nothing. Just a lot of peeing afterwards (which was crystal clear). I shrugged and hoped that it would kick in the next day.
Today, I felt really bloated, so I took 4 of the tablets this time with 2 water bottles beforehand. I also had the constipation tea about 5-6 hours after the tablets, since I felt nothing and kept peeing out everything (again, crystal clear). I feel some cramping, but overall little to no appetite and just not even a feeling to go. I’m scared I took too much, but the only thing that worries me is some water coming back up when I burp (not actual vomiting). I’m trying to drink another 16oz water bottle in hopes to move some stuff along. I even tried a black bean burrito with salsa to see if that would help. So far… nothing.
What the heck do I do? The doctors is not an option right now due to insurance reasons.

Setting is long term care. Here’s the situation: I get report and it’s mentioned so and so had a fall and nose bleed today- she’s fine, no issues. Her daughter said the pt had dark stool- monitor. Her neuro vitals were only taken once because they gave her risperidone after the fall (dementia pt….) and she fell asleep after. My shift comes along (2300), I go do a round with the care aids said patient is sleeping towards the wall, resps easy and reg. then just after midnight rolls around and the care aid calls me in a panic, the pt is on the floor again. All I could see was her legs at first and I instantly knew something was wrong just by the colour of her. She’s going in and out of consciousness, pupil reactions very sluggish. She’s incontinent of this pitch black liquid BM (normally continent) and the toiletbowl near her had the same BM in it. She again had a nose bleed. I immediately call the doc and 911. After I’ve sent her to the hospital and I’m doing my charting I had a moment to read what happened earlier in the day. Her nose bleed started at noon. Wouldn’t stop. At 230 the daughter said something was wrong and requested pt go to hospital, pt having black stool. Next chart note- pt fell, hit head. Bump on head. Vitals stable nose still bleeding. Rn aware.
And then nothing.
I was horrified when I read the notes. For me personally I would have sent her at 230 and I would have agreed with the daughter. I ended up telling the manager about the situation because it broke my heart honestly and I didn’t want anything to fall on me if things went sideways. What are your thoughts ? What would you have done ? When would you have done it ?

Prompt: The Variants of Vampires. Think of an alternative vampire that survives on something other than blood. Write a story or scene based on this character.
As the sun faded over the horizon, Vlad’s eyes opened slowly. A sigh escaped his cold lips, and he stretched his long legs onto the red velvet lining of his coffin. Another day has come. He thought sadly, as he had everyday for last 206 years.
He checked his timepiece in the left chest pocket of his silk pajamas, 8:36 p.m. Thankful for the spring sun that set earlier than it would in the coming months, he pushed on the heavy hardwood lid of his resting place. With a creak the wood swung open, landing heavily to the side. While a modern coffin would no doubt be lighter, and easier to open every evening, this one was sentimental to him. As he had been buried in this exact coffin 206 years ago, at 35 years old.
With a heavy sigh, Vlad rose and climbed onto the step that sat beside his coffin. His stomach rumbled, and he knew he had no choice but to venture to the kitchen of his estate home. With his head hung low, he began to undress.
You see, Vlad was not like other vampires. His long life was full of loneliness, even for one who was undead. When he had first been turned by his Maker he was optimistic, excited even, for the wonders of the world he would be able to see. With no time limit, no fear of death, and an infinite supply of food walking the earth- the possibilities stretched before him like the vastness of the night sky.
However, Vlad was unable to satiate the hunger that filled him, that turned him into a ravenous beast, night after night. The mere thought of blood churned his stomach, much to his Maker’s chagrin.
Isabel was her name. Even the thought of her filled him with longing. Her had loved her once, and she him, until they learned the truth: Vlad could not be sustained by blood, but one of the things that all Vampires feared: Garlic. Of all things. The thought still flooded him with embarrassment, even after more than two centuries of living as a Vampire.
He climbed the steps from his dirt cellar, whose entrance lay hidden behind a false door that led into the Master bedroom of his estate. He lifted the heavy wooden lever that would propel the door open to his closet. The clever vault disguised by many shelves of his expensive leather shoes. He kept an armoire near his coffin for convenience, as sometimes he awoke before the sun had set. A terrible habit he picked up 50 years prior.
He wound his way from the closet into the room, down the long hallway, and the curved staircase to the first floor. His heavy footsteps echoed eerily in his quiet manse, as his staff had already left at the end of their workday, thinking that he was abroad on business. A ruse which was quickly growing thin. Soon I shall have to replace my staff again, how much easier this dreary life would be if I could simply drink from them. He mused.
Vlad had no excitement for the night, as even the mere smell of his skin repulsed those of his kind. He was unable to rejoin his coven, the one that he had briefly reveled in. Expensive goblets of crisp red blood he could not drink, dances and guests from around the globe each night, the women with their necks adorned with jewels, some thought long lost to the mortals of the world, but safely stashed in the secret rooms of the elites of the Vampire world. The men in their black tuxedos, fashionable hairstyles and long white teeth often exposed in laughter. His tenure in his coven had been short, merely days, but it had been a lifestyle he mourned. He and Isabel had tried to make things work… But this train of thought was far too painful, and his stomach panged once again, so he quickened his steps and focused once again on his coming meal.
He made his way into the back kitchen, not the formal kitchen he would have likely entertained Isabel in (if he was a “normal” Vampire), but into the staff kitchen where the fridges were, and food was prepared and stored. Rows and rows of dried garlic bundles hung from the exposed wooden beams, all harvested from the garden on the grounds.
Vlad once again rued his life, as he wished the preparation of his meal didn’t fall to him each night. But he reached up and took down a bundle, released a corm from its tight knot, and sat at the stool at the quartz countertop, grabbing for one of his Japanese Damascus knives that made his task of slicing his garlic head easy.
Briefly inspired, Vlad decided a garlic comfit would be nice, and he got to work.

All right here it is finally, thank you all for your patience and let's hope chapter 5 is a little more expedient. As usual I hope you enjoy and would love to get everyone's thoughts.
4: Memory transcription subject: Zeak, Harchen orphan, citizen of the Venlil Republic. Date: standardized human time July 13th 2136.
The sky was a roaring mass of fire and pungent black smoke that choked out the light of the sun. As I ran down the street, green blood flowed like a broad shallow river. It splashed up with every step I took, sticking to my scales, the smell of it made me feel sick. As the piercing wail of the emergency sirens seemed to grow louder and louder with every step I took making my ears ring and filling my head with a thunderous pain. My heart pounded, my lungs were on fire, and my legs felt like they were made of lead.
A herd of towering blurry figures appeared out of nowhere and ran past me, some almost knocking me down. In their panic they began to look more like crazed wild animals than people. I cried for help but they couldn't hear me. I waved my paws then grabbed one of them a male Venlil, tightening my grip with all the strength I had hoping this would get his attention. He threw me off like I was trash, less than trash. I turned around and continued pleading for anyone to help me, reaching out for others. But their frantic idiot eyes looked only straight ahead and not down, never down, as the herd passed me.
I turned back around and continued to run, blood splashing up soaking me all the way to my knees. I stumbled, my legs were so tired I could barely stand, and I fell down catching myself, plunging my paws into blood as deep as my wrists. I felt myself scream but I couldn't hear it over the ringing in my ears. A scrap of paper gently floated past me, a single word written on it that echoed in my mind “Weakling.” It passed and four more took its place, “Coward”, “Liar”, “Oath breaker”, “Murderer.” I screamed in rage and slapped the pieces of paper aside, blood splashing onto my snout, but the meanings of those words remained. Getting back up I stumbled forward, and fell down again. Then with an effort born out of sheer desperation I managed to stand again lurching forward. My legs were too tired to run but I had to keep going, I had to save them. Or at least her, please Protector if you're listening please let me save at least her.
It felt like I was searching for an endless time. Lurching forward, stumbling, falling down, getting back up, lurching forward once more. Eventually I saw it and my heart fell into the pit of my stomach. My family's car was turned over on its roof, the driver's side had been caved in. It was engulfed in fire and thick black smoke that rose up into the sky. I struggled forward and when I reached it I collapsed, my knees hitting the hot pavement. The smell of burning metal and something else I didn't know assaulted my senses making my stomach turn. Every muscle in my body begged me to run away. Calling out their names l looked inside, and a wave of nausea and horror flooded through me.
I turned away and vomited, then reached up with my blood soaked paws and covered my eyes. Those words thundered in my head making me think it was going to burst open, as hot tears welled up. “WEAKLING! COWARD! LIAR! OATH BREAKER! MURDERER! MURDERER! MURDERER! MURDERER! “I'm sorry I'm sorry, I should have stayed, I should have helped. Why did I run?” I wailed, still unable to hear myself. Someone rested a delicate paw on my shoulder, and the world went quiet. As the pain in my head melted away.
My eyes snapped open and I was greeted by the gentle ringing of my alarm. In a rush of adrenaline I leaped out of bed not even bothering to wipe the sleep out of my eyes. Running out of my bedroom and down the narrow hallway towards the living room. Convincing myself It had all just been a horrible, horrible nightmare and everything was alright. Mom and Dad would be fixing breakfast, Dad softly singing a Harchen folk song while making something savory and delicious as mom sang along in harmony, preparing something special for my baby sister Naila. Oh yes and Naila, she would probably be sitting on a cushion in the sunny part of the living room. Holding her crooked tail, a birth defect which my parents said could be fixed when she was older. And making excited chirping noises at my arrival, while sunlight shone against her emerald scales. I loved my baby sister, I knew other kids resented having a younger sibling. Dismissing their responsibilities and spending less time with their family and more with their friends. I never once felt that way, the moment Naila hatched I devoted every spare minute I had to her. Finding music that would help her fall asleep, watching over her when my mom needed a break. Excitedly telling her about the day's events and what I learned at school, especially what I learned in computer science which was my favorite class.
“Mom! Dad!” I yelled bursting into the living room. “I just had the worst…” My voice trailed off as I was greeted with nothing “dream.” My heart tightened painfully in my chest, as I frantically ran through the house throwing open every door, knowing that they had to be here somewhere. They were just playing a game on me that was all, a game I would tell them I didn't appreciate. After the final door had been opened and no one was there to yell “Surprise!” My body slumped and I felt heavy as reality set back in, and the memories of what happened hit me like a hammer. I made my way back down the hall to my room, tail dragging behind me as I crawled back into bed. Wrapping myself tightly in a blanket, trying to find some comfort.
It must have been hours I lay there feeling numb all over, wishing I could get up the energy to just cry. I think I might have fallen asleep at one point. If I did it was a dreamless sleep, thank the stars for that. Eventually I did get up, sitting cross-legged on my bed, resting my chin in my paws, staring holes into the wall. I took a deep breath and side numbly looked out the window, searching for anything to distract myself with.
It was overcast, and eerily quiet. The emergency sirens had stopped blaring yesterday mere hours after everyone had gotten to the bunkers. The bodies of the dead had already been collected and their blood cleaned from the pavement. So as to not attract any predators into the neighborhood. I saw my neighbor A'shul was home, his white vehicle was sporting some new dents. I wondered, when he got into his vehicle yesterday morning and drove to the nearest bunker; did he try to help anyone? Or was he thinking only of himself? I suppose it didn't matter really. Nothing mattered.
I turned my head away and looked around my small room taking in everything, every trinket, misplaced item, my old second-hand desk, a big green crackle finished monster. Better suited for a Venlil than a young Harchen, heck I needed a stool just to use it. I had gotten it for basically nothing about a year ago, when the local extermination office was getting rid of their old furniture. All it took was a small bribe and they put it in my bedroom when no one was home. My parents, but especially my mom we're not happy when they saw it the next day. They would tell me at least once a week that It was too big for me and they were going to get rid of that eyesore. “Wouldn't you like something a little more modern dear?” My mom would ask, practically pleading for me to say yes. I used to pray that my parents would just shut up and stop bugging me about that stupid desk. I thought it was great, it made me think of private detective Bal from the exterminators show. Bal was a no nonsense Harchen who was so often pivotal in tracking down the predator or predator diseased person. My desk was very similar to his and that's why I wanted it. But at that moment, I would have given anything to hear those words again.
On the desk there was an ornate wooden box, with a fruit tree in full bloom delicately carved into its lid. There were also scuff marks where it had been dropped, and a deep crack running down the center. It was known as a blessing box, Naila's blessing box to be specific. When she hatched nearly ten months ago the whole neighborhood had been invited to come and write a blessing on a scrap of paper and put it in the box. I had written one too, not a blessing but a promise, a promise I couldn't keep. The belief was that if kept near the infant, the combined power of all those blessings would keep the hatchling safe until their first birthday. Where on that day the box would be set on fire and burned to ash. Releasing those blessings back into the world so they may protect someone else. It was an old tradition and not commonly practiced anymore, but as my dad always said “It is important to keep the old traditions alive my son. Both in song and action.” I remember asking him why? And he looked at me like he had been waiting for that question for a long time. “Because” He said, his tail moving with authority. “Someday when you lose your way, and you don't know where to turn to. You will always have something to guide you back to your center.”
Looking away from the box not wanting to look or think about the damn thing, I shifted my gaze down to my bedside table. There was a little holographic projector showing pictures of me, Mom, Dad and Naila on holiday back on Fahl, the Harchen home world to see family. I was born and raised on Venlil prime, so I didn't really know any of my extended family. There was a picture of my mom and Naila sleeping at the beach. Naila’s crooked tail coiled around mom’s arm, their scales a deep emerald in the light of the sun. The picture changed to me and Dad putting the finishing touches on a sand skyscraper taller than him. I had to sit on his shoulders to place the last bucket full of sand on top. Both of our scales were as blue as the ocean. My tail flicked sadly thinking of that day. I reached over and turned the holo protector off.
My holopad lay next to me flashing, alerting me to an urgent message. I hadn't really looked at my holopad since yesterday morning. Picking it up I tapped the flashing icon. It was an official government statement signed by Governor Tarva herself, saying that the humans Noah and Sarah were peaceful explorers, and that they only wished to be our friends. ‘No, that's impossible, they’re predators. Predators don't want peace, they want to conquer, kill and eat us,’ stunned and confused I kept reading. The rest of the message stated that the two human scientists were completely unaware there was intelligent life of any kind on Venlil prime. ‘No! Lies! Predator lies!’ I yelled inside my head. Something hot began to form in my chest as I read the last bit. Governor Tarver had shown the two predators footage of the Arxur torturing Venlil pups. It said that the humans were capable of empathy and felt deeply saddened and angered by what they saw. They vowed to do everything in their power to get their united nations into the war against the Arxur.
I scrolled all the way down and what I saw stopped me cold. Standing in her office being flanked by General Kam, stood Governor Tarva. Beside them looming over the two Venlil one bigger than the other, both of them covered in some sort of protective suit. Their faces were obscured by dark visored helmets. It said that the larger of the two Noah was male, and the smaller one was Sarah female. Sarah had her hands clasped in front of her, while Noah kept his to his side. Neither were acting threatening, and neither Tarva or Kam looked to be harmed in any way.
Something in me snapped, that hot thing inside my chest erupted and I could feel my scales turn black. I very carefully set my holopad down beside me, then I uncrossed my legs and got out of bed. I stood there in the center of my room shaking slightly, feeling terribly calm as white hot rage flooded my body, spreading to my paws and all the way out to the tip of my long tail. It never had to happen, the panic, the stampede, the death, we could have stayed home and avoided those people. ‘No… no not people,’ a bitter thought came over me. ‘They're not people at all, people stop and help, like that Venlil girl Kayleik, she was a person maybe the only one. But the rest of them were just wild animals, masquerading as sentient beings. ‘Do you really think you're any better, coward?’ Some internal voice said.
A sudden impulse took control of me and I grabbed my desks stool and hurled it against the wall. It dented the wall and bounced off still in one piece. Enraged, I leaped forward grabbing it by the legs, then turned around and slammed it into my desk. The sheet metal dented and the green crackle finish paint flew off, but the stool made of good dense wood from the string fruit tree stayed whole. “DAMN THEM! DAMN THEM! DAMN THEM! DAMN THEM!” I screamed, slamming the stool down again and again, my tail whipping wildly, striking the bed and the floor. The tip of my tail began to hurt, which only fueled my anger. Finally I heard cracking and wood began to splinter off. They didn't have to die, we could have stayed home. The muscles in my shoulders burned and my heart pounded as hot tears began to well up. I brought it down one final time narrowly avoiding the blessing box, and the stool broke in two. I hurled the pieces away from me, one slamming into the corner the other crashing through the window.
I leaned against the desk catching my breath as tears flowed freely. ‘Well that definitely showed them didn't it. Hey I got a great idea! Let's go break some more stuff, that will definitely make you feel better. Idiot!’ That internal voice said all coldness and bitterness. As I cried, the burning in my chest cooled, and I was filled with the same numbness as before. After a while my stomach growled, reminding me I hadn't eaten since yesterday. I moved sluggishly out of my bedroom and went straight to the kitchen, quickly grabbed some fruit and left to go and watch the view screen or something. The moment I entered the living room, memories came flooding back. Mom and Dad laughing, Naila sleeping peacefully, the lingering aroma of breakfast, and the warmth of our home. But now it was all gone and I was alone. For the first time in my life, I had no one to go to.
It was right then I realized I couldn't stay here anymore. This place felt like a tomb, all cold and filled with the memories of the dead. Besides, if I stayed here someone would eventually send the authorities to come and get me. Ship me off to an orphanage, foster care or maybe to my extended family back on Fahl. I balked at the idea of being forced to live with people I didn't know or trust. Memories of yesterday's stampede invaded my mind and I shuddered. I couldn't trust any of them not anymore. No, there was one person I could think of that maybe I could trust. Turning around I went back to my room, found my backpack and grabbed my holopad, the blessing box, the holo projector and my blanket stuffing it into my pack. Then I went to the kitchen and filled my pack up the rest of the way with dried fruit and vegetable snacks. With my backpack looking like it was going to burst I shouldered it and made my way to the front door. When I rested my scaly paw on the door handle I stopped and looked back at the place that was once my home. “Goodbye” I said in a shaky voice, knowing this would be the last time I would never set foot in this house. With my head low I opened the door and stepped out, into the dim light of a new unfamiliar world.
Previous First

Previous Part
I woke up to the smell of sausage and eggs. Over by the side of my bed was a tray with a masterfully prepared omelet and sausage to match. That’s not what caught my eye though. What did that was the little note stuck to the side of they tray.
“Sorry for terrorizing you- R”
Was scrawled in barley legible hand writing, Rocco’s I imagined.
“So it can cook but not write?”
I muttered to myself as I got out of bed.
A fresh change of clothes was laid out for me and I decided just not to question it. The clothes fit perfectly and I tried not to let my mind wander as to why that was while I ate breakfast. Rocco’s omelet was outstanding, for a trash panda he made a great cook but I have no idea where he would’ve picked that up. After I finished I brought my dishes downstairs and ran into Stein in the kitchen.
“The clothes fit don’t they? My eyes aren’t what they used to be, I should’ve just sent Rocco up to ask your size.”
“No no, they fit fine, and please don’t send Rocco to do anything without telling me. I think that might just give me a heart attack on the spot. I’m still really not used to all… this going on”
I said gesturing to the raccoon who had wandered into the kitchen and was now flipping me the bird with both his paws.

Stein nodded to me with what I hoped was understanding. As much as Rocco seemed harmless (Maybe… hopefully?) I really didn’t want the furry little demon arriving anywhere near me unexpectedly. We already saw how that went in the basement yesterday. I finished washing my dishes in the sink as Stein ate his breakfast. He seemed so calm and normal, compared to the things I’d seen in this house so far. If you took one look at Bianca you say she looked too good to be true. Rocco is… well, he’s a talking raccoon, that’s immediately strange. But when it came to Frank and Stein you couldn’t tell there was anything off about them. Honestly I still had trouble seeing where they fit into this whole thing.
I was lost in this train of thought as I went through the motions of taking my groceries out of the refrigerator where someone had put them. I didn’t even realize Bianca was standing behind me till she tapped my shoulder. Jumping out of my skin I screeched out,
“Jesus Rocco what the hell!”
Bianca went from serious to laughing hysterically in no time flat.
“He really has you spooked after last night doesn’t he?”
She barely got out between bouts of laughter.
“I’m sorry really, oh and I’ve got this for you.”
Chuckled Bianca, handing me a wad of cash with a face that didn’t look remotely sorry for laughing at me.
“Just for that I’ll take it! But I’ve got to ask, how do you have this much cash just lying around, isn’t that a little risky?”
“You’d have to ask my unc… Frank or Stein.”
Bianca answered, stumbling on the apparently familiar lie. As she said this Stein stood up from the table and answered my question.
“Researching the supernatural isn’t always safe but Germany pays its scientists well, even if we don’t work for them anymore.”
“Germany? When did you work with the German government?”
I asked, a sinking suspicion settling into the pit of my stomach.
“1941, The Führer requested me specifically and I met Frank there. Oh don’t look at me like that! I didn’t support his cause, he simply wanted to look into forces outside his control and that was my specialty. It was business nothing more.”
Stein responded, pointing his finger at me and sounding a little annoyed.
“But that would make you… there’s no way you’re that old. Uh I don’t mean!”
“Think nothing of it, if anything, it means our serum worked. Distilled it from the DNA of a few pureblooded vampires and designed it to slow human aging to a crawl.”
Bianca cut him off,
“Stein, I think I can see steam coming out his ears. Can we maybe give the supernatural stuff a rest? I know you’ve been around it all your life but I think its a bit much for him.”
“Yes, I suppose your right Bianca. I’ll leave you two be then.”
Stein surrendered, as he turned and walked out of the room. Like he hadn’t just dropped yet another bomb on me.
I held myself together much better this time. After talking raccoons and succubi, learning vampires apparently existed in such an offhanded manner just didn’t surprise me as much. At this point I was just about ready to accept any supernatural entity I’d ever heard of existed in some capacity. In fact that might be the best policy moving forward.
“Hey you’re not going to pass out on us again right?”
Bianca asked turning back to me, genuine concern in her voice.
“No, I’ll be fine. The more I hear about this kind of thing the better I am at just accepting it. It’s a lot easier hearing it from one of you guys than having it drop out of the sky at me.”
I joked, walking with Bianca to the door. I noticed my poor attempt at a joke was the first time I said anything about Imalone without feeling like someone would call me crazy. I couldn’t dwell on that for too long right now though, I had to drop off the groceries that had taken me a full day to get. In hindsight though, I’ve had worst trips to the grocery store.
The next few days passed without any real issues, I got things set up in the house and ordered some furniture with the money I got from Bianca. On the second day I figured I should go out and explore the town a bit. I was getting bored being cooped up doing normal things and apparently I wanted to throw a wrench in all that.
“Maybe a bar” I thought to myself as I walked out the door just as the sun had started to think about setting, “Those are always a good place to meet people”.
This is where I tell you I may be just a little awkward. Even back home I didn’t really get out and meet new people much but I figured now is as good a time as any to start. I threw together a quick outfit with the clothes I brought with me from home. Hopefully I looked at least a little bit presentable in khakis and a red dress shirt. I walked out my door and immediately saw Bianca’s house peering out over the town. I considered dropping by to see if Bianca wanted to join me. I had told her about the reasons I ended up in Eagles Peak but I still knew precious little about her. I assumed her past wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. I wanted to know what exactly drew someone like her to a sleepy little town like this. Maybe seeing if she wanted to join me would be a good opportunity to learn something about her? It’s entirely possible I just wanted to spend more time around her because she was drop dead gorgeous. Maybe it was because she was the first person I bumped into in town? I couldn’t put my finger on it and if we’re being honest I didn’t want to admit the real reason to myself.
That would have to wait for another day though. I had spent so much time thinking about it that by the time I snapped back to reality I was by the greyhound bus stop, well past her house. There was another bus stopped there and people were getting off of it. None of them looked like what I would call a local but its not like I’d really know what a “local” looked like here anyways. Still, this town couldn’t get this many visitors right? It was weird but probably had a completely reasonable explanation.
“The Eagle’s Roost” read the sign above the bar’s entrance, it was actually a pretty high class looking establishment. The fresh red paint gleamed against the faded whites and grays of the other buildings on the street. Inside, a well polished dark wood floor greeted me. The room was completed by a roaring stone fireplace and a well used set of stools by the counter.
“Hey there! Anyone home?!”
I called out into the empty bar.
“Give me a minute!”
Replied a deep gruff voice form the back room. Eventually a man emerged from the room, well I say man but what I mean was a mountain in human form. This guy had to be about 7 feet tall and built from solid granite. Seriously, the muscles on this guy would’ve put The Rock to shame.
“Little early to start drinkin’ isn’t it?”
The mountain grunted judgmentally.
“Well I’m new here I just wanted to see the town. I could come back later if you want.”
“New, why didn’t you say so! New here, I haven’t seen anyone new here in years! come sit down if you’ve got questions about this place I can probably answer them!”
The now elated giant boomed at me. He turned hospitable in an instant, offering me a drink on the house for his poor manners before. His name was Tucker and he’d come to the town years ago as a foreman for it’s mine. The mine dried up and the workers moved on but something about this town spoke to him and he decided to stay. He opened up this bar and the rest is history. Something about the way he talked about the mine did’t sit right with me though. He kept mentioning how it dried up like he was trying to convince me that was what happened. Plus a mine out here didn’t exactly make much sense to me.
“So you run this place alone then?”
I asked, more to be polite than out of genuine curiosity. We had started to run out of things to talk about after conversation about the mine dried up much like it apparently had.
“Never needed any help besides my wife’s, but most days I just run the place alone, yes. No sense in hiring help here, not many people looking for work outside of the ones working at that grocery store down the street. Anyways I should get back to work, its getting to be about time we actually open to the public.”
I turned my head to look at the sign I now realized was stuck to the door. “Eagle’s Roost Hours: 6PM-1AM every night”. I realized with embarrassment I had walked through the door an hour before opening. Tuck had been nothing but friendly though, and I almost felt bad for assuming the locals like him would want to shoo me away. After all, everyone I’d met so far had been nothing but nice, not including Rocco that is.
As I turned my attention back to my drink I thought about the mine again. I hadn’t seen any records of the mine Tuck mentioned in my internet searches of the town before I came here. Honestly it had been incredibly difficult to dig up anything on the town. I wasn’t necessarily the most thorough in my search, but mines tend to be a staple of the towns they’re located in. This mine in particular seems to be what the town was built on. I’m not sure what had me so worked up on this mine issue but I was sure it was important. I sat there at the bar, mulling it over and sipping on my drink when a hand slapped down on my shoulder.
The man it was attached to said something but I couldn’t catch it even if I wanted to. I was far to laser focused on the mark seared black into the mans hand, the exact same eagle that was burned into my back. I pushed him off and bolted for the door, all I heard behind me was the mans confused “What?” And Tuck shouting at him.
“Now what in the Blazes did you do to the poor kid Robert!”
I shot off into the street from the bar, no one was chasing me but the fact that the symbol was here had set me off like a deer running from a gunshot.
“What the hell happened to you?”
Called a now familiar, heavily accented voice from the alleyway.
“Rocco, what are you doing out here?”
I questioned, bewildered at finding him out in the open. I’d never admit it but seeing a familiar face, even Rocco’s, calmed me down a little
“I’m a raccoon in an alleyway, what do you think I’m doing, fishing? No, I’m rootin' around in the trash, Frank needs some lithium foil and he can’t be bothered to run out and buy some batteries himself, stingy bastard.”
He retorted, looking for all intents and purposes like a normal raccoon at the moment.
“Even if I were to guess I wouldn’t have even come close to that.”
“I live to surprise”
Rocco sneered, taking a bow dripping with sarcasm.
“Anyways Frank is back at the house right? There’s something I’ve got to tell him.”
I asked, turning and running as soon as I got a response in the affirmative.
“Yeah he is, what exactly is so importa…. And he’s gone”
I made it to their strange high house in record time and burst through the door like I owned the place. For some reason Bianca seemed completely unfazed as I crashed into the entryway without so much as a knock.
“You know, you don’t live here right?”
“Oh yeah, good to see you too Bianca. Anyways, were is Frank, or Stein for that matter I’ve got something to ask.”
“They’re in the basement.”
Bianca said pointing to the door without looking up from the book she was reading.
Her dismissive attitude didn’t even register to me as I made my way down the basement steps. I got to the bottom and an acrid scent assaulted my nostrils.
“Do I even want to know what that is?”
I called into the basement, announcing my presence. Frank emerged from a room to my side decked out in a full lab coat and goggles along with a hairnet to protect what little of his still remained.
“What do you need?”
“You guys seem to know a lot about the supernatural right? Well, does this symbol mean anything to you?”
I said pulling off my shirt and turning my back to show him the mark that woman had left me with. His reaction could best be described by the sound of shattering glass as he dropped the beaker he was holding as he saw the symbol.
“Where did you get that?!”
He yelled more than asked.
“Back in Imalone.”
“Imalone? What’s that supposed to mean?”
It dawned on me that I hadn’t explained it to him like I had Bianca, so I filled him in. I told him the whole truth this time, where the mark came from, what really drove me to Eagles Peak, all of it. Frank listened diligently looking more concerned by the minute, at some point Stein joined him. A similarly shocked look was plastered across his face. I swear he was turning white when he answered my question.
“It’s the mark of the Thunderbird, and from what you told us, you met… her in person.”
“So why do you look so worried about it?”
I asked, feeling a little worried.
“Well she’s marked you personally, most people that have that mark would’ve gotten it to show devotion or allegiance and it certainly wouldn’t have come directly from the Thunderbird.”
The way Stein talked about this “Thunderbird” made me think I may be in even deeper shit than I realized.
“So do you two actually know anything about the Thunderbird?”
I asked, hoping these two would know something considering their long study of the supernatural.
“Until recently I only knew of the native legends surrounding the creature. I heard of people marking themselves with that symbol so I assumed there must be some truth to the legends. But neither me nor Frank has ever seen the Thunderbird, much less seen it..er, her take a human form.”
Stein answered, sounding almost disappointed in himself. I got the sense that not knowing something like this really ate at him. Which was just further proven by what he said next, a grin suddenly appearing on his face.
“Frank, I think we have our next big research project on our hands then.”
“I’ll start pulling any records I can find of accounts like Keith’s here.”
Frank said, hurrying over to a computer in the basement corner that looked ancient.
“Yes and compare those to the various legends surrounding the Thunderbird.”
Stein responded, rifling through a row of cabinets against the far wall.
Those two seemed to be whipped into a frenzy by something they knew next to nothing about being dropped in their laps.
“Guys… Guys! Can we hold off on going full mad scientist mode for just a second I’ve got one more thing to ask!”
I yelled trying to get their attention. when they turned to me I could see the spark in both their eyes as they hastily responded in unison.
“Yes, what!”
“Have either of you heard about a mine in this town? Tuck at “Eagle’s Roost” mentioned it but I don’t remember seeing anything about it when I looked into this town.”
“Ah the mine, it’s out in the forest north of town somewhere. There was a collapse or something a few years after it opened and the town covered it up. It would’ve been very embarrassing for them to admit the screw up so they just… didn’t, that’s all there is too it.”
Frank answered, seemingly bothered by the mundaneness of that question.
“So the mine is still out there then?”
“Of course! What did you think it just walked away? No, leave us be we’ve got work to do.”
Stein snapped.
As I left the two to their business and made my way out of the house I ran into Rocco, several grimy batteries grasped in his paws.
“They uh… I don’t think they’ll need those batteries anymore bud.”
“God damnit! That’s what I get for trying to be helpful.”
Rocco yelled, as he threw the batteries against the wall. I had to chuckle at the absurdity of it all. Here I was walking past a talking raccoon on his way down to two scientists looking into a Thunderbird. That’s a real thing that’s currently happening to me. Just a few days ago simply seeing Rocco knocked me out almost immediately and now he was just a minor inconvenience. Could it be that I was actually adjusting to all the crazy things that had been happening around me? I sure thought so.
Upstairs, Bianca was still nose deep in her book at the kitchen table.
“Hey can I ask you something?”
“Yeah sure, what is it?”
“Ever been into the woods around town? There’s something I want to check out there.”
“I don’t usually leave the house all that much if I’m honest.”
Bianca answered, a touch of sadness in her voice.
“Do you want too? Leave the house I mean.”
“What are you getting at?”
“Well, I’m going to be headed out there tomorrow looking for the old mine.”
“And why are you looking for that?”
She questioned suspiciously.
“I have a feeling it has something to do with the mark that woman… and I forgot I didn’t tell you about that.”
Bianca looked up at me as she said with a smirk.
“I knew there was more to that story from the other night. Why didn’t you tell me?”
I’ll spare you the details but needless to say I told the story again. I really need to start bringing everyone together when I do these things, it would save me time.
“So that’s why you came here, and you think this mine has something to do with it?”
Bianca exclaimed excitedly. I could almost see the lightbulb going off over her head.
“Yeah that’s pretty much it, do you want to come with? I mean you don’t have to go but I”
She cut me off,
“You know what maybe I should go. Two sets of eyes gives us better odds right? And you have a bad history with forgotten places I seem to recall.”
Bianca said with a coy smile.
“That’s what we’ll do then, I’ll get some things ready and stop by tomorrow, we’ll leave from there.”
And before she had a chance to rethink her answer I left feeling pleased with myself.
My next stop was the hardware store on the other side of town. Of course I still had my travel bag from the good old Imalone trip but I figured I’d pick up some more tools that could come in handy.. I ended up with two heavy duty flashlights, some work gloves of various sizes cause I had no idea what size would fit Bianca, and a set of bolt cutters. It was only when I got up to the counter and the clerk gave me the stink eye that I noticed my mistake.
“You planning to break into something kid?”
Questioned the older guy cashing me out. I responded before my brain caught up with my mouth.
“I was planning on it but you guys didn’t sell balaclavas. So I guess I’ll have to wait.”
The man eyed me for a second then burst out laughing as he handed me my things. Which was good because I knew a few places back in Wisconsin where pulling that would’ve got me pulled into a backroom for questioning. Not a lot of people knew how to take a joke back home. Weirdly enough it was the first time I thought of home since coming here. Obviously I had family back there but we weren’t exactly close like I said before. I just found myself missing the familiarity of the area I had lived in for the past 24 years of my life. I think that’s why I came to the decision to call my mother when I got home later that night.
The whole walk home I had this strange feeling of being watched. No-one was there, I’m sure because I checked… several times. But even as I locked the door to my house and starting sorting out a bag of supplies for Bianca, the feeling didn’t go away. As I pulled out my phone to call my mother the feeling finally faded into the background as I got her familiar answering machine.
“Hi, you’ve reached Carla, leave your name and number after the tone.”
Straight and to the point as quickly as possible, that was the best way to describe mom and it showed even in her answering machine.
“Hi mom I bet you’re wondering where I ended up. Well I’m in New York now, in a sleepy little town. Its nice really, I already met some new people they’re… well they’re a bit strange but I think I might fit in with them. I’m still looking for a job but I had a really well paying temp thing the other day so I’ll be fine for a little while. Anyways, hope you’re doing well, love you.”
I teared up a bit as I ended the call, I hadn’t called my mother in at least a year. She never checked up on me and I never checked in with her. We’d see each other at family gatherings and talk but outside of that I didn’t really contact her much anymore. It was sort of a mutual agreement that we both had, we assumed the other was alright. But being this far from Wisconsin, this far from home, had finally caught up with me. I wanted to at least hear her voice, even if it was just a recording.
As I finished up packing for tomorrow I was quite proud of myself. I’d thought of just about everything, I dug some old hiking boots out for myself and some rope from my old travel bag. Several different sets of flint and steel and about three days worth of dehydrated food adorned the top pocket of both bags. I’d even found an old water purification kit that ended up in one of the duffle bags I brought from my apartment. In short, I was the most over prepared for an excursion like this I’d ever been. It did help push back the eyes I felt peering at me from somewhere over my shoulder, the feeling of being watched still not leaving me. Once I laid down and tried to fall asleep the feeling only intensified. Sounds of rolling thunder in the distance reminding me of my time in Imalone and the fury of the storm the Thunderbird brought. I felt strangely confident as well though, tomorrow Bianca and I may finally start to uncover some answers as to why I felt called to this town, and maybe even what this mark could mean for me.

Two days ago I went to the ER due to stomach problems and a Pepto black stool scare lol. Blood work came back completely clean, but I tested positive for occult blood after a rectal exam.
I'm trying to look more into exactly what could be wrong with me, although I know it's basically impossible to tell until I get a colonoscopy. I'm a 20 year old woman, never broken a bone or had stitches or surgery or anything like that. I've always been pretty healthy, but recently I've been kinda hard on my body. I used to drink black coffee daily, sometimes on an empty stomach. I have irregular eating habits due to stress changing my appetite, which caused me to lose some weight. I get frequent headaches and migraines as well, so I took a shit ton of pain killers.
Some of my symptoms are really scaring me, like my abdomen gets really tight sometimes, usually in the morning when I first wake up. I've been sweating excessively, my heart rate is up, and while its not black or tarry or bloody, my poops have been irregular for about three months. I got diagnosed with GERD, so I wonder if that could have anything to do with the occult blood. My father deals with heart burn and is medicated for it, but colon cancer doesn't run in my family as far as I know.
I've been worrying myself to death that I'll bleed to death or I have gastritis or something. Chronic illness is so terrifying to me, especially at such a young age. I just pray that this is just an ulcer or hemorrhoids or something.
How do I relax? I feel like the anxiety is worsening my symptoms and I need to calm down. This is so scary..

What’s up. I’ve been taking b12 and b9 recently and noticing iron levels fluctuating. I already take non heme iron Glyscinate alongside vitamin c typically 2g. Most my stools are dark and black from Undigested iron. How can I improve this? Orange juice worked amazingly in the past but I have a b1 deficiency and sugar will just absolute destroy my nervous system right now. So orange juice is off the table and other sugary options. Even the sugar in coconut water is too much for me in my treatment these days.

BerbaPrime Berberine offers notable benefits in blood sugar regulation and metabolic enhancement, making it a viable option for those looking to manage diabetes-related symptoms or improve their metabolic health.
However, its effects on weight loss and appetite control are somewhat moderate, and it may not live up to the expectations set by its strong marketing claims, which can feel a bit hyped up.
For weight management & appetite suppression, I would rate it at 3/5.
For those specifically seeking more effective appetite suppression and weight loss, alternatives like PhenQ or Instant Knockout, which contain glucomannan—a soluble fiber that promotes a feeling of fullness—might provide more direct and noticeable results in these areas.
In my opinion, these alternatives are better designed to tackle weight management more robustly by directly suppressing appetite and enhancing metabolic rates than Berbaprime alone.
If you're exploring Berberine as a supplement to manage your blood sugar and potentially cut down on your appetite, here's my honest scoop from firsthand use. It works along similar lines as Metformin by affecting the same metabolic pathway, which is a big plus if you're familiar with diabetes treatments.
However, it's gentler on the stomach compared to Metformin. But keep in mind, if you're already on Metformin, adding Berberine could be overkill, so it's crucial to consult your doctor first.
Also recommend this article on Medium on recommended berberine supplements.
I've noticed some immediate effects, like a bit of a loose stool at first, but this side effect tapered off pretty quickly. More importantly, it significantly cuts down my appetite, although NOT as strongly as other potent appetite suppressants.
This was a real game-changer for me, especially during mid-day cravings that used to be my downfall. If you're on a specific diet like keto, it might be a boon for managing those pesky carb cravings, making it easier to stay on track with your dietary goals.
Lastly, not all Berberine supplements are created equal. I switched to a dihydroberberine form from a slow-release tablet, which was more effective and way easier on my gut compared to the standard Berberine HCL capsules that gave me a hard time with stomach pain.
This type of Berberine is more bioavailable, meaning you get more bang for your buck at lower doses.
If you're juggling other medications, especially statins or thyroid meds, heads up—Berberine could mess with their effectiveness. Always discuss with your healthcare provider before starting it, treat it like any other serious medication, because it really can impact your health regimen significantly.
Nopal cactus or Glucomannan based weight loss pills seem to have much better safety profile, so if you’re looking for better & safer solutions, stick to those.

Introduction
If you are on the lookout for a natural way to suppress your appetite and aid your weight loss efforts, you might have come across BerbaPrime Berberine. This supplement boasts a high-strength Berberine HCL at 97% concentration, each dose delivering a hefty 1500mg.
What sets it apart from other berberine brands is not just its strength, but also its claims of supporting a healthy metabolism, managing cholesterol levels, and keeping blood sugar in check.
All these features sound great, especially if you are trying to manage or prevent issues linked to metabolic health. But let's take a look into what it's like using BerbaPrime daily, from a real user's perspective.

Pros & Cons of BerbaPrime Berberine as a Natural Ozempic Alternative

Pros:

• Blood Sugar Control: Highly effective in regulating blood sugar levels, mimicking some of the glucose-management effects of Ozempic.
• Metabolic Health: Activates AMPK, supporting improved metabolic processes and potentially aiding in weight management.
• Inflammatory Response Reduction: Offers anti-inflammatory benefits that can enhance insulin sensitivity and overall metabolic health.
• Gut Health Support: Positively impacts the gut microbiome, promoting a healthier digestive system which is essential for overall metabolic health.
• Safety Profile: Generally well-tolerated with a good safety profile, manufactured in facilities that follow high-quality standards.

Cons:

• Limited Energy Boosting: Does not significantly enhance energy levels, which may affect motivation for increased physical activity.
• Moderate Appetite Suppression: Less effective at directly suppressing appetite compared to Ozempic, impacting its efficacy in weight management.
• Variable Weight Loss Results: May not directly lead to significant weight loss, with effects on weight being less consistent and less pronounced.
• Initial Digestive Discomfort: Some users may experience gastrointestinal side effects such as stomach upset, especially when beginning the supplement.

Evaluation of BerbaPrime Berberine as a Natural Ozempic Alternative
1. Blood Sugar Regulation: 4/5 BerbaPrime Berberine effectively aids in stabilizing blood sugar levels, mimicking some of Ozempic's effects, due to its potent berberine content which activates AMPK, an enzyme crucial for glucose metabolism. Alternative: Cinnamon supplements are another natural option, known for helping to improve insulin sensitivity and lower blood sugar levels.
2. Appetite Modulation: 3/5 While BerbaPrime Berberine can help stabilize blood sugar, which indirectly aids in controlling appetite, it is less effective at directly suppressing hunger compared to Ozempic. Alternative: Glucomannan, and Nopal cactus are dietary fibes, that might be more effective in creating a feeling of fullness, helping to reduce overall calorie intake.
3. Metabolic Enhancement: 3/5 BerbaPrime Berberine activates AMPK, which can enhance metabolic health by improving how the body uses energy, though its impact may not be as substantial or immediate in terms of boosting calorie and fat burn as Ozempic. Alternative: Green tea extract, which contains catechins and caffeine, has been shown to increase metabolic rate and fat oxidation.
4. Energy Optimization: 2/5 BerbaPrime Berberine may support better glucose utilization, which can indirectly contribute to increased energy levels; however, it does not directly enhance energy in a noticeable way that supports increased physical activity like Ozempic might. Alternative: Coenzyme Q10 (CoQ10) supplements can boost energy by enhancing cellular energy production, particularly beneficial for increasing vitality and endurance.
5. Weight Management Support: 3/5 BerbaPrime Berberine can aid in weight management by improving metabolic health and reducing insulin resistance, which helps in the fat reduction process, but it may not directly cause significant weight loss. Alternative: Nopal cactus, Glucomannan, Garcinia Cambogia. Garcinia has been popular for its hydroxycitric acid content, which can reduce appetite and inhibit the production of new fats, offering more direct support for weight loss.
6. Safety and Tolerability Profile: 4/5 BerbaPrime Berberine is generally safe for most individuals when used as recommended, with its high-quality manufacturing practices ensuring product purity and safety. Some users may experience gastrointestinal discomfort initially, but it is typically well-tolerated. Alternative: Magnesium supplements are well-tolerated and offer numerous health benefits, including better blood sugar control and reduced insulin resistance, with minimal side effects.
7. Inflammatory Response Reduction: 3/5 BerbaPrime Berberine has anti-inflammatory properties that can contribute to reduced systemic inflammation, potentially improving insulin sensitivity and metabolic health. However, its effectiveness in significantly lowering inflammation compared to direct anti-inflammatory supplements is moderate. Alternative: Turmeric, especially when combined with black pepper (which enhances absorption), is highly effective at reducing inflammation due to its active compound curcumin, and it supports overall metabolic health.
8. Gut Health Improvement: 3/5 BerbaPrime Berberine can support gut health by modulating the gut microbiota, promoting the growth of beneficial bacteria, and reducing the population of harmful ones. While it offers some benefits, it may not be as potent or direct in improving overall digestive health as other specialized gut health supplements. Alternative: Probiotics are a direct and effective choice for enhancing gut health, improving digestion, nutrient absorption, and can also positively impact weight management and metabolic health.

The new gift-specific dialogue from the 1.6 update has me absolutely tickled pink! This one especially… I also haven’t practiced my creative writing in a while, and I decided it needed to happen sooner rather than later, so here, have a short story! Sorry if it's boring… I’m a little rusty!
“A Gift From The Void”
It was only yesterday… No one was quite sure where it had come from. There had been a sinister cackling noise ringing through the night air and Abigail had mentioned seeing an unidentifiable shape soaring through the sky during her walk home from the cemetery. The townsfolk gossiped and speculated about what it could have been that evening, but by the next morning they still hadn’t come to any reasonable explanation. It was only yesterday, and yet the entire village seemed to have already put it out of their minds and moved on. The scandal and chatter following the “Anchovy Soup Incident” at the Summer Luau several years back had lasted far longer than this… Even now Sam was still getting sideways glances whenever he got within a 20 foot radius of the soup cauldron, but this just blows over in less than a day? The priorities of small town people were strange.
Things had gone back to that same semblance of backwater, middle-of-nowhere kind of normal, and now the night had become just the same as any other Friday evening. Sebastian was playing a round of billiards with Sam, and while Sam was preoccupied with lining up the cue with his intended target ball, the farmer strolled into the saloon and up to the bar. Heads turned and raised to the newcomer for a moment before returning to whatever it was that had been previously holding their attention. Sebastian caught the sudden flourish of movement out of his periphery, but didn’t pay it much mind. The farmer ordered a coffee and a plate of the night’s special, and struck up a conversation with Gus about a peculiar egg that had materialized in their coop seemingly out of nowhere the night before. Apparently they’d decided to tuck it away into the incubator and wait to see what… if anything hatched from it.
Sebastian had never really been one to eavesdrop, but the wait for Sam to make his move was becoming boring, and sometimes the stories that passed around the saloon on Friday evenings got interesting depending on who all was involved. The story didn’t really go too far into detail. The farmer poked at their food until it had cooled enough to not scald the inside of their mouth, then they took a few bites before bringing up the events of the previous evening. What first started off as a funny story seemed to turn into some deep discussion with Gus about the mysteries of life. Eventually, Willy and Elliott were caught up in the mirth and it turned into a medley of strange tales from faraway lands and once-upon-a-times. Obviously exaggerated sightings of fearsome creatures on a midnight stormy sea, legends of colossal white whales, references to works written by masters of the mystery genre, as well as some from a trashy neo-noir novel or two that had probably been picked up from a bookstore clearance shelf.
Willy stroked his beard and mused about some daring battle between himself and a fish of questionable proportions that seemed to grow larger each time he told the story. Sebastian had heard this one before. The fight over the line had gone on for over an hour before the shadow of the fish rose near to the surface, and just before Willy could land the monster of a catch, it dove below again, taking the whole fishing rod overboard and nearly Willy himself with it.
Elliott gulped down the last few swigs of ale in his tankard, slapped the farmer firmly on the back, snorted and chuckled in an ungraceful yet jolly display that only ever crept out of him when he’d had a bit too much to drink.
“That fish becomes more miraculous each time he talks about it!” Elliott shook his head and smiled as he leaned almost a little too far forward. There was a slight sway to his posture and he tried to straighten his body back in line with the barstool. “To life, and her many little silly tricks of fate, my friends!” he declared. He raised the empty mug, and with his free hand, delicately tucked a few strands of stray hair behind his ear with the tips of his fingers. He rested his elbow back on the bar before he could lose his balance and sighed contently. Elliott’s cheeks were practically glowing red at this point and it was a wonder that he wasn’t slurring his words yet.
“Aye, you’ve all heard my fish story haven’t ye?” Willy chuckled. “How ‘bout the one about the Baba Yaga?” the farmer’s head tilted and they gazed curiously at the fisherman. Willy rested his foot on the crossbar of the barstool, lifted the rim of his hat out of his line of sight, and leaned into the counter. “Some know ‘er as the cannibal witch… others say she’s just a misunderstood haggard ol’ woman who lives alone out in woods or marshes. It’s said she lives a rickety old house that stands on chicken feet, and she likes to lure weary travelers into ‘er home, only to gobble ‘em up once they let their guard down. Apparently she’s especially fond of the taste of children…” He laughed in a hoarse tone and made strange spider-like gestures with his calloused hands as if he were telling campfire stories to a group of kids. The farmer’s nose wrinkled at the outlandish notion of some feral old woman devouring toddlers, and Willy laughed heartily at their reaction. “I think that last part the parents like to add into the story to frighten the little ones. It keeps ‘em from wondering into the forests and swamps alone at night.”
Sebastian rolled his eyes and glanced back to the pool table. He watched the cue ball clack into the twelve before the twelve bounced off the barriers in the corner of the table and rolled slowly to a stop on the felt surface without pocketing. Sam huffed and stood back upright.
“You really aren’t very good at this, are you?” Seb chimed as he returned his full attention to the game at hand. Sam grinned and laughed.
“Nope!”
“Watch and learn….” Sebastian took aim at the cue ball, and after a single firm strike, drove it into the tiny gap between the two and seven. The cue stopped hard, but the two and seven sped to the opposite corners of the foot of the table, each dropping into one of the corner pockets simultaneously. Sam scoffed and paced about the pool room, but looked back over his shoulder just in time to catch Sebastian with a triumphantly cheeky grin on his face. Sam clicked his tongue and lightly thumped the base of his cue stick into the floorboards.
“Show-off…” he mumbled.
Elliott lifted the rim of the empty vessel to his lips, then chuckled again as he noticed the absence of ale and gestured it in Gus’ direction.
“Good sir, my glass is empty and…. I’m a writer!”
“Maybe you should stop for tonight…” the farmer interjected. “You won’t be sober enough to start your next chapter in the morning!” Elliott rolled his eyes and leaned against the bar counter. He tried to give one of his best theatrically exasperated sighs, but when the exhale turned into a case of the hiccups, they knew he was down for the count. He smiled defiantly and tried his best to look dignified through the sudden spasms in his diaphragm and soused thousand yard stare.
“I-am fiiine… ne’re betta’…”
“…..Aaaand, there he goes…” Leah giggled from the end of the bar counter. “It’s like dropping a ton of bricks on a peach.”
“I oughtta’ help the ol’ scallywag home, I s’pose!” Willy groaned as he stood from the bar stool. He smiled as he hoisted one of Elliott’s arms over his shoulders and stood him up from the bar stool. “C’mon you menace… Let’s get ya home before you make a fool of yourself in front of all the lassies!” he chuckled. Sam took a moment to appreciate the situation at the bar counter. He shook his head and laughed, then took another shot at the 12 and missed horribly yet again.
“Easy does it there!” Emily cooed as she cleared away the empty tankard. “Try not to drop him too hard!” Elliott wobbled towards the door as Willy struggled to keep him upright, and just before they stepped out into the lukewarm summer evening, the farmer waved one last farewell and called out to the well marinated dandy-man as he staggered away.
“Nighty-night! Sleep tight, Rapunzel!” they chirped. Elliot responded to the joke by blowing an overly exaggerated kiss over his shoulder and daintily waiving his fingertips at the company in the saloon, then he nearly tripped over himself as he turned back to the path home. A couple of snorts, giggles and guffaws rose up over the music and chatter in the saloon and quickly melted back into the white noise once the moment passed.
Seb looked Sam in the eyes with a determined glare and smirked.
“Eight in the corner pocket….” Seb didn’t have a clear shot, but leaned over the table, reared back the stick and spiked it into the cue ball. It ricocheted from the bumper, side-swiped the eight, and put just enough force into the edge to cause it to spin sideways into the pocket he’d called. Sam laughed and scratched at the back of his head.
“Awwww, man…” he groaned. “You got me again!” Sam leaned against his cue stick and looked over the table before his eyes lit up in anticipation. “How about a best three out of five?” Abigail giggled at Sam’s request as she stretched and leaned back into the sofa.
“Give it up, blondie! He cooks your goose at this game EVERY single time…. You’re doomed.” She teased. “It’s getting late anyways…”
…
It had been almost a month since the odd shape had been spotted flying over town at this point. Seb and Abby had talked in depth about it, and though most of the other townsfolk had come to the conclusion that it had merely been some sort of exotic bird flying out toward the fern islands, Abby was positive she hadn’t been mistaken. In fact she was adamant that the form looked human. She hadn’t seen or heard any wings flapping and the “squawking” sounded more so like the laugh of an old woman than the cries of a bird. The figure seemed to levitate or hover effortlessly and without the use of any physical or mechanical assistance. It was slumped over as if it was curled up or sitting and just…. Floated away.
The long night spent coding and researching the relevant programing issues at the computer, had caused Sebastian to rise late. He was groggy, didn’t have much motivation to bother rolling out of bed, and it was almost noon at this point. He could hear the rain pattering against the roof of the house and the rumble of distant thunder. As lazy as he felt, a smoke sounded pretty good about now. The sound and sight of the ocean on rainy days also had a way of clearing his head and a little stroll would probably do him some good.
He didn’t pass anyone on the way out of the house. Robin was likely at her aerobics club, Maru, at work in the clinic, and who knew where Demetrius was… Out shoving dirt samples into test tubes, or measuring the volume and PH of the current rainfall? As long as he wasn’t dissecting frogs. Out of all of Sebastian’s childhood memories, that was the one that stuck in his head and haunted him. Back then, Maru had only just been born, and while Robin was busy keeping her entertained, fixing her bottle or changing diapers, Seb was wandering the house trying to find something to occupy his time. He’d wandered into his step-father’s study and there on the examination tray was a deceased frog pinned on it’s back, limbs splayed like Da Vinci’s “Vitruvian Man” with it’s belly sliced open. Sebastian had cried and pouted over that for several days and had given Demetrius the silent treatment for even days longer intermixed with spells of arm crossing, head turning and the occasional stuck out tongue and blown raspberry. He cringed at the thought even now.
The hinges creaked as he pushed the front door open and paused. The summer was starting to give way to autumn and the parched ground soaked up the rain and turned loose the pungent, almost overpowering scent of petrichor.
Sebastian flipped the hood of his pull-over around his head and tightened up the drawstrings. He took a moment to smell the aroma of wet grass and earth that drifted through the air and held the fragrance in his lungs as he closed the door behind him.
He began his slow, steady march toward the beach and lost count of his steps after he’d passed the old Community Center. He’d barely noticed the changing of terrain under his feet as he moved almost subconsciously toward the ocean. The raw, muddy dirt paths of the mountain, the crunch of rough stones and shuffle of old, dead pine needles that carpeted the ground… They’d transitioned into the grass and cobblestone of the town plaza at some point, but they all seemed to blend together into “just steps” after a while. His inner thoughts distracted him to the point where he barely paid attention to his surroundings until he felt his footfalls sinking and shifting underneath him, and he knew he’d hit sand. He heaved a deep sigh of the salt air and looked over the horizon as he paced toward the docks.
When the sky was this gray and muted, the color of the sea seemed to take on it’s own jewel-like quality and without the blue sky to draw attention away from it, the eyes of each breaking wave became a splendor to watch. They erupted into columns of aquamarine, sapphire and sodalite laced with the bright, almost pearlescent white of the sea foam before curling over, crashing into the tides and giving way to the next one.
Sebastian came to a stop at the furthest reaching section of the wood panels and straightened up his posture as he groped into his pockets for the pack of cigarettes he’d brought with him. He selected one from the box, tucked it between his teeth and plunged his fingers back into the pocket for his lighter. He curled his left hand in front of his face, to protect the fire from the wind, flicked open the lid and thumbed the igniter. The flint sparked into a flame as it spun and lit up the end of the cigarette to a smoldering red glow. He pulled in a breath and held it for a moment before letting it out and watching the smoke dance away in the wind. It still wasn’t quite as satisfying as that first breath of rain when he’d stepped out of the house. Another sigh escaped Seb’s lips as he stared back at the oncoming crests of seawater and his mind started to drift again.
He imagined the city lights blazing somewhere across the ocean like stars, and thought about starting over somewhere far away. Disappearing, and reappearing somewhere else like a shadow moving through fragments of darkness and light, somewhere where no one knew him. Just vanishing and leaving everything behind. His parents, his sister, his friends… the thought excited him for a moment, before giving way to an intense feeling of regret and sadness. Maybe even a little shame. Having everyone was frustrating, but would having none of them be better or worse? He’d never known anything else. The same friends he’d grown up with, the same smell of the changing seasons in the mountain air, the same four walls of his bedroom, the sound of his sister’s laugh, or the taste of his mother’s cooking… even the way his stepfather overreacted to the littlest things was something he'd grown used to. He took another long breath.
The waves lapped and pounded at the underside of the dock so loudly he couldn’t hear the patter of oncoming footfalls against the wood and he was caught unaware when a sudden presence made itself known.
“Hey.” The start was enough to make him tense up, and he almost tripped over his own feet. Seb whirled around and when he found himself face to face with the farmer, he relaxed again.
“You scared the absolute crap out of me…..” He said as he rolled his eyes. He flicked his thumb against the filter of the cigarette to knock away the ashes and looked over the docks. They were alone.
“Sorry….” There was an awkward moment of silence between the two of them before Sebastian tried to force conversation.
“What are you up to out here?” He asked. He wasn’t really interested in the answer, but felt obligated to return the acknowledgement of his presence. The farmer held up the rod that was firmly clasped in their right hand and gestured to the ocean.
“Fishing!” Seb raised an eyebrow and cocked his head at the response.
“In the rain?” he asked. His tone was almost dismissive. The farmer nodded.
“Willy said that there’s a number of fish that only come out when it’s raining, so I wanted to see what bites.” They began. “Some fish just like it better this way I guess.” There was another long pause. “…and you?”
“Hanging out…” Seb shrugged and adjusted the collar of his hoodie.
“In the rain?” The irony of the retort wasn’t lost on either of them though only the farmer seemed to find it amusing.
“Some people just like it better this way too…” Seb declared as he shifted his posture and crossed his arms over his chest. “I like to come out here where it’s quiet and have some alone time with my own thoughts.” There was a brief moment of guilt when Sebastian realized that he hadn’t actually ever bothered to ask the farmer’s name, but his introverted nature snubbed it out pretty quickly.
“Well, if you’re out here for some alone time, I won’t keep bothering you. I’ll go find a spot to fish and leave you to it.” At least they could take a hint. The farmer turned to leave and Sebastian suddenly regretted the entire conversation. Maybe he came off as cold and bristly? Either way, they hadn’t meant any harm. Just engaging in basic pleasantries. He found himself compelled to say something else just so the conversation wouldn’t end on such a sour note, then the thought of the flying figure and the appearance of the strange egg in the farmer’s coop a while back suddenly popped into his head.
“Wait….” Sebastian flicked away the spent cigarette and stamped it out with the toe of his shoe before he continued. The farmer turned back in his direction. “I was just curious… do you remember what happened a couple of weeks ago? The night that… thing… flew over Pelican Town?” The farmer’s eyes narrowed and they nodded slowly. “That was the night that strange egg just showed up in your chicken coop, right?” The farmer looked bewildered. Seb chuckled soundlessly when he realized that, for at least a moment, he was acting like the epitome of some small town country boy who was nosing into someone else’s business. The farmer was likely confused because they hadn’t spoken to Sebastian about it directly. How could he know about that? They didn’t have to ask before he preemptively put the question to rest. “I was in the saloon playing pool with Sam the night after it happened. I overheard you talking about it with Gus, Willy and uh- …Rapunzel.” He explained. A tiny snort escaped the farmer’s nose as they stifled a laugh and they nodded again.
“Right… I still don’t know where it came from.” They rested the handle of the fishing pole on the dock like a staff or walking stick and looked up at the sky as if they were contemplating something. “I don’t know if the egg had anything to do with the flying figure, or if it was just a coincidence… they did both appear on the same night.”
“Everyone in town says that the flying thing was probably just some weird bird heading toward the islands…” Seb droned. He shoved his hands into his pockets to sooth the chill in his fingers. “If that IS where the egg came from, then maybe it was just a bird…” The farmer briskly shook their head before they answered.
“No, I don’t think so.” They rested a hand on their hip, fidgeted with the line strung through the fishing rod and seemed to gaze off into the distance towards the island in question. “That wouldn’t make sense considering what hatched.” Sebastian’s head snapped upright to meet their gaze. Now this was getting interesting.
“It actually hatched?!” He piped as his eyes widened inquisitively. “What was it?”
“A chicken…. And those can’t fly long distances.” The farmer chortled as they watched Sebastian’s face droop back to some semblance of apathy. He looked mildly disappointed.
“Aww…. Well that’s kind of anticlimactic.” He groaned.
“Yeah, sorry it’s not more exciting than that…” There was a sudden gust of wind and both of them had to brace against the pelting of raindrops that came with it. “It is a pretty peculiar looking chicken, if that makes you feel any better.”
“Really?... How so?” He gazed back at them expectantly and waited for them to go into detail.
“The feathers are jet black and the comb and wattles have a bit of an odd shape to them. The eyes are also bright red, like an animal with albinism and they’re almost reflective in the dark too… like a cat’s eyes.” They paused and rested their hand over the lower half of their face as if they were taking a moment to recall more of the specifics to memory. “And there’s just something about the way it clucks.” They added. “It doesn’t really cluck like a normal hen, but it sounds more like… an echo of a cluck, I suppose.”
“What?....” Sebastian laughed as his expression shifted again. The description of the noise sounded completely ridiculous. Not a cluck, but an echo of a cluck? They may as well have likened it to a phantom voice or the cry of a specter. Something that eluded the range of sounds that most humans would ever have the chance or perception to experience. The farmer lifted their eyes back to Sebastian’s as if they’d suddenly remembered something else.
“She started laying eggs a couple of days ago. They look just like the one that appeared in the coop that night…” They let the fishing pole drop from their hand to the wood planking of the dock and slipped their arm out of the left strap of their backpack. “I actually have one with me if you want to see it….” They slid the other strap off of their shoulder and swung the bag around their right side, letting it come to a rest in front of them as they knelt down. Seb took a few steps closer and stooped to get a better look as they dug through the contents.
They gingerly grasped what looked like a tiny bundle wrapped in a kerchief and began to slowly peel away the corners of the fabric, exposing what was probably the most bizarre looking egg he’d ever seen in his life. It was black and somewhat glossy, unlike the calcified matte shells of most chicken eggs, and the surface seemed to be covered in tiny indents or fissures that exposed flecks of a bright, almost luminescent red underneath. The farmer held the egg out to Sebastian as they stood up straight and nodded, silently offering to let him hold it for a closer look. He gently cupped the egg in his hands, tucked his arms in close to his body and cradled it in his palms like a cautious child trying to hold a hamster. It was heavier than he’d expected it to be, and surprisingly warm.
The color reminded him of magma or hot coals. Something like the intense heat glowing through crackling obsidian after a volcanic eruption or a dying fire. He leaned his head even closer to the egg as he examined the texture of the shell, and his nose wrinkled a bit when he caught the scent. It was sulphurous, and almost earthy smelling, but not overpoweringly so.
“It’s not rotten, is it?” he asked as he gently turned the egg over in his hands.
“See, that’s the strange thing about it. It can’t be…. That egg was just laid this morning.” They explained. “All of the eggs that hen lays have that… little whiff of something burning to them.” The rain was starting to slow up a bit. The farmer thought for a moment and giggled at the notion of what they said next. “I’m not inclined to say that they’re edible either… at least, not to people, and I wouldn’t be keen on being the first one to test that.” Sebastian winced at the thought…and smell, and stifled a laugh.
“Me neither…” He smiled softly when the red speckled pattern caught his attention again. “It does look really cool though!”
He really did have a nice smile. It was kind of a shame that he didn’t let people see it more often. His eyes brightened, and his face looked softer and more approachable, yet also, inquisitive and curious. It was a look of fascination and wonder. Like a kid who’d just discovered dinosaurs and outer space for the first time, or someone who’d just felt their first taste of freedom and didn’t quite know what to do with it. An imaginative or inspired sort of expression.
“Since you like it so much, why don’t you hang onto it?” the farmer beamed.
“Can I?” Sebastian’s eyes lit up again and he gazed back at the farmer with a delighted look on his face.
“Sure! Hens lay eggs every day or so. There’ll be more before long!” they chimed. Sebastian chuckled as he curled his fingers about the egg and sheltered it from the rain.
“Thank you!” He gazed at it for a few moments more as the farmer hefted the rucksack back onto their shoulders and pulled the fishing rod from it’s resting place on the dock. “Hey, this might sound kind of stupid….” He began as he gazed back and forth between the farmer and his new prize… “But, do you think it’ll hatch if I put it under my pillow?” he laughed awkwardly at his own question when he realized how foolish it must have sounded, but was pleasantly surprised when the farmer’s response was more optimistic than he had expected.
“Umm, I don’t know… Maybe! It’s worth a try anyway, and stranger things have happened.”
“Only one way to find out I guess!” Sebastian said smiling in anticipation.
“Good luck! You’ll have to let me know what happens!” They scanned out over the tides as if looking for something before turning back to Sebastian. “I should hurry and find a spot to fish before the rain stops again, but it was really nice talking to you!”
“Yeah, you too!” Seb agreed. “I’ll see you later!” He distracted himself for a moment, making sure the egg was tucked away safe and warm in his hoodie pocket, when he suddenly realized something. “Hey, wait!...” he quickly turned back to where the farmer had been standing just a minute before, but by the time he’d remembered what he’d needed to ask, they’d already trotted too far out of earshot to be able to hear him. “Aw, man… I forgot to catch their name again.” He lamented. “I’ll have to remember to ask them next time… Next time for sure.”

Hi all!
One thing I've been wondering about lately has to do with, mechanically, how I have been going #2 for the past few years. It's pretty messed up. More below.
For a while now, it's felt like the nerves that innervate certain muscle(s), which I'd say are the anus and a bit just above the anus / rectum, are more or less severed. Like that region is totally paralyzed or almost.
When I try to bear down on my bowels, my core engages heavily but much less so, if it all, the muscles lower near the GI tract. It's odd and way different than the normal feeling of bearing down on my bowels most of my life. It's almost not even like those muscles feel weak per se, but like I can't even engage them at all like I used to be able to.
But when it comes to going #2, in the morning things are actually more or less OK, and am actually not constipated, stool is usually soft. However typically I need to stand at my standing desk for a while in the AM, consciously loosen / relax muscles down there as much as I can, and wait for it to come, otherwise I won't go all day typically, unless I take this very conscious approach.
Then oddly, later in the day I usually can't go at all or if I do, my muscles feel almost spastic trying to get things out. Still soft though. And I know my body would prefer to go due to bloating / pressure etc.
And another way to describe it, probably an even better way, is I simply can't push out / release gas like I used to be able to do easily. Hard to squeeze out a fart basically, or can't even do it at all.
So I've seen some stuff about PFD around here and other subs, which I wonder about. I also wonder almost more about nerve entrapment or something due to the extent that things feel, again, like the nerves are almost severed there. I have to say I'm pretty easily able to feel like I'm relaxing that region if I want to (think this is called a reverse kegel), which from my understanding isn't the easiest thing to do if its PFD?
Also - I did get a methane diagnosis at a very well regarded academic medical center not too long ago w/ high methane on baseline sample. Atrantil if I had to make a bet, seems to help. Motility activator, artichoke extract, I haven't stuck with because in some ways they seemed like they made me worse - not digestive wise - but brain fog, mood, etc. Won't go into detail on that right now. And similar with allimed. That's all I've tried in terms of treatments often talked about around here. Might try those again and go slower though.
Other digestive symptoms would be prominent upper belly bloating - almost feels like in my stomach or close to it, gets bloated fast. And maybe even fast transit is an issue as well. When I eat black rice or other food easy to ID, it comes out in 12 hrs or less, I've noticed. Seemingly not super common methane SIBO picture from what I've seen here.
But like I mentioned above, e.g. in terms of being able to go in the AM pretty regularly, digestion isn't even my number one issue (although... I badly would like to be able to go #2 normally again, fart normally again, and comfortably eat garlic and beans again). The main bullshit I have, which sucks and can be pronounced, but won't go into it atm, is brain fog and neuro stuff, that package of shit. And I can't recall what showed up first in terms of all my symptoms, I feel like digestive stuff may have kicked it off but don't remember exactly.
So, curious to hear from others if you know anything about this sort of thing, mechanical problems, and the relationship to SIBO, and any suggestions for it. Is it a bidirectional relationship, or is one downstream of the other, or what? Just would like to hear any thoughts you have about what I've described. Also, citations and or anecdotes would be appreciated with your response if you have them!
Thanks all, appreciate you reading and good luck to everyone with this BS.

I (20 F) recently went to the hospital after a black stool scare (damn you Pepto lol). My bloodwork came back clean, but they did find microscopic blood in my stool after a rectal exam. I'm currently taking Pepcid daily as advised by my doctor.
For context, I've been really stressed out and anxious lately. I used to drink black coffee daily at my old job, sometimes on an empty stomach. I'd often have even more coffee throughout the day too. I have frequent headaches and migraines, so I was taking quite a bit of pain killers as well. My diet has recently changed, I've been eating more as I'm trying to gain some weight. This didn't come up out of nowhere, as obviously I haven't been too kind to my body as of late.
I'm experiencing excessive sweating, abdominal tightness, very mild nausea here and there (I can still eat and keep food down, just in smaller portions and obviously no fatty or spicy food), slight discomfort on both my left and right side under my ribs, bloating, noisy stomach, and irregular bowel movements (no black at all before or since the Pepto. Sometimes normal, healthy poops, sometimes they're a bit loose with yellowish spots). All of these are on and off and seem to worsen with stress. Some days are completely normal, some days are really scary.
I don't think it's cancer or anything like that, but I am worried about gastritis. I know it can cause people to loose crazy amounts of weight fast, and as I said I'm trying to put on weight. I really don't want my progress to suddenly be reset by a disease. I have no visible blood in my poop or rectal pain, or any pain at all really. Mostly just pressure and tightness. Should I be worried? I'll be seeing a GI specialist soon. I'm cutting out fried foods and caffeine in the meantime to be safe. Anyone else dealing with or dealt with something similar??

The Dentist of Filly
The sounds of a drill stopped.
“You know what,” the man in the filthy overcoat said, “I think this is the wrong tool for the job” The man spun around on his wheeled-stool and scooted closer to his workstation.
Despite being labelled as a dentist’s office, this room bore closer resemblance to a mechanic’s workshop. The concrete floor had patches of oil stains and several globs of dried blood and phlegm. In the middle of the room, a set of reclaimed car seats acted as dentist chairs. The walls, welded together from chain link fencing and iron sheets, alongside other bits of salvage, blocked the sunlight from spilling into the room. Instead, most of the room’s illumination came from a glass skylight and the electrical fairy-lights that clung to the rafters. Those electrical cables descended into a set of extension cables, which ran carelessly along the sides of the room and into the hidden room at the far end. At least, only a few traces of blood leaked across the floor from the other room.
“What do you think?” The dentist lifted up a large pair of blacksmith tongs. The long metal rods had been forged from cast iron over two centuries ago. He hoisted them into the air and clammed excitedly.
The patient, a man wearing a black Brotherhood of Steel uniform, whimpered at the size of the instrument. “Do we have to?”
“Just open your mouth and close your eyes.”
The patient did as he was told, but not fast enough. The dentist grabbed the man’s chin and yanked it down in a sudden movement. He maneuvered his large instrument with a surprising amount of grace. It took hold of a molar.
The patient convulsed in the operating chair, pivoting his head back and forth. He pressed his head into the car seat headrest. The patient felt his tooth resisting the vicious tugs of the dentist’s tool.
“Ah! A good set of teeth. I’ll pay premium. One. Two.”
Before the dentist said ‘three’, he seized hard upon the tooth and hauled it out whole and entire.
“Wowie! What a beauty!” He admired the tooth within the claws of the blacksmith’s tongs. The sunbeam that cut through the room from the skylight embraced the molar. The dentist did not take his eyes away from his reward.
“Premium!” the dentist said, laughing to himself. He spun in his wheeled-stool and scooted toward the chest of drawers against another wall. He picked up a piece of dirty cloth and wiped the tooth carefully. Then, he unlocked a heavy metal box that sat upon the top of the chest of drawers. He delicately opened it and placed the molar upon a tiny padded pillow. Furtively, he looked back at his patient, before closing and locking the box again.
The dentist rifled through one of the drawers and pulled out a leather bag of caps. He knocked out a handful and began to count them out loud. He had to stop after counting to six, seemingly forgetting what came next, and needed to restart his count.
“Here you are, sir!” The dentist let a dozen caps fall into the man’s hands.
“T-ank you,” the man said, rising from the chair. He held his hand against the left side of his face as the swelling had already begun. This patient, eager to be on his way, shifted through the main doorway, allowing someone else to enter the room.
The dentist, having already wheeled away on his stool to a cabinet at the other side of the room, did not detect the woman who had entered the room. He tinkered through several sets of dentures. They were cobbled together from the teeth of beast and human alike. He opened a pair of them, which hid a little mechanical gem. Then, he felt a chill shiver through his spine. He twisted in place, looking at the figure standing behind him.
He leapt to his feet, then fell back to his stool.
“Doctor Celsus, I presume.” The woman tapped her feet impatiently. Her boots, sabatons made from heavy metal, clinked against the concrete floor. Her entire body had been encased with crude plates of study metal. A laser pistol hung limply at her side.
“He is I, but, please, please, call me Kelvin.” The dentist smiled wide. His teeth had succumbed to rot a long time ago.
“I have a few questions,” the woman said. She had positioned herself in the room as though she owned it. After she spoke, she moved and casually perused his workstation. She spent more time examining the trinkets atop the chest of drawers. She touched the locked metal box, causing the dentist to flinch. The woman looked at him and raised an eyebrow. She continued her perusal, stopping at the cabinet with dentures in it. The mouthless teeth mocked her with their disembodied smiles.
“Questions? Well, I am your humble servant.”
The dentist kept his eyes on her, swiveling his stool as she walked through his workshop. His heart began to beat faster. He became fearful that this woman sought to steal his best teeth. He would rather die than give away his collection. Only yesterday, he had formed together a beautiful pair of dentures from a blended set of teeth from horse and dog.
“Did you purchase an Optical Enhancer?” the woman turned her attention to the man in the dirty overcoat. “Two weeks ago?” From her perspective, he was another charlatan plying an unregulated trade.
The dentist squirmed. His eyes quickly flashed to the hidden room at the opposite end of his workshop. His mind began to race with options: would he lie? tell the truth? dodge the question?
“If you must know, I purchased it fairly. It’s not yours, I presume.” The dentist examined the woman’s face. While she had been covered with a variety of facial scars, both large and small, she still had both of her eyes in place. No signs of optical surgery seemed evident.
“If you’d like to install it,” the dentist said hesitantly, “I’d be happy to. Anything with eyes, ears, mouth, and nose are my speciality. Nose too big? I’ll shape it down to size!”
The woman exhaled through her bulbous nose. Scar tissue had caused it to grow and change shape since her last mission. It had been a vain concern of hers, but she would not trust a common wasteland doctor to perform the surgery.
“Doctor Celsus…” “Kelvin.” “Kelvin.” She took a heavy step toward him. For the first time, he realized that she had not been totally armoured, but, rather, she had been mostly rebuilt, reconstructed, with electronic prosthetics. In fact, her right arm, up to her shoulder, had been completely fabricated from salvaged technology. “I am in no mood to play games. Give me a name and date for the person who sold you the optical implant.” She moved closer, the janky movements of her prosthetic legs now evident to the doctor. They had been fabricated from a combination of mechanical parts and installed mid-thigh.
“Oh, my memory is not quite what it used to be. Two weeks, you said?”
Before the dentist could finish his delaying tactics, the woman shot her arm toward him. Her metallic fingers gripped his neck and squeezed his windpipe. Ever so slowly, he rose from the ground, his toes keeping contact with the ground.
“Kelvin,” she said with a calculated coldness, “I am in no mood for games.”
The dentist choked for air. He indicated he could not breath.
“D-down, down,” he sputtered with gasps.
The woman loosened her grip. Kelvin fell back to his stool and clutched his neck. He sucked in air as fast as he could. The woman rolled her shoulders and readied herself for another exertion of force. In self-defence, the doctor raised his palms into the air.
“I’ll speak! I’ll speak!”
The doctor coughed up phlegm. It splattered upon the dirty floor of his operating room. He smudged it away with the bottom of his shoe. Taking a small breath, he staggered to his feet, using the cabinet as support. “A man, a man. He came last week. He wanted to sell me the piece. Good price: 2,000 caps. I could do the surgery for double the price. I bought it. I didn’t think twice. I didn’t catch his name.” At the end of the last sentence, the woman lunged forward, but the dentist cowered.
“Please!” he muttered with a whimper. “It’s all I know!”
The woman unholstered a laser pistol from her right mechanical thigh. She pressed the sidearm into the dentist’s temple.
“Is that all?” she said coldly.
“Yes, yes. I mean, he said that he would be heading to Moldaver with some information.”
The woman pressed her laser pistol harder against his head.
“That’s all I know!” he sputtered. Tears began to stream from his eyes. “I don’t know what he wanted with Moldaver. I swear!”
“Give me the eye.”
“What!?”
“You heard me,” the woman took a step backward, but kept the laser pistol pointed.
Slowly, the man moved to his cabinet and pulled out a set of dentures. He clacked their jaws open and pulled out the electronic eye from its hiding spot.
The mechanical woman snatched it from his hand. She holstered her pistol.
“A-and the payment?” the dentist said with a shaky voice.
The woman laughed as she turned toward the exit. Her hand touched the sides of the doorframe. For a brief moment, she considered liquidizing the dentist. She wanted to leave no loose ends. Her eyes, ignited by a piercing vengeance, beheld the doctor. She took pity on this whimpering excuse for a man. She left before she could change her mind.

The Dentist of Filly
The sounds of a drill stopped.
“You know what,” the man in the filthy overcoat said, “I think this is the wrong tool for the job” The man spun around on his wheeled-stool and scooted closer to his workstation.
Despite being labelled as a dentist’s office, this room bore closer resemblance to a mechanic’s workshop. The concrete floor had patches of oil stains and several globs of dried blood and phlegm. In the middle of the room, a set of reclaimed car seats acted as dentist chairs. The walls, welded together from chain link fencing and iron sheets, alongside other bits of salvage, blocked the sunlight from spilling into the room. Instead, most of the room’s illumination came from a glass skylight and the electrical fairy-lights that clung to the rafters. Those electrical cables descended into a set of extension cables, which ran carelessly along the sides of the room and into the hidden room at the far end. At least, only a few traces of blood leaked across the floor from the other room.
“What do you think?” The dentist lifted up a large pair of blacksmith tongs. The long metal rods had been forged from cast iron over two centuries ago. He hoisted them into the air and clammed excitedly.
The patient, a man wearing a black Brotherhood of Steel uniform, whimpered at the size of the instrument. “Do we have to?”
“Just open your mouth and close your eyes.”
The patient did as he was told, but not fast enough. The dentist grabbed the man’s chin and yanked it down in a sudden movement. He maneuvered his large instrument with a surprising amount of grace. It took hold of a molar.
The patient convulsed in the operating chair, pivoting his head back and forth. He pressed his head into the car seat headrest. The patient felt his tooth resisting the vicious tugs of the dentist’s tool.
“Ah! A good set of teeth. I’ll pay premium. One. Two.”
Before the dentist said ‘three’, he seized hard upon the tooth and hauled it out whole and entire.
“Wowie! What a beauty!” He admired the tooth within the claws of the blacksmith’s tongs. The sunbeam that cut through the room from the skylight embraced the molar. The dentist did not take his eyes away from his reward.
“Premium!” the dentist said, laughing to himself. He spun in his wheeled-stool and scooted toward the chest of drawers against another wall. He picked up a piece of dirty cloth and wiped the tooth carefully. Then, he unlocked a heavy metal box that sat upon the top of the chest of drawers. He delicately opened it and placed the molar upon a tiny padded pillow. Furtively, he looked back at his patient, before closing and locking the box again.
The dentist rifled through one of the drawers and pulled out a leather bag of caps. He knocked out a handful and began to count them out loud. He had to stop after counting to six, seemingly forgetting what came next, and needed to restart his count.
“Here you are, sir!” The dentist let a dozen caps fall into the man’s hands.
“T-ank you,” the man said, rising from the chair. He held his hand against the left side of his face as the swelling had already begun. This patient, eager to be on his way, shifted through the main doorway, allowing someone else to enter the room.
The dentist, having already wheeled away on his stool to a cabinet at the other side of the room, did not detect the woman who had entered the room. He tinkered through several sets of dentures. They were cobbled together from the teeth of beast and human alike. He opened a pair of them, which hid a little mechanical gem. Then, he felt a chill shiver through his spine. He twisted in place, looking at the figure standing behind him.
He leapt to his feet, then fell back to his stool.
“Doctor Celsus, I presume.” The woman tapped her feet impatiently. Her boots, sabatons made from heavy metal, clinked against the concrete floor. Her entire body had been encased with crude plates of study metal. A laser pistol hung limply at her side.
“He is I, but, please, please, call me Kelvin.” The dentist smiled wide. His teeth had succumbed to rot a long time ago.
“I have a few questions,” the woman said. She had positioned herself in the room as though she owned it. After she spoke, she moved and casually perused his workstation. She spent more time examining the trinkets atop the chest of drawers. She touched the locked metal box, causing the dentist to flinch. The woman looked at him and raised an eyebrow. She continued her perusal, stopping at the cabinet with dentures in it. The mouthless teeth mocked her with their disembodied smiles.
“Questions? Well, I am your humble servant.”
The dentist kept his eyes on her, swiveling his stool as she walked through his workshop. His heart began to beat faster. He became fearful that this woman sought to steal his best teeth. He would rather die than give away his collection. Only yesterday, he had formed together a beautiful pair of dentures from a blended set of teeth from horse and dog.
“Did you purchase an Optical Enhancer?” the woman turned her attention to the man in the dirty overcoat. “Two weeks ago?” From her perspective, he was another charlatan plying an unregulated trade.
The dentist squirmed. His eyes quickly flashed to the hidden room at the opposite end of his workshop. His mind began to race with options: would he lie? tell the truth? dodge the question?
“If you must know, I purchased it fairly. It’s not yours, I presume.” The dentist examined the woman’s face. While she had been covered with a variety of facial scars, both large and small, she still had both of her eyes in place. No signs of optical surgery seemed evident.
“If you’d like to install it,” the dentist said hesitantly, “I’d be happy to. Anything with eyes, ears, mouth, and nose are my speciality. Nose too big? I’ll shape it down to size!”
The woman exhaled through her bulbous nose. Scar tissue had caused it to grow and change shape since her last mission. It had been a vain concern of hers, but she would not trust a common wasteland doctor to perform the surgery.
“Doctor Celsus…” “Kelvin.” “Kelvin.” She took a heavy step toward him. For the first time, he realized that she had not been totally armoured, but, rather, she had been mostly rebuilt, reconstructed, with electronic prosthetics. In fact, her right arm, up to her shoulder, had been completely fabricated from salvaged technology. “I am in no mood to play games. Give me a name and date for the person who sold you the optical implant.” She moved closer, the janky movements of her prosthetic legs now evident to the doctor. They had been fabricated from a combination of mechanical parts and installed mid-thigh.
“Oh, my memory is not quite what it used to be. Two weeks, you said?”
Before the dentist could finish his delaying tactics, the woman shot her arm toward him. Her metallic fingers gripped his neck and squeezed his windpipe. Ever so slowly, he rose from the ground, his toes keeping contact with the ground.
“Kelvin,” she said with a calculated coldness, “I am in no mood for games.”
The dentist choked for air. He indicated he could not breath.
“D-down, down,” he sputtered with gasps.
The woman loosened her grip. Kelvin fell back to his stool and clutched his neck. He sucked in air as fast as he could. The woman rolled her shoulders and readied herself for another exertion of force. In self-defence, the doctor raised his palms into the air.
“I’ll speak! I’ll speak!”
The doctor coughed up phlegm. It splattered upon the dirty floor of his operating room. He smudged it away with the bottom of his shoe. Taking a small breath, he staggered to his feet, using the cabinet as support. “A man, a man. He came last week. He wanted to sell me the piece. Good price: 2,000 caps. I could do the surgery for double the price. I bought it. I didn’t think twice. I didn’t catch his name.” At the end of the last sentence, the woman lunged forward, but the dentist cowered.
“Please!” he muttered with a whimper. “It’s all I know!”
The woman unholstered a laser pistol from her right mechanical thigh. She pressed the sidearm into the dentist’s temple.
“Is that all?” she said coldly.
“Yes, yes. I mean, he said that he would be heading to Moldaver with some information.”
The woman pressed her laser pistol harder against his head.
“That’s all I know!” he sputtered. Tears began to stream from his eyes. “I don’t know what he wanted with Moldaver. I swear!”
“Give me the eye.”
“What!?”
“You heard me,” the woman took a step backward, but kept the laser pistol pointed.
Slowly, the man moved to his cabinet and pulled out a set of dentures. He clacked their jaws open and pulled out the electronic eye from its hiding spot.
The mechanical woman snatched it from his hand. She holstered her pistol.
“A-and the payment?” the dentist said with a shaky voice.
The woman laughed as she turned toward the exit. Her hand touched the sides of the doorframe. For a brief moment, she considered liquidizing the dentist. She wanted to leave no loose ends. Her eyes, ignited by a piercing vengeance, beheld the doctor. She took pity on this whimpering excuse for a man. She left before she could change her mind.

So, I (20 F) tested positive for occult blood in my stool. My bloodwork came back clean, I'm scheduled to return to the doctor soon. I was told to take Pepcid daily for the time being.
I'm experiencing irregular bowel movements, sweating, very mild nausea (I can keep food down and even eat in small portions, just a mild sickly feeling), and abdominal tightness. Do these symptoms align with gastritis? I'm really scared..
I don't think I have colon cancer, my stools are not black or tarry. Sometimes they're 100% normal, sometimes it's looser with some yellowish spots. At my last job, I drank black coffee daily, sometimes twice or thrice a day. Usually my first was on an empty stomach. I think this combined with stress and changed diet habits (I've been eating more than usual, I'm trying to put on some weight)
My current plan is to cut out fried/greasy/fatty foods and caffeine and continue to take my medicine. Is anyone else dealing with this? I thought it was IBS or anxiety induced IBS at first, but now I'm really worried.

There were whispers that morning that rotations of sentries had seen a nymph from their positions on the Eastern wall. They were dismissed by many, and gossiped on about by a few.
That would be his distraction for the day, Diak thought. Isn't that way anyone does anything after all, distraction.
Up on the wall he found the soldiers' young company and their laughable claim a good way to pass his hangover, his worries about why it stung when he pissed now, his worries about all the money he had lost and the mite of the entire fate of mankind being in the balance of his mission.
I'll remedy it, when I'm feeling a bit less like death, he told himself. Today was a day were he would try to avoid worry, as best he could. It was almost easier to do so when the weight of his stress was so preposterous it was touching on comical. Today was a day to bask in the sun
He smoked his way through the morning, bringing a stool up to the palisade making the most of the view of the lazy river, dragonflies stuck to the drooping stems above lily pads, a strayed sheep wandered on by on the other side.
'Surely if were a nymph fella, it'd be coming from the water, a sopping wet mistress' Diak posited tasting at the hemp.
'They have tree nymphs up north say the tribes' said the young soldier sternly, appearing to grow weary of Diak's loud demeanour.
'No such things as nymphs only in myths and loon's minds they are and not in true religion' grunted a spearman passing by rather zealously. The young boy looked embarressed. Diak kept smoking, high enough to hear the intricacies of the birdsongs.
'There look' hissed the young one keeping his voice down.
Diak frowned. Something was indeed moving, a whole trunk of an elm seemed to waver like a mirage.
'What was that! Druid magic? Shall I raise the alarm?' The sentry whispered afeared to be seen as crazy.
Diak struggled to bring levity now, studying the tree acutely, though not forgetting to light his pipe. Other sentries further down the wall were pointing now to the relief of the young man. There it went again. A split second the tree wobbled as if it were as solid as water.
'It;s something fella?' Diak giggled. Raiders possessed no such magic. Well they better not.
Even the most solemn of soldier came to wander over at the risk of the commander's castigation now. The tree wobbled a final time. Then something stood in the way of the bark.
A figure formed leaning at the base of the trunk. Shooting into view, as if it had been suddenly dropped there.
Fascinating, Diak thought. Then he remembered this was a place of war.
Childhood wonder quickly sunk, the forest had not given way to gliding feminine spirits that possessed the mind with song.
It was a man walking from the tree line in a grey cloak, hood up.
The grim reality of adulthood grabbed the men, and alarm bells rung. Marching feet pounded out to the perimieter of the fort, watching the river, the sea and inland. No boats came.
Diak kept his eyes on the lush forest. Nothing, no war drums banging, no fires, no chants to those gods of war the northerners had, no hordes of hide wearing axe men charging the fort. The man was alone. And what was one man?
Commander Essos was up with them in a flash, leaning over the sharpened wall. Javelins were gripped tight, bows taken up. The gates remained open for now.
The man walked with the apathy and comfort of one in his own living quarters with a slow gait through the tall summer grass and cow parsley, with no regard for the hundreds of eyes latched unto him. A large satchel was hung off his back and so to a black blade. Or was it a club Diak wondered. He was no weapons expert but he had never seen a weapon so thick a giant two headed cleaver looked to be made of a dull black stone.
'Identify yourself, this is a fort of the Archipeligo now. You will state your business or be fired upon!' Came shouts from the sentries
The figure appeared less and less ethereal the closer he got, with a hunched posture and torn peasants clothes under the muddy grey cloak, his face still covered. He meandered closer and slower, indifferent to the shouts and threats being hurled down at him. The man looked long and lanky like a priest Diak thought but with each step he could see his proportions clearer, he was built like a bull. It dawned on Diak now just how gigantic that odd weapon would have to be too.
'Almost in range commander!' came a shout below
As if he had some how heard this, the grey cloak stopped, took off his satchel, and carrying it, walked towards the river maintaining his distance. He Placed it on a low tree stump.
Still no men at the treeline.
The greycloak groped into the satchel for a moment, clawing for something. Diak squinted, hands were picking up parchment folding it up delicately and putting it to the side.
Then he pulled out a stained white cloth wrapped around some lump. Then gently undressed it.
A head with long red hair and unkempt beard was revealed, wet with some sort of preserving oil. The greycloak held it up by the hair and in the other hand held something that glinted in the sun. The silent head swung from the hand of the silent man, his eyes affixed to the ground.
'Who the hell is that' giggled Diak swigging at a stolen wineskin 'whatever the opposite of a nymph is eh?'
'We put a bounty out.' mumbled Essos, looking on stern. 'And the head may be Svel Forkbeard, equally it may not be'
Diak frowned he had heard that name every spring for the past few years, the pirate king, the Reaver,, the man who had come to own raiding season, who had made his way into the bedside stories of misbehaved children, the scourge of the Archipeligo. Dangling in a nameless mans hands.
'Approach!' Essos shouted across the wildflower expanse between them.
The greycloak took of his greycloak and packed it away. A clean shaven face a clean shaven head. He glanced at the gate for but a moment.
He did not take one step closer. He did not raise his eyes. He clicked his fingers and pointed at the ground at his feet.
Diak tried not to laugh at the brazen audacity.
Essos swore rubbing his face, 'Barbarian swine. Ready up men, bring a translator'
'If I may follow friend, my patron would be most intrigued to hear about men of such a... hands on industry?' Diak said

Hi everyone, i’m a 23 yr old female. Throwaway account for obvious reasons.
Since two weeks, everytime I poop there’s bloody mucus in my stool. I’ll upload a pic here (black pic first in case you don’t wanna see it). I don’t have any pain when I poop, but my digestive habits kings changed: I used to defecate in the morning or after lunch (maximum 3-4 times a week), now I defecate at around 10-11 pm. I’m also really really bloated, especially after eating (mom says I look pregnant due to bloating, but I’m 100% sure I’m not). I had a blood test done these week due to another medical issues (microcistic ovaries) and I have low erythrocytes (value 4,13; normal should be 4,31-5,10) and low hemoglobin (value 121; normal should be 123-153). I also have high prothrombin time (INR 1,43) and I got tested for hepatic issues but the tests came back normal (the only abnormal value was indirect bilirubin, the value was 2.5 and it should be 3,4-13,7). I also have low vitamin D and low vitamin B12, although I’m omnivore and I consume animal products daily.
What could be the cause? Please help me, my gp has a long waiting lists and here in Italy getting a colonoscopy or an appointment with a gastroenterologist can take months.

48, male, Crohns, on Remicade. So, I have these random maroon/black stools every 2-3 months. I've been checked for everything: CT scan, PET, colonoscopies, gastroscopies, videocapsule, angiogram... and the the only suspected bleeding site is a spot in the sigmoid colon (and not related to Crohns).
Question is simple: is it possible to have maroon, dark, even black stools from sigmoid colon bleeding? I thought they should be reddish, coming from than position.