Fever night sweats chills headache productive cough stuffy nose

37M. I woke up with a sore throat last Tuesday with what I thought was the start of a cold. I didn't think much about it and noticed I also had a fever that night (low-grade). I took some tylenol and went to bed and "cold" symptoms kept increasing (cough, congestion) throughout the week. Every night starting at 5PM my fever would start to climb slowly going from 99 and rising to 101-102 degrees F by 10PM at night. COVID negative. I'm currently on Amoxicillin for sinus infection and cold symptoms have started to decrease but fever still persists at night. Is this just a weird infection or is this something I might need to investigate more seriously? (blood-work, etc). No other weird or alarming symptoms.

right now i’m suffering from a flu or cold of some sort. 100.9F fever, clogged nose that i have to twist and turn every minute trying to sleep to be able to breathe, and just feeling like garbage overall. everyone in our house including my parents are sick with the same thing as well because my dad brought home some virus. i know tu* is uncommon with illnesses like this, but of course my emetophobia is not letting me live in peace. it’s telling me i’ll be a part of probably 1% that tu* from a cold or flu. also the last time i tu* was when i was in 3rd grade and i had a bad cough and ended up tu* phlegm. i don’t have a cough rn but i’m scared it’s gonna happen. i skipped dinner last night because my stomach felt weird and i felt n* after consuming pizza in the afternoon and i’m so scared to consume anything now. i really feel like absolute trash with the symptoms and my anxiety on top of that. any words of comfort or support will help :(

Confirmed celiac here. I went out to eat last night, I was already nervous about it but then sure enough. Glutened. I ordered chicken and rice. By the time we left the restaurant I was bloated. 6 in the morning I woke up from a migraine. By 8 am I was sitting on the toilet hugging a trash can with the lights off and my head pounding from vomiting. So it's 14 hours now since onset of headache and light and sound sensitivity has reduced significantly. But I hate that I have to call out of work. I hate feeling that weak and truly sick and helpless..
Does anyone else become so absolutely horribly ill?
My father has celiac as does his mother He just gets gassy and she just gets bloated and constipated but takes pills so she has movement. They virtually have no aggressive symptoms and continue to eat gluten products against doctors advice....
I'm feeling really sick. And really frustrated that I couldn't just cry and vent to my dad about this one.
So here I am typing and laying outside my bathroom. Thanks for reading.

My twins are sick. Often. Usually only for a day or two and one after the other.
This time they are both sick simultaneously. For 5 days, going on 6. Fever and fatigue, runny nose, cough. They will be bouncing off the walls laughing and playing, and the next hour down with a fever.
I havent slept a full night in over 5 days, checking their temperatures over night every 2-3 hours. I just want it to end so they can finish their last week of school and I can actually freaking relax
I already took them to the doctor yesterday he said it's likely the flu but nothing we could do other than give meds and fluids.... 😩

At the world’s top college of magic and technology, every day brings a new discovery -and a new disaster. The advanced experiments of the college students tend to be both ambitious and apocalyptic, with the end of the world only prevented by a mysterious time loop, and a small handful of students who retain their memories.
Surviving the loops was hard enough, but now, in his senior year, Vell Harlan must take charge of them, and deal with the fact that the whole world now knows his secrets. Everyone knows about Vell’s death and resurrection, along with the divine game he is a part of. Now Vell must contend with overly curious scientists and evil billionaires hungry for divine power while the daily doomsday cycle bombards him with terrorists, talking elephants, and the Grim Reaper himself -but if he can endure it all, the Last Goddess’s game promises the ultimate prize: power over life itself.
[Previous Chapter][Patreon][Cover Art]
“Should I be worried?”
Why would you be worried?” Kim said. “Dean Lichman loves us.”
Dean Lichman had asked the two of them to stop by his office, though his brief message had not said what for. That left Vell to concoct nightmare scenarios in his head.
“He doesn’t love all of us.”
“Alex doesn’t count as ‘us’,” Kim said. She was a looper in purely a technical sense, mostly due to her own refusal to be a team player. “Besides, she’s been behaving lately. She’s only been an asshole, not an active liability.”
“That we know of.”
“If we don’t know about it, Dean probably doesn’t either,” Kim said. “It’s fine, Vell, he probably just wants to ask us for advice or deal with some problem he has.”
“That’s not much better,” Vell said. “How weird would things have to be that the Dean is asking us for help personally?”
“Only one way to find out,” Kim said. She gestured to the door to the Dean’s office.
Kim entered first, and found it in much the same state as it always was. The desk piled high with paperwork, a small bowl of assorted candies shoved into the corner of the desk, and Dean Lichman behind it, frantically tapping away on a laptop. Vell had not been in this office for several years, and it was vastly different than the last time he’d been here.
“Ah, there you are, come in, have a seat,” Dean Lichman said. “Unless you’d rather we have our conversation elsewhere, Vell.”
“Why would I want that?”
“Well, it’s my understanding you haven’t been in this office since my, uh, predecessor,” Dean Lichman said.
“Oh, right, the kidnapping,” Vell said. “No, I’m good, I don’t really get traumatized by things anymore.”
Vell had been killed too many different ways in too many different places to have a functional trauma response. A few days ago he’d gotten his legs chewed off by a vending machine, and still stopped by it to pick up a soda on his way to the office.
“That’s a very concerning response, Mr. Harlan.”
“Yeah. Anyway, what did you need?”
Dean Lichman gestured for the duo to take a seat, and both did so. He folded desiccated hands in front of himself before beginning to speak.
“I would like to ask you two to take a look at an experiment that will be occurring later this week,” Dean Lichman said. “I don’t have any reason to believe it poses a threat, but I would like to be assured it is a safe and ethical environment, and, well, you two have a knack for identifying trouble spots.”
“You could say that,” Kim said. It was more accurate to say that trouble had a way of identifying them -and then leaping at them and ripping their heads off.
“I’d appreciate it if the two of you could simply examine the laboratory and give it your approval, or disapproval, as the case may be,” Dean Lichman said. “Though if you’re too busy, I fully understand.”
“If you don’t think this is dangerous, why are you asking for our help anyway?”
“Simply for my own peace of mind, frankly,” Dean Lichman said. “The school’s policies on animal experimentation are...satisfactory, I suppose, but I do want to take extra precautions when the subject is a creature as smart as an elephant.”
“An elephant?”
“Yes, a resident of a reserve in Thailand,” Dean Lichman said. “An older elephant by the name of Mae Noi. She has cancer, apparently, and she is submitting to experimental treatment in the hopes it will be useful for younger elephants.”
Kim’s digital face briefly flashed with a facial expression of concerned skepticism.
“‘She’ is submitting to treatment? As in the elephant?”
“Yes. Apparently the elephant can talk,” Dean Lichman said. “No, I don’t know how it works, they said it was ‘more impressive in person’.”
“Well now I kind of want to go just to see the talking elephant,” Vell said.
“Same.”
“Well, do try to take a few glances at the experiment’s safety while you’re there,” Dean Lichman said.
“Sounds like a plan,” Vell said. “Thanks for the heads up.”
“I’ll be there too,” Kim said.
“Excellent. Thank you both, and I’ll try not to take up too much of your time,” the Dean said. He then bid them both a polite goodbye and returned to his mountains of paperwork. Vell took a step out of the office and then took a sip from the soda he’d recently retrieved from the evil vending machine.
“So, what do you think?”
“I think I really do want to see the talking elephant,” Kim said.
“Obviously, yeah, we all want to see the talking elephant,” Vell said. “I mean the whole situation. You think the elephant thing is going to be the daily apocalypse for that day?”
“Well, on the one hand, an elephant seems like the kind of thing that would kill us,” Kim said. “But on the other, I feel like the fact we have advance warning means it’s not going to happen.”
“True. The universe probably wouldn’t make it that easy for us.”
“Yeah, but the elephant thing still feels pretty threatening,” Kim said. “Only way to find out is to wait a few days, I guess.”
A FEW DAYS LATER
“Hello you two,” Dean Lichman said. “And Hawke.”
“Hey,” Hawke said.
“He also wanted to see the talking elephant,” Kim explained.
“Well, that’s not a problem, it was an open invitation,” Dean Lichman said.
“Thanks. Still, sorry for not saying I was going to show up in advance,” Hawke said. “It took me a long time to make up my mind whether I was more interested in or afraid of a talking elephant.”
“They are rather large, aren’t they? I suppose that could be intimidating.”
“I’m okay with elephants on their own, it’s the talking part that doesn’t sit right with me,” Hawke said. “What if the elephant doesn’t like me? What if I’m the first person to ever get insulted by an elephant?”
“You’re less afraid of getting trampled by an elephant than insulted by one?”
“I’m a little afraid of trampling, but elephants are chill,” Hawke explained. “They wouldn’t attack unless provoked. I kind of feel like one might call me a dipshit unprovoked, though.”
“You have oddly specifics fears, Mr. Hughes,” Dean Lichman said.
“Yeah.”
In spite of those fears, Hawke happily stepped through the door to the zoology lab. It did not take a long time to locate the elephant in the room, as it was a literal elephant. The towering pachyderm was in a makeshift pen in the center of the lab, with an ample supply of food and a strange pedestal in front of her.
“Dr. Chanthara,” Dean Lichman said, with a polite wave to one of the researchers in the room. “Good to see you. These are the students I told you about.”
“Hm. Nice to meet you,” Dr. Chanthara said. He was, perhaps not unreasonably, skeptical of why three seemingly random students were in charge of a safety inspection. The fact that one of the three was a robot made him even more skeptical.
“Hi, nice to meet you too, and, uh, don’t mind us,” Vell said. “We just have an eye for weird things other people might miss.”
“Sure. I- wait. Aren’t you that kid who got chosen by a god?”
“Yeah, that’s me,” Vell said. “And her too, technically.”
Kim shrugged. She didn’t care for any extra attention on that point.
“Right,” Chanthara said. He was beginning to see why these students might know their stuff. “I suppose we should start by introducing you to Mae Noi. Say hello, Mae.”
The elephant shifted on her feet and poked her trunk at the wide pedestal in front of her twice.
“Hello. Friends,” a synthesized voice droned. Vell stepped a little closer to the pedestal, just enough to see that there were an array of buttons on the side facing Mae Noi.
“Oh, it’s kind of like a keyboard,” Vell said. He’d seen similar things used with dogs, though usually in a much simpler fashion. Mae Noi seemed to have a few dozen buttons at her disposal.
“Smart,” Mae Noi said, with another prod of her trunk.
“We initially put it into our sanctuary as a bit of a novelty, something elephants could choose to interact with,” Dr. Chanthara explained. “Mae Noi took to it a bit better than most. Especially once she found out she could use it to ask for food.”
“Food. Pumpkin. Pumpkin. Pumpkin.”
“No, Mae, no food until after experiment,” Dr. Chanthara scolded.
“Experiment,” Mae Niko said with a prod. “Pumpkin.”
“Yes, experiment then pumpkin,” Dr. Chanthara said.
“That’s not really a talking elephant, is it?” Hawke said.
“It’s more talking than most elephants,” Dr. Chanthara said.
“Elephant. Smart,” Mae Niko said. “Smart.”
“Yes, uh, right, elephant smart,” Hawke said. He took a step back, to avoid any further offense and any further risk of being insulted by Mae Noi.
“You’re very impressive, Mae, don’t mind him,” Kim said. “How many words does she know?”
“Our platform back home has around three hundred words, though she’s still learning some of them,” Dr. Chanthara said. “The ‘travel’ version we put together only has a hundred, just enough to make sure she can get her basic needs met and communicate about the experiment.”
“Right, speaking of, I do believe we should put some time into our reason for being here,” Dean Lichman interjected. “You’re welcome to stick around afterwards, at Dr. Chanthara and Mae Noi’s discretion, of course, but we should get underway.”
“We probably should get to business, yeah,” Kim said. She tapped the side of her metal head. “I’m going to scan the lab. Vell, you talk to the elephant and make sure everything’s above-board.”
“Abov- oh, right,” Vell said. “Sorry, not exactly used to being able to ask animals if they agree to animal experimentation.”
“Experiment,” Mae said.
“Yeah, experiment,” Vell said, as he turned to Mae. “So, Mae Noi, this experiment might hurt, do you know that?”
“Experiment. Hurt. Elephant,” Mae Noi prodded. “Experiment. Help. Elephant. Help. Baby.”
“Help baby?”
“Baby. Baby. Elephant. Sick. Baby. Sick.”
“We’ve explained the nature of her condition to Mae Noi as best we can,” Dr. Chanthara said. “She has several children, and is concerned they might be similarly affected.”
“Help. Baby,” Mae Noi said. “Experiment. Help.”
The way Mae Noi frantically tapped the buttons tugged at Vell’s heartstrings, but he choked those emotions down.
“So you want to do this experiment to help baby, got it,” Vell said. “Even if it hurts you?”
“Elephant. Old,” Mae Noi said. “Hurt. Okay. Help. Baby.”
“Huh. Well, that does sound like informed consent to me,” Vell said. “Passes ethical muster, at least.”
The campus rules allowed students to be experimented on, with their consent, so Vell saw no reason not to apply the same standard to an elephant.
“You speak up if you change your mind about the experiment, okay?”
“Stop. Stop. Stop,” Mae said, mashing the same button a few times. “Yes.”
“You got it. I’m going to go help my friends check things out,” Vell said. “Good talking to you, Mae.”
“Good. Talk. Friend,” Mae said. She waved goodbye with her trunk, and Vell waved back. He wandered away from Mae Noi’s pedestal and found Kim and Hawke carefully examining rows of beakers and various other supplies.
“Nothing sus yet, boss,” Hawke said.
“Nothing caustic, mutagenic, or explosive?”
“Well, something mutagenic, but it’s supposed to be,” Kim said. She had scanners built into her body much like those that had once been in Vell’s glasses, allowing her to analyze the complex chemical formulas at a glance. “They’re going for some gene editing similar to what we’ve tried to do on human cancer patients. Low success rate, but not harmful. Some adaptations to work on elephants, of course.”
“Run it by any of our chemistry and biology student friends yet?”
“A few,” Kim said. “Haven’t gotten anything back yet, though.”
“Maybe run it by Skye, too,” Vell said. “She’d recognize anything that’d mutate an animal.”
“She does love to mutate things,” Kim said.
“Benevolently,” Vell insisted. “Just show her. I’m going to check for any stray equipment.”
The presence of an unusually large test subject had resulted in the lab being rearranged and reshuffled, so Vell did a quick scan for any misplaced equipment that might pose a threat. He found, to his surprise, a tidy and well-organized environment, with any and all extraneous materials securely locked away. There wasn’t so much as a shrink ray out of place. Vell did another loop just to be sure, but returned to his friends empty-handed.
“This place has less safety hazards than my lab,” Vell said. Hawke stared at him for a while.
“Why does your lab have safety hazards?’
“I do runecarving, there’s like, hammers and chisels,” Vell said. “Those can hurt people.”
“Mm, true,” Hawke said. “So you really didn’t find anything?”
“Nothing,” Vell said. “This place is secure as I’ve ever seen a lab be.”
“It’s like I said,” Kim began. “We got an actual warning about it, so obviously nothing’s going to go wrong. That’d be too easy.”
“Maybe,” Vell said. “Things can get teleported in, or someone could cast a spell, or something.”
“Yeah, but that applies to anywhere, at any time,” Kim said.
“Kim’s right,” Hawke said. “I say we go business as usual.”
“I guess,” Vell said. “We have to branch out a little, at least. Can’t keep an eye on one room all day.”
The trio stopped sulking around the outskirts of the lab and returned to Dean Lichman and Dr. Chanthara.
“Everything looks good,” Kim said. “Probably the safest lab I’ve ever seen.”
“I’ll choose to take that as a compliment,” Dr. Chanthara said.
“We have very high safety standards here at the Einstein-Odinson,” Dean Lichman said, defensively. “Relatively speaking. Innovation requires some risk.”
“I understand perfectly. So does Mae.”
“Hurt. Okay,” Mae said.
“Not that okay,” Vell said. “Nice meeting you, Dr. Chanthara. You too, Mae.”
“Wait.”
Mae prodded one of the buttons on her pedestal and then pointed her trunk at the three of them. Hawke looked deeply concerned, but stepped forward alongside Vell and Kim. Mae Noi appraised them with massive brown eyes, and then moved her trunk back towards the pedestal. Vell noticed a distinctive scar on the bridge of her long nose just as Mae Noi pressed another button.
“Joke.”
“...Joke?”
Dr. Chanthara sighed and rolled his eyes.
“Just go along with it,” he said. “She likes to tell her joke.”
“Uh, okay,” Vell said. “Let’s hear it.”
“What. Elephant. Favorite. Part. Tree.”
“Umm...I don’t know, Mae,” Vell lied. He’d heard this joke from a kid, once. “What part?”
“Trunk,” Mae said. She gave a loud bray of amusement and then slammed her trunk down a few more times to emphasize the punchline. “Trunk. Trunk.”
“Oh, ha, I get it,” Kim said, hoping her feigned laugh was convincing. She’d never tried to lie to an elephant before. “Good one, Mae.”
Mae Noi shifted from side to side, looking pleased with herself, while the trio took a step back and stopped their feigned laughter.
“Did you give her buttons just to tell that joke with?”
“She gets upset,” Dr. Chanthara said. “I’m not even sure she understands the pun, she just likes people’s reactions.”
“As long as she’s having fun,” Hawke said.
“We’ll get out of your hair now,” Vell said. “Good luck with the experiment, feel free to let us know if you need a hand with anything.”
“I’ll keep it in mind,” Dr. Chanthara said. Some of his earlier skepticism seemed to have softened, but he did not seem entirely onboard with three strangers mucking about with his experiment. Vell and his friends left before they stretched what little goodwill they had any further. Mae Noi waved her trunk goodbye as the three left the lab and stepped back onto the quad.
“I’m going to try and sneak some classes in,” Hawke said. “Later.”
“I’ll check some of our usual hot spots,” Kim said, before she too left. Once again alone, Vell headed to one of his own classes, and called up Samson.
“Hey, Samson,” Vell began. “See anything interesting while we were playing with the elephant?”
“Well, I thought I clocked someone acting suspicious, but it turns out he was only sneaking around to go see his boyfriend,” Samson said. “Nothing apocalyptic, but I did get called a homophobe, which is pretty emotionally devastating.”
“I’m sure you’ll recover someday,” Vell said. “Keep an eye out. Usually the safer things look, the more dangerous things end up being.”
“Will do,” Samson said, before saying goodbye and hanging up.
***
Vell got increasingly nervous the longer the day went without its daily disaster. He thought about checking in on Mae Noi again, but then recalled Kim’s warning about it being too obvious, but then remembered that nobody had seen anything suspicious anywhere else, but then remember that Mae Noi’s lab had looked perfectly safe-
“Vell.”
“Huh?”
“You’re spiraling,” Kim said.
“I’m not spiraling, I’m just,” Vell said, with a pause for contemplation. “Considering multiple options.”
“In a spiral fashion,” Kim said. “Eat the damn french fries. Honestly, what’s the point of ordering so many if you’re just going to let them get cold?”
“It’s not like they’re going to go to waste,” Vell said. The same time loop that allowed him to eat massive amounts of french fries without fear of gaining weight also allowed him to avoid food waste. One of the upsides of life in a time loop.
“Just eat, Vell,” Kim said. “You worry too much about all this shit.”
“I’m in charge, it’s my job to worry about it,” Vell said.
“It’s your job to handle it,” Kim said. “There’s no point thinking about this shit before it happens, you spend all day thinking about an elephant and then the universe drops, like, a bat with tentacles on your head. Just deal with as it comes, Vell.”
Vell leaned on the table and managed to chomp down on a french fry or two.
“You know, next year, when I’m not running the show anymore, I’m going to call and see if you still think it’s that easy.”
“I sure hope so,” Kim said. “I’m saying all this shit trying to make myself believe it too.”
“Oh good, you’re lying to both of us,” Vell said. “That’s cool.”
“Fake it ‘til you make it, Vell, that’s how it goes,” Kim said. “Eat your damn french fries.”
Vell rolled his eyes and returned to his fries, which were now starting to cool. Thankfully he would not have to worry about finishing them. A loud crash from across campus interrupted him mid-bite and nearly made Vell choke on his fries. He painfully swallowed the half-chewed food and then looked over his shoulder.
“Son of a bitch, finally,” Vell said. A few years ago he’d found it weird whenever he was relieved about a disaster, but now he was just genuinely glad to get it over with. The waiting was as killer as the apocalypse. He tossed his fries in the trash and headed toward the sound of chaos, with Kim right behind him.
“Already told everybody?”
“Well, I may or may not have left Alex and Helena out of the loop…”
“Kim.”
“They’d find out anyway,” Kim said. “I got to use my brain parts to get in touch with them, even over wi-fi that shit feels dirty.”
“Just get in- stop.”
Vell held out his hand. Kim froze in place and did not move. Not intentionally, at least. There was a small amount of unintentional movement. The ground was vibrating.
“Always love a good earthquake,” Kim said.
“That’s not a quake,” Vell said. “That’s...footsteps!”
Vell grabbed Kim and dove out of the way just in time for something to barrel through the walls of the dining hall and stampede across the room. Tables, chairs, and more than a few students were crushed under the feet of a hulking, brown-furred behemoth as it charged. Kim picked herself and Vell up off the floor and tried to trail its progress.
“That’s a- oh fuck me,” Kim said. “Please don’t say you told me so.”
Vell got his bearings and looked across the room at the titanic form of a woolly mammoth. Though it was definitely recognizable as an archaic mammoth, the ancient creature was also heavily mutated, unnaturally large even by mammoth standards, and with multiple curled, jagged tusks protruding from a slobbering maw.
“Well that could be unrelated,” Vell said. “Mammoths can come from a lot of places, cloning accidents, time machines…”
The mammoth reached a wall, and rather than barreling through, turned around, facing directly towards Vell. A prominent scar covered the bridge of its broad trunk.
“Oh, nope, that’s definitely Mae,” Vell said. The scar was in the same place and at the same angle. Even a clone wouldn’t have an identical scar.
Once the revelation had struck, Mae took her turn. Vell found himself staring straight down the barrel of a very angry mammoth coming right at him at Vell-squishing velocity. Luckily he’d been charged at by a lot of creatures over four years of looping.
Vell jumped up and to the side, and latched on to one of the curled tusks, which made for very convenient handlebars. Kim did the same on the opposite side of Mae, and punched her in the head.
“Wait, wait, hold off on the violence for a second,” Vell shouted. He tried to wave at Kim to stop, but Mae was thrashing so violently he had to grip the tusks with both hands.
“Good plan,” Kim shouted. “Can you get Mae on board?”
Another set of tables got crushed underfoot. Thankfully the other students were out of trampling range by now, but Mae Noi’s feet were still coated in the blood of earlier victims.
“Mae’s smart, maybe we can calm her down,” Vell said. He then ducked to dodge a swat from Mae’s mutated trunk.
“Call me crazy, Vell, but I think this is more than just a bad mood,” Kim said, as she climbed up Mae’s seven jagged tusks like a ladder.
“We have to try,” Vell said. The loopers rule against hurting other intelligent life forms had some flexibility for blood-crazed mutants on violent rampages, but they had to at least try to reason first. Vell climbed up on of Mae’s tusks and looked into one of her bloodshot eyes for any sign of recognition. “Mae! It’s Vell, do you remember?”
The only response Vell got was an enraged trumpet, which he didn’t think was a “yes”.
“Come on, bud,” Vell said. “What’s an elephant’s favorite part of a tree, right? The trunk?”
The massive brown eye staring at Vell blinked, and he felt a brief glimmer of hope. He then felt a brief glimmer of his lungs being crushed as Mae swung her head and slammed her tusks into the wall, and Vell along with them. Kim punched Mae in the throat and then jumped across the tusks to grab Vell and carry him to safety.
“You okay, Vell?”
He opened his mouth to respond, and a pint or two of blood came out instead.
“Apparently not,” he mumbled. “I might be down a few ribs. And a lung. Or two.”
Kim carried Vell a safe distance from the fight and set him down on the ground, where he promptly spat out another mouthful of blood.
“Okay, uh, you just lie there and try to die peacefully, I guess,” Kim said.
“Way ahead of you.”
***
“Was that last bit as funny as I thought it was?” Vell asked. “I think the blood loss was affecting my sense of humor.”
“It was kind of hard to appreciate in the moment,” Kim said. “But as far as dying jokes go, it was pretty good.”
Vell and Kim walked into the lair for their morning meeting and joined the loopers that had already gathered.
“Okay, what’d I miss while I was dead?”
“Well, after Alex was done getting herself killed,” Samson began.
“You’re saying that as if it’s something to be ashamed of,” Alex said. “Vell also died.”
“Yeah, but he got killed trying to do something good. You got killed trying to do something stupid.”
“Trying to eliminate a threat is not stupid,” Alex said.
“We don’t kill intelligent creatures,” Hawke said. “Sometimes we punch them into a coma, but we don’t kill them.”
“When a dog bites, you put it down, I don’t see why the same principle doesn’t apply to a mammoth that’s crushed seventy people.”
“That wasn’t Mae’s fault,” Vell said. “She got mutated, or something. On that note: did you guys figure out what happened to Mae Noi?”
“Nothing,” Hawke said. “Looked like Mae smashed up the entire lab, trampled everyone involved in the experiment too. Nothing left to investigate, and nobody left alive to interrogate.”
“Typical,” Vell sighed. “At least we have an easy out. Dean Lichman was really concerned about the ethics of that whole experiment. We raise some kind of complaint, we could probably get the whole thing shut down.”
“The problem is getting the complaint,” Hawke said. “That lab was airtight, Vell.”
“Apparently not completely airtight,” Kim said. “I can camp out in the lab and raise an entirely justifiable stink whenever something capable of making a murder-mammoth shows up.”
“And what if it happens so suddenly you can’t complain about it?” Samson asked. “For all we know that could’ve been some kind of dimensional rift, or time anomaly, or something. It might not be as simple as somebody just putting in the wrong syringe at the wrong time.”
“He’s got a point,” Vell said. “We might want to shut this down before it gets there.”
“Seems like our best option is to plant evidence, then,” Alex said.
Everyone else at the table spent a few seconds brainstorming ways to prove her wrong, and much to their frustration, could not.
“Okay, fine,” Vell said. “But it needs to be something incidental, not something anyone would get blamed for. We want to cancel the experiment, not get anyone in trouble.”
“I could have a seizure on some sensitive equipment,” Helena offered. “It’ll break something and nobody would dare get mad at me.”
“Can you fake a seizure?”
“No, but I’m allergic to elephants, so I’d probably have one anyway the moment I stepped in the lab,” Helena said.
“I don’t feel entirely comfortable sending you into anaphylactic shock for a bit,” Vell said.
“Offer’s on the table,” Helena said. “I’ll live. Wouldn’t have made it through that trip to the zoo otherwise.”
“Anybody have any non-medical emergency suggestions?”
“Seagull in the air vents,” Kim said.
“Will that work?”
“It happens now and then,” Kim said. “Seagull gets in, and Dean has to close down the whole lab for potential material damage and biohazard risks if they shit in the vents.”
“Really? We’ve never had to deal with anything like that,” Hawke said.
“It may shock you to learn that sometimes minor, tedious bullshit happens that we have nothing to do with,” Kim said.
“That is kind of surprising, actually.”
“Enough. Kim, can you grab a seagull?” Vell asked. He shouldered his bookbag, and stuck a hand into the extradimensional pocket that existed within it. “I can probably smuggle it in with my bag.”
“Yeah, I can get you a seagull,” Kim said. Since she did not need to sleep, she had to find ways to keep herself entertained at night, seagull-grabbing being among them.
“Alright, we’ll go grab one and put it in the bag,” Vell said. “The rest of you, be ready to meet us when I call.”
***
Roughly three minutes later, Vell put out the call and they reconvened in front of the biology lab.
“Yeah, that was much faster than I thought it would be,” Vell said.
“I’m great at grabbin’ birds,” Kim said. Seagulls were among the easier birds to snatch, even. They were suckers for food, and many of them were attracted to her shiny metallic body anyway.
“Let’s just get this over with,” Vell said. “I want this thing out of my bag ASAP.”
Even though the seagull was safely within a pocket dimension, Vell would swear he could still feel the bird thrashing and squawking inside his bag. He tightened his grip on the shoulder strap and led the way towards the zoology lab entrance. He grabbed the handle and held it as he froze for a second.
“Vell, what’s up? Is this bird escaping?”
“No, the handle’s vibrating,” Vell said. It was shaking the same way a wall near an incredibly loud speaker might. He pressed his ear to the door and listened closely. He opened the door immediately, and let all his friends hear the frantic trumpeting of a panicked elephant.
Inside the lab, Mae Noi was stomping her feet and trumpeting as loud as he long trunk would allow. She swayed from side to side in her pen, bumping against the walls not quite hard enough to damage them, but hard enough that it was clear she was doing it on purpose.
“What the heck is happening here?”
“Ah, Vell,” Dean Lichman said. He hustled over to Vell’s side and gestured to the entire room. “Maybe you can figure out what’s going on.”
Mae Noi stopped braying long enough to start mashing her trunk against her pedestal, mashing out the word “Bad” over and over again.
“Our test subject, Mae Noi, has been throwing an absolute fit ever since she got here,” Dean Lichman said. “Dr. Chanthara, these are the students I was telling you about earlier.”
While Vell reintroduced himself to Dr. Chanthara, Kim and Hawke stepped up to examine Mae Noi and her enclosure. It was a far cry from the peaceful, orderly scene they had examined on the first loop. They were half an hour earlier this time than before, but Kim found it unlikely that they had been able to calm Mae Noi down, clean everything up, and get back to work in such a short amount of time. They hadn’t mentioned any of this panic on the first loop either. They were soon joined in their confusion by Chanthara and Vell.
“We’ve tried everything; food, water, her favorite toys, even videos of her children,” Dr. Chanthara said. “We’ve even offered to call off the experiment, but she won’t listen.”
“She is an animal,” Alex said. “Sometimes they do things arbitrarily.”
“Not Mae,” Dr. Chanthara said. “Some of our sanctuaries residents from traumatic backgrounds can have outbursts, but Mae was injured in the wild. She’s never been like this.”
“Maybe some experiment on the island is upsetting her,” Vell said. “A sonic experiment only she can hear, or something…”
Vell stopped and thought about it. If there had been such an irritant, it would’ve been there on the first loop too. Everything always repeated exactly the same, except for-
“Could you, uh, take a step back for a second?” Vell mumbled. “I want to try talking to her.”
“Don’t get close,” Chanthara warned him.
“I’m not, I’m not,” Vell said. He didn’t need to get very close to tell a joke.
The massive brown eyes of Mae Noi stayed locked on Vell as he approached, and she continued to mash the “Bad” button on her pedestal.
“I know, I know, bad,” Vell said. “But, uh, do you want to hear a joke?”
Mae Noi stopped. She locked eyes with Vell for a few seconds, and then cautiously tapped a button on her pedestal.
“Joke.”
“Right, joke,” Vell said. He tried to recall the exact sequence of words Mae had used on the first loop. “What elephant favorite part tree?”
Mae didn’t blink.
“Trunk,” Vell said.
After a moment of contemplation, Mae Noi let out one final, fervent, trumpet, and then started mashing buttons on her pedestal again.
“Bad. Help. Help. Experiment. Bad. Help. Bad. Help.”
“Yeah, bad help, one second,” Vell said. He turned away from Mae Noi to look at Dean Lichman. “Hey, uh, excuse me, Dean? Hey, uh, if I remember correctly there are some pretty complicated rules on having intelligent animals on campus, yes?”
“Well, yes,” Dean Lichman said. After hearing of some questionable ethical practices involving an octopus back in first year, he had instituted a few clauses into the school’s ethical code of conduct regarding intelligent animals like elephants, octopuses, and dolphins. “Mae’s presence here is a bit of an outlier, but there were workaround, given her apparent consent to the experiment.”
“Yeah, about that, is she, uh,” Vell began. “Is she registered as a student?”
“Yes.”
Vell pursed his lips. It took a few seconds for his friends to catch on.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Samson snapped. He turned his back on the crowd and leaned against a wall while Hawke put his head in his hands.
“The first rule of looping,” Alex said quietly. “Loopers are randomly selected-”
She looked up and locked eyes with Mae Noi.
“From all registered students.”

First / Patreon (Read 5 Chapters Ahead)

AKA: Ain’t Nothing but a Horndog
–
Private Owens let out another tired sigh as he sat there, his head held in his hands. After the incident with Petra, he’d been forcibly confined to his room, pending further disciplinary action. It didn’t take a genius to figure out exactly how he was going to be disciplined; at best, he figured he’d be getting a court martial. At worst, they’d probably just throw him out the airlock or something.
Harsh, to be sure, but if he’d actually succeeded in inadvertently costing humanity their spot as a central player on the galactic stage, then no punishment was truly out of the question. Hell, Major Barnes had talked about having him drawn and quartered, and if he truly had fucked up that monumentally bad, then it wasn’t even out of the question.
“Way to go, idiot…” Owens muttered to himself. “All this because you couldn’t stay away from the booze or keep it in your pants for a night…”
He let out yet another sigh of despondency, bringing a hand up to brush through his auburn-colored hair. He’d just had it cut short, which was a good thing, because it meant that he’d actually look presentable at his soon-to-be funeral.
Assuming Major Barnes let him keep his head, of course.
Just as that thought crossed his mind, the door to his quarters opened. Owens looked up, and was not surprised to see Major Barnes and Captain Johnson standing there. Somehow, they looked even more imposing than usual, which was odd given that Major Barnes was from Texas and built like the bulls he used to ride, while Captain Johnson was a former MMA fighter.
That was to say that if there were any two people the higher-ups would have sent to beat him to death with their bare hands, it’d be these two, to say nothing of the fact that they’d probably outright requested it given what he’d done.
Assuming they weren’t about to lead him to Captain Ulfur or something, of course. Couldn’t exactly discount that as a possibility, either.
“Alright, on your feet,” Major Barnes announced.
Private Owens blinked. “Sir?”
“I said, on your feet. Are you going to make me repeat myself again?”
“N-no, Sir.” Owens scrambled to his feet. He stood there at attention, doing his best not to start sweating bullets as Major Barnes leaned in to examine him, one hand on his chin.
“Hm…”
“Sir?”
The two of them locked eyes, Barnes’ set of brown staring into Owens’ green. And despite his best efforts, Owens couldn’t help but begin sweating then and there. Captain Johnson shifted a bit out of the corner of his eye, but Owens didn’t dare look over to him; experience had taught him that, much like a T-Rex, the Major’s vision was based on movement. This wasn’t to imply that he could only see things when they moved, but rather that moving was a good way to draw attention to oneself, in the same way that the squeaky wheel tended to get the grease.
To put it simply: predators enjoy it greatly when their prey tries to struggle. And at this moment in time, Owens was nothing if not the juiciest piece of prey available to his commanding officers on the whole station.
The seconds ticked by. Owens dared not count them, both because he didn’t want to press his luck and because he dreaded finding out how short eternity actually was. Finally, after those few agonizingly slow seconds passed, Major Barnes took a step back and let his hand fall from his chin, then clasped his arms behind his back.
“You have no idea how fucking lucky you are, Marine.”
Owens stiffened. “Sir?”
Major Barnes let out a tired sigh, then turned to Captain Johnson. “Smoking is still banned on this station, right?”
“It is outside of the dedicated smoking zones,” Johnson replied. “It upsets the Vuks’ sense of smell.”
“Damn… what about drinking?”
“Allowable outside of working hours, but I’d like to remind you that alcohol is what got us into this mess in the first place.”
“Ah, yes.” Major Barnes turned back towards Owens, his eyes narrowing. “Now, Private – perhaps you’d care to answer a question for me?”
“O-of course, Sir,” Owens stammered out.
“What in the hell made you think Jack Daniels was your friend?”
Owens felt a chill go down his spine. “Uh, Sir?”
“Stop phrasing my title like a question, please. Answer the question.”
Owens hesitated. Thankfully, Captain Johnson came to his rescue.
“Actually, if I remember right, the bartender said he was ordering Captain Morgan and tequila.”
Barnes let out a low whistle. “Damn, for real? What were you thinking, Private? You know rum and tequila don’t mix.”
“Apparently, he hasn’t heard how racist Captain Morgan is – everyone knows the Captain hates Mexicans.”
“U-um…” Private Owens said. “...Is this you both smoking me out?”
“Of course not, Private,” Major Barnes instantly replied. “After all, we’re not in a smoking area, remember?”
Private Owens wasn’t sure if the Major was trying to be dangerously sarcastic or if that was a genuine attempt at levity. In either case, he thought it best to stay silent. Finally, after a few more seconds had passed, Major Barnes shook his head.
“I mentioned earlier that you were lucky,” he said. “Hell, you’re probably the luckiest man alive. Possibly the luckiest man in history. Do you know why that is?”
“Because I’m not dead yet?”
“Partially, but no. No, you’re the luckiest man alive because, in spite of you making a drunken ass of yourself and banging their head diplomat, the Vuk voted to allow us into the Council, after all.”
Private Owens couldn’t help but sputter in surprise at that news. He took a moment to recover, then turned back towards the Major, surprise etched across his face. “You’re serious?” After a moment, he added, “Sir?”
“Oh, I’m very serious,” Major Barnes confirmed with a nod. “See how lucky you are, Private? Not only did you get laid, but you also somehow didn’t completely fuck everything up for our entire species, which means that I very unfortunately don’t get to space you.”
Private Owens hesitated. Next to him, Captain Johnson crossed his arms. “Breathe, Private. You look like you’re about to pass out.”
Owens did as he was told, sucking in a deep breath of air before exhaling it. Once he had taken a breath to calm himself, he opened his eyes again, once more staring at Major Barnes.
“So, if you don’t mind me asking, Sir… what happens now?”
“Good question,” Barnes replied. “Well, given that you might have actually done all of humanity a huge solid by sleeping with Petra, there’s not really much I can do to actually punish you. I mean, I could, but that’d reflect pretty badly on me, and if there’s one thing I care about, it’s my service record.”
“Immaculate service record,” Captain Johnson amended. “Downright radiant, really.”
“Exactly. And it’d really suck to mar it by having to write a young Marine for something like this, especially since it’s very possible that the only reason Petra voted yes was because the sex was so good.”
Private Barnes flushed red. “U-um… thanks, Sir. I think.”
“Don’t be so modest, Private – you know women talk. Well, word’s apparently gotten around, and now a fair few of the Vuk women are very curious about how the human mouth works. But that’s neither here nor there; the point is, we’re at a bit of an impasse. I can’t exactly smoke you for this, even though I really want to. But at the same time, I can’t just let you off the hook, either.”
“So… what do you plan to do with me, Sir?”
Major Barnes cracked a wide, wicked-looking grin. A chill went down Owens’ spine at the sight of it.
“Why, it’s simple, Private,” Barnes began, “in this situation, I think it only fitting that I throw you to the wolves… or, in this case, the devil dogs.”
Owens didn’t even have time to beg for mercy before Captain Johnson grabbed him and muscled him out the door, over to the barracks where the rest of his platoon was staying.
–
It wasn’t a surprise to Owens when they opened the door to the barracks and roughly shoved him inside, then closed it back up and locked it. He scrabbled at the door in vain for a moment before pausing and turning around.
His entire platoon was there, because of course they were.
Owens froze at the sight of them. Getting smoked by the Major and the Captain was bad enough, but that was nothing compared to the absolute fucking firestorm that was headed his way from the rest of the platoon. Slowly, he raised a hand.
“Uh, hey, guys,” he offered.
For a moment, nobody said or did anything. It was deathly silent in the barracks. But then, it happened.
Someone started the slow clap.
It began as just one person, but rapidly grew to two, and then three, and then all of a sudden, they were all doing it. And as they clapped, they were shouting at him, or rather, they were chanting – one simple word, which ordinarily wouldn’t have had much meaning, but with the way they were saying it, Owens just knew it was going to haunt him until he was discharged.
And that word was…
“Horn-Dog! Horn-Dog! Horn-Dog!”
Owens cringed as the word reached his ears. Unfortunately, that did nothing to actually block it out, and it only got worse when everyone in the platoon came up, still chanting, and took turns slapping him on the back.
And, naturally, the questions followed shortly thereafter.
“What was it like?”
“Was it as good as she’s making it sound?”
“Are you really that good with your tongue?”
“What’s it like being an actual furry?”
“Guys!” Owens finally blurted out, having had enough. “Look, I’ve… I’ve had a bit of a long day, you know? So can I at least take a seat before you start bombarding me with questions?”
The platoon fell silent at that. Owens breathed a sigh of relief, then began to stride through them; they parted like the Red Sea as he walked.
“Carefully,” one of them said, “he’s a hero.”
Owens flipped that guy off without even looking back. Finally, he reached his bunk and took a seat on it, then breathed a sigh of relief.
And the moment he was settled, the platoon was surrounding him once more, eager for him to answer their questions. Owens took a breath.
“Let me get one thing perfectly straight,” he said, “I don’t kiss and tell.”
“Dude, come the fuck on,” one of the men, Corporal Ramirez, protested. “You realize that she’s been telling her people about it, right?”
“For real, man,” Sergeant Douglas agreed with a nod. “Some of the Vuk females have been eye-fucking us ever since.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Oh, I’m serious. Apparently, that tongue do be putting in the work.”
Owens’ brow furrowed. “That’s nasty, dude.”
“What the fuck are you talking about? You did it, not me! I’m just reporting some of the shit that’s been happening ever since you fucking gave Lassie the ol’ in-out.”
“First of all, don’t talk about her that way,” Owens warned. “I get that you’re just joking, but she’s still a diplomat, as well as the reason we’re even having this conversation right now. And not in that way!” He hurriedly added when he saw several of the men about to say something. “She was the deciding vote. If it weren’t for her coming through for us, we’d have been fucked.”
Corporal Ramirez hesitated, but only for a moment. “I mean-”
“Dude, don’t.”
“I’m just saying-”
“I am seriously begging you not to say it.”
Ramirez paused, but eventually, his baser instincts won out. “...She definitely did come through for us, and at least one of us was definitely fucked.”
Owens closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath before opening them again. “...Just for that, I’m not gonna tell you all what it was like.”
“Dude, come on,” Sergeant Douglas protested. “You’re really gonna do us like this? You’re gonna just fucking Captain Kirk it up and then refuse to talk about it?”
“Yes, I-” Owens paused. “...Captain Kirk?”
“Yeah.”
“Really?”
“Hey, you’re the first human to actually fuck an alien, at least as far as anyone knows. It fits.”
“No, no, I’m not complaining, it’s just… I can’t be Shepard?”
“The fuck you talking about? You’re no Shepherd, that’s for sure.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Because you couldn’t keep the wolf away.” Owens glared at him and Douglas just rolled his eyes. “Come on, Horndog, you’re just teeing these things up for me at this point. I can go all night.”
“Shame he couldn’t,” Ramirez added. “Or did he only stop because he got caught?”
“That’s a fair question, actually. Horndog, be honest – if you hadn’t been caught, would there have been another round?”
“How many rounds were there, anyway?” one of the other Marines asked.
“Do you think she’d have wanted breakfast afterwards?” another added. “Makes me wonder… do you think the Vuk prefer waffles, or pancakes?”
“I dunno, man. They seem pretty partial to creampies, if you ask me.”
“Guys!” Owens shouted, cutting them all off. He grit his teeth for a moment, but then let out another exhale. “...It probably goes without saying, but I am very, very, ridiculously tired right now. I’m very thirsty and I haven’t had anything to eat in a long-ass time.”
Ramirez opened his mouth to say something.
“Ramirez, if you say what I know you’re going to say, I will seriously fucking Code Red you by myself.”
Ramirez closed his mouth and said nothing.
Owens let out yet another exhale. “Look, fellas – let me just get some sleep, and then I’ll tell you as much as I can about it without it being disrespectful to her. Okay?”
“Sure, man, whatever you say,” Douglas offered.
“Thanks, guys.”
With that, Owens laid down in his bunk and closed his eyes, doing his best to enjoy the silence.
It lasted for all of five seconds before someone broke it.
“So, was this technically bestiality?”
Owens threw a blind punch, and just like that, the entire barracks erupted into chaos.

Special thanks to my good friend and co-writer, Ickbard, for the help with writing this story.

Female, 27, 5'1, 119lbs, no medications. non-smoker.
I have a history of pancreatitis, IBS, minor stomach ulcers etc.
I started with what I thought was a stomach bug or food poisoning, diarrhea, chills and high temperature, extreme pain in the abdomen and distention, migraine, and joint pain.
I had had pancreatic flares before and never had symptoms other than severe pain predominately on one side. I know pancreas pain and it doesn't seem like this is the main issue, I am sure all are playing off each other anyways.
Once the headache, fever, and joint pain subsided, I was left with stabbing gut pain and severe bloat for over a week now. Anything I eat or drink hurts, and I now have severe hemorrhoids which I have had in the past. I can't have solid stool, I get huge stomach pain and a minor amount of loose sludge if I am lucky. It's not easing up and I have a prescription of Anusol coming tomorrow for a start but I fear there's a deeper issue going on. I should note there is also a strong burning sensation all over my abdomen.
Thoughts? I'd love to avoid the hospital if possible.

Some background info. I started working around Sept. 2022, and the job involved soldering, working with silicones, epoxies, other chemicals etc, all of which produce toxic fumes. At that time I did not know how dangerous it was. For the first couple months, the only thing bothering me were strong unpleasant smells when I or someone else in the same room was soldering or working with the chemicals. As time passed however, I started having symptoms such as nausea, lightheadedness and a burning in my nasal passages when breathing. I was working in a closed room with no fume extraction/ventilation to the outside, and when asked, the company said that it would be too expensive to install such a system (even though the company could easily afford it). I asked the company to get fume filtration systems so that at least the air inside was being filtered, as there were no real protective measures in place, but they said that they are working on it, that there are delays etc. The fume filters were not bought/installed.
My symptoms kept getting worse from the chemical exposure though, and now I was feeling naseous/lightheaded, had a cough and wheezing, and my nose, throat, nasal passages, and lungs were all burning when at work and breathing the fumes. It was fucking torture working there, having to endure the smell and burning nose/throat/lungs every single day. Whereas a couple months prior the symptoms would go away when not at work, now they were permanent, and my respiratory system was constantly irritated and burning/painful even when not at work. I couldn't run or work out, as any physical activity would cause my chest to tighten, making me unable to breathe properly and causing me to go into a coughing fit. I quit the job around Feb. 2023. Leading up to it, I kept getting more and more depressed, but then one day I had a mental breakdown at work, sobbing and everything, as I realized what has happened to me.
I don't know why I didn't stand up for myself. I don't know why I didn't refuse to work without proper protections against the chemicals in place. I don't know why I didn't quit earlier. Maybe I do know, maybe it's because i'm just a weak beta loser. I fucking hate the company, I fucking hate the supervisors who didn't put proper protections in place, and I fucking hate myself for letting this happen to me. I got extremely depressed after I quit, I didn't want to do anything, I lay in bed all day and I cried every single night for months. I had nightmares, I feel like I have been traumatized. I even had a plan for committing suicide which I was scarily close to doing, with only one minor thing stopping me. I never had plans for killing myself before this.
As months passed, I got a bit better, but only a bit. Some of the symptoms went away, but the pain is still here. I can now do physical activity without my lungs constricting and having a coughing attack, but my respiratory tract still feels hypersensitive, and there is still a constant burning pain every time i take a breath. Every. Single. Fucking. Time. I've went to doctors, to the hospital, rinsed and sprayed with different medicines, but the pain won't go away. I also started having heart problems, my heart started skipping beats, and I don't know whether it is due to the chemical exposure or the extreme stress that I went through. The depression has gotten a bit better, but i'm still reminded every single day by the pain about what has happened to me and how I should have made different decisions in my life.
Is there anything I can do, is there any legal action I can take against the company? They failed to provide a safe working environment, they caused me medical problems, severe chronic pain and immense emotional distress. I'm lost as what to do now.
Thanks to anyone who responds with any helpful info. Take care of yourselves, remember to stand up for yourself and don't make the same mistakes I did.

I somehow avoided Covid for years and finally got it last fall. Since then I have a constant cough, phlegm, headaches, sweating and exhaustion when I’m not even doing anything strenuous. I can write well but I struggle with speaking coherently sometimes.
I work in customer support and am on the phone about 75% of the day. Constantly trying to mute before I cough and ruining my reputation by taking sick time. I’m wondering if anyone has gotten any ADA accommodations for long Covid or even what they could be.

On days 1-3 my throat was very sore and I was exhausted. On days 4-5 my nose was running constantly and I was still exhausted. On day 6 my nose and throat are mostly fine but I am still exhausted and I have a fever of 99.9. Some chills.
I thought it was a cold at first but I never had a cold like this where the fever didn’t develop until six days in. Trying to figure how much longer I’ll be like this.

My sister has COVID and is not coming to my wedding on Thursday. Idk. I just need to vent. I’ve been sobbing all day, stress induced sickness all day. I’m gutted. Emotional. My mom tried to downplay it so I was hopeful she was on the up and up. I called and spoke to her and she was in fact, not. 102 fever, cough and runny nose. She’s not gonna be able to attend. I’m heartbroken.

Dracula: World of War --- The Violet Reaper ---- Humans Don’t Make Good Familiars Book 1 ---- The Lonely World --- Discord ---- YouTube --- My Patreon --- My Author's Page --- ArcAngel98 Wiki ---- The Next Best Hero ---- HDMGF Book 2 ---- Jess and Blinx: The Wizard ---- The Questing Parties ---- Previous
It took a month for Zanwy to recover from losing her wing. The shaman said everything went well, but afterwards she developed a fever for three days, and couldn’t move from the pain for over a week. Even after the fever broke and the pain faded, she was still too weak to move, and could not eat for some time. I visited her every day, bringing her food, making sure she ate even a little, and peeling the chard scales off the wound to help it heal. The shaman never even returned once to check on Zanwy. Her parents and siblings stayed with her, but that may have only been because they lived there too. After she recovered her strength, we started making plans on what to do. She knew the swarm wouldn’t accept her anymore, and I never felt at peace within it, so our plan was to leave.
“Are you ready?” I asked Zanwy as we overlooked the cliff edge. Even though I could fly now, I was not strong enough to carry her, so she needed to climb down. Which, after a month of infrequent meals and not moving much, seemed risky. “We could wait a few more weeks. Until you recover.”
“No. I can’t stay here.” One claw after the other, her wing pressed tightly to her back so she didn’t catch an updraft and twist, her belly flat against the rock, and her head pointed to the ground, she climbed down carefully. Of course, I could have glided down, but I didn’t. It felt wrong now somehow. The rocks shadows had moved over an inch before we made it to the bottom, with the forest we loved so much as our first destination. We thought that maybe the first place we should go could be past the furthest point we’d gone together.
Walking through those familiar rolling grassy hills and past the jumper’s nests, I listened to these familiar sounds one last time. Taking it all in, I heard, of course, that penetrating roar of the swarm, but there was also the small wet splashes of the jumpers moving about, the small howl of the wind as it made waves in the tall grass, the crunch of that same grass under our claws as we walked, and Zanwy’s slight panting. She was out of breath, but was keeping quiet, hoping I wouldn’t notice.
Eventually, we reached the edge of the forest, and stopped to eat red-berries. We sat in the grass and ate the red-berries that had fallen out of the treetops. Once we’d had our fill, and juice dripped from our snouts, I asked Zanwy, “How do you feel?”
“Off balance. Walking is a lot harder than I remember it being.” Zanwy said, limping slightly.
“Can you climb?” I looked up to the branches we always run along.
“I… no. I don’t think so.”
“What if I helped you?”
“Maybe, but jumping along the branches would be hard.” A drop of berry juice ran down her mouth and landed on the grass as she licked her claws clean.
“Okay, we can just-”
“No, I wanna try.” Zanwy said.
Getting Zanwy up the tree truck was clumsy and hard. She rested her tail on my head as I climbed below her, pushing her up for support. It took a few minutes but she and I made it to the strong branches. The branch swayed with the wind, and Zanwy flared her one wing, before quickly realizing her mistake and pulling it, and herself, closer to the branch. Using my wings to balance myself, I walked over to her. “Should we go back down?”
“Not yet. Just let me…” She slowly stood back up, and kept her wing pressed to her body. The nub where her missing wing had once been pressed itself down too, mimicking the movements of the other like an invisible mirror. Pushing off, she jumped to another nearby branch, and landed safely on the other side. Once again, I heard heavy panting, but she couldn’t hide it as well right now. “See, I can do it!” Zanwy yelled excitedly as her tail swayed back and forth from the edge. I followed suit, and lept to the branch next to her. It took a while, but she found a rhythm, and we ran along the branches for nearly an hour, until the sun began to set.
“It’s almost night. Let’s find somewhere to sleep.” I suggested.
“Yeah, let’s head back to the ground.” Zanwy agreed.
“You don’t want to sleep in the trees?”
“No. Without my wing… I don’t wanna risk falling by accident. Do you mind sleeping with me on the ground?”
“Okay, let’s find somewhere safe.” We spent a few minutes looking around, and found a tree with a hollow spot near the base. It was cramped, but empty. By the time the moon rose we had already settled down. Zanwy rested closer to the back of the hollow, and I slept near the entrance.
“It’s cold.” She said, and yawned. Since we were under a tree, the walls of the hollow couldn’t be heated with fire directly. So slowly and carefully, Zanwy and I used our fire to heat the dirt under us instead. Small embers of grass charred, caught fire, and burned away, leaving the ground much warmer; enough for us to sleep comfortably.
That night, I dreamt of Zanwy. She was flying around, soaking up the sunlight with her wings. I was the too; flying right beside her. We danced in the sky together. Zipping and diving about. It was so quiet. It was just us; as a perfectly happy swarm of two. Later that night, I woke up feeling sluggish and dizzy. A moment later I realized how cold it had gotten, and that the heat from the ground had long since gone. Zanwy was still asleep, and I didn’t want to wake her up.
Controlling flames is easy… to a point. But once something is on fire, you don’t control how it burns. That was something my father taught me when I breathed my first flame. The grass had already burned, so I assumed it could burn again. Because of that, I thought it would be safe to use more this time. I assumed wrong. One breath was all it took, and the walls turned yellow with fire. I tried to put it out by beating it with my tail and wings, but that only spread it faster.
“Zanwy! Get up!” I shouted. Dragons may be harder to burn, but enough fire can char and blacken even our scales.
Zanwy startled awake, “what’s going on? What happened!?” The flames started creeping closer, so she scrabbled to her and we both ran out of the hollow. It didn’t take long for the rest of the tree to burn, and for the fire to spread to the nearby trees. We ran away as fast as we could, the smell of smoke in our noses, and the sounds of crackling flames left behind us. Once we’d gotten safely out of the forest, I told Zanwy what happened.
“I’m sorry.” I told her.
“I guess the forest isn’t as used to fire as our nests are.” She said. She was upset, but was trying to not let me hear it. “Let’s just find someone else to sleep for tonight.” It was dark, but we could both see well enough to spot a rocky outcrop.
“Rocks are harder to burn than trees.” Zanwy said, crawling into an opening between the rocks. We crawled inside, and made sure there was nothing that could burn this time.
“Looks safe to heat these up.” I suggested. Zanwy agreed, and we spent several minutes making the place warm. “Much better.”
We finally got to sleep again after that, and woke up to beams of light hitting our eyes from the opening in the rocks. I rolled my head away from the light, and covered my eyes with my wings. I was all set to go back to sleep, until Zanwy said, “Woah… look at this, Blinx.”
Sliding one of my wings down, I peaked an eye open. With the sun out, the cave we were in became a lot brighter. Enough to see that it was much deeper than we’d realized. Zanwy, who’d slept further in than I did, noticed it first.
“This hole is really deep.” She said. “And it gets darker inside too. Do you wanna go explore it?”
I stood up, and my stomach growled. “Sure, but let’s eat first.” We left the cave in search of food. Outside, we found three things. One, some tasty slitherers under a big rock. Two, some water under another rock. And three, a burned down forest. Well, not the whole forest, but a lot of it that we could see. In the distance, white smoke rose into the sky from a few different places. A lot of the grass around the rocky area had been burnt up too.
“I guess we slept through the worst of it.” Zanwy said.
“Are the fires out now, at least?”
“Yeah, the smoke it white, so nothing’s burning anymore.” The was a moment of quiet, and I thought about how lucky we were to escape that tree in time, and how careless I was.
“I’m… sorry. We almost got hurt because of me.”
“Forget it. Name one dragon who hasn’t accidentally burned something with their breath. Let’s just go look at that cave. That’s why we left, right? To explore?” She said.
“Yeah, let’s go.”
The cave itself was very deep, and the walls were made of stones of lots of different colors. As we climbed down, we had to squeeze between rocks, and scrabble with our claws to make holes as we went deeper and deeper down. Eventually, the light from outside didn’t shine, but we could still see fairly well, though not as far, and without any colors. The cave quickly went from colorful, to just shades of gray. As we went along, the sounds of our claws on the stone did something strange. The sounds started happening several times, and coming from all around us.
“Do you hear that Zanwy?” I asked.
“Hear what?”
“Listen,” I said, and tapped the stone with my claw. Suddenly, the same tap came from above, below, and beside us; like a tiny swarm was clattering all around the rocks.
“Let me try.” She said, and scratched a stone. Once again, the sounds repeated. “Oh wow!” We decided to go deeper, and find out what was causing the sounds to do that. Eventually though, we entered a big open area in the cave.
“What is this?” I asked, hoping down into the area, and looking around.
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s the village of another species!” Zanwy said. “Hello!” She cried out with her mind in a way that any species could hear and understand, but there was no answer. As we continued to look around, we found all kinds of things. There were strangely small hard clay nests all around, but they were filled with tiny rocks and ash and mud. There were also lines of white mud on the ground. I followed them, and they led to the center of the ‘village’.
“Find anything?” Zanwy asked, walking over.
“No, but I am getting cold.”
“Yeah, it was much warmer aboveground.”
“Do you wanna warm up?”
“No, you go ahead, I’m going to keep looking around.” She said. As she walked away, I used my fire to warm up the rocks below me. Suddenly, light started to shine from the mud lines, revealing that I was standing on a large, circle with a strange pattern on it. The light got brighter and brighter, and I tried to run, but found that I couldn’t move. “Blinx!”
“Zanwy!” Without warning, I felt dizzy, and I could move again. Then I heard the sounds of something behind me, but it wasn’t Zanwy. Growly, I tried to make myself look bigger, and threatening. Whatever it was, it stood on two legs, and was rubbing its eyes. In its hand was a broken tree branch, with a rock at one end. The cave village had been filled with light, but it came from all around.
“What the?” The creature mumbled, looking at me. “Are you a dragon?” I growled at the creature, while looking around for Zanwy, but she wasn’t there.
“Who are you? Where’s Zanwy?” I demanded. I let the flames build up in my mouth to show that I was dangerous.
The creature grabbed her head. “Telepathy. That’s new. My name is Jess. I’m a wizard. Who are you?”

Hi moms. We are currently at Disney world on vacation and our son is so sick. We are stuck here at the hotel and he seems to be staying the same every day. Low grade fever, horrid cough and seemingly endless runny nose. He perked up considerably this morning and always seems to fall back. Has anyone been through a sickness like this? How did you cope? I'm high stress. We are taking him to the doctor tomorrow but I'm terrified. I don't want him to have a secondary infection or anything. His fever was moderately high in the beginning but had remained mostly low grade. We can see that the slight temperature still affects his mood and comfort. I want my boy to get better. He's never been this sick for this long. What on earth is going around?
Thanks for letting me cry on your shoulder.

Has anyone experienced worse asthma or related issues from Losartan?
As far as I can tell there’s only preliminary studies on Losartan’s class of drugs and its impact on bronchial spasms. But side effects also list stuffy nose and a cough.
I’m 90% sure Losartan is the cause of some of my issues. Due to pharmacy hiccups I didn’t have it for nearly 2 weeks and started feeling better. Then back on it for 2 days and the issues came back.
I need to talk to my doctor if I even need to be on it anyway. I was stuck in basically a year-long asthma flare following a double whammy of bronchitis and a smoke induced sinus infection. My blood pressure got super high because I was having trouble breathing. Losartan did nothing for months. Then once my asthma treatments really kicked in my blood pressure returned to normal. But she insisted I stay on the meds. I’m more than a little irritated because she’s yet another doctor who looks at my weight and thinks it’s the cause of all my issues when it’s a product of spending my entire life with untreated asthma. I lost like 30lbs just from the sheer reduction of stress.
Okay, rant over. Anyone else experience asthma complications due to blood pressure meds?

Thanks to Patron Member u/Entharo_entho - Here is the wiped out Tweet retrieved
Context - Wiped out from Internet
In March, I got a chance to work with filmmaker Sanjay Leela Bhansali right after he made Gangubai Kathiawadi, and Alia Bhatt, playing the titular character in the film, retweeted me.
The headline (in my head) was going to be, ‘The Boy From Kamathipura Goes To Bhansali Mandi.’
Then reality struck in April.
One of my closest friends Sweta called me from the Shivapuri National Park near Kathmandu and put me on speaker. Two other friends Mona and Ayush were listening to the WhatsApp call.
‘How’s it going with Bhansu?’ Sweta asked.
‘We are not working together anymore,’ I said.
‘Whaaaaaaaat?’ the three people shrieked, creating a wavy disturbance in audio frequency.
‘Whyyyyy?’ they cried, collectively anguished.
‘He said he is not feeling the vibes.’
‘What?’
‘Vibes,’ I said aloud, causing a seismic tremor in the audio frequency.
‘What vibes?’ Sweta jibed, ‘Maybe he can’t feel the vibrator.’
Laughter upped the vibes.
First, a little context on how I got that far. Check this, this, this & this.
So my tweets were going viral in February-March.
In the second week of March, a woman DM’d me saying she loves the tweets. I said thank you. She said she works at Bhansali Productions.
Whoopsie Daisy!
I asked if I could be a part of the production. She checked with SLB and team. He said he wants to meet now.
NOW!
How?
I was in Calcutta.
I called an actor friend in Bombay and told him about it.
“They will book your tickets and put you up in 5-star,” he said, “Like Hollywood.”
“This is Bhansaliwood,” I said, “Yahan dhanda hamesha manda hai.”
I flew (on my own expense) and met him.
I was ‘prepared’ by his team for the meeting with His High and Mightiness.
I was told:

Arre, then what do I say?
I sashayed in a brown kurta and white linen trousers. Please see Madhuri Dixit-Nene’s brown ghagra for aesthetic reference I used from my very limited wardrobe of the only kurta I had at the time. By the way, the chorus sings ‘Jhanak Jhanak Payal Baaje,’ aesthetically referencing you know what, right?
He was lunching with his minions (strictly calling them minions from his pov) when I arrived in his pristine white dining hall in a building called Magnum Opus. Where else should he reside, no? Both his house, and his office (where I was ‘prepared’ earlier) were tastefully done in creamy white.
It was, as I said to my friend later, like walking into a cumulus cloud, or like sitting on his favourite singer Lata Mangeshkar’s lap. Calm, serene and quite surreal. I was inside his snow globe. Violins from a Bach concerto (in my head) were replaced with say Madan Mohan’s doleful rendition of ‘Mai ri main ka se kahoon peedh apne jiya ki.’ (Side effect of writing this on Mother’s Day.)
I look for books when I enter a house for signs of intelligent life. There were lots of lamps and candelabras but where were the stacks of books they were perched on? The aesthetic was high on film set disposable kitsch. I stared into a cumulative void.
The minions were intensely debating Darjeeling momos. What’s that? I spent my childhood there. Never heard of this GI tag!
SLB relished his meal and said, “I want puranpoli today.”
Puranpoli appeared not out of thin air, but a house-help flipping wishes instantly on a griddle on the fifth floor. We were on the first floor. Although the puranpoli is shaped like a flying saucer, it doesn’t fly, perhaps burdened by the weight of excess ghee and crowd-pleasing expectation. It does, however, reach SLB’s plate at the speed of light.
‘Give him some,’ he asked a minion to serve me while I waited on the sofa.
‘I’ve had lunch, thank you,’ I said, trying to behave. The plate arrived. I took a mousy bite to exhibit my failing attempt to transform into a champion minion.
When he came to chat, he noticed the unfinished food and gently reminded me how there were days he went hungry. I should have rolled my eyes for my own lean days.
‘One should not waste food,’ he said.
‘I don’t,’ I said, ‘I was going to parcel it home in a doggy bag.’
Hearing the word doggy, his well-behaved dog came over to inspect me.
He observed me. I petted her perfunctorily. Am a cat person. Stereotypical writer stuff — allergic to undesired petting and attention.
‘So, what have you done?’ he asked, sitting on a sort of empire-style bergere chair. Full marks for faux-ornate.
‘A novel, some writing for a series,’ I said nervously, dismissively.
‘Anything I might have seen?’ he asked.
‘No, not worthwhile.’
‘Are you interested in direction also?’
‘No, am not delusional.’
A moment passed. I might have displayed an errant repartee.
‘I mean, I can only write, or am trying to,’ I said. L’esprit de l’escalier.
He gave me a spiel on writing, how screenplay is an art not many understand, etc, et cetera.
I nodded to make his voice disappear.
‘What are you writing now?’
I showed him the cover of my new book, The Last Courtesan, featuring my mother, on my phone.
‘Oh, this is so fascinating,’ he said.
He spoke rapturously about Calcutta’s great food and colonial architecture when I mentioned growing up in Bowbazar kothas. If you watch any of his interviews now on YouTube you will realise he only speaks in raptures. He’s always explaining things like an impassioned conductor at a dime-store opera. It can exhaust the boorish audience immediately. He spoke about living in the Kamathipura area as a child when I said I had lived there. The mythmaker was interested in exoticising his own legend as an ‘outsider’.
‘But how will you work here if your mother is in Calcutta?’ he said, ‘I am a maa-ka-bhakt.’
Everything is about him or his mother. I have reached that stage too, though only by circumstances unavoidable.
‘Actually it was my mother who asked me to come here. I told her it would only work out if you understand that I will have to vacillate between the two cities initially. Jaise Sanjay ki Leela hai, waise meri Rekha.’
Corny dialogue, but worked. No one calls him by his first name, except perhaps his own mother. He is sir for everyone.
‘If I am speaking to you for so long means I like you,’ he said. ‘Otherwise, I would have asked you to leave long ago.’
Barely five minutes into the conversation, he asked me to return to his office and inform his team that I was going to be a part of his writer’s room.
I went back to his office and read a script. This is the part I cannot mention. His legal team sits in the adjacent room.
I flew to Calcutta and was to return after a week. I had to make arrangements for my mother’s tri-weekly dialysis sessions at a nearby hospital, figure out a tiffin-delivery service for her, find a house help (she sent four nurses scurrying in the past), all of which is a bit of a task in this retrograde city.
Remember the woman who had DM’d me about my tweets? She messaged. She had met SLB after my meeting. He said this about me: ‘What a wonderful find. That boy has so much potential and is talented. Most importantly, he is sensitive.’
I told her I’d get this engraved on my tombstone.
Like how he wants to take Alia Bhatt’s golchakkar in Dholida to his grave.
“It’s a shot that I will take to my grave. If there’s any shot that I want to be played when I breathe my last, it would be Alia doing that shot. It is the best thing I have seen an actor do in a very long, long time.”
I was only emulating the high priest of hyperbole in my tombstone comment. Perhaps I was regressing into a minion.
I had only managed a few tasks for mother when I was back in Bombay. It worried me that the old, frail woman with shaky limbs and slurred speech was trying to be brave to send me to work. I hadn’t worked since the pandemic; she was in and out of hospitals so frequently that I had surrendered the thought of getting another job ever again. Taking care of her was my full-time job.
The first day in his office was to chill in my new, aesthetically pleasing kurta I had shopped for in Gariahat. There was a security camera in every corner that was apparently accessible on his phone. My skin tingled with this information. Chilled. He was at home. Probably watching. That’s a great way to create a myth.
The next day, there were more minions on the lunch table in his first floor apartment. The magically appearing steamy and fragrant sheera was delicious. A minion deemed it the best sheera in the city. I nodded to make that statement evaporate.
A courier boy interrupted for a document signature. SLB flared at a spelling mistake in the document papers.
‘Go wash your face and come back,’ he yelled at the young man.
The minions at the table laughed nervously. I so wished I was wearing a mask to cover my surprise emoji face.
The minions on the table were writers and assistant directors.
‘Dastavez,’ SLB said, ‘would that be correct to use?’
‘Kaaghzaat,’ the minion replied.
‘Kaaghzaat is paper, dastavez is document,’ said the second minion.
‘You always mislead me,’ SLB sternly reprimanded the first minion. ‘Don’t ever do that again.’
Only that minion tried to laugh, offering an apology. He shut the minion down.
My mask, my mask emoji face.
A third minion was sulking in a corner before I arrived for the writing session. This minion had reportedly offered a script suggestion, which he disliked and barked down. I liked this minion the most. Relatable.
A faint noise of a person running or perhaps just a rumbling sound from somewhere outside interrupted the room. He looked up at the ceiling and said, ‘No one lives there. Am certain it is a ghost. I hear running sounds all the time. I have heard sounds of furniture being dragged.’
I wondered if he actually believed in half the things he uttered, or was he just saying it to create enigma about himself. Mythical thoughts certainly kept him preoccupied.
Reality bored him. SLB had nothing good to say about the ‘current plague’ of South Indian films upsetting the Bollywood cartel. He compared them to a circus. He wasn’t kind to the actors he had worked with in his last film. He cracked lame jokes about everyone and everything. The minions laughed and kept him busy. I chuckled a few times to blend in. The mythmaker revelled in his prophesies about the impending doom of charlatans with no aesthetics: just crass, commercial peddlers pimping art. It was all said to amuse and bemuse while he fussed over the yellow shade of fabric from several swatches.
When he left for his music session, the minions bitched him out, and how! All the horror stories I had heard over the years about his moods, behaviour, language and violent temper were true. How else will he create myth about himself as a maestro? The Glomar response. Let the plebs indulge in hearsay. I will neither confirm nor deny. The minions sang effigy songs in happy tunes, if I may stretch this part a bit like his penchant for high camp.
That night, when I went to my actor friend’s house, where I was temporarily staying, I said to him, ‘I don’t think I will last a week there.’
I was rattled by how he spoke to the courier boy and the minions, with no filter. Well, at least it was clear he had no tact, endearing as that might be of a ‘genius’ if one compromises with his erratic behaviour. The CEO of his company does it beautifully and advises to develop a ‘thick hide’ around him. Cows, essentially.
Verve
The words genius, great, master, maverick, were so loosely bandied by his office staff even in his absence that I was tempted to add auteur, if they could spell or pronounce it. They worked in perpetual fear of him turning up at any hour and checking on their tidiness. A minion whined she wasn’t dressed appropriately for his surprise visit. Once, he even cut pay for unscheduled leave, said another minion. A minion narrated a shot he copied from a photographer in Gangubai Kathiawadi. Another minion recounted how he made her cry on shoot by screaming at her for a silly mistake. Minions couldn’t leave the office till his evenings were scheduled. It was a well-paying job so long as they did not have to see ‘chacha’s’ face and only applaud his cinematic sorcery.
His office team would assign me desk-work and warn me not to inform him about it.
‘What am I supposed to say if he asks?’
‘Make up something,’ I was told.
‘Why should I?’
‘You will slowly understand,’ I was told.
His team of assistants would sneak around me. I didn’t know who was reporting what back to him. He would interrogate the management team. They would lash out at me for informing the assistants. The management wanted to control me a certain way because ‘sir’ does not need to know everything. It was quite a guessing game. He had created an ecosystem of complete chaos and loved the hubbub. New people were hired for him to use the ‘new energy’ to rekindle the ‘old energy’ that needed to be reminded it could be snuffed out and replaced. He thrived on confusion because it all boiled down to him to sort out the mess. He was the provider so long as the minions ingratiated and served their grand master.
One time he called me upstairs, what his CEO called the god’s chamber aka the Shahenshah’s durbar: his office on the seventh floor. Walls were lined with giant posters of his films. We minions sat on the fifth floor. I was of course by now a week old in the toady mill. On the seventh floor, production team members, set designer, director assistant, young people sat on the floor, armed with notebooks and laptops, alert and sugar-tongued. He sat on a throne and dictated each one about their duty. A masseur massaged his leg. He asked me what I thought of a script. I said it was lovely. He asked me to elaborate. I said I liked a character’s resolve. He denied it was written. I said that’s my interpretation. A minion promptly backed me.
‘What changes do you suggest?’ he asked.
‘We should sit on it collectively and decide,’ I said.
He mumbled something. My suggestion was dismissed. I was dismissed. I bowed out. A minion whispered to me, ‘We all walk on eggshells around him.’ I had to be a chicken in a coop I suppose.
Another time he dismissed my suggestion for a scene saying, ‘That’s not how art is made.’ I had referenced a scene from Bandit Queen to illustrate my point. Just like his entire oeuvre is homage to a classic. How else does he make his art?
Allow me to illustrate with a frame from his first film Khamoshi: The Musical. The second image is from Pakeezah.
Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam references Red Beard, Woh 7 Din.
Devdas references Pakeezah more than once.
Black references The Miracle Worker.
Saawariya references Pyaasa, Awaara.
Guzaarish references Whose Life Is It Anyway?
Goliyon Ki Raasleela: Ram-Leela references Franco Zeffirelli’s Romeo and Juliet, West Side Story.
Bajirao Mastani references Mughal-E-Azam.
Padmaavat references Mirch Masala.
Gangubai Kathiawadi, let’s give him the benefit of doubt is all his own, original artistry.
The American filmmaker Jim Jarmusch once meta quoted the French filmmaker Jean-Luc Godard when he said:
“Nothing is original. Steal from anywhere that resonates with inspiration or fuels your imagination. Devour old films, new films, music, books, paintings, photographs, poems, dreams, random conversations, architecture, bridges, street signs, trees, clouds, bodies of water, light and shadows. Select only things to steal from that speak directly to your soul. If you do this, your work (and theft) will be authentic. Authenticity is invaluable; originality is non-existent. And don’t bother concealing your thievery — celebrate it if you feel like it. In any case, always remember what Jean-Luc Godard said: “It’s not where you take things from — it’s where you take them to.”
SLB believes he takes art and betters it, removing the grubby coat of slime from the sublime, often not concerned with acknowledging the source. He is a master’s master, elevating it to an otherworldly experience, the creator of a mythoverse.
He asked me to rewrite a scene I didn’t agree with. He banged the script folders on the table like a petulant, little child. I watched his posture change into a frump. Tiger Shroff’s ‘Bacchi ho kya,’ dialogue comes to mind.
‘You are talking like those critics who find fault but don’t know how to write. They should write the film,’ he said.
That argument will never make sense to me but since I write movies now and not just about them, I rewrote the scene in half an hour and showed it to him. He found it rubbish.
I was not called to the writer’s room for a week.
His CEO said I should go to his house; hang around him, like the other assistants whose only purpose in life is to feed his ego. We are slaves to his vision, she said. She thought I was a better writer than the team he had assembled. ‘From whatever I read, only three lines of your work on social media, I could sense it,’ she said.
Either she was encouraging, or bluffing with a perfectly Zen face. From the hundreds of Ganesh idols stacked in her room, it was clear she wasn’t a reader. She was good at reading numbers, data, and stats. She would sense a sign if one of the metal idols sucked milk from a spoon on the day she enquired about box –office figures.
There was more than one right-wing hardliner in his office. Secular staff was invisible. A pretty minion in baby pink t-shirt, whose main grouse was that another minion called him a Barbie doll, said he was happy with the Modi government building roads in his home state Bihar. Another minion countered him by asking: What about the persecution of minorities by the same government? The pretty minion said he didn’t care for that. He was assisting ‘sir’ because he wanted to be an actor. Which lead me to wonder how many Muslim actors has this production worked with? Silly of me to think, right? Given that I myself don’t use my Muslim surname. I’ve now successfully planted a myth in your head. That’s how it works.
In the time that I was in Versova during my brief stint at Bhansali Productions, I met several people with their own SLB horror story. A producer said, ‘He is a difficult man but life changes for good after you work with him. Some people want to go through hell first. Life bann jaati hai.’ I didn’t understand why purgatory was necessary. Another former assistant said, ‘When you work with the worst (SLB) and the best (KJO), you are ready for the rest.’
A young woman gave him a thesis she wrote on his films. He asked her to write a book on her. She said she wanted to assist as a director. She never heard from him. A filmmaker said SLB was too friendly with another assistant, suggesting intimacy. A writer wasn’t given credit in a film.
Another writer was promised his script will be turned into a film but it never took off and now he feels his life has been ruined. A young filmmaker’s debut movie SLB produced was delayed, not promoted, and called ‘kachra’ to his face.
The young man said SLB is sexist, homophobe, classist, fat shamer, emotional abuser, and a body shamer. “He is a joyless pit of darkness where happiness goes to die. And those are the nicest words I can think of to describe him,” he said. Another filmmaker said a choreographer was in a relationship with SLB and wanted to marry him but he wouldn’t even touch her, a hotly discussed conversation amongst his minions.
Everything sounds hokum. A successful man is likely to upset a few. The few will talk. Their words may ring true through a gossamer veil of implausibility. Myths magnifying his persona.
There are too many myths about his personal life, aroused by his silence on the subject but all too obvious in his work. When people want to confirm with me, I am equally appalled at their lack of aesthetics. Like the great reader of curtains, Edgar Allan Poe, you only have to look at SLB’s use of billowy curtains in films to guess.

Above stanza, courtesy Poe, poem: The Raven.
Hope you get the drift, or draft, hawa ka jhonka! By the way, am digressing now, is the weirdly named character Sameer Rosselline in Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam the first mainstream Hindi film hero to pass wind? The ruffled curtains are first to be cautioned though.
Unlike most people willing to swallow their pride to work with SLB, few like the eponymous Gangubai character choose izzat. The house-help employed in my actor friend’s house was asked to work as a cook in his house. When she heard the whimsy, dessert-craving demands, she declined the offer. I identify with her no-nonsense style.
In November 2021, a filmmaker read a film script I wrote and said, ‘This is SLB territory. Only he can make it. It is the modern love-story he has been wanting to make for a long time.’
‘Are you sure?’ I asked, somewhat flattered but also bewildered.
‘Yes, we just have to change the setting from Calcutta-Bombay to Calcutta-New York. It is what he has been trying to crack. I’ll get him to read it.’
I never spoke to SLB about my script. I did not want to look like a schemer. I had only got a chance because of my mother’s story. I had come to write courtesan songs. Hindi films are recognised by their songs. His films have show tunes that live on long after the sequins and mirrors reflect a decadent style. He employs the old-fashioned method of making Hindi films, which is to stitch scenes around a song, not the other way round. And when you glean your references from the best of classical melodies, how can you falter?
My own SLB story is that after watching Saawariya in 2007, I wrote a few songs, moved to Bombay, lived in Versova, close to Magnum Opus, and hoped to meet him, but made no effort even though I came in close contact with people who worked directly with him. I never requested for a meeting. Over the years, I too had heard a few horror stories about him. I only believe in what I see. I waited when he would call for me, my work would have to speak for itself.
A day before Good Friday, his CEO sat me down and said it’s not working out.
There’s a mythical story of how Lata Mangeshkar was on her way to record a song for SLB but the heavens poured and she had to turn her car back. A typical SLB frame of hope and hopelessness.
Never work with your idols. You’ll have a better story to imagine and create myths.
I was so relieved to leave. I hadn’t got a moment to read, or write, let alone think since I got here. Why I wanted to work with SLB was to not believe in hearsay. I will either confirm or deny.
‘Great,’ I said, ‘everyone deserves an off on Good Friday.’
The office was unsure about public holidays. SLB’s mood dictated the calendar.
Before returning to Calcutta, I met a friend entrenched in the film business.
When she heard of the fiasco, she said, ‘I’ve heard he is very anal, is he?’
The vibrator jokes never stop.

Hi I am a 24F 5'4, 140 lbs, and live in USA. No existing medical issues, no smoking or recreational drugs.
I have been having fevers off and on for the past 10 days with the highest getting to 101 as well as night sweats and one swollen lymph node on my left cervical neck. COVID, Flu, RSV, and Mono negative. Should I be concerned? I am also so fatigued I have trouble finishing a shift at work.

Data-Miner Gego stared at the results of the analysis, still in disbelief that this wild theory had borne fruit and stood up to scrutiny again and again. But now, here before him in data as clear as even the youngest apprentice could see, was evidence, clear and unshakable:
Humans were not what they promised themselves to be.
Feeling slightly nauseous with anxiety, he keyed in a request to meet with the diplomat’s office as soon as possible.
As the diplomat looked over his latest treaty proposal, there was a faint sound of horns in harmonious blaring, signifying someone had requested permission to enter. Glad for any distraction from the monotonous paperwork, he activated the intercom, saying “You are recognized and accepted. Please enter.”
As the crouched and scrabbling shape stepped into the doorway, diplomat Hale-he mused again how interesting it would be if the if their ancestors could have heard such a magnificent call for a mere diplomat. Previously, such a grand instrumentation would have been reserved for a high chieftain or king, and yet here was Hale-he, a diplomat to be sure, but certainly no ruler of any stripe, heralded by a song that would bring envy even to high lords and minor rulers in ages past.
The individual sat before him, and Hale-he could tell by their coloration and the shape of their antenna they were a scientist or engineer, someone likely far more familiar with numbers than he was. Hale-he, while now taking on the rich purple hues of a diplomat, had the underlying color of brilliant crimson, a mark of his near-decade of study as a historical scholar and graduate before his appointment into diplomacy.
“What do you have for me? Gego, I believe?”
The other individual nodded, crossing his pinchers in a sign of deference and respect. “I am sorry to disturb your appointment, but I have important information regarding humans.”
“Ah yes, humans,” said Hale-he, feeling a degree of relaxation and comfort at the mention of the gregarious and affable people.
Humans had taken quite some time in venturing out to the stars, but their planet was located such that a number of major trade routes passed quite near to their system. Several species had reported contact with them before humans had in turn reached out and started to make contact of their own. But from all reports, they were kind, clever, and selfless to a fault, with no recent instances of conflict despite a very violent early history. They were renowned for having an impeccable record of interspecies relations.
“I'm actually in the process of framing a new trade treaty with some of their inner-system human colonies. I believe the primary planet in question is called Mars, but they also have gas refineries and extractors above their gas giants, and several mining operations set up on a number of moons and their asteroid belt.”
“Yes, I have seen the newscast about how much this treaty is expected to aid both species,” said Gego. There was an odd note of apprehension Hale-he could detect in their chittering voice. “There is some invaluable context that I believe needs to be put to light.”
“Context? What do you mean, ‘context?’”
“Well, you are aware that we, the Civicor, first met humanity when a trade ship fell off course and crashed upon Earth?”
“It is a well-known accident. Some manner of navigational mishap; Thankfully, our propulsion systems are far more accurate today.”
“This is true, but are you also aware the Bayons have a remarkably-similar story related to their first contact with humanity as well? A military scout vessel, intending to regroup with the bulk of their fleet and engaging the Dendite menace, and they were likewise drawn off course, spiraling to crash onto Earth as well.”
“I remember the stories that time hypothesized that it was Dendite sabotage, even though it was unlikely for such a minor and inconsequential vessel,” said Hale-he. “Other than that, I’m unfortunately not familiar with their own reports on it.”
“But our two species are but a few from over a dozen first-contact reports with humanity. All stemming from engine failures, navigation failures, and crashes or forced landings of ships that lost control and arrived on Earth.”
“Well,” said the diplomat, starting to see the shape of the data-miner’s point, “Warpspace travel.has always been an inexact science at times, and was even less accurate decades ago. It's possible you are reading too much into a handful of coincidences.”
The data-miner rubbed their eyestalks, feeling exhaustion creeping in for how much frantic effort they had put in over the past three-day cycle. “Yes, but to borrow an idiom for the humans, ‘Once is happenstance, twice is coincidence, but three times is a pattern,’ let alone a solid dozen instances within barely a fifty-year timespan. Even the most heavily-trafficked routes past the most dense or erratic planetoids have only achieved a third of that number.”
“You're asking me to disrupt peaceful and productive diplomatic ties with humans by suggesting they were responsible for these instances. Are you truly suggesting that this was intentional from humanity's part?”
“I am.”
“That may be, but we will require more proof than mere happenstance, unlikely though it may be.”
“I have additional data as well.” Gego was the most proud of this next part, and he carefully pulled up the diagrams and charting maps. A vibrant animation appeared onscreen of what appeared to be a rainbow-colored and spiked disc, surging and shaking on the screen. “This is the analysis of the gravitational field irregularities within a quarter of a solar year of Earth's primary star.”
The diplomat looked nonplussed at the diagram. “I would assume the fluctuations here are not ideal?”
“No indeed. They could be likened to a reef within a shallow sea, permitting transit in the calm regions but damaging and disrupting ships passing through a rough space. I have reached out to several of the shipping guilds for more details, but initial reports back support this theory, with several commenting that the route passing near to Earth is highly undesirable amongst experienced pilots due to the rough effects it has on engine stability and wear and tear.”
The diplomat looked over the diagram further before attempting to wave it away dismissively. “But who’s to say that this isn't a natural phenomena of Earth’s system? There are many regions of space that are disruptive or dangerous to travel through in warpspace, so what would make Earth's patch of turbulence unique?”
“The fact that they can turn it on and off at will.”
The diplomat coughed violently as the surprise dislodged the piece of fruit pulp he was eating out of his primary digestion sack and instead into the top of his gas exchange organ. “What in the three spheres do you mean they can turn it off?”
Gego grimaced this time as he keyed in some commands to the report. This time the disc figure that was pulled was much grainier and blocky, fine measurements now showing as wide swaths. “This was reverse-calculated from a series of gravimetric scans done across that entire arm of the galaxy.”
Even with the poor resolution, the diplomat could still see that this was a wildly chaotic and dangerous gravitational field. “It looks the same.”
The data-miner nodded. “Yes, but watch here: It's hard to tell, but this readout is actually playing in reverse, stepping backwards through time. We're about to hit 76 years ago.”
“What's so important about 76-” The diplomat cut off, words caught like fruit pulp in his throat as the image abruptly stilled. The disc depicting the gravitational field was now still and smooth as a windless pond.
“So it just started one day?”
“Indeed, Diplomat Hale-he. And furthermore, this beginning of the turbulence was a mere month before the first vessel lost controlI and was forced to make an emergency landing on Earth.”
The possibilities were rapidly narrowing, but Hale-he was still in favor of exploring whatever possible shred he could find to avoid confronting the dawning reality about humans.
“Well, while things of this nature are highly irregular, I presume, I'm still not convinced that this shows they can activate it at will.”
“I know, Gego said, “Which is why I wanted to show you that data before I show you this.”
The gravitational field display became the ragged tumultuous ocean of currents and surges, and this time in the higher detail that told Hale-he this was more recent readings. “I'm sure you saw the announcements a fortnight ago that humanity had tested their first faster than light engine they had made themselves, rather than trading for, and successfully made a jaunt out to the furthest planetoid in their star system and back without incident?”
“Yes?” the diplomat said cautiously.
“I received this data from a colleague, who was concerned there may have been an instrument malfunction to produce such data as I’m about to show you. She checked and validated it herself. It was fully accurate and reliable, which makes it all the more troubling. I don't think she realized the cause of what she was seeing, but unfortunately the timing of it adds up too perfectly.”
The data-miner continued quietly recalling “I believe at this point we're at 30 seconds to launch the human’s test flight.”
Hale-he let out an involuntary gasp of breath as the gravity field abruptly stilled again, perfectly smooth simultaneously across the entire spread of it.
Grimly, the data-miner said “Here we had the jump,” and after a short pause continued “-and the return.” A few seconds later and the field abruptly resumed its turbulence.
The diplomat was still in shock, staring at the gravimetric readout, when Gego said “That's also not the most concerning part, either. This was supposed to be humanity's first faster-than-light capability of their own they were testing here; Isn't that right?”
“Well of course,” replied Hale-he. “It was on all the new stations. A great achievement for a species that had been slow to achieve that milestone.”
“I would remind you then that the readout here is half a light-year in diameter.”
The diplomat scrunched his eyestalks in confused concentration, trying to understand what the other alien was implying, when suddenly it hit him. “Yet they were able to disrupt such a large region simultaneously, and stop it equally quickly?”
Gego nodded. “Whatever means they have at causing such a disruption is certainly faster-than-light, and immensely wide-ranging. If it was slower and confined to a small area, I might have some theories as to how it could be accomplished, but this size, this scale and the speed? I have no idea. It is beyond anything our sciences and technology can produce, or that of any other known species.”
The diplomat sat back, stunned. “By the Spheres.” He glanced up at Gego. “What do you propose we do with this information?”
The data-miner waved an arm. “Perhaps we can get to the bottom of this: Go to humanity with the information we have. Tell them we want the secrets of this technology and the power sources that feed it, as it far eclipses anything we can currently achieve. Tell them that we will expose these findings to the rest of the space-faring civilizations of the galaxy if they continue to hold back.”
The diplomat’s eyes widened, before after a long moment he said “I see. Well, I still need to get to my duties and figure out how to handle this. You are excused, and a reminder to keep the strictly confidential while I inform the appropriate other parties.”
Gego bowed in deference before leaving the office. After he left, Hale-he leaned back in his saddle chair and groaned. The idiot had uncovered humanity possessed the capability of affecting a wide chunk of space at a power and complexity unheard of among any other known species, and his first suggestion was to blackmail them? The diplomat rubbed his head trying to make the sudden headache go away.
A few thoughts were coming to mind, snippets that had been dismissed in the moment, but now he couldn't shake them as he was reminded of the first species that had ever encountered humanity, and the comments by their scientists. They had said that humans were curiously disinterested in their warpspace drivers, despite not having faster-than-light capabilities already.
Then the second species that encountered humanity had mentioned that a child of one of the diplomatic party had become separated from the group, and accidentally come in contact with and ingested some Earth flora. It wasn't something toxic or dangerous to humans, but the physiological makeup of that species reacted poorly with alkaloids in the flora and would have resulted in a swift and painful death if left untreated. But instead, the humans had administered a series of emetics and alkaloid-binding treatments, something they said was common in the case of an accidental poison ingestion, The diplomat remembered reading a footnote from the inhuman physician at the time that this particular blend of neutralizing agents was not something commonly found in human medical kits, and in fact was uniquely suited to their own species’ biology.
Both had been written off as flukes, interesting anecdotes at most, but now the diplomat began to see the greater shape of it, as a species that cared not for faster-than-light travel, for they'd doubtless already achieved it, mastered it, and discarded it as uninteresting at some point before. A species, who upon supposed first contact, had comprehensive medical and anatomical knowledge of their guests sufficient enough to save a child in mere minutes from otherwise certain death.
All this from a species that had befriended and gregariously hosted every alien ship that had come astray upon their planet, and offered nothing but support and friendship to both waylaid travelers and their subsequent diplomatic summits, despite seeming to lack the ability to travel outside of their own star system. A species that was confident, at a basal level that Hale-he was only just now beginning to truly understand.
He opened a communications missive, addressed to all the other diplomats of similar station amongst the other species humanity had made contact with.
”Greetings to my fellow ambassadors. * *I come bearing difficult news regarding humanity: * *They are not what they appear to be. * *Yet, I believe it is of the utmost importance that we continue to pretend that they are, * *For fear that otherwise, we will learn who, or what, they truly are…”
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Yes, these two things are somewhat related but not completely linked to each other. It also helps to keep in mind our supervisor is always around so he can hear whatever we listen to.
I can't name names because I am still employed and it's against our rules to say what might be deemed negative on solical media. However, it's a small one and it has a lot of the mismanagement and pseudo feudalism of any company like this. And they have only gotten worse since I got hired a few months ago. When it began, we were suing a paper system that relied on us to pull products by hand and mark it all down on the order sheets. It was more work but it was manageable. They had at the time promised to upgrade the system to digital and that this would make things easier and simpler for everyone. We prepared for the day and hoped it would work.
We started actually using it about a month ago. It shit the bed from day one and has only continued to roll around in the brown sheets as all the employees are forced to watch. Nothing works like it should, the system is a decade old and used software from 2014 as per the liscense information, only a handful of people having access to important features and there's no way to use it if that person is not there, and we are constantly fixing mistakes thanks to no longer having the system that had rules in place to make it easier for quality control. And everyday, a new problem arises and adds to the horrible way things are run. Like wrapping up products for shipment, only to have it unwrapped, "fixed", and put away until we have to repeat the process several more times before shipping out.
And thanks to it being ten hours a day and a night shift, the stress is not only making me want to do illegal things, I'm so deficient in some nutrients that my doctor (when I could get one after two months waiting for insurance) said I needed a special pill regimen to fix what caused me extreme fatigue, dizziness, skeletal pain, and fevers. All from dealing with the stress and overwork, and being unable to recover from the work week. And I'm not the only one. Like the other week when we had sixty hours and one day off. I didn't leave my bed for two days and no one was surprised or worried, it was almost expected.
Now we had QR codes that didn't work for the customers to check products in case of recalls, and we were told it would take all night to fix (it's still being fixed today by worker they brought from another plant). My coworkers and I were rightfully pissed and one threatened to send in their two weeks to the supervisor to his face. He just laughed, they did not. Talked to them after and both agreed to quit if the issue was that severe. This had several of my coworkers soon after beginning to blast RATM on the speakers because they got in a "fuck it" mood. I don't think the supervisor got the hint...

Steel shod hooves clacked along the cobblestones, to the cheers of the common folk. The kights were ridding out.
You were with them. Not an actual knight, just a squire in service to them. But still you rode along to help with whatever menial tasks they needed. But you were one of the lucky ones, one that actually had a chance of becoming a knight someday.
"Someday" you think as you switch from cobbles to mud. Following behind the large party of horses, mud flinging up on your armor
The proud lords lead on, banners and ponytails flapping in the wind as you and the other squires follow in their wake. Drapped in their colors and heavy supply packs you all plod along in the muddy tracks from the horses
The lords crest the hill, pausing and many of them motioning for squires to bring binoculars forward. Your knight, the leader of the party and the order, does so as well. You scramble up to his side, he snatches them from your hands.
Sighing and pulling your own gifted spyglass out you look ahead, seeing a part of dark green armor clad figures on the hill in front of you. Banners waving in the wind, one of peace declaring their intentions
The knights turn to each other, debating what to do as the squires also discuss what to do with each other.
"Recon we'll go talk to em?" A green and black clad squire asks
"Nah, bet we'll charge straight into them. Could be some sort of trick" a red and yellow clad says while leaning on his sword
"What do you think? You've got the best training out of all of us" a squire calls to you "being the leaders chosen and all"
Pondering the question and measuring your response "I think we'll hear them out, doesn't seem like a trick so far" the other squires nodding in agreement
"I say we bloody well charge!" Comes from behind you. The red and yellow clad knight waving his Lance around as the rest of the knights squabble
Your knight watches them bicker. It's evident he's thinking hard on his flushed face "bet that's from the party last night" you recall grimly all the cleaning you still have to do after this excursion
Calling the other knights to order her gives his plan "let's go and talk to them, see what there up to". He wheels his horse around as the knights push forward and the squires struggle to keep up
Their delegation moves forwards. Seeing yours advance, making way to meet on top of the small hill between you
As you advance it becomes easier and easier to keep pace and eventually out pace the knights as the full scale of the warriors comes into play, most standing just shy of the knights on horseback and their leader
"God's above" you think seeing the armor clad woman standing taller then anyone in either group, easily a head taller over even your knight's raised saddle
The knights mill about on their horses, none wanting to approach the warriors, recognizing that they might for once not have the best equipment from the old vaults. Suddenly you feel a tapping on your back. You turn seeing your knight pull himself back into the saddle, his kick unbalancing him
"Go forth and talk to them in my stead" he orders, the other knights echoing his orders "sue for peace if they recognize our might, if not then wait for our charge"
Pushed ahead you drop your pack off and take hold of your weapons. A force sword and laser pistol, relics gratuitously given to you, setting forward the other squires follow
"Hail warriors" her voice is softer then you might think, Suddenly you remember your mother's stories of love at first sight "I take it your masters aren't coming" a hint of disappointment in her voice
"They aren't madam" you say with a half bow. "They sent us ahead to negotiate" you don't have to follow her eyes to see the knights nervously milling behind you, disapproval in her eyes
"I see" a measured response. "Then I'll say to you, I am El'Leonore Johnson, primarch of the Dark Angels Space marine legion, of the Imperium of Mankind. We have come to reclaim you into the fold of humanity" the speech comes with practiced ease, her voice delebretly loud enough to carry to the knights behind you.
Angry murmuring coming from the knights behind you. You sweat, seeing the armorments and knowing you stand no chance. And knowing the knights behind you not willing to give up their power. She looks at you, it seems she has some measure of what is going through your head, her voice comes soft enough for you to hear "you can seek safety with us squire" her voice sending shivers down your spine "we will protect you"
Yelling comes before you can deliver your answer. Yelling from the base of the hill you see a war party st the base of the Hill, Yelling their warcries they wait st the bottom of the hill. Turning to the squires you call out your orders "Wait here, I dont like that they revealed themselves st the base of the hill knowing we have horse" Another yell comes from the knights as they ready a charge
"Fools" comes from from woman behind you
You watch the awe inspiring charge of your knights. Trained for this purpose and relishing in the perfect conditions of the charge the thundering hooves and flashing of steel draws closer and closer
Only to go disastrously. Several horses flip, hit by unseen Spears and caltrops hidden in place. Some of the later knights wheel their horses in time to avoide the trap only to get cut down by the counter charge heading up to your position
"Into a square" you call seeing their numbers "form up into defensive we'll wear them out" squires galvanized into action by the shouted commands. Waiting for the charge to hit
Only for it to never land
Green blurs past you as the figures rush into combat, slaughtering the forces with roaring swords and screaming guns. She walks beside you "impressive are they not? My sons" she waves at the slaughter before you "just an honor guard, my legion is scattered among the stars"
As the figures figures come to a stop you see none of the ambushing party survived. Though a familiar figure did
Your knight storms his way up the hill, mud covering the bright colors of his armor and stuck in his long ponytail. He comes up directly to you and slaps you in the face "how dare you don't charge in to help us" spittle flying onto you "you left us alone going into that, how dare you..." his voice cuts off as his arm refuses to fly forward
She's standing behind him. A look of disgust on her face. "He was correct, it was an trap. Why would they give their position away at the bottom of the hill knowing you have the charge advantage?" Her quick tactical assessment seems to slap him across the face "and you seemed eager to send them in against a superior force but lead the charge against a weaker, it is undeserving of a leader"
He turns pulling his arm away from her "I am rightful lord by right" he blusters "and if you dont like it to bad. I will remain untill my death and you will never take us" he finishes dramatically turning away
Only for her sword to swing out and cut through his armor. He falls without a word, only his armor clanking to the ground, as she turns to you
"I trust that you would take over in succession" answered by your wordless nod "good" she takes his sword out of its sheath and offers it to you "then I give you his title and ask you to join us" taking the sword you look up at her sinking to one knee
The words you swore so long ago coming back to you "I do pledge my sword to you my lady, to carry your burden and assist you in your needs. On my honor do I swear this untill you see fit to grant me the honor of stand with you as an equal" the words ring out as you stand and move forward, freezing as muttering comes from the other squires
"Is their a problem?" She asks a confused look on her face. You rub the back of your head nervously. "Tradition states that the squire is to braid the hair of their knight upon swearing in" comes from the crowd. You turn with a blush looking for who called that out
"Ah, I see" she turns and sits on the ground, gesturing for one of her sons to bring something to stand on "I see no reason to disregard tradition then"
You nervously start braiding her hair, feeling the silky soft hair part and braid under your fingers. Dillagently following the steps you learned so long ago you soon have her hair in a long braid curing around her neck and running down her front. Steaping around her you take your new blade and hold the polished surface for her to glance upon. A faint smile touching her lips, seeming to grow as she notices your blush
"Then let us be off lord" she addresses you, rising to head back to the capitol "im certian they have a feast ready for them" she points at the armored lump in the grass
///// later that night /////
The feasting has long sense started, and will continue on till the morning. The squires finally happy to become knights of their own and the populace rejoicing, knowing your better then your former master.
You see a shuttle come fly down. And she heading towards it. Grabbing your back you rush down, just as the door is closing you call out "wait"
The ramp finishes closing, only to slowly unwind as she steps out expectantly "what seems to be the problem? You are lord of this land and advisors will come down tomorrow to set the world ready for Imperial tithes, yoy can relax and enjoy your position" she says crossing her arms
"I swore the oath of a squire" nerves creping into your voice "I can't lead, not until I can stand equal to my knight" you awkwardly point towards her as she realizes what had happened
She sighs as she pinches her nose. "I trust then you have someone to lead?" A nod confirms "good, then how long for you to pack?" You shrug your bag into view "very well, let us be off then" she turns waving you into the shuttle, showing you how to buckle in
As you take off you look over to your new knight. You notice her hair is still in the same braid you gave her earlier
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Let me start by saying this is okay for use on the pod and shout out to Jesse I hope youv’e been enjoying my photoshop edits.
Let me start this story with some backstory, back in 2011 we had some major family drama between my moms family and her sisters/my aunts family that I don’t really wanna get into on here. Needless to say once the drama was settled both families never saw really eachother again. My mom’s sistemy aunt who’s family we had the drama with sadly passed away last year due to lung cancer and her and my mom never made up. my moms other sister my auntie EM ((that’s not her real name that’s just her nickname she asked us to call her cause she loves the wizard of OZ)) that lives in Washington who was a neutral party in the family drama was gifted my aunts dining room table when she came out for the service ((which mom was made clear she was not invited to)) Unsure of how to get it back to Washington my Auntie EM decided to leave it at our house and we switched it with our dining room table for now. Ever since we got this table in our house I’ve felt uncomfortable I’m pretty sure my deceased aunt is haunting us, within the first few days of having it I experienced objects moving on their own. I was setting up my computer in my basement and left my computer and put the charging cord down on top of my computer to go do something else for just a second I never left tand when I came back the cord was wrapped around a chair on the other side of the room from where I put it down, I never left the basement I was gone for a sec so if SOMONE came down and moved it I would have heard them. Other than that the only other bizzare thing to happen was one night I had an extremely vivid nightmare where I was lying in bed I couldn’t move and my bed sheets were attacking me after a few seconds I could move and I put my head on my pillow as I heard running sounds before being jumpscared by the face of my dead aunts zombified corpse after which I woke up in a cold sweat. Mostly I’ve been experiencing your normal haunting shenanigans hearing the front door open and close when I’m home alone calling out to see if anyone’s there and having no response and the feeling of being watched.
Anyway that’s all I hope you guys have a chill day.

TL;DR: My friend insisted she was too sick to see me during the 4 days we went specifically to visit her, but it sounded like an excuse.
I've been friends with L for decades. We've been what I had considered best friends. Our friendship has had some ups and downs, but nothing too major. When I got married several years ago, I moved to a different country. But I still visit my family and my friends once a year and we keep in touch via text and video calls (about 4 a year). The visits and video calls all have to be organized by me, btw.
I am a forgiving person, so when she did not come to my wedding and, more importantly, did not even try, I forgave her because I understood it would've been a major expense to travel and pay for the travel documents for it. When some years later I offered to pay for her and her new husband's tickets to come visit me if they got the travel documents, she never said no but never said yes. But she never tried to get the documents. I still cut her some slack.
Recently L moved to a different, neighboring, country and she's now 4 and a half hrs away by car. I visited her last year in her new hometown, then a second time we met up with her halfway (on her side of the border), and this visit was going to be my third time seeing her in this new country.
The first time I visited I went for just a couple of days and it was just me. Her mother-in-law was visiting as well at the time, so her husband was busy with work and entertaining his mom. My friend and I had a great time going everywhere just the two of us. The second visit when we met halfway, was very quick, just a few hours because she and her husband had to catch a ferry back. I know she'll never come to visit me because it would require her to get the travel documents she has never once tried to get (even though she now has a permanent residency card for the new country, which would make it easier to get documents to visit me).
This time I drove up with my husband to visit her. We took time off from work to make sure we had plenty of time to sightsee and visit, and we paid for 3 nights at a hotel. My friend and I planned a lot of activities together. We had started planning a couple of months before the trip. I was thrilled and incredibly excited. It had been YEARS since I spent my birthday with friends. It really meant a lot to me. We were to drive up on day 1, see her on her own while her husband was working on day 2, go out all of us together on day 3, and have more fun together before we headed back in the afternoon of day 4.
Day 1 as we were driving slowly making our way to where she lives, she told me she and her husband were feeling a little sick, but that they were taking some Tylenol to make sure they were better by day 2 (when the bulk of the activities we planned together that did not include her husband was going to happen). I told her to rest well and feel better.
By day 2 she said she was still feeling sick, with a temperature of 37.2ºC/99ºF (which is still considered within normal range FYI) and sniffles, cough, and watery eyes, and she didn't think she could join us. I was very, very disappointed, but I thought it might be better if she rested. We switched around the plans for day 3 so we could at least have lunch together.
Day 3 she was feeling better but didn't feel 100% and preferred if we saw each other for lunch on day 4, the day we were going to go back. I told her lunch had to be at 1 pm so we could get going around 2 pm. I asked if there was any way to see each other before lunch as well since I had come all the way to see her after all. A lot of back and forth ensued where we planned to meet at 10:30 am because her husband had an online event earlier, but we could watch them have breakfast (I declined to have breakfast at that time given that we were eating lunch at 1pm), then chit chat and have lunch at 1 pm.
Day 4 she sent a message that she had a "fever" of 37ºC/98.6ºF and wasn't feeling well (again that is an even more perfectly normal body temperature). And she had the flu and didn't want to get us sick. She also said that the weather was rainy and bad and didn't want to get worse by going out in that weather (the day was sunny and clear). She sounded proud that she was telling me early enough that we could still get some sightseeing done. I was devastated to say the least. I took a while to reply thinking of all the things I could say, but I finally decided that if she just didn't want to see me I was not going to beg or point out the inconsistencies. I replied with the equivalent of an "Ok I guess". When she saw that, she sent a message about how she was going back to bed and how she "might" feel better if we wanted to stop by on our way out of town around 1 pm so we could say hi across the lobby while wearing masks. At that point, my husband and I had decided to just go home early because I was devastated and doubted she would see us. A couple of hours later, she tried calling, and sent tons of texts, again explaining that she had been sick with a fever and that the doctor had at some point (she did not see a doctor at this time) told her that she's contagious if she's coughing. And no, she was not going to be able to see us for the couple of minutes she had hinted at. I proceeded to ignore her messages as I was very upset and we were already driving back anyway.
The next day (my actual birthday), she sent a text in our group chat about how she was so sad she had been sick after all that planning, but happy birthday.
I don't know what to think. Was she avoiding me? Was she truly sick? If so, why tell me the not-really-fever temperatures? Is it bad depression? Was she having trouble with her husband and this was a way to cover for it? I kept telling her we could do anything she wanted, we didn't have to sightsee or go anywhere. She never suggested meeting at an open area to chat and not worry about being contagious until the very end. I am so hurt and upset, but part of me is wondering if this is one big cry for help. If it is, how can I help her? Do I tell her to go to therapy? That is a big taboo in our culture, so I don't even know how to suggest it. What if she really thought she was sick? Will hinting that maybe she had something else going on insult her? How do I move past this? She broke my heart a little.
We've grown apart geographically and in our beliefs/interests as we got older and we both changed and got married, but neither of us has that many friends so we remained best friends by default. Do I just give up on the decades of friendship because she couldn't be bothered to see me during the trip?