Ramipril good for gout

I have

2024.05.07 22:13 Obvious_Nature_9583 I have

.Get it together samson
.Samba yo pran pale and me remix
.All i got adam port
Virgil instrumental
.Passion fruit remix
.A keeper mont rouge edit
.Can soleil drake
.A keeper drake keinemusik
.Drake one dance darren remix
.Drake calling my name remix
.Gypsy woman other released
.Adam ten oxytocin
.Adam ten magic citcus
.Anchor point aneme
.Amana vision
.Route 94 alex wann
.7 seconds del capo
.Amor amor alex twin
.&me homelands
.Belsunce
.All i got
.Les gouts kodd remix
.One dance denis desero remix
.One dance Deni remix
.Adventure of muye remix
.Little things mattia antonazzo
.Relax my eyes velvet remix
.Waiting for tonight afromix
.The color violet remix
.Sweet disposition vxsion remix
.Famax jerak remix
.daughter of the sun
.minha preca soldera
.Father stretch
.Queimar
.Ah ya albi
.Ray of sun
.Kilosa
.Salma ya salama maurra remix
.Slaves and me remix
.Terra de saudade
.True story liva K
.Montrouge kilosa
.Sebastien leger id supporter by keinemusik
submitted by Obvious_Nature_9583 to AfroHouseUnreleased [link] [comments]

2024.05.07 22:13 Obvious_Nature_9583 I have

.Get it together samson
.Samba yo pran pale and me remix
.All i got adam port
Virgil instrumental
.Passion fruit remix
.A keeper mont rouge edit
.Can soleil drake
.A keeper drake keinemusik
.Drake one dance darren remix
.Drake calling my name remix
.Gypsy woman other released
.Adam ten oxytocin
.Adam ten magic citcus
.Anchor point aneme
.Amana vision
.Route 94 alex wann
.7 seconds del capo
.Amor amor alex twin
.&me homelands
.Belsunce
.All i got
.Les gouts kodd remix
.One dance denis desero remix
.One dance Deni remix
.Adventure of muye remix
.Little things mattia antonazzo
.Relax my eyes velvet remix
.Waiting for tonight afromix
.The color violet remix
.Sweet disposition vxsion remix
.Famax jerak remix
.daughter of the sun
.minha preca soldera
.Father stretch
.Queimar
.Ah ya albi
.Ray of sun
.Kilosa
.Salma ya salama maurra remix
.Slaves and me remix
.Terra de saudade
.True story liva K
.Montrouge kilosa
.Sebastien leger id supporter by keinemusik
submitted by Obvious_Nature_9583 to unreleasedIDdeephouse [link] [comments]

2024.05.07 15:51 FromTheLandOfLizards Had first attack, UA levels are not high. What to make of that?

Hi all. I had my first gout attack this past weekend, and have been trying to learn as much as I can about this crappy disease. I went to the ER for the foot pain I was having, and they diagnosed it as gout, prescribed 800mg ibuprofen and sent me on my way. While I was there, they did blood labs and found my uric acid levels were 6.0 mg/dL, which I believe is below the danger zone.
I'm a 6'2" 43M, currently at 225 lbs. Have always been a big consumer of red meat and beer. These days, I'm a "1-2 beers a night" kind of guy, where in the past I was a heavier drinker, a heavier person, and just generally less healthy than I am now. I've always had good blood chemistry results, and my Dr has even told me that my kidneys seem very healthy.
Trying to make sense of this attack and my normal UA levels. Does anyone else have this experience? Is it possible that the higher indulgence in my past was building up those crystals in my joints, and they laid in wait for this attack?
If my UA levels continue to be normal, would reducing my purine intake do anything to help future attacks?
I know there are a lot of questions here, and they may not have definite answers. Just looking to see if anyone else is in this boat, and what the group thinking seems to be on this.
Thanks. Gout sucks.
submitted by FromTheLandOfLizards to gout [link] [comments]

2024.05.07 03:17 bubblylynnn Meal plan for someone with gout?

My grandma apparently just got diagnosed with gout, which I’ve never heard of until she told me and I did my research. I’m thinking of making her a meal plan but the dietary restrictions are pretty heavy and she’s a picky eater to begin with so I’m having a hard time. She doesn’t eat and red meats besides beef, but the doctor told her to stay away from any red meat for the time being. She eats only “white flesh” fish, so no salmon or tuna… and she was also told to stay away from foods high in fat content. BUT I also read online that high omega 3 fish is good for gout patients, which is contradictory and quite confusing to work with. She’s eating fruits and vegetables when she can and I told her to boil some potatoes and eggs to snack on. She’s very thin and I’m worried her weight is going to drop even further.. Any advice would be much appreciated :)
submitted by bubblylynnn to foodhacks [link] [comments]

2024.05.06 13:15 Ok-Cryptographer1302 High LDL & HDL early 30’s

Hey, just a little confused by my recent blood work! I don’t have a history of high cholesterol (although a year ago my triglycerides were high… I had been eating a tbsp of coconut oil a day and just stopped doing that lol) but my recent blood work had LDL 109 HDL 96 total 228… triglycerides were fine this time at 117.
I haven’t been exercising as much lately, though I walk a couple miles most days, and my bmi has been right on the cusp of overweight for years even when working out 5-6 days a week. I do have a family history of heart problems- an uncle died at 44 from a blocked ventricle, another uncle died at 56 after a few strokes and stints while in hospital for gout in leg. Third of 5 uncles died around 58 but not sure the cause; living 2 uncles have cardial pulmonary disease and regurgitating valve/half heart enlarged. Grandparents had diabetes and mom has recently diagnosed high cholesterol and low blood pressure but she’s smoked cigs her whole life and I have avoided tobacco. I drink more than I should but rarely more than 3-4 drinks per week total accommodating for serving size.
I am vegetarian and eat fairly well but cutting back on full fat dairy and switching to whole grain pasta and tortillas just in case.
I guess my question is, what would cause both good and bad cholesterol to be high, and if my ratio is low, does that mean I should ignore the actual numbers being high?
submitted by Ok-Cryptographer1302 to Cholesterol [link] [comments]

2024.05.06 04:06 itsthatbradguy Lingering Pain from First Gout Flare

Hi, everyone. Hoping to see if what I'm experiencing is common and/or cause for concern.
A little background: Had my first and so far only gout flare at the base of my right big toe back on February 28. Got diagnosed via virtual visit, they prescribed a 10-day course of prednisone (miracle drug!) and that knocked it out in no time. Went to my regular doctor a couple of weeks later to confirm the diagnosis, got a uric acid test (8.2) and he gave me a prescription of colchicine to keep on hand in case of emergency. He didn't recommend any daily medications since I have only had one flare and seemed to understand the necessity of dietary changes (I've cut out red meat and sodas/sugary drinks, still have some alcohol though).
My concern is I'm about 10 weeks removed from the flare, but I still will get some pain and discomfort in that toe every so often, especially if I've been on my feet a good bit. Nothing compared to a flare. I'm talking like a 1-3/10 of pain instead of an 8-9/10. I have flat feet so I'm kind of prone to aches & pains in my feet anyway, but it still makes me extremely paranoid that I'm going to have another flare, which is playing hell with my anxiety.
My question is: is lingering discomfort this far out from an initial and only flare something to be concerned about? Just looking for a little peace of mind.
Thanks!
submitted by itsthatbradguy to gout [link] [comments]

2024.05.06 02:42 Storms_Wrath The Human Artificial Hivemind Part 508: Fire In The Void

First Previous Wiki
Fleet Commander Annabelle Weber raised the shields of the dreadnaught as she approached. All across the Alliance Defense Fleet's mental network, psychic amplifiers were activated in tandem with shields. Thousands of small bubbles surrounded the soldiers and crews in the mindscape while Annabelle herself donned a mental device meant to strengthen her even more. It had been delivered directly by Brey herself in a massive expenditure of energy and likely was another classified project.
This far out, Annabelle had less access than usual. There was also less contact with Phoebe than usual, likely due to politics. But out here, that didn't matter. All that mattered were her crews, her ships, and her soldiers. Past that, the Cawlarians. Tenrah's fleet had started to move away from her, as the Admiral drew most of the fire from Siran's fleets.
Meanwhile, Annabelle and the Battle Planner were working on the planet crackers. There were five of them, luckily out of position by a few scouting attacks that had been sent against them a few hours prior. It had helped to ensure Annabelle and the Battle Planner wouldn't get wiped by the beams before even entering the battlefield.
They'd been deployed faster than expected. Phoebe's sabotage drones hadn't been able to destroy them quickly enough before being detected. The capability was unexpected, but it wasn't entirely implausible. She hadn't told the Heptarchies anything of the war plans, and neither had Phoebe or Tenrah. And the Battle Planner had almost no contact with them after their constant disparagement of his religion.
He'd gotten over it, though, and was stable. Hundreds of thousands of mine sweeper vessels, little more than drones with massive but flimsy shields, started moving forward. They cleared any stealth mines, antimatter pockets, and any other natural surprises that waited for them. The planet crackers themselves loomed large in the distance, but only through the optical sensors.
The battle would take a long time, and Siran's forces were being hit by a large portion of a second fleet. The Cawlarians had suddenly pulled off border patrol for a pincer attack. It risked the Heptarchy invading, but Annabelle couldn't stop that.
If Kawtyahtnakal had made the decision, he had plans in place. It wasn't a question. Annabelle checked the vectors, the networks, and the inventories of her fleet again. Everything was nearly at 100%, with only the FTL fuel reserves somewhat lower. Luckily, hydrogen compression wasn't exactly difficult in the modern age. Specialized interfaces told Annabelle that several smaller fleets of the High Kingdom were closing in, but they wouldn't arrive before they were already in the thick of battle.
Explosions rippled on the distant shield fronts of the mine sweeper drones. Corrosive acids and even smaller cutting drones came out, along with several heavy magnetic field bursts. Many of the drones were disabled, but the Battle Planner's strategy had paid off. His fleet took almost no damage, and only a few dozen cruisers and frigates were even hit. They shrugged off the damage easily, though they did pull back from the front of the formation.
The fleets had adopted a design that allowed for easy repositioning and retreat. It took tactics similar to the old British musket lines, only for actual ships instead of people. The caveat to that was only small ships could really turn quickly enough for the strategy to be effective. Their broadside guns, less capable than the dorsal and spinal guns but still powerful in their own right, also helped with maintaining the barrage of fire pouring down on the thick shields that were rapidly spinning up around the planet crackers.
Several ships filled with explosives and absolutely covered in heavy metals zoomed into the system from outside the battle. Annabelle could only track them by calculations. The ships themselves were empty of crew, with only a few androids piloting them. Phoebe's suicide vessels were ships that had been towed by Alcubierre drives, emerging from the bent bubbles in such a fashion that they had a massive relative velocity to 'normal' space.
In fact, thanks to some very complicated effects, they had been accelerated to a very close percentage of the speed of light. But in a space battle, the speed of light was still somewhat slow. Even with the presence of tens of thousands of overlapping Q-comms suppression fields, the Kingdom put up a good defense. Invisible ships detonated in front of the attacks, their own versions of speeding space drives detonating in a violent and bright fashion, creating ruins in reality.
Through those broken holes, stars glimmered, twinking uncontrollably. Bright lasers erupted from the side barrels of the planet crackers, taking sweeping passes over the attacking fleets. Thanks to the multiple trajectories, the planet crackers themselves couldn't easily focus their power. Hours later, as lasers and fighters darted across the system, and metal and flame spewed from red-hot barrels on both sides, the first shot hit.
A planet cracker aligned with the center of Annabelle's fleet. Its massive beam charged, sending warning readings across every sensor she had. Charon-class guns fired on the planet cracker, but its shields still hadn't opened. Annabelle started dipping the dreadnaught down, traveling at an oblique angle as the superweapon charged.
All the dreadnaughts in the battle were trying to avoid the planet crackers' fields of fire, but the massive guns were moving far faster than they should have been capable of. Whoever was in charge of them was truly desperate, which was dangerous.
She shouted her orders. The captains did their best, relaying them down the ranks. They pushed their ships beyond their limits. Cruisers groaned. Battlecruisers creaked. Dreadnaughts strained. But one ship, not close enough to the shield to avoid the rotating planet cracker nearest to Annabelle, was unable to escape.
Annabelle blinked away the tears in her eyes watching as the dreadnaught tried to engage its FTL drive, but the opposing fields from the planet crackers blocked it. The ship fired its main guns eight times in five seconds before the weapon split apart. The extra thrust gave it a boost, but it still wasn't enough. Everyone on that ship was about to die, and they all knew it.
Annabelle had done what she could. Now, the rest of the fleet would be in danger if she didn't act soon. She finally unlinked all the fleet's shields, having them pull them back to limit the impact the weapon could deliver. The codes thankfully managed to get through the interference in the battle, though she'd had to resort to laser communications to do it. Some of the ships had already dropped away from the combined fleet's shield.
Even the planet crackers could only damage what they could hit. With her fleet spread so far, the thick beam couldn't destroy them all. And there was proper warning with the Q-comms relays in place for instant communication. The light from the planet cracker wouldn't be fast enough on its own to warn them before it had already fired.
But it still fired. The impossibly bright beam burned out sensors that hadn't shut in time. Shields were overloaded in an instant. A violent undertow in speeding space accompanied the thick laser, allowing the FTL nature of it even despite the suppression fields in place. Past a certain threshold, they could do nothing.
The hivemind took over Annabelle's mind. The thousands of humans on the Coordinator were separated from the network to prevent a far worse fate from befalling the rest. Gravitational waves radiated from the beam along with a physical heat so strong it would have fried Annabelle to plasma from a hundred thousand miles away.
Space dust, scattered asteroids, and the shields of ships all glowed like stars. The unprotected matter became plasma, and a thick ring of plasma puffed out around the planet cracker's barrel, the residue left from the reaction that had created the devastating attack.
It was not just a physical effect, either. In the mindscape, a section winked out of reality, warping so violently with energy as to kill anyone inside. Stone sheared and calved away into a new dimension, caving in and through itself, shields, and people in the process. Light and space bent and collapsed in a relatively straight line. Thousands of people she'd served with for years were wiped out, their minds obliterated as effectively as they could have been.
And then the reality of the mindscape imposed itself, and the line split into smaller things and shapes beyond calculation or understanding. Minds visible beneath the shields of the planet cracker became hidden once again, as Phoebe pulled back her assault briefly to prevent damage to her mind. The hivemind withdrew into its constituent parts, so that the remnants weren't dragged into oblivion.
With Annabelle acting as a hivemind node, the hivemind deciding to remain would have killed her instantly. Her mind would have been smashed into the rock so violently it would have cracked the local layer of the mindscape, possibly killing everyone in the star system.
Meanwhile, the FTL beam continued moving. 182 light minutes separated the planet cracker from the Coordinator. Typically, speeding space FTL was anywhere between 52 to 3000 times faster than light. But speeding space, when it acted on a planet cracker beam, only served to accelerate its speed forever. The last warning from the hivemind had been sent.
13 seconds later, the beam itself impacted the dreadnaught Annabelle was using to remotely coordinate the fleet. The Coordinator was one of the newer and more heavily shielded dreadnaughts that had come from the Mercury shipyards. But no matter how much protection it had, a direct hit from a planet cracker was beyond its capabilities.
The beam atomized the dreadnaught entirely, along with four battlecruisers that were inside the beam that was several kilometers wide. The bright glow vanished in an instant, and the beam kept going, as it would do forever until it struck a planet, moon, or star. The glowing innards of the planet cracker suddenly sputtered with damage. Several attacks had managed to slip through the open shield as the planet cracker fired. They were followed by bullets, decoy drop pods, and actual drop pods. Just as expected.
It was a grim exchange, one which chilled Annabelle's heart to the core. In the military, losses were expected. But that never made them any easier. Doubt crept into her mind, and she harnessed her grief and pain to grind it into the stone of the mindscape. Her soul ached with the reality of what she'd caused, but she pulled the hivemind from its node and gave it an order.
A second later, her grief was quarantined and sequestered appropriately, where it would no longer impede her ability to command. She would spare the tears and the emotions for when they could be allowed. A gap in the defenses needed to be exploited.
The Coordinator's destruction had allowed Annabelle to take out the planet cracker with a shot from her dreadnaught's side guns. She couldn't use the main gun due to the angle and the risk of causing irreparable damage or an explosion she couldn't escape.
It could be easily repaired, but not quickly. The capacitor cell had been hit. Annabelle took the opportunity to assess the battle, as well as keep an eye on the defending forces. The remaining Kingdom battlecruisers and destroyers were fighting on, but they were a footnote in the battle. FTL suppression and multi-vector attacks kept them from being able to escape.
The Alliance hammered on them hard, breaking their shields, cracking their hulls, and detonating their reactors. Every few minutes, there would be another explosion out in the void as fighters and frigates took down the shields of another enemy. Her dreadnaught took care of the battlecruisers while her battlecruisers and cruisers hunted and corralled the smaller ships.
Without the power of numbers on their side, the Kingdom's defenses were already caving in. All that remained were the planet crackers, locked out of FTL by the strongest fields Annabelle could manage. Had her ship been hit, they could have freed a few. But it had not been. The Coordinator's ultimate sacrifice, terrible as it was, still enabled her to win the battle.
Several fighters strafed the inner defenses along with faster frigates. Dreedeen pilots spun and looped around inferior defense vessels.
Phoebe's missiles and lasers targeted the planet cracker's own laser defenses with pinpoint accuracy. Nuclear detonations rippled across the thick bulk of the planet cracker, but it shrugged off the barrage easily. More shields were flaring into existence, but it was too late to prevent Phoebe from landing roughly twenty thousand androids and five hundred commando androids on the ship.
Fighters fell apart, releasing more androids hidden within their wings and hulls. Several frigates fell to pieces, disgorging hundreds more androids. They flooded the planet cracker's nearest airlocks. Thermite Throwers spewed their searing power into the thick locks. More detonations rippled across them as Phoebe worked on taking out the airlocks.
Thick gouts of air rushed out of the planet cracker, though comparatively small compared to the actual size of the massive gun. Annabelle continued to move her fleet closer to the planet cracker, still watching as Phoebe's disposable androids swarmed through the now broken airlocks and set more Thermite Throwers on blast doors, sealing their entrances. The battle proceeded for more grueling and stressful hours.
The Battle Planner captured two more planet crackers, taking hundreds of thousands of losses in ships and borders for each of them. Phoebe broke through to the engine and control rooms of the planet cracker she was invading, finding it all destroyed. With the defenses neutralized and the defenders being routed, a new carrier was brought in.
It was a ship dedicated to bringing technological marvels to the frontline. Androids hauled thick cables from the ship, dragging them through the hallways of the planet cracker. Phoebe eventually plugged them into the broken remains of the computers in the control and engine rooms.
"Done," the android next to Annabelle said. "I'll have the planet crackers ready in a few hours for firing. I've captured around 40,000 personnel."
"Thank you, Phoebe," Annabelle said.
"You are welcome. Excellent work."
She'd already offered condolences for the deaths. Morale was low, having lost a dreadnaught, and there was no need to lower it. All Annabelle could do was commend those who'd fallen in the line of duty, protecting the lives of innocents by capturing weapons capable of destroying entire worlds.
Annabelle's second prong of the attack, along with the Battle Planner's third and fifth prongs, hit the fourth planet cracker, swarming it with attacks. The shield never opened for it to fire, but that didn't matter. An Arsenal Asteroid smashed into the planet cracker's shield at 99.6% of the speed of light when its barrel aligned with Annabelle's dreadnaught. It was too slow to properly evade at this distance, and both of them knew it. The weapon was starting to charge its gun.
It hit at an oblique angle to avoid destroying the valuable target entirely. When it impacted, a nova of light erupted in a halo rising from the shield, which flickered several times. And then it went out.
15 trillion gigaton explosions tended to be damaging to shields. Even the massive shield of the planet cracker, equipped with all the power of a planetary shield inside a few dozens of miles in radius, was unable to stand up to that. Though it almost had, somehow.
Annabelle had nearly died. Luckily, the planet cracker fired prematurely, so its beam didn't carry the apocalyptic power in its entirety. It had roughly half power. But most importantly, it wasn't FTL. So, the 80-minute travel time was plenty for Annabelle's evasive maneuvers to evade it. The beam vanished into the void of space.
The tears did not fall. Not yet. There was more work to be done. Her eyes fixated on the fifth and final planet cracker, which was turning her way. The sensors picked up several stealth fighters attached to the gun's sides, helping to push it to make those quick turns.
Annabelle had the dreadnaught roll, swinging it back toward the rotating planet cracker. She'd measured the firing time of the last one, and the momentum of the thing would work against it. By the time it would be able to match her forward motion and account for it, she would be out of the cone. She had an extra 10 minutes, thanks to the light lag for that. And she'd put them to use.
The Battle Planner swooped back in, using the precious minutes to burn toward the last remaining threat. Annabelle's ship passed the line of sight of the planet cracker. It had already started charging, but it was too late. The last of her ship had passed when the massive gun belched a ray of thick light. It seared past and below her, as she'd also used the light lag to add a bit of relative yaw and pitch to her ship. The laser destroyed her shields and ruined the armor facing it with heat expansion. Plasma formed on the edges of her dreadnaught, exploding away in violent puffs.
The actual beam had passed a scant few thousand miles away and was going off into space, this time hitting nothing at all directly.
A stream of fire from the planet cracker hit the shields at the same time, trying to keep the opening from allowing purchase in the shields. But as the residual explosions cleared, nothing seemed to happen. No fighters, no giant battles against the well-prepared defenses.
"Permission to fire?" Phoebe asked.
"Permission granted," Annabelle replied.
A hard light hologram around the captured fourth planet cracker fell away. A thick beam passed the shield of the fifth planet cracker, weakening it visibly. Then, the planet cracker beam hit the star in the center of the system. A gigantic coronal mass ejection followed, along with an ejection of plasma roughly eight times the size of Jupiter, as the beam detonated within the dense interior of the hot ball of plasma.
The magnetic storm which followed disabled every shield in the system, leaving the Cawlarians and the Alliance easy pickings of the planet cracker. Phoebe's androids landed on the burnt and blasted metal surface first. Thermite Throwers followed.
Five hours later, the battle ended. The hivemind wrapped her in a gentle hug as the mental block on her grief slowly started to fade.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Elder Manil Van smiled as he ate something called a burger. So far, the tour he'd gone on with the Alliance had been mostly uneventful. Dirty looks, a few mothers moving to the opposite side of the street, and a whole lot of walking. He had expected it, though.
The Patriarch checked in on him periodically, looking through his eyes and sometimes listening to the conversations that Manil had. A few of the humans on Luna actually were interested in learning more about him. They'd come up to him, shake his claws with their hands under the wary gazes of his guards, and ask if they could learn more about him. Some of their interests were academic. Several scientists had been recording his testimony on how genetic altering and conceptual energy had contributed to the number of Elders who were angry all the time.
Others wanted to know more about his culture, traditions, and morals. They'd been surprised several times to learn just how similar some of them were or how different. The Casting Of the Candles as a way to honor the death of someone great by setting floating candles into a river was apparently similar to how a few of them had done funeral services. Other times, they were surprised by Manils' descriptions of how large the Sprilnav's trains and buses were to account for quadrupedal forms. Their ceilings were generally lower in exchange for packing more people inside. Some of them were also interested in Sprilnav fashion.
Most of it wasn't something that he bothered with. The Sprilnav didn't really do 'pants' like humans did. With four legs, that was often relegated to either long socks, robes, and dresses, or just simple loincloths. Female Sprilnav didn't have the same taboo that female humans did about showing their chests. Manil assumed it was likely due to a lack of mammary glands at the location, so there was no 'breast-feeding' of children or any related stimulations even possible.
The dimorphism between male and female humans was greater than that of the Sprilnav, who mostly showed it in bone structures and how lean their bodies were. Others had compared him to other quadrupedal Earth creatures, attempting to see the singularities and differences.
Of course, he denied anything that required extensive physical interaction. The rave gyms that Equisa apparently went to didn't interest him, with their large crowds. He disliked having so many eyes on him, so he decided to avoid that whenever he could. One particularly bold human had even asked him on a date, citing things that were apparently mixes of superstitions and odd fantasies gained from too much time spent on a network with a great deal of certain content.
Though some of it was shocking, most wasn't. He'd seen a lot in his long life, and if a network was unregulated enough, a lot of the things Phoebe later explained to him would also appear. Though the fact that anything they did managed to surprise him at all was worrying, considering that they were not an old species.
"And you likely could start up a few businesses, for the novelty of it," Phoebe was saying. Manil nodded absently.
"What is it?"
"Where are Luke and Leia?"
"Elsewhere," Phoebe said. "They're assets of the Alliance. We don't exactly give away their locations. Especially..." she trailed off.
"Especially not to Sprilnav," Manil finished.
"Yes. I am authorized to tell you that further contact can be arranged in the future, under careful circumstances."
"That is good. They are good people, somehow. I'm still trying to figure out how to managed to make super soldiers that are good people."
"I had no hand in their creation. But we managed."
"Yes. I would hope no more are being experimented upon."
"I can neither confirm or deny that. Take that as you will, but there will be no further conversation about classified topics."
"Then... how are you feeling, Phoebe? I heard you got in some hot water recently."
"Learned that idiom too? And yes, I did," she said, looking a little defensive. "Politicians are who they are. But Humanity is better than them, and kinder than them. Even the youngest people can say the nicest things to me. It's what I love about them."
"Love," Manil said. "An interesting word."
"A true one. I am a person, and I happen to be able to love."
"You have people that do not love?"
"There are different kinds. Aromantic people, for example. Edu'frec doesn't engage in non-familial relationships. The wanderers do things differently, as do the Junyli. Every species is different."
"So you have people that do not contribute."
"We do. Every society does, and they all deserve a chance at life."
"An interesting opinion, but I suppose our cultures to have differences."
"I hope you don't purge your own people."
"I do not. The Van family does not. But we are not our entire species, just as you and Penny are not the entire Alliance. It is prudent to remember that."
He said it more for the Patriarch than for them.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Penny frowned as Valisada continued to defend himself against Justicar's anger. Kashaunta's promise of a 'civilized discussion' clearly didn't account for their animosity. Only Valisada didn't say anything, continuing to listen to various insults spewed against him and his leadership. When Justicar's latest tirade finished, Valisada turned toward Penny.
"Your ally is gifted with his words."
"How dare you ignore me," Justicar said. "Your Grand Fleet did this, and I will have my reparations."
"What's your price, now that you are done?"
"50 quintillion credits, and you leave."
Justicar had escalated his terms. Valisada noticed, as did Penny.
Nilnacrawla sighed in Penny's head.
If we get him to sign a non-aggression treaty, we need to ensure both Kashaunta and Justicar have a vested interest in backing it. He isn't above tarnishing his reputation for the issues he believes are important. He is dangerous, and you must remain vigilant while he is Grand Fleet Commander.
Kashaunta is worse than I hoped.
She is what you knew she was, but is now comfortable letting her worse side free so it will be normalized when the Judgment is done. Once you get used to it, you will excuse it, and Kashaunta will use your gratitude to ensure your continued relationship. She is grooming you, Penny.
For what?
Likely to continue providing her money with the linear singularities. Do not be surprised if new threats appear that 'only Kashaunta can stop' when the Judgment ends. Or if it goes unfavorably, for her to clamp down because she knows she's the Alliance's only hope. Play at anger or friendship if you wish, but do not forget who she is, and how she got her wealth.
Thank you, Nilnacrawla, Penny said. But can you remind me when I'm losing my way, if I do in the future?
Gladly.
"I cannot leave, sadly," Valisada said, looking truly downtrodden at the request. "I have my own masters I must please, the same ones who ensured the previous leader's removal. I cannot go against their desires, and their desires are for me to remain here, as a check against Kashaunta and her own Grand Fleet."
"My Grand Fleet is here because yours is. And I would note that yours arrived first," Kashaunta replied.
"Through no actions of my own, and I am unable to rectify that to your liking."
"That is convenient, isn't it?" Justicar asked.
"Ask them about that. They're the ones who attacked my flagship and abducted Azeri," Valisada responded. "I hold no animosity about that, but your actions to have consequences. I will not be bullied or goaded into making a poor decision here. You all are smart people, so surely you realize that any further arguments must have a legal backing before we proceed. Justicar is uniquely equipped to handle these things, given the size and scale of his legal apparatus, as well as its high quality. Just as I am sure that the Judgment will proceed soon."
"You almost sound eager for it, Elder Valisada. Is there any reason why?" Penny asked.
"Well, yes. It is because I am tired of this. Regrettably, it will determine the fate of your species. But that is life. The weak are ruled by the strong."
"And yet you say you do not look down upon Humanity."
"It is not a weakness of your forms, or of your hearts. It is one of minds, population, and resources. And your Alliance has more species than just Humanity, Penny. Are you not concerned for the teeming billions of Acuarfar, or the Guulin you stole from the United Legions?"
"The Guulin were liberated from slavery," Penny frowned. "And when I get back down to Justicar, I will continue doing that to the innocent people your Dreadnaught Captain mercilessly slaughtered. In the interest of honest cooperation, I will terminate gang leaders with prejudice if I must, but only if there is no other choice.
Any who have links to your Grand Fleet will be treated even more harshly, which should discourage any more 'rogue' members of your fleet from engaging in illicit affairs. For the 455 thousand dead Sprilnav that Solei personally killed, it would be the least you can do. Given that the Grand Fleets exist to protect the Sprilnav species from all threats, internal and external, of course."
"Perhaps Solei believed you were an external threat," Valisada replied. "Given your threats against those who actively stand against you, it would make sense from his perspective."
Penny laughed. "His last perspective was of Justicar's teeth crunching through his ribcage."
"How distasteful to laugh over such a gruesome death."
Valisada actually managed to look sad about it.
"Distateful, Elder? I'm showing the same amount of appreciation that you do for the Sprilnav who don't happen to be rich and powerful Elders. Unless you are assuming that the 455 thousand Sprilnav are worth less than the life of one Elder?"
"There is no assumption necessary," Valisada said. "In monetary, legal, economic, and even political studies, this has been proven true. In fact, the lowest estimates for the ratios are 1 Elder for every 50 million Sprilnav, though some more biased studies can go quite higher. I remember the Autonomous Peoples' Stars put out a study which found that roughly 20 billion Sprilnav equaled an Elder in value.
Of course, the names of those who funded that study happened to include several Elders high up in the political hierarchy, including a certain Elder named Kashaunta. Luckily, more realistic measures of our worth prevail. In the event of a war breaking out, the largest losses for Justicar would be the civilians."
"And a war will not break out," Justicar agreed. "If it does, my jaws will find a new Elder's body."
For effect, his tongue slid over his teeth. It was a grotesque gesture, but neither of the Elders seemed bothered by it. Perhaps they'd seen worse. Penny had to admit it would just be another step to Elder insanity if they were cannibals, too. The only thing worse was if they did blood sacrifices on babies in cults.
"You know, cannibalism is considered a crime by your very own laws," Valisada said as if that was the only problem with it worth considering.
"I do not remember consuming the physical meat of Solei, which is the requirement for that law. Deaths in the mindscape can happen when Elders make poor decisions. But that is beside the point. I have matters to attend to, and will be sending over some agreements and lawyers to your ship. Kill them or harm them, and you will be at war with me for real," Justicar threatened.
"Without a flagship, such a measure would be foolish," Valisada said.
"Luckily, he would not be without a flagship in that case," Kashaunta replied. "Because I will be sending lawyers too. Rest assured, a war with me, and my nation, is something you might live to see the end of, though your remaining relatives on your home planet would not."
"You would not dare."
"I would," Kashaunta said. "Quite recently, I have been reminded of my previous methods of dealing with those like you. I believe I was reminded 'what I am' if you would. You do not care about the people Solei killed on Justicar, and neither will I for Padalia, Ni-alsi 2, or Malikaven."
So this was to make Penny feel bad for her words. She saw what this was, and would not allow herself to be swayed. Elders had this sort of tendency, and if she wanted to get a positive outcome, she'd have to deal with it for a bit longer. Perhaps Kashaunta would regain her willingness to maintain her facade of friendliness again once this was over.
But Penny would not forget this. Kashaunta was the Alliance's best option, but that didn't mean she was a good one. After the Judgment, Penny would reexamine their relationship.
Valisada's eyes narrowed. "You would increase it to three planets?"
"Yes. I believe their total population is roughly 140 billion people. That equates to 70 Elders. Or 67.16, if we are being exact with the study I believe you are citing."
Penny did her best to hide her disgust but failed. Valisada took notice. "This is who you work for, Penny. This is who she really is."
Don't listen to him, Nilnacrawla said.
I know. He doesn't want what's best for us, and Kashaunta's our means to an end.
Watch you back, Penny. I'll do the same.
"I know," Penny replied. "But we don't have any other allies. You're not exactly reliable, even if you were to suspiciously flip sides and make an offer to be a new ally. Justicar is bound to his planet. The Progenitors are pulling back their influence."
"And such extreme threats as I have made would only come to fruition if a war were to break out," Kashaunta said. "I am making them so you understand the scope of your actions as a Grand Fleet Commander. Perhaps I was overly harsh, but do not mistake these threats as empty. I protect my own."
"Your own?" Valisada asked. Kashaunta flicked a claw toward Penny, without meeting her gaze. Penny was still processing the sudden escalation, which had seemingly came out of nowhere. Why was Kashaunta pretending she cared? She clearly saw Penny and the Alliance as means to an end. Perhaps even several ends.
"Penny, and those she values. I could consider the slaves as citizens of the People's Stars, for example."
"No, you could not," Justicar responded. His demeanor darkened visibly, and the lighting in the virtual reality became darker.
"Why not? You don't think they're your citizens, do you? Not much 'justice' in keeping slaves, hmm?"
This is stupid, and a waste of my time, Penny thought.
They do need a bit of an ego check, don't they? Nilnacrawla agreed.
Yes.
Penny stood up, making her chair slide backward. "Can you all quit being evil? This is ridiculous. All we need to do is sit together and draft agreements. Otherwise, leave it to the lawyers, and stop with the petty insults. Or the grave ones. You're not 5 year olds. You're billions of years old. It's honestly sad. No, it's pathetic.
How have you managed to keep your 'master race' thing going this long, when you suck this badly? Spoiled little brats. Can you believe Kashaunta told me I needed to be civilized for this meeting? Perhaps I should don a loincloth and pick up my club, so I can start hooting it up with you old primitives."
The Elders paused, looking at Penny in wonder.
"You see? Let's talk treaties. Do you guys have any ideas, or should I go get some wood for a bonfire? With how much you all talk, I'm sure your singing voices must be phenomenal."
submitted by Storms_Wrath to HFY [link] [comments]

2024.05.04 21:29 PerilousPlatypus The Godbreaker Mage

Klaszin watched.
There were so many things to see. Particularly for one whose eyes had been opened as Klaszin's had. The path to awareness was a long one, measured across the many generations of his family. Each person in that chain had done their part, carefully cultivating the magic within them and ensuring it was properly passed on. This was way to true power. This was the way to magic that reached beyond this world and into the many worlds connected to it.
This ability was new to Humanity. For so long magic had been caged, held fast by the Gods who drained this world of its resources. Earth's mana was stolen, its magic users culled before the seed within them blossomed.
It was only in secret that this power could be cultivated. Only in the remote holds in the blasted wastes could Humanity slowly gather its strength. When Klaszin's eyes opened, all things impossible became possible. The Gods became vulnerable.
At long last, a Godbreaker Mage. One who could finally free Humanity from its shackles.
Beside Klaszin stood a woman, wizened and crippled. Time had been unkind to her body, but her mind shined still. She watched Klaszin just as Klaszin watched the fabric of reality. Occasionally, she tutted, shaking her head slightly. "No. Not him. Not yet."
Klaszin grimaced, frustrated. "Why? I am powerful enough."
She smiled at her son. He was not wrong, but he was not right either. "This is not a question of power. It's a question of the proper ordering of things. Of removing the cancer infecting our world without killing the patient. Slaying Onima would remove our greatest tumor, but we would not survive it. We must nibble at the edges first. Cut away the lesser gods and increase our own resources. Put ourselves in the place of these false idols and restore Humanity to self-determination."
These were not words Klaszin wanted to hear. He was young and impatient. He lusted for grand confrontation, for true justice, not the slaying of pitiful demigods. But his mother had always been his guide, and he was loathe to disappoint her. It was she that showed him the path to Enlightenment. It was she that had taught him how to open his eyes.
He wondered, not for the first time, why she had not done so for herself. He had asked, once, and had received only a thin grin in response.
Then, a ripple. A wave coursing through the fabric as it was pierced. A gate from a world beyond as a God made their way to this world. Klaszin to feel the contours of the gate. The signature. Beside him, his mother tensed, her thin, bony fingers grasping his wrist.
"Yes! Him!" She hissed. "Go."
Klaszin nodded, his hand reaching down to pull a stream of mana from the vast vat sitting behind his chair. His mother would aid in protecting it, as would the others in his retinue, but it would still be his greatest weakness. He pulled the mana into him, connecting his body to the river flowing from the vat. The blue ether pulsed in time with his heart as power filled him. With each passing moment, he felt his magic well up within him. So many things sharpened when he drew upon his family's store.
But it came at a cost. Mana was precious. Every droplet was worth kingdoms. When he drew upon it, he must make the most of it, conserving what he could. God hunting was a terribly expensive business.
Klaszin raised his left hand, two fingers extended, in a vertical slice. A rent in the fabric appeared as a small window between places was carved open. The same hand now sliced horizontally, expanding the window. Then he stood and approached the incision. He reached out with two hands and pulled apart the seams of reality, opening a portal large enough to travel through. His retainers moved quickly, their own magic fortifying the boundaries of the portal, ensuring it would not collapse and separate Klaszin from the flow of mana from the vat.
His mother gave him a small bow. "Fight well, son. A victory against Gonchan, Keeper of Many Things, will alter much in this battle."
"He should not have come," Klaszin replied.
"They are hungry and arrogant. Their dead brothers and sisters can convince them for only so long. Good luck."
Klaszin nodded and then stepped through the portal.
He now stood in a vast throne room, an entire wall open to the air with a view of a vast city beyond. The entire city was nestled between the peaks of two mountains. Atop the taller of the two peaks was a massive, golden temple. Klaszin was familiar with the place, his tutors had taken care to instruct him on all of Humanity's God cities. This was Gon Jhian, capitol of the High Shelf. This was the seat of power for Gonchan. The heart of the land that worshiped him. Tithing their mana to him.
Commotion commenced shortly after Klaszin arrived. Dozens of bodies moved to intercept him as a shrill cry rose above the ruckus. "Intruder! Protect the King!"
Klaszin watched them come, curious. He had been to many different lands and he always found it curious how many things remained the same despite the distance between them. All reacted much the same way to unexpected events, treating every surprise as a threat. It wasn't an odd reaction, and the Kingsguard of Gon Jhian were to be commended for their discipline and speed. But it was still disappointing.
And a waste of mana.
"Stop!" Klaszin said, raising his hands. His fingers danced in front of him, directing streams of mana out. Within moments, the Kingsguard was subdued, the joints of their armor melded together. They tottered a few steps and then toppled over. It would take considerable time and access to a blacksmith to remove them from their makeshift prisons.
Grumbling, Klaszin turned to the King. He expected a man but found a boy, cowering atop an ornate, gold-encrusted throne. Klaszin frowned, "Where is your father?" He searched his memory for the name and found it buried in a dusty corner filled with history lessons from Scholar Hachin. "Yennis?"
The boy swallowed, a sheen of sweat on his forehead. "D-D-dead."
"Fine. You are?"
"King Flaharg."
It was a terrible name, but Klaszin saw little purpose in pointing it out. The new King had enough problems. Besides, Flaharg probably already knew.
"King Flaharg, I am here for Gonchan. I suggest you, and your troops, remain here."
His eyes widened, "Lord...Gonchan? He's returned? It's been so long."
A loud gong rang out from the temple above, reverberating through the valley, announcing the arrival of the God into his domain. Klaszin arched a brow and pointed in the direction of the temple. "I will make my way to him now." He began to make his away across the throne room toward a massive set of doors emblazoned with the symbol of a giant beast. It looked vaguely like a cross between a dragon and a cat. Gonchan.
Flaharg swallowed, "Who are you?" He moistened his lips. "What are you?"
Klaszin paused, "I am Godbreaker Klaszin."
"Godbreaker..." Flaharg repeated, trying to understand. But he would not, not until Klaszin had done what he had come here to do. There was no concept for a Godbreaker in Gon Jhian. There were only Gods. But they would learn soon enough.
Before Flaharg could say more, Klaszin was at the door. He pushed his palm out in front of him, and the doors slammed open, flying off their hinges and careening up the stairs beyond. He spared a brief glance back at the portal behind him and the thin stream of mana flowing through it. Members of retinue were making their way through the portal, their shields marked with the Godbreaker crest. They took up guard beside the portal, their faces grim.
Seeing no reason not to trust the matter to them, Klaszin reached to the smooth wall beside him. A hand of carved stone reached out of the wall and grasped his own hand. Moments later Klaszin was lifted up and then pulled along as the hand ascended the stairway. As much as he would like to float up the stairs, being dragged up by a wall hand was far more efficient. Perhaps, once he had access to more sources of mana, he could use it on luxuries.
Just before the top of the stairway the hand let him go, depositing him in front of a second set of massive doors. These two are subjected to the same treatment, blowing outward and off their hinges, slamming into the temple entryway beyond. Screams rang out as attendants fled his arrival.
Ahead, Klaszin could feel Gonchan stirring, awakening to his presence. Klaszin wished he could have simply opened a portal directly to the God, but it was too dangerous. Until the portal was well-fortified, it was easy to attack, just as Gonchan's portal was right now.
Klaszin could feel the gate in the room beyond the entryway. The God had left it open, but had not protected it. Klaszin wondered at the carelessness of Gods. Perhaps they had been too long unchallenged in their power to be anything other than thoughtless, but it still surprised him. Klaszin had already killed three lesser Gods, one would think that might create a reaction.
But preferences created patterns. Patterns settled into habits. Habits were difficult to root out.
Well, it was to Klaszin's advantage. He crouched down and two hands of polished marble reached up and lay ahold of his feet and ankles, yanking him forward and through the entryway. To either side loomed massive carved statues of Gonchan, the Keeper of Many Things. All these depicted was a mass of mouths, each open and waiting.
The doors ahead, towering and fortified, strained and then gave away at his approach. Klaszin was a Godbreaker, and barriers, regardless of their craft, would not keep him from his objective. As the doors swung inward, cracking on their hinges, they revealed the room beyond. It was an enormous space, dappled with ornate columns supporting a ceiling hundreds of feet above. The center of the chamber was dominated by a massive pool, bubbling and roiling from the heat of a hundred unseen furnaces below. All along the periphery of the room were shelves and display cases, holding precious gems, artifacts, and other treasures stolen from Humanity.
Klaszin took all of this in but remained focused on the pool. He could feel the portal between worlds deep below, obscured by the waters. He could also sense Gonchan, squirming its way toward the portal.
"Coward!" Klaszin snarled. The marble hands pulled him across the floor and to the pool. He peered down into the clouded depths, pulling mana from his thread to aid his perception. The portal was distant, but not unreachable. Traveling to it through the boiling water would be dangerous, but possible. It was unlikely to make a difference, Gonchan was faster and closer to the portal. Klaszin would not reach it in time.
The Godbreaker frowned, frustrated, as he considered unappealing options.
He would not get another chance at this. This was the time to act. Even if it came at a terrible cost, removing Gonchan from the pantheon would be worth it. Klaszin focused and called a much greater thread of mana through the portal. The torrent rushed into him, coursing through his body and setting his veins on fire. His eyes flared blue, crackles of energy sizzling at the corners. He knelt down, pressing both palms flat against the marble bordering the pool. He could feel the great slabs of it reaching deep into the ground beneath the temple, cradling the pool.
Mana began to flow into those slabs, concentrating on unseen fissures. Precious seconds trickled by before a groan rattled through the temple as the slabs began to crack, releasing the water from the pool through a thousand holes. Steam rose off the roiling water as it swirled away, and Kalszin leapt in, following it down into the rapidly draining cistern.
Klaszin could see portions of Gonchan's massive form appear from the pool as the great beast was tossed around by the rapidly receding water, drawn away from the portal it so desperately sought to reach. Klaszin had studied each of the Gods, but seeing them in person always cemented the nature of his task -- each God was a being of terrible beauty. Gonchan was no different.
According to his scholars, Gonchan was a Hydratic Leviathan. A creature of immense size, far beyond those populating Earth, its natural habitat was the boiling oceans of its own world. It feasted upon almost anything it could reach with its many gaping maws, though it took particular pleasure in objects of worth, particularly those vested with magical properties. The vast shelves in the temple chamber were priceless by any measure but in this place they were reduced to morsel for the God to dine upon at its leisure.
The water continued to drain away, bringing more of Gonchan in the view. Steam billowed in great gouts around it, but Klaszin could see the beast well enough. The center of its mass was an enormous body, mottled brown and oblong. Long, dragging tentacles emerged from it, interspersed with writhing serpentine necks capped with mouths ringed with rows of gnashing teach. On the body itself, a dozen oozing unblinking eyes stared outward at Klaszin as he approached.
[Who are you to stand before a GOD?]
The words rang out in Klaszin, drowning out his thoughts and pushing a compulsion on him to kneel. It was not the first time Klaszin had to contend with God Speak, but it still frayed his nerves. His opened eye saw it for what it was -- a forceful but intricate application of mana -- and pushed the compulsion aside.
Klaszin would not bow before a God.
"I am the Godbreaker," he replied. He brought his hands up into a steeple before him, gathering a mana blade in the small space between them. Then he drew his left hand downward, pulling the now formed blade along with it. It extended outward from his hand by few feet, a shimmering blue pane of energy. He raised his hand beside his head and then swiped it down in a chopping motion. The blue pane of energy released on the downward swing and flew through the air, meeting the fleshy neck of one of the mouths and severing it.
The God squealed, black ichor spraying from the severed mouth.
"You should not have come Gonchan. This is not your world. It is ours." Another blade slashed outward, severing a grasping tentacle in the process of trying to drag Gonchan along the floor of the cistern and toward the portal on the other side. "I am your end."
[I will feast upon you.]
A great gnashing of maws followed the words as multiple heads dove toward Klaszin. Marble hands reached up and lay ahold of Klaszin's feet once again and he slid along the cistern floor in a half crouch, occasionally leaping over the drainage holes he had created earlier. As the mouths darted forward, they were dealt with, the mana blade slicing through each, severing in some cases or carving off great heaps of flesh in others.
Severed heads began to reform, two maws emerging from the oozing stump. With each additional set of mouths, the corpus of the main body shrank slightly, providing substance to form the heads. An ocrean of mana flowed through the God as it sustained its attack. The assault was brutal but simple. Gonchan was a beast and followed its natural tendencies. These were understandable and exploitable.
Klaszin slowly circled the cistern, defending against the head and tentacles as he made his way to the portal. Unlike his own, it was a massive aperture easily a few hundred feet in diameter. As a gate between worlds, Klaszin could not peer beyond its surface, but he could feel the connection to the place beyond. Klaszin wished dearly to move through the portal and wreak vengeance on the world beyond just as Gonchan had done here, but it was not possible. His thread of mana could not follow him there.
All he could do was punish Gonchan for coming here.
Klaszin began to tear at the unprotected edges of the portal, collapsing the rent in the fabric and helping the tear to mend. Gonchan began to emit a keening wail as the portal began to fragment and dissolve. Klaszin had little concept of how Gods formed these portals but he knew creating one was no simple thing even for the Gods. Once lost, they became stranded in this world. Captured.
Klaszin studied Gonchan. Much of its massive body had been fed into new maws. Hundreds of them now swarmed about snapping futilely at Klaszin, who stood beyond their reach.
[FEAST!]
[FEAST!]
[FEAST!]
Gonchan screamed in his mind. Klaszin could feel the rage and hunger in the God. He could also sense the fear. Without the waters, it was growing cold and lethargic. With the new heads it was draining its energy far faster than normal. It needed food. It needed to escape this cold, miserable place.
It would not.
While the heads and tentacles flailed and writhed, Klaszin gathered pushed mana through his body once again, slowly shaping a ball of energy before him. It took some time to form, it was no simple thing to construct a weapon capable of killing a God. Once the ball had reached a sufficient size he began to draw it out, pushing energy into an infinitesimally small point of energy and then flaring out from there into a spearhead.
By the time he was done the mana spear was over two dozen feet long with massive rivulets of power coursing along its length. Dimly, Klaszin could sense the draining tank of mana back through the portal and regretted the cost of the weapon.
But there was nothing to be done.
God hunting was a terribly expensive business.
Klaszin began to feed mana into the propulsion apparatus at the tail of the spear, loading it with enough energy to travel to and through the God. Only when he was absolutely certain he had done enough to complete the task at hand did he release it.
The mana spear shot through the space between him and Gonchan, leaving a brilliant brue streaking afterimage in Klaszin's eyes. It pierced the great corpus of the God and disappeared in, leaving charred flesh at the entrypoint. Moments later Gonchan's body began to pulse blue and white as destructive fire lanced through it, traveling up the necks of the maws and then spraying outward as it was burned from within.
Within moments, the God shuddered and then was dead.
Klaszin stared at the beast, hating it. Centuries had passed with Gonchan weighing upon this land. Countless lives and treasures had disappeared into that being, only for it to demand more. It was the Keeper of Many Things, and it had taken all of them. There was no regaining what had been lost. The mana had been consumed or stored in the world beyond. It would take time for the people of this land to recover.
He let out a long sigh.
Marble hands reached up and lay hold of his feet, pushing him up the cistern and away from the great body of the dead God. Another gone, but so many still remained. Twenty-seven. Less and Greater.
Resjin with Many Hands
Nightstealer.
Onima.
They were all out there, taking from Humanity.
And Klaszin the Godbreaker would kill them all.
submitted by PerilousPlatypus to PerilousPlatypus [link] [comments]

2024.05.04 21:28 PerilousPlatypus The Godbreaker Mage

Klaszin watched.
There were so many things to see. Particularly for one whose eyes had been opened as Klaszin's had. The path to awareness was a long one, measured across the many generations of his family. Each person in that chain had done their part, carefully cultivating the magic within them and ensuring it was properly passed on. This was way to true power. This was the way to magic that reached beyond this world and into the many worlds connected to it.
This ability was new to Humanity. For so long magic had been caged, held fast by the Gods who drained this world of its resources. Earth's mana was stolen, its magic users culled before the seed within them blossomed.
It was only in secret that this power could be cultivated. Only in the remote holds in the blasted wastes could Humanity slowly gather its strength. When Klaszin's eyes opened, all things impossible became possible. The Gods became vulnerable.
At long last, a Godbreaker Mage. One who could finally free Humanity from its shackles.
Beside Klaszin stood a woman, wizened and crippled. Time had been unkind to her body, but her mind shined still. She watched Klaszin just as Klaszin watched the fabric of reality. Occasionally, she tutted, shaking her head slightly. "No. Not him. Not yet."
Klaszin grimaced, frustrated. "Why? I am powerful enough."
She smiled at her son. He was not wrong, but he was not right either. "This is not a question of power. It's a question of the proper ordering of things. Of removing the cancer infecting our world without killing the patient. Slaying Onima would remove our greatest tumor, but we would not survive it. We must nibble at the edges first. Cut away the lesser gods and increase our own resources. Put ourselves in the place of these false idols and restore Humanity to self-determination."
These were not words Klaszin wanted to hear. He was young and impatient. He lusted for grand confrontation, for true justice, not the slaying of pitiful demigods. But his mother had always been his guide, and he was loathe to disappoint her. It was she that showed him the path to Enlightenment. It was she that had taught him how to open his eyes.
He wondered, not for the first time, why she had not done so for herself. He had asked, once, and had received only a thin grin in response.
Then, a ripple. A wave coursing through the fabric as it was pierced. A gate from a world beyond as a God made their way to this world. Klaszin to feel the contours of the gate. The signature. Beside him, his mother tensed, her thin, bony fingers grasping his wrist.
"Yes! Him!" She hissed. "Go."
Klaszin nodded, his hand reaching down to pull a stream of mana from the vast vat sitting behind his chair. His mother would aid in protecting it, as would the others in his retinue, but it would still be his greatest weakness. He pulled the mana into him, connecting his body to the river flowing from the vat. The blue ether pulsed in time with his heart as power filled him. With each passing moment, he felt his magic well up within him. So many things sharpened when he drew upon his family's store.
But it came at a cost. Mana was precious. Every droplet was worth kingdoms. When he drew upon it, he must make the most of it, conserving what he could. God hunting was a terribly expensive business.
Klaszin raised his left hand, two fingers extended, in a vertical slice. A rent in the fabric appeared as a small window between places was carved open. The same hand now sliced horizontally, expanding the window. Then he stood and approached the incision. He reached out with two hands and pulled apart the seams of reality, opening a portal large enough to travel through. His retainers moved quickly, their own magic fortifying the boundaries of the portal, ensuring it would not collapse and separate Klaszin from the flow of mana from the vat.
His mother gave him a small bow. "Fight well, son. A victory against Gonchan, Keeper of Many Things, will alter much in this battle."
"He should not have come," Klaszin replied.
"They are hungry and arrogant. Their dead brothers and sisters can convince them for only so long. Good luck."
Klaszin nodded and then stepped through the portal.
He now stood in a vast throne room, an entire wall open to the air with a view of a vast city beyond. The entire city was nestled between the peaks of two mountains. Atop the taller of the two peaks was a massive, golden temple. Klaszin was familiar with the place, his tutors had taken care to instruct him on all of Humanity's God cities. This was Gon Jhian, capitol of the High Shelf. This was the seat of power for Gonchan. The heart of the land that worshiped him. Tithing their mana to him.
Commotion commenced shortly after Klaszin arrived. Dozens of bodies moved to intercept him as a shrill cry rose above the ruckus. "Intruder! Protect the King!"
Klaszin watched them come, curious. He had been to many different lands and he always found it curious how many things remained the same despite the distance between them. All reacted much the same way to unexpected events, treating every surprise as a threat. It wasn't an odd reaction, and the Kingsguard of Gon Jhian were to be commended for their discipline and speed. But it was still disappointing.
And a waste of mana.
"Stop!" Klaszin said, raising his hands. His fingers danced in front of him, directing streams of mana out. Within moments, the Kingsguard was subdued, the joints of their armor melded together. They tottered a few steps and then toppled over. It would take considerable time and access to a blacksmith to remove them from their makeshift prisons.
Grumbling, Klaszin turned to the King. He expected a man but found a boy, cowering atop an ornate, gold-encrusted throne. Klaszin frowned, "Where is your father?" He searched his memory for the name and found it buried in a dusty corner filled with history lessons from Scholar Hachin. "Yennis?"
The boy swallowed, a sheen of sweat on his forehead. "D-D-dead."
"Fine. You are?"
"King Flaharg."
It was a terrible name, but Klaszin saw little purpose in pointing it out. The new King had enough problems. Besides, Flaharg probably already knew.
"King Flaharg, I am here for Gonchan. I suggest you, and your troops, remain here."
His eyes widened, "Lord...Gonchan? He's returned? It's been so long."
A loud gong rang out from the temple above, reverberating through the valley, announcing the arrival of the God into his domain. Klaszin arched a brow and pointed in the direction of the temple. "I will make my way to him now." He began to make his away across the throne room toward a massive set of doors emblazoned with the symbol of a giant beast. It looked vaguely like a cross between a dragon and a cat. Gonchan.
Flaharg swallowed, "Who are you?" He moistened his lips. "What are you?"
Klaszin paused, "I am Godbreaker Klaszin."
"Godbreaker..." Flaharg repeated, trying to understand. But he would not, not until Klaszin had done what he had come here to do. There was no concept for a Godbreaker in Gon Jhian. There were only Gods. But they would learn soon enough.
Before Flaharg could say more, Klaszin was at the door. He pushed his palm out in front of him, and the doors slammed open, flying off their hinges and careening up the stairs beyond. He spared a brief glance back at the portal behind him and the thin stream of mana flowing through it. Members of retinue were making their way through the portal, their shields marked with the Godbreaker crest. They took up guard beside the portal, their faces grim.
Seeing no reason not to trust the matter to them, Klaszin reached to the smooth wall beside him. A hand of carved stone reached out of the wall and grasped his own hand. Moments later Klaszin was lifted up and then pulled along as the hand ascended the stairway. As much as he would like to float up the stairs, being dragged up by a wall hand was far more efficient. Perhaps, once he had access to more sources of mana, he could use it on luxuries.
Just before the top of the stairway the hand let him go, depositing him in front of a second set of massive doors. These two are subjected to the same treatment, blowing outward and off their hinges, slamming into the temple entryway beyond. Screams rang out as attendants fled his arrival.
Ahead, Klaszin could feel Gonchan stirring, awakening to his presence. Klaszin wished he could have simply opened a portal directly to the God, but it was too dangerous. Until the portal was well-fortified, it was easy to attack, just as Gonchan's portal was right now.
Klaszin could feel the gate in the room beyond the entryway. The God had left it open, but had not protected it. Klaszin wondered at the carelessness of Gods. Perhaps they had been too long unchallenged in their power to be anything other than thoughtless, but it still surprised him. Klaszin had already killed three lesser Gods, one would think that might create a reaction.
But preferences created patterns. Patterns settled into habits. Habits were difficult to root out.
Well, it was to Klaszin's advantage. He crouched down and two hands of polished marble reached up and lay ahold of his feet and ankles, yanking him forward and through the entryway. To either side loomed massive carved statues of Gonchan, the Keeper of Many Things. All these depicted was a mass of mouths, each open and waiting.
The doors ahead, towering and fortified, strained and then gave away at his approach. Klaszin was a Godbreaker, and barriers, regardless of their craft, would not keep him from his objective. As the doors swung inward, cracking on their hinges, they revealed the room beyond. It was an enormous space, dappled with ornate columns supporting a ceiling hundreds of feet above. The center of the chamber was dominated by a massive pool, bubbling and roiling from the heat of a hundred unseen furnaces below. All along the periphery of the room were shelves and display cases, holding precious gems, artifacts, and other treasures stolen from Humanity.
Klaszin took all of this in but remained focused on the pool. He could feel the portal between worlds deep below, obscured by the waters. He could also sense Gonchan, squirming its way toward the portal.
"Coward!" Klaszin snarled. The marble hands pulled him across the floor and to the pool. He peered down into the clouded depths, pulling mana from his thread to aid his perception. The portal was distant, but not unreachable. Traveling to it through the boiling water would be dangerous, but possible. It was unlikely to make a difference, Gonchan was faster and closer to the portal. Klaszin would not reach it in time.
The Godbreaker frowned, frustrated, as he considered unappealing options.
He would not get another chance at this. This was the time to act. Even if it came at a terrible cost, removing Gonchan from the pantheon would be worth it. Klaszin focused and called a much greater thread of mana through the portal. The torrent rushed into him, coursing through his body and setting his veins on fire. His eyes flared blue, crackles of energy sizzling at the corners. He knelt down, pressing both palms flat against the marble bordering the pool. He could feel the great slabs of it reaching deep into the ground beneath the temple, cradling the pool.
Mana began to flow into those slabs, concentrating on unseen fissures. Precious seconds trickled by before a groan rattled through the temple as the slabs began to crack, releasing the water from the pool through a thousand holes. Steam rose off the roiling water as it swirled away, and Kalszin leapt in, following it down into the rapidly draining cistern.
Klaszin could see portions of Gonchan's massive form appear from the pool as the great beast was tossed around by the rapidly receding water, drawn away from the portal it so desperately sought to reach. Klaszin had studied each of the Gods, but seeing them in person always cemented the nature of his task -- each God was a being of terrible beauty. Gonchan was no different.
According to his scholars, Gonchan was a Hydratic Leviathan. A creature of immense size, far beyond those populating Earth, its natural habitat was the boiling oceans of its own world. It feasted upon almost anything it could reach with its many gaping maws, though it took particular pleasure in objects of worth, particularly those vested with magical properties. The vast shelves in the temple chamber were priceless by any measure but in this place they were reduced to morsel for the God to dine upon at its leisure.
The water continued to drain away, bringing more of Gonchan in the view. Steam billowed in great gouts around it, but Klaszin could see the beast well enough. The center of its mass was an enormous body, mottled brown and oblong. Long, dragging tentacles emerged from it, interspersed with writhing serpentine necks capped with mouths ringed with rows of gnashing teach. On the body itself, a dozen oozing unblinking eyes stared outward at Klaszin as he approached.
[Who are you to stand before a GOD?]
The words rang out in Klaszin, drowning out his thoughts and pushing a compulsion on him to kneel. It was not the first time Klaszin had to contend with God Speak, but it still frayed his nerves. His opened eye saw it for what it was -- a forceful but intricate application of mana -- and pushed the compulsion aside.
Klaszin would not bow before a God.
"I am the Godbreaker," he replied. He brought his hands up into a steeple before him, gathering a mana blade in the small space between them. Then he drew his left hand downward, pulling the now formed blade along with it. It extended outward from his hand by few feet, a shimmering blue pane of energy. He raised his hand beside his head and then swiped it down in a chopping motion. The blue pane of energy released on the downward swing and flew through the air, meeting the fleshy neck of one of the mouths and severing it.
The God squealed, black ichor spraying from the severed mouth.
"You should not have come Gonchan. This is not your world. It is ours." Another blade slashed outward, severing a grasping tentacle in the process of trying to drag Gonchan along the floor of the cistern and toward the portal on the other side. "I am your end."
[I will feast upon you.]
A great gnashing of maws followed the words as multiple heads dove toward Klaszin. Marble hands reached up and lay ahold of Klaszin's feet once again and he slid along the cistern floor in a half crouch, occasionally leaping over the drainage holes he had created earlier. As the mouths darted forward, they were dealt with, the mana blade slicing through each, severing in some cases or carving off great heaps of flesh in others.
Severed heads began to reform, two maws emerging from the oozing stump. With each additional set of mouths, the corpus of the main body shrank slightly, providing substance to form the heads. An ocrean of mana flowed through the God as it sustained its attack. The assault was brutal but simple. Gonchan was a beast and followed its natural tendencies. These were understandable and exploitable.
Klaszin slowly circled the cistern, defending against the head and tentacles as he made his way to the portal. Unlike his own, it was a massive aperture easily a few hundred feet in diameter. As a gate between worlds, Klaszin could not peer beyond its surface, but he could feel the connection to the place beyond. Klaszin wished dearly to move through the portal and wreak vengeance on the world beyond just as Gonchan had done here, but it was not possible. His thread of mana could not follow him there.
All he could do was punish Gonchan for coming here.
Klaszin began to tear at the unprotected edges of the portal, collapsing the rent in the fabric and helping the tear to mend. Gonchan began to emit a keening wail as the portal began to fragment and dissolve. Klaszin had little concept of how Gods formed these portals but he knew creating one was no simple thing even for the Gods. Once lost, they became stranded in this world. Captured.
Klaszin studied Gonchan. Much of its massive body had been fed into new maws. Hundreds of them now swarmed about snapping futilely at Klaszin, who stood beyond their reach.
[FEAST!]
[FEAST!]
[FEAST!]
Gonchan screamed in his mind. Klaszin could feel the rage and hunger in the God. He could also sense the fear. Without the waters, it was growing cold and lethargic. With the new heads it was draining its energy far faster than normal. It needed food. It needed to escape this cold, miserable place.
It would not.
While the heads and tentacles flailed and writhed, Klaszin gathered pushed mana through his body once again, slowly shaping a ball of energy before him. It took some time to form, it was no simple thing to construct a weapon capable of killing a God. Once the ball had reached a sufficient size he began to draw it out, pushing energy into an infinitesimally small point of energy and then flaring out from there into a spearhead.
By the time he was done the mana spear was over two dozen feet long with massive rivulets of power coursing along its length. Dimly, Klaszin could sense the draining tank of mana back through the portal and regretted the cost of the weapon.
But there was nothing to be done.
God hunting was a terribly expensive business.
Klaszin began to feed mana into the propulsion apparatus at the tail of the spear, loading it with enough energy to travel to and through the God. Only when he was absolutely certain he had done enough to complete the task at hand did he release it.
The mana spear shot through the space between him and Gonchan, leaving a brilliant brue streaking afterimage in Klaszin's eyes. It pierced the great corpus of the God and disappeared in, leaving charred flesh at the entrypoint. Moments later Gonchan's body began to pulse blue and white as destructive fire lanced through it, traveling up the necks of the maws and then spraying outward as it was burned from within.
Within moments, the God shuddered and then was dead.
Klaszin stared at the beast, hating it. Centuries had passed with Gonchan weighing upon this land. Countless lives and treasures had disappeared into that being, only for it to demand more. It was the Keeper of Many Things, and it had taken all of them. There was no regaining what had been lost. The mana had been consumed or stored in the world beyond. It would take time for the people of this land to recover.
He let out a long sigh.
Marble hands reached up and lay hold of his feet, pushing him up the cistern and away from the great body of the dead God. Another gone, but so many still remained. Twenty-seven. Less and Greater.
Resjin with Many Hands
Nightstealer.
Onima.
They were all out there, taking from Humanity.
And Klaszin the Godbreaker would kill them all.
Want MOAR peril?
PerilousPlatypus
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2024.05.04 20:17 Flagg1991 Children of the Night (Part 3)

An hour after getting back from the Mason apartment, Bruce Kenner had the distinct misfortune of meeting Bertha Henderson.
A plump, gaudy woman with wrinkles and sun beaten skin only an alligator could love, Bertha Henderson wore bright red lipstick, bright red rouge, and way too much mascara. Her tangled hair was a dull red color and her clothes - pink pants and a white floral top - stretched tight across her bulbous frame. She looked like the kind of woman who lived in a trailer with velvet pictures of Elvis on the wall and pink flamingos in the front yard.
She acted like one too.
From the moment she stormed into his office, she hadn’t shut up once. She scolded, chided, accused, and badgered, sometimes even wagging one fat finger in his face like he was a naughty little boy. Ten minutes into the dressing down and Bruce was beginning to fantasize about police brutality.
It took him another ten minutes to find out what the hell she even wanted.
“It’s my granddaughter,” she shot back, “she’s missing in your town.”
My town? Lady, this is barely my office. I share it with three other people.
“Well, if you’ll calm down, maybe I can help.”
Jesus Christ was that the wrong thing to say. She hit the roof and didn’t come down again until Bruce was this close to arresting her for assault on a police officer. “Young man, I do not appreciate the way you’re talking to me. My tax dollars are the only reason you have a job. If it wasn’t for me, you’d be working at a car wash.”
At least I wouldn’t have to deal with you.
Bruce took a deep breath and held his tongue in check. “How can I help you?” he asked.
“I told you, my granddaughter is missing. If you listened to me, you’d know this already.”
Bertha produced a picture and slid it across the desk. Bruce studied it. A girl, roughly sixteen with black hair, blue eyes, and dimples smiled back at him. “She;’s with that Rossi man, I just know it,” she said bitterly.
“Who?” Bruce asked.
Rolling her eyes like he was stupid, the old woman told him the story. Jessie - the dimple faced girl - had the rotten luck of having to live with Grandma Bertha after her parents went to jail on drug charges. They lived in Sand Lake, a little town in the mountains outside Albany, where Bertha was no doubt loved and admired by all. One day, Jessie, who her grandmother lovingly described as “A little troublemaker”, ran off. Bruce didn’t blame her. He’d known Bertha for half an hour and he wanted to run off. Bertha did some snooping on Jessie’s laptop and found that the “little whore” had been chatting with an older man, Joe Rossi. Rossi, or so Facebook said, lived in Albany and worked at Club Vlad.
“I want him arrested for pedophilia,” Bertha said and crossed her arms defiantly over her chest. “He’s a dog just like all men. She’s probably pregnant already. Another mouth I have to feed.”
Behind the old battle ax, Vanessa appeared in the doorway and lifted her brows as if to say What a piece of work. Knowing her, she’d probably been standing just out of sight this whole time with McKenny, the elderly evidence clerk, and snickering into her hand like a little girl. LOL she called him young man.
Bertha noticed him looking over her shoulder and started to turn. Vanessa’s face went white and she ducked out of the way, narrowly avoiding detection. “I’m glad you think this is funny,” Bertha said to Bruce. “Meanwhile, if I don’t get Jessie back, the state’s going to stop sending me my checks. I need that income. I can’t work, you know. I have gout.”
Too bad being an asshole isn’t a job, you’d be world-famous
“I’ll go talk to him,” Bruce said.
“I want more than talk, young man, I want action.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
When Bertha finally decided to waddle off and ruin someone else’s day, Vanessa came in and sat in the chair the old woman had so recently occupied. “Oh, my God,” she said, “that was intense. I was this close to radioing in a 1015.”
1015 was code for officer down.
“Funny,” Bruce said without a trace of humor. He had kids going missing, a dead guy someone moved around like a goddamn Barbie doll, and now this. What next, hemorrhoids?
“What do you think? Code 1 or code 2?”
Code 1 meant top priority. Code 2 meant not a top priority. Bruce thought for a moment. It didn’t sound like Jessie Henderson was in danger. It sounded like she met a guy - granted, one too old for her - and decided to hide out with him from her psycho grandma. Maybe it could be something more, but he had a gut feeling that it wasn’t…and his gut feelings were usually right. “2,” he finally said. “I got shit to do.”
By shit, he meant “Talk to the families of those missing boys again.” He’d been interviewing them for two days looking for clues, but there was nothing. It’s like they just vanished. Bruce didn’t like this. He didn’t like it at all.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” Vanessa said and slapped the desk.
When she was gone, Bruce sighed.
Never a dull moment, he thought.
***
Ed Harris - no relation to the Hollywood actor - had been the medical examiner for the City of Albany since 2002, and in all that time, he had never seen anything quite like this.
It was Wednesday evening and Ed was locked away in the cold, sterile space beneath the city offices that comprised his domain. With its puke green tiles, harsh lights, and cloying smells of disinfectant, the .coroner's office creeped most people out, but not Ed. He was at home here, as comfortable surrounded by toe-tagged bodies as a cactus was surrounded by desert. A thin man in his fifties with curly, steel gray hair thinning in the middle, he wore a white smock, blood stained over his clothes that made him look like a butcher instead of a low level government functionary. He had a dark and dry sense of humor, but then again, so do all people who play with dead bodies for fun and profit.
The coroner’s office was a vast, utilitarian vault segmented into multiple different rooms. Here, where the magic happened, three stainless steel tables stood in a row; a bank of refrigerated drawers kept watch, making sure nothing funny happened. One of the cold fluorescent lights overhead flickered with a hum of electricity, and water dripped rhythmically from a faucet. It was a cold, eerie place, but to Ed, it was home.
On most nights, only one of the tables was occupied, but tonight, two were. On one lay an old lady who died of what appeared to be cyanide poisoning. On the other was Dominick Mason.
Naked save for a white cloth draped over his groin to protect his dignity, Dom was the most corpsy corpse you’d ever hope to see. In fact, if you looked up dead guy in the dictionary, you’d see a picture of him. His body was pale and sunken, one side covered in purple splotches where his blood had pooled, and his eyes were closed. His abdomen was slightly distended with the expected build up of gas, and his flesh stuck fast to the bones beneath. In other words, he was text book. A normal corpse.
Mostly normal.
As men of his trade are wont to do when strange bodies mysteriously appear, Ed had opened Dom up, making a Y shaped incision from his neck to his groin. He hummed to himself as he did so, his hands wielding his sharp and shiny tools with the deft assuredness of a seasoned surgeon. Done cutting, he dipped his gloved hands into the cavity and started removing organs. A spleen here, a liver there, nothing Dom would miss. When he got to the heart, however, he stopped.
There was something…off…about it. At first glance, it was black and withered like an oversized raisin. An odd and putrid odor emanated from it and though he was familiar with the various smells and stenches the human body produced after death, this wasn’t one of them. Try as he might, he couldn’t place it, couldn’t even compare it to anything. Plucking a magnifying glass from the metal cart next to the table, he peeled back part of Dom’s chest and examined the heart closer.
That’s when things got really weird.
Dominick Mason’s heart was, indeed, shriveled, but it was not black. Instead, it was almost entirely covered by an interlacing crisscross of what appeared to be black mold. Here and there, Ed could glimpse flashes of the heart beneath: It was wrinkled and a sickly gray color. “What is this?” Ed asked himself at length. He grabbed a pair of tweezers from the tray and carefully, very carefully, attempted to remove a piece of the mold for analysis. The moment the cold metal tips touched the heart, it gave a violent spasm that sent Ed falling back with a shocked gasp, the tweezers falling from his hand and clinking to the tiled floor.
The heart began to pulse like an alien egg sac, slowly at first, then more rapidly. For a moment, Ed was frozen in place, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. Once you die, your heart ceases beating. That’s that. Only living hearts beat, and Dominick Mason was certainly dead. He was dead from the moment Ed first laid eyes on him earlier that day and he was dead now. Yet there was his heart, beating anyway.
It could be a muscle spasm. They usually aren’t that violent and consistent, but dead bodies sometimes do strange things. As he watched the blackened muscle expanding and contracting, however, Ed had the most eerie feeling. He went to rub the back of his neck, realized he was still wearing blood soaked gloves, and stripped them off. He was spooking himself out; he needed a break and a hot cup of coffee. He’d come back fresh and start over again.
With that mold.
Could you really blame him for being creeped out? That stuff wasn’t normal. He’d never seen anything like that before, not even in textbooks. Dom was scrawny and didn’t get enough vitamins in life, but overall, he was healthy; that mold…or whatever it was…had no business being there.
Going over to the coffee pot, which stood in the same room to save travel time, Ed grabbed a styrofoam cup. When he was done here, he planned to go home and -
A terrible, metallic clatter rang out, and Ed jumped. He turned around, and when he saw Dominick Mason standing next to the table, hunched slightly over and staring at him, an electric burst of fright shot up his spine and exploded in his brain, so strong it made the edges turn gray. Pale, hands hooked into talons, and the flaps of his chest hanging open to reveal the cavity beneath, Dominick Mason looked for all the world like a boy who’d been caught sneaking out to meet his girlfriend. A weak, involuntary, “Oh, God,” slipped from Ed’s trembling lips, and the spell was broken. Dom came alive and ran toward the door leading out to the parking lot. He slammed through it, and the sound of it crashing open and then falling closed again echoed through the empty chamber.
Shaking, panting for air, and soaked in piss, Ed sank to the floor in a sitting position, his eyes wide and staring like those of a soldier returning damaged from the front.
It was a long time before he composed himself enough to call the police.
***
Dazed and caught in a nightmarish twilight realm where nothing made sense, Dominick Mason limped painfully down the sidewalk, a stranger lost in a strange land filled with danger and hostile creatures. Barefoot and shrouded in a white sheet, he trembled with cold and struggled to ignore the dark, threatening shapes looming from the fog in his brain, shapes that would turn into unspeakable truths if he let them.
Passersby openly stared at him, their expressions either morbidly curious, disgusted, or alarmed. A man put his arm protectively around his girlfriend; a woman pulled her little boy to her breast, and another man sneered at him, his nose crinkling. Dom, his glazed eyes narrowed against the harsh glare of the many street lamps, headlights, and storefronts, lumbered headlong toward nowhere, his fear growing until he was shambling. He imagined he could hear every cough, every whisper; smell the odor of every unwashed body. Each car horn was deafening, every whiff of ass or armpits sent his stomach churning. The rustle of a passing pedestrian’s jacket jammed into his ears like icepicks, and the approaching globes of LED headlamps burned his eyes. He gritted his teeth and groaned against the pain.
The dense mist wrapping his brain made it hard to think. Like a frightened animal, he made his way on instinct alone. Home. He needed to get home. Out here, on the street, he was exposed. At home, locked away in his small apartment, he would be safe.
A car passed in the street, bass heavy rap music blaring from its open windows, and Dom’s brain exploded with agony. He threw himself against a street sign and held on for dear life, his legs weak. Dizziness overwhelmed him, and he almost went down. He was also cold.
So, so cold.
People around him quickened their step; they never took their eyes off him, as though he were a venomous snake that would strike at any moment. He needed to get away from them. They were going to hurt him; people always hurt him.
Pushing away from the sign, he began to hobble once more toward home, wherever home was. He looked over his shoulder several times as he made his way down Central Avenue, and each time, he saw that no one was following him as he had feared.
No one, that is, except for the man in sunglasses.
Tall and lank with curly hair, he wore dark Aviators and a leather motorcycle jacket over a button up shirt. His hands were thrust deep into his pockets and his face showed no expression. He was always there, always a few steps closer. Outside Capital Fried Chicken, a group of people openly stared at him, He heard their whispers as he passed. What’s wrong with him? Dude’s straight tweakin. And the one that struck him the most. That guy looks dead.
Dom hobbled faster, as if to outrun the realization that he was, in fact, dead. The man in sunglasses was closer now, his footsteps so loud that Dom winced. He turned around, and the man was impossibly in front of him. Dom ran into him and bounced backward, going ass over tea kettle and landing on the former. They were in front of a church on a darkened corner, the lights here either burned out or shot out - you could never tell in Albany. Even though it was dark, Dom could see everything with crystal clarity. Dom tried to scurry away, but he was too weak to escape. Right there and then, he decided to give up. Come what may, he just wanted this nightmare to be over.
The man stared down at him, emotionless, unspeaking.
Dom squirmed.
“You’re real lucky I came along,” the man said. His tone was flat, even.
Dead.
“Get up,” he said, “I’ll take you home.”
Home?
Yes.
Dom wanted to go home.
The man helped him up, and Dom followed him into the night.
***
Bruce Kenner stood in the middle of the medical examiner’s office at half past nine that evening with his hands on his hips and stared doubtfully down at Ed Harris. The lonely cavern was alive with activity as cops went over everything, all of them looking either bemused or a mused. Bruce was neither. He’d been at home, sitting in his chair and having a beer in front of AEW Dynamite when Vanessa called. “You might wanna get down here,” she said, sounding confused, “something really strange is going on.”
Ed Harris - no relation to that one guy - sat in a straight back chair beside his cluttered desk and gripped a styrofoam cup of coffee in both hands, putting Bruce - for some reason - in mind of a monkey. When Bruce came in, the old man was white as a sheet and shook like a leaf. In the last half hour, little had changed.
“Tell me again,” Bruce said.
He and Ed were pretty good friends. He knew that Ed knew standard police procedure. Cops don’t ask you to repeat your story a thousand times over because they’re forgetful fucks, they do it because telling it again and again helps to jog loose details that you might have forgotten. Ed, therefore, did not protest. “I turned my back,” he said and chopped the chair like Jackie Chan, “and I heard the noise.”
His voice was thick, unsteady, and halting. He sounded as squirrely as he looked…and he looked pretty damn squirrelly right now.
“I turned around…and he was looking at me. He was standing there and he was looking at me.”
This was the fourth time he’d had Ed go through the story, and nothing had changed. Bruce felt something stirring deep inside his gut. It was either disquiet…or he had to fart. He opened his mouth to speak, but sighed.
“You don’t believe me,” Ed said.
“I dunno, Ed. Dead bodies don’t just get up and walk away.”
Ed flashed. “I know that, goddamn it, but this one did.”
Bruce glanced at Vanessa. She looked uncomfortable.
“Are you sure he was dead?” Bruce asked.
Ed opened his mouth, closed it again, and said, “I did the autopsy.” His voice broke on the last word, and he sounded almost like he was pleading. “His fucking liver’s on the floor. He stepped on it. The man has nothing in him. I-I’m telling you, there’s no way he’s alive.”
During the autopsy, Ed had sat Dominick Mason’s organs on the little tray table where he kept his pointy things. Mason knocked it over while getting up. Indeed, there were human organs on the floor, and one of them did look kind of squished. Bare, bloody footprints led to the exit door, up a set of concrete steps, and then disappeared in the alley behind the office.
“You said you left his heart,” Bruce said.
“And his brain,” Vanessa helpfully added.
Ed pinched the bridge of his nose like a put upon professor dealing with two particularly stupid students. “Even with his heart and his brain, he’s dead. You saw the livor mortis. He was cold, he was stiff. His heart wasn’t beating, he wasn’t breathing. He was in one of those drawers for nine hours, not breathing, no blood flow - it’s impossible. It’s just…it’s impossible. I don’t care what you think, he was dead. And even if somehow he wasn’t, I cut out almost everything. I opened his stomach, I took his spleen - you don’t just get up from that. You don’t walk away from that, much less run.”
Bruce chewed the inside of his bottom lip because he didn’t have a Twix. He didn’t look like the smartest man in the world…and he wasn’t…but he knew a dead body when he saw one, and the body they took out of Dominick Mason’s apartment was D.E.A.D. And like Ed said, even if by some freak fluke of nature he wasn’t, he couldn’t just get up and go about his day with no liver, spleen, or kidneys. Hell, Bruce had his gallbladder out and he couldn’t even walk away from that.
“You said there was something funny about his heart,” Vanessa said.
Ed finished off his coffee. “Yeah. It was…moldy. I-I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Is it possible that…has something to do with it?”
“Unless the rules of biology have changed overnight, no,” Ed stated.
While Ed poured himself another cup of Joe, spilling some because he was still shaking, Vanessa took Bruce aside. “So what do you think?” she asked. “Is he telling the truth?”
For that, Bruce did not have an immediate answer. All else aside, he was a cop. He followed the evidence - and his gut instinct - wherever it led him. Ed was a sober man - he was not a drunk, insane, or stupid - and no man on earth could fake the look of trauma in his eyes. Bruce’s eyes went to the bloody footprints leading away from the exam table and his stomach roiled. It might be cliched, but there had to be a rational explanation. “Yeah,” he finally said. “The kid got up like he said, but there’s no way he was dead. Maybe…I dunno, he had a surge of adrenaline or something. I’m not a doctor.”
“That’ll only get him so far,” Vanessa said. “We’ll probably find him on the street somewhere.”
He went back to the purple splotches on Dom’s face, to his cold stiffness. There’s no way he was dead?
Bruce was confused, and he hated being confused.
“I dunno,” he said, “maybe.”
But he had the gnawing feeling that they wouldn’t. They would never find him…and Bruce would be confused forever.
Goddamn it, Mason, he thought, where are you?
submitted by Flagg1991 to Viidith22 [link] [comments]

2024.05.03 23:29 UsedSwimmer2763 Gout attacks without eating trigger foods

I've had gout attacks for a good 8 years of my life due to my kidney disease. I stopped drinking alcohol 6 years ago and I don't eat seafood or red meat. These foods are always the triggers that I read online or hear from my PCP but if I don't eat them how am I getting flare ups? I can't take naproxen or the traditional gout medications because of my kidney disease so I have to take up to 50mg of prednisone just to help with the pain.
Does anyone have different food triggers than what's known?
Thank you all
submitted by UsedSwimmer2763 to gout [link] [comments]

2024.05.03 20:04 IchibanAlz20 It's been a challenging April to the first week of May and I can't take it anymore

It's been really hard living lately.
I can't open up with people I know because, I'm just not like that.
I've been living alone for more than a year now, and it is challenging doing everything by yourself, I met this beautiful wonderful girl at work, we bonded, we vibed, and we became boyfriend and girlfriend, which made living alone tolerable because she's there, keeping me company, helping me out, I really appreciate that.
But she has this negative side of her, where she can be super sweet to just super cold, I know what I got myself into, I love her and I accepted her like that.
And every time this negative side of her comes out, I always ask myself what did I do wrong, she broke up with me last year, I was crying, asking her to give it another go, she was there beside me just smiling comforting me saying "youll find someone better that me, I promise" That night we made up, maybe out of pitty?
But to start off, let me tell you that this girl is the nicest, most caring and loyal person I've ever met. She didn't hide anything from me, we're an open book to each other.
Back on track, I've been struggling financially, I never asked for help because I know I can handle it. But everything I feel weak, stressed and depressed from all the weight I carry, who should I open up with? My girlfriend right? So I did, and yes she did comforted me and all when she's in the mood, but when the negative side of her takes over, she would blame herself, I ended up comforting my girl, she ended up giving me a cold shoulder, sometimes not meeting me or chatting and all that.
Fast track 2024 April, she got pregnant, I was happy deep inside me, but she was not. We're both adults, but yeah this was an accident to be honest, she told me her being pregnant is the reason why she wanted to break up with me before we hang out, because she told me that she will "break my heart again" because she doesn't want babies but I do. So she wanted to .. you know,
I hated myself for supporting what she wanted, but I did, thinking to myself, Whatever my decision is she would still go through with it. So I never left her side, took care of her while she was healing, and it sucks that I sa my lifeless baby (2 months almost 3) in my hand, it's devastating.
Everything that happened took a toll on my emotionally and financially,
Next thing that happened was actually a good news at first, our incentives increased we can now get 10k a week, so I worked hard because I have 25k bills to pay this includes everything from bills to the apartment.
Man this is a roller coaster, April is almost ending and I'm expecting to get around 20k we had a meeting, they told us that the incentives is not happening anymore because our company has exceeded the clients budget. So, I'm back to square one.
I don't know what to do anymore, I told my girlfriend about all this about the bills I need to pay, she currently doesn't have a job. So it's all me, she stayed in the apartment for a month, while she was healing.
And one if the reason my electric bill is higher than usual is because the AC is always on, I understand that, that's on me, it's hot here in the Philippines.
When I opened up about that, she gave me a cold shoulder, she became too distant, she barely talk to me.
I keep telling her to not blame herself, that's it's my fault actually.
But no words can get through her.
Come May 2024, last week, I got sick, my Gout acting up, I'm in pain, so I decided to go back to parañaque to rest, at least here, I have my mom and my sister., I'm alone in my apartment anyways, and my girlfriend is on her negative side again.
Before leaving the apartment, she came by, I tried to lighten up the mood, I felt like I was able to?
Yes I'm basically limping around because I'm in pain, when I told her, that I will book a ride at their house, she got mad, and walked out on me, yes she cares that much because I'm in pain
So I booked my ride at my apartment, I texted her, thanking her for coming and I said sorry.
Then she texted back and she broke up with me.
Like I said I'm in sick, and I'm in pain, I may have not thought about my reply but I accepted her decision to end it.
And now I'm alone again. God I hate myself.
Sorry about this.
submitted by IchibanAlz20 to OffMyChestPH [link] [comments]

2024.05.03 19:26 Infamous_Librarian72 Gout physician

Pretty sure I have gout. Father has it. Been getting flareups in the same toe for a couple of years with agonizing pain. I hear that just some regular PCPs are not good at diagnosing gout, and I want to make sure I get diagnosed properly and get the medication I need, if that is what it truly is. Anyone have a good PCP that deals with gout? Preferably in McAllen.
submitted by Infamous_Librarian72 to RioGrandeValley [link] [comments]

2024.05.03 17:21 MrsChiliad Father with PKD visiting soon. Diet questions.

Hey guys! PKD runs in my dad’s side, my grandma passed pretty much from complications of it, and my dad has had it for over a decade now. For better or worse it seems the type they have it is slow progressing (by the time it gets bad enough to warrant a transplant they are too old for it). And I should probably get tested myself soon, I know.
Anyway, my dad has recently started blood pressure meds, and from what I know, his disease is between stage 2 and 3. He will be visiting from another country to me here in the US in July and I’d like to have a good idea of his dietary restrictions. The problem is there seems to be so much conflicting info.
I know for sure he needs lower sodium and has a red meat restriction. Shellfish is an absolute no for him, he gets gout, beer also causes him issues. Supposedly beans and excessive amounts of dairy are also to be avoided, and the part that I’m not too sure about: he supposedly can’t have some fish, like salmon, tuna and sardines and should stick mostly to white fish.
That last part is something I never heard before and don’t see any information around this sub on, so it makes me doubtful. Do these restrictions seem to make sense to you guys? I have a feeling the drs he has talked to in Brazil might be going off old info instead of more current research. But obviously I want to be cautious and not make him food that might make his condition worse. At the same time, if this is bad info I’d like to know so that he can also have the least restrictive diet possible and a higher quality of life, not just for when he’s visiting, but for when he’s back home too.
Thanks in advance!
submitted by MrsChiliad to ADPKD [link] [comments]

2024.05.03 15:06 A_Piscean_Dreaming Boomer refuses to follow medical advice

My boomer egg donor was diagnosed with gout, among other issues, in her foot. The GP prescribed her some cream to help ease the symptoms.
Today she's gone back to the doctor about her foot. I asked her if she's been using the cream. She said no.
😖
What does she expect? She seems to think that because she's required medical attention for years, she knows better than the experts. I know that people across all age groups behave this way, but I can't help but feel that this is, more likely than not, common behaviour among boomers.
She ought to think herself lucky that she lives in a country where 90% of healthcare is completely free. If she didn't then I dread to think how much money she'd burn through, simply to get attention, knowing her as I do. I'm annoyed because the 10 minute slot she just took could have been given to someone who actually needed it, someone who would follow the instructions given by the doctor. Not to mention the huge tub of medical cream could have been given to someone who would actually use it 🙄
Has anyone else witnessed boomers refusing to follow medical advice/wasting doctors' time?
EDIT - some replies have mentioned diet. She eats badly and absolutely refuses to cut out the bad and replace it with good. Her idea of eating better is swapping white bread for brown while still gorging on fry ups, other salted/greasy food, and all manner of sweet junk food 🙄😖
submitted by A_Piscean_Dreaming to BoomersBeingFools [link] [comments]

2024.05.02 17:56 Haqgun Molten Strike/Fendzon - Patch #21

Introduction
Molten Strike and Fend both got buffs with the recent patch and both skills feel much better to play overall. Neither build is an optimal mapper and theyve got a few noob traps in them that make both awkward to play through for the first time. While neither are top tier builds ive enjoyed playing both variants both through levelling and mapping. If you enjoy playing different builds this is a great candidate; If you only care about quickly clearing maps and efficiently grinding XP with the top meta builds this isn't the build for you.
My goal is to keep things organized and readable while still being detailed. This is going to be my findings through what Ive played and what I have (and haven't) found success with:
~~~~~~~~Skills~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fend I have nothing special to add here, Fend got buffed with patch #21 to now grant IAS per level. This change makes a huge difference in how the skill feels to use, making the skill overall feel a lot smoother to use with non-endgame gear.
Molten Strike Molten Strike is a weird skill. Its a damage converting skill with a flat fire component added on. Each ball Molten Strike creates on hit deals 85% of your weapons damage while converting 60% of that to fire. The strange part about it (as of writing this guide) is that the damage conversion doesn't apply until after enemy resists are taken into account. This means the skill will only deal its flat fire damage to physical immune enemies until you break their immunity. I assume this isnt intended and it leads to some extra hurdles to jump through with gear but ill go over that later. Each ball from Molten Strike can individually proc on-striking effects; on-attack procs will only go off on weapon swing against any given target. For Fendzon its an important part of the build as it allows for dealing with physical immune enemies without relying on your allies or merc. As its own build Molten Strike relies heavily on weapons with strong on-striking procs; This means Molten Strike is a much more expensive build, relying heavily on expensive runewords when compared to Fend.
The skills for either variant of this build are weird. Jab doesnt feel like a good place to put points now that Fend gives IAS per level; Since you only ever have 40 points of main skills + synergies that leaves a ton of points available for passives. The unfortunate part starts to be noticed when you look at the scaling of any skill the build uses. Almost all Passive and Magic skills don't scale well enough to justify maxxing; The lack of scaling leads to a lot of confusion on where to put skill points and is mostly up to personal preference so ill give some insight Ive found on each:
Inner Sight A solid but underwhelming skill. While levelling its what i put points into after maxxing Fend and Molten Strike. Its a good amount of defense reduction which does start to help out a lot with hit chance going into hell. Once you have endgame gear it falls off in its overall usefulness which makes it a fairly disappointing skill to invest into.
Lethal Strike This is a good passive, granting a solid amount of critical strike chance which for almost any amazon build is great. As with most of the other passives its scaling at higher levels starts to fall off but of the passives its not the worst one to invest into.
Phase Run Phase run is a difficult skill. Granting a flat 30% Faster Run/Walk and Faster Hit recovery is an amazing skill to use on any Spearzon variant. Being a Passive and Magic skill its scaling makes it feel like a bad choice to invest into. I only ever put 1 point into the skill, the uptime does get better as the level gets higher but not at a rate that i felt was worth the investment so i just keep track of when I need to recast it. In spite of the poor scaling and being a clunky skill to use at low skill levels its an incredibly important skill for mapping because of the stats it grants.
Dodge/Avoid/Evade This is where the first noob trap comes in; 1 point in each dodge passive isn't enough to enable this build to succeed in the endgame. The lack of a shield with this build means you need to make up a lot of different stats you would normally have easy access to in a javelin build, block chance is one of them. Dodge overall is much stronger than block, no longer having dodge frames is a massive strength of these passive over blocking, though you cant get as high dodge chance as you could block. 7 hard points in each gets you to around 30-35% dodge (with +skills from charms/gear) which is a massive difference from the ~14% from 1 hard point. This ends up being an absolutely MASSIVE amount of survivability, to the point that without the ~30% dodge chance the build feels incredibly difficult to play.
Penetrate Nothing special here, worth a single point and has ok scaling but another very underwhelming passive skill.
Valkyrie This is ultimately where i ended up putting most of my remaining skill points. Valks have Fend as a synergy which helps its damage out a decent amount though sadly uses the lightning spear skills. Theyre nice enough tanks and aggro sponges for maps and can handle most base-game areas reasonably well. Level 27 Valkyrie is the last notable level as its when they get rare tiaras but this isn't important and not worth chasing.
~~~~~~~~Gear~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Getting the right gear is the most difficult part of playing a Molten Strike/Fendzon. Due to the lack of a shield, gap closing ability and being a melee build you need to make up a lot of key stats which ends up being at the costs of other QOL stats. Stats should generally always be just enough to equip your gear and the rest in vitality which is why I don't have a section on them.
~~Levelling~~ Malice/Strength/Steel runewords in any decent spear base you can find will keep you going for a while. Obedience in an Amazon SpeaKelpies Snare/Lycanders Flank are all great options that will get you through the game, all around level 42
Hearth helm was a great option early, granting Cannot Be Frozen. Unique Helms like Duskdeep/RockstoppePeasant Crown/Stealskull are all good options if available.
Stealth armor is the easy choice early on but swapping to Hustle when possible is ideal. Twitchthroe/Spirit Shroud are both great budget armor options
Bloodfist/Lava Gout are really the only budget glove options id recommend, they're common and cheap on trade and absolutely amazing until you get to endgame.
Any blue/rare belt with resists, FHR and/or life will be great. Blood belts are great but unreliable. Bladebuckle is the best budget option if you cant find a good rare/crafted belt.
30+ FRW/res blue/rare boots will be great early. Sanders or Cow Kings boots are also the only ones id really recommend, high FRW with some added stats and utility though any high FRW boots with useful stats will be good.
For jewelry, anything that gives resists or life or mana leech are gonna be great early on. Raven Frost and Carrion wind are both reasonably cheap on trade and are actually the two rings im going to recommend later on for endgame. Mahim-Oak or Saracens are great budget options if you can find them on trade, if not a crafted Scintillating amulet will be very solid until you can find a better option.
~~Endgame~~ Once you start getting to mapping you will want to aim for as close to the following stats as possible:
50% Damage Reduction 75% All Res 86% Faster Hit Recovery (56% with Phase Run Active)
alongside those you'll want all the usual melee stats as high as you can reasonably get them: Damage Life Leech FRW
~Weapons
a Breath of the Dying War Pike is the cheapest and best option for both Molten Strike and Fend. The amount of damage, IAS, dual leech and stats it gives is basically unbeatable as far as spears go. Unfortunately as of writing other options like Stoneraven and Steel Pillar aren't nearly strong enough to content against eBotD, even with max sockets and runes; They're good options for getting into mapping but neither will come anywhere close to the strength of eBotD.
Phoenix in a Matriarchal Spear has been a genuinely good option for Molten Strike. A strong and consistent on-striking proc, redemption, nice enhanced damage, Ignores Target Defense and fire pierce all on a single item have made it so far the best option Ive used for group and solo mapping.
Destruction is an option Ive been looking to play around with but haven't as of writing this gotten the runes to be able to make one.
As for other proc-based Molten Strike options there unfortunately arent many outside Phoenix; Rift is awful do not use Rift. The main proc damage from Rift comes from its on-attack Frozen Orb proc which doesnt play as nicely with Molten Strike as it does with Fend and the rest of the stats on Rift just make it a waste of runes.
~Helms Crown of Ages has (unfortunately) been the best and most accessible option for helms. Notably giving up to 30 all resists and 15% Damage Reduction and 30% FHR with 2 sockets its the most well rounded and cheapest option Ive found. Best in Slot would probably be a 3 socketed Vampire Gaze with 3 15IAS/15 All Resist Jewels but because this is my main build this season I cant afford one to say for sure.
~Armor
a 4 socketed Leviathan with Um runes is what Ive been using. Leviathan gives good DR and compared to Shaftstop is much cheaper while still allowing for 50% DR 4 socketed Shaftstop with Um runes is probably best in slot but again because this is my main build Im too poor to afford one
Fortitude is (in my opinion) the other big noob trap of this build. Not giving any DR and only half the required all resist from the armor makes you uncomfortably squishy in the endgame. Your damage with eBotD is already so high that pushing it higher with Fortitude feels like a waste when compared to what you give up.
~Gloves Laying of Hands is the cheapest and easiest option overall. 20IAS with fire resist and damage. Steelrends being buffed makes them a genuinely good option if you're already close to the steep 184 strength requirement; Using Leviathan and a 3 socketed Vampire Gaze makes these the best glove option overall.
~Belt Verdungos or String of Ears are the two best options here. DR and either vitality or life leech are just very strong stats. Nosferatu's coil with an IAS corruption is an option but its very niche.
~Boots Boot options are fairly underwhelming for this build. War Travelers are overall the best but really any good pair would work. Ive used Natalya's, Aldurs, Gore Riders, Sanders, Cow Kings and Immortal Kings, none of them stand out as noticeably better but the 40FRW boots were definitely a big help.
~Jewelry
Atmas Scarab is from what ive found the only good amulet option. Because Molten Strike is both bugged and a very good proc skill it means that you can break physical immunes very very quickly with the otherwise disappointing Atmas proc. The -100% physical resist from Amplify Damage is a huge damage boost to Molten Strike (I feel like an idiot typing this but this is just the reality of the situation) and Fend.
Raven Frost and Carrion Wind have been very good as long as Ive been using them. Carrion Wind's Twister procs happen frequently and are great for stunning scary enemies like Blood Lords before you can get an Amp proc off.
~Charms With my gear Im using a mixture of Passive and Magic skillers, all resist grand charms and max damage/attack rating grand charms. Torch and Anni when possible are nice as always. Mainly you want to use your charm slots to fill out stats you need so FHresist/FRW grand charms are also good options depending on what gear you have.
~Mercenaries Ive found the most success with two different mercs depending on which skill Im using:
--Act 1 with a Mist bow was amazing for eBotD Fend, completely fixing any attack rating issues i had while giving a nice damage buff. Paired with a Hearth helm and Fortitude the merc was great for general crowd control and clearing the few unbreakable physical/fire dual immunes that came up
--Act 5 with Silence or Plague has been great for Phoenix Molten Strike, Cleansing is super helpful for most builds and the free Might aura offset the damage lost from using Phoenix; Plague will overwrite Atmas Amp proc when it goes off which is important to keep in mind.
~~~~~~~~Gameplay~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
For mapping ive always avoided any map that has +Damage, Conviction or any attack rating increasing aura (Precision, Blessed Aim, Concentration) or Decrepify procs. As of writing i never run any Plateau maps due to the surplus of Oblivion Knights, un-leechable Skeleton Archers and mana draining Specters. Because the build is naturally dual element (kind of) you don't really need to worry about stuff like physical/fire absorb or resist.
For Ubers/DClone I haven't tried either with this build.
~~~~~~~~Summary~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Overall this build has a lot of room to grow. It works once you get your bearings and figure out how everything works and what you need to succeed but it can be a struggle before then. Ive enjoyed the time spent working on getting it to work and mapping with it. Hopefully in the future unique spears in general get a much needed buff and the skill issues this build has get sorted out. As of now its a fine build to run if you're not worried about efficiency and don't mind playing a normal melee build.
https://pathofdiablo.com/p/armory/?name=Pokeypokestab
submitted by Haqgun to pathofdiablo [link] [comments]

2024.05.02 09:01 Obvious_Nature_9583 My list (trade)

.Get it together samson
.Samba yo pran pale and me remix
.All i got adam port
Virgil instrumental
.Passion fruit remix
.A keeper mont rouge edit
.Can soleil drake
.A keeper drake keinemusik
.Drake one dance darren remix
.Drake calling my name remix
.Gypsy woman other released
.Adam ten oxytocin
.Adam ten magic citcus
.Anchor point aneme
.Amana vision
.Route 94 alex wann
.7 seconds del capo
.Amor amor alex twin
.&me homelands
.Belsunce
.All i got
.Les gouts kodd remix
.One dance denis desero remix
.One dance Deni remix
.Adventure of muye remix
.Little things mattia antonazzo
.Relax my eyes velvet remix
.Waiting for tonight afromix
.The color violet remix
.Sweet disposition vxsion remix
.Famax jerak remix
.daughter of the sun
.minha preca soldera
.Father stretch
.Queimar
.Ah ya albi
.Ray of sun
.Kilosa
.Salma ya salama maurra remix
.Slaves and me remix
.Terra de saudade
.True story liva K
.Montrouge kilosa
submitted by Obvious_Nature_9583 to unreleasedIDdeephouse [link] [comments]

2024.05.02 07:10 mickeyaaaa 10 days in, weight dropping but feel horrible

Lethargic, tired, grumpy, brain fog, wake up with a dull headache that lasts hours.
Started210/Current204/Goal175 5'10 M 50yr. Doing 8/16 IF
wt loss for Hypertension and gout and overall health/longevity are my drivers.
Eating enough food i think (I loathe calorie tracker apps - that's a whole other discussion tho) - breakfast usually 1 cups (measured dry) whole rolled oats with 1 cup blueberries & a banana no refined sugar usually. no snacks just not hungry until supper. today was pretty typical: about 1.5 cups froz veggies, 1.5 cups cooked brown rice, and 1/2 brick of tofu, maybe 1 tbsp oil & spices. I have a moderately active job but some sedentary office days also, and I work out full body workout 2-3 hrs every 4th day. Seem to be maintaining my strength, but i just have very little energy most of the time. no energy for cardio which i really really would like to be doing. Also my sleep cycle is all f-ed up. not snacking at night I know its good for me but dam my body gets all ramped up, overheating, anxious - really fighting hunger going to bed. then in the morning my gut so upset and i have to wait for my fast to end to eat. repeat. Im patient and hoping it will sort itself out. Seems like a circadian rhythm thing maybe?
When I ate my "normal" way - typically light or skip breakfast, small late lunch, larger dinner and a snack at night (giving up television at night helped stop late night snacking - that was for chronic insomnia thing though). but at least I had a lot more energy during the day...
Anyone else struggle like this?
submitted by mickeyaaaa to intermittentfasting [link] [comments]

2024.05.01 23:31 Ralts_Bloodthorne Nova Wars - Chapter 55

[First Contact] [Dark Ages] [First] [Prev] [Next] [wiki]
Why were the Bag Lanaktallan so different from the Great Herd that remained on the outside? That’s an easy question to answer…
TerraSol.
You see, Earth isn’t the way it is because it is the Cradle of the Mad Lemurs…the Lemurs are Mad because of Earth: there’s no other place even remotely like it, because the Malevolent Universe isn’t Stupid or Sadistic enough to make a second one.
Humanity twists and changes everything that it touches, but Humanity isn’t the culprit…only the catalyst for Mother TerraSol’s Will (a fact to which every Confederacy Race will attest) in execution of the Malevolent Universe’s Grand Plan…
…or perhaps not.
Regardless, the Lanaktallan, Tunvaru, Telkan, and other races that were on Earth changed more in their fifty-two years of confinement than the same races on the outside did in forty-thousand.
They went Native, and though they may not be Humans, they were Terrans all the same…and that became everyone else’s problem. – Lanaktallan Philosopher Moo’rto’kno, Confederacy Cultural Anthropologist, “Re-Engineered: The Culture Bomb of the Repatriating Terran Diaspora and the SUDS Flood.” Lanaktallan Great Galloping Press, 49231 (Confederacy Reckoning)
Wrixet was all by himself but he wasn't alone.
The lead creature, mouth full of fangs, drooling red glowing liquid, snarled and jumped forward from where it was crouched down on all fours.
"FIGHT FOR YOUR LIFE, TELK!" he bellowed you, stepping into the leap, swinging from the hips. The grav-fist hit the charcoal skin and the creature's head and shoulders exploded into burning chunks of charcoal that reminded Wrixet of BBQ briquettes.
The body of the creature flew back, shattered from the increased kinetic force amplified by the grav-fist, briquettes raining down into the mass of creatures in the interlock zone transition chamber.
The others all screeched and charged. Some leaping, some jumping onto the walls, digging in their claws to scamper forward, others jumping to the ceiling and bounding along it.
They swarmed out.
Wrixet parried claws with his forearm and upper left arm and answered with punches, open hand smacks, backhands, elbows, and forearms. When he had to, he kicked out, his boots shattering the charcoal. Each wound brought forth a gout of red energy that tore at his nerves, made him feel like he was being shockprodded by...
by...
...by Lawsec in their armor and uniforms, laughing at him as they shockprodded him again, on the ground, trying to crawl away from the boots and the prod.
The rage welled up inside of him and he roared back into their faces as he answered their screeching with punches and kicks. He slammed the grav-fist into bodies, shattering them, into faces, destroying their skulls, into their arms or legs, ripping them free.
The red energy ripped at his nerves and he bellowed his rage back.
They still got by him. The airlock was built for the big insects to be able to use.
One Telkan brawler couldn't hold it.
He hit with everything he had, repeatedly, knocking them back and forth. A punch to the face or the lower midsection shattered them into briquettes. The spikes weren't just for looks, when a punch or a grab and twist ripped them away thanks to the grav-fist, reddish energy poured out and they screamed, trying to reach the base of the now missing spike.
He could hear the roaring of the cutting bars behind him and knew that D44 and Naxen would handle any that by him as he stepped all the way into the doorway. It was a short passage, doors on each side, an additional airlock to protect the ship in the interlock zone was compromised.
They could only come at him a few at a time. Screaming and screeching, clawing at him.
His armor was scored, slashed, gouged, but he kept swinging, kept fighting.
"Wrix, we gotta run, Telk," Naxen yelled out as Wrixet backhanded the face off of one and it crumpled to ash.
"GET OUT!" Wrixet yelled. "Run!"
"Not without you!" D44, Imna called out.
"GET OUT!" Wrixet turned and threw a hard punch, driving the thing against the black metal of the airlock wall. It shattered, coals and red energy that lashed at him.
"We'll be at the computing core!" Naxen shouted.
Wrixet didn't answer, ducking under a sword blade and coming up to shatter the creature's chest with a punch.
Bob, weave, strike, bob, strike strike strike, weave, bob, strike.
He was kicking burning coals out of the way with every step. Every punch sent coals showering through the airlock to bounce off the walls, the ceiling, the floor.
The HUD in his visor was showing his upper left arm pauldron as yellow, his shoulder gardbrace was yellow, his rerebrace bright amber. His chest plate was still green, edged out of blue, but the grav-fist was blue and the power level was stable.
The air in his armor hissed and he could suddenly breathe easier, the HUD displaying "O2 INJECTION UNDERWAY" in the upper right. He was still sweating, his whole body feeling like it was slicked with sweat.
None of that mattered as he kept swinging, kept holding the hallway.
They were still getting by him, but in less numbers.
He planted his feet, part of his mind imagining that his feet were tree trunks, that he had roots sinking deep into the ground as he kept swinging.
One breathed fire at him and he got his arms up, crossed in an X, protecting his visor. When it stopped he reached forward, slapping its jaw shut with a hard open handed slap. The creature's head broke free and it collapsed into chunks of smoldering coals.
"I'm going to close the door!" Emry's voice was far away, tinny, barely heard.
Wrixet just backed up, steadily, still swinging. His shoulders were starting to ache, the nerves across his chest, his abdomen, the front of his thighs were burning like he'd been splashed with molten metal.
He pushed it away.
He could hear the Lawsec patrolmen laughing at him as they kicked him, his school satchel spilled open, books having fallen out.
One tried to leap over him and he punched upwards, jumping slightly.
The grav-fist shattered its body.
"Telk thinks he's gonna be something with them books," one of the Lawsec laughed, kicking his math book into the gutter.
Another tried to go by, low and fast, but a kick to the side slammed in against the wall and he drove the grav-fist against the back of its head even as he shifted and lifted his left arm to take the hits from the other two, which were getting in each other's way, against his upper arm's armor.
"Gonna be special, Telk?" another laughed, putting a toe on the screen of his school dataslate and leaning on it. The cheap macroplas cracked and broke.
He took two steps back and more flooded toward him. A kick disabused the leader of any notion he was giving up, the boot shattering its skull.
They all laughed at him as one began urinating on the ground, the liquid splashing his swollen and bruised face.
He was out of the entryway, still swinging.
"Lick that up, Telk," one of the Lawsec laughed.
He started to step back in, screaming against the visor. Lift the shoulder, take the hit on the pauldron, line drive into the face, feel them crumble. Backhand, tear the face and front of the head off, feel them crumble, drive the forearm forward, bent at the elbow, shatter the torso, kick the coals away.
"DROPPING THE BLAST DOOR!" Emry yelled out.
The door thudded down and Wrixet hit it with the grav-fist, the punch suddenly intersected by the door instead of impacting the screeching face.
"Run, Wrixet," Emry said. "We have four more ships locking into the docking rings."
He turned at the waist, smashing aside a screeching creature that had been raking at his back. A step forward and kicking one into chunks of charcoal. Smash down with the elbow, ignore the beeping and HUD warning as it goes red, shatter the body.
The hallway was clear and he looked around.
Wrixet suddenly realized he didn't know which way to go.
"I'm lost," Wrixet said.
"Go straight," Emry said.
Wrixet took off running, following directions.
At one point he heard screeches in the reddish darkness.
More screeches came back.
The burning feeling was setting into his bones, having chewed through the muscle. It was in his abdomen, filling his guts full of gnawing and chewing fireants. It was in his brain, bringing up every single time he had been beaten, spit on, knocked around, robbed.
A creature reared up, swiping at him. He bobbed underneath and came up inside of its reach. The smashing blow from the grav-fist shattered its head.
The energy washed over him as he killed two more in rapid succession.
He was six again. Coming home from school on the public tram. His school uniform was old, a handmedown his mother had bought at a used clothing store, but it was clean, repaired, and lovingly pressed.
Two more jumped him. The first he shattered with a single blow.
The second he pinned against the wall, his hand open, the grav-fist snarling as he pressed its spiked head against the wall.
He started driving his fist into its midsection, answering its screeches with bellows of his own.
The Lawsec got on. They moved down, making people put their hands on the scanner. They reached one. One laughed, knocking his school cap off. Another grabbed at his satchel. He tried to hold on, crying out, confused.
He ran forward and slammed a shoulder against four of them, crushing them against the bulkhead, roaring at them, punching punching punching
Lawsec were supposed to be his friend. That's what they said in school. He didn't understand. What did he do wrong? He was a good Telkani. He got good grades. The teacher said he was smart and worked hard. His mom said he was a good Telkani.
One tried to run and he followed it, his boots thudding against the deckplate as he gave a howling cry back. A shade swept out of the wall and he shattered it with a negligent swing of his arm, the protoplasm coating his armor and steaming as the icy cold gel hit the hot plates of his armor.
They rooted through his satchel. One took the dataslate, showed it to the other. They were all laughing.
It screeched and he bellowed back, catching up to it. He was faster than even a Telkana at short distances.
The other Telkan looked away. Why wouldn't they help? Why were the Lawsec mad at him? What did he do wrong?
He tackled the running one, taking it to the ground, bouncing through a cluster of them that were exiting an interlock zone airlock. He was kicking, punching, smacking, beating his face against theirs as he screamed back into their faces.
The Lawsec bent his datapad like teacher said not to, all of them laughing harder. He could see the quiz he took with the "GOOD JOB! A+! DOING GOOD!" on the screen.
He grabbed spikes on the back of a big one, pulling himself to his feet, ignoring the pain, and slammed two hammerblows with the grav-fist into its back. It screamed and he bellowed back.
There was an older Telkana next to the window across from him. Old like momma. He looked at her, staring to cry, wondering why she wasn't helping him. Isn't that what mamma's did?
He turned and punched another out of the way, grabbing the second one by the horns and pounding his face against its face, screaming back.
The old Telkana looked away, out the window.
One raked talons across his chest. He slammed the grav-fist into the elbow and the arm turned to smoldering chunks.
Why wouldn't she help him?
He stepped forward again, punching, slapping, kicking. He was in a warped hallway, the black metal of the hallway curved and ribbed strangely, with burning runes everywhere and chains hanging from the ceiling. Two ran at him and he charged them, both flinching back at his sudden bellowing charge.
One of the Lawsec grabbed his ear and twisted. He started crying harder, pawing at the arm of the hand twisting his ear.
He grabbed a chain and used the grav-fist to yank it free. Three more creatures were staring at him as he wrapped it around his forearm, the HUD showing it bright amber with strobing lines outlining it.
The dataslate broke with a loud snap, blue smoke wafting up, chunks of macroplas flying free.
He roared and charged.
One ran.
He slammed into the other two, kicking one apart, grabbing the other and slamming it face first into the wall, punching the back of its head.
It crumbled.
The Lawsec laughed.
He turned and kicked on out of the way, grabbing the other by the horns with both hands. He screamed back at it as he wrenched the horns apart.
Its skull split in two and it fell into burning chunks.
One of the Telkani across from him, that he knew from homeroom, jumped up and pushed at the Lawsec. "Stop, your hurting him. Hurting is wrong!"
A group rushed by behind him and he spun and followed them. He grabbed the slowest by the ankle, yanking it back, punching it where the legs met the body, throwing the crumbling chunks aside. The grav-fist was snarling, sparking, the leading edge of energy burning red.
One of the Lawsec laughed, grabbing the other Telkani, holding him while another slapped him.
Two turned to face him. He slapped one into charcoal and shoulder blocked the other, driving it against the wall. He slammed the grav-fist twice against its head before it was nothing more than crumbled coals.
"Stop hitting! Hitting is wrong!" he sobbed/yelled.
One tried to get away and he held it, punching at it, even as it scrabbled to get away. He didn't care.
The Lawsec pulled them off the tram, into the rainy street, laughing as they slapped and punched him and the other Telkani.
He blocked a set of jaws with the chain wrapped around his arm and slammed it agianst the wall. The jaw broke off and it crumbled to coals.
The tram drove away.
They ran through the interlock, into the ship. He followed, killing the ones that turned to face him.
They kicked and laughed in the rain, their heavy boots slamming into the two little Telkani's bodies.
They piled into another group.
He charged in, swinging, cursing, bellowing, screaming. He could taste blood, taste copper, feel something inside of him screaming to get out.
The Lawsec left the two boys crumpled on the sidewalk.
More piled in but he didn't care. He could feel their claws raking at the armor. The armor was howling that the kinetic gel was running low, he was going to have armor breaches, integrity was dropping, power was dropping.
He didn't care.
A Telkana came up. Older, like his sister, with glitter on her face. He held his arms out to her, sobs pleading with her to help him. She knelt down next to him, between him and the other Telkani.
He slammed one repeatedly against the wall until it crumbled, then looked around for more.
She patted them down. Took his school-link. Took the other one's. Put them in her pocket.
He heard their screeching further in and roared back, charging toward the screaming. The ants, the pain, the burning licking acid pain, had sunk into his bone marrow, had sunk into his brain. It pumped through his veins with his blood.
She stood up and walked away.
Some were scrabbling at a door, ripping a hole larger while singular ones twisted and writhed through it.
The two Telkani lay on the pavement sobbing in the rain. He got up, wiping away his tears angrily. He held his hand out to the other one. "Get up." The other one reached up and he pulled the other Telkani to his feet.
He hit at a charge, crushing one into coals, the others scattering. He slapped and kicked and punched. One was halfway through the gap and he drove the grav-fist down in a hammerblow into its back. The edge of the gap cut it in half and it fell into coals.
"Naxen. Sunny Meadows Hab, level 68," the other boy said.
He snapped the spike off of one's back and drove it through the head of another.
"Wrixet. Level 52."
The door slowly opened. There were dozens of them inside, all screaming, all lunging forward, all attacking the small group in the corner of the room. The servers beyond the clear macroplas were all lit up, all blinking.
The two boys put their arms around each other's shoulders and staggered into the rainy overcast afternoon.
He could see Imna swinging her cutting bar with both hands, desperately trying to keep the things back.
He screamed at them, charging.
They scattered like pins, tumbling and falling. He kicked and stomped, throwing a fist or a forearm into any that got up. He got next to Imna, clenching his hands together, lifting them over his head, and slamming his clenched fists onto any that close.
The grav-fist sputtered.
His armor retracted the faceplate and was suddenly heavy on his limbs.
He didn't care.
One broke free and tried to run as Imna hacked on the other remaining one.
Wrixet chased it as it bounded toward the far door.
Dozens more poured through another door.
Wrixet backed up, smacking the nearest ones.
Flames enveloped the one that had bounded through the far doorway. It collapsed in a burning heap, pink and white flames consuming it.
Emry was against the wall, his eyes wide.
Wrixet was shoulder to shoulder with Imna, who had lost her shield and was hacking with both hands.
Something looped over the creatures, that were crawling on top of one another in their eagerness to reach the two Telkan.
It bounced twice.
"GRENADE!" Emry yelled.
It beeped, magnetic systems oriented it so it stood on one pointed end. It flashed pink.
A hexagonal barrier appeared.
Flames covered the other side of the barrier.
Wrixet sagged slightly and looked at Imna.
"Where's Naxen?" he asked.
Imna's faceplate opened.
Her face was streaked with tears.
She pointed down, behind them, between them and Emry.
Wrixet turned and looked.
Naxen was on the floor. His guts were spread out. One leg was at least a meter away.
Wrixet went down on his knees, pulling his friend into his lap. He pulled open Naxen's faceshield.
Naxen was staring into eternity, panting, breathing fast, the Bliss carrying him off.
"No, no, no," Wrixet said. "No, don't leave me. Don't leave me, Telk."
Naxen was breathing faster and shallower.
"No, no, no," Wrixet sobbed, tears falling on Naxen's face. "No, please don't leave me."
Imna knelt next to him, putting her hands on his shoulder and resting her helmeted foreheard against his scarred and gouged shoulder pauldron.
Naxen's breath was hitching. Shallow, fast, hitching. His pupils were dilated. His tongue flicked out and wetted his cracked and bleeding lips.
"No, please, don't go. Don't leave me," Wrixet sobbed.
Naxen stopped breathing.
[First Contact] [Dark Ages] [First] [Prev] [Next] [wiki]
submitted by Ralts_Bloodthorne to HFY [link] [comments]

2024.05.01 22:19 AccurateMud6591 DM FOR TRADES

My list, dm if anything of interest:
Badbwoy x Hoodia - Veneno.
virgina beach - david mackay
moblack - good energy
4A - Adam Ten - Magic Circus
Africa (Rampa Remix) - Toto
JAMSTER, Lando - Wade in the Water
Travis Scott - Butterfly Effect (&ME Remix) .wav
! Tyla - Water (Yaacov Remix).wav
DALIDA - SALAMA (Mont Rouge RMX).wav
Justin Bieber, &friends - Where Are Ü Now (&friends remix).wav
Moeaike - Bo Bom (Original Mix).wav
Vidojean X Oliver Loenn - Satisfaction Afro V.2
Yamê Bécane (Kimotion X Quentro & Tuna Remix).wav
Amanda Magalhaaes - O Amor Te Da(VXSION Sone. Remix).wav
Bakka (BR), Berimbouse - A Hora e_ Agora Ft. Rafa - 5A - 122.wav
Emoriô [Sounds Huge V1 24_44].wav
Maz (BR) & Antdot - Run.mp3
MINHA-PRECE-v3-3-pre-mix_mastr.wav
Wena - Maz Remix.wav
Quentin Harris - Warning (Adam Ten & Mita Gami Re-Edit)Master.wav
ADELPHI MUSIC FACTORY - RISE AGAIN [BF006] (320 kbps)
Maz, VXSION & Mayra Andrade - Amana x Afeto (TWINS Edit).mp3
Moojo - It's not right, It's Okay.wav
Mika - Relax, Take It Easy (Arthur Miro Afro House Edit).wav
Rockin Moroccin - All that she want's.wav
Volare_(Original_Mix).wav
Jorja Smith - Little Things (Peace Control Remix).wav
Lexx (BE) - Glory (Original Mix).wav
By Myself - Chris IDH, Adam Port & Adassiya .wav
Arodes & Fahlberg - She Asked Me To Dance.wav
Nightcall Arodes Martim Rola.wav
Moojo , Carlita - Havana MASTER.wav
Moojo ft Gabsy - Ze Roberto v final.wav
Manuel Riva X Eneli - Don't Wanna Open My Eyes (Andrew Dum Remix) [original mix].wav
Fatboy Slim - Right Here, Right Now (Soubeiran Remix).wav
Bobby Caldwell - Do For Love (Victhor Remix).mp3
Curol - Deixa Fluir (Original Mix).wav
Need To Feel Loved (Dee Elji & MAHA Afro House Edit).wav
Red Carpet - Alright (Dee Elji Afro House Edit).wav
Franc Fala - Franc Fala - MoBlack, Benja - Yamore.wav
KP, Envyi - Swing My Way (Moojo Edit).mp3
Cant Get Enough (Iker Fox, Ash Remix).wav
Andruss - Frikitona (Maesic Remix).wav
Solomun - Never Sleep Again (Keinemusik Remix).flac
Ah Ya Alby (Ajna & Samm Edit).wav
True Story - Liva K.wav
PEATY - Ouda (Extended Mix)_MST1.wav
4A - 123 - Axwell Ingrosso - More Than You Know (Mont Rouge Remix) [UMC (Universal Music Catalogue)].mp3
12A 123 Love Lockdown (Matt Sawyer vs Sasson Edit) V5 ext (1).wav
A Kele Nta (&Friends Remix).
Ella Elle L'a (Rampa Remix) - France Gal.wav
ESTELLE - AMERICAN BOY (BETICAL EDIT).aiff
guapo & peaty - 6pm in casablanca.wav
Jaymes Young - Infinity (MEEDNIGHT SUN & koshi Remix).mp3
KIMOTION - PUMP UP THE JAM.aif
Makèz & Life On Planets - Downstream (Lazare Remix).mp3
Moojo x Marina Satti - Giant.wav
War Cry (KARNAAK _Somebody That I Used to Know_ Edit).mp3
! Black Coffee-Your Eyes ft.Shekhinah (DJ Drift Franklyn Remix).wav
! Bob Sinclar World Hold on Soubeiran & Sasson Remix.wav
! SHIK SHAK SHOK (master 2).wav
!Classy 101 (Maz, Vxsion Edit).mp3
01 The Rapture Pt.III x Yebba's Heartbreak v.2.wav
2A 122 Give It 2 Me (Moon J remix final).mp3
10A - 122 - Stromae - Papaoutai (Francis Mercier Remix).wav
11A - COCO, JOEZI, PAPE DIOUF - 7 SECONDS (MOOJO REMIX) 120.MP3
Abdel Kader (RMX).wav
Ajna - Move.wav
Chaleee & Marco Pex - Your Hands (Original Mix) [m].wav
Chris Baker - Ride (Mind Against Remix).aiff
Coolio_-_Gangsta_Paradise_Moojo_Edit.mp3
Drake - Finesse (Antdot Remix).wav
Drake - Passion Fruit (Drega remix).mp3
Drake - Started from the bottom (Crisologo Remix).mp3
Drake, Rihanna - Take Care (Moojo Edit).mp3
Father Stretch - CS Remix.wav
Gala - Freed From Desire (Choujaa Remix).flac
Gala - Freed From Desire (Choujaa Remix).wav
I Want You Back (Moojo Edit) - Unreleased.mp3
KIMOTION - Sarà Perché Ti Amo.wav
La Travesia (Samm Touch).wav
Last night.m4a
LOCKED OUT OF HEAVEN [David Mackay & Hoax (BE) Remix] PROMO 2.wav
Lovely (Drega remix).mp3
Mas Que Nada (Ahmed Spins Edit).aif
Masšh___Adam_Port_feat_Ninae_All_I_Got_Original_Mix 2.wav
Maxi Meraki - You Are My High .wav
Maxi Meraki feat Idd Aziz - Tsona (Jauks _Les Gout_ Edit).wav
Moojo - I Want Your Soul.wav
Moojo - Lisboa ( MIX MASTER VERSION ).wav
MoonJ - Collateral Damage.wav
Nitefreak-Ezizweni.wav
Outkast - Ms. Jackson (Moojo Remix).wav
Paradise - Samm.mp3
Peaty - KILOSA (Afro Melodic Mix)-1.wav
Rihanna - Te Amo (Lazare Edit).flac
Sade - Kiss Of Life ( Peace Control Remix ) 192 kbps.mp3
Samm (BE) - TROY.wav
Samm (BE) & Ajna (BE) - A Frenchie Thing.mp3
Samm & Maxi Meraki - Everybody Get Up .wav
Save Your Tears (Alex Wann Remix) MASTER.wav
Show Me Love ( Kimotion Remix ).mp3
Super Flu - Belief.wav
Tame Impala - The Less I Know The Better (Mau P Edit).wav
Tory Lanez - The Color Violet (Kevin Adams Remix).aif
Travis Scott - FE!N (DJ TEDDY-O Afro House REMIX) (1).wav
Travis Scott - Modern Jam (Sammi Ferrer & Chaleee Remix).wav
Tyla - Water (Sider GR Remix) FINAL.wav
TYLA - WATER ft Travis Scott (MOOJO Remix).wav
Tyla - Water Remix (Ruuben K Remix).mp3
unreleased Craig David - 7 Days (Alex Wann x Sparrow & Barbossa Remix).mp3
Viva La Vida (Choujaa & Epsylon Remix).mp3
submitted by AccurateMud6591 to unreleasedIDdeephouse [link] [comments]

2024.05.01 22:07 XFinalGambitX SpiritBreaker, revised Chapter 1 (Paranormal Mystery, 5735)

Just looking for thoughts and general critique. This has been a project I have been working on while I query lit agents with another manuscript. It isn't a genre I am overly familiar with so I wanted to know if I was hitting the right feeling. My worldbuilding has never been a concern but I tend to be less confident with some of my prose. I tend to be a bit wordy and overly descript so this was my attempt at pulling back on that.
Much appreciated!
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Chapter One:

The Profane Baroness

Being dead sounded nice right about now. Not a ‘world peace’ kind of nice but a ‘warm evening with nothing to do’ kind of nice. Raz didn’t necessarily want to die but she hadn’t slept in two days and was desperate for a break. She was overworked. Honestly, at the best of times she was just intolerably busy but the Church didn’t care if exorcists were well rested so long as their jobs were completed. Raz unfortunately had a greater sense of duty than self preservation, a pesky morality which interfered with her happiness more than she cared to admit. She hated it.
Right now, she hated her insomnia more but only because it was a larger concern. She could bemoan her commitment to doing good later. There were only so many annoyances one could spare focus for.
‘Prevalence is the guiding compass of animosity.’
An Alvidic scripture instinctually popped into Raz’s head. It was verse three of the first Sleeve of Anger, written by the Avatar of Wrath and his two apostles. The line was a personal favorite of hers. It always perfectly chimed in to justify her sour moods.
Another yawn began and Raz did her best to stifle it. She wasn’t used to being out this early. Mornings were weird.
The carriage she was in started to bump on freshly laden cobbles and Raz held on to the door handle for balance. Autumn air let the echo of wheels bounce between the high walls of nearby brick tenements. The streets were quiet and the din of a bustling community was all but missing.
Leather pulled taught and the horses sighed as the carriage came to a stop. The driver, understandably disheveled for the hour, opened the door for Raz despite her protests to him earlier in the day. He held out his hand but she refused the gesture and hopped onto the street.
“How many times must I tell you that I can get down just fine on my own?” She demanded.
The driver bowed. “Everytime, Madam Breaker. It is my pleasure and duty to insist otherwise.”
Raz smiled and rapped the man’s hat with a knuckle. “Very well. Until next time.”
“I’ll wait for you.”
“No need. I have a few other appointments in the area after this one. I'll walk. You look tired, get some rest. And if anyone at the church wants to employ your time before you can get that rest you may tell them that I was the one who gave the order.”
The driver chuckled as he climbed back to his seat and tipped his hat. “As you wish, Madam Breaker.”
Raz turned from the carriage to face the Silent Sentinels standing guard outside a nearby apartment. Their silver spears glinted menacingly in the lamplights. She took a few steps forward and they moved to either side of the entrance, recognizing their own. Servants of Angels always had that same look of fatigue.
"Many thanks." She said as she gave the door a shove.
Once inside, Raz found herself toe to toe with half of the neighborhood’s constabulary. Whatever happened here had a considerable draw. Most officers waiting about were young recruits, all smiles and wide eyes moving back and forth from one foot to the other with a palpable energy. All heads turned to Raz as she stepped in, shining an uncomfortable spotlight her way.
She stood still, prey wandering into a wolf’s den.
A tall Officer close by broke the silence. “Sorry, ma’am. You aren’t allowed in the building at this time, police business. Sort of. Military business, actually. No one is allowed in or out.” He approached through the crowd with an ungainly strut. “The Sentinels should have barred your entry to begin with. Let me escort you back out and I will have a quick word with them.” He smiled while giving Raz a searching glance. “And if you are without escort I could keep you company until the matter here is resolved.”
“Not again.” A young man to his side joked.
“Save some for the rest of us, then.” Another quipped.
The Officer put his hand on Raz’s shoulder and her lip curled as his fingers dug in. He tried to guide her back to the doors but she didn’t budge. She held a stance strong as any stone.
Her words were succinct, “Remove your filthy hand from my robes or I will move it for you.”
The Officer stopped mid stride. He turned slowly, face twisting to disbelief.
The energy in the room suddenly shifted.
Smiles faded.
A hush pushed in a wave.
“You what?” He demanded.
Raz doubled down. “Remove your hand from me or I will snap every bone in it. All Twenty-seven. Then I will take your hat and feed you each corner until you learn some manners.”
Red crept up the Officers’s neck. His mouth closed with a snap, a sneer replacing his surprise.
Without giving him time to make a fool of himself, Raz parted her first cloak to the side. The gold insignia of the church glimmered just above her heart.
“Yes Ma’am! Right away, Ma’am!” The officer shouted as he jerked his hand away and took two steps back, head bowed, eyes to the floor. “Apologies, Ma’am!”
“Ah, now you get it. Took you longer than most. It seems Wisdom is chasing you but you are just too quick for it.” Raz said as she pointed to her robes. “The next time you see black and silver regalia I suggest you keep your mouth shut and move to the side.”
As if a beat had not been missed, the room had resumed its previous energy. Awe was suddenly in every mouth, every smile. A SpiritBreaker had come down from on high to spread her holy benevolence.
The officer wasted no time apologizing further. “Forgive my crook, Breaker. I meant no disrespect. If there is anything I can do to help all you need do is–”
“Just point to where I am needed.” Raz interrupted.
Without looking back up, he gestured a full hand to the back of the room where a staircase was hidden behind a circle of chatty Officers. Brown uniforms and black tri cornered hats parted like a canyon split by a river as she passed by. Their whispers rose as she walked, quick and giddy exchanges.
“First a Marshal and now a SpiritBreaker.”
“What an honor.”
“The wife won’t believe this.”
Raz had no smiles to offer their excitement. Their sentiments were kind if not misguided. She was nothing special. She had a job to do, same as them. There was no glamor to it.
Two floors up, a hallway bright with oil sconces led to a door where another young officer stood guard. He had taken his pocket square from out his coat and was using it to cover his face. He noticed Raz right away and tried to meet her halfway down the hall.
“Apologies, ma’am.” He said with a muffle. “This area is currently off limits–”
Raz flaunted her insignia once more. “Yes, I am aware.”
She tried to walk past but the officer kept ahead of her, walking backwards with an outstretched hand. “I have been told that a Breaker was coming but I still cannot permit you into the apartment before the okay is given. My superiors were very insistent, your holiness. Were it me, I would let you in without a fuss. I am a devout man. Please don’t tell the Angels of my disrespect.”
Raz sighed. “No disrespect given. You are merely doing your duty.” Her voice lost its power. “Can you at least let your superiors know that I am here and with a very busy schedule.”
The man gleefully nodded, happy to perform the task. He rushed back to the door and gave a brief pause to catch his breath but before he could turn the knob it swung outward. Four men shouldered out, trying to move the weight of a body twisted tightly in a black linen carrier. They shuffled gracelessly as the corpse in the sheets swayed, dripping a foul, brown liquid as it did. Their elbows banged from wall to wall and their boots squeaked on the wood. A herd of elk would have made less noise. To top it all off, another man was trailing behind them, laying out a line of handkerchiefs over the body’s droppings. He attempted to mop the remains with his foot while simultaneously trying not to look at it.
Despite the lumbering procession, each officer managed a quick bow as they passed the Breaker by.
“Forgive them.” A voice spoke from out the open doorway.
Raz turned to address the speaker and a tall man wearing the badges of a High Marshal smiled her way. His coiffed hair was thick and black, powdered to the popular style. It was tied in a neat tail that reached his shoulders. His navy and black trimmed uniform was clean and had a shine from complex copper embroidery. He stepped to Raz softly despite the heavy look of his riding boots.
“They are new recruits. Most of the Night Watch are, actually. They have to endure rights of passage to work normal hours. I am trying to wash away a bit of their green but tired men learn lessons slowly. Most of them were just about to retire for the morning before they received word of that body.” His voice was kind yet rigid with the iron of command. “Do not hold their lack of refinement against them, Breaker. I implore your forgiveness.”
“I know the hardships that come with surviving the tail of a long day.” Raz sympathized. “But you needn’t clear out the body on my account. I have performed exorcisms around them before. I can normally be counted upon to finish my task before the deceased get cold.”
“Your expertise is a gift, Breaker, but there were some sensitivities to this particular case that I am not in the position to divulge or let you see.”
“Is that why you still guard the door?”
“Precisely. I still have an officer clearing away some evidence.”
Raz waited for an introduction, raising her eyebrows and inclining her head.
The officer hid a yawn of his own while trying to kick one of the soiled handkerchiefs to the side. He quickly looked up with a sharp inhale, eyes a wide realization. “Oh goodness, how terrible of me! A thousand apologies, Breaker. My name is Denwater, Marshal Denwater, I am leading this investigation. It would honor me to know your acquaintance.”
“Speak easy.” Raz urged. “I hold no ill will against your breach of social protocol. I am no lady and spread no gossip.” She chuckled. “It looks as though you too have started your shift earlier than expected. I am no doubt sure you're a bit befuddled.” She bowed her head forward and a tangle of necklaces leaned with her. “My name is Razayel. If it pleases you, you may call me Raz, like ‘Rosaline.’”
“A pleasure, Raz.” Denwater responded with a deeper bow.
They both exchanged practiced smiles but there was no easy segway to conversation from where they arrived. It was too early for charming lilts.
The dread of smalltalk loomed.
Raz dug her nails into her palms.
Denwater cleared his throat and tried to straighten out his cravat. He squinted, searching for a common topic.
Raz looked at the apartment and rocked back and forth from heel to toe. She twiddled her thumbs behind her back. “So– Denwater is a peculiar surname for a human. Do you have a bit of Wen in your blood?”
“Well noticed. My Great Grandfather is Wen. A soldier. He fought in some of the last battles of emancipation.”
“Interesting.”
“Indeed.”
“Been a Marshal long?”
“A handful of years.”
“Oh good.”
“And have you been a SpiritBreaker long?”
Raz raised an eyebrow.
“Right. You have since birth. My apologies.”
Thankfully, a loud scream came from inside the apartment. The sound of broken wood and scattered furniture was met quickly by a few additional yelps.
A well set officer clutching a full burlap sack barreled out the door. He shouldered past Marshal Denwater and nearly tripped flat footed to the wood below. When he regained his balance he saw Raz and immediately scrambled to get behind her.
“Stars and Angels!” The man cursed. “O-oh thank the Gods you are here Breaker. A specter just tried to push a bookcase on me. I-I saw it. It looked at me with eyes deep as The Well. It held out its hand to me. It held out its hand as if to drag me down to the waters of oblivion.”
“Officer!” Denwater shouted. “Remember yourself!”
“Yes, sir! Sorry, Sir!” The man heaved breathlessly. He shot up rigid, straight backed with a salute across his chest. He then held up a hand to his head as a faint started to seize his body. The wall cradled him as he slumped against it. “My knees are butter. Ten years on the force and I have never had such a fright. Felt a chill enter my body. Heard a groan and there it was.”
Raz gave the man a searching look. “You saw a full body apparition?”
The man looked to the Marshal and Denwater gave an approving nod. “I don’t know about all that, your holiness, but it almost looked like a shadow had come to life and was trying to grab me. Before I knew it, books started to fall from the shelves and my training must've kicked in because I started running.”
Denwater put a hand to the man’s shoulder. “Go ahead and go home. Try to keep tight lipped to the others downstairs. Get some rest and I will debrief you tomorrow, understood?”
The man’s jowls shook as he nodded with a hurry and made a low bow before he walked with a quick step to the stairs.
“If this Spirit is capable of manifesting full body to normal folk then they must have been dead quite a long time.” Raz thought out loud. “Do you have any idea how many days have passed?”
Denwater’s lips went thin. “I am not at liberty to say.”
“What about the deceased? Can you tell me their name or which of the three faiths they held?”
“I cannot divulge that as well. This is a sensitive matter.”
Raz battered the Marshal with a weighty glare. “Well then, what can you tell me?”
Denwater straightened up. “I can tell you that I am quite excited to watch you work and help with our investigation if you can.”
“Help with the investigation? I am no detective. I perform exorcisms.”
“Yes. That is true. However, I am told that you have a remarkable skill with seeing the dead and right now that is a talent I am in need of.”
“That will explain why the church was so insistent that I needed to be the one to come to this appointment then.”
“I asked for you by reputation and told the Church to keep the news close to the stars. I hope you do not feel deceived in any way. Discretion is a necessity with these types of affairs. I hope you understand.”
“So not only is this Spirit hindering your investigation but you also hope to gleam some sort of insight to the victim’s final moments using my powers? Sounds like you have little information to help you solve a murder.”
The Marshal stayed his tongue.
“You don’t know anything about the victim, do you? It’s not that you are unable to tell me, it's because there is nothing to tell as of yet.”
“And you say you are no detective. Well done, Breaker.”
“Don’t try to lift my heart with kind words, Marshal Denwater. It won’t work.” Raz pointed to the door with an open hand. “Let's get this over with. I have a busy day.”
The Marshal turned on his heel with a smile and opened the way forward. “Hindering our investigation is an understatement. Evidence we take keeps disappearing only to show back up where we grabbed them from. The house creaks like someone is walking near you. I kept thinking I heard my men speak a few times but I looked up to see them across the room. Truth be told, I am not accustomed to this kind of phenomena. I wouldn’t say I fear it but it puts me at unease.”
Raz stepped inside and the sweet smell of decay assaulted the air. She disliked how much she enjoyed it. “That is how some of them feed. Nibbling on your emotions.”
“How charming.”
“Have you noticed your men feeling the same unease?”
“You saw for yourself.” Denwater said as he pointed to the books scattered on the ground. “Would it be a problem?”
“That depends. If the Spirit has lingered long enough or fed enough then there is a chance it has corrupted itself beyond a simple haunting to a Demonic incursion.”
“Wonderful.”
“That is why I am here. SpiritBreaker’s prevent as much from happening.”
Raz surveyed every corner of the sitting room. It was a large apartment for a Chalmish neighborhood. It had the loud modesty of a politician about it. Richly decorated curtains did their best to hold back part of the sun as it started to rise above the city walls. Expensive furniture, moved from their indented spaces, told the tale of repeated search attempts. Raz closed the entryway and noticed a small design scratched into the wood of the door frame. She bent down to get a better look as goosebumps prickled on her arms.
Symbols arranged into a diamond were etched into either side of the door near to the floor. They weren’t anything she recognized. It didn’t match any of the big three languages or their distant dialects. It wasn’t anything ancient or Angelic either but the more she looked at it the more she started to feel a chill. Her philology was unmatched at her parish so to see something alien was a peculiarity. To her surprise, Raz felt more fear than excitement.
“That is on all the doorways.” Denwater chimed in. “Looks like a filigree test to me. Likely to see which room would best fit the design.”
Raz continued to stare.
“Is it not?”
“I don’t know.” She said as she stood and took a step back to get a different perspective. “It looks like it has meaning but it is wholly unfamiliar to me.”
“Filigree. It is something you see in the houses of highborn folk. Not too uncommon.”
“I have been to many. My church has them as well. Those have repeating patterns to create a sprawling design but this looks different.” Her mouth was starting to dry up. “It looks like spellwork. But it isn't an Angelic script. Is it just on the one side?”
Denwater walked to a nearby door and opened it while Raz did the same for the entryway. The other side was untouched.
“Just the one side.” The Marshal informed.
The goosebumps came back. “It’s like a containment spell.”
The Marshal shivered. He could feel the same thing Raz was. “Beg your pardon, Breaker, but I think we should get back to the task at hand. There is much I must do with this investigation.” He gestured to a spot nearby.
Just off the sitting room was a dark, oval stain. Poorly cleaned residue still pockmarked the resting spot of the body. Raz walked over and bent down close to it.
“This is an advanced amount of putrefaction.” She remarked.
Marshal Denwater joined in. “Adipocere. You could see it falling from the body when it was hauled out. The victim was possibly dead for at least three weeks before we found them. We can ascertain that much at least.”
“I imagine that kind of decay is what made identifying the deceased a difficult task.”
“It would have, yes. However, that wasn’t why we couldn’t. I don’t think I would be out of line in telling you that this isn’t an ordinary case.”
Raz tried not to roll her eyes too hard. “You don’t say.”
“Decomposition is one thing but the victim was intentionally disfigured to ensure we didn’t find out their identity.”
“And that is why you need me?”
“That is why we need you.” Denwater agreed. “With your talents, you should be able to see the spirit of the victim as they were when they lived. Perhaps give us a positive identification.”
A small head poked from out the door Denwater opened. The wide eyes of a wary cat looked the two up and down.
The Marshal jolted with a spook.
Raz smiled and beckoned the cat closer with a few kisses.
“It was around when we got here. Not sure if it’s the victim’s.” Denwater explained as he tried to slow his breathing. “The window was open so it might have been a stray.”
“Not a stray.” Raz said as the cat made slow steps to her. “An animal’s instinct tells them to avoid a body that has forsaken rebirth. Only loyalty stays that fear. This little cutie was a pet, not a scavenger.”
“Your wisdom knows no bounds, Breaker.”
“It is just a simple fact.”
The cat had the brown, black, and white painted coat of a Calico. She stalked forward and pushed her cheek into Raz’s welcoming hand.
“Are all Breakers good with animals?”
“Cats have an affinity with me the same as Spirits.” Raz informed as she started to give small scratches to the chin. “They say that felines are guardians of The Well. They straddle the bridge between the waters of oblivion and mortal life which is why it is said that they have nine lives.”
The Calico’s purr had only just started before she hunkered down to the floor, pupils growing wide. Her back arched and raised the fur as she stared at something just behind them.
Raz stood up. “Seems like our ghost is trying to materialize again.”
Denwater shot up and put a hand to the hilt of his sword. “What should I do?”
“Nothing, until I tell you to. I know this is your crime scene, Marshal, but if you want to gain the insights you desire then you are going to follow my order without question.”
“I am at your disposal.”
“Good.” Raz reached into her top robe and pulled out a necklace. “Put this on. It won’t offer you any significant protection from attack but it should be enough. Until we know what kind of Spirit we are dealing with we will assume that it is hostile and means to harm us.”
“Harm us? Can it truly?”
Raz turned to look at the Marshal with a knowing glance.
“Don’t do this to me, Breaker. I have not encountered a Spirit before. I am feeling my courage dwindle with the minutes. Surely they can’t kill us. Those are just stories, right?”
“Some of the best tales are kerneled with truth.”
“Tell me you jest.” Denwater pleaded as he fumbled against the clasp of the necklace.
The Spirit had fed much on the man. Outside the room he was composed but it was all but lost when he reentered this space.
Raz shushed the man as she walked slowly to the other end of the living room where the books had been thrown from the shelf on the wall. A feeling like static started to charge the hairs on her neck. The air left a crisp wake as the room changed into something less amiable.
“In order to exorcize a Spirit.” Raz began. “We first must find out what faith it held when it passed. Until then it could either be a Human ghost, a Wen Burden, or a Chalm Geist. Human ghosts are easy because they are bound by the Passing Zodiac. If we know the time of death we can accurately determine its death traits and remove it with opposing scripture. Wen Elemental Burdens, on the other hand, are also simple to determine but much harder to get rid of.”
“And Chalm Geists?”
“We’ll cross that unruly bridge when we get there. Let us just hope it is one of the former.”
The Marshal and the cat cautiously followed behind Raz.
“Now. Why the books?” She thought out loud. “Why materialize after having them moved? Could be a possessive trait. That would help to narrow down our search.” Raz picked up a few of the books and tossed them back to the ground. She looked around, waiting for something to happen before she turned to the Marshal with a smile. “Denwater, could you do me a favor and fiddle about with the bookcase?”
“Aren’t you better equipped for such a thing?”
His voice was starting to strain. Just like any other animal, his body was starting to feel the effects of aberrant energy. His bones were tuning to the resonance of a haunting. Nothing compared to the aura of a site that was being stirred into a whip.
Raz took a few steps to the door and the cat kept by her feet. “Some spirits find Breakers familiar and won’t respond to their taunts. You, however, are just right to ruffle their feathers.”
“I want you to note that I am uncomfortable with this idea.”
“Noted.”
Denwater shook his head and bent down to pick up a few books and started to toss them one by one down to the floor. He kept looking over his shoulder. Something primal was taking over his brain. It felt something. His breaths were quicker. The slightest bend in his knees readied his body to sprint away.
It was the response Raz was looking for. Yes, some Spirits liked to avoid Breakers but that wasn’t the whole story. Some Spirits liked to stoke fear and feed off of it. Since being in the room, the Marshal had grown all the more nervous.
Skittish.
Only one spirit coveted possessions and consumed nervous energy close to this time of the year and all things considered, it could have been a much worse outcome.
Denwater picked up another book from the ground. A pair of gnarled feet stood next to it. As he rose, a body loomed near to him. Pallid flesh, barely covered in a dirty night robe, took in slow breaths it didn’t need. They held up a hand, long fingernails reaching for the Marshal.
“Don’t move.” Raz nearly whispered.
Denwater opened his eyes wide and looked up. He kept stiff, halfway to reaching down for a few more books to toss around.
Raz held out a hand to give something for him to focus on. They locked eyes and the Breaker could see the strength of his heart fleeing. Whatever tales he grew up on were suddenly behind him and his body could sense it. Fear was a natural reaction.
“So long as you stay still and don’t touch their things anymore, they will lose interest in you.” Raz tried to placate.
Growing wider still, Denwater’s eyes tried to spy his fate from the corner of his vision. He was a stone, unable to do anything but let his mind run away with dread.
“My Gods.” The Breaker gasped.
“W-what is it?”
“They are still disfigured. Even in death.”
Cuts, jagged and harsh like deep ravines scoured the face. There were no recognizable features. No rising cheek bones. No sunken sockets. Just the swollen tangle of flesh struggling to heal on a face abused and forsaken.
The Marshal braved a few words. “Is that abnormal? Have you never seen as much before?”
“No. Never. There is no way unless–” A sickly revelation rose. “Unless they were maimed long before they were murdered. Kept alive. Kept alive for weeks. Cut up. Tortured. Long enough until the depravity was the only thing the mind remembers. The Spirit recalls only the horror. It became them.”
“Race? Sex? Anything?”
“They aren’t Chalmish. The complexion could be either Human or Wen. The night gown is soaked in dried blood. It is concaved. Organs were taken. But the hips look wider. A woman. She is looking for a book now.”
Taking a clumsy step, the Spirit tried to look over the spines of books. It fumbled blind with a raised, crooked finger. It tried to feel for some kind of marking. It searched for some kind of familiarity.
Denwater took the chance to try and sneak away. He managed one silent tip toe but his energy pulled at the Spirit like a sprung trap. It immediately turned and raised a hand, opening its mouth wide. Scarred tissue stretched and tore. Broken teeth caked in dried blood yelled in a quiet fury. The Marshal had a wisp of transient vapor rise from the back of his head and wrap around the Spirit’s outstretched finger. He fell to the ground, sapped of power.
“Stop!” Razayel yelled as she held out a charm carved from dark wood.
The Spirit did not respond. The sound of its feasting was like air rushing through a winding cavern. The Marshal was losing consciousness. His life was being stolen.
Raz inspected the charm. “Odd. That usually works.” She lowered her arm. “If you weren’t currently glutting on my ally then I would happily remove you with scripture. But that takes time. Something we both don’t have. How unfortunate. I would have really liked to avoid doing this so early in my day.”
Raz took out a matching necklace to the one she gave the Marshal and dangled the fine, golden symbol with a tight grip. The silver chain began to radiate a dull glow. Similarly, the one around Denwater’s neck did the same.
“Sorry to do this to you, Marshal.” Raz said as she took a deep breath. “By the light of the stars and the Gods from which they shine, I, Razayel, mark you a heretic.”
The Spirit raised its head. Gritted teeth sneered. A low tone groaned in the air as a gurgle popped and bubbled deep in its throat. Feeling the snaring spell start to wrap around it, the Spirit spun quickly to agitation. It tried to charge at the Breaker.
“Scourge of the New Spring month, The Profane Baroness, I name you!” Raz shouted as the silver chain in her hand grew hot and began to sizzle her skin. The Spirit froze in place, midway to attack. “Angels of the Devoted Rivers guide my hand. Release your bargain and return to the cycle.”
The Spirit twitched.
“Release your bargain and return to the cycle!”
The calico clawed at the air between Raz’s legs. Her hisses echoed the prayer.
“Release your bargain and return to the cycle!”
The ghost’s tendons started to snap and pull back. A force, mighty as it was swift, struck out against the wild flails of the derelict soul.
“Release your bargain and return to the cycle!”
The Marshal’s neck began to burn. Skin started to smoke.
The ghost’s gurgles were rounded with pain. Its joints bent backwards as it tried to fight back against the power Raz commanded. It flailed, finally succumbing, falling to its knees. The broken body begged for release, forced into prostration.
The Spirit looked up with malice. “No!” It shouted while fighting back. It managed to stand again. The edges of its mouth tore as it tried to widen the hole to speak again. “You will not damn me, Breaker. I will not go back to the Well. I can not.”
Raz focused the core of her body into the necklace in her hand. The chain was starting to glow red. Her flesh cried out with a terrible, searing pain. Despite her efforts, the spirit did not go back to heel. In fact, it was able to raise an arm and shoved it between a few of the books left on the shelf.
Something was there. Raz could see it now. There were more sigils scratched into the wood behind the case. A hidden fuse, a trigger used to start the complex of a spell.
A freeze shot up Raz’s legs and into the back of her eyes. She exhaled a gout of frost and tried to squirm away from the effects but couldn’t. She was stunned. Stuck in place. Just as the Spirit was being held by a snare trap, so too was the Breaker.
In all her long years, Razayel had never felt anything like this. Spirits couldn’t work spells. Only Angels could.
“I will not go back.” The Profane Baroness declared once more. “I will run. I can outrun what is coming.”
The Spirit took its free hand and shoved it down its throat. Skin split and the jaw cracked out of place. Noise like a falling tree crashed as the Spirit pulled out a small gray sphere. It wretched a gout of scorched, jet liquid as it did. It stared at the Breaker between the mounds of scarred flesh of its face and threw the pearl to the ground. A wispy, gray mass slithered out afterwards and moved around the floor with a puff. It snaked across the wood and right to the cat between her legs. The mist rushed up its nose.
The Calico went limp before shaking violently on the floor. It wailed and hissed. The Spirit dissipated in an instant like it had never been at all. As soon as it was gone Raz regained control of herself.
Scrambling, the Breaker dropped her holy symbol and bent down to grab the cat but it suddenly snapped into action, scampering across the room. It howled as it ran into furniture at a full clip, smashing its new body against everything in its way. Raz had started to shake the cold away before the cat lept out the open window.
Razayel, wide eyed, hand throbbing with a shallow burn, looked to the window, to the unconscious Marshal, back to the window, and finally at the stain left by the corpse.
“Well that's never happened before.”
​
“The Living Zodiac is the breath from which an Angel sings.
The Passing Zodiac is the breath from which The Well deceives.
Peace comes with the cycle. Rebirth is as holy as the passing of stars.”
submitted by XFinalGambitX to fantasywriters [link] [comments]

2024.05.01 21:02 ckler91 Red feet and swelling daily two years after gout attack

Hi everyone,
Just wanted to do a 6-month check-in to see if anybody here has what I have developed. I see a ton of new people have joined the sub.
I had a 2 month gout attack over 2 years ago. Ever since it subsided, it left me with feet that turn red, veiny and slightly swollen when I'm on them for too long (usually like 30-45 mins). Elevation and cold water alleviate the issue. My feet just seem weak, irritable and damaged. Anybody have this?
I should note the following:
If anybody has experienced this, please let me know!
submitted by ckler91 to gout [link] [comments]

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