#how many more clumps until I’m literally balding?????

[seilon]

tfw you’re so underweight that you’ve become malnourished to the point where you’re hair is thinning and falling out at an exponential rate and now you’re too scared to brush or style it because it just keeps getting worse and no matter how much more you eat or try to fix your diet and eating habits it doesn’t help and god I just miss having decent normal hair instead of this weird brittle flaky disaster that pretty much looks like balding near the part

#haha....tfw......right.....hahaha..........relatable.... #kibumblabs #help #I’ve been trying so hard and I just don’t know how to get it back to normal fjdjdjfkvkfndfnf #I’ve been trying to eat more protein and stuff cause I know my iron is low and stuff but it doesn’t do anything I brush it like once a day #and when I do I lose like another clump of hair like #how many more clumps until I’m literally balding????? #I’ve already had lab tests don’t for my low weight but my doctor never told me anything about fixing it or why this is happening in the #first place #I’m going to kms #earlier this year I was in the best shape of my life #right at the start of quarantine I was NOT underweight for the first time in YEARS and that extra weight was all muscle #and now here we fucking are #I hate this so much I hate trjdhdhdhdhdh #weight tw #weight loss tw

[witharsenicsauce]

Chosen Stories From the War #19: V5R93

(Content Warning: This chapter contains brief descriptions of gun violence and gore)

The quiet of the forest was broken by hurried footsteps, and the frantic crunch of leaves and twigs. One figure darted through the brush, alone, naked and afraid. Silence followed them, followed by several more that tore through the brush and vegetation with the heavy clumping of their boots.

A flock of birds burst from the treetops, scattering in the commotion. The figures did not stop, and the bare one, tall and lanky, panted as they leapt a log and nearly tripped, glancing over their shoulder as they did.

*”V5R93!”* The troops called out in that distorted, mechanical voice. *”Stop!”*

V5R93 straightened up, squared his shoulders, and took off running as fast as his long legs would carry him, all the while chastising himself. Berating himself. He had become sloppy.

He slid to a stop at the foot of a towering gray cliff extending on either side. It took only a moment for him to survey the area and realize there was no way around this thing, only up. As V5R93 dove for the cliff, intending to begin his climb, he felt the sharp pinch of the bullets of a gun striking him in the back.

At first, he felt nothing, his limbs simply stopped working as he lost all control of his body and fell to the ground. Then the pain began to erupt like blossoms from the wounds in his chest and his back, and the two guards approached him, their guns still drawn. He gazed up at them, black eyes pleading for some kind of mercy.

*”Damned Sectoids”* They said, cocked their guns, and fired again.

.

.

Kon-Mai smiled as she looked over the clothes she had dressed her brothers in that day. Clothes she had made herself; good enough to rival any ADVENT clothing store, that was sure. They had to make a good impression, and she was certain they would.

Her own outfit was one that distinctly outlined her feminine features, while still maintaining her authoritative (and terrifying) air. Her waist-high pants were made out of a strong, denim mix of deep magenta cloth and made it so she could bend her knees easily, lest she need to pick up her sword and fight. Her shirt, while a turtleneck, hugged her figure, the part of her Abyzou had always told her to be proud of. And right now, she has to admit, she was proud, although no thanks to her ‘mother’. With her hair braided into several cornrows down her neck and a bit of purple lip tint, she felt very beautiful.

The Avenger had landed just outside of Kanab, Utah. Along the dusty ground, almost untouched by time, bones and tracks of ancient creatures lay scattered like a circle of protection. Tygan had shown her pictures of these beasts, and they rivaled some of the creatures the Elders possessed. These “Dinosaurs” were great scaled monsters, larger than the Avenger itself. Some swam in the water, devouring anything in their path, some ruled the land and reigned terror on those who crossed them. And some, though large, were peaceful, even cute. She liked those beasts.

From the distance, she could see the groups of soldiers beginning to arrive. Some had vehicles with them, but most were traveling on foot, carrying only what they had on their backs. Most were human, but from the sunlight across the sand, she could see a familiar face.

Kon-Mai’s eyes widened upon recognizing him. “Savitr?”

“Hm?” Gur-Rai looked up from the stick he was using to draw in the sand. His outfit was one she had taken care to make much more durable, and she had good reason: he had already gotten it dirty. The polo shirt was slightly big around his scrawny middle, but his leather pants hugged his bony hips perfectly and accented what little features he did have.The scarf he wore around his head to cover his baldness was also made of very durable Polyester. Kon-Mai prided herself on this endeavor. 

“That Skirmisher.” She nodded towards the group of them. “I know him.”

“Which one?” Gur-Rai asked. “He looks like every other bitch.”

“We cannot all be blue, Brother.” Dhar-Mon sighed, once again smoothing down the jacket Kon-Mai made for him. It was light pink, matching the color of his eyes, and had some synthetic fur around the collar, making it look a bit like a Skirmishers cloak. The design on the back had taken hours to embroider, but the intricate wheel symbol had come out stunningly, and made it so Dhar-Mon adored that coat most of all. Of course, it was also made for cold weather, so the poor man was sweating in it out here, but he refused to take it off, citing the fact that he wanted to show off his sister’s hard work.

Gur-Rai squinted against the sun, actually trying to get a look at the man. He didn’t need to, however, as when Savitr saw Kon-Mai as well, he waved to her.

She raised a hand in return. “That one.”

“Oh…” Gur-Rai bared his teeth a bit. “You let me know if he gets too close.”

“If he does, I can handle myself.” Kon-Mai insisted with a scoff.

“Yeah, I said the same thing once…” Gur-Rai seemed to freeze, falling very quiet, and Dhar-Mon put a hand on his brother’s back.

“I am sure this man means our sister no harm.” He said. “And in any case, it appears he will be joining us on the Avenger. He will be our teammate.”

As the group began to congregate outside the doors, the Chosen heard footsteps behind them, and turned to allow Senuna herself to pass by. She beamed like the sun, stepping off the dock to greet the oncoming soldiers on ground level.

“Welcome, soldiers of XCOM.” She clapped, and the others followed her in a cheer that echoed through the mountains. “I see many familiar faces in the crowd, as well as many new ones! Some of you have been on board the Avenger, seen her in her glory, but for many of you this will be your first time seeing the real war.” Her smile faded. “And I warn you, this task shall not be easy. We will ask much of you here, and expect you to perform accordingly. We cannot afford to falter, not now.” Her smile returned. “But to those of you who take on this challenge, you will receive the greatest of all rewards: your home, safely returned to you.”

Another cheer went up, and Kon-Mai met Savitr’s golden eyes. He smiled slightly when he saw her, and she nodded in return.

“As you can see, the war is going well!” Senuna giggled. “I’m sure you didn’t miss the three blue giants standing behind me, some of you may even recognize them!” She gestured to the three Chosen. “These three are not here as our prisoners, but as our friends. For you see, soldiers, like the Skirmishers you fight beside, the Chosen have also cast off the yoke of the Elders, and now fight for freedom, justice, and humanity!”

Gur-Rai let out a whoop, which stirred the crowd into another cheer. At this point, the human soldiers seemed to be over the shock of seeing the Chosen. Those who were not looked at them in awe, like the humans in the city centers had…

Kon-Mai straightened her back and clasped her hands, trying to look as majestic as she could. Her eyes danced to Savitr once again, and she saw he had not looked away.

“With this incredible advantage, I’d hasten to say that by the end of this year, if not the next, this war will be OVER!” Senuna raised her arms. “The Elders will fall to us! We will regain our home!”

Home...Kon-Mai’s mind lingered on that word.

.

.

After the speech came the extremely tedious task of checking everyone in, unloading cargo, reloading cargo, discharging soldiers that were getting off here, etc etc. And of course, the Chosen had been voluntold to help with that.

Kon-Mai was at the check in station, assigning each soldier their rank and place on the Avenger and handing them little makeshift name tags as she checked their names off of colorful boxes on a piece of paper. Gur-Rai and Dhar-Mon were helping the burlier soldiers load the resupply onto the Avenger’s cargo deck, Dhar-Mon having taken off his jacket so as to not tear the fabric.

In the hullabaloo, Kon-Mai nearly missed him, but as a shadow fell over her, she looked up to those familiar eyes.

“Savitr Vallinor.” She said, smiling almost against her will.

“Sergeant Mordenna.” He bowed. “It will be an honor to serve under you.”

“Under me?” She chuckled, writing down his name.

“I mean...if we do get assigned to any missions together. Hypothetically, it will be an honor.” Savitr’s peachy skin turned orange as he blushed.

She chuckled and handed him his tag. “Go inside, Vallinor.”

“Yes, Mordenna.” He bowed deeply to her and passed the table, towards the Avenger and where his sisters waited for him. Kon-Mai followed him with her eyes for a moment, until she heard a snicker beside her.

She looked at where Princess sat beside her, the purple-haired girl giggling like a child. “What is the matter with you?”

“You were getting flirted with~” Princess cooed.

Kon-Mai scoffed. “Can I not acknowledge another warrior’s presence?”

“You couldn’t tell? Damn you’re clueless.” Princess scoffed. “He’s got eyes for you.”

“You are simply imagining things.” Kon-Mai shook her head. Still, the words lingered on her mind. WAS he interested in her romantically? What did it mean if he was?

She looked back at Savitr. This time, his attention was turned to his sister Nitocris, who seemed to be looking around in clueless excitement at the sight of the Avenger.

They were alike, she acknowledged. He cared for his sisters like she did her brothers. But she had never seen him in the field besides the brief, very boring patrol they’d been on together. She did not know him. How could she love someone she did not know?

Kon-Mai turned back to her task at hand. She decided to shelve the thought until further notice.

.

.

Gur-Rai straightened up, stretching his back, which was growing sore from the constant heavy lifting. He looked around at the people working around him, his brother still loading cargo the size of trucks like it was literally nothing. The Avenger would be well stocked after this, with soldiers and supplies.

He put his hands on his hips and kicked the dirt, looking to where the medical tent was. As one of the soldiers exited and another entered, Gur-Rai could see Malinalli inside the tent, giving physicals to oncoming soldiers and checking off those who were going on shore leave. She stopped for a moment, her pen hovering above her clipboard, and then began writing again, slowly.

Gur-Rai furrowed his brow, a smirk growing on his lips. He dusted off his hands and traipsed over to her, pushing aside the tent flap and poking his head in. “Hello, Molly.”

“Darkstrider, I’m with a patient.” Malinalli hissed pointing to a Skirmisher woman who was sitting on the table, her hands resting over the very noticeable bump in her stomach.

Gur-Rai nodded to her and looked over the medic again. “Need help?”

Malinalli looked annoyed. “Um...not really.”

“Well, Commander said to help you, so you have to give me something to do.” He smiled as that lie passed right over his teeth, and straightened up...slamming his head into the top of the tent pole. Okay, he deserved that one.

Malinalli looked skeptical, but she sighed and looked around for something to give him. Her hand grabbed a plastic bag full of clear fluid and she handed it to him. “Go out into the woods and dump that somewhere.”

“What is it?”

“Saline, I didn’t mix it right, so it’s basically useless. It needs to be disposed of, a tree or bush should do the trick.”

“Molly, are you trying to get rid of me?” Gur-Rai smirked.

Malinalli smiled like she was about to crack. “Oh no, Gur-Rai, of course not. Now please, go.”

Gur-Rai bowed and exited the tent, hearing Malinalli telling the woman inside “Okay, I’m gonna send you up to Tygan for an ultrasound, but from the test results…”

Her voice trailed off, and Gur-Rai passed the ever shortening line of people waiting to be checked into the Avenger database. He waved at his sister, who was still in charge of making name tags, and walked off into the deep green darkness of the woods.

The noise and chatter began to fade away as he slipped into the quiet green, and Gur-Rai took a deep breath. All of his senses were sharpened out here. He could see through the darkness as clear as a crystal. His skin prickled with the slight dampness of the air, and he inhaled deeply, tasting the faint electricity on the air. No doubt his own psionic ability was tainting it slightly. Damn the Elders for giving him the Big Think…

He traveled deeper into the woods, the trees growing in size and the sky growing dim behind their massive leaves. His skin tingled with the feeling that something was in here with him, his hunter’s instinct on full alert. It was exhilarating.

The forest finally gave way to a clearing, bordered by a silver cliff with jagged rocks that looked quite menacing in the dim light. Supposing that this was as good a place as any, Gur-Rai poked a hole in the bag with his sharp nail and let the water drain out by a nearby tree. As the bag emptied slowly, he looked around the dark clearing, his eyes drinking in the surrounding green and purple and pink vegetation…

Wait, pink?

Gur-Rai dropped the bag and made his way over to the brush at the base of the cliff, the prickling of psionic energy dancing on his bare arms and face. He hesitated, drawing Darkclaw and clutching it tightly as he pulled back the brush...

“Well, well, well.” He mused. “Look at you.”

A Sectoid lay in the brush, bare and exposed, with its back to Gur-Rai and it’s face in the dirt. At the sound of his voice, the Sectoid seemed to startle, and grabbed at the mud to drag itself away.

“Ah ah ah, not so fast.” Gur-Rai twirled his gun on his finger. “Goodness, I should tell the Commander that the soldiers need more practice. That many bullet holes? You should be de-” He broke off, his eyes moving to the Sectoid’s finger as it scratched something into the dirt. Curious, Gur-Rai knelt down.

H-E-L-P

His eyebrows shot up. Sectoids, at least the ones he knew, didn’t know how to speak any human languages, and they CERTAINLY didn’t know how to write in any. And yet, he watched as this Sectoid used it’s clawed finger to slowly spell out “Help Me” in the dirt.

Gur-Rai took the Sectoid’s face in his hand and tilted it towards him. “Hey you. Can you understand me? Can you understand the words I’m saying right now?”

The Sectoid nodded, softly, then their face twisted up in pain and they clutched the dirt again, groaning in agony.

“...Who did this?” Gur-Rai asked. “Who hurt you? Was it XCOM?”

The grasping hand, shaking from pain, drew one long line, then two short ones on either side, the symbol for the Elders. For ADVENT.

Gur-Rai stood. “Stay right here. Well, I guess you’re not gonna go anywhere. I should say, don’t die before I get back.” He took off into a sprint, disappearing into the trees once again.

.

.

Gur-Rai poked his head back into Malinalli’s tent, where this time Lothar was helping her hold down a patient as she worked to pull a piece of shrapnel from a very old-looking wound in a man’s shoulder. “Hey. Molly.” Gur-Rai snapped. “I need your help.”

“I’m a little busy.” Malinalli grunted. “What do you need?”

“There’s a Sectoid in the woods.”

The two medics froze, and Malinalli turned to Gur-Rai with a look of horror. “Is this an ambush?!”

“Probably not, it’s just the one and it’s injured pretty bad.”

“So…” She looked at him funny. “You...want me to come see a dying Sectoid?”

“Yep. You’re a doctor, you’ll know what to do.”

“Technically I’m a nurse…” She muttered with a sigh. “And I have human patients. They take priority.”

“Human patients? Molly, that’s pretty racist~” Gur-Rai grinned, his sharp teeth flashing.

“I didn’t mean that!” She cried. “I’m not-!”

“Well if that’s true, you’ll come help the poor wounded Sectoid, won’t you?” Gur-Rai batted his nonexistent eyelashes.

Malinalli sighed long and hard, looking very tired. “Um...Lothar can you-”

“I got it, Molly. Go see the Sectoid.” He took the pliers from her, and she followed Gur-Rai out of the forest and into the woods.

.

.

Senuna wiped at a smudge on the Avenger’s window. From her quarters, she could see around the back on the ship, where cargo was diligently being loaded. There was the Hieromonk, his long white hair pulled back in a ponytail to keep it out of his eyes as he worked. So dutifully he obeyed commands, so eagerly did he complete any task assigned him.

It made her old heart hurt, and she sighed, leaning against the window.

Her door opened, and she looked over expecting to see Bradford or Jane. But it was Zhang she saw instead, walking slowly with a cane. She smiled at the sight of him: she’d already been chastised for calling him “Old Man,” but the idea was so funny to her. He’d never seemed old to her before.

“I should be the one walking with a cane, Colonel~” She giggled as she stood up. “What’s wrong? You look nauseous.”

Zhang refrained from speaking for a moment until she gestured for him to sit. Only when he did, he finally opened his mouth. “The soldiers outside are…”

“Oh.” She chuckled. “Right. You weren’t here for that. They’re called Skirmishers.”

“They look like ADVENT.” He said quietly.

“Yes, they do.” She nodded. “Your point?”

His hand went to his chest, where the staples were still embedded in his skin from the wounds he’d sustained. Senuna saw this, and sighed.

“They didn’t torture you, Chilong.”

“They look like the ones who did.” He protested, albeit calmly. “I know I am being unreasonable, Senuna. But I doubt how effective I’ll be in combat alongside these...hybrids.”

Senuna blinked slowly. “...Technically I’m a hybrid.”

“That’s different.” He said. “You’re different.”

“How am I different?” She asked. “More powerful? Are you afraid of me, Chilong?”

“You look human, Sunny.” He finally admitted.

“That’s only because I got lucky.” She stood up. “Do I, yet again, need to tell you where this body came from?”

“Are you implying you found out?” It was Zhang’s turn to chuckle, at Senuna’s discomfort.

She looked away. “Exactly, Chilong. Don’t act like I’m better than them just because I look ‘right’. In a lot of ways, I am much worse.”

There was an awkward silence between the two for a moment.

“I’m sorry.” Zhang relented. “This is not a subject I should joke about. I know how much it hurts you.”

“No.” Senuna insisted. “I’m sorry ADVENT did this to you. I’m sorry they took you. It was my decision that cost us this war, and it was my decision to send you into enemy territory.”

“No it wasn’t, Sunny. I made the choice to go behind enemy lines. I was determined to save you.”

“Yes, but if I hadn’t gone after Dante, in fact if I hadn’t let them take him in the first place...” She stopped, her voice cracking, and shook her head. “Do you...want to leave the Avenger?”

The silence in response made her nerves go into a panic, and Senuna looked up just as Zhang sighed.

“How much use am I to you like this?” He muttered. “An old, broken man, a shadow of who I was. To let me go would only bring good things.”

“Oh, don’t you dare!” Senuna circled her desk and plopped down on the couch beside him, pulling him into a tight hug and only loosening her grip when he winced out in pain.

“Sunny.” He wrapped his arms around her as well. “Please don’t be upset. I don’t like to see you cry.”

“Chilong, I’ve lost so much.” She whispered. “Please don’t go. I don’t want to lose you, too.”

He hesitated. “If I want to go, Sunny, will you stop me?”

She was eerily quiet, then finally, “How could I? If that’s...what you want.” She pulled away. “You’re my friend. I just want you to be happy…”

He smiled, and ran a hand through her silver hair. “I will stay, Sunny. If that is what makes you happy.”

.

.

Malinalli jogged alongside Gur-Rai, her little legs struggling to keep up with what, to him, was a slow pace. “Slow down!” She cried. “I’m out of shape.”

“So is my brother, and I wouldn't wait for him~” Gur-Rai chuckled.

“That’s a lie.” Malinalli smirked. “You’d absolutely wait for him. Right?”

Gur-Rai fell silent.

“I think it’s sweet.” She added. “You love your siblings so much. You put on this asshole persona but you’re really just-”

“Over here.” Gur-Rai cut in. “In this clearing.”

Malinalli bent down and picked up the empty saline bag. “Over here?”

“No, over here.” Gur-Rai parted the brush. “Hello there. Still alive? ...Good! I brought help!” He waved her over.

Malinalli came over and braced herself. At first she thought the Sectoid was dead, until she noticed the very slight movement of its body with each breath. There were bullet holes all throughout its back, and the ants had already begun swarming its body.

“Oh…” She said, her heart sinking. She got down on her knees beside the Sectoid. “He...she...um...they…” She looked it over. “What do you want me to call you?”

The Sectoid made a motion with it’s mouth.

“Hm? He?”

The Sectoid nodded.

Malinalli began to pull her tools from her belt. “Gur-Rai, can you turn him over?”

“Yeah.” He knelt down beside the Sectoid and began to slide his hands under him. It was then the Sectoid let out a cry of pain, startling both XCOM agents and sending Malinalli scampering back.

“Sorry! Sorry.” Gur-Rai stopped, his hands still under the Sectoid. “I‘m gonna go slow, okay? Let me know when you’re ready…”

The Sectoid remained still for a moment. Then with the tiniest movement of his head, he nodded. Slowly, Gur-Rai slid his arms the rest of the way under him and pulled him towards his chest, and the Sectoid gasped as he rolled over in Gur-Rai’s arms. The Chosen adjusted his grip and began to lay him down, but the Sectoid caught his arm, as if pleading him not to move.

“You wanna stay here?” Gur-Rai nodded. “Okay. Molly, can you work like this?”

“It’s better” She picked up her tiny scanner and began to wave it over the holes in the Sectoid’s chest. “...These were ADVENT guns…”

Gur-Rai nodded silently. The Sectoid in his arms whimpered uncomfortably.

“Almost done, hon. You’re doing great.” Malinalli said softly. “Okay…” She smiled. “Okay. Not as bad as I had thought…” She looked up at Gur-Rai. “Still bad though.”

“How bad?”

“Punctured lung is the worst one…” She pressed a few buttons on the scanner picture. “This thing is so slow, sorry. One of his Psytocrean glands looks like it’s ruptured, the one across from the Taux Filter.”

Gur-Rai nodded, his blank stare conveying he had no idea what she was saying.

“My point is, if it’s ruptured it’s probably bleeding cytotoxins into his body, and that’s bad.” She pulled an emergency blanket from another pocket, the tin-foil texture crinkling as she shook it out. “Let’s protect him from the hypothermia, at least.” She said as she wrapped the blanket around the Sectoid. “You got a name, hon?”

The Sectoid moved his lips, but barely any sound came out. Seeing the two staring at him blankly, the Sectoid seemed to huff and reached out towards the ground again, his sharp fingernail began to carve the shapes into the loose dirt while Malinalli and Gur-Rai watched intently.

“V…” Malinalli squinted. “Is that a 5?”

“I think it’s an E.” Gur-Rai said. “V-E-R...9-E?”

“Why is there a random 9?” She asked.

“Maybe it’s supposed to be a g.” He nodded. “So, that spells Verge.”

“Verge?” Malinalli furrowed her brow. “Are you sure it’s not Virgil?”

“He wrote it, Molly.” Gur-Rai shrugged, standing up with Verge wrapped up like a burrito in his arms. “In any case, let’s worry about names when he’s not-”

“-dying. Yeah.” She stood up and pressed a button on her comm link. “Hey Tygan? I have another patient for you.”

.

.

When they showed up at camp again, they attracted a lot of attention. People seemed to stop their conversations to look over at the two agents bringing a tin-foil wrapped Sectoid toward the Avenger. Gur-Rai kept his back straight and his eyes ahead, letting his posture speak for him. Malinalli, on the other hand, seemed to shrink inward under the scrutiny of the people.

Gur-Rai heard footsteps and saw his sister approaching him. He nodded to her. “Sister! I would wave but as you can see, my hands are full.”

“Yes, I do see.” She said worriedly. “Gur-Rai, what on Earth do you have?”

“A Sectoid.” He said simply.

She walked alongside him briskly. “Is it dead?”

Verge raised a finger, and Kon-Mai jumped back. 

“Nalla itzar!” She yelped. “How is it alive?!”

“He’s a he, Sister, not an it. That’s rude.” Gur-Rai grinned. “And his name is Verge.”

Kon-Mai stared at him in disbelief. “You have NAMED it?!”

“Him, Sister, HIM!”

“Fine! Him! You-”

“Of course not. He told me that was his name.” Gur-Rai nodded, looking very proud of himself.

“Well...why did you bring him here?!”

“We’re gonna see if Tygan can fix him up.” He said. “Malinalli did what she could, but she is only a nurse and-” He broke off as his foot hit the metal dock of the Avenger, and he looked up with a smile. “Hello, Commander.”

Senuna, for once, did not greet the Chosen with a smile, but a look of deep discomfort as she saw the Sectoid in Gur-Rai’s arms. Behind her, Zhang leaned forward on his cane, his eyes glistening with barely concealed anger and panic.

“As you can see, I have a wounded soldier here.” Gur-Rai said. “I need to get him to Tygan ASAP.”

Zhang turned to the Commander. “I know what we just discussed, Senuna, but you cannot allow this.” He insisted. “That is a Sectoid.”

Gur-Rai raised his brow. “Now now, Zhang, let’s not be hasty. He’s in dire need of care, and he’s hardly a threat to you.”

“I do not care.” Zhang’s voice trembled with barely disguised fear. “Those hings...that thing…” His hand went to his stomach, and the stitches that held it together. “Senuna, I am begging you. Don’t bring it on board.”

“Look, I get it, you’re dealing with a lot right now, Zhang, and I am very sorry for that.” Gur-Rai snapped. “But Verge here was attacked by ADVENT soldiers. He must have pissed them off. And if he annoyed ADVENT enough to get shot at, he’s a friend in my book.” Gur-Rai adjusted Verge, the Sectoid’s limp head lying in the crook of his neck. “Now, let me on the ship.”

“Commander.” Zhang spat. “You cannot agree to let that Sectoid in. If you do, I…” He didn’t seem willing to finish his sentence.

Malinalli hung back beside Kon-Mai, the two women staring at the conflict before them helplessly. Malinalli desperately wanted to interject, but she had already spoken out of turn once before. She couldn’t win such a fight again so soon. Kon-Mai put a calming hand on her shoulder, her own cool magenta eyes watching the fight with intent.

Senuna looked back and forth between the Chosen and her dear friend. She looked lost. Her hands trembled and she clasped them in front of her, maintaining a stiff, militant posture. She opened her mouth to Zhang, but then looked at Gur-Rai, and ultimately said nothing.

“Commander.” A strong, soothing voice said behind her. Dr. Tygan stepped up, pulling a stretcher behind him. “According to the Medical Neutrality Protection Act, it is my duty as a physician to treat those in need as I see fit, regardless of political affiliation. Therefore, on medical authority, I am taking this Sectoid on board.” He didn’t even wait for her response as he nodded to Gur-Rai to follow him.

Zhang and Senuna stared at the two in disbelief as Gur-Rai walked right past them, laying Verge’s limp body gently onto the stretcher and following behind as Tygan pulled it toward the infirmary. As it shuddered over the patchy floor, Verge opened his eyes slightly and reached out, searching for Gur-Rai’s hand. The Chosen took it and gave it a soft pat.

“You’re on your way, friend.” Gur-Rai chuckled. “Don’t you worry; you’re safe now.”

Zhang sighed and shook his head, making his way back into the ship. “I suppose you couldn’t stop that, could you?”

“Of course not.” Senuna mused. “Medical authority...I rarely hear him pull that card.” Her eyes lingered on the disappearing stretcher, and a slight smile crossed her lips. “Chilong, will you be alright?”

“Define alright.” He grumbled. “I’ll be...resting if you need me.” Turning away from her, he hobbled back down the hall.

Kon-Mai touched Malinalli’s shoulder. “Come.”

“What about the Commander?” Malinalli whispered. “And Verge-”

“Trust me.” Kon-Mai smiled. “If the Commander had wanted to stop this, she could have.” 

Malinalli fell silent. “...So she-”

She nodded. “Now, I must return to my work. And so must you, Molly.”

.

.

“I owe you one, big time.” Gur-Rai said as he transferred Verge from the stretcher to one of the beds.

“You don’t owe me anything.” Tygan insisted as he began to start up the larger scanner. “I would have helped either way. Sectoid or not, he is still a living being.”

“Right you are, Doc.” He let go of Verge’s hand, the Sectoid’s arm falling limp. “Will he be ok?”

“Only time will tell. But he’s survived this long…” Tygan bobbed his head from side to side. “With luck, and a bit of skill, he will live to tell the tale.” Tygan touched a button on his comm. “Victoria Immanuel and Chinonso Chikere, come to the Infirmary please.”

“Well in that case, I leave you to your work.” Gur-Rai said with a bow. “Unless you need help.”

“I think you leaving would be the best help.” Tygan muttered.

Gur-Rai backed out of the room, glancing back at Verge one last time as Tygan began shoving that god-awful breathing tube down his throat. He winced a bit, and almost turned around and insisted he remain.

Tearing his eyes away, he exited into the hall, where the Skirmisher woman from before was waiting, her legs crossed and looking lost in thought. One hand rested absently over her stomach.

Gur-Rai nodded to her, and she looked up, staring at him for a moment.

“Will I be seeing you around the Avenger?” He asked.

She hesitated for a moment, then she nodded. “Someday. This war is a long one after all. And I have a while to go.”

He smiled and saluted her. “Well then; keep fighting the good fight, soldier.” With a wink, he traipsed off into the darkness.

.

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.

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(Yes I love Verge too much. Sue me. I had to. :3

I needed an explanation as to why his name is Verge, I know others like @chimerathesquad have an explanation for it, but I like to think it’s because Malinalli and Gur-Rai had to share the brain cell that day~)

Archive: https://chosenstories.tumblr.com/

#xcom #xcom 2 #xcom 2 war of the chosen #xcom the chosen

[splat-dragon]

These Broken Wings Can't Learn To Heal

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21063878 @whumptober2019

Micah had tried to get him to show him his wings, more than once.

‘We’re both Sons of Dutch, and that makes us brothers.’

People tended to show their wings to family. After all, who else could you bear your literal soul to? 

He wasn’t entirely sure what Micah’s endgame was, but he knew it wasn’t anything good. The man had even flashed his own at him, once or twice, ‘accidentally’ letting him get a glimpse of his Lammergeier wings. And even those few second glimpses were enough to set unease deep in his stomach.

You never killed someone without it leaving a mark deep on your soul. Never lost someone without it showing on your wings. It was just a part of their lifestyle, a part of being an outlaw.

Yet Micah’s wings were flawless. Black and cream feathers were unmarred, as smooth and unharmed as a young child’s. He had seen, perhaps, a dull patch near the joint, where the feathers had fallen out and failed to grow back right, but it could just has easily been a trick of the light.

Arthur couldn’t remember the last time he had shown someone his wings.

His mother used to coo over them, he remembered, over their rich brown color. But then she’d died, and a great wound had torn his right wing from tip to scapula, and the color had dulled. And his pa had taken to snarling at him, telling him he had no right to still be bleeding, and he’d taken to hiding his wings.

He’d joined up with Dutch and Hosea, and they walked around with their wings out. Some part of him knew it was an attempt to put him at ease, to show they trusted him, and to some extent it worked. It took years before he felt comfortable to unfold his own wings, let them ripple into visibility—and it was the first time he had seen them since he was a child.

He’d been groggy, blinking blearily into the campfire. Funny enough, it had been a lazy day. Their camp was set next to a lake, and they’d spent it fishing. He had no adrenaline in his veins to keep him wide awake, to keep him from sleeping, and his stomach was full with Hosea’s catch.

It had been a sharp inhale, an intake through clenched teeth, that had drawn his attention. He’d looked up to see Hosea looking pointedly at Dutch, barely able to make out a hissed ‘stop staring’, realizing that Dutch wasn’t staring at him, but something behind him.

Behind him.

His wings.

His wings?!

He stiffened, looking between Hosea, who had averted his gaze, and Dutch, who was trying to look away but kept darting his eyes back. They had their wings out—Dutch, with his patchwork, too small Magpie wings, and Hosea, with his too big, tufted Albatross wings. Both of them showed the scars of their past, yet they had allowed him to see their souls since the moment they took him in.

So, clenching his fists in his thread-bare jeans, he turned to look at them.

They weren’t as dull as they’d been. Weren’t almost black, and far less greasy. And his wound… his wound had stopped bleeding. The feathers around it weren’t even stained with blood, it had healed, scarred over to nothing more than a thin white line, bare of feathers. It was hard to believe that, last he saw, it had been the span of his hand.

He didn’t take to walking around with his wings out. Would let them show when he was comfortable, or drunk, or drowsy, but not for no reason at all.

As their gang grew, he showed his wings less and less. He showed them to Bessie, and Annabelle, once or twice, before they died, and it was inevitable that Susan and John saw them. But Javier, Bill, Lenny and the others, they didn’t even know what type of wings he had.

He knew that Javier’s wings were those of a robin, and Bill’s those of a rhea. Knew that Sean’s were a blue jay, Uncle a seagull, the O’Driscoll (“I’m not an O’Driscoll!”) a ruby crowned kinglet, and Marston was a red-tailed hawk. But none of them knew that he had the wings of a golden eagle.

As members came and went, they left marks on his wings. Samuel and Melissa Jones—a clump of feathers torn out of his left wing as he buried them—Robert McKinnley: a bend at the tip of his wing when he saw him at the head of the group of lawmen charging into their camp. Young Jackson Hewitt, a thumb size gash in his right wing as he wasn’t fast enough to shoot the noose.

Eliza and Isaac, a break in his right wing so severe it left the tip dragging along the ground.

And then Mac, crumpled feathers, and Davey, a small gash in the center of those. Jenny, ruffled feathers along his alula, and Sean, when he thought the boy was dead, bent secondary primaries on his right wing. And then, as Sean folded to the ground, still grinning, those secondary primaries tore free of his wing, leaving a wide, bleeding wound.

He showed his wings to Hosea one time, went hunting with him in search of a giant bear. Dozed off next to the campfire, half drunk on beer, relaxed for the first time in ages, just he and his pa like it had been years ago.

But he’d been woken up by a choked gasp, reaching for his gun, thinking someone was hurt. It was just Hosea, though, he’d realized quickly, his eyes wide and pained, hand over his mouth. “Hosea-?” he’d started to ask, before catching movement out of the corner of his eye.

His wings were out, and Hosea’s eyes were locked on them, beginning to glass over.

He’d hidden them, and they hadn’t spoken of it again.

Arthur had taken pains to hide his wings from his pa’s as best he could after that; he never wanted to see that look on his face again—on either of their faces.

But he couldn’t help but to punish himself, stare into the mirror and unveil his wings, remind himself of how he had failed to protect every last one of those scars.

And then Kieran had died. Well, he’d discovered that the man had died. At the time, he had been a little preoccupied, first with fighting off the wave of O’Driscolls, and then with sending the man off to be buried. It hadn’t been until he’d been washing himself off, stopping to look himself over in the mirror, that he’d seen a decent sized bald patch on his left wing.

Huh.

He hadn’t realized that he’d cared about Kieran that much, had expected nothing more than some ruffled feathers. Yet the wound ached, and itched, and there was nothing he could do but wait for it to heal.

Hosea died, then. He’d never felt such pain, as his wing crumpled, hollow bones shattering, giving way as though someone had taken his wing in their hand and squeezed it as tightly as they could. And he had seen Javier cower, clearly in pain as well, Dutch’s face blanching in that way it did when he was trying to hide his pain. But they hadn’t been able to suffer their pains, too busy trying to escape, and then Lenny died and that pain, too, the awful tearing as a strip of primaries was yanked out of his wing, blurred in with Hosea’s.

Things began to grow tense, and people turned on each other. Bill became more aggressive, Javier began to snap at him. And Dutch… his only remaining pa… began to distrust him, too. Was beginning to slip, had murdered an old lady in cold blood back in Guarma. His wings began to dull, again, so dark he could mistake them for black tinted brown. And the sicker he got, the duller they became, and the tearing pain from Hosea became a jagged throb that never quite went away.

He never much liked Miss O’Shea, but he’d grown to trust her. So when she claimed to have betrayed her, a fistful of his marginal coverts bent. And when Susan shot her, they crumpled, grasped in an invisible fist.

“Dutch… I need help!”

Yet Dutch had walked away, and his wing had exploded into pain. If he hadn’t known it was impossible, he would have thought that one of the soldiers had stomped on it, had shattered his wing into so many tiny little pieces that he’d never be able to put them all back together.

Eagle Flies saved him, at the cost of his own life. The boy died, and a scrape tore at his scapulars; his heart, his wings, ached for poor Rain Falls as he heard the man cry out his pain, could only imagine the agony in his wings, the scar that had been left on his soul after the loss of his wife and both sons. The break in his wing from Eliza and Isaac, his girl and his son, ten years later still ached; he couldn’t imagine the pain that Rain Falls was in.

And then he thought John died, and he couldn’t breathe through the pain. He’d watched John get shot, watched him fall off the train and out of sight. His wing had itched, begun to ache more in his primaries, as though preparing to break, although he’d told himself ‘He’s okay, he’s okay, he’s fine. He’ll come riding up on Old Boy and laugh at you for fussin’.’ But Dutch had rode up, saying that there was nothing he could have done, and his wings had exploded, he could feel his crooked wing, ruined from Eliza and Isaac and Dutch but not from Hosea, tear open, a wound that spanned the entirety of the inside of his wing, splattering blood on the ground that no one could see.

Dutch shattered the last shreds of hope he had in him, dismissed Abigail as ‘just a girl’ and abandoned little Jack to be an orphan, and the pain was dull, and weak, little more than a small ache that didn’t come close to standing up to the one in his chest, in his throat, as some of his secondaries came loose—some part of him, some morbid, self-hating part of him, wanting to look at himself in the mirror, see how crumpled his wings were, how bald, how much blood they splattered on the ground, how much of them dragged as he walked. But he was sending Tilly and Jack off to wait for the boy’s mother, and he and Sadie were riding off to save Abigail.

John was alive, and his wings didn’t hurt so much. He could feel the wound seal up, flesh knitting together, feathers regrowing exactly as they’d been before, bald where they’d been bald, scarred and crumpled and ruffled and dull, but feathered all the same.

When Dutch pulled a gun on them, sided with Micah, it shouldn’t have hurt. His pa’s betrayal had been a long time coming, and some part of him had known that, no matter what he said, Dutch would still stand by Micah. He had never been good at admitting that he’d been wrong, and he’d been so wrong, the consequences had been so bad, there was no way he’d take the fall. Never admit that Mac and Davey, Jenny and Sean and Lenny, Kieran and Molly and Susan (oh, god, that had hurt, he’d known her since he was young and his wing had torn open), and poor, poor Hosea had all died because he’d thrown his lot in with the wrong person.

Even still, a wound had torn into his wing, a gash the length of his palm that burned like nothing else, and left him panting for breath as he fled with John, barely feeling the bald patches form as Javier and Bill sided with Micah, as well. It was expected, but they’d been brothers, once, and it still hurt.

He was dying, and Dutch did nothing. Was staring at him, no, staring beside him, eyes glistening.

Arthur looked at his side, and couldn’t help but to laugh. He couldn’t feel his body anymore, everything tingled, only the pain in his soul, in his wings, telling him that he wasn’t yet dead. He didn’t know when he’d lost control of his wings, but they had rippled into existence at some point, stretched out on the stone beneath him.

They were a truly ghastly sight, and some part of him mourned that he had failed, yet again. He’d tried, he had, to keep his pa’s from having to see his horrid wings, yet here they were on full display before Dutch.

It was impossible to tell what species of wing he had, he could have been an over-sized crow or a particularly dull kite. There were great swatches that had gone completely bald, only irritated, pink skin left behind, only a few patches of feathers left between those and the bleeding wounds. Blood dripped and oozed onto the ground, vanishing the moment it touched the stone, some of his few remaining feathers breaking loose and doing the same.

They were barely recognizable as wings, besides. So crumpled and bent, like they’d been crushed in a fist and stomped on by a horse.

When… when had this happened? Dutch remembered when Arthur was young, when his wings were handsome and gleaming, a shade of burnt caramel that had fit him perfectly. Only the scar from his mother to mar him. And now… now his soul was broken, was destroyed.

“Oh, Dutch,”

And, just for a moment, Dutch slipped, and Arthur could see his magpie’s wings. Dull, too, dull, and ragged and bent and scarred, and he knew which wound was Hosea’s because it was still wide and open and weeping, yet he must have been seeing things because, as he watched, the man’s face blanched with pain, and both of his wings snapped at the joint, hanging limply as his had done when it was just Eliza and Isaac.

Eyes wide and glassy, wings dragging behind him and dripping blood that dissolved as soon as it hit the ground, Dutch staggered away.

Micah screamed yet, somehow, Arthur knew that, if he could see his wings, they would be unchanged, and stormed away. Even as his wings folded, crumpled inwards by an invisible hand that grabbed him and clenched tight, forcing his wings towards his torso, uncaring that they couldn’t bend in such a way, he couldn’t help but to laugh, beginning to drag himself to the edge of the cliff.

Arthur Morgan died, his wings still dripping blood and shedding feathers as they glowed gold and faded away.

#whumptober2019 #au: wingfic #au: wings #au: soul #Red Dead Redemption #red dead redemption 2 #Red Dead Redemption Spoilers #red dead spoilers #red dead redemption 2 spoilers #cw: graphic depiction of injury #major character death #angst #hurt #Hurt no comfort #arthur #arthur morgan #wingfic #no. 15 #no.15 #no 15 #scars #fanfic #fan fic #fanfiction

[funkymeihem-fiction]

Chapter 14

The junkers watched, heads moving back and forth steadily as they followed her pacing. She’d been walking in circles for at least a few minutes now, from one side of the tiny room to the other whilst muttering in her native language and her gaze somewhere far off. Neither of them opted to say anything further on the matter, and even Junkrat seemed to know to zip it lest he further the mental tailspin. Neither he nor Roadhog had cared much beyond a ‘Crikey, look at that’ when they had realized what happened, but neither of them had the history or loyalty to the Overwatch cause that Mei had…nor the anxiety about schedules and stolen lifespans. They figured it was best not to interrupt. She finally turned to them after a while, still looking a bit shocked and lost. “We…we need to call someone. We need to tell Winston- tell everyone that we’re okay. We’re not gone. We’re still alive.” “Workin’ on it, lovey. Place is just a bush ranger’s shit-heap, equipment here’s bodgy but I reckon I can get a signal out. But hey, we’re safe and we got provisions now. It’s near on noon so why don’t you go uh…I dunno, do what ladies do, freshen up? They got a tub and everything. And then Roadie’s gonna make us piggie pancakes. S’like regular pancakes, but they got like little ears and a face on ‘em, and then you put syrup around ‘em to make ‘em look dirty-” “But we’re still alive…” Mei wasn’t really listening, starting to wander back and forth again.

“Yeah. Yeah, we’re still alive, darl. You want to maybe have a sit-down or anything? Can go back to bed if you need? Uh, we had to ditch my teas but I can still make you a…something?” Junkrat gave his partner a bit of a baffled look, scratching his head in that telltale uncomfortable way. Roadhog looked between them, shrugged, and lumbered back into the kitchen. Junkrat scowled, sending a middle finger his way. “Thanks for the fuckin’ help, Streetpig! Yeah, just dump that shit all over her brains and leave! Yeah, great. Dipstick.” Mei finally turned his way, her expression still heartbroken. “I’m going to just…I guess I need to go think? Sorry. I’m sorry.” “You put her back in apology mode, Roadie you fucker!” Junkrat groaned, then went to warily approach her, offering out a hand. “Here, lookit. Gonna put you in the bathroom so you can get sorted, roight? It’ll make ya feel better. Hey, we’re all alive. You just sit back for a bit while I get the comms working, everything’s still good. You’re safe, I’m safe, Hog’s stupid arse is still safe, it’s good.” She let him take her by the hand and usher her towards the bathroom, nodding in a distracted way along with his words. “Sorry…No, you’re right. I guess it’s just all a bit startling. I know I didn’t have time to do any calculations during the storm but…four months wasn’t something I expected. At all. Four months. Four months went by. Gone. They’re gone. And they think we’re gone. Oh my gosh, I told them two weeks and we just vanish without a trace for so long? What if they think we’re dead? What if they tried to send help? What if-” She realized that she was entirely alone, standing and babbling to herself where Junkrat had left in her in the bathroom, and roughly patted at her cheeks to try and snap herself back into reality. She’d vaguely heard something about them all being safe for now. And they were. She had time to herself to try and work her way through it, and wandering around in a tizzy wouldn’t help. She made herself take several deep breaths, exhaling and counting to ten, before examining her surroundings. The bathroom was a tiny side room with that same awful faded wallpaper, with a bone-dry toilet and cracked sink and…she guessed technically it was a tub. When Junkrat had mentioned a tub, she had expected white porcelain or laminate, with scalding hot water and enough bubbles to smother her, perhaps a few rubber duckies for companionship… What she had was more of a wash bucket made of dull gray tin with handles on both sides, and a large plastic container of water sitting nearby. Another item caught her eye. A tube of toothpaste was sitting on the sink and she fell upon it eagerly, squeezing a dab out onto her fingertip. It had literally been months without a toothbrush, and she was eager for clean teeth. Not that she had a toothbrush here either- and she wouldn’t have used a suspicious outback safehouse’s toothbrushes even if there had been one- but a clean mouth was a godsend at this point. She began rubbing the toothpaste all over her teeth and gums, sighing happily. A tingling sensation filled her mouth, followed by a slight stinging. Goodness, Australian toothpastes must have been made stronger than what she was used to. It almost hurt. But at least her mouth would finally feel fresh and clean, and minty and…was that a hint of iron? Her brows furrowed and she held the sides of her jaw, grasping for a nearby water jug as she poured some into her mouth, swishing furiously before spitting. The water splattered into the basin of the sink, swirled with toothpaste foam and tinged with red. She stared at it for a moment before spitting again; less toothpaste, even more red. Blood. Her gums were bleeding. That was certainly concerning…But then again, she had just put strange toothpaste in a mouth that hadn’t seen proper hygiene in who knows how long. Making a face, she swished with more water and spat until it ran clean. Now for the rest of her. She struggled to lift one of the heavy water canisters, spilling a bit onto the floor as she managed to haul it to the edge of the tub, watching as it made loud glug-glug-glug noises and filled the little washtub. It may not have had floral-scented bubbles or rubber duckies, but it looked heavenly all the same. She climbed in and tried to relax, though it was just barely large enough to fit her kneeling down, and worked on scrubbing the dirt and dust from her poor battered body. The water soon ran brownish-gray, revealing skin covered in bruises and sunburns. Ugh. There was no shampoo in sight, but she tried to rinse her hair out as best she could, dunking it under the water and raking her hands through it. It was going to feel so good, finally free of all that grime… She dumped more water over her head before lifting upright, sputtering and wiping at her face before staring down at the dirty water, doing a double take. Dirty didn’t even begin to describe it. It was filthy, and there were stray hairs floating all over the surface. In fact, there were a lot of stray hairs. A lot- a LOT- of stray hairs. Too many. She hauled her dripping body out of the tub, slipping on the linoleum as she made a dash for the mirror. Standing in front of it and staring blankly at her sopping wet reflection, she lifted a hand and went to comb her fingers through her hair. They shed away at her touch, falling away in entire clumps, and her hand began shaking as it drew back with an entire chunk of dark locks still attached, leaving a bald patch behind on her afflicted scalp as it fell away onto the floor. She couldn’t help herself, grabbing another lock of hair and pulling, watching as it came away too, and again, until the floor was littered with brown strands. She looked down at her shaking hands, then back at her own shellshocked and silent reflection, before she opened her mouth and screamed.

It was high-pitched and perhaps a little overly feminine, almost comical. But it certainly caught attention. There was a ruckus of noise outside as a peg leg clattered down the hallway, before a loud pounding shook the door. “Oi, Mei! Mei, what’s wrong!” She felt over her bald spots, mouth moving but no sound coming out, even as the pounding outside continued until the door almost came loose in its bolts. There was the sound of feet moving away, before a loud announcement of, “I’m kickin’ the door down!” She found her voice again. “Don’t! Don’t k-” The feet were already moving, running straight at the door with a loud and very heroic Reinhardt-inspired “HRRRAAAH!” before there was the sound of splintering wood. Instead of the door breaking open as expected, there was instead a piercing crack, as a metal peg went straight through the cheap plywood, the force of it shoving through all the way past the knee joint, followed by the crash of a body outside, falling to the floor. There was a moan, before Junkrat’s muffled voice sounded from the crack at the bottom of the door. “Ow! I forgot which foot I kicked with! I’m stuck! Mei, can you give my peg a push! Can you- Okay, Roadie’s here now! Roadie, bust it!” “No! I said not to-” There was the sound of much heavier footsteps, drowning out her protests, before the enormous junker thrust out one huge fist and gave the doorknob a love tap. The doorknob and locking mechanism shattered instantly as the door was pushed open, dragging the unlucky Junkrat on the floor on his back as he slid along with it, still caught by the knee joint. “We’re here, love! What’s the trouble!” For a moment they just stared at one another, Junkrat’s neck craning from his position on the ground and Roadhog bending over slightly to be able to see into the doorframe. Mei stood in front of the mirror, surrounded by scattered clumps of hair and as naked as the day she was born, shining wet as she vainly tried to cover herself with both arms. She locked eyes with Junkrat, whose pupils dilated as his cheeks turned red, his jaw dropping open senselessly as if he had beheld the gates of paradise themselves. “AAAAAAHHHHH!” Mei promptly began screaming again, hunching over and backing away as she looked for anything nearby to hide behind. “Get out! Get out of here!” Roadhog bellowed and physically flailed, lifting a hand to cover the eyes of his mask as he groped blindly for the doorknob, finding it and pulling the door shut as hard as he could. Unfortunately this did not work as well as expected, and merely set Junkrat to shrieking as his leg was still firmly caught in the plywood and dragged him along, smashing his torso between the door and the frame several times as he kicked and struggled, finally managing to wrench his peg back the other way and diving to freedom as Hog slammed the door closed behind him. He lay there holding his side, groaning as fresh bruises spread over his ribs. “Think that coulda gone better. Hooley dooley, though, did you see, uh…She was all…” He flopped over onto his back, staring at the popcorn ceilings. “Like an angel, Roadie, like in the picture books. But ya know, more shiny and wet and real mad at us.” “Hair fell out.” “Huh?” “Her hair was falling out. It was on the floor.” “Ooooh…Yeah, she probably ain’t used to that part. What do we do? How do you treat a lady’s first radiation sick? Is there some sort of gentleman thing I gotta do? Do I like, leave ‘er alone or try to comfort her or what? Should I go back in there? I probably should-” Roadhog caught his hand as it moved towards the knob, grasping Rat’s entire bony arm and proceeding to drag him away down the hall. “No.”

Mei had found a small and rather unpleasantly crunchy old towel in a cabinet, and had wrapped it around her as she sat on the lid of the toilet. She was shaking all over, staring at a wet clump of hair in her fist as she felt over the bald spots around her scalp and tasted more blood in her mouth, though she couldn’t tell if it was her gums or from biting her tongue during the chaos. She felt a little odd. Not just the hunger in her gut or the certain radiation poisoning she had, or even the remnants of the ice from her cryo-stasis. This was darker and more primal and made her uncomfortable. She was mad. No, not just mad. Furious. No, more than furious. Enraged. Irate. Riled. Fènnù. Shēngqi. No, not even those. There was no word she knew in English, Mandarin, or any other language for the type of anger she felt. Usually her anger was accompanied by tears and frustration. This was something deeper and more sinister. She didn’t want to cry. She couldn’t even cry, there were no tears in her. This wasn’t just anger. It was hatred. She hated everything. She wasn’t the sort to hate. In fact, it was almost alien to her. If there was something wrong, she normally bustled about to try and fix it instead, or encouraged others to see the brighter side of things no matter how dreary the prospects. Rarely, if ever, had she ever felt this deep and hopeless void of anything else but hatred. She hated that her hair was falling out and her mouth tasted like blood and she was bruised and burned all over. She hated Australia. She hated that she had ever wanted to come here. She hated the stupid, brutish people in this stupid, brutish country. She hated herself for thinking they were ever worth helping. She hated Winston for letting her come here even though she’d forced him to. She hated Junkrat. She hated Roadhog. She hated this entire horrible roadtrip. She hated Bobbero and his stupid ugly teeth, and the way he’d tried to kill Jamison and gave them that shitty van. She hated Tilda and her bikers for making her kill them. She hated that she had lost four more months of her life, four months of time that she would never get back, added on to the life that had already been taken from her. She hated that she even cared about these horrible storms, she should have just let them rage! Rage and let them wipe out this whole godforsaken continent! She stood, hands balled into trembling fists. Most of all she hated that she was feeling hate. That she’d been driven to this and punished for wanting to do something good with her remaining life, and instead more had been stolen from her. Not knowing what else to do, she whirled around and lashed out, slapping a palm against the mirror above the sink. She glanced up and saw her reflection, red-eyed and bruised and so tired looking, with raggedy patches of her bare scalp all over. She slapped her reflection, slamming her hand against the rattling mirror several times until her fist suddenly balled up and she punched it as hard as she could. Even in her greatest rage she was weak, and instead of shattering into a billion satisfying pieces, it merely dented inward and suffered a few small cracks. Of course. The one thing in Australia that she wanted to break, and she couldn’t even accomplish that. She felt like she should want to cry, but just wasn’t able. She wanted to make it all go away, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t do anything. So she sat down on the floor, amongst the scattered locks of her hair, and tried to ignore her own dark thoughts.

Mei didn’t emerge from the bathroom for hours. Junkrat had tried once or twice to knock gently at the door and ask if things were all right, but received no answer. Roadhog told him to just wait it out and went about his business. But Junkrat was not very good at waiting. Instead he had tried to think of various ways he could cheer her up. Hog had immediately vetoed the idea of grenade juggling, which irked Junkrat because he had become extremely good at juggling and practiced often when bored, and the grenades were the most exciting things to juggle and would really wow her, but Hog still said no. He wished he had been able to bring his teas with him. Then he could have brewed an entire cauldron of strawberry tea with lots of tapioca pearls, just for her…but she wouldn’t keep it all for herself. No, she’d want to share it with him, and they could drink it together under the stars she liked so much and they could share tea-flavored kisses. But he wasn’t that fond of strawberry and he didn’t have his teas anyway, so that wouldn’t work. Barbecuing her favorite meal was right out. She didn’t like meat and the provisions at the safehouse were both out of date and not very glamorous. The only thing he had was explosives, which she didn’t like at all, and piles upon piles of broken equipment. So he began rummaging through the broken pieces of scrap and circuitry and piles of tools, trying to find something, anything, that might make her smile again. And he knew it had to be something good. He knew what to do when she was crying, he could comfort her pretty well if she was just crying. The fact that she was alone and silent…that was making him very worried indeed. Night had fallen by the time she finally vacated the little bathroom, shaking her head to Roadhog’s offers of something to eat and ignoring the pleading growls of her empty stomach. Instead she returned to the creaky iron bed, climbed in, and didn’t move for the rest of the night. Junkrat kept working.

She finally roused herself a little before noon, when the snarling of her gut reminded her that its hunger pangs could be ignored no longer. She moved with a dull slowness, tired from oversleeping and exhausted from her own anger, but when she opened the door, she found Junkrat waiting for her, one fist raised as if to knock. Blinking down at her, he tried a smile. “G’day, Mei! You really slept in! But there’s still time for piggie pancakes. And…” he sighed. “We need to talk.” She shook her head. “Jamison…Please don’t. I’m just tired. I’m tired of bad news. Please don’t say we need to talk.” “Well…your hair…” He began, and then cringed when she turned her head away as if he’d struck her. “Look. You know I think you’re gorgeous no matter how much hair you got. But me saying that won’t help you feel better because…I mean, look at me.” He leaned down to gesture to his owned scorched and balding areas on his head. “But I gotta say it anyway. And I know you feel like crap warmed over right now, because who wouldn’t? Like, everything’s that happened, it’s been shit. And it kind of reminds me of this one story I got…” She sighed, looking down at the floor. “Please, not one of your big stories again.” “So this one time, I was feeling real shit, just like you. I mean it was real bad. I was on the run from a gang because my ‘friends’ had sold me out for a zack. And when I say on the run, I mean literally, I was running for my life, which was real hard because I’d lost a leg and didn’t have this beauty of a replacement yet, so I just had a crutch. So, I guess more hobbling for my life. I didn’t have barely no supplies, no food, no water, no place to go, so I shacked up in some junkyard I found where less folks wanted to murder me. Ended up stealing food and water out of a junk dog’s bowl. Couldn’t make a fire, so ate it raw. Bam! Dysentary!” “W-what?” She was looking at him like he was crazy, but at least she’d stopped sighing and staring at the floor, so he continued. “So yeah! Spent that week shittin’ meself and crying. I’ll save you the gory details, love, it was bad. Plus, my stump was gettin’ real bad infected. So I’m stuck in this junkyard with a swollen gut, an oozy leg, dry tongue, and no pals left who don’t want to turn my carcass into coins. I got real mad. Got real mad at everything.” She just nodded. “Okay?” “So I decided I’d beat a tire with a stick I found, and it turned out that a bunch of bees had made a nest in there, and hittin’ them with a stick made them really mad. So they all came out at once, and it’s like…yeah, I hated life a lot at that point, but then I had to stop hating it because I was getting stung by a bunch of bees.” “Jamison, I have no idea where this story is going.” “Ya get it though!? I didn’t have time to hate life because I was still living, and I wanted to keep living so I was running from a bunch of bees! I mean, if I had really hated how things were that much, I would have just laid down right there and died from bees.” “Er, I really am not sure how this-” “But I didn’t! I got up and I hobbled my arse right out of there! I kept running from those bees! And you know what, I’m glad I did. Because after I got out of there, it got better. I met Hog and that was pretty good. I blew up some folks who wanted me dead, and that was also real good. I got to travel. I saw neat places and got to blow them up, really enjoyed that. Joined up with Overwatch which is okay I guess. But joining up with Overwatch means I got to meet you, darl! And let me just say…I’d gladly have a hundred days where I fucking hated existing and wished I wasn’t alive and where I’m getting stung by a bunch of bees, if it meant I got to meet you.” She turned away, but was smiling a little despite herself as she tried to piece together the sad absurdity of his story. “Your ideas of a pep talk are extremely strange and kind of romantic in a way I don’t understand at all.” He seemed heartened by her smile, nodding. “It’s like…yeah, shit sucks. But there’s some good shit too. It’ll get better, I can promise you that. I know you’re mad, real mad, about that ice eating up more of ya. But you lived through it all and you did so much that you can’t even see yet, and…you know, maybe don’t think about the ice eating you up. Because I was there, and Hog was too, and we were all together and it was more like we were all just taking a nap at the same time.” “That doesn’t even make sense but…thanks?” She offered out a hand and he took it, giving her a little reassuring little squeeze. “I’m sorry you have to keep doing this for me. I feel like I’ve been nothing but a pain for you two.” “It’s Oz, mate. Everything and everyone out here’s a pain. Including us. Me and Hog are just gonna get you through it with all four limbs still attached. Who knows, maybe one day you’ll look back on all this and laugh. That’s what I do. Besides, it ain’t all bad news. I got communications up! Aaaaaand someone else is real happy to see you! I think. I ain’t figured it all out yet.” He quickly lifted two fingers to his lips and whistled. There was a semi-familiar warbling sound as the little powder-blue drone hovered shakily into the bedroom, an antennae and circuit boards pasted onto its back. It was still dented on one side and its emoticon eyes were flickering and shifting in ‘I’m sick’ swirly symbols as it struggled to stay steady. “Snowball!” Mei brightened, holding out both arms. “You’re back!” The drone responded with a loud grinding noise that sounded more like an ancient modem starting up, rather than its usual cute beeps. It floated towards her, missed its mark, and went sailing over her head and into the far wall with a tone that sounded a bit like “BRRAAAPP.” She rushed forward to scoop it up as it tumbled down to the floor, hugging it anyway as its eyes shifted to a ^ ^ in happy recognition and uttering another loud flatulent mechanical noise. Junkrat coughed, looking to the side. “I mean, it’s a work in progress, but it’s sort of functioning again? So…it’s not all bad, right?” Her anger had subsided by now. It wasn’t entirely gone, had merely shifted into something a little more manageable. She was still frustrated and sad and far from happy, but she was at least feeling more herself again. She could already feel the tears coming on as she grasped Snowball in one arm and hugged the lanky junker with the other, uttering one of her horrid little undignified wet burbles against his chest. Junkrat’s grin returned fully, wrapping his embrace around her once more. “There she is! Aw, that’s it, you can cry and snot all over ol’ Junkrat as much as you like.” “I-I’m not s-snotty, and I’m s-sorry…” she sniffled noisily, defeating the point. “Sure. Come on, get it all out. We gotta make your SOS call later, but first…You have got to eat something, darl, your stomach sounds like it’s trying to get out of you.” He shepherded the red-faced Mei out of the bedroom and towards the kitchen. Roadhog was standing in front of the stove, wearing an apron that was far too small for him, its straps hanging uselessly at his sides as he gave his cook pan a flip. Junkrat sat Mei down before slumping down into a chair himself, beating a fist on the table. “Oi, Roadie! Give us a full stack! We’re starvin’ to death over here!” “Shut up,” the elder junker responded calmly, transferring the pig-shaped pancakes from pan to plate and setting them in the middle of the table. Junkrat barely gave Mei time to grab a few before he started dousing them in syrup and tearing into them with both hands. Mei and Roadhog chose to eat more primly, and with actual utensils. She was ravenously hungry, and even challenged Jamison for more, snagging a few more pancakes from the main stack before he could demolish them. Roadhog had partially lifted his pig-mask in order to eat once more, and without even looking her way, he paused and pulled something out of his pocket, holding it out to her. It was a makeshift headscarf, with two laces stitched on and bearing a patch with the familiar little pig-face symbol with the beady eyes and x-symbol nose on one side. He held out the crumpled mound of fabric in one huge palm, gesturing slightly up towards her patchy scalp. “Here.” She took it, running her thumb over the little pig before wrapping it around her head, tying the straps around the back of her neck and adjusting it so it hid the worst of it. It didn’t fix the problem, but not having to see it would certainly help more than he knew. Or maybe he did know. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Mm.” “BRRRT,” Snowball said.

#meihem #junkmei #meirat #fanfiction #mei #mei-ling zhou #junkrat #jamison fawkes #roadhog #mako rutledge #australia #outback #adventure #funkyfluff

[lozzielivandlupus-blog]

A not so happy anniversary!

So it’s been a year since my diagnosis and I thought do you know what... I’m going to write a blog... not only about the L word but also about my life in general and the marvellous little Olivia! 

Firstly I thought I’d share with you all the struggles and reality of the dreaded illness that is LUPUS and how the first year has been (effing awful in a nutshell!!) Here goes...

So, like many of you I had no idea what Lupus was, infact I’d never even heard of it. I just thought ‘Ah yeah, annoying rash, cream will fix that and I’ll be good to go’ HOW WRONG WAS I? One Friday night (shortly after diagnosis) Jack and I were getting ready to go out and I’m straightening my hair, Jack comes in and that moment was the start of my life beginning to crumble around me (sounds dramatic right?!) He says ‘Babe, I don’t want to freak you out but you’re losing your hair” Not fazed I said ‘Yeah, I know babe it comes out in clumps’ Then he takes a picture of the top of my head and there I saw the giant bald patch for the first time and that was the moment I lost my first bit of confidence and we broke down together. If only we knew what we were in for from that moment...

We really didn't know the seriousness of Lupus and just how quickly my body would turn on itself, from the alopecia, ulcers in my mouth, ears and nose, arthritis, tiredness like I've never felt even after sleeping 12 hours a night (the only way I can explain how I feel daily is that I have one savage motherfucking hangover!!) without the epic party the night before. Then there’s the rash, crikey the nasty rash that literally spreads like wildfire... thank goodness for Estee Lauder Doublewear!! 

I had 3 admissions to hospital in 2016, I contracted an infection from the rash which the consultant told me I would have been in a coma if I had gone to the hospital any later than I did, I’m surprised I don’t look like Arnie with the amount of steroids I’ve taken or had pumped into me over the last 12 months!! I take 5 different medications daily which is a mission in itself as I am a bloody wimp when it comes to taking tablets! I have to build myself up to taking them every morning and give myself a little pep talk, silly I know but it’s the only way to stop the deep anxiety that creeps up on me. Another dreaded symptom, the anxiety and the D word. I’ve always been this crazy, outgoing and super confident person, always the first to chat to people and make new friends and if Lupus has done anything to me it has taken that all away from me, I feel like I am a shell of a person now, I certainly do not recognise the person staring back at me when I look in the mirror ( I actually hate looking in the mirror) I feel like I am in this weird dream/nightmare and I’m waiting to wake up from it every single day and just go back to my old life... would be nice hey?!

Every day is SO different for me, some days I feel very depressed and so sad, I literally do not even want to exist and sob all day. Some days I manage a walk to the park with Liv (who may I add is my absolute angel and along with Jack honestly keep me going) other days I feel slightly better. I still get out of bed every morning and put a great big smile on my face and I’m Mum and that little girl will tell me I’m beautiful, that she loves me and ask me if I’m happy every day. 

I get worried that I will lose friends along the way of this dreaded journey because I do have to cancel a lot of plans, to be honest I can’t really make plans, some days the pain is so bad I can’t even move. It must sound like a cop out every time I say ‘I’m too tired’ But I promise its not. The worst thing is I don’t really look sick!! The best is when I’m told ‘Oh don’t be lazy and just walk’ LAZY?!!! HAHAHAHAHA! If I don’t laugh I’ll cry and I do that way to much as it is, Jack must be sick of my cry face by now!!

Then there’s the overwhelming guilt I have that I have ruined our lives as a family, the fact that I’ll never be able to take my little girl swimming because the chlorine will cause me to flare up or I’ll never be able to run around after her on the beach and as a parent simple things like that are absolutely heartbreaking. Also Jack has to see the love of his life suffering day in day out, for me that would be hell. I’m going to leave on a positive note today, I do have a husband who is my best friend and is the most understanding and caring person I’ve ever met and goes above and beyond for me... a daughter who, well we all know Liv, what a special little human she is! A fantastic family and friends who I miss more than anything, so it’s not all bad! 

Until the next time :-) x

#lupus lupusawareness mumswithlupus

[healtheffect2-blog]

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Shedding hair is part of a normal cycle of growth and substitution. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gYRPeDSZzGM go in the growth and resting cycle in the nonsynchronized vogue. But at times issues go Mistaken. All cells will need vitamin A for growth. This includes hair, the speediest growing tissue from the human overall body. Though biotin is utilised as a substitute hair-loss treatment, those people who are deficient have the most effective success. "It is achievable to get 1 or the other or the two," Kaufman states. "But if an individual isn't really going to use Rogaine twice every day, or go ahead and take Propecia capsule at the time everyday, he shouldn't utilize them." The term "ringworm" or "ringworms" refers to fungal infections that are on the floor from the skin. A physical assessment from the afflicted pores and skin, analysis of skin scrapings under the microscope, and culture checks may help Health professionals make the right distinctions. Got a query and can’t come across the right respond to on the internet? Fret not as Answeropedia welcomes you to raise a question and you may see a big range of authentic responses right away. Detergents are Utilized in regular shampoos to remove grease and dirt through the hair. They're also those that make foam, lather and bubbles. Though the unfortunate factor is most detergents irritate our scalp pores and skin and strip hair of its natural protecting oils, leaving it dry, frizzy and uninteresting. The prognosis for androgenic non-scarring hair loss is guarded due to actuality that there's no cure for the challenge. Medications has to be taken indefinitely. Other sorts of hair loss have a superb prospect of spontaneously resolving. Why we like it: This ultra awesome shampoo takes advantage of caffeine to stimulate hair growth and health. And it doesn’t Expense a lot more than $fifty for every bottle. Wow is a fresh player while in the hair loss scene. This Indian-American organization can make absolutely natural hair treatments at very affordable charges. This hair loss shampoo is designed that has a spectacular mixture of argan oil, biotin, caffeine, and pumpkin seed extract. Vichy right now is known to get among the best brands for skin treatment and hair care. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hair_Is_Falling from your brand is ideal for hair fall Handle. It might be a little bit above priced but then the outcome are worthwhile. It is just a actually deserving very best hair growth shampoo. The information delivered here is not health care assistance therefore is just not intended to exchange session having a health-related practitioner, and should not be treated instead to healthcare analysis or treatment out of your doctor, or any other licensed Health care Qualified. It is a little or localized hair loss region due to repetitive or persistent pulling or traction on hair roots. Anything you have to know concerning the ideal shampoos for hair loss Hair loss in both Males and women may well range between moderate and insignificant to significant.

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If Rogaine and also other hair growth solutions aren’t working for you personally, Ketoconazole just could. Similarly, you'll be able to usually use a shampoo together with a prescription products for additional safety.   https://twitter.com/steptoremedies/ complicated is made from stem cell-derived elements that stimulate cells and follicles to grow hair. This shampoo for hair loss has actually been proven to cut back hair loss by 21% inside of a few months. The advisable day by day dose of biotin is 2mg, so Natrol will make guaranteed you’re finding more than enough biotin (and an absence of it could cause thinning hair, brittle nails, and many others.). It also can come about on the experience in spots wherever the hair is usually styled. Plucking or waxing one particular's eyebrows usually, one example is, can yield suppressed hair growth in the region. visit rated hair loss shampoo can offer your scalp and hair follicles with critical nutrients that support prevent thinning or balding for the supply. With excellent high quality solutions, This can be accomplished by avoiding the terrible hormone cycle that locally leads to bald spots. What on earth is gotu kola powder, you ask? Nicely, it’s something which helps reduce hair loss Despite the fact that researchers aren’t a hundred% sure why. In the United States that quantities to around eighty million Males and forty million women now suffering from hair loss. Of course, a long lasting cure would minimize a large share in the inhabitants. When it sounds downright chemical, L Lysine Hydrochloride is surely an amino acid that helps battle hair loss. Collagen, among The key parts of hair, requires L lysine to soak up calcium for its generation. When One's body absorbs calcium, The body will make much more collagen. Additional Why is my hair falling out? It truly is genuine that Guys are more likely to reduce their hair than women, generally because of male sample baldness (far more on that later). With the Sanford-Burnham Health care Investigation Institute, they showed that stem cells derived from human skin to grow hair when grafted onto the pores and skin of mice. A paper describing this analysis, which was published on January twenty first 2015 are available right here in the PLOS One particular health care journal. Dr. Alexey, a member of the exploration crew made the following composed assertion: “Our stem cell method offers an infinite supply of cells through the client for transplantation and isn’t restricted by The supply of present hair follicles. Though Argan oil doesn’t specifically reverse hair loss, it does improve the elasticity of the scalp’s skin and fix the destruction a result of chemicals in harsh shampoos and conditioners. As constantly, taking in a balanced diet regime plentiful in fruits and veggies together with lean protein and “superior” fats like avocado and nuts is going to be excellent for your hair and also your overall well being. Chemical treatments, use of warmth appliances and vigorous styling can actually influence the hair root, creating hair loss (which might not have transpired usually). So maintain website for Specific instances only. A number of people get tattoos to simulate lost eyebrows and eyelashes. Certain medications may possibly sluggish hair loss, and alternative treatments may bolster the well being of remaining hair, but no treatment is probably going to switch an entire head of hair.

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While Propecia has much more regular outcomes, minoxidil is much more dependent on the consumer. Extraordinary results for instance new regrowth could be noticed in people who reply effectively, but They can be the minority. Minoxidil, like Propecia, is far better at hair routine maintenance. It will allow you to continue to keep the hair you do have for longer, but only if you utilize it each day. We preserve our audience updated on what's Operating, what's not, and what is actually over the horizon. Whether it's a review of the following new factor, or development towards a hair loss cure, you'll be the 1st to know. PURA D’OR is actually a manufacturer that prides by itself on locating a solution to any type of hair loss. The business’s Original Gold Label Shampoo contains a bunch of healthy elements that support to boost hair growth by repairing present strands and protecting new kinds from potential breakage. This hair regrowth shampoo provides a clinically-confirmed system with lots of Advantages. These new hair loss cures glance promising, but will they definitely become a cure or simply just another Propecia? Permit’s look at the positives and negatives of each upcoming treatment. As for your question, I don’t Assume It might be a massive dropoff in the least. I believe it will mainly be described as a comfort element. In that circumstance, I might suggest you utilize Nizoral 2 times each week (e.g. on Wednesday and Sunday) and use Lipogaine Large five as your “standard” shampoo. 1 merchandise to stop, when you haven’t Beforehand referenced it, is Pronexa. They are already ever more exposed being a semi-scam considering the fact that they offer free merchandise in Trade for 5-star Amazon reviews. Even though the shampoo/conditioner are great as just that, following three months of use I severely question their efficacy associated with hair loss and thinning. If suitable beard care is very important to you, then you're in all probability obtaining beard oil. But Imagine if I instructed ... Free of chemical compounds and sulfates, Lipogaine’s All Natural Shampoo is profitable at combating hair loss in Gentlemen and women. Should you have any uncertainties, the corporate provides a one hundred% gratification ensure or your money back, so you know you're obtaining a prime-rated shampoo that can battle flakes, thinning, and any issues that hinder your hair and scalp overall health. Argan oil usually takes Middle phase On this shampoo, which key ingredient is full of vitamin E and fatty acids to advertise healthful hair and skin. The result can be a strong components that nourishes your hair to avoid breakage or thinning. Castor oil also stops germs and dandruff from accumulating on your scalp, which means you don’t have to bother with any pesky dandruff and flakes displaying up. The Ultrax Shampoo is back again. I’ve transformed since they are usually not available anymore. I’ll be updating the checklist and including extra hair loss shampoos shortly. Keep tuned. On this area we go over a lot of the long term hair loss solutions which will be popping out in the coming many years. There are many hair loss cures coming in or all around 2020, and with any luck , there'll certainly be a mass industry solution. These contain treatable conditions like anemia and thyroid sickness and polycystic ovary syndrome (PCOS). These situations are diagnosed by blood checks along with a historical and physical evidence. While several scientific studies have proposed that baldness may be inherited throughout the mother's relatives genes, these theories involve even more tests. Present scientific studies are inconclusive. Although not indicated for female pattern balding, spironolactone (Aldactone) has experienced some achievements in treating this condition. In via steptoremedies.com ’s view It appears greater to choose Huge 5 and use Nizoral 2 times weekly to get your ketoconazole repair. Probably Domen can weigh in in this article as well.

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Keep in mind, hair loss is usually a symptom of An even bigger health and fitness dilemma. Masking up the symptom will not resolve the actual dilemma.It’s A lot more effective to repair the true challenge guiding hair loss (the root result in) as opposed to just masking the indicators.Anyway, let’s have a look at these three. There is also the secondary have an effect on to take into account. This is when the allergic reaction can lead straight to hair follicle miniaturization because it results in inflammation within the scalp which narrows the hole through which the strand of hair grows. You'll find anecdotal promises to aid the benefits, and there are numerous proponents and followers of the ancient apply. Some have even claimed hair re-growth on bald locations.  Much more on how to get it done and science driving this historic strategy: Simply click here Though further research is critical, it seems WAY-316606 may be a promising alternate to minoxidil and finasteride. Your just lately viewed things and highlighted suggestions › Perspective or edit your browsing historical past I believe that most of us have shed contact with what our bodies are telling us about the foods we’re feeding on, and being a consequence we frequently consume foods that induce important harm to our overall health. When not a lot of reports have already been to the plant’s use – specifically in patients with male-pattern hair loss – there are a few which offer a glimpse at its success. Exactly what does this imply for the way forward for platelet-abundant plasma treatment from the fight in opposition to hair loss? What's also exciting is pattern baldness is pretty much non-existent in stable indigenous populations. Even though nearly all the above modifications aren’t life threatening (other than heart rhythm modifications, which might go unnoticed), they can be bothersome and may guide you to really feel the Uncomfortable side effects aren’t worth the outcome. Male and woman sample baldness (also identified in scientific jargon as androgenetic alopecia) is not really a ailment, and so requesting a ‘cure’ is probably not the best way to think it over. I have straight hair, but I normally wished that my hair was curly. Most likely, it’s a human psychic to want what we don’t have. I thought of perming again and again, but under no circumstances truly did it. Eradicating these food items teams from the diet might allow you to grow back again shed hair that was due to delayed allergic reactions. I such as try in order to avoid gluten in my diet. You'll be able to remind by yourself to convey these affirmations when you are combing your hair or stroking it or massaging it. Deliver it appreciate and talk to appreciate and care and you will be surprised at how speedily you see the outcomes.