#but its been in my brain like a prion

[ara-kani]

I wish I was good at art cuz if I was I'd draw a million pictures of K Bladerunner with Harley Quinn Suicide Squad as a crossover.

Have Harley take the place of Joi but play up that she's the police partner to K and less of a love interest. Whatever she swings her bat through short circuits. Have K stop Harley from sacrificing herself for other people, unlike the original K with Joi. Its like the mirror image to Barbie, both thematically and aesthetically. They get to the memory facility and inside is Natasha Lyonne as Dr. Pamela Isley, who can't leave the lab because the poisoned LA air would immediately kill her plant-based physiology. Hologram Harley phases through the glass and kisses her in a bisexual awakening. Cillian Murphy plays Luv (still gets his nails lasered on). The villain is just Jared Leto. Not Niander Wallace and not Joker. Just the human Jared Leto (but keep the weird eye implants and the tattoos, I think they're funny)

[shameboree]

“ive never had a hyperfixation ever in my life” i say having been neurotically obsessed w prions and transmissible spongiform encephalopathies since i was actually for real 6 years old. i think about protein misfolding once a day at MINIMUM. blorbos come and go but prions are Literally forever

[iteratorsex]

Related to your take on Hunter's condition in vanilla canon:

I'd argue that it's been implied since the beginning that Hunter has rot (on a much smaller scale than an iterator's, a la equivalent to just cancer of some variety) going by the word association of "unfortunate" to both Hunter's condition and Five Pebbles' condition (Unfortunate Development).

What's your opinion on that bit of dialogue from Pebbles? (given prion disease is not necessarily something growing inside someone as far as my definitions are straight)

Sometimes words are reused in writing. I think that's a coincidence.

Someone else said its just normal cancer and I think this is the more true answer.

I only say hunter has kuru because it was a disease gained from eating raw meats and brains and I will use any excuse to bring up prions. (Ik itd from cannibalism more technically but)

Rot hunter is cool I guess but it takes away from the "karmaic imbalance" part of hunter which is arguably more important, as well as the karma flower spawning when hunter dies.

The rot makes it seem more like this was all some accident akin to Pebbles and not a deliberate choice Hunter made (or nsh made them do it. Idk) and is suffering the consequences from

[spinedog]

OK misunderstood how this works before I think? So,

Talk about chaotic biology (RWBY - Drabble)

You can request a drabble and ramble here! Scroll down to see what I've been asked about so far.

No worries at all!! It's a weird concept.

Gonna start putting all of these under a readmore to save dashboards but to summarize:

Ramble - You ever heard of prions? Mad Cow Disease? Chronic Wasting Disease? Ever wonder if it would be safe to eat a brain? Let's talk about that.

Drabble - I sure hope you like FR&HH universe (wild west RWBY au) because you weren't specific and my brain Went Somewhere

So let's talk about prions because I deal with them at work. Unlike bacteria (definitely alive) or viruses (not really alive), prions are Definitely Not Alive because it's just a protein molecule. In fact, it's one of the many specific proteins that your central nervous system needs to be alive and do its job - except, for some reason, this protein has just slightly misfolded. And that slight misfold causes a chain reaction and misfolds all of its buddies. And the brain responds, very normally, to this by turning into a sponge. This makes being a brain very difficult, to the point of dementia-like decline and then death.

But as horrible as this is, it shouldn't be contagious, right? WRONG! Some forms are! But don't worry, you're human, so as long as you're not eating the brains/nerve tissue of infected cows (or people) you'll be fine. Unless you have a family history of one of the human versions. Or you come into contact with contaminated medical equipment. Or if the deer version follows in the cow versions footsteps and breaks into us, because that's probably the most out of control prion disease at the moment.

So that's prions, the broken puzzle peice that causes Mad Cow Disease (cows), Scrapie (sheep/goats), Chronic Wasting Disease (deer and relatives), Creutzfeldt-Jakob Disease (humans), and many others. It is super rare in people, but always fatal when it happens - and it's the same death that a dementia or Alzheimer's patient would suffer. This is one of the many reasons why we have disease surveillance programs and why they're important.

sorry did i say chaotic biology i probably meant cursed biology let's do that drabble

---

Another night, another dimly lit saloon. It was well past the respectable man's bedtime, yet the crowd was still lively. Most were miners, merchants from the neighboring stores, some ragged farm hands that had snuck out for an evening, and of course the ever present dancing girls that circled around. Some gathered around a contentious poker game off to the side, others took to their individual tables to swap tales and gossip with their neighbors. But, as with any gathering spots, loners settled into the quiet spaces between hotspots. Corners, lonely tables, the quietest barstools.

She had found a nice little nook along the back edge of the bar to roost. The drunkard that usually guarded the spot had been dragged out by his boss early tonight, vacating the spot. All she had to do was slouch in his image, invisible to all but the bartender. An extra dime and a sideways look was all it took to silence him.

Not that she needed to worry all that much - she'd checked the wanted posters on the way in. Hers was laughably out of date. No one would recognize her here.

She slid her fingers across the table to her nearly empty glass, a habit born of many a misjudged distance. The girl was supposed to be here before her and she hated waiting. Once this beer is gone, so am I.

A light touch on her shoulder.

The outlaw didn't jump, to her credit. But as her hand sprung to her holster, her gaze flicked to the bartender. Not even glancing towards them, polishing a glass and speaking to a man in front of him. If whoever had approached her was any kind of danger, he'd be watching from the corner of his eye. She slowly turned.

A dancing girl, shorter than her even seated on the stool, leaned against her a little more, pink dress swishing, one eye closed in a wink.

"Ah. I'm not inter..."

The girl tilted her head, and opened the closed eye. A red pupil and pink iris contrasted sharply with the plain brown eye on the other side of her nose.

Amused, the outlaw exhaled sharply through her nose and spoke in a much lower tone. "Are you planning on giving that dress back to its owner, or is this a new career for you?"

Neapolitan gave a careless shrug as she sat down, careful to turn her back to the bartender. She'd tucked her hair up into the feathered cap, only allowing the brown side of the two-toned mop to escape. As for the paler patches of skin around her eye and face, makeup, low lighting, and an air of comfortable confidence did wonders. It was really quite a skill, such a distinctive looking person blending in so easily.

Knowing full well the shorter girl couldn't answer out loud, she hissed. "So?"

Neo raised her eyebrows. She opened a fan, fluttering it in front of her face with an innocent blink.

For a moment, her temper sparked. Then the outlaw saw a piece of paper, neatly tucked into the fan's hinge and folded with it.

Beacon. One of the sheriff's deputies is her daughter. I'm told she's still in the area.

The fan snapped shut. Mismatched eyes stared into her, the glare becoming pointed.

She sighed. A quick look to confirm no one was looking. Then she reached into the pocket of her jacket. The tiny gold bar was cold and heavy in her fingers as she passed it to Neo, who hurriedly shoved it into her bosom.

"Careful girl. You haven't got the volume to hide much." She muttered.

Neo dabbed at her right eye, as though wiping away a stray eyelash, with her middle finger.

She snorted to herself, turning away. She heard Neo flounce away more than she saw it, but waited a solid minute before standing. She slid one more dime across the bar, and fixed a hat onto her head. "Thank you for the service, sir."

The bartender snapped it up, returning to polishing the glasses. "Anytime, ma'am."

She was careful to tilt the brim as she walked out of the bar. She was distinctive enough herself.

The lean black mare tied outside hadn't stopped pawing the ground from the moment she walked in. Her nostrils were still flared wide, a trough cut into the ground under her still thrashing forefoot. "Enough, Midnight." An ear flicked at the name, but the mare only stopped once weight landed in the saddle.

Against her better judgment, her eye came to rest on the wanted posters nailed to the saloon wall. As if by poetic justice, the two of interest had been placed side by side.

One drawing was of a woman with long dark hair, eyes peircing through her even from a sketch.

RAVEN BRANWEN - CONSPIRACY, ROBBERY, MURDER. DEAD OR ALIVE, $5000.

The other contrasted sharply. A little girl, barely more than twelve. Dark hair, wild eyes, and jagged scars wrapping around her neck.

CINDER FALL - MURDER, ARSON. DEAD OR ALIVE, $1000.

Midnight leapt into a run and the town fell away around her. In her humble opinion, Cinder Fall done well to get this far; but there was always a bigger fish to become.

[saintsenara]

For the tag game can you tell us more about First Do No Harm :)

thank you very much, anon! first do no harm is an excellent choice from the work in progress tag game list.

provided you don't mind a bit of harrymort, with a snake-faced voldemort, rather than a hot one, that is.

[although - just as a pre-warning - i don't advise reading any further if you have health anxiety...]

i spend an inordinate amount of time thinking about the worldbuilding around wizarding medicine - and, in particular, how societal attitudes to illness and disability are changed by the fact that, canonically, magic can treat, cure, or render meaningless things which would, in our world, be considered permanent, chronic, life-limiting, or fatal.

[spoiler alert: i hate the fact that the series thinks this, since it pretty much justifies the blood-supremacist position that wizards and muggles are essentially different species... but that's a conversation for another day...]

the exception to the series' rule that wizards are more durable than muggles is its attitude towards brain injury and cognitive disability. the loss of cognitive function - which is implied to have a debilitating, irreversible impact on magical ability - is something the series finds uniquely horrifying. think of the brutal torture of frank and alice longbottom, the mind-altering power of the dementors, the fear of being placed under the imperius curse, and so on.

and i've been playing around a lot recently with how these thoughts could be used in fic - and, especially, how they could be used in a way which wasn't just me reeling off my notes from uni. not least because i don't know where those are.

and, obviously, how they could be tied into my actual favourite thing to write about...

harry potter and lord voldemort being forced to engage with the concept of love.

there is - of course - a very famous trope which medicalises love: hanahaki disease. and my original idea for first do no harm was to write something using this.

of real world diseases, hanahaki most closely resembles tuberculosis [a comparison which has been made in numerous fics, including a lovely bit of tomarry - consumption by @laeveteinn]. and i can understand why something tuberculosis-like grabs fic writers' imagination... after all, tb was considered incredibly glamorous in the victorian era - it makes you fashionably pale! it gives you big shiny eyes! it makes you look fragile and feminine and delicate! it makes you gives you an attractive flush on the cheekbones! it makes you cough blood delicately into a handkerchief! it consumes you from the inside out!

and it kills you.

[and it's getting harder to treat.]

and, sure, it makes a great metaphor for unrequited love. but for unrequited love which is sad, rather than terrifying and unwanted... and this fic is about love which is terrifying and unwanted.

which is where talking about the brain comes in...

when asked to name diseases which frighten them, most people would - and, indeed, should! - say rabies. and i do think there's something to be said for this humble virus - which can be transmitted by a tiny, unnoticeable bite from something as small as a bat; which has guaranteed its target is going to die in horrendous circumstances by the time they've even started to suspect that something's wrong - as a metaphor for love taking root without its host realising, and for how disorienting and overpowering love can be when it gets going.

rabies kills a bit too quickly for my purposes though...

lucky there's something just as horrifying lurking out there. a subset of neurodegenerative diseases known as transmissible spongiform encephalopathies. or prion diseases.

most people have very probably heard of at least one prion disease: bovine spongiform encephalopathy [mad cow disease - i.e. reveal you're a european millennial without saying you're a european millenial]; creutzfeld-jacob disease; kuru [famously transmitted via cannibalism]; and the one which has made me feel vaguely terrified since i first discovered it existed...

fatal familial insomnia. in which the prion-induced degeneration of the brain causes holes to appear in the thalamus - the area of the brain which regulates sleep - until it resembles a sponge.

and the patient can literally never sleep again.

for the rest of their life - usually within eighteen months of the disease's onset - they are held in hypnagogia [pre-sleep limbo, the state between wakefulness and sleeping]. they are disoriented, panicking, hallucinating, forgetful, losing control over their body, losing control over their entire sense of self...

[the face of prion diseases is the astonishing scientist sonia vallabh, who is trying to make as much progress towards a cure for fatal insomnia as she can before it kills her.]

you wouldn't wish it on your worst enemy.

well, maybe you would. if you didn't know that a bit of your worst enemy's soul lived inside your greatest weapon, or that your greatest weapon's blood kept your worst enemy's heart beating, or that they are most vulnerable to each other as their connected minds linger on the threshold of dreaming and waking...

how lucky that - unlike muggles, who just have to die from neurodegenerative diseases - this curse could be lifted from dear old harry and poor old snake-face voldemort if they put in a bit of effort and fall in love with each other...

ah.

shit.

[the title - first do no harm - is a bioethical phrase which is often misattributed as being part of the hippocratic oath. it is also just a generally sound philosophy to have in life. eh, albus?]

[cogbreath]

there are definitely instances of cannibalism having been like, a pretty bad thing ethically, like uhh jeffrey dahmer, or like, when white ppl were obsessed with eating the bodies of enslaved ppl and like mummies, but thats abt all i can think of off the top of my head. meanwhile i know on a personal level far too many instances of incestous abuse. ans then on the flipside there are instances of cannibalism that r unfairly judged i feel like imho armin miewes shouldnt be in jail for life bc that was all consensual , and also its been a harmless* cultural practice , or even instances where someone had to do it to survive but was still judged for that

(*aside from thr risk of prion diseases in the situations where brain tissue gets eaten)

[fairlyxlocal]

long genesis headcanon post -- in the form of discord messages, so these are basically notes.

there's talk about prion disease!

also an immune system disorder. this is a bit more vague and was speculation based on how i think his body would respond to the jenova cells making his body deteriorate. lots of speculation! and just... how things at least have gone on my blog. i know i could include a lot more, and this does fall into an interest of mine so i'm sure there'll be more.

i do not think his friends would have the slightest fucking clue as to what's going on and were likely lied to. like. no they're not gonna know that his has a brain disease, that his body is falling apart & attacking itself. and they're not going to be told that. they were DEFINITELY not told about how genesis was nudged into finding answers for himself. angeal probably lives with a sense of guilt bc he did hurt genesis, and it was pretty bad (which allegedly triggered the body falling apart thing, but shhhh ive changed so much anyway shhh) its a fucking mess. as far as ange and seph are told, gen just…. went off the deep end. left them. abandoned them.

gen's not in a mental state to tell anyone what's going on. it's all happening so fast, the mako and the jenova cells are fighting to keep him functional + somewhat alive but its a fucking disaster. i think like. it progresses prett rapidly (for how they typically would), even with mako and jenova cells in mind. then the fact that he's getting roughed up REAL fucking good like. doesn't help. his body cant really fight off infection/patch up injuries. like. hoo. so ofc he dies.

so genesis dies as a traitor. the villian. someone who abandoned his friends with no reason. who did these awful things for no reason whatsoever.

and when he comes back… he can't talk about it. how do you even begin to talk about that shit show. why talk about it? it changes nothing. he still did those things. he can't even tell them about the flesh eating demon thing, so why would he tell them about the fact that he was dying and his body was doing things that couldn't be stopped? nothing would be changed.

his brain deteriorating is the result of a prion disease. CJD specifically. it genuinely just. happened. very unexpected given his age, and the news was not broken to him gently. it's hard to handle being told you only have a year left to live. being treated like a failure. mocked (maybe not actually mocked jut that's how it feels). Genesis lucks out in anyway. he dies in a few months (three?). i don't have a full timeline established and I'm side eyeing how fast stuff happens in games. I'll get there. his body is also. deteriorating but that is for sure because of the jenova cells. HOWEVER I'm thinking it's a bit of like. his body is attacking itself and the jenova cells. that would've been enough to kill him.

[11:23 PM]so. genesis was always going to die.

[11:23 PM]his immune system becomes virtually nonexistent, blah blah blah

[athetos]

I read some theories about the epilogue in Tyrant Baru Cormorant, on Reddit, and I definitely think that besides the ritual sacrifice looking like magic, it’s clearly science, or at least science that follows the rules of this universe. I’m nowhere near smart enough about geology or whatever field studies fucking lightning to explain it in my own words, so I’ll stick to the field I do know, neuroscience, to explain the brain-eating bit.

Long story short: brain parasites. My first thought was “oh man, they’re gonna give themselves prion disease.” For those who don’t know, prion diseases are fatal, incurable brain diseases caused by eating prions, which are misfolded proteins, which… you don’t need to know all that, actually. Most prion diseases are passed by coming into contact with infected meat (you’ve probably heard of mad cow disease), but the one I was thinking of in particular was Kuru, a disease found in the Fore people, on Papua New Guinea. They practiced ritualistic cannibalism - they would eat the bodies of their dead, including the brain, so once one person was infected, it would keep traveling to the people who ate them, and those who ate them, etc. The epilogue immediately made me remember that, and that it could explain the neurological symptoms of the supposed infected (difficulty moving, full body tremors) but it didn’t really explain everything.

That's why a brain parasite makes more sense, as it could also cause those symptoms, and in a way even enforce the ritualistic cannibalism as a way to spread it further. I’m not suggesting that the brain parasite is actually, consciously influencing their thoughts, saying outright "okay go here. do this. okay now let yourself get hit by lightning." That's not very realistic. But there have been studies that show that some brain parasites can, subtly or not, influence our behaviors. Some trends suggest that upwards of half the global population may be infected with toxplasma gondii, and that there seem to be statistically significant differences in personality traits between those who are infected, and those who aren't. Honestly, it's not too much of a stretch to conceive of a parasite that causes neurological symptoms in its hosts, and that a culture may arise around worshiping the phenomenon. They might not know it's a brain parasite, or even a disease at all, but they can easily observe its effects.

On one final note, no, I don't think they're actually going to harm Falcrest. Falcrest just hates any ways of life that they don't understand, and they view them as threats. I can't wait to learn more about them, and I really hope that Svirakir and Lindon are able to return to the east, and get answers they want...

[sarkos]

A leading federal scientist in Canada has alleged he was barred from investigating a mystery brain illness in the province of New Brunswick and said he fears more than 200 people affected by the condition are experiencing unexplained neurological decline. The allegations, made in leaked emails to a colleague seen by the Guardian, have emerged two years after the eastern province closed its investigation into a possible “cluster” of cases. Mysterious neurological illness haunts Canadian Atlantic region Read more “All I will say is that my scientific opinion is that there is something real going on in [New Brunswick] that absolutely cannot be explained by the bias or personal agenda of an individual neurologist,” wrote Michael Coulthart, a prominent microbiologist. “A few cases might be best explained by the latter, but there are just too many (now over 200).” New Brunswick health officials warned in 2021 that more than 40 residents were suffering from a possible unknown neurological syndrome, with symptoms similar to those of the degenerative brain disorder Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease. Those symptoms were varied and dramatic: some patients started drooling and others felt as though bugs were crawling on their skin. A year later, however, an independent oversight committee created by the province determined that the group of patients had most likely been misdiagnosed and were suffering from known illnesses such as cancer and dementia. The committee and the New Brunswick government also cast doubt on the work of neurologist Alier Marrero, who was initially referred dozens of cases by baffled doctors in the region, and subsequently identified more cases. The doctor has since become a fierce advocate for patients he feels have been neglected by the province. [...]Coulthart, a veteran scientist who currently heads Canada’s Creutzfeldt-Jakob Disease Surveillance System, did not respond to a request for comment by the Guardian. But in the leaked email, he wrote that he believes an “environmental exposure – or a combination of exposures – is triggering and/or accelerating a variety of neurodegenerative syndromes” with people seemingly susceptible to different protein-misfolding ailments, including Alzheimer’s disease and Parkinson’s disease. Coulthart argues this phenomenon does not easily fit within “shallow paradigms” of diagnostic pathology and the complexity of the issue has given politicians a “loophole” to conclude “nothing coherent” is going on. “I believe the truth will assert itself in time, but for now all we can do … is continue to collect information on the cases that come to us as suspect prion disease,” Coulthart wrote.

Top Canadian scientist alleges in leaked emails he was barred from studying mystery brain illness | Canada | The Guardian

[sweetie-peaches]

(I know this says “you will not get sick from eating the meat” and is a hypothetical situation and question. but I need to be a nerd for a sec, sorryy)

Okay okay, putting in my “I’m going to med school” glasses for a second here to talk about the actual consequences in a non hypothetical situation of cannibalism!!!

While eating the cooked meat meat of a human is safe, just the same as eating cooked meat from any other animal. The brain is a very very different.

When eating a human brain there is a possibility of transmission of a disease called Kuru, this is a rare degenerative brain disorder, or a piron disease. Another well known condition is Bovine Spongiform encephalopathy or more commonly known as mad cow disease.

See, prion protein, or PrP occurs naturally in the brain. Scientists don’t actually know why it occurs, theorizing it has something to do with various illnesses including Alzheimer’s.

The Fore people, who live in the Okapa District of the eastern highlands province, Papuan New Guinea. Are the only population who have experienced a full epidemic of Kuru. That peaked in the 1950s and was the leading cause of death in females in the Fore and their neighbors.

Bodies in the Fore people were eaten out of love after they passed as a funeral rite, a full explanation would be extremely long, so I recommend doing some research and looking into it because it is very interesting

The Fore believed that bodies should be eaten by those who loved and cared for them then say worms or maggots. By doing this they were able to show their love and grief for the deceased.

Typically, the females and children would eat the flesh of the deceased. Because Fore men believed that consuming the flesh would weaken them when it came time for battles. Where the Kuru disease was transmitted

The word itself “Kuru” comes from the Fore language, meaning “to shake”. Kuru is also known as the “laughing sickness” because of the pathological bursts of laughter the sick would display.

At its peak, 2% of the deaths of the village were due to Kuru. Some villages even became completely devoid of women.

Symptoms wise Kuru is asymptomatic for 5 to 20 years after being transmitted the disease.

Once symptoms do appear, they split into three phases

Ambulant stage

• headaches

• joint pain

• shaking

• loss of balance

• deterioration of speech

• decreased muscle control

Sedentary stage

• the inability to walk without support

• loss of muscle coordination

• severe tremors

• emotional instability, including depression with outbursts of uncontrollable hysteric laughter

Terminal stage

• being unable to sit without being supported

• having virtually no muscle coordination

• inability to speak

• incontience

• difficulty swallowing

• unresponsiveness

• ulcerations with pus and necrosis

What gets me personally is that you have no clue your infected to five to twenty years, you don’t know your fate is already sealed until you start to show symptoms because oh yeah there is no cure, once the symptoms show it’s already too late.

Most people die within two months to two years after the terminal stage begins, however, not due to Kuru but instead pneumonia or infected pressure sores.

the practice of cannibalism in the Fore has been significantly reduced. Infact, the last person infected with Kuru passed away in 2005.

While it’s likely never to be a major health issue again, the outbreak proved extremely useful to many medical researchers. The relative recent concerns over Mad cow disease and Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease(another fatal brain disease that can develop from eating a bovine that has BSE) has sparked more interest and studies into Kuru!

By understanding how this disease works, researchers might be able to design treatments to prevent or at least reduce the chances of future prion diseases

Anyway to answer the question, I’d only eat the person if they didn’t know me. But also like, human meat seems squishy so idk.

*person has consented to being eaten; they’ve donated their body. they died without suffering. you can cook the meat. you will not get sick from the meat.

bonus: explain why!

[thethousandyearwitch]

It's a short Pier- It's a long walk home.

!!Prion Disease Pariston !!

“Familial Insomnia. All of your symptoms -the weight loss, the mood changes, the double visions- the insomnia. It all comes back to that.” “F-F-I. You’re missing an F in the acronym.” Ging spoke up. His throat felt dry. “Ah, I-” “I can take a guess.” Pariston smiled. It wasn’t taunting or snide or teasing. It looked empty. “Fatal.” ------

Pariston gets diagnosed with Fatal Familial Insomnia, and will have to cope with what that means for his life and relationships. Or will he?

AO3 Link

The human brain is a complex organ. Despite humanity's best efforts, its full capabilities and mechanisms are still mostly a mystery. A part of the brain's blood supply can be cut off for a time and the person could still make a full recovery. Someone could walk around one minute perfectly fine, then collapse dead on the ground in the next due to a burst blood vessel. 

Modern Medicine and Nen based medical practices have made great advances in the past years. 

But due to the complexity of the bodily control system, there are some things that cannot be fixed, cannot be cured. Symptoms and stresses of a disease can be relieved, quality of life can be accommodated as much as possible, but palliative care is the only long-term treatment. 

A comfortable way to die. 

A wide variety of neurological symptoms and the way they can present in different patients makes a firm diagnosis something difficult, misdiagnoses can happen due to the smallest mistakes. 

“Did you two get into a fight- Like an actual one this time? → Pariston” 

Cheadle mustered him from across the table with a furrowed brow. She has long stopped trying to supress the subconscious need to always address someone by their name while speaking. Some Neurological specialties don’t need necessarily need fixing. 

“What makes you think so?” 

She expects a quip, a tease, a false grin with distractingly white teeth. Pariston Hill may be the most unpleasant and uncomfortable person Cheadle had ever had the displeasure of working with, but there was a sort of comfort in their antagonistic play and routine they had found in each other. 

Until recently. 

“You have been quieter, which in usual circumstances I’d be grateful for, however; It’s becoming eerie. You also just look pathetic. → Pariston” 

A single raised eyebrow in response. 

“You’re pale and look like you’re sinking into yourself. If it’s the flu, I’d appreciate it if you’d stay home and not infect the entire office. → Pariston”  

He did look paler than usual, his eyes were reddened and lined with gray circles, sunken in. 

“How sweet of you to care, dearest Cheadle. I have just been losing some precious sleep. Must be all of my busy, important responsibilities keeping me up.” He forced a tired smile, though it lacked bite or any of the usual grandiose. 

Apathy. Loss of sleep. Possible weight loss. A bell goes off in her head, but it’s impolite to try and diagnose colleagues. 

—

It took another two weeks until Pariston sought out help by himself. 

The Zodiac meeting had been numbingly boring, and he did not have the energy to spice it up, too many lucid dreams had been preventing him from getting well rested. All he wanted was for the day to end, to go home and fall into a soft bed with expensive linen.

He had poured himself cup after cup of coffee until then. But when he tried to grasp the cup, keep his caffeine levels up-

crash-

All heads turned towards him, hand still mid air where he thought he was taking the cup, but instead had just shoved it off the counter. 

“Whoops~! Well, what do we have a faithful clean-up crew for, am I right?” He beamed a smile at everyone and returned to his seat. 

“What a waste of good coffee.” Ging mumbled and leered at Pariston. What’s going on? He could practically read the question in his eyes. 

“If you think that’s good coffee, I feel sorry for your taste buds.” Another light laugh. He’d refuse to even look in Ging’s direction for the rest of the meeting. Instead, “Oh, Dear Cheadle, I have a matter of utmost importance to discuss with you after this, I’m sure you don’t mind me borrowing some of your precious time.” 

“...Of course. → Pariston”

–

“Double Vision? → Pariston”

“Well, mostly on my left side. And not all the time. But you can see how it can make events like today a little…” He waved a hand around as if grasping for words, “...embarrassing.” Pariston had sat down on the large desk in his office, legs crossed, as if the height advantage would make the conversation any less uncomfortable. 

“If you fix this for me, I am certain we can find a way to compensate you that will also keep this behind closed doors. Didn’t you mention some much needed vacation time? It may just be, that I know a guy who’s in chaaarge~.” 

“You don’t have to bribe me into doing my doctorly duty. It’s frowned upon. If you could just come with me into the clinic, I could-”

“No clinic, no no no.” He waved a chastising finger in front of her nose. “What are the people supposed to think if they see me walk in there?”

“...That you’re sick? →Pariston”

“I don’t get sick, Cheadle. I’m the epitome of health, something that should be admired and not questioned.” Or exploited for pity if absolutely necessary, but he didn’t have to tell her that.

Cheadle gave an exhausted sigh, fingers on her temple. “Alright, fine. At least let me get a history, and we’ll see what I can do with it. →Pariston”

He gave a confident nod, though with his sunken eyes, it lacked the usual charm. Cheadle concentrated on a medical routine to suppress her need to repeat his name.

“How long have you had double vision?”

“About 3 weeks.”

“Any other strange symptoms that have recently appeared?”

“Oh, nothing wild. I’ve been sleeping a little worse than usual. That may have made me a bit more…jumpy?”

“Significant Weight Loss?”

“My, I didn’t think anyone would notice~” He smiled as if it were a casual compliment.

“How much, approximately?”

“Maybe around 10kg in the last half year. I’ve changed personal chefs, and the new one just hasn’t figured out how to cook with high end ingredients.”

Cheadle rolled her eyes, while mentally she noted everything she had just been told. 

Weight Loss at around 10kg in 6 months. Double vision. Anxiety. Insomnia. 

“Any family history of neurological diseases?” 

A half-hearted shrug. “Your guess is as good as mine.” 

“I’d like to take a couple blood tests-” He opened his mouth to interject, but Cheadle continued sternly “I’ll have them filed as routine blood work to not raise any eyebrows. I can take the samples here. →Pariston”

“See, I knew you’d be able to make such easy little adjustments.” 

She rolled her eyes at him, though there was an underlying tension, a tension that made her fear for the worst. The samples for CBC, ESR, and serum collection went out that day as an emergency.

—

"Good News, you don't seem to have an infection or failing liver; Bad News, I'm forcing you to the clinic for an MRI. → Pariston"

Cheadle had read over the lab results a couple of times with a brow that furrowed deeper and deeper each time before she returned to Paristons office.

"Ah, sure." 

"You need to- Huh? → Pariston"

Pariston was sitting at his desk, pushing the same files as this morning back and forth in front of him. He nodded with a relaxed smile at her news.

"You agree to the procedure? I have a consent form that you'll have to sign-" That I was going to fake in case you were noncompliant, she did not say, for medical integrity.

"Mh, sure, let's do it." Paristons eyes seemed to be fixed at a point way in the distance, way beyond Cheadle. 

Weight Loss at around 10kg in 6 months. Double vision. Anxiety. Insomnia. Apathy. Possible changes in personality.

She let him sign the papers, offered to go through the risks and uses of the procedure with him, but his attention obviously didn't lie with her.

On their way down to the clinic, a relatively small one underground of the hunter association, Cheadle had sent a message to her staff to chase them out. VIP treatment, no witnesses.

Pariston would complain dramatically about the noise level of the MRI machine, with the same dramatics as she had gotten used to over the years, which at least granted her some relief; The Symptoms weren’t constant and didn’t seem to worsen immediately. 

“Please stay still for a little while, I’m going to grab vials for some more sampling. →Pariston” Cheadle announced over the intercom in the imaging room. 

However, when she exited to make her way to the pharmacy supply room, she encountered an intruder of the worst kind.

“What are you doing here? →Ging”

The man had been leaning against a wall casually, but the twitch of his eyes betrayed his calm. 

“I was looking for Paris and the mistress he must have, since he’s blowing off our meeting. Didn’t think we’d share similar bad tastes.”

“Very funny; Pariston is not here; And I will have to ask you to leave my clinic unless you’re here for an emergency. →Ging”

Ging pushed himself away from the wall to fully face the young woman, his stance relaxed but eyes tensing.

“I am always funny; Yes he is; My emergency is that I’d like to know where he is because otherwise he might be up to something suspicious.”

“It’s Pariston, when is he not up to something suspicious? →Ging”

Ging hesitated. It was time for Cheadles eyes to narrow and tense. “...What is going on? →Ging”

“He has just been acting a bit strange- Different strange, a kind of strange that he is trying to pretend is not happening.” He cracked his fingers, twisted his hands as if trying to endure some sharp pains. “Why is he down here?”

“With all due respect-” She sighed, “I legally can’t tell you anything. →Ging”

“Legally I am his closest living relative.” He brushed his thumb against the finger where a ring could have been, maybe be, in a relationship that could be more closely defined. 

“That only becomes relevant in case he can’t speak for himself. Until then-” She grabbed the necessary tools to take more blood and spit samples, “You leave my clinic, or else I’ll give you a real emergency to be here. →Ging”

—

The MRI came back negative for any abnormalities, unknown masses in the brain, aneurysms, signs of a stroke- 

The list of possible diagnoses started to shorten drastically. Cheadle had considered doing a brain biopsy, though with no apparent abnormal tissue, it would be a needle in a haystack to find anything conclusive. 

There was one thing they haven’t tested for yet. Something Cheadle dreaded, but that slowly became unavoidable. 

“I’d like to take another blood and spit sample, for some genetic testing. → Pariston” 

He looked up from his work- the same contract he had been working on for a week now. Pariston had his suits refitted, make-up applied, just so he would at least look healthier than he felt. No one would know he hasn’t been able to sleep for about 3 weeks now. 

“Genetic testing? Don’t tell me the extensive family history I gave wasn’t enough, I’m shocked.” The extensive family history consisted of another half-hearted shrug and pointing out famous actors who may or may not be distant relatives. 

“Just give me your arm. →Pariston”

She prepared a couple of blood test tubes and searched along his arm for an acceptable vein. “Do you feel any change from the meds I’ve given you? →Pariston”

“Sleep continues to be an elusive mistress, if you mean that. Ging says I’ve been moody, I think he’s mad that I washed his whites with my pinks. Ow-”

“All done, all done. I’ll take a swab of the inside of your mouth, do not bite it. àPariston”

He probably would have made a crude joke (if he were still himself, she tried not to think), if Cheadle didn’t immediately proceed to jam the cotton swab into his mouth. 

Her hands were shaking as much as his. 

—

Cheadle called him in for more swabs.

Cheadle called the lab for more re-dos. 

The lab called with the same result each time. 

—

Ging had watched for the past weeks how Pariston warped into a muted version of himself. 

He noticed the weight loss with every touch to the waist, how his clothes started to swallow him up, how the tailor costs increased over the months. 

He noticed how, at first, Pariston would start to sleep over the day, take naps, disguise them as chances to keep Ging with him. 

And then how he’d toss and turn at night, unable to get rest, breathing only slowing after hours of repeated sleep rituals. 

At some point, his breathing never slowed. Ging knew that Pariston was just lying there, motionless, feigning sleep. 

If Pariston hadn’t sought out Cheadle himself, Ging wondered how much longer he would have put up with his charade until he’d dragged him to the clinic himself.

It’s probably some Nen curse, he thought at one point, fuck around and find out. 

A Nen curse would have been a relatively easy fix, provided the right contacts (which Ging had, even if it required pulling some bigger favours). 

But more time passed. Pariston kept sneaking to the clinic- he wasn’t fooling anyone; he must have been aware of that.

The blond eventually started looking for excuses not to sleep together anymore. ”Oh, you snore too loud.” “Oh, you keep kicking me in your sleep.” “Oh, I have to stay at the office and work.” 

Though some of the reasons may have had some truth to them, he had been able to deal with it before as well. 

Pariston used to be an excellent liar- or just uncomfortably truthful- but he started to falter in both areas. 

Then Ging was called into the clinic as well.

Pariston had already been sitting in the blindingly sterile clinic office, legs crossed, hair perfect, eyes sunken. 

“Ah, thank you for coming, please take a seat. →Ging”

Cheadle was sitting at a desk that seemed just a bit too big for her. If she hadn’t been looking like she saw a ghost, he may have said something about it. 

“Cheadle, what is he doing here? Do I need to remind you of a certain law-”

“-I have chosen to contact your next of kin in a dire situation, which, as a doctor, is both lawful and my duty. →Pariston” 

Pariston glanced over to the other man. “I thought that only applied to relations by blood.” 

“Marriage, no matter how loose the definition for some, is a powerful term. →Both of you”

Ging flinched, disliking being dragged into the chastising. 

“...You mentioned a dire situation.” The blond tilted his head to the side. 

The young doctor shifted in her seat. 

“The genetic tests confirmed my suspicions. I am not going to dumb it down for you, I do respect you both enough for that. You’ve tested positive for a mutation of the PRNP gene, which is responsible for the creation of the prion protein ‘PrPC’. This has caused you to develop FFI.” She took a breath, obviously forcing herself into a form of cold professionalism. Ging subconsciously dug his nails into the chair.

Why am I here?  He knew the answer.

“Familial Insomnia. All of your symptoms -the weight loss, the mood changes, the double visions- the insomnia. It all comes back to that.”

“F-F-I. You’re missing an F in the acronym.” Ging spoke up. His throat felt dry.

“Ah, I-”

“I can take a guess.” 

Pariston smiled. It wasn’t taunting or snide or teasing. It looked empty.

“Fatal.”

–

Cheadle explained the four stages of the disease, how Pariston was somewhere between the first and second.

She explained how the symptoms would worsen over time. 

She explained a lot of things about treating symptoms. ‘Palliative Care’. 

Pariston watched Ging the whole time; the way his eyes were fixed on the woman in front of them, the way his facial muscles tensed as the time passed, the way his hands tried to busy themselves. 

This was, in a way, a win. 

Not that there was a consistent way to win their game. But there have always been partial wins. When Ging got Pariston to admit that he missed him because he had been on a 13 month expedition, that had been a win. When they both stopped tapping out and actually got engaged, that had been a win. 

This, fatally binding and attention grabbing as it was, was a win. Pariston felt like he had set up a perfect chessboard, and was ready to get up and let his opponent eternally ponder his moves.

But somehow it didn’t make him feel like a winner. 

The inevitable death. 

“How much time will I have?” 

He had interrupted Cheadle in an explanation of the genetic aspects of the disease -not like it matters- and she seemed to startle. 

“...It’s difficult to say. It can be as much as 2 years, as little as a couple of months. →Pariston” 

“How much time of functioning normally will I have?”

“The last stage can last about 6 months, possibly longer, it entails a rapid cognitive decline, dementia-like symptoms; It’s impossible to say how long it’ll take for you to get there though. →Pariston”

He leaned back into this chair; the smile wouldn’t leave his lips. 

–

“I won’t treat you differently because of this.” Ging and Pariston sat in latter’s apartment, which always seemed too empty and big, but now it felt borderline claustrophobic. 

“I would have held it against you if you did.” He warmed his hands on a fresh cup of coffee. Lack of sleep gave him hypotonia, which in turn stunted his circulation. 

“It’s just like you to get a super special rare disease, isn’t it? A regular cold just wasn’t enough.”

“Ambition, Drive, and being unique by birth. Seethe in your jealousy.” 

Ging chuckled, but the blond could hear the strain at the back of his throat. 

“...I’ll keep sleeping here; If I don’t keep tabs on you, you’re just going to start planning an extravagant funeral.” He reached out for Paristons hands and took it in his own. The heat from his skin soothed far better than the coffee cup. 

“How dare you foil my plan~”

–

Cheadle started to come by for weekly visits. ‘Neurological check-ups’ , she called them, feigning that strong professionalism once again.

“Any trouble with your vision?”

“No.”

“Any further weight loss?”

“Not since you’ve prescribed me these shakes that taste like dissolving flesh.”

“Problems walking?”

“No.”

“...Ging mentioned you wobble occasionally. àPariston”

“There’s a reason he’s not invited to these visits.” Pariston crossed his arms. 

“Any sensory hallucinations, this includes olfactory, visual, auditory-”

“I guess sometimes the insects I’ve been trying to swat haven’t been exactly corporeal. “

“When was the last time you have fallen asleep for any amount of time?”

“About 4 weeks.” He fondly remembers the last time he passed out on the couch, piano music lulling him to sleep.

Cheadle scribbled a few notes into a small notebook. 

“I am going to ask you some questions to assess your memory. First, what’s your name?”

“Pariston Hill. If you don’t suppress your speech quirk, that answer will become much easier.”

“What is my name?”

“Cheadle Yorkshire.”

“Good. Do you know where we currently are?”

“My living room, in my apartment in Swardani city, about 2 miles from my office.”

“What day is it?”

“May the 5th.”

“What’s the name of your partner?”

“Is that what you’re calling him now? Not the dreaded h-word?” Pariston smirked.

“Only if you call him that first. The name, please. →Pariston” She furrowed her brow when his interruption made her lose focus once again.

“Ging Freecss.” 

“Thank you. That should be all for now.” She pocketed her notebook and straightened up. “Please don’t hesitate to contact me if anything happens, as your primary care provider, I do unfortunately feel responsible for you now. →Pariston”

Pariston crossed his legs leisurely. “Who would have thought that all it needed for us to become closer was a deadly disease?” 

He did not get a laugh from her, but he still felt very satisfied with himself. 

“Where’s Ging, by the way? I’d like to discuss a few things with him as well.”

“He’s visiting his son, I was trying to be a good influence and forced him to go. Birthdays are supposedly very important for children, aren’t they?” He stood up to step closer to her. “But there’s nothing you need to discuss with him anyway. Everything important can go through me.” 

“...There are things that are best discussed with the family of the afflicted. There is going to be a time when you won’t be able to make bigger decisions anymore, I just want to prep him-”

The man put a hand on her shoulder and came dangerously close to her. “Everything important will go through me, as long as I am still capable of making these decisions.” 

A heavy silence fell between them. 

–

Ging had been right when he said Pariston was wobbling while walking. He’s observant like that. 

After a couple more weeks, it didn’t take his knowledge of Pariston to see his difficulty walking anymore. Even just standing had become a strenuous task, so every chance he got, he’d sit down as if he owned the place. He also chose to use this to inconvenience Ging as much as possible.

“Be a dear and fetch me my maroon tie- No, that’s ruby red. It’s the one right next to the wine red one.”

“These are all equally red and equally hideous.”

With a sigh he stood up and slowly walked towards the other man. Ging wrapped a steady arm around his waist as support and watched as Pariston picked out the right tie. It’s the same red as all the other ones.

“If you can’t differentiate maroon from ruby, I am going to be very concerned about coordinated black and grays at my funeral.” 

Gings fingers involuntarily twitched at the mention of a funeral. No, not any funeral. Paristons funeral. The inevitable funeral. The one that is coming sooner than either of them anticipated. He tugged the other man a bit closer to him, nuzzling into the crook of his neck for just a second. 

“You won’t be there to cringe at it anyway.” 

“Ging Freecss, if I see you wearing two different shades of black at my funeral, I will crawl out of my coffin and throw you into my grave instead.” 

I wish you would, is what he didn’t say.

–

They spent the week at a small beach home, far from anyone who could look at Pariston with pity in their eyes. Instead, he got to sit in the sun, limbs not feeling cold or stiff for once; The only person watching him was Ging, and though he was more emotive than ever, he never looked at him with pity. 

Instead, he’d look with mild annoyance. 

Orschadenfreude.

Or amusement.

Click. Or confusion. “Are you taking pictures of me again?”

“Collecting evidence for when you inevitably burn down the house with your ‘fire pit’.” 

Ging chucked another piece of driftwood onto the growing pile. “I’ve done this countless times, and I’ve never been convicted of arson.”

“Yet.”

“Yet.” He grinned. Click. Pariston had tried to capture every single look from Ging. He needed to capture them, keep them, and remind himself of them. His very own little album of Ging faces and the situations in which they occur.

The house did in fact, not burn down, and as the sun set, the warmth of the fire settled comfortably into Paristons bones. A bottle of wine was poured between them, until he could feel himself relax fully into his seat, eyes turned up towards the night sky. If he squinted, he could see Gings eyes reflected even in the stars. 

After a long, comfortable silence, Ging spoke up again. “I bought something; I think it’s stupid, but I bought them anyway.” 

“What’s that?~”

“Don’t- Just don’t say anything, just take it, okay?” He pulled out a small, dusty box out of his pocket, took something small out of it, and handed it to the other man with a closed fist.

A thin, gold ring, reflecting the flames. 

Not a gold ring. His gold ring. Part of a matching pair they had picked out, and then never wore for various reasons. They never fit into their description of their relationship.

He slid the ring onto his ring finger (it’s loose but still feels like it’s perfect for him). “So you are becoming sentimental after all.”

“If you don’t want it, I can just pawn it.” 

“...I did not say that.”

They fell back into silence, eyes focused on the twisting flames, hands sometimes interlocking just because they can.

At night, Pariston would look at his partner's sleeping face and think to himself that he looks so much younger than they both are, in that moment. Young, still ready to explore the entire world and whatever lies beyond it. Learn secrets kept for centuries, meet all different kinds of people. Ging could do all of that, freed from any responsibilities.

But not if he’d feel responsible for a dying man.  

It’s been 12 weeks since he had last gotten any sleep himself. 

–

Cheadle stretched in her seat. It was time for another neuro check up, so Pariston watched as she unpacked and organized all her relevant notes. 

A polite cough. “Shall we begin?”

“Ready when you are.”

“What’s your name?”

“Pariston Hill.”

“What’s my name?”

“Cheadle Yorkshire.”

“Where are we, currently?”

“In your clinic located in the hunter association building.”

“What day is it?”

“June 30th”

“What’s the name of your partner?”

“Uh-” He stopped.

It was just a second. 

Maybe even shorter. 

But for this short, painful moment, he could see the man's face clearly in front of him; But he couldn’t place a name.

“Ging! Ging Freecss!” He leapt forward in his chair, as if desperately trying to convince the woman. 

“Good- It’s, good. I know it’s hard to concentrate this early. →Pariston” Cheadle had startled back but tried to force herself back into a professional mindset. “That should be enough for today, you did well. I’ll see you this time next week, don’t forget to pick up your next prescription.” She looked at him with that pity look he wanted to scratch out of everyone’s faces. He didn’t want to be pitied. Not for this. Not like this.

Pariston got up, though he hesitated. “I…will, thank you.”

-

He forgot Ging’s name. 

Pariston had tried to pace in his apartment, but the stress worsened his ataxia. Now he had just been sitting on his bed that smelled like Ging.

Ging. Whose name he had forgotten for a second. Despite all the picture taking and name reminders and constant interactions. 

Ging. Who was undoubtedly the most impactful person in his life. 

He would have rather forgotten Cheadles name. Or his own. Or the date or the place at which they were. All of these were unimportant. 

Not Ging. 

This was the beginning of the end. This was his brain telling him that it was going to rid itself of everything that mattered until he’d become a mindless zombie. Every single neuron was going to slowly die now, forget names and dates and places and how to move his limbs or blink. Until there was nothing left but a glorified corpse. Someone unable to sleep, yet forced to lie in bed and stare at the ceiling because there would be nothing else left to do.

But it wasn’t the end yet. 

As long as he could still control his mind and body like this, he could choose his own ending. 

–

Ging had to file the official missing person report. Formalities. 

They had been looking for days already. He had come home to an empty apartment, confirmed with Cheadle that Pariston had shown up to his appointment and left, and immediately went to find him.

Soon after he’d pull any and every favour from his contacts to form a search party. 

He didn’t leave a note. No hints. No clues.

Cheadle had mentioned something about him having learned from the best on how to disappear. But they both knew that he wasn’t going to show up to a random zodiac meeting again as if nothing happened. 

Pariston disappeared so there wouldn’t be a funeral.

Pariston disappeared so there wouldn’t be a body to bury.

Pariston disappeared so there wouldn’t be someone to treat until they became a body.

This way his palliative care, end of life treatment. 

It made perfect sense for who he was. But Ging couldn’t help but spend hours in that empty apartment. 

Tracing a finger over that golden ring.

[shitty-fallout-art]

I have been thinking incessantly about horrorout its infected my brain like a flesh eating bacteria so I come baring thoughts

You mentioned in Preston's profile he has kuru, as do alot of folk in the au, but when I went to actually look into kuru bc I'd never heard of it before, it said that it's a disease you get from specifically eating the brain and that on average afflicted only live up to a year or so after infection. After so many years of doing the cannibalism thing wouldn't SOMEONE read something or make the connection and eating the brain would become a taboo done by only the most desperate? I know everyone's ravenous and feral but the whole reason they're eating folk is to survive, why cut your life short in the process ya know?

Along with that, preserving food. A human body is alot of meat but when meat goes bad quick which probably only exacerbates the problem. Drying it out to make jerky, pickling it, salting it a bunch and wrapping it in paper even- again I know everyone is starving and probably just shoving everything they get their hands on in their mouths but when your starving your body cant take alot of food suddenly and in general you won't able to eat a whole dude in one go, making a few meals and preserving the rest for later would probably keep you semi stably fed if your smart about it and go hunting regularly. Still starving but eating once a day.

My point is it's been like 8+ years get your shit together Commonwealth theres gotta be someone who figured this shit out and is doing decent.

The thing about kuru is that it’s a prion disease and prions aren’t very well known or understood, and yeah it does come from eating brains specifically but eating meat that’s been tainted with prion disease can also cause it. It is also a recent development in prestons case, he hasn’t had it for very long, to be honest he’s only been eating flesh for maybe two to three years (I gotta draw out a timeline but I’m chipping away at it in the story, mass consumption of human flesh hasn’t been that common for that long). And yeah you don’t survive very long with it, and I’m deciding if maybe curies role in the story is prion disease related (prestons mortality is kind of a part of horrorouts story).

Also yes, a lot of meat is preserved. a single person might be just enough to feed an entire small settlement. Human hunting can be kinda hard tho, since it’s a known threat and possibility it’s harder to just run into people nowadays. Settlements are locked down and travelers are few and far between. The population has gone way down as well, plus a couple…other threats that have been prominent.

“Having your shit together” is kinda weird when you’re talking about killing and eating people

[prionguy-old]

Hello I came across one of your reblogs and yes I'd like to learn more about prion diseases

HI

yes this has been sitting in my inbox for hours we dont talk about that

okok ! so basically, prions are naturally occuring proteins in the brain (the function of these is actually unknown!). however, when they misfold, that misfolding copies to other prions, which causes prion diseases.

(heres what i mean by misfolding)

and these diseases can be found in a decent variety of animals? including sheep, goats, cows, deer, cats, camels, and of course humans.

for sheep and goats, its scrapie, which causes excessive itching and weird mouth movements, and heavy weight loss

for cows, weve got the most well known, mad cow disease. it causes aggression and bad coordination (this can spread to humans actually, causing creutzfeld jakob disease)

in deer, its chronic wasting disease ! hoo boy this was the thing talked about in kaijuno’s post, its WILD

cats and camels have specific variants of those that i dont know much about

AND IN HUMANS. prions cause 6 known diseases (cjd, kuru, fatal familial insomnia, gss, fse, VSPSr), but i only know a lot about the first three.

creutzfeld jakob disease is the most common as far as i know. it causes very rapidly progressing dementia, and VERY quick death (usually around a year for genetic cases, but can be as little as two weeks from the first symptoms for sporadic cases). 87% of cases are of unknown cause which is WILD

kuru. this disease is (as far as we know) extinct. it was very present among the fore tribe of papua new guinea in the 1900s. its likely that a member of the tribe got a form of cjd, and it mutated. the way that it spread so fast was actually because they participated in uh. funerary cannibalism. needless to say they do not do that anymore. but this disease was wild, with about a year life expectancy from the first symptoms but around a 50 YEAR long incubation period. symptoms included bad coordination, weight loss, and chillingly, random laughter.

finally, fatal familial insomnia, my personal favorite. i recommend the book “the family that couldn’t sleep” on this because its great :0. its almost exclusively genetic, and (obviously) a symptom is trouble sleeping. the patient fully loses their ability to sleep and subsequently. dies. since it is genetic, there is are families worldwide who pretty much all have a 50/50 chance of developing this disease.

the only things these all have in common is that theyre caused by malformed prion proteins, they are EXTREMELY rare, and they are always fatal. theyre also super interesting because as humans, we have always known diseases as Living Things like bacteria or viruses. however, proteins arent living. you cure viruses and such by killing the viruses, but well, how do you kill a protein?

if you wanna learn more about this, i just recommend looking up the diseases!! i also recommend these books

- madness and memory by stanley prusiner (the guy who discovered prions)

- the family that couldnt sleep by dt max

- mercies in disguise by gina kolata

[madammeouff]

I started playing a chronicle of VTM with a friend a few weeks ago and what I did was make my character a scared fledgling who has no idea what the fuck is going on. Its been working out really well and I'm falling in love with her as a character. Just the idea of this young autistic women who's actually dealing with the whole situation far better than most thanks for both circumstances and because she never really understood how to be human in the first place. Her name is Eliza and while she did start off very plain, she's become an OC I adore to bits. Really, the key is finding a Game Master who is willing to incorporate your own and by extension your characters lack of experience into the story being told. Once you do that it is SO good, I love VTM as a table top!! I so love to imagine my Fallout 4 character going to that train station and being unable to hold back the snickering as Vance does his whole Vampire cosplay. He's just doing his speech about how "humans" don't understand them, not knowing his saying all this to an ACTUAL Vampire. Also, there is a bit of nuance with the whole cannibalism thing. In real life, the main reason you should not eat other humans is because of prion disease. This is caused by misfolded proteins that if they build up too much can cause serious damage to nerve tissue and especially the brain. And cannibalism, especially eating any human meat with nerve tissue in it is the fastest way to get prion disease. This is also true for other animals and is actually what caused mad cow disease in the UK when farmers started feeding bits of dead cow to other cows to save on protein additives..... horrid stuff. AND I have heard of a really scary theory on Fallout. It explains why seemingly everything, including other humans keep trying to eat humans. Its the Stimpacks, whatever chemicals that's in them that regenerates damaged tissue. Also makes that tissue really addictive once consumed. So the humans of the Fallout universe, through their use of Stimpacks. And perhaps some humans, like Vance and the family. Have a mutation that lets their bodies take full advantage of this Stimpack infused flesh. With that mutation is also being common among the animals of the wasteland.

Hiyo! Did you want to talk about Vampires? Cause I'd love to talk about Vampires!

Sure! Who am I to pass up that offer 🖤

[eternalgirlscout]

Hi! What can you tell me about funerary cannibalism?

[ID: four more asks requesting that I talk about funerary cannibalism, from @no-one-look, @itsthenovelteafactor, @beyhobi, and one anonymous user]

Well! I’m honored to have so many people who not only read my tags but are genuinely interested in this topic that I think is cool.

I should start with an important disclaimer. I am none of the following: a historian, an anthropologist, a member of any cultures that traditionally practice funerary cannibalism (as far as I know), nor anything close to an expert on the topic. I just... think both cannibalism and funerary practices are neat, so I’m fascinated by the intersection.

[TWs: cannibalism (obvs), colonialism, racism and racist language, illness, death]

Funerary traditions wherein parts of the body of the deceased are consumed are usually referred to as endocannibalism--that is, eating someone who belongs to your own cultural or kinship group. There are a lot of different forms this can take, from straight up preparing and eating most parts of the body among a large group of people, to scorching bone marrow or bone and mixing the ash into a beverage, to any number of forms of consumption. There are as many symbolic meanings to this consumption as there are cultures that have practiced it, but broadly speaking it’s a form of veneration for the dead, or a way of keeping them alive within their loved ones.

That’s part of what I find so fascinating about funerary practices in general. The question, “what do we do with our dead?” has always been vital, both for pragmatic reasons (ie. what do we do with this corpse we have lying around, because it can’t stay here) and for personal and spiritual ones: how do we show respect for our dead? How do we signify what they meant to us in life? What meaning to we ascribe to what of them is left behind?

It’s hugely important to note that the narratives of endocannibalism that I, as a White, (mostly) monolingual, English-speaking American have access to are influenced if not outright determined by colonialism and racism. Most commonly-used examples of funerary cannibalism come from Indigenous and colonized cultural groups, and these practices are highly stigmatized in many accounts from European colonizers (including anthropologists). In fact (and warning for blatantly racist language), the English word “cannibal” itself comes from

Spanish canibal, caribal "a savage, cannibal," from Caniba, Christopher Columbus' rendition of the [Indigenous Caribbeans] name for themselves. [x]

Therefore, any discussion of anthropophagic practices must reckon with the history of violence and misrepresentation inherent in even the words we use to speak about them.

One fairly well-known example of endocannibalism existed, until the practice largely ended around the 1950′s, among the Fore people of Papua New Guinea. There’s a good chance you’ve heard about kuru, a degenerative prion disease that can be transmitted by consumption of the brain matter of an infected person. The story was sensationalized, and the popular Western imagination painted this epidemic as mysterious and horrifying: people from some far off land who eat other humans and develop a deadly, shaking, trembling condition that slowly kills the victim. Its symptoms and its association with cannibalism, an act painted as an inhuman taboo, survive in popular culture, which is rarely sympathetic to the sufferer of the disease. The image of kuru calls to mind racist caricatures of violent, “uncivilized” people (a term arguably more loaded with malice than “cannibalism”).

In our media and our common thought, to this day, we dehumanize the cannibal and make them other. We perpetuate the legacy of Columbus’ derogatory canibal.

The truth is... both less sensationally frightening and much more tragic. It’s a horrific disease that mostly killed women and children. It’s a slow and agonizing death. And it came not from ~inhuman cannibals clambering to eat the bodies of unfortunate innocents they slew in ritual murder,~ but from a tradition of community mourning. That’s it. People got sick at funerals, and the more people died, the more dead there were to take care of, in the manner dictated by a given culture. If we have learned and can internalize anything in These Unprecedented Times™, let it be that illness is not a punishment nor an indicator of wrongdoing. Sometimes it just is. It’s a thing that happens, and blaming the sick for living their lives with whatever discrepancies, however big or small, from that of the healthy person on their high horse does no one any favors.

That tangent probably wasn’t what you all came to see, but I think it was an important one. There’s nothing wrong with a fascination with the macabre. However, it can be extremely easy (and I have certainly been guilty of this myself, lo these many years since being a goth teen) to, no pun intended, consume the stories of people who live in ways unfamiliar to us out of a desire for entertainment over a desire to understand others as fellow human beings.

TL;DR: I think funerary cannibalism is interesting because I think the questions at the core of funerary practices in general are interesting and worth thinking about, as well as the many different forms and significances there are to be found in what we incorrectly call the “ultimate taboo.” Like anything else when we look from the outside into the lives of people whose issues and triumphs, beliefs and doubts, worries and cares are unfamiliar to us, we should do it with empathy and humility.

Addendum: while this post is specifically about anthropophagy in funerary practices, I would be remiss if I didn’t link this fascinating article (which includes a mention of a couple books I am meaning to read) about medical cannibalism in Europe from the early modern to Victorian era.

Extra TL;DR: Humans have always been eating each other in many different ways and for many different reasons. Pretty cool, huh?

[carnalhaus]

hiiii im gonna ramble abt my arg inspired oc, her name is basil and shes kind like the fictional combination of all the desirable traits of this girl called “prion-girl”. so like, shes basically the personification of who this girls alleged stalker wants her to be 😁😁😁😁😁😁

so, she’s essentially an internet phenomenon from the 80’s to 2000’s. “basil” started out as a neocities page which posted in a blog format. posts were written like a young girl’s diary. over time, posts became more and more incoherent and scattered. many had links, codes, cyphers, audio files, etc, that seemingly led to nonsense.

but one of the strangest things about this page was the fact it was supposedly being run by a dead girl. it was unknown if the girl actually faked her death somehow and was actually running this page or if someone is impersonating her as a sick joke. the girl’s name was never released, so she’s often referred to as “prion-girl”. the nickname came from the similarities between the girl’s symptoms and mad cow disease, a fatal brian disease caused by a prion that can be transferred to humans through infected meat. prion-girl was an average american teenager, nothing about her was particularly interesting. her death wasn’t even brought to the public until a few years after she passed, which is when the basil page started to circulate. prion-girl supposedly had a terminal illness, but there were no medical records that were able to be obtained. due to the lack of records, it was assumed that prion-girls caretakers refused to put her under a hospital’s care. 

a ragtag investigation was conducted regarding the pages posts, and it was proposed that each post was part of a storyline. apparently, the posts show vivid details about prion-girl’s daily life, her illness, her physical pain, and other specific details. however, this is where everything gets muddy. prion-girl died long before any of this information was posted, and the girl’s supposed caretakers confirmed she had no internet access, could not write, and was kept in a closely monitored room with no windows. but nearly all information posted to the basil page was correct down to the last detail. however, this is only from her guardian’s speculation, its unknown if theyre manipulating information or witholding information from the public.

theories are still circulating regarding the origins, owner, and validity of the basil page, but no formal or legal investigations have been introduced.

the complexity of some of basil’s posts and the confusion the case has dug up affected a massive group of people, and became one of the largest recorded cases of folie á deux. people have reported having physical, visual, and auditory hallucinations of the girl, and some reported major delusions. most delusions regarded the person thinking they were prion-girl, they felt phantom pain in their brain, they felt they were being stalked and watched through the vents of their home, and many others.

anywayz this is just a rough basic idea