#mur being Totally Normal about states

[mur-art]

All of the Nevada themed things I bought at the Nevada Day parade.

I’m not obsessed with this state. Nope not me.

[96percentdone]

The Moonlit Prince and the Lying Thief (Part 4)

@oumasaiweek I’m a day late I’m so sorry! I couldn’t finish this chapter on time yesterday I got burnt out and it hit like 3am and I was dying inside. I’ll try my best to keep the daily schedule from here on out though!

But Happy birthday Ouma! This is the fourth entry in a series. If you’re interested, go on my blog and check the tag v3 tangled AU. Thanks!

“I have so many regrets,” Shuuichi groans, voice muffled. His face is starting to hurt a little from the way he flopped right on top of a hedge, leaves and twigs poking and digging into his cheeks, but the darkness the bush provides matches his emotional state, so he stays. If Tsumugi ever found out about this she would be so hurt. He’d never earn her trust back. She’d probably punish him for years, and he’d deserve it. “Why did I do this.”

“Beats me.” Doukeshi leans on a nearby tree, tossing a grey stone up and down. At this rate this side-quest of his will be over sooner than he thought. “Guess you can’t handle this after all, huh?”

“I can do it!” Shuuichi jumps back up, determination in his stance. “It’ll be fine! She’ll just never find out!”

“She?”

“My aunt.” And with that Shuuichi whines again, and falls back to sitting on the floor. “She’ll totally find out…” He’s in so much trouble if he does this. If he goes back right now, he can probably dodge it, right? He’ll tell her he jumped out the window, regretted it, and ran right back in. Does he leave the thief part in?

“You could just lie.” Doukeshi points out. Lying has gotten him out of so many conundrums. There seems to be just a whole lot of backstory here, and while he’s curious, he’s not planning on diving into it. He just wants to get this over with as soon as possible, so he can go home.

“I can’t just lie to her! She’d find me out, and it’d be wrong.” Never mind that Shuuichi is a poor liar, but to betray and then deceive her? No, absolutely not. He needs to just tell the truth, and go back, and this whole thing was a mistake. “I’m going back.”

“Suit yourself.” Doukeshi keeps tossing that rock, staring blankly up at the sky. “Toss me my satchel while you’re up there, will ya?”

“No!” At that, Shuuichi bolts up, and starts marching away from the tower. “We’re not doing that. I’m—I’m going to see those lanterns. You’re not getting out of it that easily.”

“Okay~” Tossing the rock aside, Doukeshi strolls along behind him. He doesn’t point out that this is the wrong direction, just watches as Shuuichi walks several more feet and abruptly stopping.

“I don’t know which way we’re supposed to go,” Shuuichi says, and Doukeshi can’t stifle his snorting, which earns him an embarrassed glare. “Very funny. Lead the way.”

“As you wish, detective-chan.”

They don’t get very far, maybe another few feet, before something rustles nearby. “What was that?” Shuuichi asks, eyes darting around before landing on the bush up ahead.

“I dunno.” Doukeshi shrugs. “Bandits?”

“Bandits?!” The rustling continues. Frying pan armed in sweaty hands, he freezes, eyes glued to the bush.

“Thugs?” Realizing that Shuuichi stopped moving, Doukeshi turns around.

“Thugs?!” Shuuichi takes a small step backward, eyes never leaving the bush.

“Axe murderers?”

“Mur—murderers?”

Something jumps out of the bush, and Shuuichi finds himself hovering behind the thief. After a few seconds, he peers over Doukeshi’s smaller, vest clad shoulder, to see—“It’s just a rabbit.” Small, and furry, and brown. Oh. That…that’s perfectly normal and harmless. He puts the frying pan away.

“You do know we’re outside, right?” Doukeshi asks, glancing behind him, and they both resume walking. “Maybe you can’t handle this.”

“I’ll be fine!” Of course, he knows that. He knows about animals too, but there’s so many other things out here besides just those. Even so, “It was just because you scared me.”

“Nishishi~ Sorry! I can’t help myself!” So Shuuichi is easily scared, huh? Maybe that works in his favor. They only just started but it might be time for a small detour. “Hey, you hungry? Cause I seriously need something to eat!”

“Um, sure.” Beyond the cave, there’s a seemingly endless array of trees. Every tree passed takes Shuuichi one step closer to his dream.

Tsumugi stops in her tracks, scanning the forest for the seventh time in the past half hour. There’s something off about these woods. She’s never been truly alone here—there’s that tavern on the way to town, and there’s always been the occasional child playing dangerous games—but there’s too many people out today. What happened?

The sound of hooves galloping across dirt approaches from behind, and on instinct she hides behind a large maple tree. Citizen? Or worse? A black mare flies past her. Tsumugi only manages to get a brief glimpse at the woman riding it, but the shining chestplate tells all. “No.”

What is a royal guard doing out this deep in her woods? The crown was stolen by someone, but if they’re this far in, they might find him! The trees blur together as she tears through the woods, knocking aside any stray branches or vines in her way. She has to go back. She has to go back!

There it is. The tower. “Shuuichi?” No response. “Shuuichi, let down your hair!” Still nothing. Where is he? Did they find him? She needs to get inside now. Wrenching away at the stones that make up the backside of the tower reveals a hidden stairwell. As soon as there’s enough space for her to crawl through, she does, sprinting up the stairs.

But there’s no one in the main room. “Shuuichi?” And there’s no one in his room. “This just plain isn’t funny!” And there’s no one in her room. No matter where she looks, there’s no sign of silver anywhere in the dark tower. She’s alone.

The noon sun shines through the window, and something shimmers under the stairs to her missing “nephew’s” room. What is that? Pulling the stair reveals a bag containing the stolen crown. But that’s not all. Slowly, Tsumugi pulls out a mask, black and red and resembling a joker’s hat. So Doukeshi took Shuuichi away.

Opening a nearby drawer reveals a glimmering dagger. She’ll find him. She’ll find them both.

“To your right, as previously stated, is more trees,” Shuuichi rolls his eyes as Doukeshi narrates their same-y surroundings. He’s been doing this for at least 20 minutes now, for reasons Shuuichi can’t understand. “But to your left is, voila!” With a grand gesture, the thief showcases a quiet trail that leads to a small building. “Our destination, Saishuu Tavern.”

“Final Tavern…?” What an ominous name. “What happened to the other taverns?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Huh?” What does he mean by that? Did something happen? What could have possibly—“Are you messing with me again?”

“Nishishi~ You make it so easy.” Doukeshi pushes and holds the door open as Shuuichi makes a whining noise in response. “After you.”

“Thank…you…” Shuuichi trails off upon seeing the interior of the pub. It’s…a lot to process. There’s a hodgepodge of stuff furnishing the somewhat-circular room. Some of it is innocent (a portrait or two, a piano), some of it is strange (the steering wheel of a boat, a racket), and some of it…terrifying. The array of knives and spears, a taxidermy deer head, a guillotine, and god there are just so many people. All their eyes are on him. Shuuichi freezes in place.

Except they’re not on him, but on the purple vested man behind him. “Doesn’t that gremlin by the door look familiar to anyone?” Miu wipes her messy blond hair away from her goggles and squints.

“Hmm…Tenko agrees, but she just can’t quite place it,” says Tenko, walking up past Shuuichi to Doukeshi. He’s just glad a woman that buff doesn’t have those threatening eyes on him.

“Who, me? Nah, I’m no one,” Doukeshi waves her off, strolling into the tavern without worry. He takes a seat in a nearby rickety wooden chair. “Sides I think my partner here is the weirder one.”

And everyone is staring at Shuuichi. This time for real. Nobody says anything, they just look dumbstruck at the sheer amount of hair. Until Rantarou pipes up, pressing a finger to his lips revealing the anchor tattoo running down the length of his arm. “No, I know who that is. That’s that thief. Doukeshi.”

“With the hair?” Miu shouts.

“He’s talking about the short one,” says Ryouma who isn’t much taller than the wooden table he’s standing around.

“You don’t get to call me short, dwarf-chan!” Doukeshi pouts, folding his arms and turning away. He looks like a petulant child when he does this, but despite this, is entirely unconcerned about being called out. He’s been in worse situations.

“Nyehh, shouldn’t someone get the guards then?” Himiko says, uncaring that her cape and hat are getting in the way of her attempt to nap on the table.

“It would seem like a logical source of progression,” says Kirumi from behind the bar. Without even looking, she catches the empty glass sliding back her way in her gloved hands.

“I’ll go get them! They should still be nearby!” Kiibo jumps up, one leg made of metal.

“Um—” Shuuichi starts, but the boy is already out the door. Great. He just got here, and he’s already going to lose his guide.

“Heyyy, barmaid-chan, can you get me the most disgustingly sweet drink you have?” Doukeshi waves his arm from his corner table, but she just ignores him. Even better: the thief doesn’t care at all.

“Um, Doukeshi-san, maybe we should—”

“Relaaaax, Detective-chan. I’m not getting caught. ‘Sides,” Doukeshi looks around the room with an easy-going grin, and Shuuichi is once again reminded of the weaponry on the wall. What kind of place is this? Is he in danger? “Don’t you wanna take in the experience? This is a five-star joint!”

“Actually, I think I really don’t—”

“Excuse me,” blue eyes bore directly into Shuuichi’s own, cutting off his line of thought, “but Angie was wondering why you’re with a wanted thief?”

“Gonta wants to know that too.” Lumbering over from the back, Gonta stares curiously at Shuuichi’s hair. “Also, why do you have so much hair?”

“Is it not possible that this menace is one of the accomplices to the crime?” Tenko says.

Ryouma scans Shuuichi briefly, and says, “Doesn’t seem practical with this much hair.”

“Obviously it’s a fuckin’ wig,” Miu says. “They’re both just trying shitty disguises.”

“They definitely don’t make wigs that long…” Himiko mumbles.

“Even if they did, I heard there were two accomplices,” Rantarou says.

The debate goes on around Shuuichi, with numerous voices piping in with their theories or suspicions. He wants to take Doukeshi and leave, but the thief shows no sign of leaving, kicking his feet back on the table and even egging them on. Not helping! The room is stifling. It’s so hard to breathe. Why did he leave the tower? He wants to go home. This was a mistake. There are so many people, and they’re all getting closer, and arguing, and arguing, about him, and Doukeshi, and his hair, and him and him and him—

“Hey guys, maybe we should let him talk,” Kaede says. She gets up from her seat at the piano, and walks over to Shuuichi, who all this time was still paralyzed at the door. With a gentle smile, she asks, “What’s your name?”

Deep breaths. Shuuichi exhales, slow and long, before finally speaking up. “I’m um, Shuuichi. Just Shuuichi.”

“Shuuichi-kun then. Then you can call me Kaede.” Her voice is warm and reassuring, like Shuuichi always imagined his mother would be like. He nods. “Do you want to explain why you’re here?”

“Well…” How does he begin with this? Obviously, Shuuichi can’t say anything about the hair, but the rest? Can he tell them about the deal? Probably not. So all that’s left is his dream. Are they really going to accept something so simple? So childish? It’s worth a shot. “I wanted to see the lantern festival. I’ve never gone, well…anywhere, before, so I need him to take me.”

“And the hair?” Miu asks. Crap he’s not out of this after all. What does he say? Does he lie? Can he lie? Should he lie? The longer he stays silent, the more suspicious this looks. But he doesn’t know what to say! What should he do—?

“He’s going for a world record,” Doukeshi answers. He’s not looking at Miu, but Shuuichi, and winks. A rescue; thank god. “I want in on the cash prize, so I struck a deal with him.” It’s a lie, but it saved him. Shuuichi will have to thank him for that.

“Stealing the crown wasn’t enough?” Gonta exclaims.

“Is the lantern festival really that important to you?” Kirumi asks. Nobody says it, but the question is implied: is it worth getting tangled up with a thief for this?

But to Shuuichi, that’s something he doesn’t even have to think about. “Yes.” It’s resolute, something he hasn’t been since he arrived. Maybe even before that.  “I’ve been dreaming about them my entire life, so now that I have that chance, I need to take it.” And maybe he’s working with a thief, but he thinks that Doukeshi isn’t all that evil. He didn’t have to help. In fact, he could have probably snuck out while they all focused on him, and ran back to the tower, but he stayed. He’s risked a lot just to be here.

But they’re going to turn him in if Kiibo gets back before they can leave. Shuuichi’s chance ends right here, unless he does something. He can’t let that happen. “So…I need you to let us leave.”

Doukeshi raises an eyebrow. Is he serious? Does he really think they’re just going to let him leave? Let Shuuichi go, maybe, but not him. Doukeshi is pretty sure he’s going to have to think fast to get out. Is he really that naïve?

“You can tell the guards where we went, if you want,” Shuuichi continues, looking around at the skeptical group, “I think that’s perfectly fair, but please just let us go. I’m sure all of you have dreams, right?”

“Oh? What makes you say that?” Angie asks, leaning over to the side. On her belt he can see a bunch of painting supplies.

“All of the stuff in the room,” Shuuichi explains. He’s been wondering about the eclectic collection this whole time. The knives, and spears, and taxidermy, all scream ‘thug bar’, and so do the tattoos some of the patrons have, but the other things? “Like Angie-san, you painted all the portraits hanging here, right?”

Angie lights up. “I did!”

“Kaede-san plays that piano.”

Kaede nods.

“And I think you—” Shuuichi points to the green-haired man.

“Amami Rantarou. You can call me Rantarou.”

“Rantarou-san’s a sailor. That wheel on the wall was your idea, right?”

One by one, Shuuichi wanders through the tavern, going through all the items in the room. He matches them from person to person, based on things they’re wearing, or things nearby where they were. Even for Kiibo, who is no longer in the room. And one by one, he captures the interests and names and hearts of every single person he figures out. He thought for sure that if Shuuichi came here, he’d be so overwhelmed he’d want to go back home, and yet. It’s kind of amazing, Doukeshi thinks, that someone so naïve is still so capable. Despite himself, he finds himself a little impressed.

“What about his dream?” Kaede asks, pointing to Doukeshi, and once again everyone’s attention is on him.

“Eh, don’t bother,” Doukeshi says, getting up from his seat. “It’s to be insanely rich so I can lord it over everyone else.” That’s a lie, of course, but nobody here needs to know that.

“That’s horrible,” Tenko says, and everyone nods in agreement, making their own judgmental remarks amongst themselves.

In that instant, the door bursts open, and Kiibo returns with around five or six guards. “I found them!”

And just as suddenly, he’s being grabbed, dragged behind the bar along with Shuuichi. He looks around bewildered, just in time to see Kirumi pull a lever, and the wooden floor beneath them lowers into a ramp, leading into a tunnel. An escape route. So all that touchy-feely stuff paid off. “Go. And don’t come back, or we’ll have to turn you in,” she says, with a stern gaze.

“Thank you, Kirumi-san.” Shuuichi bows a little from his spot on the floor. He didn’t think he’d be able to sway them, but he did. Somehow.

Her stern gaze turns soft, and she smiles at him. “Make your dream come true, Shuuichi-san. I hope it’s everything you’ve imagined.”

“Where is he?” Kaito is talking to the patrons about their disappeared thief while the other guards patrol outside, but they seem to be giving mixed stories. Maki tunes them out.

Those stories never mattered, because he definitely didn’t leave through the door. She has her own witness confirming it. So how did he escape? She’s examined every square inch of this room, but she doesn’t see that pesky thief at all. There has to be some trick. Going up to the bar, she runs her hands along the taps, until she finds one that moves. A lever. A yank, and the floor opens up to reveal a tunnel. “So that’s where he went. Momota. Get everyone. We’re leaving.”

“Harumaki—” But she’s already gone. Kaito sighs. “Fine, I’ll get them.”

Tsumugi watches from the window as Maki storms into the tunnel. It was quite easy to manipulate such an impulsive guard. She needs someone to catch that thief, after all, and dealing with a pest is their job. But she has to get to Shuuichi first, before they do.

He was traipsing around this tavern—carelessly—happily. She saw him. He had the audacity to betray her like this? Oh no. She’s not having that. He’ll have to be punished too.

“Oh, hello Miss.” She finds herself being addressed by a young boy with a metal leg. “Can I do anything for you?”

“You can actually,” Tsumugi replies with a plastic grin, before pointing the dagger right between his eyes. “Tell me where that tunnel lets out.”

Shuuichi will get his punishment, she just has to catch him first.

[digitalyogesh]

Natrum mur

Natrum mur

Salt is so normal an article of diet that it has been expected that it very well may be of no utilization in medication. This is just the assessment of men who work totally on the tissues. There are no sacred impacts from unrefined salt.

One may track down an individual becoming meager with every one of the manifestations of salt; he is taking salt in extraordinary amounts, however processing none of it. Salt will be found in the stool, for it doesn’t go into the life. There is a Natr. mur. inanition, a destitute for salt. The equivalent is valid for lime. Youngsters can get a lot of lime from their food and that is better when the salt or the lime is given fit that it can’t be opposed by the inside man pointed not at the house he lives in but rather at the individual himself then the bone, salt inanition, the Natr. mur. inanition, will before long die. ‘We don’t with our little portion supply the salt that the framework needs, yet we fix the inner infection, we transform into request the inside actual man, and afterward the tissues get salt enough from the food. Medications should all be directed in appropriate structure. We may have to go ever more elevated until the mysterious spring is contacted.

Natr. mur. is a profound acting, long acting cure. It’s anything but an awesome hold of the economy, making changes that are enduring when given in potentized portions. An extraordinary arrangement is introduced that can be seen by taking a gander at the patient, so we say: this resembles a Natr. mur. patient. Experienced doctors figure out how to arrange patients by appearance. The skin is gleaming, Pale, waxy, looks as though lubed. There is a great surrender of an impossible to miss kind. Starvation, shortcoming, apprehensive surrender, anxious touchiness.

There is an Iong chain of mental indications; insane state of the psyche and body; sobbing substituting with chuckling; overpowering giggling at unsatisfactory occasions; drawn out, uncontrollable chuckling. This will be trailed by mournfulness, extraordinary trouble, dismalness. Regardless of how cheering the conditions are she can’t carry herself into the condition of being happy. She is dulled to impressions, effectively takes on melancholy, laments over nothing. Unsavory events are reviewed that she may lament over them. Encouragement exasperates the condition of the brain the despairing, the sorrow, now and then welcomes on outrage. She seems to offer for compassion and is frantic when it is given. Cerebral pain goes ahead with this despairing. She strolls the floor in rage. She is incredibly neglectful; can’t project up accounts; can’t think; fails to remember what she planned to say; loses the string of what she is hearing or perusing. There is an incredible surrender of the brain.

Pathetic friendship welcomes on objections. She can’t handle her expressions of warmth and becomes hopelessly enamored with a wedded man. She realizes Natrum mur that it is stupid yet lies alert with affection for him. She becomes hopelessly enamored with a coachman. She realizes that she is indiscreet yet can’t resist. In instances of this sort Natr. mur. will transform her psyche into request, and she will think back and can’t help thinking about why she was so senseless. This cure has a place with crazy young ladies.

In a psychological state where Ign. briefly benefits the manifestations, however doesn’t fix, its constant, Natr. mur. ought to be given. It is too to give Natr. mur. immediately if there is a fundamental sacred state excessively profound for Ign. Abhorrence for bread, to fats and rich things.

The Natr. mur. patient is extraordinarily upset by fervor, is incredibly enthusiastic. The entire anxious economy is in a condition of fret and disturbance, < from clamor, the pummeling of an entryway, the ringing of a ringer, the discharging of a gun, < music. The torments are sewing, electric-like stuns, convulsive jerkings of the appendages on nodding off, twitchings, shooting torments. She is oversensitive to a wide range of impacts, is edgy, enthusiastic, serious.

Grumblings enter the warm room, more regrettable in the house, she needs the outside. The psychological grumblings are > in the outside. She takes cold effectively from perspiring, yet is for the most part > in the outdoors, however more terrible on getting warmed, < by adequate effort to warm up, yet > by moderate effort in the virus air. Both. Natr. carb. furthermore, Natr. mur. have the overall apprehensive strain of Natrona yet one is a cold patient, the other warm blooded.

The face is debilitated looking, the skin oily, gleaming, pallid, yellow, regularly chlorotic, covered with vesicular ejections around the edges of the hair, the ears and back of – the neck. There are textured and squamous ejections, with incredible tingling, overflowing a watery liquid, or once in a while dry, A shedding happens, a sparkling surface is left In the meatus, scales structure and strip off, leaving an overflowing surface. Watery vesicles structure about the lips and wings of the nose, about the private parts and butt. Vesicular emissions, white, overflowing a watery liquid, travel every which way. Extraordinary tingling of the skin is available

The skin looks waxy, dropsical. There is extraordinary anorexia, the skin looking dry, shriveled, contracted. A baby resembles a little elderly person. There is a down on the face that dies when improvement sets in. Thinness happens from above descending. The collar-bones become conspicuous and the neck looks gaunt, however the hips and lower appendages stay full and round. Lyc. additionally has gauntness from above descending. The headings of cures will frequently empower us to recognize one from another.

The trademark release from the mucous layers is watery or thick whitish, similar to the white of an egg. There is a checked coryza with a watery release, however the sacred state has thick, white releases. He sells out a thick, white release in the first part of the day. There are gluey oozings from the eyes. From the ears streams a thick, white, gluey release. The leucorrhoea is white and thick. With the gonorrhea Natrum mur the release has existed quite a while and become gleety. There is stinging in the urethra solely after pee.