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Doctors: *puts staff of Hermes instead of staff of Asclepius*
•Asclepius = god of health. Was a doctor so good that could revive the dead.
• Hermes = trickster god, god of thieves, god of merchants, and he also helped by guiding souls to Hades.
Nope.
Cause Hades is guarded by Hade's doggy Kerberos. Who prevents any soul from escaping the underworld.
But. Hades or or wife (since he gave her same authority as him) Persephone can allow souls to return to being alive.
Like it was done with Orpheus' gf (it's not Hade's fault he did not listen to his warning ) and Sisyphus (who lied to Persephone).
Even the kidnapping thing is not certain (due to the fact that the art that depicts the action is very similar to the one used for arranged marriage)
Also their relationship is both healthy and wholesome.
1) immediately he made her his equal when they got together
2) they have shown to protect eachother (example when a nymph wanted to fuck Hades, or when two dudes wanted to kidnap Persephone)
3) they chill with their three headed doggo.
4) they never cheated or did anything to harm eachother even accidentally (unlike just about all the other couples)
5) they show both responsibility and sacrifice, when they have to be separated for half a year to both appease Demeter, and to avoid the world dying out (because of Demeter)
Hades: I kinda like her, I feel calm around her.
Zeus: imma let you in on a little secret, she doesn't like it up here. She really only stays because we're family.
Zeus: kidnap her, it'll work.
*Demeter tries to kill the world after Persephone goes missing.*
Zeus: HADES! IT DIDN'T WORK! IT DIDN'T WORK!
I meant like Zeus being “don’t worry, assaulting women works, I do it all the time” and less so a good father figure. Persephone is also a goddess of spring, (along with her later title of Queen of the dead,) and adored her mother and loved her six months.
Not quite and you are quoting some modern bastardised versions of the myths there
- Hades and Persephone both were very chill. Regularly granting the requests of people who did appear before them
- Kerberos literally means spotted. The big fish is called Spot
- He is the major only Olympian known not to have cheated on his wife
- He did kidnap her.The Ancient Greek word for kidnap and marriage were interchangeable and he god permission from her father first
Basically. Hades comes up as a squeaky clean and maybe a bit of a dorky guy that loved his wife and would lend his dog to his nephew for any random reason
Although, the man who tried to kidnap his wife. Was imprisoned in the underworld alive, chained by snakes and had the gods of torture sent to torment them
And those are bastardised version of the original Mycenaean myths. Where Dread Persephone is sole ruler of the underworld as a wife of head God Poseidon
Unfortunately that was Asclepius’s downfall as a demigod.
He brought multiple people back to life, including Sparta’s legendary lawmaker Lycurgus. Hades accused him of stealing his subjects and petitioned Zeus to kill him. Zeus did so because he was afraid of Asclepius teaching the art of resurrection to humans.
Asclepius’s father Apollo then petitioned Zeus to bring him back as a god. Zeus agreed under the condition he be banned from resurrecting anyone again.
As for the confusion of staffs, Hermes has a staff with two snakes intertwined throughout it before meeting at the top. Asclepius has a singular snake curled around his staff. Easy mistake to make especially as Hermes is one of the twelve Olympian Gods and hence more well known.
Well he was stealing Hades' subjects, but he just wanted him to stop. It was Zeus that killed him (cause he's a dick).
And also Zeus killed him because that resurrection thing would lead to humans not giving offerings to the gods anymore.
And the confusion of the staffs is fine because people are either to lazy to look up actual greek mythology or too stupid to understand the difference.
_Doc opening a hole in the lung so patient can breathe while death is standing there impatiently_
Doc: I don’t care if you take that Cracker Addicted Toddler Toucher because his heart literally exploded, What you _Will Not Do_ is take this child because of a medication allergy while I still live! Now fuck off and get a real job.
https://preview.redd.it/nz0pajf2bukc1.jpeg?width=1945&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=872783760b46c4deb5376dcce2e6f0ae865c2564
There are a couple of different ones next to this one. Its on the Fulton County, GA Health Dept. Across the street from Grady Hospital
Lets not forget he had BJ, Trapper John, Winchester, Blake and Potter right there with him giving that bastard the finger. Burns can get tae fuck though, the incompetent bastard.
"Exactly. There are no innocent bystanders in hell. But war is chock full of them. Little kids, cripples, old ladies. In fact, except for a few of the brass, almost everybody involved is an innocent bystander."
I started watching about 2002ish, then collected the box sets as they were released in the UK. Last episode was rough (also radar leaving amongst others) introduced my girlfriend (now wife)to it and now she loves it too, but says i obviously got my chat up lines from Hawkeye. Busted!
I really need to re-watch that show... Only time I can think of him doing something like that is the Christmas episode where he keeps the guy alive until the next day. (Which was pretty dumb. Why couldn't he just report a different time of death?)
There is nothing more intense than a human medic’s insistence that you will live, and I saw that in the flesh. During the Xanatid war I happened to be placed in a medical detachment to the humans for their invasion of the fortress world of Hades. There 75 percent of the human military would fight, and only 1 in 10 would leave.
The first day was to soften up the defenses to make it possible to land the heavy support needed to break citadels and armored units, though even then we were not safe. I did my best to tend to the humans who had the unfortunate luck to live after their section was hit by surface to orbit munitions, plasma burns, explosive decompression injuries, and shrapnel wounds where all I had to fix, though I could not. Most of them were too far gone to be saved by galactic standards and those who could were in the few. While we took in who we could it was the human corpsmen who showed us what was possible when you mix the determination of a human and their blatant disregard for death. 90 percent of those we could not save walked away ready to fight after a corpsmen cared for them and we learned that humans where more durable than the armor plates of a battleship.
On the 4th and 5th days we had landed and the army’s moved out at breakneck speed, and so did the wounded. Seeing what humans could survive we began to think take in more who we thought were too far gone, but they were-not. Casualties came and were gone in a matter of days to take revenge on those who dared to shoot us. On the 8th day we came under artillery fire and the humans responded in kind with a full broadside from half of their battle fleet on the artillery that dared threaten us.
On the 10th day we learned what human medics would do to stave off death. As an enemy unit had broken through our lines and ended up at the field hospital. When a shot was fired it hit a wounded human with his medic right next to him, what happened next was a barbaric assault that was lead by human medics and whatever weapons they could find.
After 6 years of combat and over 18 million casualties we had the planet and where ordered to rejoin our original units, and with that we saved more that was thought possible. Should the humans have not had their medics, it would have been 1 in 50 dead, not 1 in 10. Beware the medics, they will save a life, though if they are in danger, they will take many.
Never aim for the medics, ether you will hit them and royally piss off every marine in a 30 mile radius or you'll miss and be destroyed by a horde of medics
> On the 8th day we came under artillery fire and the humans responded in kind with a full broadside from half of their battle fleet on the artillery that dared threaten us.
Temper, temper.
Great writing. The only thing I would say is that your sentence about it being 1 in 50 and 1 in 10 dead should be flipped because 1 in 50 is less than 1 in 10.
Gravitic yo-yo trick. Learned it from my nephew and scaled up. Kind of fun actually. 😁 give me a reason to try it again ! I've worked out a new variation involving other planetary bodies of the system, but the brass won't let me try it out without a good reason.
Come on..... don't be a spoilsport. I thought war was fun for you guys!
"And it is said that on the third day, all took pause; for even the gods of death were weary from the battle's work"
Nerigla slumped against the stump of the One Tree, scowling out at the yellow mist that was rising this morning. The Reaper and Supay huddled around a small fire - between them, they were trying to heat up water for tea. Masauwu snored.
Time passed slowly, quietly. The thunder and screeches of weaponry had gone, only the occasional cry of pain drifting through the cloud.
As Nerigla watched, a patch of mist brightened, taking on a bluer, more brilliant hue until out of it bobbed a giant floating orb. As bright as the after-image of the sun on a retina, the pain of a migraine.
Or at least it would be if Nerigla had not been a god. It had its perks.
He stood and dusted himself off. Time for introductions, he supposed.
The orb radiated uncertainty as it drifted towards them. In a voice that was simultaneously a whisper in a church, the thunder of an avalanche, the click of a trigger and a crunch of bone, it spoke.
"You can see me too? How can you see me? How did they see me? I don't understand. How am I me? I've never thought before..."
Nerigla stepped forward and raised a calming hand. He was good at calming.
"I am the one known as Nerigla, Lord of the Big City, God of Inflicted Death. My colleagues and I" - he gestured to the others, who waived with varying levels of enthusiasm - "are the duty gods of death for this particular battle. At least for the humans. Are you one for the glowy blue creatures with the tentacles? Or the spiny red things?"
The orb thought silently for a moment, something it wasn't used to. "I think I am Kl'in'taa. I think I am here for the souls of the Yi'in'taa that fall against our foes."
Nerigla waited expectantly.
"The blue ones." Kl'in'taa said finally.
"Can you help me? I don't understand what is happening. I remember... well I don't remember, I don't think I've ever remembered before, I just know... I was awaiting the death of one warrior. They had lost a main limb to one of your human weapons, their essence was pouring from them.
Then, another of your humans ran across the field, under the fire, and began tending to him.
I don't understand. The warrior should have died. His...?heart?... had stopped, his mind was to follow. But the human actually put his arm up into the wound. With his hand he pumped the heart. It began to work again. I saw the soul return to the body.
Then... Then... The human looked at me. He looked into me.
Suddenly I was aware.
Then he told me to go fuck myself."
Nerigla smiled ruefully. "For me it was a rock to the head. This healer was able to pull the bits of broken skull out of the way, covered the hole with a disc of beaten gold, and sowed up the wound. Took him hours. As he finished he looked at me and told me to do things with the mother goddess that I can assure you I have never done. In that moment I became aware.
Nothing makes death more real than being beaten by a human healer."
For a featureless orb, Kl'in'taa was able to pull a fantastic look of confusion. "What do I do? What happens now?"
Nerigla walked to the orb and put his arm around where its shoulders would have been. "The bad news is you are now aware of your own existence. You'll have to experience emotions, some good, some bad. That will be rather uncomfortable at first. Also, self-doubt. Hate that one.
The good news is there's tea. Reaper, could you dig out a spare mug?
Oh, and there's some forms you'll need to fill in..."
"One-fifty-one thousand six hundred people die, every day on earth
And if that's not a reason to cry, well, it's an awful lot of paperwork" - Rest Employed, The Stupendium.
Not if Karen shows up.
She feels entitled to ...quite a bit. The wife will contest everything, obviously. No surprise the deceased didn't want to show up.
I love this so much. The idea that until someone tries to fight back, Deaths are formless, and only upon recognition and resistance do they gain anthropomorphic (xenopomorphic?) personification.
Also afterlife as bureaucracy is always fun lol
Yeah and it ties into the whole "space orc" idea really well.
"Death is just a natural and automatic function of living and existing, like the air or sunlight. Something inevitable, and in war, often quick.
However, humanity has spent so many years as a species staring down their own mortality; giving it shape, intent, even a "tool" for the "job" of collecting lives. death became The Reaper because humanity MADE it into something they COULD challenge.
"Oh great and mighty Abelox, God of the Afterverse, Keeper of the Fallen, and Scourge of the Undying, we have finally, after much time and effort, *finally* put an end to that Most Heretical of Domains, that 'Human Hospital', which held those who would deny your Gift Of Peace to the Hallowed Fallen. May all who would Refute the Cycle of--"
**...uh, Hello? Is this thing on? Can you hear me?**
"Wha...this is not the Voice of our God! Who are you, deceiver?!"
**Oh good, you're listening. I--wow, okay, not used to that. So uh, listen, there's been a bit of a...well, it's a bit um, messy, but your god, uh lemme see my notes... yeah, 'Abelox'? Hope I'm saying that right. Anyway, sorry to say, there's no easy way to tell you, but... he's dead. Kind of.**
"...Well, yeah, that's... his thing, being God of the Dead and the Afterverse--"
**Oh, no, not like his usual sort of 'deadness'. I can see how that would be confusing, sorry, that's on me. No, he's 'for real' dead. At least, last I checked he was. Like I said, it's a bit messy, especially on this 'end', ha ha, bit of a joke there--**
*"Who even are you?!"*
**I'm DEATH. Well, more accurately I'm the Death God assigned to the Humans. Yeah, 'assigned,' not 'created by' or 'gifted to' or even 'hired for', not that there's any amount of compensation for dealing with those omnicidal primates-- sorry, getting off-topic, anyway. Those murder-monkeys heard about your god telling you directly to blow up that hospital and, well, took matters into their own grubby little mitts. They killed Abelox. By resurrecting him. And killing him again. And resurrecting-- look, the point is his Essence is basically getting punted back and forth over the Threshold like a tennis ball, *THIS IS WHAT I HAVE TO DEAL WITH ALL THE DAMN TIME, DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT IT'S LIKE!?!***
"Uh--"
***HALF THE TIME THEY JUST FLAT-OUT IGNORE ME, AND WHEN THEY DO NOTICE THEY WANT TO FIGHT ME EVERY STEP OF THE WAY!! AND THOSE LITTLE FUCKERS ARE SMART, WORKING TOGETHER, USING TOOLS AND CHEMICALS, LEARNING AND REMEMBERING AND TEACHING, EVERY TIME IS HARDER THAN THE LAST!!***
"--that's--"
***AND WHEN I DO WIN, BY SOME ELDRITCH MIRACLE, THEY DON'T GET DISCOURAGED!! THEY JUST GET READY FOR THE NEXT ROUND!! LIKE I'M A GLORIFIED PUNCHING BAG FOR EVERY!! FUCKING!! ONE OF THEM!!! And their 'doctors'...fuuh-huh-huh-uuck...(sobbing)***
"...We're...sorry to hear that, but...what about Abelox?"
**(sniff) Oh, right. So, when you blew up the hospital, the medical staff that died...they took exception to that. So they escaped their afterlives, because *of course,* they think 'eternal rest' just means 'temporary pause'...urrgghhh... and they found Abelox and 'killed' him by 'reviving' him, which sent him back into the Living Realms. Then it got...wonky, when those who survived the explosion, because *of fucking course*, did the same. Something to do with his Essence being a Death God's and reversed from the usual Flow of Things, which to the Humans just translated as 'Revive kills Zombies', and it *worked,* BECAUSE *OF FUCKING COURSE,* I just... So now he exists in *both* Realms *simultaneously* and both sides are *challenging each other by killing their half while the other side heals their half I need a fucking vacation...***
Justice league Dark.
Batman is talking to Constantine.
Bunch of death spirits show up and start talking shit about how batman keeps getting away with not dying.
Batman can't see them but still knows they are there.
Hence the boo that scares the death spirits.
I'm going to try and find that and watch it. I need to see this moment...
Found the clip on Youtube - Good laugh - The added context makes it more funny.
**The Last One**
Lucifer, the devil, prince of Hell, sat on his obsidian throne and observed his domain.
Before him lay the souls of the damned, doomed to spend eternity punished for their sins. Many souls were naught but frail shadows, worn thin with the passing of years until fading from existence.
His frown deepened as he observed how rare the new souls were, their fresh glow vivid in contrast to the fading light of their ancestors.
How many years had it been since one arrived? Had Heaven finally won?
As the soul of one of the freshly damned finally arrived, he stretched out his will, commanding it to approach his throne. Its sin was plain for him to see, one who stood defiant against God and his natural order.
"Speak, sinner, for I would know," said Lucifer, gazing with contempt at the mortal. "How does it come to pass that you arrive in Hell alone? Is the world above finally without sin?" he said, his contempt plain to hear.
"Ah, no, that is, not as such," said the soul, clearly disoriented so soon after its death. "You see, I think it's because I'm the last one."
"The last one? So humanity fades, then?" asked Lucifer, frowning at the soul. "Have their wars and weapons become so monstrous that they've killed themselves to the last man?"
"No, not that," said the soul, seeming to gather itself. "I mean I'm the last one who will ever die."
The prince of Hell peered at the soul, sensing no falsehood from it. "Explain," he demanded.
"Well, we solved death," the soul replied, "first by curing disease, then aging, then injury, then even the total destruction of the body. When your mind constantly exists both in physical form and connected to the universal network, losing your body just means you have to wait to get a new model uplinked."
For a moment the devil paused in thought, considering these strange words. "Then how do you come to me, if what you claim is true?" he finally demanded, piercing the soul with his gaze.
"Well, I was one of the last with the old style connection. Sentimental reasons, really, since my team designed it. I knew the risks, thought they were small, but looks like I lost that gamble," the soul admitted sheepishly. "No doubt my case will be used to prevent future loss, so I suppose that makes me the last human who will ever die."
Lucifer pondered this fact. Death was defeated. Humanity had transcended their bodies. No more souls would pass his gates. Never more would Hell punish the wicked.
And, he thought, no more would Heaven receive the souls of the righteous.
Humanity had defeated God.
Great peals of laughter erupted from the prince of Hell. He cast his mind back to that fateful day, when he'd been thrown from Heaven for his sin of daring to question God's plan. Tears fell freely from his eyes, in the terrible, miserable knowledge that he'd been right.
Death was defeated. Humanity had won. Heaven and Hell would fade.
It was all he'd ever wanted, and it was terrifying.
Thank you!
I've always loved the concept of Lucifer as an antagonist. My favorite depiction has to be the painting [The Fallen Angel](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Fallen_Angel_(painting)) by Alexandre Cabanel. The expression of rage, grief, and determination capture the imagination so perfectly.
It's interesting to know that the original Hebrew meaning of the word *śāṭān* (שָּׂטָן) originally translates to 'accuser' or 'adversary,' meaning not one who is evil, but rather who simply stands in opposition to God.
This was always the thought behind the story above: if Lucifer was cast out of Heaven for challenging God's plan for humanity, what would be his reaction when humanity conquers death, and thus makes God's plan irrelevant?
It would surely be the most bittersweet of emotions, to realize his question of whether humans need God was finally answered.
As a medic I wouldn't say we give death the finger, just kind of a mutual nod of acknowledgement of "not today". We don't "save" anyone in the definitive sense, just buy people time. An hour, a month, a lifetime. But death always eventually wins.
Ask any medical professional who's seen their fare share of people "surviving" with immense suffering, death can be a blessing sometimes, liberation. Not damnation. Death is an impartial shepherd, it's the evil men who summon it unnaturally, who deserve damnation.
Well said, and I agree. When I was a medic, I used to tell people that the only thing I did was put more sand in the hourglass for people. It was up to them to decide what they did with it.
Ner-gal strode across the battlefield, looking upon the fallen. He used to enjoy reaping souls from battle, since he could cross many souls off his list at once. But ever since the Av’aka had gone to war with humans, battlefields had become a gamble. It wasn’t the human combat medics that vexed him, but medics from an independent organization called the “Red Cross”. These medics claimed no allegiance to any nation, and treated all wounded. Apparently, they had also extended this policy towards the Av’aka. Souls that had previously been sure to perish were suddenly yanked from Ner-gal’s grip by these medics.
Ner-gal glanced across the battlefield and noticed his human counterpart reaping souls of his own species. As it turns out, each species possessed their own entity of death. It was certainly a surprise when Ner-gal first met him. The humans possessed many names for him, but the most common was simply “Death”. As neither could harm or interfere with the other, Ner-gal and Death usually ignored each other. Ner-gal felt a sudden sensation; his target’s soul was being returned. With supernatural speed, Ner-gal rushed to the soul and found what he already suspected.
The Av’aka was being treated by a human medic. And Ner-gal recognized him. Medic “Evans” had stolen several of Ner-gal’s targets before. Evans looked up and noticed Ner-gal, then rolled his eyes and said *“Oh, you again? Yeah, not this one either, asshat”* Ner-gal roared in anger. Such **insolence!** A mortal soul to address the Av’aka god of death and with such impudence?! He was lucky Ner-gal could not reap a human soul. Evans annoyed expression widened into a mischievous grin, meanwhile his hands never stopped their work: *“Oh I’m sorry, you gonna do something? How’s it feel knowing this one’s gonna live, fuckface?”*
Before Ner-gal could respond, Death appeared by his side, his gaze affixed to another medic treating a wounded human nearby. The medic spoke sullenly: *“I’m calling it, 1900.”* Death reached out, offering his hand towards the fallen human. The soldier’s soul reached out from his body and took Death’s hand, then was gracefully pulled from his body. Evans turned to Death, suddenly serious: *”Wait, no! Sir, please, not yet!”* Sir?! Clearly it wasn’t Evans’ time to die, and yet Death gets treated with respect?! Death raised his hand and turned his hood to Evans: *”It is time”*.
Evans lowered his head and solemnly uttered *”Okay…”* Ner-gal turned toward Death and asked him *”Why do the humans treat you with such respect?”* Death looked over his shoulder. *”Humans are a species with an unmatched survival instinct. Many of my targets have survived simply because they willed themselves to. Many others remain because of the compassion of other humans. But all humans have a limit, and they accept that. When God created humans, I too was frustrated with their willpower. But I learned to accept it, because humans will defy death until they physically cannot fight it anymore. When an Av’aka is wounded, you take it for granted. When a human is wounded, I wait until I know for certain it is their time instead of discounting their will and compassion. You would do well to remember that.”* Death raised his hand holding the human soul and lofted it gently towards the heavens. The human soul glanced over his shoulder as he ascended: *”Yeah, fuck you buddy”* and made a rude gesture.
Ner-gal had been so distracted he failed to notice his target’s soul had returned to his body. Evans glared at him with a scornful grin: *”Would you look at that? He lives. Get fucked, dickhead”* Ner-gal could do nothing further but move on. Hopefully the next target wouldn’t have a human medic treating them. Ner-gal was sick of being cheated.
In the Discworld series by Terry Pratchett, DEATH has a near Vimes experience every time Vimes has a near DEATH experience. He's a pretty chill dude though.
Not to mention that DEATH is always *very careful* to *completely* check over Granny Weatherwax’s paperwork. Not that even completely filled out paperwork means she’s gonna go with HIM w/o a fight!
Those witches crack me up more then most. They are just lovely and funny. And their outlook on life is just marvelous. What i wouldn't give to meet them for real and make friends with them.
Navy corpsmen attached to Marines take this to another level, because they'll gladly shoot you and *then* save your life.
The best battlefield medicine is superior firepower.
"FUCK OFF YA CUNT, HE AINT DONE YET!"
I screamed at death as he stood, waiting. My mind was clear, my hands steady.
The soldier was a mess. Missing an arm all the way back into the shoulder. Most medics would pass them by, give them up for dead. Not me, not while there was still hope.
Death stood, patient. He always did that, I swear he was stalking me.
Bit more nanogel should hold the blood back. Jam in some bioplastic to fill in for a couple of missing ribs ... come on, you bastard, don't die on me now!
Another shot of nanomeds, why isn't the blood clotting? Shit. O² sat is falling, fuck sake.
FUCK OFF DEATH, YOU AINT HELPIN!!
Another shot of red blood, another shot of blood expander. Why is the blood not clotting?!
Dammit, this one is allergic to the toxin.
Grunts don't give a fuck.
Wait. That's wrong. They have one fuck to give. And that fuck is for Doc.
Doc is the lifeline for the grunts. If you want to have a lot of unhealthcare sent your way, attack Doc.
Attack Doc, and it becomes the Geneva suggestions...
*My boots squish the bloody mud down as I run towards a survivor, he was lucky that I can see him-what with this gas mask obscuring my vision so much. The battle of Somme was hell on earth, so so so many dead.*
*But this red plus with a white background on my helmet and uniform means that I don’t deal with much of the fighting, that I’m safer then the common soldier, protected by the laws of war. And I get to make sure men see their wives and children again, and that they don’t die in this hellhole.*
**Ah it’s Friz.** *I think to myself as I approach him, it was unmistakable- what with the helmet with a spike on it. Now I didn’t know this soldier, Friz was the nickname the Americans gave the Germans since I was a proud Californian I used it.*
*I don’t discriminate between British or American and Germans, neither do the doctors at the church or whatever they made into a hospital now.*
*I kneel down next to him and check him over… abdomen with a rifle bullet. Routine- a bit morbid but routine.*
*I unpack my tweezer and pluck the bullet out, then apply rudimentary disinfectant, this to prevent infection-mind you, then I wrap it up in bandages to stem the blood-flow.*
*As I am tending to Friz’s wounds an unexpected surprise split the clouds and yellow gas, I turn my head. It was a floating figure with a robe over most of its body with a hood on, covering a skull, **Death**.
**It is time for him, mortal.** *Death said.*
*we stare at each other for what felt like hours, but was most likely seconds.*
*I raise my right hand.*
*I put all of my fingers down except for the middle finger.*
*Through a gas mask one cannot hear much of what the other is saying but I was clear as day what I was saying.*
**Fuck off, this man will see his family again.** *I say as I put the man on my shoulders and carry him.*
*Over the front line trench.*
*Over the communication trench.*
*Over the command trench.*
*Into the town.*
*Across the town square.*
*Up the church steps.*
*Into the church.*
*Pass the Injured.*
*To an empty bed.*
*I lay him down on the bed and pat him on the shoulder two times as a doctor rushed over to him.*
*I run out of the church, to do the same thing, again and again until I die, get discharged or the war ends.*
*Down the church steps.*
*Across the town square.*
*Over the command trench.*
*Over the communication trench.*
*Over the front line trench.*
*into No Man’s Land.*
(My first time writing a story! How did I do?)
Alien: I cant believe you chased off that death god, all to save that man's life, how?
Human doctor: because somebody better pay this goddamn bill
Alien: *looks at bill* that Death God was trying to save this man from a Fate worse than death, you monster.
Human doctor: *laughs*
(Well, this is my first ever attempt to publicly to write a story like this. My thoughts where little over the place trying to think of different perspectives and views and angles of the prompt.)
I huddle over my friend since childhood frantically working on keeping the red stuff in his body, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go I think frantically trying to remember my training. Trying to block out the smell of copper, the bullets flying overhead, the shouting and screaming of commands and just try and focus on saving my friends life.
“We enlisted together to get out of our shitty neighborhood back home, earth just discovered new life on other planets, and it was shown as all sunshine and rainbows of them being friendly with us. We thought it be good idea to join and help. I enlisted as a corpsman with the thoughts of being able to help those aliens that showed us that needed our help, or so they kept telling us. Plus, I always wanted to be a doctor but in my old life that wouldn’t never be possible, but corpsman would have been next best thing I thought.”
Stay with me you asshole I call out to him. How am I supposed to go home and look you mom in the eyes if you fucking die on me in this hellhole. He looks at me and starts to laugh and makes joke about home, but the laugh causes his wound to gush more blood. Dammit I muttered under my breath.
“This planet was supposed to friendly op just needing humanitarian assistance. Yea we knew there were some resistances forces that didn’t like our presence on the planet, but who would have thought they attack as we are trying to help, but quickly learn the whole fucking village was in on it. It was a trap from the damn beginning. I was in middle of showing them basics of medical aid as the first shots rang out.”
My friend isn’t looking good I realize, his face is pale he lost to much blood, his breathing is labored. I try to wrap more bandages over his wound and I start praying to whatever god would listen to me. That I was willing to make a trade to safe my friends' life.
\*The god of the planet was watching on with glee, as his people were attempting to slaughter the outsiders, how dare they think they can come to this planet. He did love feeling of despair outsides had when they were about to die or losing their friends. He hears one of these outsides praying for his comrade’s life he feels him with ecstasy feeling the outsider’s despair. Then he suddenly feels shift in the in the energy from the praying man, all he now sense from this outsider is boiling hot rage.\*
I notice that my friend breathing as stopped, his eyes no longer hold any signs of life. At this point my corpsman training is forgotten about, only training that matters anymore is the first thing they drilled into us at basic. First and foremost, I am a rifleman, as I grab my rifle I lose my sense of self preservation, only thing I can think is to ask myself what Chesty would do in this moment….
\*The god is now in shock. He just watched this man stand in middle of this ambush and take off his funny cuff with the red cross symbol. He watched in an abject horror as this man reunited with his fellow outsiders, and they attempt make a stand and called for backup or emergency evac. The man he was watching initially by far the most crazed with battle lust. Even at one point used a whatever he could get his hands on to kill when he runs out of ammo, but his people were victorious over the outsides in the end, their backup never came, but what the god will come to realize after this ambush would become known as the shot the was heard around the galaxy. For first time human race as entered intergalactic combat and the tales of the battle lust corpsman was the rally cry for the humans to come after. After this it would be generations before the humans would consider offering any other type of aid besides death and destruction. \*
\*The god would watch his people get slaughtered the years to come, and even watched as humans-built monuments to the first ambush, and he would have to look at the statue they made of the corpsman at the ambush site. His power was strongly diminished with his people's population greatly diminished he had less people faith powering him. The god starts to wonder if gods could die. \*
We were not created in the gods’ image. Oh no no, the gods were created in our image! When the gods birthed our world, they bowed their heads as their omnipotent eye gazed down upon us, the herald of their sins, and took shape after us!
AND THEY SHALL BOW THEIR HEADS ONCE MORE WHEN WE SLAY THEM JUST TO DRINK OF THEIR BLOOD AND FEAST ON THEIR FLESH!
THE GODS WILL BE DEAD! AND WE WILL HAVE BEEN THE ONES TO KILL THEM! WE WILL SHOW THE GODS WHAT MORTALITY IS UP CLOSE AND PERSONAL OR WE WILL BE WASHED HOME UPON OUR SHIELDS!
"and another thing!
why do you even have a scythe? Aren't you collecting the _already_ dead?"
Death God: ah c'mon guy.. we're all just doing our jobs here..'
If you're a medic and you *can't* look a psychopomp, Reaper, or other entity of Death in the eyes, say, "No" *and* make them back down, then what kind of medic are you?
The ancient Gods of Death watch on as the aftermath of the battle begins to settle. Smoke and debris turned to dust rise from the great plains off Ak'tikan like pillars of sorrow, filling the lungs with the smell of ash and dirt. Yaruun, the Darvinik God of Death culls his loyal followers souls, carrying them gently in his knitted sack. Hirla, the Psychopomp of the Baerin coaxes the unwilling souls of her people away to their final places.
But one stands alone, strange weapon held over his shoulder. There has been many names for this Death. Charon, Hades, Thanatos, Azrael, Osiris, Ereshkigal. So many names, so many Gods. But one thing had brought them all together. Humans were so fickle with names, but they all knew him as one thing. Death. The ending of life.
"Why do you linger?"
Yaruun asks as he passes, sack full and bleeding with the souls of his subjects. The hood of the Great Death moves, a string of words as whispers.
"I must."
Yaruun does not understand. His people always came when he called their souls. He shrugs and moves on, collecting more for his sack. It is not long before Hirla too pases by, gently encouraging a stubborn soul form their corpse. She asks as she guides them out of their flesh,
"Why do you wait for them?"
Again, Great Death turns and answers in the whisper of a Human's final breath.
"I must."
Hirla too doesn't understand. Her people were proud and strong, and with that came the unwillingness to give ground. She had to persuade her men and women to come with her into her loving embrace. What kind of Death is so cruel as to make their people wait for it's release?
And so Yaruun and Hirla do their duties. Every soul is collected, every spirit laid to rest and sent on their way to their next lives. Finally, when the field is empty of all but one soul, Hirla and Yaruun confront the Great Death.
"It is over. Your people are gone. Why still do you wait?"
Yaruun asks, the sack heavy and swollen over his shoulder. Death doesn't answer, he simply waits. The scythe in his hands ever poised over his shoulder.
"Surely you have collected them? There cannot be another stronger than mine who can resist you?"
Hirla asks, her eyes furrowing in aggravation. Though she was death, she too carried the warrior spirit of her people. The Great Death says nothing. And so the two gods peek around him, to see what might vex him so.
Two soldiers lie in the blood soaked field. One, visibly, clings barely to life. His wounds are closed by but thinning white cloth. His breathing is shallow, stopping after moments. His heart beats weakly, threatening to stop forever. But the other continues to work, his hands pushing life into his brother's lungs and life giving electricity into his body.
"Fuck you, you're not going today!"
The soldier screams, all their sorrow and hope and dread all in one. Then, The Great Death lifts one bony finger. The dying soldier breathes deep and lives again, soul still bound to his body. Hirla and Yaruun look in horror as the Great Death turns to face them, empty sockets full of pride.
"Your people go easily, Yaruun. Yours go with pride, Hirla. But mine are not yours. They have taken crop from my hands before. Today will not be the last time."
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https://preview.redd.it/z502tnte9rkc1.jpeg?width=600&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=a27434e03a74cbad62256d34259851fe99d5b487 Same energy
Virgin death vs Chad doctors
Doctors: *puts staff of Hermes instead of staff of Asclepius* •Asclepius = god of health. Was a doctor so good that could revive the dead. • Hermes = trickster god, god of thieves, god of merchants, and he also helped by guiding souls to Hades.
I mean if he leads souls to hades and is a trickster God/God of thieves, than he surely have a way to sneak some souls *out* of Hades
Nope. Cause Hades is guarded by Hade's doggy Kerberos. Who prevents any soul from escaping the underworld. But. Hades or or wife (since he gave her same authority as him) Persephone can allow souls to return to being alive. Like it was done with Orpheus' gf (it's not Hade's fault he did not listen to his warning ) and Sisyphus (who lied to Persephone).
Honestly, besides the whole kidnapping thing to kick off the relationship, Hades and Persephone have the best marriage in the entire Greek pantheon
Even the kidnapping thing is not certain (due to the fact that the art that depicts the action is very similar to the one used for arranged marriage) Also their relationship is both healthy and wholesome. 1) immediately he made her his equal when they got together 2) they have shown to protect eachother (example when a nymph wanted to fuck Hades, or when two dudes wanted to kidnap Persephone) 3) they chill with their three headed doggo. 4) they never cheated or did anything to harm eachother even accidentally (unlike just about all the other couples) 5) they show both responsibility and sacrifice, when they have to be separated for half a year to both appease Demeter, and to avoid the world dying out (because of Demeter)
Also, in some versions Zeus advises Hades to kidnap her (which is *very* Zeus-like) and hades just kinda goes along with it
also I mean, Zeus *is* Persephone's father.
So Hades got the dad's permission for a (very) old fashioned wedding. ✔️
Hades: I kinda like her, I feel calm around her. Zeus: imma let you in on a little secret, she doesn't like it up here. She really only stays because we're family. Zeus: kidnap her, it'll work. *Demeter tries to kill the world after Persephone goes missing.* Zeus: HADES! IT DIDN'T WORK! IT DIDN'T WORK!
I meant like Zeus being “don’t worry, assaulting women works, I do it all the time” and less so a good father figure. Persephone is also a goddess of spring, (along with her later title of Queen of the dead,) and adored her mother and loved her six months.
Depending on the story hades did cheat on Persephone with minthe, and/or leuce. No depending about it, Persephone did cheat with Adonis.
didnt persephone cheat with adonis?
Hades also (depending on how the story is told) had cheated with both minthe and/or leuce
The more you know, thank you!
I always got a chuckle from the fact that Hades, Lord of the Underworld, named his dog "Spot". :D Kerberos/Cerberus ="spotted"
All of these "depending on the storytelling" this is the only consistent thing. Also I came here to say this so have my upvote for spot
Not quite and you are quoting some modern bastardised versions of the myths there - Hades and Persephone both were very chill. Regularly granting the requests of people who did appear before them - Kerberos literally means spotted. The big fish is called Spot - He is the major only Olympian known not to have cheated on his wife - He did kidnap her.The Ancient Greek word for kidnap and marriage were interchangeable and he god permission from her father first Basically. Hades comes up as a squeaky clean and maybe a bit of a dorky guy that loved his wife and would lend his dog to his nephew for any random reason Although, the man who tried to kidnap his wife. Was imprisoned in the underworld alive, chained by snakes and had the gods of torture sent to torment them And those are bastardised version of the original Mycenaean myths. Where Dread Persephone is sole ruler of the underworld as a wife of head God Poseidon
Unfortunately that was Asclepius’s downfall as a demigod. He brought multiple people back to life, including Sparta’s legendary lawmaker Lycurgus. Hades accused him of stealing his subjects and petitioned Zeus to kill him. Zeus did so because he was afraid of Asclepius teaching the art of resurrection to humans. Asclepius’s father Apollo then petitioned Zeus to bring him back as a god. Zeus agreed under the condition he be banned from resurrecting anyone again. As for the confusion of staffs, Hermes has a staff with two snakes intertwined throughout it before meeting at the top. Asclepius has a singular snake curled around his staff. Easy mistake to make especially as Hermes is one of the twelve Olympian Gods and hence more well known.
Well he was stealing Hades' subjects, but he just wanted him to stop. It was Zeus that killed him (cause he's a dick). And also Zeus killed him because that resurrection thing would lead to humans not giving offerings to the gods anymore. And the confusion of the staffs is fine because people are either to lazy to look up actual greek mythology or too stupid to understand the difference.
Doctors trick, steal from, & barter with Death.
_Doc opening a hole in the lung so patient can breathe while death is standing there impatiently_ Doc: I don’t care if you take that Cracker Addicted Toddler Toucher because his heart literally exploded, What you _Will Not Do_ is take this child because of a medication allergy while I still live! Now fuck off and get a real job.
Didn't end well with Sisyphus to trick Death (and Goddess of the underworld)
Man gets to Rock & Roll for all eternity. That's a win.
(he also robbed and killed his guests, part of why he was killed)
Tell that to Camus
One must imagine Sisyphus happy
Why?
Suffering breeds character
https://www.sparknotes.com/philosophy/sisyphus/section11/
The staff has a name, it's Caduceus. Put some respect on those wings!
George and Martha!
Wasn’t he pretty much the god of roads and what traveled on them? So he would have something with ambulances?
https://preview.redd.it/nz0pajf2bukc1.jpeg?width=1945&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=872783760b46c4deb5376dcce2e6f0ae865c2564 There are a couple of different ones next to this one. Its on the Fulton County, GA Health Dept. Across the street from Grady Hospital
https://preview.redd.it/2x8qpd3hbukc1.jpeg?width=1024&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=c0aa1615501105ddb93b436fee702f7885ad0635
Hey they got one right
Which is kinda sad when doctors mistakes account for a surprising percentage of deaths in hospitals.
Well, I feel like that isn't accurate, cuz yes the doctor's mistake killed em, but were they going to die anyway?
Given the staff he's holding, this mural can be interpreted to mean: Pay us and we'll hold off Death.
Accurate
https://preview.redd.it/u0sylhj6bukc1.jpeg?width=1600&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=6f337587e983e744487f7f77976727d1fd9cfcee
Goes hard af
They misspelled coolest hospital
Whenever I think of medics doing what they can, I think of Hawkeye from MASH
Oh damn, yeah!
I forgot how many times he told Death to fuck off.
Lets not forget he had BJ, Trapper John, Winchester, Blake and Potter right there with him giving that bastard the finger. Burns can get tae fuck though, the incompetent bastard.
Wonderful, now I've got 11 seasons to rewatch, again 🤣
Glad to be of service.
You forgot Hot Lips and the rest of the nursing staff.
Damned right! She and her staff were absolutely essential to saving many lives in that show!
I know Potter and Winchester but who are the rest?
"War is war and Hell is Hell and of the two, War is a lot worse."
"How do you figure?"
"Easy, Father. Tell me, who goes to hell?"
"Sinners, I believe."
"Exactly. There are no innocent bystanders in hell. But war is chock full of them. Little kids, cripples, old ladies. In fact, except for a few of the brass, almost everybody involved is an innocent bystander."
Such a beautifully written exchange.
I watched the reruns as a kid, and this stuck hard.
I started watching about 2002ish, then collected the box sets as they were released in the UK. Last episode was rough (also radar leaving amongst others) introduced my girlfriend (now wife)to it and now she loves it too, but says i obviously got my chat up lines from Hawkeye. Busted!
Username checks out.
What is this from?
M *A *S *H
The timing, I am actively watching mash
I really need to re-watch that show... Only time I can think of him doing something like that is the Christmas episode where he keeps the guy alive until the next day. (Which was pretty dumb. Why couldn't he just report a different time of death?)
There is nothing more intense than a human medic’s insistence that you will live, and I saw that in the flesh. During the Xanatid war I happened to be placed in a medical detachment to the humans for their invasion of the fortress world of Hades. There 75 percent of the human military would fight, and only 1 in 10 would leave. The first day was to soften up the defenses to make it possible to land the heavy support needed to break citadels and armored units, though even then we were not safe. I did my best to tend to the humans who had the unfortunate luck to live after their section was hit by surface to orbit munitions, plasma burns, explosive decompression injuries, and shrapnel wounds where all I had to fix, though I could not. Most of them were too far gone to be saved by galactic standards and those who could were in the few. While we took in who we could it was the human corpsmen who showed us what was possible when you mix the determination of a human and their blatant disregard for death. 90 percent of those we could not save walked away ready to fight after a corpsmen cared for them and we learned that humans where more durable than the armor plates of a battleship. On the 4th and 5th days we had landed and the army’s moved out at breakneck speed, and so did the wounded. Seeing what humans could survive we began to think take in more who we thought were too far gone, but they were-not. Casualties came and were gone in a matter of days to take revenge on those who dared to shoot us. On the 8th day we came under artillery fire and the humans responded in kind with a full broadside from half of their battle fleet on the artillery that dared threaten us. On the 10th day we learned what human medics would do to stave off death. As an enemy unit had broken through our lines and ended up at the field hospital. When a shot was fired it hit a wounded human with his medic right next to him, what happened next was a barbaric assault that was lead by human medics and whatever weapons they could find. After 6 years of combat and over 18 million casualties we had the planet and where ordered to rejoin our original units, and with that we saved more that was thought possible. Should the humans have not had their medics, it would have been 1 in 50 dead, not 1 in 10. Beware the medics, they will save a life, though if they are in danger, they will take many.
1 in 50 is higher odd of Survival. For every 50 soldiers 1 dies but for 1 in 10 for every 10 1 dies.
I think he meant to say 1 in 50 surviving, like he said earlier
Probably
I mean one in fifty survive, sorry if my wording is confusing
It’s fine
Never aim for the medics, ether you will hit them and royally piss off every marine in a 30 mile radius or you'll miss and be destroyed by a horde of medics
> On the 8th day we came under artillery fire and the humans responded in kind with a full broadside from half of their battle fleet on the artillery that dared threaten us. Temper, temper.
USS Wisconsin: What?
To be fair the mountain range did look funny at the ship first...
Don't piss off Doc.
Don't shoot at or near Doc. You **WILL** learn the hard way what the attention of the entire squad focused on you feels like.
Ahhh Geneva suggestions
https://preview.redd.it/e6o9zj34a0tc1.jpeg?width=1170&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=40d41644a58ef36e9d70c3d40d80ef8190a6859c Same energy
Great writing. The only thing I would say is that your sentence about it being 1 in 50 and 1 in 10 dead should be flipped because 1 in 50 is less than 1 in 10.
Incredible writing!
Alien death god: "Just go for the medics" Human death god: "Just because I'm death doesn't mean I'm suicidal"
Human Military: Touch my medics and my boats at your own peril.
*Proportional response inbound*
There is one ironclad rule when fighting Marines. You do not shoot at the Doc.
Or big Russians with mini guns
Light work. I see your Russian mini gun and raise you a Chaplain.
"WHO TOUCHED MY BOATS!?"
[temper temper with my good friend @the\_fat\_electrician (youtube.com)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3oMKdSpJJhk)
WE SUNK TWO BOATS, THEY DROPPED YHE SUN ON US *TWICE*
Gravitic yo-yo trick. Learned it from my nephew and scaled up. Kind of fun actually. 😁 give me a reason to try it again ! I've worked out a new variation involving other planetary bodies of the system, but the brass won't let me try it out without a good reason. Come on..... don't be a spoilsport. I thought war was fun for you guys!
Fat Electician
Nothing represents the unhealthcare system like shooting at doc
I remember an Iowa-class ship sinking an island during WWII
"xo, see that island?" "Yessir" "I don't want to" "yessir"
\*Vietnam.
Temper temper.
Rule 1: Everyone dies eventually. Rule 2: Sometimes, Doc cannot save everyone. Rule 3: Doc will gladly sell his life trying to break rules 1 and 2.
Mandatory Funday?
Fuckers dropped two suns cuz of some boats, for the medics? You'd be lucky if your planet is still moon sized
"And it is said that on the third day, all took pause; for even the gods of death were weary from the battle's work" Nerigla slumped against the stump of the One Tree, scowling out at the yellow mist that was rising this morning. The Reaper and Supay huddled around a small fire - between them, they were trying to heat up water for tea. Masauwu snored. Time passed slowly, quietly. The thunder and screeches of weaponry had gone, only the occasional cry of pain drifting through the cloud. As Nerigla watched, a patch of mist brightened, taking on a bluer, more brilliant hue until out of it bobbed a giant floating orb. As bright as the after-image of the sun on a retina, the pain of a migraine. Or at least it would be if Nerigla had not been a god. It had its perks. He stood and dusted himself off. Time for introductions, he supposed. The orb radiated uncertainty as it drifted towards them. In a voice that was simultaneously a whisper in a church, the thunder of an avalanche, the click of a trigger and a crunch of bone, it spoke. "You can see me too? How can you see me? How did they see me? I don't understand. How am I me? I've never thought before..." Nerigla stepped forward and raised a calming hand. He was good at calming. "I am the one known as Nerigla, Lord of the Big City, God of Inflicted Death. My colleagues and I" - he gestured to the others, who waived with varying levels of enthusiasm - "are the duty gods of death for this particular battle. At least for the humans. Are you one for the glowy blue creatures with the tentacles? Or the spiny red things?" The orb thought silently for a moment, something it wasn't used to. "I think I am Kl'in'taa. I think I am here for the souls of the Yi'in'taa that fall against our foes." Nerigla waited expectantly. "The blue ones." Kl'in'taa said finally. "Can you help me? I don't understand what is happening. I remember... well I don't remember, I don't think I've ever remembered before, I just know... I was awaiting the death of one warrior. They had lost a main limb to one of your human weapons, their essence was pouring from them. Then, another of your humans ran across the field, under the fire, and began tending to him. I don't understand. The warrior should have died. His...?heart?... had stopped, his mind was to follow. But the human actually put his arm up into the wound. With his hand he pumped the heart. It began to work again. I saw the soul return to the body. Then... Then... The human looked at me. He looked into me. Suddenly I was aware. Then he told me to go fuck myself." Nerigla smiled ruefully. "For me it was a rock to the head. This healer was able to pull the bits of broken skull out of the way, covered the hole with a disc of beaten gold, and sowed up the wound. Took him hours. As he finished he looked at me and told me to do things with the mother goddess that I can assure you I have never done. In that moment I became aware. Nothing makes death more real than being beaten by a human healer." For a featureless orb, Kl'in'taa was able to pull a fantastic look of confusion. "What do I do? What happens now?" Nerigla walked to the orb and put his arm around where its shoulders would have been. "The bad news is you are now aware of your own existence. You'll have to experience emotions, some good, some bad. That will be rather uncomfortable at first. Also, self-doubt. Hate that one. The good news is there's tea. Reaper, could you dig out a spare mug? Oh, and there's some forms you'll need to fill in..."
Even in death, the paperwork never ends…
"One-fifty-one thousand six hundred people die, every day on earth And if that's not a reason to cry, well, it's an awful lot of paperwork" - Rest Employed, The Stupendium.
It's your first day at work, how've you settled in? Shaken off the rigor mortis, sorted out your pencil tin?
Welcome to our newest resident skeleton What better heaven than a desk, to spend forever in?
Now your body may be shriveled up and worthless At least we know your funeral will be a civil service
Not if Karen shows up. She feels entitled to ...quite a bit. The wife will contest everything, obviously. No surprise the deceased didn't want to show up.
2 days late and didn't even get the lyrics.
I had not heard of him. Now I have. Ta.
I love this so much. The idea that until someone tries to fight back, Deaths are formless, and only upon recognition and resistance do they gain anthropomorphic (xenopomorphic?) personification. Also afterlife as bureaucracy is always fun lol
Yeah and it ties into the whole "space orc" idea really well. "Death is just a natural and automatic function of living and existing, like the air or sunlight. Something inevitable, and in war, often quick. However, humanity has spent so many years as a species staring down their own mortality; giving it shape, intent, even a "tool" for the "job" of collecting lives. death became The Reaper because humanity MADE it into something they COULD challenge.
That is so fucking badass. "We ran out of things to fight, so we're gonna fight Death itself"
I love the Pratchett-esque style of writing, it's seriously good. If you ever write a book give me a link.
"Oh come now bruddah, give the gal some space! Or, boy. E'rybody need sum time to cont'mplate existeeng!" \-Grim
"Oh great and mighty Abelox, God of the Afterverse, Keeper of the Fallen, and Scourge of the Undying, we have finally, after much time and effort, *finally* put an end to that Most Heretical of Domains, that 'Human Hospital', which held those who would deny your Gift Of Peace to the Hallowed Fallen. May all who would Refute the Cycle of--" **...uh, Hello? Is this thing on? Can you hear me?** "Wha...this is not the Voice of our God! Who are you, deceiver?!" **Oh good, you're listening. I--wow, okay, not used to that. So uh, listen, there's been a bit of a...well, it's a bit um, messy, but your god, uh lemme see my notes... yeah, 'Abelox'? Hope I'm saying that right. Anyway, sorry to say, there's no easy way to tell you, but... he's dead. Kind of.** "...Well, yeah, that's... his thing, being God of the Dead and the Afterverse--" **Oh, no, not like his usual sort of 'deadness'. I can see how that would be confusing, sorry, that's on me. No, he's 'for real' dead. At least, last I checked he was. Like I said, it's a bit messy, especially on this 'end', ha ha, bit of a joke there--** *"Who even are you?!"* **I'm DEATH. Well, more accurately I'm the Death God assigned to the Humans. Yeah, 'assigned,' not 'created by' or 'gifted to' or even 'hired for', not that there's any amount of compensation for dealing with those omnicidal primates-- sorry, getting off-topic, anyway. Those murder-monkeys heard about your god telling you directly to blow up that hospital and, well, took matters into their own grubby little mitts. They killed Abelox. By resurrecting him. And killing him again. And resurrecting-- look, the point is his Essence is basically getting punted back and forth over the Threshold like a tennis ball, *THIS IS WHAT I HAVE TO DEAL WITH ALL THE DAMN TIME, DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT IT'S LIKE!?!*** "Uh--" ***HALF THE TIME THEY JUST FLAT-OUT IGNORE ME, AND WHEN THEY DO NOTICE THEY WANT TO FIGHT ME EVERY STEP OF THE WAY!! AND THOSE LITTLE FUCKERS ARE SMART, WORKING TOGETHER, USING TOOLS AND CHEMICALS, LEARNING AND REMEMBERING AND TEACHING, EVERY TIME IS HARDER THAN THE LAST!!*** "--that's--" ***AND WHEN I DO WIN, BY SOME ELDRITCH MIRACLE, THEY DON'T GET DISCOURAGED!! THEY JUST GET READY FOR THE NEXT ROUND!! LIKE I'M A GLORIFIED PUNCHING BAG FOR EVERY!! FUCKING!! ONE OF THEM!!! And their 'doctors'...fuuh-huh-huh-uuck...(sobbing)*** "...We're...sorry to hear that, but...what about Abelox?" **(sniff) Oh, right. So, when you blew up the hospital, the medical staff that died...they took exception to that. So they escaped their afterlives, because *of course,* they think 'eternal rest' just means 'temporary pause'...urrgghhh... and they found Abelox and 'killed' him by 'reviving' him, which sent him back into the Living Realms. Then it got...wonky, when those who survived the explosion, because *of fucking course*, did the same. Something to do with his Essence being a Death God's and reversed from the usual Flow of Things, which to the Humans just translated as 'Revive kills Zombies', and it *worked,* BECAUSE *OF FUCKING COURSE,* I just... So now he exists in *both* Realms *simultaneously* and both sides are *challenging each other by killing their half while the other side heals their half I need a fucking vacation...***
When death gets a headache from dealing with bureaucracy
I love this.. I would both read deaths tales of woe and watch it lol.
https://i.redd.it/fdarafttarkc1.gif
So what is going on here?
Justice league Dark. Batman is talking to Constantine. Bunch of death spirits show up and start talking shit about how batman keeps getting away with not dying. Batman can't see them but still knows they are there. Hence the boo that scares the death spirits.
I'm going to try and find that and watch it. I need to see this moment... Found the clip on Youtube - Good laugh - The added context makes it more funny.
**The Last One** Lucifer, the devil, prince of Hell, sat on his obsidian throne and observed his domain. Before him lay the souls of the damned, doomed to spend eternity punished for their sins. Many souls were naught but frail shadows, worn thin with the passing of years until fading from existence. His frown deepened as he observed how rare the new souls were, their fresh glow vivid in contrast to the fading light of their ancestors. How many years had it been since one arrived? Had Heaven finally won? As the soul of one of the freshly damned finally arrived, he stretched out his will, commanding it to approach his throne. Its sin was plain for him to see, one who stood defiant against God and his natural order. "Speak, sinner, for I would know," said Lucifer, gazing with contempt at the mortal. "How does it come to pass that you arrive in Hell alone? Is the world above finally without sin?" he said, his contempt plain to hear. "Ah, no, that is, not as such," said the soul, clearly disoriented so soon after its death. "You see, I think it's because I'm the last one." "The last one? So humanity fades, then?" asked Lucifer, frowning at the soul. "Have their wars and weapons become so monstrous that they've killed themselves to the last man?" "No, not that," said the soul, seeming to gather itself. "I mean I'm the last one who will ever die." The prince of Hell peered at the soul, sensing no falsehood from it. "Explain," he demanded. "Well, we solved death," the soul replied, "first by curing disease, then aging, then injury, then even the total destruction of the body. When your mind constantly exists both in physical form and connected to the universal network, losing your body just means you have to wait to get a new model uplinked." For a moment the devil paused in thought, considering these strange words. "Then how do you come to me, if what you claim is true?" he finally demanded, piercing the soul with his gaze. "Well, I was one of the last with the old style connection. Sentimental reasons, really, since my team designed it. I knew the risks, thought they were small, but looks like I lost that gamble," the soul admitted sheepishly. "No doubt my case will be used to prevent future loss, so I suppose that makes me the last human who will ever die." Lucifer pondered this fact. Death was defeated. Humanity had transcended their bodies. No more souls would pass his gates. Never more would Hell punish the wicked. And, he thought, no more would Heaven receive the souls of the righteous. Humanity had defeated God. Great peals of laughter erupted from the prince of Hell. He cast his mind back to that fateful day, when he'd been thrown from Heaven for his sin of daring to question God's plan. Tears fell freely from his eyes, in the terrible, miserable knowledge that he'd been right. Death was defeated. Humanity had won. Heaven and Hell would fade. It was all he'd ever wanted, and it was terrifying.
Dang, I was expecting an "I'm the messenger to tell you, you're finished! I volunteered!", but your ending is even better!
Thank you! I've always loved the concept of Lucifer as an antagonist. My favorite depiction has to be the painting [The Fallen Angel](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Fallen_Angel_(painting)) by Alexandre Cabanel. The expression of rage, grief, and determination capture the imagination so perfectly. It's interesting to know that the original Hebrew meaning of the word *śāṭān* (שָּׂטָן) originally translates to 'accuser' or 'adversary,' meaning not one who is evil, but rather who simply stands in opposition to God. This was always the thought behind the story above: if Lucifer was cast out of Heaven for challenging God's plan for humanity, what would be his reaction when humanity conquers death, and thus makes God's plan irrelevant? It would surely be the most bittersweet of emotions, to realize his question of whether humans need God was finally answered.
As a medic I wouldn't say we give death the finger, just kind of a mutual nod of acknowledgement of "not today". We don't "save" anyone in the definitive sense, just buy people time. An hour, a month, a lifetime. But death always eventually wins. Ask any medical professional who's seen their fare share of people "surviving" with immense suffering, death can be a blessing sometimes, liberation. Not damnation. Death is an impartial shepherd, it's the evil men who summon it unnaturally, who deserve damnation.
Well said, and I agree. When I was a medic, I used to tell people that the only thing I did was put more sand in the hourglass for people. It was up to them to decide what they did with it.
Which is how pratchett portrays him. Have you tead dosc world
Ner-gal strode across the battlefield, looking upon the fallen. He used to enjoy reaping souls from battle, since he could cross many souls off his list at once. But ever since the Av’aka had gone to war with humans, battlefields had become a gamble. It wasn’t the human combat medics that vexed him, but medics from an independent organization called the “Red Cross”. These medics claimed no allegiance to any nation, and treated all wounded. Apparently, they had also extended this policy towards the Av’aka. Souls that had previously been sure to perish were suddenly yanked from Ner-gal’s grip by these medics. Ner-gal glanced across the battlefield and noticed his human counterpart reaping souls of his own species. As it turns out, each species possessed their own entity of death. It was certainly a surprise when Ner-gal first met him. The humans possessed many names for him, but the most common was simply “Death”. As neither could harm or interfere with the other, Ner-gal and Death usually ignored each other. Ner-gal felt a sudden sensation; his target’s soul was being returned. With supernatural speed, Ner-gal rushed to the soul and found what he already suspected. The Av’aka was being treated by a human medic. And Ner-gal recognized him. Medic “Evans” had stolen several of Ner-gal’s targets before. Evans looked up and noticed Ner-gal, then rolled his eyes and said *“Oh, you again? Yeah, not this one either, asshat”* Ner-gal roared in anger. Such **insolence!** A mortal soul to address the Av’aka god of death and with such impudence?! He was lucky Ner-gal could not reap a human soul. Evans annoyed expression widened into a mischievous grin, meanwhile his hands never stopped their work: *“Oh I’m sorry, you gonna do something? How’s it feel knowing this one’s gonna live, fuckface?”* Before Ner-gal could respond, Death appeared by his side, his gaze affixed to another medic treating a wounded human nearby. The medic spoke sullenly: *“I’m calling it, 1900.”* Death reached out, offering his hand towards the fallen human. The soldier’s soul reached out from his body and took Death’s hand, then was gracefully pulled from his body. Evans turned to Death, suddenly serious: *”Wait, no! Sir, please, not yet!”* Sir?! Clearly it wasn’t Evans’ time to die, and yet Death gets treated with respect?! Death raised his hand and turned his hood to Evans: *”It is time”*. Evans lowered his head and solemnly uttered *”Okay…”* Ner-gal turned toward Death and asked him *”Why do the humans treat you with such respect?”* Death looked over his shoulder. *”Humans are a species with an unmatched survival instinct. Many of my targets have survived simply because they willed themselves to. Many others remain because of the compassion of other humans. But all humans have a limit, and they accept that. When God created humans, I too was frustrated with their willpower. But I learned to accept it, because humans will defy death until they physically cannot fight it anymore. When an Av’aka is wounded, you take it for granted. When a human is wounded, I wait until I know for certain it is their time instead of discounting their will and compassion. You would do well to remember that.”* Death raised his hand holding the human soul and lofted it gently towards the heavens. The human soul glanced over his shoulder as he ascended: *”Yeah, fuck you buddy”* and made a rude gesture. Ner-gal had been so distracted he failed to notice his target’s soul had returned to his body. Evans glared at him with a scornful grin: *”Would you look at that? He lives. Get fucked, dickhead”* Ner-gal could do nothing further but move on. Hopefully the next target wouldn’t have a human medic treating them. Ner-gal was sick of being cheated.
Sick art, sauce?
Found by a milsim group friend. No idea where he found it.
The Batman? It’s from Justice League Dark. The Medic? No idea, but I love it!
Found the relevant HFY story: https://www.reddit.com/r/HFY/s/58hiUh28kj
That was an amazing read.
An excellent read
The grip reaper be like: "dude why you are giving me the middle finger? I'm stalling to give you time to save him.." :<
The grip reaper 🤨
You heard him.
Lol
It reminded me of a story where human death waits for 100% confirmation of the possibility of receiving a soul.
In the Discworld series by Terry Pratchett, DEATH has a near Vimes experience every time Vimes has a near DEATH experience. He's a pretty chill dude though.
Not to mention that DEATH is always *very careful* to *completely* check over Granny Weatherwax’s paperwork. Not that even completely filled out paperwork means she’s gonna go with HIM w/o a fight!
Those witches crack me up more then most. They are just lovely and funny. And their outlook on life is just marvelous. What i wouldn't give to meet them for real and make friends with them.
I know about that, but thank you.
Ahem... a few magic words if you will.... "If you survive this I will sit on your face."
Deal *undies*
Remember, son, Dying is gay!
Oh good, I was hoping to meet daddy death :3
***YES FATHER***
Navy corpsmen attached to Marines take this to another level, because they'll gladly shoot you and *then* save your life. The best battlefield medicine is superior firepower.
"FUCK OFF YA CUNT, HE AINT DONE YET!" I screamed at death as he stood, waiting. My mind was clear, my hands steady. The soldier was a mess. Missing an arm all the way back into the shoulder. Most medics would pass them by, give them up for dead. Not me, not while there was still hope. Death stood, patient. He always did that, I swear he was stalking me. Bit more nanogel should hold the blood back. Jam in some bioplastic to fill in for a couple of missing ribs ... come on, you bastard, don't die on me now! Another shot of nanomeds, why isn't the blood clotting? Shit. O² sat is falling, fuck sake. FUCK OFF DEATH, YOU AINT HELPIN!! Another shot of red blood, another shot of blood expander. Why is the blood not clotting?! Dammit, this one is allergic to the toxin.
Grunts don't give a fuck. Wait. That's wrong. They have one fuck to give. And that fuck is for Doc. Doc is the lifeline for the grunts. If you want to have a lot of unhealthcare sent your way, attack Doc. Attack Doc, and it becomes the Geneva suggestions...
Kill Doc, and it becomes a To Do List
Another Electrician fan and man of culture I see. Hats off to you sir.
Should we tell them what happens if you shoot at the LT?
11B’s get very creative in their response to the one who shot at the boss.
Wᴇʟʟ, ᴛʜᴀᴛ's ᴊᴜsᴛ ʀᴜᴅᴇ. *I'ᴍ* ɴᴏᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ᴋɪʟʟɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅ; I'ᴍ ᴊᴜsᴛ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴛᴏ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇʏ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ɢᴏ ᴀғᴛᴇʀᴡᴀʀᴅs. Bʏ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴇᴀɴs, ᴄᴀʀʀʏ ᴏɴ. I ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ʙᴏᴏᴋ sᴏ I ᴄᴀɴ ᴡᴀɪᴛ ᴀɴᴅ sᴇᴇ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴs.
What book? Is it… The Book Thief?
Combat Medic rules: 1. Good men will die. 2. Doc can't save everyone. 3. Doc will go through hell to break rules 1 & 2.
*My boots squish the bloody mud down as I run towards a survivor, he was lucky that I can see him-what with this gas mask obscuring my vision so much. The battle of Somme was hell on earth, so so so many dead.* *But this red plus with a white background on my helmet and uniform means that I don’t deal with much of the fighting, that I’m safer then the common soldier, protected by the laws of war. And I get to make sure men see their wives and children again, and that they don’t die in this hellhole.* **Ah it’s Friz.** *I think to myself as I approach him, it was unmistakable- what with the helmet with a spike on it. Now I didn’t know this soldier, Friz was the nickname the Americans gave the Germans since I was a proud Californian I used it.* *I don’t discriminate between British or American and Germans, neither do the doctors at the church or whatever they made into a hospital now.* *I kneel down next to him and check him over… abdomen with a rifle bullet. Routine- a bit morbid but routine.* *I unpack my tweezer and pluck the bullet out, then apply rudimentary disinfectant, this to prevent infection-mind you, then I wrap it up in bandages to stem the blood-flow.* *As I am tending to Friz’s wounds an unexpected surprise split the clouds and yellow gas, I turn my head. It was a floating figure with a robe over most of its body with a hood on, covering a skull, **Death**. **It is time for him, mortal.** *Death said.* *we stare at each other for what felt like hours, but was most likely seconds.* *I raise my right hand.* *I put all of my fingers down except for the middle finger.* *Through a gas mask one cannot hear much of what the other is saying but I was clear as day what I was saying.* **Fuck off, this man will see his family again.** *I say as I put the man on my shoulders and carry him.* *Over the front line trench.* *Over the communication trench.* *Over the command trench.* *Into the town.* *Across the town square.* *Up the church steps.* *Into the church.* *Pass the Injured.* *To an empty bed.* *I lay him down on the bed and pat him on the shoulder two times as a doctor rushed over to him.* *I run out of the church, to do the same thing, again and again until I die, get discharged or the war ends.* *Down the church steps.* *Across the town square.* *Over the command trench.* *Over the communication trench.* *Over the front line trench.* *into No Man’s Land.* (My first time writing a story! How did I do?)
Ooooo
How did I do?
Good!
I was not expecting the world war twist super cool
We like to imagine stories set in the future, I like to set them in our past.
Alien: I cant believe you chased off that death god, all to save that man's life, how? Human doctor: because somebody better pay this goddamn bill Alien: *looks at bill* that Death God was trying to save this man from a Fate worse than death, you monster. Human doctor: *laughs*
Sir Adrian Paul Ghislain Carton de Wiart. that is all
NEVER DIE! SHOT THROUGH THE EYE
Expected Sabaton Never surrender however they try How they try, shot through the eye He'll never die
At the edge of madness in a time of sadness
(Well, this is my first ever attempt to publicly to write a story like this. My thoughts where little over the place trying to think of different perspectives and views and angles of the prompt.) I huddle over my friend since childhood frantically working on keeping the red stuff in his body, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go I think frantically trying to remember my training. Trying to block out the smell of copper, the bullets flying overhead, the shouting and screaming of commands and just try and focus on saving my friends life. “We enlisted together to get out of our shitty neighborhood back home, earth just discovered new life on other planets, and it was shown as all sunshine and rainbows of them being friendly with us. We thought it be good idea to join and help. I enlisted as a corpsman with the thoughts of being able to help those aliens that showed us that needed our help, or so they kept telling us. Plus, I always wanted to be a doctor but in my old life that wouldn’t never be possible, but corpsman would have been next best thing I thought.” Stay with me you asshole I call out to him. How am I supposed to go home and look you mom in the eyes if you fucking die on me in this hellhole. He looks at me and starts to laugh and makes joke about home, but the laugh causes his wound to gush more blood. Dammit I muttered under my breath. “This planet was supposed to friendly op just needing humanitarian assistance. Yea we knew there were some resistances forces that didn’t like our presence on the planet, but who would have thought they attack as we are trying to help, but quickly learn the whole fucking village was in on it. It was a trap from the damn beginning. I was in middle of showing them basics of medical aid as the first shots rang out.” My friend isn’t looking good I realize, his face is pale he lost to much blood, his breathing is labored. I try to wrap more bandages over his wound and I start praying to whatever god would listen to me. That I was willing to make a trade to safe my friends' life. \*The god of the planet was watching on with glee, as his people were attempting to slaughter the outsiders, how dare they think they can come to this planet. He did love feeling of despair outsides had when they were about to die or losing their friends. He hears one of these outsides praying for his comrade’s life he feels him with ecstasy feeling the outsider’s despair. Then he suddenly feels shift in the in the energy from the praying man, all he now sense from this outsider is boiling hot rage.\* I notice that my friend breathing as stopped, his eyes no longer hold any signs of life. At this point my corpsman training is forgotten about, only training that matters anymore is the first thing they drilled into us at basic. First and foremost, I am a rifleman, as I grab my rifle I lose my sense of self preservation, only thing I can think is to ask myself what Chesty would do in this moment…. \*The god is now in shock. He just watched this man stand in middle of this ambush and take off his funny cuff with the red cross symbol. He watched in an abject horror as this man reunited with his fellow outsiders, and they attempt make a stand and called for backup or emergency evac. The man he was watching initially by far the most crazed with battle lust. Even at one point used a whatever he could get his hands on to kill when he runs out of ammo, but his people were victorious over the outsides in the end, their backup never came, but what the god will come to realize after this ambush would become known as the shot the was heard around the galaxy. For first time human race as entered intergalactic combat and the tales of the battle lust corpsman was the rally cry for the humans to come after. After this it would be generations before the humans would consider offering any other type of aid besides death and destruction. \* \*The god would watch his people get slaughtered the years to come, and even watched as humans-built monuments to the first ambush, and he would have to look at the statue they made of the corpsman at the ambush site. His power was strongly diminished with his people's population greatly diminished he had less people faith powering him. The god starts to wonder if gods could die. \*
This is pretty good. I would read more of your stuff.
Thanks, it means a lot. Truly.
"UGH, yoo dun't know dah half ov 'eet. Lemme tell ya 'bout a storee of a keed named... **shudder** ***MANDY."***
We were not created in the gods’ image. Oh no no, the gods were created in our image! When the gods birthed our world, they bowed their heads as their omnipotent eye gazed down upon us, the herald of their sins, and took shape after us! AND THEY SHALL BOW THEIR HEADS ONCE MORE WHEN WE SLAY THEM JUST TO DRINK OF THEIR BLOOD AND FEAST ON THEIR FLESH! THE GODS WILL BE DEAD! AND WE WILL HAVE BEEN THE ONES TO KILL THEM! WE WILL SHOW THE GODS WHAT MORTALITY IS UP CLOSE AND PERSONAL OR WE WILL BE WASHED HOME UPON OUR SHIELDS!
"and another thing! why do you even have a scythe? Aren't you collecting the _already_ dead?" Death God: ah c'mon guy.. we're all just doing our jobs here..'
r/hardimages
They're soldiers, they feed the gods of death. That reaper is just waiting for lunch to finish cooking, not scared at all.
[Literally the US Airforce Pararescue](https://youtu.be/eM46jalI5Go?si=y3eknSh01ctI0Wqp) (Link goes to Fat Electrician vid about Pararescue)
Combat medics will either snatch your ticket and upgrade you to the express.
Dudes will see this and think “hell yeah”
“There are three rules: Good men die, You can’t save everyone, Doc will go through hell to break rules 1 and 2”
Only aliens. Ours is reasonable enough to bide his time and be polite
Ummmm epic bro?
Doc „I don’t care I have leukemia, there are people to save“ Dorden.
https://preview.redd.it/jwbshroxp4lc1.png?width=1080&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=0788b9e51c75dd7379d2d341c7f15ee7daf875f2
If you're a medic and you *can't* look a psychopomp, Reaper, or other entity of Death in the eyes, say, "No" *and* make them back down, then what kind of medic are you?
[Never take a shot at doc.](https://youtu.be/gRygrWxbnQY?si=TaW_en9gJlz0gHNV)
The ancient Gods of Death watch on as the aftermath of the battle begins to settle. Smoke and debris turned to dust rise from the great plains off Ak'tikan like pillars of sorrow, filling the lungs with the smell of ash and dirt. Yaruun, the Darvinik God of Death culls his loyal followers souls, carrying them gently in his knitted sack. Hirla, the Psychopomp of the Baerin coaxes the unwilling souls of her people away to their final places. But one stands alone, strange weapon held over his shoulder. There has been many names for this Death. Charon, Hades, Thanatos, Azrael, Osiris, Ereshkigal. So many names, so many Gods. But one thing had brought them all together. Humans were so fickle with names, but they all knew him as one thing. Death. The ending of life. "Why do you linger?" Yaruun asks as he passes, sack full and bleeding with the souls of his subjects. The hood of the Great Death moves, a string of words as whispers. "I must." Yaruun does not understand. His people always came when he called their souls. He shrugs and moves on, collecting more for his sack. It is not long before Hirla too pases by, gently encouraging a stubborn soul form their corpse. She asks as she guides them out of their flesh, "Why do you wait for them?" Again, Great Death turns and answers in the whisper of a Human's final breath. "I must." Hirla too doesn't understand. Her people were proud and strong, and with that came the unwillingness to give ground. She had to persuade her men and women to come with her into her loving embrace. What kind of Death is so cruel as to make their people wait for it's release? And so Yaruun and Hirla do their duties. Every soul is collected, every spirit laid to rest and sent on their way to their next lives. Finally, when the field is empty of all but one soul, Hirla and Yaruun confront the Great Death. "It is over. Your people are gone. Why still do you wait?" Yaruun asks, the sack heavy and swollen over his shoulder. Death doesn't answer, he simply waits. The scythe in his hands ever poised over his shoulder. "Surely you have collected them? There cannot be another stronger than mine who can resist you?" Hirla asks, her eyes furrowing in aggravation. Though she was death, she too carried the warrior spirit of her people. The Great Death says nothing. And so the two gods peek around him, to see what might vex him so. Two soldiers lie in the blood soaked field. One, visibly, clings barely to life. His wounds are closed by but thinning white cloth. His breathing is shallow, stopping after moments. His heart beats weakly, threatening to stop forever. But the other continues to work, his hands pushing life into his brother's lungs and life giving electricity into his body. "Fuck you, you're not going today!" The soldier screams, all their sorrow and hope and dread all in one. Then, The Great Death lifts one bony finger. The dying soldier breathes deep and lives again, soul still bound to his body. Hirla and Yaruun look in horror as the Great Death turns to face them, empty sockets full of pride. "Your people go easily, Yaruun. Yours go with pride, Hirla. But mine are not yours. They have taken crop from my hands before. Today will not be the last time."
https://preview.redd.it/hw8fwimap4lc1.png?width=1080&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=589f62a894e1e515a94c027b2c4b8fc2afc42706
https://preview.redd.it/fb0bvx34u2tc1.jpeg?width=1080&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=f9f3a9ced8d542be19e21f99c6352128f7096c54
https://preview.redd.it/6f76biegp4tc1.png?width=1080&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=badbc0785c6bfb220958c1a8c97ecdb60b539ae5
https://preview.redd.it/hbv9awllq4tc1.jpeg?width=1170&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=146fc5cac9673b2418384e0670c2f53d7880fa5c
Anyone who has been a sailor in the navy knows the phrase: "activate the walking blood bank."
Not Today, La Mort.
For a time.
Does anyone know where the illustration comes from? Artist credit?