#action post

[directactionforhope]

By the way, even if you fully plan to vote for Biden in November (because Trump would be worse and has declared that if elected he would ban Palestinians from entering the US x, x, x, x)...

You can and I would argue should call or email Biden or whatever other Democrats represent you and just straight up lie about it. Tell them "I'm a constituent, and I've voted for you in x number of elections, and thanks to your support for the genocide of the Palestinian people, I will never, ever vote for you again."

Politicians, Democrats, and especially Biden need a fire lit under their asses, because the vast majority of them clearly aren't going to do shit without one. Or, worse, be like Biden and actively be the reason that Israel can continue its genocide on a political, monetary, and military level.

Tell Biden and other politicians that you will never vote for them again. It doesn't matter if it's true. It will help pressure US politicians to stop this genocide, and therefore it's the right thing to do.

Obviously this also applies to other countries where politicians are supporting Israel's genocide, especially countries that have cut funding to UNRWA (list here).

[edgarallen-foe]

==> John: Ascend.

[bloodless-eyes]

==> Make the choice

You suppose you've put it off long enough. You decide to take the latter half of the day and report back to Abraxas to see if it's time for you to make your choice yet.

[jadeyharls]

I’m sorry your friend killed Dave 

[You sink in your seat some before deleting this ask. You are trying not to think about that right now, and you know no one else needs the reminder.]

[cyberneticlagomorph]

They should invent cybernetics that don't overheat

[A short video

Jack's face is drenched in sweat, sticking her hair to her scalp and neck.

She moves her hair aside and points the camera at the vents on the back of her neck.

They're pretty small but all of them are leaking steam. After a second there's a loud whooshing and even more steam pours out of her neck vents with a hiss.]

[casanovaaficionado]

==> Listen to the clown

You were in a great mood, the sky was clear, you had a few quests under your belt, you'd gotten a cute boy over, and gotten kisses! You were still more than a little twitterpated about that in particular. Right now you were sorting through your music, fussing a little as you put together a mix tape for Roxy, and jotted down half formed lyrics as they came to you for a little ditty for him, when Kurloz came in.

The other boy didnt even announce himself, he was just suddenly there, in Cro's space, making his wings pop out and fan as adrinaline spiked his heart rate. Kurloz smiled pleasantly and sat a hand on you shoulder. "-Heey- its been a minute, uh- nice to see ya-" You stammered a little, eyes meeting his, falling into the purple light into them. "LOOKS LIKE YOU'VE BEEN BUSY, BROTHER"

"Yeah.. I just-"

"KILLED YOURSELF? THOSE WINGS ARE REAL NICE- HAD TO DO THAT BY YOURSELF DIDNT YOU?" "Wvell yeah but-" "NOT EVEN SOMEONE WHO WOULD HELP YOU WITH OFFING YOURSELF, THATS SAD, YOU KNOW THATS SAD RIGHT?"

"A little but I didnt-" " I HEARD YOUVE BEEN HANGING AROUND MITUNA AND KANKRI LATELY" "Yeah thats been swvell--" "YOU THINK THEY DONT KNOW YOU'RE ONLY THERE BECAUSE YOU PITY THEM? POOR CULLABLE SOULS, YOU ONLY DO ANYTHING FOR PITY DONT YOU, YOU'LL THROW YOURSELF AT ANYTHING, EVEN THINGS THAT ARENT EVEN TROLLS" "No I-" "THE WHOLE HIVE STINKS OF ALIEN, EVERYONE KNOWS, CRONUS, THAT YOU'VE SEEN ONE OF THOSE LITTLE XENOFORMS THAT DONT KNOW ANY BETTER. YOU KNOW NO TROLL WILL HAVE YOU"

"Thats not true-" "DO YOU EVEN KNOW THE WARM BLOODS' NAMES? COME ON BROTHER LAY THEM ON ME, WHAT ARE THEIR NAMES? OR THE NAME OF THE LITTLE XENOFORM YOU'RE USING?"

"Uh,, I-- I cant-" "LISTEN I ONLY WANT WHATS BEST FOR YOU- YOU OUGHTA LEAVE THEM ALONE, LEAVE THIS PLACE WITH THAT ALIEN, IT'D BE BETTER, AT LEAST YOU CAN TRICK IT INTO PAILING WITH YOU, IF YOU CAN CALL THAT PAILING."

"But I wvas--" "THEY DONT NEED YOU CREEPING ON THEM, NO ONE NEEDS YOU CREEPING ON THEM"

"I wvasnt--" "MOTHERFUCKER WE'VE ALL SEEN WHAT YOU'RE LIKE, DONT TRY TO HIDE IT... THINK ABOUT IT THOUGH, WE'D BE BETTER OFF WITHOUT YOU"

Kurloz patted him on the shoulder and broke that eye contact, releasing Cronus, and drifting away and out of the hive again.

Cro sat down heavily on the couch.

Above, clouds rolled in, and thunder rumbled through them as it started to rain.

[tekras-iszovh]

====> To the end.

// final plot doc for now! featuring Tekras, Cyonah, Yannik (distractegikon), and the impending end of the universe, manifested as an ever collapsing and intruding void. Written by both me and lago :3

// this also marks the end of the cyonah takeover event, although you never know, he can make more appearances. wheeeww\!!!

[23c0nd-p2iigh7-2eer]

==> Make one mistake too many.

You've been really busy for the past several days. Going out on your land, grinding, fighting underlings, thinking about the Plan. It's nice to feel like you're doing something for the good of the session, instead of

…

What?

You got distracted again. You keep getting distracted lately. Maybe you haven't been sleeping enough.

You know you haven't been sleeping enough, in fact. You've been spending your days grinding, and your nights trying to figure out what's going on with that head of yours. Neither venture has been very successful.

Trying to dig into the blocked off areas of memory has just been resulting in headaches and static every time. It's frustrating. You know there's something very important in there. Something that needs to stop being a secret. But you haven't been able to get to whatever that information or memory is, your thoughts just slide off of it every time you get near.

And grinding hasn't been going much better. You don't remember what rung you're at on the echeladder, but you've been stuck there for a while. You haven't ascended a single rung since… you can't remember.

Maybe it's because you're just kind of dogshit at combat now, though.

Losing most of your psionic ability set you back to right about square two - you've even had to learn how to actually throw your throwing knives, instead of just telekinetically yeeting them around. You're still able to give them a bit of a boost, but your strategy has been reduced to "aim toward enemy and throw" rather than the crazy shit you used to do. Like boomeranging the knives around to attack an enemy from the back, while doing a sick skateboard trick to distract it.

Fuck, you miss combat skateboarding.

But hey, you've been doing pretty good so far, despite all the setbacks!

Well, for the most part.

When you first started out on this recent grindset, it'd seemed like the underlings had been nerfed to match your skill level, and for a while you were totally owning them at every turn. But maybe the nerf had been just temporary, or you'd just started out in an easier area, or something, because today it's been right back to ogres and shit.

Fucking ogres and shit, man-

[equiuszahhak]

> -- [ After a lovely night with Roxy, you are going to go visit Hyuu. You feel different today, after yesterday's decision. And still, you decide to keep your eyes how they are.

We will see how today goes. You need to see Goldwave, you cross your fingers the that Brass hasn't forgotten about you, ah, And you need to make time for Jill.

Having a social life for the first time in sweeps is exhausting. You only feel a little empty today. ]

[graviconscientia]

>You had visited Cronus, for a smoke, for no reason but to relieve stress. A chat with a friend, a moment where you might be able to speak candidly with someone, anyone...

>But the moment is gone, just as quick as it arrived, and you are left with ash, and embers, and emptiness. He is a kind young man, and you are trying to offer him support and friendship- the sort you hope someone may offer you someday- but it seems so difficult to reach him. (You think, idly, that people might feel the same about you.)

>There is a moment, right before you step on the transportaliser, where you look back to Cronus, to make a promise for another meeting. There's a smile for him, but something creeps into your mind, whispers of threats made long ago, a suffocating haze that puts you back in a darkened room with a single red light, flashes of vicious memories you are not sure are yours...

>You don't know how long you've been standing there. You don't know how long your mind has been toyed with, but it is certainly long enough. You look up, into a vent grate, and are certain you see eyes behind it. Eyes you recognise. Gamzee's eyes.

>Today isn't the day to start a fight. You wouldn't be able to win it. But neither would he- you know it. He gave you his warning, but you are sure he remembers your promise, too. The next time you see him, you will kill him.

>For now, though, with a racing heart and muddled mind and tears burning in your eyes, your throat, you leave, faster than expected. But still not fast enough. The moment you reach your own room, in the home where he found you sweeps ago, you cannot stop yourself from sobbing.

[greyscalekaleidoscope]

==> Be the clown

You already were the clown, motherfucker.

You paced around the room, agitated and restless. The eyes of the Juju that kept you company seemed to follow you as you moved around it. Plenty of beanbags, juggling things, horns, photographs of broken down carnivals, a mix of decay and mirth decorated your room, as was right and proper. An alter was set up, set with candles and face paints, a mirror and an egg on an egg stand.

FUCK

You pull your fingers through your curls. Everything had been going perfectly but now- but now. What were you going to do? All your work was being undone systematically, and you felt the pressure of the weight of your gods' displeasure.

Your moirail will never be the same, he'll never recover, never grow to his full potential now, without the scratch. He'll be like you, flawed, unworthy. Your matesprit will never recover her hearing, because you could not follow the plan.

I FOLLOWED THE PLAN MOTHERFUCKER, I DID-- SOMETHING MUST HAVE CHANGED. GODS- PLEASE, WE NEED--

You knew you were flawed from the beginning. Perhaps you'll simply have to perform the scratch yourself, manually.

HOW? HOW DO I FIX THIS, HALF THE TEAM IS MOBILIZED AGAINST ME.

You swung around to stare at the puppet that stared back at him, whispering into his mind.

You'll just have to find a way, we know you will, you can earn your place in the carnival and save them, Kurloz, you just have to try harder.

TRY HARDER? WHAT THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?

Your best

[absylphe]

It's one thing to make yourself up like a fake alien so you can be there for your friend before he goes in for surgery -- Sol had even gone out of his way to get you a little badge that says Medical Advocate, the sweet thing. So sentimental. Unfortunately, you're an 'alien' to these medicullers, and even then you have no papers documenting your experience in the field. Even if you did, they wouldn't hold much weight.

No, the only credential you have is this silly little laminated badge clipped to your blouse pocket, which makes you about as much of a mediculler as an emotional support barkfiend. Less than one, even -- at least the barkfiend has a fake certificate from a website with its name on it.

Your name is Kanaya Maryam, and you have way too many disorders and syndromes to be doing shit like breaking into a secure medical facility.

Sharp ears pin back by your head as you pass a pair of med techs gossiping beside the door to a store room -- someone was stood up on a date, it seems, and their entire perigee has been a solid slog of misery since then. Miraculously, you manage to get by without drawing attention, though your pulse soars as you round the corner.

You shake. Brace your arm against the wall and take a deep breath, pressing forward. A message flashes across the display of your sewing glasses. A flat red tone.

No one's noticed you. It's okay. Calm down.

The one nice thing about having Hal watching cameras for you is you know when there are med techs ahead, and you know that they're going to be too busy to notice you.

The one bad thing about it is the scrutiny, knowing someone is watching your every little move.

Just keep your back straight. You have the professional air.

A deep breath, signing quietly in the air with haptic gloves. It's something to do to get the nerves out, at least.

Yes Sorry

If you apologize to me again I'll hit the fire alarm.

You laugh under your breath, in spite of yourself. A catacomb of a medical facility where you stick out like a sore thumb where everyone towers over you -- your fingers move on their own, idly quipping something back, but you're not really thinking about it. You're thinking about take the next left turn, you're thinking about at your next right avoid the sanitation staff, you're thinking about slow your pace 20% if you want to avoid crossing paths with a pissy mediculler looking to pick a fight.

You stop yourself right before the hallway as said pissy mediculler rasps hoarsely under her breath, practically stomping around the corner -- ships passing in the night, a kayak and a brig of war. Your hands move idly as you move ever closer to your target, a suspicious block Dirk had identified off of the cameras.

Have You Ever Set Up One Of Those Voiceovers For Driving Assist In Two Hundred Feet Feint Left

Hahaha. I should. You miss the turn and I'm like You stupid bitch. You dumb motherfucker.

A last second warning pops up, you duck into a restroom as pair of surgeonnihilators bicker their way down the hall -- something about checking patient records for allergies before using general anesthesia, something about a lawsuit, something about incidental deaths. Fingers twitch nervously as you let yourself back out, trusting Hal enough to keep you safe that you don't bother looking both ways. You don't have time for that.

You reach your destination. The suspicious medblock Dirk picked out -- the one that's a little too small, the one that's a little bit strange. On confirmation from the cameras that it's empty inside, you let yourself in and click the door closed silently behind you.

Totally empty, aside from a bare whiff of that sickly, rotting smell that has been hanging over your friend like a plague. He was here, at least.

You home in on the shelves that were pointed out to you, prod this and that with your hands -- unsurprisingly, a hidden door falls open like an ill-kept secret. It's good that it's there, even though it's maddening that a hospital has such a thing. It just means the way forward is probably a lot more straightforward, from here.

A blip at the corner of your glasses -- an update from Dirk.

There's a ship that's been idle for a hot minute. I don't know what they'd be waiting on this long. Except for some high value cargo.

Your bilesac sinks like a stone as you stalk briskly down the tunnel.

Like maybe, a fuchsia.

So maybe you're not paranoid, maybe you're not crazy, maybe there is a conspiracy hiding behind the guise of this simple procedure.

It should have been a bog standard debridement, nothing in the abandoned files you found in the original medblock point to anything that would complicate the procedure. Sure, her white cell count is down, but her immune system isn't a complete crapshoot! Her vitals aren't in the best condition compared to her baseline, but they're hardly in a malignant state.

Is this an assassination attempt? Unlikely, at least one tyrian needs to be around to keep the great oceanic beast at bay.

A coup, then?

Whatever the case, you're not letting them take her. Not without a damned good reason.

Or a fight.

Oh fuck. Duck behind that barrel fast.

In an instant, you've flash-stepped behind a barrel, forehead tucked tight against the metal rim so your horns don't peek up and over the edge -- you hold your breath to stifle your bioluminescence, waiting to hear something, anything out of place.

One second, two seconds, five.

Nothing happens.

There wasn't any danger, I just wanted to see if you'd do it.

Your head whips around for the nearest camera and you flip it off with a scowl as you sprint by, trying to make up for lost time.

You're A Bastard

GREAT reaction time.

Maybe there's a second bad thing about being watched on the cameras.

[forchosen]

You exhale, breath condensing on the air and leaving a faint cloud around your mouth. It looks much different from the smoke you let off of your scalp and tail, of course, but the sight of your precipitate is not enough to set off alarms on its own.

Clearly.

Since you were fed in the morning, you have been seated on the ground, cross legged. You arms are bound at your side, the visor strapped over your face. The camera enables to to see your surroundings while it isn't in use, but you don't need to look around the room. You keep your eyes closed, inhale, and exhale more frost.

Electronics don't like the cold. Dark taught you that. They don't like being too hot, either, but your flames are kept carefully disabled to prevent you from lighting yourself ablaze. It's fine. You have more than one elemental power under your control, even if ice is one of your least used.

Fire was your agent of destruction. Fire and lasers together burned websites to the ground, destroyed canon cards, burnt sticks alive. It gave you flight. It granted you exits. It was your default.

Your ice, you neglected. Ice stopped, trapped, protected, incapacitated. It was not so destructive, not so gratifying to use. It was not fed on your rage, on your fear, on your hurt. You brute forced it in the past, forcing it from your being to protect yourself, to stop others in their tracks. You were unpractised, and so you picked a day to spend seated, willing yourself to cool your prison, to freeze the electronics that lay behind your back. You could not force it this time, could not form a great iceberg to forge your escape all at once, because as soon as your icy hands touched the glowing walls you would find yourself unable to conjure any cold at all. You had to be subtle, methodical, patient, incremental.

You inhaled, imagining the air being super-cooled inside of you, imagined a block of dry ice and the vapour it let off, and exhaled, dropping the temperature of the room several more degrees. You had to keep yourself from shivering, anything but immune to the effects of your own powers.

The Dark Lord lurked somewhere in front of you, curious what you were doing. She would be - you rarely used more than your fire and laser vision in front of her. She is, however, a distraction, and you grit your cold teeth together, willing her to leave you alone before irritation relit your flame. Again.

It's freezing in here, she says. Are you doing that on purpose?

You nod, and you hear a whir that descends in pitch, the constant light that disturbed your sleep, ever present, flickering to darkness. You half expect to hear a music box tune spin to life, but there is nothing but the shuffling of unseen panicked feet. You smirk, your frozen hands now set aglow with fresh embers. It was time for another escape attempt.

[scarredscales]

In the month since his initial arrival, Khaklos had adapted rather quickly to the dangers of this realm of nightmares -- as much as anyone could really be expected to, in any case. The domain really felt as if it was hostile to life itself outside of the twisted horrors it produced. Every waking hour, the almost colorless and bleak landscape greeted him, dimly illuminated by the baleful eye that emitted light in substitute of a moon -- sunlight did not touch this place.

He'd learned that there were somehow permanent residents of Efialtis in spite of everything that made it appear uninhabitable. The terrain, already treacherous, often shifted when eyes were turned away -- there was never a guarantee that the same paths would persist, that the same destinations would exist at the end of them. So the lizard-man tread with caution, treating his surroundings as if they were just as set on killing him as the wildlife seemed to be.

His vocation was one where he could spend long stretches of time making little contact with others, and he'd initially been wary of the inhabitants -- delaying approaching them for some time. When he did, the encounter nearly ended in disaster due to something he was only able to ascertain later -- the meat here was tainted, and eating it had made him lose his mind for a few hours. Fortunately, he'd stopped before he caused any harm to the pair. Small, scaleless and nearly furless creatures; they were far kinder to him than anything else here had been, even with their understandable wariness.

But he had not been inclined to overstay his welcome, making demands on the kindness of strangers.

Khaklos was not unfamiliar with survival in adverse conditions, in any case, but taking stock of his supplies now painted a grim picture. Even as an overprepared survivalist, he couldn't make his rations stretch much longer. He'd discovered through an exchange with one inhabitant that some flora here was edible, but he'd gagged at the texture and taste of what was given to him. He couldn't imagine a lifetime of eating only this.

All attempts at finding any way home -- or even just out -- had proven futile thus far, and his attention had gradually turned to another puzzle. One of the women had mentioned that she was missing companions -- her 'hoofbeasts'. He'd not seen a certain trace of either, but at times he found a patch of fur caught on a thistle that seemed too fine to belong to any of the night beasts he'd seen -- yet any trail always grew cold. It was as if Efialtis itself was keeping them hidden.

There had been a shift in the past few days. He could not have placed what exactly was different, but it felt as if he hadn't had to scrape to avoid the stalking terrors as much as he usually did. For once, it didn't feel as if they were constantly breathing down his neck. When his apparent change in fortune held, he felt emboldened enough to investigate when an unfamiliar scent caught his attention.

He was soon led to a glade in the seemingly endless barren forest that comprised much of Efialtis. There was a pit within where soft earth quickly gave way to stone, and the jutting rocks lining the interior resembled teeth to an almost unsettling degree.

There were times, while he had been here, that his senses had felt muddled, where he was unsure of what he felt. But this time, he was entirely certain. The scent he'd caught could only belong to an animal, and one quite alive. The thought of meat that wasn't dried and preserved made Khaklos start to salivate in anticipation. He paused at the chasm, sinking to a crouching position and continuing to scent the air with flicks of his forked tongue.

He paused there for a small handful of minutes. Blinking in a specific way into the dark beneath him triggered a change that might easily have been missed by an observer who wasn't watching quite closely -- a thin colorless lens descended from under each of his upper lids to cover his eyes, allowing him to make alterations to his vision. This way it mattered less how quickly the ambient light faded away into complete darkness beneath him. Various blinks allowed different lenses to swap in as he analyzed different traits of the crevice, information filtered to him from technology far more advanced than he'd seen any hint of here.

Entering a cave you knew nothing about was a very good way to die.

Eventually, Khaklos was satisfied with his survey, and with little fanfare, he leapt into the abyss, landing squarely on a jutting bit of rock some twenty feet down, solid enough to hold his weight. There continued to be a generous amount of clearance further down, enough that even with seven feet of height, his muscular tail and considerable bulk, there was nothing stopping his descent other than the need to find proper footholds. In very little time he found himself before a tunnel that proceeded more or less horizontally.

There was another lull in his movement as he investigated the passage ahead, but it didn't last nearly as long as the first. Hesitation held him in place for a moment after that. The space grew cramped rather quickly ahead, and he was uncertain whether the room was enough. Poking around a bit, he found a large stone that gave way when he shoved it, and that there was a decent amount of loose gravel.

With a steeling of nerves, he decided to proceed, finding himself needing to crawl along the ground and scrabble at the ground at the narrowest point to make it through. But make it through he did, and following the tunnel as it ascended gently, he was able to mostly remain standing as he continued, though at times he needed to duck. Thirty yards on it curved suddenly, sweeping to the right, and soon after that it opened into a massive open cavern.

He knew without looking what he'd found, just from scenting the air.

[jadeyharls]

And cue a grey blur and a Bones pup running under the bed again. Here we go again. "Hi I'm not here."

Cue a thumbs up from Jade before promptly going back to what she was doing. “Gotcha, not here. Let me know if you need anything.”

Was it weird this was a normal thing at this point? Maybe, but hey. She couldn’t blame the kid for needing a break from his siblings for a bit.

Especially the one that he’d mentioned was after him.