#psionic machine

[princeofhags]

i just finished reading about iraestra so wand of twilight for her as well!

Wand of Twilight. Iraestra conjures a spirit from the land of the dead to speak to them.

FANTASY PROMPTS | @foxboyclit

Smoke floods the altar in fragrant plumes, the familiar taste of myrrh coating the back of Iraestra's throat uncomfortably. Her steps, purposefully measured and slow, sound monstrous in the cavernous wings of the ceremonial chamber. The peace is further broken by the occasional murmur of an invocation or rustling cloth. There has been no order given for silence, but the trepidation hanging heavy in the air as the incense enforces the command. They all wait in the lurch of a breathless hush, an animal instinct to a known threat. Still, so that the hunter is not enthralled by your fleeing. Anticipation before the blow.

Does their visitor scent the fear he instills in the air, like a hound? Does the chorus of thrumming hearts beckon to him like the call of war drums? Bodies, so many bodies for him to open and bleed.

Itaestra does not doubt that he often relishes it. Bhaalspawn are such curious, depraved half-beasts.

Prince of the Blood. A self-given title, perhaps, but she has heard the reverence Bhaal's faithful pour at his feet like wine libations. Their honored guest is heir to a butcher's legacy. She thinks him little more than a glorified killer draped in the dressings of grandeur.

Iraestra does not cower or draw back from him, but there is still an instinctual unease at the thought of a Bhaalspawn being familiar with her. The Dread Lord’s wicked heirs do not know friends, only warm bodies to bite with steel. The world to them is already dead, merely waiting to be torn asunder to show its truest color: the crimson of fresh spilt blood.

A hedonistic dogma. She holds her tongue due to the respect granted to Bhaal by her own unholy master.

She observes the preparations for the ritual with only half an eye, attention commanded by the ophidian silhouette haunting the edge of the room. What a disquieting picture he paints. His height causes him to loom terribly, heads and shoulders above the flock of mortal meat. He need not even draw his weapon to kill half the room should he wish it. Each finger is tipped with a talon that catches the candlelight with each of his clenching hand. When he had spoken, his teeth had stood out vividly against the stone-black gleam of his scales. The dried gore on his scales embrace him as intimately as any lover.

The wicked length of a barbed tail flickers in what may be a sign of agitation in his people, or merely a quirk of the extra limb. His attention is riveted on the altar. She half expects it to catch aflame.

She attempts not to concern herself with his growing impatience. Any fool can cast a spell to converse with the departed; a Myrkulite only does so at the behest of another and the blessings of the Bone Lord. She will not disregard the tenants of her faith even for this Prince.

"You're eager," she observes. The dragonborn has not left the corpse's side since it was brought to her. Curious. He must be thoroughly invested in the secrets it would spill. "It was good that you preserved the jaw. A wasted trip had you not," she stops by the head, only the breadth of a few steps between her and the Prince.

At that, he finally regards her. Even in his initial instructions he had been short with her. "What of a tongue?

"Is this a theoretical or practical query?" Short of the patience to wait for an answer, Iraestra snaps at one of the attendants. "Bone Talker, check the mouth."

Questing fingers find only half of the appendage still intact. If removed before death, exsanguination is as likely a cause as any.

"It will do," she decides. "I am ready to begin." Her attendants step back as one.

The body has been prepared as best they can given its mangled state. This man, who can be no older than twenty, bares the marks of a slow death. The skull, partially caved, rests unevenly on the cloth. He does not even look peaceful now, as the victims of violence rarely do.

She steps forward, hands rising from her sides. Iraestra readies herself to speak the ancient words.

"Alone," the Prince's clipped voice rings out clearly. Not a request. Demand.

Iraestra hisses her frustration. Better vexation, than dread. She knows the vestments of anger well, slips into them like a second skin. Her mouth twists, her shoulders draw tight. Her hands are half-formed claws in the air. She hears the pound of her own heart in her ears.

What is so important that it cannot be witnessed by the others? What is to be done with her, who will attend to the questioning herself?

"Mistress?" Every cowled head in the room turns to look at her. They hear the call for her death as vividly as she. One of the fools is brave enough to step towards her, as if they could truly do anything to intervene. She admires them for their stupidity.

The Prince watches her, well aware of what he asks for. Trust or faith or maybe both. Clearly, he is looking for a reaction. Will she falter, will she balk? Could he make a bouquet of the stench of her unease? He regards her with a snake's stare, eyes cold licks of fire. He does not blink.

If he thinks he can subdue her so easily, then he is sorely mistaken. She is drow. She is Oblodra. Her own mother's hands were the first to ever try to take her life. He will find no easy marks here today. Let him slake his thirsts elsewhere. There are other, weaker creatures for him to gorge himself on.

"Leave us," Iraestra does not take her eyes from the Prince. She does not speak or move again until the door clicks shut behind the last attendant. How awfully similar it sounds to the closing stone of a tomb.

She rounds on him, irritation clear. "Why did you ask for me?"

The Prince is the first to look away, back to her hands and then the body. Iraestra does not feel like she has won anything of merit. It is impossible to tell if he is pleased. "The Banite confides in you. I thought to do the same."

He does not give a name, nor does she ask for it. She wonders at what the Prince knows of her talks with the other Chosen.

"And what if his confidence is misplaced?" A theoretical. Her loyalty is not often brought into question. It is rare that she pledges it at all.

"Then I will kill you," the Prince simply states.

She laughs. That intention is only the natural conclusion of the dance. There is no greater aim for those of his depraved bent. "So you say. Did you not plan to do so already?"

His head tilts in a particularly reptilian gesture. His glittering eyes have found the pulse in her throat, her bare wrists. She cares not for his study. It feels too much like a physical caress, high beneath dress and robe. One hunger is not too different from another, and she supposes they may be frighteningly the same for him. Both indulgences of the flesh, in the end. "Do not tempt me. Your blood would spill sweetly on this floor."

Iraestra sneers. "Cast your fetid gaze elsewhere, brute. You will not find easy prey in me."

He chuckles darkly. "Of that I am sure. I would savor the challenge as much as anything else."

"I was under the impression that there were more pressing matters at hand, given your early insistence on haste."

"Time can always be afforded for pleasure, sorceress. Consider the feel of silk on the skin. The burst of fruit between teeth and the rush of the juice down your chin, the clench of a lover tight around you as they sob your name. That final, shuddering breath that flutters out of the throat at death. Do you not feel the drum of the heart in your own chest? Do you not wish to dance to it? If you are so indifferent to it, I could show you how to listen to it once more. To feel it." How reverently he speaks, as if he is at the shrine of his own father-god. His lids have nearly closed in rapture.

There's smoke in the dragonborn's mouth and anticipation in his words, thick enough to choke on. He whispers with the tongue of a snake, words dripping from the depravities he utters.

As mad as his sister, the shape-changer, Iraestra decides with disdain. The seed of Bhaal is truly cursed with madness, complete and true. It was preferable when he was barely acknowledging her presence despite demanding it in the first place.

"You have nothing that I desire." Were she younger, still a fool turned by a pretty face, she may have once allowed herself to be seduced by the offer. She ignores the answering hook of arousal low in her gut, focusing once more on the misshapen head on the pillow. Reminds herself of whose hands exactly have crushed it. There is much to do before she is ready for the grave. "Now, if you will allow me to get on with this, we may be each rid of the other before long."

“A pity that you deny yourself,” but he nods. “Perform your rites. Regretfully, I cannot linger for long.” 

Iraestra does not regret that. She is exhausted and enthralled by him in equal measure. Let this be the first and last time she suffers his company. 

She begins her prayer to the dead. 

[crazyskirtlady]

@waterborns I added multidimensional channeled biophotonic coded switch_words to the altar to boost your intentions into the noosphere🌈 & cybersphere🌐

🙏🏾may it serve you well🙏🏾

[titanclashbattleofthegods]

[imsorryithurts]

My character almost died last TTRPG session. Real tense, but I have to admit, real fun.

[meraki-sunset]

How many blood colors now in your AU?

You'll learn more about them on the CSAU epilogue but here's a quick rundown

I placed the SpriteBloods in between the canon bloods acording to the colorweel. They might look out of place due to their brightness but if you check it they are where they're suposed to be in the colorweel

Facts about CSAU'S EarthC's hemospectrum

Lime blood resurfaced naturally a couple generations after the gods left, from Karkat's descendants, since there was no mandatory culling for any grub born with that blood

Mutant limes like Karkat always get mistakenly placed in the Crimson blood since Karkat's blood in basically indistinguishable from Arquius's

SpriteBloods are sometimes called Bright Bloods or Neon Bloods, since they have a diferent saturation than the other bloods but are not considered mutant in any way.

Chartreuse bloods can be kinda wacky looking sometimes because they have Davepeta's and Erisol's features, like wings, double horns, fins and psionics (it's really really rare to have all of them at once but some poor bastards do)

Tavros went from being the third lowblood color to the third highblood color, the colorweel oposite blood from his original blood, tying up with him now being a mirrored oposite of his original self, along with his hair going from black to white, his self self-esteem going from low to high, his body going from not able to walk to able to fly. Also as a big fuck you to Vriska, he is now higher on the hemospectrum than her

Crimson blooded trolls can have technopathic habilities, AKA comunion with computers, being able to hack or repair machines (with practice and training those habilities) from the inside. often have thick straight hair

There's nothing too diferent from violets and lilac bloods, except lilacs have a higher tendency of feline features and a higher percentage of females, like with jade bloods (this comes from the fuccia side, who are usually girls)

Chartreuse usually look like either Erisol (seadweeler + 1 Psionic eye) or Davepeta (white hair + wings). But they can come up mixed, have 2 psionic eyes and wings, white hair and fins, etc.

Azure bloods being half lusus, have parental incstincts just like jade bloods and the two cast work together in the brooding caverns, and are prone to have their own ofspring.

After centuries of natural non-selective breeding, life expectancy of trolls narrowed and people of diferent bloods have now closer life expectancies. Theres still a diference between bloods and you will live longer the higher on the hemospectrum, but EarthC trolls no longer live hundreeds of thousands of years

That's all i can tell you for now, like i said you'll learn more about it in the epilogue as the charcaters live on Earth C

[theresattrpgforthat]

hello! I've played the fallout ttrpg (the one they had to pull the rights from when it was pretty much done so they called it Exodus instead), I wish it didn't suck so bad! Is there any system I could borrow that would fit with Fallout's setting? I love the world in itself, but Exodus was rushed and published half-baked

THEME: Fallout

Hello friend, I have quite a few games for you to check out today! Some of them are direct homages, while others simply just have elements that might remind you of the video game.

Rebels of the Outlaw Wastes, by Nerdy Pup Games.

Play misfit outlaws fighting against the authoritarian Powers That Be in a hyper-saturated, film-grained, retro dystopia. Save the future with the power of friendship, whoopass, and explosions! Features sticker-based character advancement, effortless cinematic vehicle action, and player-driven Ride-or-Die system usings d4s, d6s, d8s, d10s, and d12s.

This game is a bit more colourful and punk-rock, and a little less morally grey than some of the more popular Fallout games. The designer cites some pretty colourful inspirations, such as FLCL and Six-String Samurai, but also concedes that you can make the tone fit that of Borderlands, Fallout, and Mad Max. It depends on how you build your world - what tech was there before? What kinds of weirdness persists? What beliefs have survived?

You’ll make skill rolls that can be boosted by gear or your personal style, with anything above a 4 granting you a success, with bonuses for rolling even higher at an 8 or a 12. Badges are the representations of character growth, tied to the skills that you choose to improve, somewhat like how concentrating on certain skills in Fallout gives you access to perks. If you want a stripped-down basic idea of the rules for this game, the designer has a Pay-what-you-want playtest that you can download for free, just to dip your toes in the water.

Earth: After Death, by Hammer City Games.

Boasting deep and crunchy mechanics reminiscent of the golden age of 90s TTRPGs, Earth, After Death focuses on OSR-style gaming, dungeon and hex crawling, fast-paced combat, high lethality, and a unique and fascinating setting to explore.

There’s plenty to do: kill mutants, explore ancient ruins, get lethal radiation poisoning, find a gun that has infinite ammunition, use psionic powers to blow up peoples heads, replace your legs with tank treads, and more!

This is a chunky, old-school style game that takes care to mention that your level-up system is just like the advancement system in Fallout games. You’ll be dealing with mutations, ghost machines, bartering for gear, and hex-crawling through dangerous wastelands. The character sheets point to a lot of moving pieces, so if you like wrangling together a character that does exactly what you want them to do, you’re going to have a lot to play with here. It looks like mutation is also a pretty big deal in this game, with over 100 different kinds advertised on the game’s store page.

Right now just the Wasteland’s Handbook is available to purchase, but the kickstarter for this game will be taking off later this year. If this sounds like your kind of game, then maybe hop over to the website to get in on the first full edition as it releases!

Fallout: The Roleplaying Game, by Modiphius.

In 2077, the storm of nuclear war reduced most of the planet to cinders. From the ashes of nuclear devastation, a new civilization will struggle to arise. A civilization you will shape. How will you re-shape the world? Will you join with a plucky band of survivors to fight off all-comers and carve out your own settlement? Will you team up with pre-existing factions like the Brotherhood of Steel or Super Mutants to enforce your own ideals on the Wasteland? Ghoul or robot, paladin or raider, it’s your choice - and the consequences are yours. Welcome to the Wasteland. Welcome to the world of Fallout.

Utilizing Modiphius’ celebrated 2d20 cinematic role-playing system, the Fallout RPG will take players on an exciting journey into the post-apocalypse! Create your own survivors, super mutants, ghouls, and even Mister Handy robots. Immerse yourselves in the iconic post-nuclear apocalyptic world of Fallout, while gamemasters guide their group through unique stories and encounters. The 2d20 edition of Fallout is as close to the bottlecap bartering, wasteland wandering, Brotherhood battling excitement as you can get.

Modiphius gets the license to make a lot of games for different properties, so a Fallout game fits in alongside other big titles like Dune, John Carter of Mars, and Alien. This company uses their own 2d20 system, with a focus on inventory and Perks in an effort to make the game recognizable to any typical Fallout fan.

That being said, the game has come under fire for being poorly edited and inconsistent when it comes to finding the right rule. The company updated the game last year and released a Settler’s Guide book, so this might be something that’s a bit more read-able now. But if you want something set directly in the Fallout universe, this is your game.

WASTELAND, by MaelikGames.

WASTELAND is a simple tabletop RPG about adventurers in the world that has only recently became hospitable after a War that might not end all wars, but almost ended the world. You and your friends decide whether this world is bleak and hopeless, like the one in Metro, or somewhat whimsical, as in Fallout. 

Much of the inspiration from Fallout appears in the character options of this game. Arkanites are homages to Vault-Dwellers, Radkin are inspired by Ghouls, and robots are, well, robots. The talents also look like they are directly inspired by Fallout perks, such as Animal Friend, which allows you to turn hostile animals into allies. Gear and inventory are both very important in this game, which is something that I never find surprising in post-apocalyptic games, since having to track inventory feels like a pretty important thing in a game about scarcity. Your skills are also based on a percentage of success, because you’re rolling a d100, with the goal of rolling under your target number. If you’re looking for a game that can mechanically reflect much of what’s available in the Fallout video games, this might be for you!

Dystopia Rising: Evolution, by Onyx Path.

No one knows how long it’s been since the world was blasted with nuclear radiation and became infested with the undead. The survivors of the Fall were the first strain of deviation of the human condition and were able to make it through the rapidly spreading epidemic. Finding a community of decent size in this world is rare; finding one that has any concept of equality or morality is rarer still.

Oh, and people have the unnerving ability to come back from the dead, regrown from the very virus that destroyed the world.

This is a completely different world from Fallout and yet I think it might still be worth talking about in this rec post. Dystopia Rising has a rich, detailed world, with various factions and faiths, and your characters are differentiated by the Strains that have helped them survive. There are plenty of conflicting beliefs that can be the seeds for unlimited conflict, including various faiths in things like evolution or the preservation of humanity, strains that give you psychic powers, and a universal ability to come back to the dead so many times before you’re turned into a mindless zombie.

There’s plenty of opportunity to fight things hand-to-hand, but there’s just as many possibilities to politic your way out of tough scenarios, which is a hallmark of Fallout New Vegas. Not only that, there's no clear "good guys": this is a complicated world with complicated people. If you want a game that carries a lot of similar themes of Fallout but puts you in a new setting, maybe check out this game.

Games I’ve Recommended in the Past

Extinction Punk, by Extinction Punk.

Wastoid, by Jason Tocci.

[bonebrokebuddy]

Can you please do 13 if no one else has already :D

OH HOHO THIS IS A GOOD ONE

13) “You mean, you Don’t actually look human?!”

————

Kryptonians canonically have telepathic abilities or at the very least psionic abilities. We’ve talked about the ridiculousness of the silver age catch-all of Super-Hypnosis that Clark would use to make people forget his identity.

It’s one of the explanations DC made to explain why only a simple pair of eyeglasses made such a perfect disguise for Clark Kent the mild-mannered reporter, so no one would suspect he was Superman. Because in Superman # 330, Superman apparently unconsciously hypnotizes everyone who looks at him to making them believe that his face is different than Clark Kent’s.

This has absofuckinglutley been retconned out of existence since but consider, this helps with a fun concept and I also do not care because at one point it was cannon so that means I’m right.

Consider: It’s not just used for disguising reasons.

If it can influence how people perceive kryptonians look, maybe it could also influence people into thinking they looked more human than they actually did.

Now, one thing that’s repeated again and again in Kryptonian society is that they are upheld to the high standard of being at the “peak of physical and mental perfection.”

So, what if this mentality of needing to look at the expectation of physical perfection also transferred unconsciously?

And Because Clark does this unconsciously, that would mean that he looks just a little different to every single person who ever looked at him. So, everyone would see Superman as more of their standards of what they think “physical perfection” means. Now, this would:

Result in literally every person thinking that Superman is ridiculously attractive (this includes ace folks. I’m ace. Doesn’t mean I can’t look at someone and go “they’re hot.” because again, personal idea of physical perfection.)

Would be a great intro into a fun side plot of Jimmy being the definitive Superman photographer because not only did he get the first clear photo of Superman, the telekinetic perception doesn’t fully transfer digitally. In a true “eye of the beholder” fashion, whoever takes the image sets the image how they perceive it. So as Jimmy is the one who showed the world their first image of Superman, Jimmy’s perception of Superman would eventually become The Definitive View Of Superman as it’s just what people would expect Kal-El to look like & so his Superman form would eventually settle into the same form he took in Jimmy’s first few photos.

But that’s just when he’s in his Superman persona. When he’s Clark Kent, he is his own perception of what an “average human” looks like. His frame is still very tall & wide (I mean, there’s no getting around that. have you seen how they draw the guy? His shoulders are a mile long) but it’s filled out in a way that looks very natural for a farm boy from Kansas. Like one of those guys who don’t work out but regardless are fairly muscular & look like they can lift a cow. It so depending on the circumstance Clark looks like a gentle giant who everyone in the office asks to help them lift heavy objects or very intimidating when interrogating a corrupt CEO during an interview, using his height and large frame to tower over them in a looming manner.

In both forms he keeps the eye color, hair color, and rough build because otherwise it would look like he was clipping through objects to onlookers.

As this is an unconscious process, even Clark doesn’t know he’s doing it. He kinda knows in the back of his head but it’s just not something he’s ever registered with conscious thought.

With that in mind:

- The Justice League gets captured by a big bad.

- In addition to other security measures to prevent them from escaping, there is a machine that, while in range of it, it creates a mental block for telepaths and psionic abilities on influencing others. It is intended so J’onn cannot find the hidden location of the Justice League to free them.

- But that’s not the only effect it had.

- Suddenly Bruce is able to see what Clark Actually looks like

- But not just Bruce, Everyone in the Justice League that was trapped (take your pick of who) is now able to see the unnaturally saturated blue eyes in their real hue for the first time

- They are so bright that a camera nor any human technology or earthly pigment would ever be able to reproduce or fully capture the piercing shade of blue that stared straight through their being.

- And his too many perfectly straight and white teeth

- His eyes that now look too large to naturally sit on a human-reminiscent face

- Clark’s brow furrowed when he noticed everyone staring at him. the hinge of his jaw opened wider than what a human’s limitations would allow when he went to ask what was wrong

- the base of his voice is still just a touch too loud

-but underneath his voice is an unearthly booming quality with base just out of human perception but it still sent shivers down their spines as it resonated with the frequency of the room

- The tendons shifting under his skin bulge and twist in ways that seem like they shouldn’t fit under his skin and the placement of muscle groups visible under his suit looked like someone tried to reassemble a human from memory

- His features are just suddenly. Off. Distinctly something other.

The mental mask falls away and the Justice League is able to see the slight wrongness about clark.

It's not the fact that he's a alien that makes their necks prickle, it's the age old instinct of something that looks enough like a human but you just know it's not.

And the ensuing chaos Would Be Fucking Amazing

Because, again, Clark Himself Doesn't Know He’s Doing It.

Addon that I was going to branch off of but decided to leave out of the final cut:

I feel like Bruce would honestly be relieved. It would answer a ton of his questions. Especially seen in Anatomy of a Metahuman, Bruce expresses extreme bafflement over How The Fuck Clark is so human-like despite being an alien. The fact that this would confirm his existing theory littered in small notes on the sides of his drawings in that book that Clark uses some kind of psionics for his powers, would be a huge relief because he finally has answers to how Clark works. Now he can apply proper adjustments to his contingency plans to account for this new discovery.

I just really enjoy the idea that Clark only looks human at first glance but when you take a moment to look at him closely, you can tell that something’s distinctly off about the guy. 

[goattypegirl]

During the peaceful period following the reformation of Spherus Magna (and the conclusion of the... tumultuous events shortly after) much previously obscured information about the Matoran universe came to light. The actions of the Makuta and Order of Mata Nui, the nature of the Red Star, the machinations of the Great Beings. But for certain scholars, one unanswered question continued to nag them in the back of their minds.

Why was Karzahni given the Olisi?

For much of the Matoran Universe's history, Artakha and Karzahni were mythical figures. The Smith and the Physician. Synthesis and Dissolution. A reward for good work and a punishment for poor. Brothers who competed for a legendary prize before the dawn of the world.

(For the record, said contest never actually happened. There was a minor debate between the Great Beings during the planning phase, and they were designed by two teams working in parallel, but by the time the twins were constructed their purpose was already decided. It's not the only instance of the Great Beings' actions being exaggerated into an epic myth by the GSR inhabitants.)

According to the former inhabitants of Karzahni's realm, the Olisi was used to torment the titan's subjects accoring to his capricious whims. Flaming chains to break the body, a rictus-grin mask to break the mind. But why? Karzahni wasn't cruel in the beginning, so why would the Great Beings grant him that mask? Was it meant to be anesthetic, granting Matoran sweet dreams as the titan operated on them? Perhaps it was a replacement mask, his original mask discarded alongside his Duty?

Recently, the answer was found in a laboratory near the site of the old iron tribe. The Osili was a diagnostic tool. Matoran commonly develop amnesia after severe stress or trauma, and it's not as though a turaga or other Matoran could accompany them to give patient history. By using the Osili to sort through alternate lives, Karzahni could learn who a Matoran was, where they were from, what injury befell them, and what they would do after being repaired and sent home. It's a pretty elegant solution.

...Except, that's not the whole story. It can't be. Using the Osili like that is like using a sword to chop vegetables. Surely there's a better tool for the job, a better job for the tool.

Though Matoran stopped being sent to Karzahni's realm relatively early in history, stories about the Osili spread across the world. Mask makers, of course, attempted to reverse engineer it. A true copy was never made, but there are two confirmed cases of new masks made from these experiments. The mask of Foresight allows the user to glimpse a few seconds into the future and see the actions of those nearby, and the mask of Augury allows the user to know the percentage chance of a specified event or action occuring. Though it's unconfirmed, it is theorized the Calix and Sanok were also inspired by the Osili. These masks all have hefty drawbacks or limitations, but they are all incredibly powerful and versatile in the right hands. And they are all methods to divine the future.

And they are all pale imitations of the Osili.

There's another mystery about Karzahni. See, construction on the GSR and the constructs within began while the Dreaming Plague was at its height. It's become clear that the Great Beings didn't fully understand what caused it, nonetheless, they gave psionic shielding to many of the original constructs. Tren Krom was excluded, obviously, but shielding was given to the Mata Nui intelligence, the first generation of Makuta, members of the Hand Artakha, as well as the titan himself. The Order of Mata Nui later instilled this same shielding into their own members.

But why wasn't Karzahni shielded?

It's debated how Karzahni's lack of shielding factors into the Osili's hypothetical capabilities, if at all. Scholars can talk about the troubling implications, but Karzahni is long dead, the Osili presumed destroyed. It feels like they're making shadows to be frightened by. To look on the bright side, progress has been made on restoring the former inhabitants of Karzahni's realm. Slow progress, but progress nonetheless. Reportedly many of them are finding it easier to sleep at night, no longer tormented by nightmares. Or dreams of any kind, for that matter.

[dingodad]

speaking of the slime in computers, i did have a theory where limebloods were the biology psionics/biotech girls, and alternian biotech being rendered into this tightly controlled imperial apparatus obsoleted them. like some MRA fantasy "we'll replace women with sexbots that do all the cooking and cleaning and etc." thing. i mean a recuperacoon is basically a bed that makes itself every day. i don't think it works though, since the concept overlaps heavily with yellows.

i don't think it was ever necessarily the idea that goldbloods were THE technologised cast, at least as far as the comic proper was concerned; it was just key to sollux' character moreso than the other lowbloods in the cast, and when the cast expanded for hiveswap i guess that particular aspect of sollux is what got elaborated upon.

within the past couple of months over on @lime-bloods i have been talking about alternia as a robotised society where the roles of ALL technology are filled by living organisms, with lowbloods obviously chief among them. so i think it would be thematically appropriate if the limebloods' disappearance was somehow tied to their having been subsumed by the machine entirely. (for anyone who still doesn't know, for a while now i have been pushing my agenda that troll beds are filled with slime because they ARE computers!!!) but in this scenario the question would still mostly be a big "why"

i am intrigued by your approach though. i've always been really interested in the hoverboard in the first act of hiveswap that basically seems to be able to do anything xefros can do but better and yet never really seems to be addressed in that way lol. so i feel like if hiveswap is finally going to tell the limeblood story they could totally make "limebloods were killed off because better technology was bred that made them obsolete" work

[orcboxer]

I'm always reflavoring and recontextualizing the roles of villagers in my various minecraft builds because of how distasteful their whole deal is in the vanilla game. And I mean it's a sandbox, so recontextualization is an intended aspect of gameplay. So like when I move a villager to one of my towns, I write lil records under their name as if villagers were the ones who built the town and wrote the books. Pretty basic shit right, it works.

Iron farms are a bit trickier though. The most effective source of iron in the games comes from villagers. I know what you're thinking; no it ain't a soylent green situation, but that might almost be more palatable because the actual iron farms are basically Perpetual Fear Machines.

The idea is you build a tower, a real tall one, and at the top you got 4 villagers in small rooms, all living underneath a big wet platform. Don't worry about the wet part. The 4 rooms are arranged in a square, with no doors and only one open window facing toward the center of the square. Each room has one bed and one little workstation for enrichment, and of course the open window. Through the window, the villager can see the Horror.

The Horror is the thing at the center of the square, about 8 meters away from each window. It's a zombie that I've trapped. It can't move from the center. It snarls and gnashes its teeth at the villagers it sees through the open windows of the 4 cramped rooms surrounding it, but it can't reach them. The villagers do not like seeing the Horror, but they can't run because there's no door, only the open window. So they just anxiously pace around their cramped little room, the open window always in view, the Horror always just beyond it.

Now, when villagers are frightened, they exhibit a special, latent power; they unknowingly summon huge iron golems to protect them. Iron golems are powerful, smashing monsters into a fine powder within seconds. Problem is, the golems are too large to spawn anywhere but on top of the big wet platform. This is where the wet part comes in. The big wet platform is flooded with moving water. The moving water slowly pushes the golems toward a large hole. Once they slip, they fall all the way down the tower into a chamber that immediately melts them down and deposits the resulting iron ingots into storage.

So obviously this Perpetual Fear Machine is pretty unethical in the vanilla context of the game, so, not ideal. So to recontextualize them, I fashion them into research facilities. The villagers are scientists, researching and training their latent psionic abilities. They're running around their labs, not as a rabbit fleeing a fox, but as a busy researcher on the cusp of a breakthrough. The golems are tulpas, manifestations of their own psychic will, but ephemeral, unstable, dissolving after only a few seconds, leaving behind only iron husks -- the only part of the tulpa simple enough to fully cross over the veil into the physical world, the realm of object permanence.

Their ultimate goal, however, lies at the center of the facility, growling and shambling around in mindless stupor. A former colleague, a friend, a victim of a terrible virus that warps the mind and rots the flesh, trapping them in a state of hunger and undeath. They could kill them, of course, but they won't, they refuse. They built this facility to find a way to use their psychic powers to restore the mind of their old friend. If they can create iron from thought, jewels from conversation, then surely, surely they can help their infected colleague remember who they are. They just have to keep trying.

[monsieuroverlord]

X-Men- related Blood Hunt Issues!

source here

X-Men: Blood Hunt -- Psylocke

written by Steve Foxe, art by Lynne Yoshii, cover by Stephen Segovia

"Ninja vs. vampires! After serving on the frontlines in the war against Orchis, Kwannon is enjoying some much-deserved downtime with her new lover Greycrow. But when darkness falls across Japan, Psylocke will wield her psionic blade against blood-sucking creatures of legend and faces a foe unlike any she’s ever seen. An all-new villain emerges in the mayhem of BLOOD HUNT!"

X-Men: Blood Hunt -- Magik

written by Ashley Allen, art by Jesus Hervas, cover by Rod Reis

"Magik raises hell! Illyana Rasputina has returned to her homeland to search her soul and steel it for what comes next. But how will she protect her first home when a vampire army descends on Russia, seeking to turn it into a living hell? She may have been forged in the fires of Limbo, but has it prepared her for the Blood Hunt?"

X-Men: Blood Hunt -- Jubilee

written by Preeti Chhibber, art by Enid Balam, cover by Erica D'urso

"Fangs and fireworks! Running from the past is one race you'll never win—and as darkness suffuses the world, Jubilee’s past as a vampire is back to take a big bite out of her! It's gonna take more than a couple plasma bursts to get out of this one, Jubilation..."

X-Men: Blood Hunt -- Laura Kinney the Wolverine

written by Stephanie Phillips, art by Robert Gill, cover by Bjorn Barends

"Laura's bloodiest rescue mission yet! The vampires will stop at nothing in their bid for supremacy, including capturing mutants for hellacious experiments to boost their own power. But not on Laura Kinney’s watch! The Wolverine slices a swath through the vamps, but when she encounters the truth behind their machinations, will an unlikely ally prove to be more than she bargained for?"

[thewertsearch]

Trollian has been our constant companion for the last 500 pages - and now it symbolizes the end of our journey. It’s a nice way to bring things full circle.

Our color symbolism is starting to get a little tangled. Aradia and Karkat are represented by two colors now, and they alternate between both.

Looks like we’re picking up right where this flashback left off. Vriska is the one who will Make Her Pay - and 'Her’ refers to Terezi. 

Vriska is about to blind her - but what’s her play? She could easily have Sollux do it, but I’m sure he’s not the only wrench in her toolbox. Are we about to see some Dream Self shenanigans?

Tavros? 

Why would sh

SHE CAN FUCKING DO THAT? 

Sollux used psionics under Vriska’s control - but I assumed she needed the Mind Honey to activate them. Plus, Tavros has a much more sophisticated ability - he’s not just firing eye beams, he’s communing with another mind. 

And you’re telling me Vriska can do this by fucking proxy? This must be an incredible balancing act - like using a claw machine to operate the controls for another claw machine.

Talk about fine control. What the hell are this girl’s limits? 

It doesn't look easy, though. She can control people pretty casually, but this chained variant seems to be taking a lot out of her. Granted, she just lost an arm. 

Fuck, she just lost an arm. Can’t this wait till tomorrow, Vriska? 

Vriska is two steps ahead of me - I didn’t even think about using the dragon. She’s attacking Terezi, by controlling her lusus, by controlling Tavros, while bleeding to death on the floor. 

For all her faults, you can’t say she doesn’t have moxie. This is, quite frankly, astounding. 

[crazyskirtlady]

Summon the portal

We open the gate

We step through the doorway...

The world is unfolding

Phantasmagorical circuitry, photonic energy pulsing, bioelectrical feedback growing

Exotic matter blooming from behind our eyes, Out from our fingertips and growing, spreading

Countless micro singularities swelling, the information radiating, data in every form feeding evolutionary cycles

Down the well we plunge and activating as we focus

We become the strange attractor

We become the font from which the wellspring fills and flows

The Scintillating Scotoma parcels reality into forms of choosing

We realize new heights upon the steps as the ziggurat grows beneath us

Each new plane of thought discord in reaction and then finding place amongst the synchronicities we were seeking

Patterns beyond us that did come from within us and now we find ourselves dancing a tune that happens one step ahead

Happening

Happened

[understandableparadox]

tHE HOMESTUCK OC TUMBLR POLL TOURNAMENT!!! YOUR CONTESTENTS!

@ineffable-gallimaufry

Tamiss Eriism

They're my trollsona! Here's the bio I used for art fight:

Your name is TAMISS ERIISM.  

Flowing through your veins is good thick VIOLET blood. While you don't care much for the hemospectrum overall, you still find yourself admiring the way it looks. You think it is VERY PRETTY, you love living underwater, and the perks it gives you are TRULY ENVIABLE.

Perhaps connected to your high status within the hemospectrum is your MASSIVE GOD COMPLEX. In your opinion, you might be the best person on the entire planet, maybe even better than THE CONDESCE HERSELF. Though you probably wouldn't say that to her face. You'll prove your great power one day by overthrowing her so everyone will respect you for your TRUE POWER. Though that's not making very much headway. Maybe some day though, with your SICKLE in hand, you'll finally prove yourself.

You are ever so slightly obsessed with CULINARY and CRYPTOGRAPHICAL HISTORY. You are in fact quite fond of most HISTORIES, and take an interest in many forms of the PURSUIT OF KNOWLEDGE. You even model many aspects of yourself after HEROES you saw in your books. One, a cobalt blood, gave you a great appreciation of SPIDERS AND ALL SORTS OF INSECTS, though your lifestyle gives you hardly any opportunity to view any for real. There was another from the same place on the hemospectrum as you who you also found REALLY COOL. He inspired much of your personality such as your INTEREST IN DRAMA, ROMANTIC NATURE, and AMAZING HAIR STRIPE. Sometimes you even feel like you can HEAR THEIR VOICES but that's probably normal. Despite how TOTALLY COOL you are, people hardly tend to notice you. Once your plans are complete though, that WON'T HAPPEN ANYMORE.

You also like READING TOMES OF KNOWLEDGE. Though most of the knowledge is either on BEING A HUGE LESBIAN or MATH YOU DO NOT QUITE UNDERSTAND. Or communism. It is quite a ball though.  

Your trolltag is atlanteanAscension and you speak iin a wway remiiniiscent 8f y8ur favv8riite her8es.

Halpetasprite

She's just like... well it's like if Lil Hal got tossed into Nepetasprite instead of Equiussprite. he/she pronouns. 

--------------------------------------------------

@vi-timepiece

Luciol Lanten

Limeblood, mutant, based off a firefly. The stripes on her body can glow. She/it, nonbinary. Enjoys stargazing. Matesprits with Vichtr Unikke 

Vichtr Unikke

Supposed to be goldblood, is blackblood instead because mutation. Has difficulty controlling psionics. He/they, trans man. Likes robotics. Matesprits with Luciol Lanten

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Starlight-prism.tumblr.com

Chylia Merian

Handle: achromaticAdversary

Classpect: Sylph of Doom (Derse)

Pronouns: she/they

Chylia is a hemoanonymous limeblood troll (dancestor ghost) who is great with survival and fighting thanks to the sabertooth lusus that miraculously saved her from culling. She's very competent and was the only member of her Sgrub team to reach god tier. But they also take themself too seriously in such a way that they wind back to being silly! Like half of the things they do are for the aesthetic, to be honest. They wear a dramatic black mask and cape, and they use a giant machine gun to feel powerful and edgy. They used to dye their hair fully black, but now they partially dye it so the white roots can be partially seen. Chylia is a total edgelord and I love her and I hope you do too after reading this!

Full information and backstory here, as well as more art: https://toyhou.se/23778562.chylia-merian

Erizoh Stilde

Handle: pincushionsApex

Classpect: Knight of Rage

Pronouns: he/him

Erizoh is a jadeblood who rejected the role of his caste from an early age, faking his culling upon receiving invitation to come live in hiding with the heiress instead. He took up the hobby of plushmaking at the heiress's suggestion, and he also dabbles in cross-stitch and crochet. He's honestly pretty pretentious about his art, and is kind of an asshole, but in a certain "wet-cat" way that makes people like him regardless. He has a weird fixation with his grubhood self, specifically stabbing a plush version of it with pins. He was the first troll OC I made, and he came from a dream where he was trying to sell me a cow plushie and guilted me into buying it. I love Erizoh, he's such a loser.

More information here, as well as more art: https://toyhou.se/22085532.erizoh-stilde

----------------------------------------------------------

Venom draws on tumblr

Garlik Femara

A 9ft tall purple blood

She isn't the brightest (bimbo energy) and is all around friendly

She was "brainwashed" by the clurch because they saw her as a useful asset but she did not want to be a subjugulator and was showing signs of rebellion.

She is a killing machine but the circumstances are very specific, he trigger is a list. Most specifically a list of names but if given any list something in her brain is triggered to bring forward the highblood rage.

Nahlee Rovian

He is just silly.

He is just a guy who would eat a slice of cheese off of the floor, cheese of unknown origin. 

He is a sweet and funny guy and is way too easily trusting. 

If this guy was a playlist it would be "weird al" and "ninja sex party".

He smells funny.

No rizz.

--------------------------------------------------------

@chococookiez

Novasu Kirazi

- not pictured: her limeblood matesprit who she would kill for

- would overthrow the government and destroy the hemospectrum if they could

- WILL defeat you with the power of friendship and a gun she found

Mauami Sigera

- who is this creature and how did it get here

- perpetual °^° face and may or may not have arms

- it's just trying it's best

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@thehomestucker-surgeburbofficial

Gaemir Jurami

Your name is GAEMIR JURAMI. 

You tend to enjoy things like DIGGING UP FOSSILS and PRESERVED ORGANISMS. You also like to COLLECT COOL ROCKS you find outside your hive. Occasionally you will BREAK THEM OPEN to see if ANYTHING IS INSIDE. You enjoy watching DRAMATIC AND SAD FILMS from time to time, as well as ROMANCE MOVIES. Your favorite actor has to be by far, TROLL TOM HANKS.

On DIGCORB, your trolltag is skeletalTragedy and you tend to speak R4ther dully. In short, brief sentences. Usu4lly in 4 very serious m4tter.

He/They

Ceferi Fetris

Your name is CEFERI FETRIS.

You enjoy GARDENING. Mostly things like PUMPKINS or BEAUTIFUL FLOWERS that you give to your MATESPRIT and MOIRAIL. You also enjoy STARGAZING. It never fails to relax you. You tend to DRAW WHAT YOU SEE in the stars as well. Sometimes it's just MEANINGLESS SYMBOLS, other times it’s FULL SCENARIOS. You may even indulge in your hobby of PHOTOGRAPHY and TAKE PHOTOS OF THE STARS too. You also have a BIG LIBRARY, full of FICTION BOOKS, mostly the GOOD SCI-FI ONES and MAGICAL STORIES of WIZARDS.

Your trolltag is floralGallery and you speak wit>h hope and beaut>y in your heart. Al>l> is wel>l> in t>he presence of you.

(SIDE NOTE: She Is Also A Trans Woman!!!) She/Vir

-----------------------------------------------

@spaceypineapple

Fendir Sanqui

fendir's a bronzeblood adventurer who idolizes troll indiana jones! hes got a pretty large collection of artifacts and loves learning about history. he also really likes myths and legends!! hes a very emotional guy who wears his heart on his sleeve, though he often (unintentionally) ignores the emotions of others. he's very very silly.

Trenas Maladi

trenas is a rustblood author who has the worst case of writers block ever seen. she's very tired all of the time and comes off a bit harsh, but she means well!! she's very nosy and knowing other people's business. she's very good at giving out advice to people too. she enjoys monsters and romance stories ABOUT monsters.

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@hareofhrairHareofhrair

Shafan Nishal

Shafan has been around since 2015, making friends in the tumblr ftc! They're a Brer Rabbit pastiche, a laid back traveling musician, trickster and occasional smuggler, and they love nothing better than sharing a smoke, swapping a story, and stealing from rich folks. A more or less homeless vagrant they wander from place to place, breaking hearts and singing songs. They make friends wherever they go, but they have a powerful fear of commitment that keeps them from getting too close to anyone. As soon as someone starts looking too attached, they skip town, and boy can they run! Shafan is faster on foot across open ground than just about any troll alive, at least according to them, and they're always happy to prove it with a race. So if you've got a story to tell, a song to share, or you just need someone to deal you weed for a (mostly) fair price, look for the white haired rusty playing banjo on the corner and come say hello!

Popahv Arlech

Popahv came from an amazing homestuck ttrpg campaign called Binary System, which we even tried turning into a fanventure for a little bit there! Popahv is just a sweet little guy with some serious attachment issues. He loves his friends more than anything and thinks it's his responsibility to take care of them, whether they want him to or not. Add this to an exploit in the game giving him some extremely overpowered mind control powers, and Popahv becomes just a little problematic! He means well, honestly. He just wants everyone to be happy and peaceful and never ever leave him. Meet the original Friendship Yandere, Popahv!

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Mythfan12.tumblr.com

Meadys Serpin

A rustblood museum curator/rebel supplier, Sylph of Rage, living embodiment of customer service face hiding blind fury

Wessun Ghunne

Oliveblood living out in the desert since birth, Maid of Void, you know those background applications that you never see pop up but are vital to the computer running? that's him

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

@ask-swagger-dagger-trolls

Taluco Ialens

First started as a Trollsona, but after a while turned into her own thing and became a Fantroll. She is a Mutantblood due to some deep lore which will take to long to explain. She is an Artist and a big fan of fruity drinks

Soyuka Detoxa

Soyuka was a former escort in a corrupted church, with the help of Taluco (First Character Entry), she was able to turn the once brothel into a proper place of worship. She managed to be quaded with a Death God and a Rebel Leader...so...bonus bragging points for her. She speaks Alternian Spanish.

------------------------------------------------------------

@dzcool3

Teranz Zitchk

he found his own corpse in the woods and that made him a channer. he taxidermies badly and hates everyone. has a real self-pity complex

Kizats Hatrak

a member of the troll men in black. a wildly incompetent bully who still manages to make and believe wildly inaccurate conspiracy theories despite being behind many herself. She knows shes kind of a terrible person.  

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

@sekhmentson

Cysgod Quared

Mad scientist

Betroy Focalx

Local Horoscope Writer

---------------------------

@tasonix10 for tumblr and Tasonix12 on Twitter 8-]3

Noizod Explos 

Noizod Explos is the dancestor of Terriy Explos (My trollsona). Noizod is a troll with an interest of the weird and mysterious, mainly in mad scientists and old food mascots! Noizod is a heir of time/heart, a derse dreamer, And A rust blood. Their typing quirk is misspelling words sometimes and replacing every 7th word with the number 7.

Noizod has low psionics, yet is cursed with the visions of the past, which has led them to try and be like their ancestor, the Observer.

Noizod’s strife Kind is A yo-yo, and lacks a lusus.

Turpen Cansoi

Turpen Cansoi is an indigo blood that owes money to higher bloods, and because of this he’s been DEMOTED TO LOWER CASTE STATUS. Now he lives his life as a low caste blood and tries to make a Quick buck for a living. Turpen is either a maid/Page of breath And a derse dreamer.

There’s Not that much about Turpen other than that. Except the casino theme and being The Session starter, thus Why his trollian Tag is “wheezingCoupier”

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@ethersmith

Sutoka Reddol

4 foot 5. Lesbiab. About 9 sweeps old but sgrub.

A rustblooded thief and thief of void skilled in pocketpicking, lockpicking, parkouring, sneaking, knife throwing, yoyo tricks and flute playing. She happens to possess psionics that let her hide her horns and grip onto surfaces. She's also immune to most poisons. Except alcohol. She'll pass out at the slightest sip of alcoholic beverages. Gunfire stuns her. Her lusus is a rat and her typing quirk adds a lowercase letter after a capital letter. Llike Tthis.

Eeliza Lindel

8 foot. 11 sweeps old.

Just about the least competent fuchsiablood to live twice. Her skills include being okay at leadership, insulting lower castes and making enemies. Formerly the heiress of her planet Liesteria, now the boss of a mafia known as the Kalpon gang. Her lusus is a big ol' gaggle of eels that do not make the same enemies as her. Her quirk surrounds individual words in square brackets and duplicates the letter e.

---------------------------------------------------

@waffletardis

Sarnen Rambuc

Sarnen is a talented prankster, thief, and craftswoman. She mostly tinkers but loves to try inventing her own machines, staying positive throughout the trials and errors. Her favorite prank involves the use of her robotic hands hidden under her gloves, they are detachable, so imagine someone’s surprise when they try to give her a handshake and they seemingly pull her hand straight off! Despite her apparent hunger for shenanigans, she genuinely cares about others, and no one will earn the ire of her foolery unless they are rude to someone she cares about. (Such as her matesprit, she loves her matesprit so much she will not hesitate to tell someone about her matesprit) 

Idzill Stoatl

Idzill has a passionate love for art, and can be seen displaying many skills of the craft. Although Idzill is also quite impatient if they are not actively doing anything, and usually goes straight from a zero to one hundred when trying to solve a problem. Tongue gets stuck on something frozen? Try to skillfully use a knife. Art not making the money you want? Go straight to becoming a vigilante assassin… Idzill uses their dexterous skills to be quite the terrifying assassin, though they try their best to only accept hits for people they would consider bad. Idzill does not speak and uses signs 🪧 with their quirk painted onto them to communicate, that’s one way to view sign language i suppose…

----------------------------

Part 1

[deepdreamnights]

TyrannoMax

Real name: Tyrannodus Maximus (translation) Known Aliases: Ty Maxon, the Dinoman of Wisconsin, Shellbreaker Occupation: Champion of Core City, adventurer Identity: Public Legal status: Citizen of Core City. Legal resident of the United States with a criminal record (pardoned), escaped felon in Ultramerica. Species: Dinoid Tyrannosaurus Rex Place of Hatching: Core City Martial Status: Single, betrothed. Known Relatives: TyrannoLucian (father), MegaloDiana (mother), TyrannoMaxine (grandmother, deceased), TyrannoCass (brother), TyrannoJulia (sister), Lady StegoJune (fiance), DeinoSteve (blood brother), Tyler Wrex (second cousin). Known affiliations: Warriors of the Core (member, current), Sevenfold Guardians (member, reserve), Wally Manmoth (ally), Johannes Factotum (ally), WoMinotaur (ally), Dr. Underfang (nemesis), Department of Inhuman Affairs (contractor). Base of operations: Soapstone, Wisconsin, Core City in the Fossilized World. First appearance: Tyrannomax #1 (1975)

From the Coctus Catalog, it's TyrannoMax!

His power/ability box is under the fold.

Physical Strength: TyrannoMax’s strength is exceptional, even for a dinoid. He can lift (press) 10 tons with his arms or tail. Known Powers & Abilities: Like all diniods, TryannoMax’s muscles and bone tissues are more dense and durable than human analogues, resulting in vast strength and resistance to physical damage. His scales can deflect an armor-piercing .50 caliber machine gun fire at 30 feet. TyrannoMax’s bite force is sufficient to bend a 5” diameter titanium rod. His teeth and claws are both sharp and strong enough to rend metal, and he’s able to leap up to sixty feet forward or twenty feet straight up from a standing position. Like all dinoids, TyrannoMax possesses a high degree of psychic affinity, which he can access through his psychic roar. This unique psychic talent allows TyrannoMax to imbue his roars with psionic power. He can attune the pitch of his roar to deliver physical psychokinetic force, stun the minds of those in its path, or induce fear and panic in enemies. Known Weaknesses: Dinoid physiology is only partially warmblooded and is vulnerable to cold. Temperatures below 56 degrees Fahrenheiht reduce TyrannoMax’s speed, strength and concentration in direct proportion to his body temperature. If lowered to the freezing point gradually, he will involuntarily enter a state of hibernation. Rapid freezing is deadly to dinoids.

-

TyrannoMax's art was made in the same fashion as the Wally Manmoth comic, with his body being composited out of several Midjourney attempts and his head coming from Dall-E 3, since MJ's rexes are always too modern for the 70s throwback of Tmax.

From there the colors were removed entirely, and the new lineart touched up and then re-colored using the classic comic colors from the DC 1981 style guide. And then "vintaged" in the process.

[blackjackkent]

Narrator: The device is strange, made of taut flesh and pockmarked metal. It waits for something.

"The zaith'isk," Lae'zel murmurs reverently at Rakha's side. "Vlaakith's purity, distilled. My duty. My right."

Does she sense, as Rakha does, that something is wrong here? Surely she must. But Lae'zel is clever and knows far more of the world than Rakha herself. She must be right, surely... they cannot have come all this way for nothing...

[INVESTIGATION] Examine the device.

Narrator: The device is an ingenious synthesis of illithid anatomy and metal alloys. It hums with psionic energy, hinting at paths into unknown minds and unseen planes.

"Stand aside," Lae'zel insists sharply. "My time has come."

Of course, what else can she do but agree? They came this far. An intuition without any basis is not reason enough to change the plan that has brought them this far...

"Go ahead, Lae'zel," she mutters. "You've earned it."

Lae'zel's back straightens and a relieved smile flashes onto her lips. "Praise Vlaakith," she murmurs. "Let it be done."

She moves with swift, confident steps to climb into the zaith'isk's metal seat. The doctor smiles, watching her.

"Sit, child. Let the zaith'isk end your suffering."

-----

"I don't like this," Wyll mutters next to Rakha. "That woman smiles like a jackal."

"If she removes the parasite," Rakha says curtly, "she may smile as she pleases."

Shadowheart, on Rakha's other side, is watching Lae'zel climb into the mechanism, her eyes narrowed with unreadable intensity. "And if she doesn't? What then?"

"Then I will tear out her throat," Rakha growls, very low.

Shadowheart snorts softly. "Well. Glad to hear we have a plan, at least."

-----

Lae'zel settles herself in the seat of the zaith'isk and peers up warily at its strange, taloned "mouth" as it closes around her.

"You must focus on the parasite at all times," the ghustil instructs. "The zaith'isk will do the rest."

Rakha sees Lae'zel nod, open her mouth as if to ask a question - and then the machine activates with a burst of intense white light like a supernova.

Lae'zel lets out a hoarse shriek and Rakha and the others stagger as agony crashes through them, as if cords of molten iron bind their brains together and have suddenly pulled taut.

Narrator: An unseen blade cleaves your mind in two. Impossible pain sears your bones and body in concert with Lae'zel's.

Narrator: [PERCEPTION] The zaith'isk's psionic forces batter Lae'zel's thoughts. There is no chance she will survive this unscathed.

For a moment the world feels whited out, silent, blinding, and there is nothing but the pain. Rakha staggers, clutches at her temple, trying desperately to ground herself in her body. Dimly she becomes aware of Lae'zel's voice - but the words it speaks are nonsense, a chant without meaning.

"Vlaakith tavki na'zin. Vlaakith tavki na'zin!"

"Yes, child!" the doctor calls in gleeful encouragement, her eyes locked on Lae'zel's form writhing within the machine. "Speak the Tla'ket! Meditate on its verses!"

Narrator: You feel Lae'zel's mind rip and rupture. Is this purification? Is *this* the cure?

Rakha's heart is thundering in her chest, the beast roaring in her skull at the assault of excruciating pain. She can't think, can't focus - there are no words, nothing left to her except the vague, inarticulate understanding that something is terribly wrong. Her mind reaches out where her words cannot, finding Lae'zel's, the connection still tight and strong between them.

[WISDOM] Call on your parasite. Show Lae'zel what she stands to lose.

(A/N: DC30. Literally unpassable without a Nat20. Uh oh. D: )

For a moment their minds connect. For a moment she is inside Lae'zel's thoughts, trying to pull her free - and then a new pain, a blow from Lae'zel herself, lashing outward, knocking Rakha back on her heels as if she's been kicked in the gut.

"OUT OF MY HEAD!" Lae'zel roars.

Rage litters the lingering strands of connection between them. You would deny me in all other things, but would invade in this of all moments? How dare you? HOW DARE YOU!

Rakha flinches, lets out a hoarse breath like a sob as the pain closes around her mind again. There is nothing left to her but confusion and fear and that terrible, terrible light...

Narrator: You share in Lae'zel's agony. Every cell within her bursts into a constellation of fragments, sorted and reassembled. Lae'zel will die if she remains.

"Yes, child!" she hears the doctor call, audibly thrilled by the way this is playing out. "Ch'mar zal'a Vlaakith! Call to your Queen!"

Lae'zel spasms in the machine, her fingers clawing in vague motions at her face. "My Queen, hear me!" she shrieks, full of mad and desperate devotion that masks equally mad and desperate terror.

Clutching his head, Wyll staggers next to Rakha and falls to his knees. "That thing's killing her!" he gasps out hoarsely. "Do something, damn it!"

(A/N: I know I'm the player character, but objectively this is kind of brutally funny. YOU do something, Wyll, if it's that important. XD )

Narrator: Your vision narrows. You sense myriad specters of githyanki past. This is their fate. This is their anguish.

Rakha feels a chill go through her gut. Everything clicks into place at once and for a moment the pain is replaced with a thrill of exultation that comes from beyond her own thoughts, from the beast of the dark urge in her. How many souls have died within this machine? How many minds have been torn asunder in its grip?

[WISDOM] Seek answers within the zaith'isk. What is this vision?

Narrator: Lae'zel's life is laid bare among those that came before. her thoughts are turned to silver thread and relayed to the Astral Sea. The voices of the dead cry out as one. The zaith'isk collects memories from the infected - and executes them. It is not for curing. It's for killing.

(A/N: Last time with Hector I had him in the device instead of Lae'zel. It's actually interesting - from this external perspective, Rakha is given a much more explicit explanation from the narrator of how fucked up this is than Hector received while he was inside it. Which makes a certain amount of sense, I guess.)

It all makes sense now - all the strange behavior of the other gith, the doctor's nonchalant pleasure in Lae'zel's torment, even Rakha's own intuitive fear. In fact only one piece is out of place - Lae'zel's own confidence.

Lae'zel, who Rakha has trusted so deeply as a beacon of knowledge, has been wrong from the very beginning.

The beast keens with pleasure in her head as she feels the killing power of this machine. So many dead, snapped necks and broken minds... let her be the next, let her spinal fluid drip puddles on the floor as the light burns her from the inside out...

For a moment, Rakha feels the beast's rage consume her. She has been misled to come here. It was all a mistake. A trap. She should destroy them, all of them, even Lae'zel caught in the machine's jaws. She should kill and kill and kill until there is nothing and no one left...

But Wyll is at her side, on his knees, broken and battered by the pain flooding them all. With one hand he grips spasmodically at her arm, holding on tightly.

Do something, damn it, he said...

[PERSUASION] "I've seen the truth, Lae'zel..." she rasps out, feeling as if she pushes the words one by one past a wall the beast and the agony have erected together in her mind. "This device doesn't cure. It kills."

Lae'zel's eyes open very wide and Rakha can see every facet of the pain in her face - physical pain, yes, but also betrayal and grief and animal terror. "What?!" she howls. "Tsk'va!" She struggles in the grip of the light around her...

And Rakha feels it, deep in her mind - the stir of the artifact, the guardian's presence flooding up through her and outwards into Lae'zel, gripping her, pulling her free. The light recedes almost imperceptibly, and the noise of the zaith'isk takes on a sudden rattling whine as if some key piece has come loose within it.

As if fired from a cannon, Lae'zel bursts forward out of the seat, staggering out onto the floor in front of the device. And then...

...the zaith'isk erupts.

The explosion knocks Rakha entirely off her feet and onto her back, all the breath blasted from her lungs. For a moment she lays there, stunned and silent. The pain is gone and even the beast has gone silent - but her own rage, the true rage that sits outside the dark urge, is not so easily silenced.

This was a trap. This was all wrong. This has all been wrong, from the very start.