#There will be no peace in the neighborhood

[osama-family]

Hello, I am Osama Al-Anqar. My wife's name is Rana Al-Anqar. I have a little girl named Amal. My older brother's name is Mohammed. He was injured and had a meter of small intestine and a meter of large intestine removed. He now needs a joint transplant. My second brother, Mahmoud, was martyred in the Baptist Hospital massacre and left me with his wife and children, Razan and Mahmoud. Now I am responsible for them. My third brother, Ahmed, was injured and had his left leg amputated. He now needs a limb replacement. We lived in the Al-Shija'iyah neighborhood and we had a simple life, but the war destroyed everything. It destroyed our lives, homes, businesses, and cars. But I only need your support to save my family, treat my brothers, and live in peace. Your support, no matter what it is, will make a difference to us because we need money to provide food for the children. Save us.

[scrubbinn]

Mimic Memoirs: Walk with me

HRT month 23

The streets of Hyper city

Picking up Erian from a halloween party

The city lights had long since dimmed. Halloween had passed hours ago, and now Dr. Theodore Hans Erian was walking back home in the empty streets well past four in the morning. His form and general mood would tell anyone that he was completely wasted on alcohol.

A small round car rolled up slowly behind the doctor. Trying to keep pace with the erratic rhythm of a man who clearly had none, even when sober.

“Theo. Buddy.” Mayday called out in a tone that would normally be perceived as irritated, “could have sworn you said you’d wait at THEMS for me to pick you up. Why didn’t you wait?”

Theo shouted back in a boozy breath, “Ms. Maymay! How wonderful to see you here! The night is young. What is on the schedule?”

“The schedule says we’re getting you home, you lousy loon. Seriously, I can’t believe you decided to bring a whole bottle of gin with you to a halloween party. IN A CARE CENTER OF ALL PLACES!!” She said, trying not to wake the whole neighborhood.

Mayday pushed open the car door in the back and dragged Erian into it. She let out a sigh as she confirmed no one was watching and mistaking this for a kidnapping. 

She scowled at him. “Fine, whatever. I am too tired for this. What was your address again? 350 something street. Ugh, forgot it’s like half an hour away. Ok, well, just make sure you’re comfortable. Don’t spill anything in my car, or I’m making you pay for a new one.”

“Well if it makes you feel any more comfortable. It was a travel sized bottle.” He spoke with the certainty that this would make Mayday happier to hear.

Erian began to mutter. “No, not the needles…”

The small round clunky car puttered out onto the empty streets. The lights of the city streamed into the car like flowing water in slow motion. The sounds of the city were barely present with only the hum of the engine to keep the two company. Soon, the street lights grew dimmer as the apartments and offices disappeared. Eventually, the number of street lights were equaled by the number of trees. It had already been 15 minutes before something caught her attention.

She called to him, “Theo? Are you asleep?” 

Erian muttered again “look out Mayday… I'll save the… snore”

An eye peered from the back of her neck. She saw his face smooshed against the car window and completely conked out. Mayday briefly thought about recording this. Her boss, drunk and asleep. Arguably one of the most important people in Hyper city, having a bad dream.

She couldn't help but smile. “Thanks for the save, I owe you one.”

“You have to go now…”

Mayday froze for a second. “I'm sorry, what did you say there boss?”

“...go now, I don't want… look at you.” Erian's mutterings grew fainter, turning into light snores.

Mayday’s grip on the wheel grew tighter. “Mood killer,” she said.

The suburbs of Hyper city were dark. Barely a single light remained on. Anyone from a world that had halloween had already snuffed out their pumpkin's flames. The only motion was the cold winds blowing winter inward. Every so often, it howled off of knot holes and windows. It was oddly calming tonight. The screaming cold winds made it too loud for Mayday to get stuck in her thoughts. It should feel moody and frightening. Instead, it was just peaceful.

“No, no, no, no!!!” Mayday screamed as she rushed out to check the damages.

Suddenly, the car's engine began to sputter. Smoke rose from the hood as the car slowly came to a stop.

He cleared his throat and spoke confidently. “Allow me, Ms. Mulberry. It may have been a long time ago, but I know a thing or two about motor vehicles.

Erian, now awake from the smell and the shouts, tried to get a bearing of his surroundings. He saw the hood pulled up and decided to follow. His assistant, fanning away smoke as she stared in horror, clearly unfamiliar enough with cars to have no idea where to start.

She looks at him with suspicion. “Look I appreciate your help, but I don't trust a drunk to fix my car.” 

“Oh, you can see the damage right here. It looks like you have a gas leak. I know a good temporary fix,” he said as he ignored her. “This will just take…”

He spent the next few minutes attempting to keep his hands steady, holding out a scrap of cloth. Eventually, Mayday had to tie it around the leaky tube herself.

“Ah, perfect. Just another nugget of wisdom for you,” he said. “Now that will hold for a day. Do you have a spare tank?”

“This isn't a minivan, I don't pack spare gas in my car. I'll have to push it to the nearest station.”

“You steer. No offense, but I think you're a little too old for this sort of manual labor,” she smirked.

“I'll help you push Ms. Mulb-waugh!” Erian was cut off as Mayday gently pushed him into the driver seat.

He fought back, “I'll have you know these gray hairs are from stress, not age.” 

Her smug aura grew even more at that comment. Retorting, “That's sad. Guess you can relax in the car seat as you steer. Have fun Dr. Drunk driver.”

“So… How was your party?” He spoke.

The car slowly trotted along the road. Erian stuck inside, keeping the vehicle moving straight ahead. After a time of awkward silence, he rolled down the window.

“After you ignored my warnings and nearly got yourself killed. I warned you about using that book. But no one listens to the trained professionals!” He shouted.

Mayday grunted out each sentence in time with a step. “Eh, it was ok. Met some friends again. We got to chat for a while. They helped clean up. Honestly though. I hate parties. I just needed to be around people. After. You know.”

Mayday made note that Erian doesn't seem to have a filter when under the influence.

“Sorry. You were right. It was a dumb idea. You get one win.” she said.

He turned to look at her with fire in his eyes. “I deserve a hundred. Do you know the effort I put into my life's work?! I'm the best doctor ever! And no bone headed patient or government official is going to take me down!”

Mayday can't help but smile at his own bone headed statements. He's allowed a little bit of pride.

“How do you do it boss?” she asked

He thought about it for a bit before responding. “Well first a witch will find you.”

She blinked. “What? No. I mean, how do you get proactive in a community? I want to know how you make such a big impact on the world. My friends, the people at the party. They're active, they make changes they want to see, they don't run in fear, and they stand and fight. They impact the whole world with a single step forward. I've only gone backwards.”

Erian let out a loud sigh and mumbled to himself, “What a time to start sobering up.”

He gently pressed down on the brake pedal and stepped out of the car. He stared at Mayday for a few seconds, thinking of the words to give her.

At last he spoke, “I'll help push, I know you can steer and push at the same time.”

He took off his lab coat and placed it on Mayday's shoulders. It barely had any effect on the frigid night, but it was a nice gesture regardless, and despite her protests, the extra muscle helped move the car along faster, even if Mayday could tell she was still putting in most of the work.

Mayday couldn’t help but stare at him in confusion. “What fortune cookie did you steal that ridiculous thing from?”

Eventually, the two made it to the gas station, and Mayday started pumping gas into the tank. Erian walked out of the store with a bag of doughnuts and other assortments. The coffee stains in his mustache showed he was fully sober at this point.

“You know what, Ms. Mulberry, I gave some thought to your question. I think you're undervaluing yourself a bit. Often, we hear about the exploits of others and think very little of our own deeds. Sometimes, a simple kind gesture is all you need. Just because you haven’t seen it, doesn’t mean your words haven’t saved others. Small kindnesses are what let your friends do big things.” He spoke with certainty as he handed Mayday a pack of heat pads.

“I’m offering you the sage advice of experience! You should be grateful!” He barked.

“Ah, there’s the Erian I know.”

The sun had started to rise as light reflected off the metal signs of the gas station. Cutting clear blue sky throughout the scenery.

Erian bit into one of his doughnuts and, after some grumbles, decided to reply, “Well if you must know. I learned that sort of thing from all of you. You don’t spend your best years helping a group like yours without having some understanding rub off on you.”

The ground was all Mayday could look at in response to his words. “I’ll… I think I’ll keep what you told me under consideration for now.

He stared longingly into the distance. “Now then, I think I can manage a walk back home from here. Give me a call if anything comes up at the clinic today. I might be asleep, though.”

“I’m sorry, what did you say? You think I’m letting you just take a day off when I spent an hour searching for you to begin with? My car is busted. I deserve the day off. If I don't see you in that building in four hours, I will end you,” she spoke calmly.

Mayday looked at him with a smile across her face, now with a better understanding of her boss.

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

Erian smiled as he walked off into the sunrise. And then proceeded to walk faster as Mayday gave chase. Confident that everything would be ok, and that he could lose her in the suburbs eventually.

Mention list: @a-shramp, @calliecwrites, @be702, @respectfulevil, @hyacinthdoll1315

@aster-is-confused, @bloodandbrandywyne, @glitchgloop, @nyxthewary, @lunadook,

@celestemysterios, @i-am-trans-gwender, @reliablegal, @bookmothic-dyke

[homestuckreplay]

Pagecount: Over 900

(page 886-902)

With 17 pages, 11/22/2009 is the longest Homestuck update by number of pages to date. It contains not one but TWO huge story developments: the ominous planet and the Peregrine Mendicant.

Ominous Planet

Just as WV told us, the ominous planet is bright purple and lies ‘beyond an impenetrable veil of darkness’ (p.704/886).

Dad is here!! I think a lot of the sudden character transitions in Homestuck actually make sense – we went from John thinking about going into his dad’s room, over to Dad himself. He barely appeared in Act 2, getting kidnapped by the imps at the start and breaking out of his trick handcuffs at the end, and now he easily bests them. Clowning is a physically demanding pursuit so Dad must be well in shape beneath the business clothes, because he launches one imp right through the wall.

We also meet an imp security guard (?) who’s wearing similar but more intricate harlequin gear.

They’re watching Dad fight the imps and somehow also watching John battle the ogres, through a pair of windows similar in design to ‘one of [Jade’s] GRANDPA'S more mysterious inventions’ (p.790), the freestanding window on Jade’s gadget table. There is apparently no end to the number of people watching John.

He looks kind of familiar. On page 833, we’re introduced to the full Midnight Crew as the sky switches from blue to bright purple. And comparing these face shapes and designs side by side, these two characters feel like they could have something to do with each other. They’re both really angry, as Spades Slick’s answer to everything is violence, and this new guy refers to the other imps, John and Dad, or both as ‘graveyard stuffers’ (p.891). It’s the only text we get in relation to the character. The narrator apparently has nothing to add and no witty comment on that thought of theirs. There’s then a quick cut where seeing the next page title ‘You are now…’ suggests that we’re about to become this guy, but we instead suddenly become-

Peregrine Mendicant

THE MAIL HAS ARRIVED. Mail, packages and deliveries are a recurring motif – there have been several important colorful packages, several envelopes containing discs, and now there is a letter to Dr. David Brinner, ATTN: SERIOUS BUSINESS. Serious Business is of course the messaging client that Dad uses to keep in touch with his troupe, and we just returned to Dad in the story, so is this finally the moment that wellPressedAttire or officeurchin1280 take their starring role in the narrative? It’s definitely a person in John’s neighborhood but not Dad himself, as we’ve seen the insides of the Egbert mailbox.

PM’s mail based tirade (p.894-896) is of course reminiscent of WV’s mayoral calling (p.686) and PM’s adoption of the hat is just like WV making their sash. So there’s something to say about these chess pieces arriving at these Skaian bunkers and immediately adopting an institution of society as critically important. Both PM and WV’s monologues read as very idealistic, imagining these overly simplistic societies that function like textbook diagrams, as though they know about these things from books similar to WV’s Human Etiquette tome and have never been part of an actual human society. Comparing the two, WV’s monologue feels more peaceful, as it’s focused on everyone getting along, mutual respect, civility and a kind leader. PM talks of soldiers, a crusade, defenders and hope among the ashes; it’s far more violent and adventurous, and feels more grounded in harsh realities even while it maybe overestimates the mail’s capability.

Which is not to criticize the mail or PM’s speech, because I think they’re both great. I agree that mail is very important, highly underappreciated, and I think it’s beautiful to explore an empty wasteland and to think ‘if there are any people left here, I need to make sure they can communicate with each other’.

Looking stylish in their new hat, PM loads their terminal and tries to greet Jade the same way WV commanded John. Jade is already covered by a lot of green static, but it appears to be snowing where she is, with flakes and drifts behind her. Which is weird in itself, because Jade is close enough to the equator that a quick search suggests it wouldn’t snow in her area no matter the time of year, especially not with the geothermal power near her house. But it gets weirder, because when John resisted a command he just felt frustrated and got a headache as he tried to ignore a weird voice in his head. When Jade resists a command, she apparently blows up the command station with lightning that she transmits through time and space. Yet another way that Jade is weirder and more powerful than the other characters.

> PM: Sacrifice yourself to save the mail.

[jessicas-pi]

Also because I'm totally predictable, Kanera in a investigating the existence of paranormal creatures/beings au? But only if it sounds fun, otherwise feel free to skip it! I won't be offended at all

ok SO I am still working on the first ask you sent but I got ran over with the steamroller of inspiration on this one so i'm doing it first! pay no mind to the fact that this is three months late

---

Kanan was, by far, the worst fey-hunter the world had ever seen.

He considered that an accomplishment.

After all, if he could manage to lose every thread, disappear every clue, and snuff out each hint of an otherworldly presence, and people still kept bringing him tips on possible fey... well, that meant his glamour was working, then, didn't it?

The fact was, it had become a dangerous world for Fair Folk like himself. It hadn't always been that way. A thousand Earth-years ago, the wicked fey had been banished from the Winter Court, and the peaceful members of the Unseelie race had flourished. For much of his youth, Kanan had lived with his adopted mother in the Winter Court, making occasional sojourns into the human realm—missions of mercy, lending their extraordinary help to the ordinary humans who most needed it.

Then, the Dark Unseelie returned, and bathed the Winter Court in blood. Kanan had barely escaped with his life. He tried, first, looking for safety in the Summer Court, but unlike the Unseelie—who needed no prompting to act, whether for good or evil—the Seelie operated on the strict principle of tit-for-tat. And the Summer and Winter courts had been feuding since the death of the only king they shared, with plenty of bad blood on either side.

Needless to say, the Seelie were not inclined to foster a pathetic, half-dead Unseelie whelp.

Especially not when it would earn them the wrath of the new Emperor of the Winter Court.

So, Kanan did the only thing he could—he left his Name far behind, and he did his best to lose himself in the indulgences and dissipations the human race had to offer.

For ten years, that was his life.

Then, he met Hera, and everything changed.

She'd pulled him out of a pit of despair he hadn't known he'd fallen into. She brought light and hope back into his miserable existence. She gave him a new life.

She also stubbornly refused to believe in the Fair Folk.

And she was married to one of them!

But nothing could convince her. Not Kanan's inability to tell lies. Not the many encounters with people who looked a little wrong—strange patterns on their skin, or ears that were too pointed, or teeth that were too sharp. Not the neighborhood kid who slept on their couch sometimes, a boy with eyes that were paranormally blue and an instinctual aversion to telling anyone his real name.

Even the fact that said boy vanished into the mists one eerie morning—with no clue left behind except a cryptically-worded note that implied he would be attempting to contact the Fair Folk—left her dubious at best.

"There has to be a rational explanation for this," she insisted, swinging her flashlight back and forth through the trees. "He can't have vanished into thin air. He just can't have. That's not how this works."

"It's exactly how this works," Kanan replied grimly, working hard to keep down his panic as he marched through the woods a pace ahead of her. "Ezra's been taken by the Fair Folk."

Hera frowned. "I don't believe it."

Kanan shook his head at her persistent doubt and proceeded onwards.

The fact was, whether the fey who had taken the kid belonged to the Summer Court or the Winter Court—it didn't matter. Ezra's life could be in danger in either place. Kanan could only hope to find the divide in the misty veil that separated the realms from each other, go in after him, and maybe—maybe—bring him home safely. And that was only if Ezra hadn't eaten anything, accepted any gifts, thanked anyone, or made any binding agreements.

"There!" Hera cried out suddenly, flashing her light at the ground ten feet ahead. "Footprints!"

She broke into a sprint, following their path, and Kanan darted after her. After all, there was a chance they weren't too late—they might be able to get to Ezra before he encountered any fey.

A strange feeling prickled up his spine, the only warning he had before they burst into a small clearing in the woods. He skidded to a stop and snagged Hera's arm, yanking her backwards, before she could go any farther.

"Kanan, what—"

Hera broke off as she saw the thing Kanan had feared most.

The tracks ended abruptly—with no trace of where Ezra could have gone—on the border of a circle of mushrooms.

"So," Kanan said grimly. "Believe me now?"

---

part one || part two || part three

[ikkimikki]

The neighbors are getting a new roof. I know this because of the banging that started out there at 6:30 this morning.

I am also angry at this time.

A drawing of this thing. She's fine. She's okay.

[sagent-of-chaos]

advanced algebra equations

[scopophilic1997]

scopOphilic_micromessaging_1030 - scopOphilic1997 presents a new micro-messaging series: small, subtle, and often unintentional messages we send and receive verbally and non-verbally.

[girlactionfigure]

jonahplatt

“If you show up [in a Jewish neighborhood] wearing a kaffiyeh, you show up there with your face covered, you show up there chanting ‘River to the Sea’, that would be like a white person running up with a Confederate flag in Harlem. You’re not trying to start a conversation. You’re trying to start a fight.” - The always clarion, always compassionate @vanjones68 on the red line between protesting a policy and attacking a people.

[bellshazes]

if I have any unpopular minecraft opinion at all its that I think it should stop updating at some point and probably not that far from now. for all people bitch and moan about insufficient updates minecraft is a miracle in that it’s mostly free of the issues of modern "live service" games - although bedrock particularly has its microtransaction marketplace. but over a decade of free updates is offset by the bald truth that the only reason it gets updates (all of which you can revert since past versions including snapshots are always available!) is to feed the obsession with the game and, circularly, the internet content vortex made by people who love the game/can profit off others' love of it which generates more people who discover and love the game, which is how sales can be made when by and large the player base makes one purchase that nets them years of new content.

I love the new updates, I look forward to them, I've spent money on EA games as an adult so I'm very grateful they come to me for free. but their purpose is to ensure mc stays relevant and selling - itself, merch, spin-off games, etc. I don't envy the devs who are crushed between player entitlement to always more and corporate interests whose large scale preoccupations with brand integrity are more poisonous than any irate yt commenter yelling about how not vanilla 1.56 is going to be. basically I hope it dies before it gets crushed under the weight of cultural and capitalistic sicknesses it already has and that the often intolerable, crass sentimentalism of its fan base allows people to see its ceasing to update as a gift and not taking away what they're owed.

[orbitalsilly]

made this because i saw the second image while looking at ricky the sock puppet images on here :3

[fangsandfeels]

Whenever I try to put Astarion and "domestic life" in the same sentence, this is the only result i can imagine:

[tricoufamily]

once again thinking about how easy it would be for me to be in a relationship if i was cis

[unforth]

I just said this in a comment to a mutual, but I think it bears saying publicly, and this is the only thing I'm going to say publicly on this topic.

I think, and have thought for a long time, that Israel is wrong.

But that doesn't mean I think Hamas is right.

[xpl0r]

Arcade,NY

[lanadel-heyyy]

only seven blocks away yesterday 🥺😔

[athenaismdb]