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(Disclaimer: I am not an economist, and if anyone reading this is an economist, please correct me.)

I feel like the GDP of Westeros must have dropped at least 10% this episode. King’s Landing is one of the few major port cities on the continent (others probably are Oldtown, White Harbor, Lannisport, and Gulltown), and the closest one to most of the Free Cities. It’s now basically worthless.

And yes, the Iron Bank got all of Highgarden’s gold already, but my sense is that only took care of the Iron Throne’s immediate debts and there’s probably still a good deal outstanding. Plus, any investments they’ve made in business ventures involving King’s Landing are now write-offs. Add to that the inevitable political instability that comes with losing a capital city, and business prospects in Westeros start looking really grim. TL;DR I hope the show ends with repo men from the Iron Bank hauling the Iron Throne (if it still exists) and deeds to all of Westeros’s major castles off to Braavos.

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Have you considered.... magical girl Sorin?

Magical Girl Sorin and Nahiri given their magical powers by Ugin, but they wind up using their powers to get into fights I stead of saving people because, oops, they hate each other.

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*heavy dragon breathing*

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MtG Month of the Ship, Day 5 - "I Love You”

Emrakul returns to bring you another story of romance in the multiverse! Today it's a pairing that has become possible thanks to War of the Spark, and that I am rapidly developing an obsession with, Domri x Vivien.

One benefit of being sealed in a moon is that nothing disturbs my thoughts. It is far better than the noisy entropy of the world below, and is also a decent improvement over being trapped in stasis on Zendikar with Ulamog and Kozilek. Especially Ulamog. He snored. And without such disturbances, I am free to think on the nature of the planes and their inhabitants, and to look in on them from time to time. I have come to be particularly interested in the development of the deeper relationships that the plane-bound seem to have with each other, and the emotions associated with those relationships. It strikes me that I should perhaps investigate how these patterns emerge in the younger members of these species. And there is one in particular who presents a particularly interesting case...

“Wooooo!” Domri stood up on the back of his rendhorn, pointing his staff at the nearest intact section of stone wall. The stampede of war-boars around him charged straight through it, smashing its cleanly-cut bricks into pebbles. “For the Clans! For Nicky B! For freedom!” He’d stolen that battle cry from a Boros angel that he’d knocked out of the air the previous day. Well, originally it was “For the Legion, for Ravnica, for freedom”, but screw the Legion! Screw Ravnica! And what did the Boros know about freedom, anyways?

Sigh. Another human dead-set on destroying things other humans have built. Why do they do that? Time’s arrow, entropy’s pull, and sometimes things like me impose enough destruction on the world, yet somehow humans find ways to add to it.

On the other side of the now-nonexistent wall stood a Selesnyan vernadi, its marble chambers and staircases curling around and through the branches of the tree at its center. Domri spat at it. Whoever built this thing deserved to be impaled by an arynx. Even if the top dragon hadn’t asked Domri to annihilate the place, he probably would’ve done it anyways. No tree deserved this kind of disfigurement. Plus, there was always a chance he’d attract the attention of--

A bellow from his left, followed shortly by the squealing of boars, grabbed Domri’s attention. A ghostly green bull, larger than any Domri had ever seen on Ravnica, was barreling through his mob of boars, tossing them left and right. Just behind it, a trio of slender maaka, the same ghostly green, leapt from boar to boar, surgically ripping out each one’s throat. And a little bit beyond them, oh please let it be her, there she was! Vivien… Domri made a note to himself to ask if she had any more names… strode through the space that her animals had cleared, flanked by a pack of spectral wolves, of which she was clearly the alpha.

Domri felt himself blush, and didn’t even mind. He’d first seen Vivien a few days ago, when she’d summoned an immense lizard of some sort that had whipped a hellkite to death with its tail. She’d only lingered for a moment before she was called away by another of the “resistance” - that was how Domri had learned her name - but in that moment he’d already known that he wanted to find out more about her. So since then, he’d been directing Gruul scout parties specifically to follow her, under the pretense that Bolas was interested in capturing her. Not that he would ever actually tell the big N.B. where she was. She was far too beautiful to become just another one of the dragon’s playthings. Instead he’d followed the scouts’ reports himself, and managed to catch a few glimpses of her before, each time, she vanished into whatever concealment was around. And each time, Domri felt that same hard-to-describe feeling, akin to the excitement of demolishing an Azorius library, but so much better.

Well, it’s rather reassuring to know that at least someone else in the multiverse is as confused about this feeling as I am right now. Perhaps it is this way with all the youth among the plane-bound, perhaps they all begin without good words for this sensation.

And now here she was, finally, paying attention to him! Domri let out a yell, half out of battle rage and half out of excitement, and channeled a spell through his staff, turning the entire horde of boars and other beasts under his command to focus fully on Vivien and her small pack. She noticed this shift immediately and called her animals back to her with a quick hand gesture. Still with a look of total calm on her face, she drew her bow, conjuring a brilliant green arrow, and raised her gaze to look right into Domri’s eyes. The warm feeling around Domri’s cheeks intensified, and, looking away just so slightly, he channeled that feeling into a shouted command. “Charge!”

The battle was over within minutes. Corpses of boars lay in heaps around the Selesnyan courtyard, blood running out and staining the white marble flagstones. Domri’s rendhorn, too, lay dead, its neck crushed by the jaws of one of Viven’s enormous lizards. That lizard was now continuing the destruction of the Selesnyan temple, which made Domri feel oddly giddy. Domri himself was caught in the claws of another lizard, his feet dangling inches above the ground, his staff out of reach. Vivien, barely even winded, stepped over a few corpses to stand eye-to-eye with him. She was more beautiful up close, Domri thought, and looked even better covered in blood.

Vivien retrieved a knife from her belt and held it to Domri’s throat.  “Servant of Nicol Bolas. Do you have any last words?” Her voice was stern and measured. It had the same air of authority that Borborygmos’s voice had had, though with none of the spittle and stench. Domri opened his mouth, but no words came out.

“None? Then your death will be silent and--”

“W-wait!” Domri’s voice cracked. The thought of dying this way felt surprisingly okay, but at the very least he was going to tell her. “I think -- I think you’re beautiful!”

“What.”

“I just think, the way you move so gracefully, it’s like a prime maaka on the hunt,” the words rushed out of him almost uncontrollably, “and how you can command your pack so perfectly, and all the different animals that you can call on, it’s so amazing. It makes my heart go all funny. Vivien, I think I love you.”

Domri felt Vivien’s grip on her knife tense, and then loosen. She tucked it back into its sheath on her belt. Then, with a silent gesture, she called a pair of wolves to her side and instructed the lizard to drop Domri. “Uh, um… I guess, thank--”

“Go tell your master Vivien Reid is coming for him.” She seemed as calm as ever. What did that mean? Did she feel the same way? “Now.”

“Ahhh-- yeah. Right.” Domri turned around to hide his silly smile. Reid! She’d told him her surname! “I’ll just… I’ll tell him. Um.” He turned back around to see Vivien still staring at him. “Maybe… see you soon?” With that, he broke into a dash and leapt over the remains of the wall his boars had destroyed earlier. He’d see her again. He’d make sure of it!

It may be a crucial point to note that the statement “I love you” correlated with the highest peak of that bonding emotion that has been of interest to me. It is, of course, not the first time I have heard those words spoken. Though in the past usually I have heard them in association with a person’s last moments, quite often before one of my extensions claimed them and their companions. I wonder if, in light of my new knowledge that that statement carries such emotional impact, I should feel worse about that.

In any case, “love” seems as good a term as any to stand in for this bright, sweet-tasting emotion of connection. Love. Love love love. A good word. I suppose I shall go looking for more of it.

The above is unofficial Fan Content permitted under the Fan Content Policy. Not approved/endorsed by Wizards. Portions of the materials used are property of Wizards of the Coast. ©Wizards of the Coast LLC.

[incubatordruid]

MtG Month of the Ship, Day 3 - First Kiss

Something shorter today, without the bizarre Emrakul commentary. 

“Baishya! Tae Jin!  I’m back!” Naiva trod into the makeshift camp that they had set up near the entrance to the chasm, carrying a haunch of elk over her shoulders. She had buried the rest of the animal in the snow where it had fallen; it would be food enough for them for at least the next week. “Baishya! Tae Jin!”

Hearing no reply, Naiva set down the elk leg next to the fire pit and started to look around for her sister and the ghostfire warrior. It was not too unusual for Baishya to be absent on her return from a hunt, typically because she had heard Ugin’s spirit calling and gone into the chasm to commune with the dragon. Tae Jin, though… he was almost always there to welcome her back. If she was being honest with herself, Naiva preferred the times when she returned to find Baishya gone and Tae Jin there, since those were the times when she could sit shoulder-to-shoulder with the Ojutai warrior, maybe slide her fingers in between his, without Baishya teasing them incessantly.

“Tae Jin! Baishya! Where are--” Naiva rounded a small stand of pine trees and saw Tae Jin sitting cross-legged on the snow, eyes closed, bare chest rising and falling as he breathed in some rhythmic pattern. Naiva felt a rush of blood warm her face as she slowly walked closer, knelt down next to him, put her face within inches of his so that she could feel his breath moving in and out. It smelled faintly of that sweet root that he always chewed on.

Could she kiss him? She’d daydreamed about it a dozen times during the past five days, but between hunting and Tae Jin reciting his visions and Baishya being around, there had never been a chance quite like this. But should she? It would interrupt his meditation, would he hate her for that? She bit down on her lip, trying to sort through all the feelings in her head.

“Ah. Naiva. Welcome back.”

Naiva let out a loud squeak as she stumbled backwards. Her left foot caught against a stone under the snow and she teetered--

--and then felt Tae Jin’s supple arms close around her back, holding her upright. “Careful, there. If you break your leg, Baishya and I might starve!” Naiva opened her eyes and looked up at Tae Jin’s face. He was smiling in that way he did when their fingers touched, and his cheeks were slightly pink, though less pink than Naiva knew her own cheeks must be.

“I-- I’m sorry, you just--”

“Don’t worry. You know, you are especially pretty when you’re surprised.” Tae Jin leaned forward just enough to touch his lips to hers. Naiva’s heart shot into her throat, cutting off anything she might have said in response. But that was fine. This was fine. She could stay like this for--

“HA! I KNEW IT!” That was Baishya’s voice, and now Baishya’s laugh. “Oh, Fec owes me his next carved bear tooth. I told him you two wouldn’t make it a week without getting in each others’ faces!”

Naiva and Tae Jin hurriedly separated, both staring at Baishya, who stood leaning against a pine tree, a triumphant smile on her face.

“Baishya, you--!”

The above is unofficial Fan Content permitted under the Fan Content Policy. Not approved/endorsed by Wizards. Portions of the materials used are property of Wizards of the Coast. ©Wizards of the Coast LLC.

[incubatordruid]

MtG Month of the Ship, Day 2 - First Date

Emrakul continues her exploration of mortal relationships with a distinctly different couple (thanks to Nicky Drayden!). This got away from me a bit length-wise... [edit: day 2, not day 1.]

I turn the bright feeling over and over, rotating it until I am sure I have seen it from every angle, until I am sure I have never grasped anything quite like it from a mind before. But then, my experience with the plane-bound has been rather limited. Mostly they either fled from me or worshipped me. Both are satisfying enough, but this -- something -- that I picked out of the minds of the elf and her pyromancer companion is neither fear nor awe. Is it something unique to them, perhaps? Or to those few who can cross the Blind Eternities?

I decide there is only one way to find out. I reach out again, back into Ravnica, but this time I avoid those brightly-shining sparks and settle my tendrils on two other minds. Less brilliant, perhaps, but no less deep.

“How did you manage to get a table here during the Festival of the Guildpact? It’s usually booked weeks in advance!” Zita gives Kodo a playful punch as an impeccably-dressed imp leads them to their booth at the edge of the dining area. Even though one is dressed in scandalously close-cut attire and the other is, plainly, a demon, they attract little notice among the crowd of other patrons.

Kodo flashes a sharp-toothed grin. “Let’s just say I’m still owed a favor or two from that prison thing we did.” He gives Zita’s hand a little squeeze as they sit down.

Ah, something else that hands can do. I should try growing some of those next time I’m corporeal. Tentacles are getting a bit stale.

“Still, Pivlic’s New Kitchen! The most romantic restaurant in the Undercity! You know, they only serve dishes for two? I thought for sure the only way I’d ever get in here is if we burned it down during a Ragefest!” Zita grabs a breadstick from the basket on the table and takes a huge bite. “I mean, free breadsticks! Are we ‘free breadsticks’ type of people now?”

“For tonight, at least!” This dinner is definitely going to put a dent in their budget for the month, Kodo thinks, but it’s worth it. As the waiter-imp pours them glasses of (sparkling!) water, Kodo’s eyes meet Zita’s. Those perfect dark eyes set perfectly against that perfect red makeup...

There it is again, that brightness. Somewhat different with these two than it was with Chandra and Nissa, the taste is more of smoke and blood, but the positivity is the same. I note that eye contact seems to be associated with these bright, positive feelings. I should grow some eyes next time, too. But where?

“You know… is it really okay for us to be here? I’m not really used to places like this.” Zita looks around at the other tables, the other diners, and sinks backwards into the plush couch.

“Yes, Zita, it’s all going to be fine. The table is paid for, nobody is going to bother us.”

As Zita grabs another breadstick, a second imp brings a menu to the table. “Our special Festival of the Guildpact menu, sir and madam. As usual, all dishes prepared for two, paired with a wine by our in-house sommelier. Would you like a minute?” Both Kodo and Zita nod, and the imp zips off to another table.

The pair study the menu silently for a moment before Zita turns to Kodo. “So, what are you thinking?”

“Not sure… what do you want?”

“Oh, whatever you think would be good!”

What are they doing? Do neither of them really know what they want? I reach a little deeper into their minds, and it's not that - they both have quite clear preferences. The roast indrik flank for Kodo, the grilled oyster for Zita. Why, then, not just say so?  Why cede control like this? Yes, they are a bit nervous, but nonetheless it seems strange that both of them would give up the initiative like this.

“But actually! Just pick whatever you like!”

The waiter-imp circles back around to Zita and Kodo’s table. “If sir and madam would like a recommendation, may I suggest the magefire-seared benthid? They are fresh from the river today.”

“I think--” “--would that--” “--yeah, are you--” “Yeah?” “Sure!” Zita and Kodo stumble over each others’ sentences, but in the end manage to communicate enough to the waiter that he nods. “Benthid for two, then. I will inform the kitchen right away.”

How truly bizarre. They have arrived at a decision that neither of them would have made on their own. And yet they both seem pleased about it.

A small orchestra begins to play. Neither Zita nor Kodo recognize the tune, but they sway along to it anyways, occasionally losing themselves in each others’ eyes.

Yes, yes, lesson about eye contact learned.

A few tunes later, a pair of imps sets down a large plate of benthid legs, garnished with a colorful array of vegetables and dripping with some kind of aromatic red sauce. Zita and Kodo pick up their forks, each take a bite, and then in unison spit their bites back out onto the plate.

“These are terrible!” Kodo sniffs at the plate and wrinkles his nose. “Fresh from the river, they say, makes me wonder which river?”

Zita spits a chunk of benthid leg into her wine glass and laughs. “And you said this place was going to be fine!”

Kodo blushes and turns away to hide it, his heart racing. “Well… I thought… sorry.”

A different taste now, bitterness without the brightness. If that light is so easily lost, perhaps it is less important than I initially believed.

“Hey.” Another gentle punch to the shoulder. “What are you apologizing for? I know you did a lot of work to set this up, and… it’s still nice, even if the benthid tastes like it’s been through a Golgari rot farm.”

Kodo’s heart steadies a bit and he places his hands over Zita’s. “Thanks. I guess I… just hoped our first time out together as, you know, a real couple… would be special.”

Or perhaps it is not so easily lost...

“Well, don’t give up hope just yet!” Zita’s warm smile cracks into a mischievous grin. “You said earlier, the ‘table’ was paid for, right?” Her fingers dart between the fancy wooden table and the window right next to their booth.

“Yeah, I did--” Kodo’s eyes widen as he follows Zita’s fingers. “--you’re not serious.”

“I’m deadly serious. We can finish our dinner down by the docks, get some real proper-tasting fried benthid.”

Now both of them are grinning widely.

“Well then!” Kodo’s voice transforms into a roar as he picks up the table by one leg and swings it around like a bat, shattering the window easily.

“Don’t worry, we’ll pay you back…” Zita strikes a pose and addresses the shocked diners and wait staff, “...next Ragefest!” Then with loud whoops, she and Kodo tumble through the broken window and dash off hand in hand, fading within seconds into the mists of the Undercity.

That is as good a time as any to let them go, I believe. Back to my home in the moon my tendrils return. Was this exploration a success? Certainly it convinces me that this feeling is not limited only to the spark-bearers. But nothing has yet afforded me a clear sense of what the feeling is, or how it comes about. It does not even seem to require any sort of objective success to trigger it.

Fear and awe, I know well have to produce. This something-new is distinctly different.

Perhaps… I’ll keep looking.

The above is unofficial Fan Content permitted under the Fan Content Policy. Not approved/endorsed by Wizards. Portions of the materials used are property of Wizards of the Coast. ©Wizards of the Coast LLC.

[incubatordruid]

MtG Month of the Ship, Day 1 - Asking Out

Heard about #MTGShip today and decided I’d write at least a few stories with a little spin. I’ve been fascinated by Emrakul’s interactions with non-Eldrazi ever since she played chess with Jace in “The Promised End”, so I’ll be writing from her POV as she whiles away her time inside the moon by peeking in on other characters’ love lives. First up: Chandra & Nissa!

It's funny. Six thousand years I was trapped by the hedron field on Zendikar, and it felt like a few moments. Yet after just a year in this silver moon, I am starting to experience... I suppose the term is "boredom". The sealing is not as good, perhaps, or maybe I am just changing. That's an odd concept, me changing. Time points one way, but it has never before been necessary for me to follow that arrow as the plane-bound do. Perhaps it is a positive, though. It seems to make it just a bit easier to be aware of the existence of the plane-bound. I even talked to one of them, that elf, Nissa. Her mind was pleasant, it tasted of pears.

I suppose it would be a productive use of this new-found time to learn some more about these humans - and elves, merfolk, dragons, all of them. They are, after all, my pieces, and a good player knows her pieces' strengths and flaws. So I reach out, across the planes, possibly across time, too. I am not fully certain how this works now that I am a mind inside a moon. I will, I guess, begin with Nissa again. I find her consciousness by its scent (still pears!) and rest a small tendril on top of it - not something she’d notice, just enough for me to have a look.

"I'm going back to Zendikar." Nissa crosses her arms and begins to walk down a cobbled street. On either side of her are collapsed buildings, some still smoking from the fires of the previous week's battles. Yet here and there,  bright green grass and small saplings are already poking through.

"Already?!" Nissa turns to face the source of the outburst.

It's that red-haired girl who tried to burn me - Chandra! I'll just split my tendril in two and rest the new branch on her mind.

"Ravnica will heal on its own; Zendikar still needs my help. The few regions untouched by the Eldrazi, at least…"

I swear, Kozilek and Ulamog did most of that!

"But Nisssaaaa!" Chandra drags out the elf's name into a groan.

Does that have a meaning? Should I learn to do that with people's names?

Nissa sighs and takes a few steps back towards Chandra. "What is it?"

Interesting. Suddenly Chandra's mind is tense. But not tense like it was on Innistrad, this is more… excited? The taste is of roasted meat, rather than ash. Oh, they're making eye contact. Is that why?

Suddenly Chandra looks away and her voice drops to a near-whisper. "IwanttotakeyoutotheFestivaloftheGuildpactnextweek."

"Sorry, what was that?"

"IwanttotakeyoutotheFestivaloftheGuildpactnextweek." Chandra's voice is even quieter now.

"Chandra, is your voice okay?" Nissa steps closer, putting her face within inches of Chandra's. "I can't really hear--"

"WILL YOU GO TO THE FESTIVAL OF THE GUILDPACT WITH ME!!!" A wave of fire ripples through Chandra's hair as she screams into Nissa's face. Startled, the elf stumbles backwards, trips over a cobblestone, and lands flat on her back.

"Nissa!" Chandra runs up to her and helps her get back on her feet. "Sorry! I didn't think it would come out that loud!" Suddenly she freezes, quickly looks around, sees that nobody else is around, and lets out a long relieved sigh.

This. I am quite certain I don't understand this. Why is she shouting if she doesn't want everyone nearby to hear her? And the feel of her mind just then was quite aggressive, too.

Nissa slowly dusts herself off with one arm, the other still in Chandra's grip. "Well, I definitely heard you that time. And… um… I, yeah…"

There's a familiar taste. A little bit of that same panic that I felt from her when we spoke on Amonkhet.

"…um, I think…"

Oh, she's still not got a coherent sentence out.

Chandra lets Nissa go and takes a few steps back. "No, no, I shouldn't have--"

"--yes!" Nissa reaches out to grab Chandra's hand again. "I'll go with you! Definitely! Zendikar… well… maybe I'll go back there tomorrow, come back in a couple days…"

I detach myself from the pair of them as they start to walk together down the street and pull my extension back to myself, to Innistrad, to the moon.

I surmise that I had the good fortune to stumble upon a particularly significant moment. At the very least, it will be something to ponder for a few days. The feelings there were not too far removed from some of the mental states I sampled from them on Innistrad. Anxiety, aggression, panic -- but all tinged with something different, something brighter. They are all my pieces, but it seems I have not yet learned all their moves.

Perhaps... I'll keep looking.

The above is unofficial Fan Content permitted under the Fan Content Policy. Not approved/endorsed by Wizards. Portions of the materials used are property of Wizards of the Coast. ©Wizards of the Coast LLC.

[incubatordruid]

a.k.a. “Tibalt Goes to College”

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War of the Spark spoilers have started --> time for memes.

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I had to Google this to figure out if it was a parody or not.

It’s not.

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Playing against Orzhov be like:

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England’s World Cup strategy, briefly.

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Saw the art & flavor text for “In Bolas’s Clutches” today and had to make this. “Had” as in “contractually obligated to”. 

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Marvel:  “Avengers: Infinity War is the most ambitious crossover event in history”

Me: