#artisan commander

[echoes-of-courage]

Has Commander made any links (no pun intended) between the people he knew in the War of Eras, like Midna or Marin, and the heroes he knows now?

He has his suspicions. He’d be shocked if Mask and Pirate haven’t come to the same conclusions, too.

Archive

[niuttuc]

Ah sure. Been tinkering with this one and I'm not yet sure I want a red background but the gist of it is to make a party and get lots of treasures to cast flashy spells.

Mmmmh, well, I ended up thinking of a red card, but might see if I can find something in the same vein in black. Obviously, your deck will have some synergy with artifacts and most if not all of your creatures will fit in your party. So why not steal some tech from Modern and Pioneer?

Have some spare treasures? Why not turn them into outright real cards! Four mana to polymorph a single treasure is ok, but it gets crazy the more you can pump into it. It's random, but all the creatures and artifacts in your deck will likely be more valuable than a single treasure, no? And it even destroys them so any Marionette Master or Apprentice will trigger off that! Plus, this Burakos is a Guild Artisan, might as well show some Creativity.

[cerame]

WHO HAS THE MOST RIZZ? WHO IS THE RIZZLER AMONG THEM

This is a difficult question because, I mean, they're all Links. They're all incredibly charming in their own ways, intentionally or not, so I had to make charts to explain. The first describes their flavor of rizz, and the second describes how much they have.

Quick answer: Artisan

Longer answer:

Artisan has the most raw charisma. His games circle around interpersonal relationships, and that extends to him. He's effortlessly charming, both roguish and noble in attitude and appearance, and that plus his positive attitude makes him appealing to interact with. Commander is close behind, but he had to build up his actual charisma, apart from just being attractive, and he knows how to actually utilize his charm. His entire game... I'll let it speak for itself.

As for Mask, he's in his edgy emo teen phase, and he sometimes references an apocalypse that never happened in a land that may or may not exist. He's uncanny and unwilling to open up to most, so most people aren't really willing to spend a ton of time with him. This does not keep girls his age from finding him attractive, though. What teenager girl doesn't find the mysterious angsty boy a bit charming??

The rest: Archer is seen as pretty much universally attractive in his games, and he also forges several decent relations with the individuals of his era. He's awkward at times, but it's part of his charm. Pirate is just hot. Every person I've shown him to starts acting disrespectfully. That's all I'm going to say on that. He's also just a nice guy to hang around. Cloudy and Farmer are pretty much on the same level. They're both wholesome community boys who like to help. They look trustworthy and capable :)) Despite his disposition, Collector is unfailingly kind and willing to help anyone he comes across. He has an aura about himself that people like and trust. Forge is quite similar to Cloudy and Farmer, in that he's got a heart of gold and is always happy to help, but he's a bit more mischievous, a bit more chaotic, and he keeps his secrets close to his chest. Piper is babey, your honor. He gets anxious and quiet sometimes, and he lacks the confidence of his fellow heroes, but he's adorable and I want to squish his cheeks Scout is a bit standoffish, but apart from the usual hero stuff, he's got his moments of goofiness to contrast with his serious attitude. He's considerate, always fighting for the people, and because of that, he's trusted by the people.

In the end, how much rizz each boy has really depends on your personal tastes, but this is my estimation the general consensus.

[looseleafteeaves]

Peace

This is in a world I am tentatively calling the Sowing Wildflowers AU. All you need to know is that: 1. There was no Order 66. 2. Jedi, hearts hurting from the war, scatter like seeds in the wind. The clones carring them further. 3. The main characters are members of a race of people called Melinomin. Main Characters: Sola Baileya, a senior padawan (Sola is a melinomin) CT-10-3-5420, AKA Captain Snitch (she/her(?) don't know why, Captain Snitch slammed that over my head when I tried to write "he" CT 12-1-9151, AKA Puddle (He/him, a klutz)

Mentioned: Jedi Knight Taplel Vrahe, a mikkian jedi artisan who was unfortunately thrown into the war as a general.

Light gently streaming across closed lids.

Wind rustling leaves, the scents of baked sand and floating flowers surrounding the small figure floating cross legged. The nose twitches, and a quick last breath out, and the figure uncrosses their legs, standing.

"Captain Snitch? What can I do for you?"

"Ah, Commander Sola, we are approaching the MediCorp station, the Sun Touch? I figured you would want to know."

"Thank you Captain Snitch. I will fetch the blankets we are delivering now."

The commander, whose long skirt swishes behind her as she exits, nods, calling over her shoulder "Puddles is joining you, so be prepared."

----

Sola reaches out in the force, brushing against the many bright lights remaining on the Sun Touch in farewell. As the Artisan jumps into hyperspace, Sola turns.

"Puddle, you've been especially quiet today. I know you didn't really get to know me, or Master Taplel, but even if the war was not over, you could ask us anything."

Puddle stays silent, gathering his thoughts. "I just- what is that thing you and General Vrahe are doing in the Growth Room? Why are you just sitting there with your eye closed? Didn't you have many other things you were supposed to be doing?"

Sola smiles and hops onto the nearest table, bringing themself to eye level.

"I know that clones received a limited education on Jedi with the kaminoans... did you learn anything about meditation?"

"That it is the action of meditating, which is focusing one's mind for a period of time, in silence or with the aid of chanting, for religious or spiritual purposes or as a method of relaxation."

"Textbook perfect, Puddle. Meditating is that, however, it is also a process that jedi use to connect and immerse ourselves in the force, releasing emotions that affect us in negative ways, and learning from what we experienced. It is something that is very helpful to build a habit of. but can be difficult to get the hang of. Does that make sense?"

"So, I'm hearing that meditating is something you are doing to understand your experiences, or relaxing and releasing stress. Is that correct?"

"That's exactly correct, Puddle!"

"So what were you meditating about today?"

Sola grabs Puddle's hand and pats it. "Can I invite you to join me to meditate? I would like to meditate some more on peace, and how healing it can be, especially when you were not original built to be in war."

Puddle looks into Sola's face. "I am not the best at staying still, but to concept of peace is something I would love to gain understanding of. Please allow me to partake in your hospitality, and join you in meditating."

Sola almost dances down the hallway. "Then let us go to the Grow Room! The sunlight simulators are the best!"

And Puddle, joining Sola in mediating, experiances his first taste of peace.

[jeromkiller]

My new keyboard came in the mail

And it came with a nice artisan to boot

[homunculus-argument]

Random worldbuilding for nothing in particular: Dwarvish last names.

When dwarvish workers and artisans first came to human cities for work, humans soon noticed that all dwarves seem to have last names ending in the same suffix. Soon enough they put together that these names don't go by families, but by occupation. Blacksmith is a blacksmith, Goldsmith is a goldsmith, a mason is called Stonesmith and carpenter a Woodsmith. And a horse breeder is called a Horsesmith.

(While humans would classify dwarf horses as ponies, dwarvish languages have no separate words for "horse" and "pony" and insist that dwarf horses are called horses since the way humans say "pony" seems degoratory.)

The word that humans previously assumed meant "smith" is simply the dwarvish blanket term for "one who works with their hands to manufacture/maintain." Humans originally started referring to any random dwarf they don't know with simply the suffix in a dismissive "they all have the same names anyway" sort of way, but in dwarfish society addressing someone you don't know in this way, "hey you, Craftsman" is considered perfectly respectable.

Once more dwarf society began to pour into human lands, humans noticed two other types of last names: -Trader, and -Commander. Traders are sellers, peddlers, merchants of all sorts, and while first encountering Silktraders, Goldtraders and Spicetraders might lead one to think that they are a class above -Smiths, they are not. Any street hawker, peddler or common grocer is just as much a -Trader as a merchant of kings is.

There are dwarfish jokes about how a farmer who grows vegetables and then goes to the town to sell them is a Turnip-smith at home but a Turnip-trader in the city, but getting the suffixes mixed up is a serious offense. Calling a dwarvish doctor a "seller of healing" instead of a "crafter of healing" would imply that they do their occupation for financial profit instead of a sacred calling, and is a stab-worthy insult. And they won't stitch you up afterwards.

The -Commander class is as one would expect, for leaders and commanders. The chief of a village or head of a clan is often known as "[clan name] commander", but more often it is the title for military officers and government officials. A centurion is called Hundred-Commander, a higher officer is a Thousand-Commander. The master of a spy network is "Commander of Secrets" and the national chief accountant is "Commander of Coin".

While dwarf societies are technically speaking autocracies with a single leader, humans have yet to reach an agreement about how to translate the leader's title. Most settle for "chief", as king/queen/emperor/empress would require knowing the current ruler's gender, and dwarves consider such information a matter of extreme privacy. The official dwarvish title of the ruler is "folksmith", "one who works with their hands to make/maintain a people".

[whovian223]

Friday Night Shots - Expansions: Yea or Nay?

Friday Night Shots - Expansions: Yea or Nay? @gmtgames @garphillgames @BoardAndDice

It’s Friday. A long week is finished and it’s time to sit back, relax, have some good food and a drink of some kind (whatever kind you like). There’s plenty of soft music in the background too. This isn’t so much of an issue with wargames (so sorry to the usual readers of this post), but my topic of discussion today is expansions. Are they good? Are they bad? Are they unnecessary? Or are they…

[calandrinon]

Narrator: And now here is Gregor Samsa, who has just woken from uneasy dreams to find he's been turned into a giant cockroach. Whatever will he do? Let's watch.

Gregor: M-x revert-buffer

Narrator: oh no!

Gregor: C-g

Narrator: *is cancelled*

[skyscrapergods]

do ponies ever give gifts or make sacrifices to the alicorns?

or did they use to do that and they just were like “stop it it doesn’t do anything”

Gods are powered by belief in them, and their powers are linked to what exactly those beliefs are.

The Sun was long regarded as sublime and benevolent. And she was, as long as she remembered to care about ponies. But as she towered above them, she often forgot to think about mortals while she thought about the planet as a whole, ecosystems and the heavens. Fearing they would be forgotten, the population turned to more and more desperate rituals to command her attention and favor.

Celebrations to her name did more than summon her; they gave her power. Summer sun parties, gift giving, and community feasts caused the nourishing warmth of sunlight. Hospitals erected in her name lent healing touch to the mind in the morning rays. The grander the festival, the more attention The Sun paid. You would surely be blessed with long days and beautiful sunsets as thanks for the artisans crafting stained glass windows for her churches.

Not every pony was happy with happiness. They wanted more. With greater gifts and more breathtaking rituals, surely they could turn her favor toward them and command her aid in matters of war.

The sacrifices began.

They got what they wanted, in the end. The Sun turned her attention on their alters stained with blood and pools running red.

She was not pleased with this new form of worship. She was not pleased with the powers it weaved into her feathers, with the new nature of her lifegiving light.

She smote them all.

In the reeling black of burning villages, she wondered what she had done. She could not wash their stain from her essence. Her act of wrath had cemented their violence into her very being.

Now the sunlight shriveled, it seared, it dried and droughted. To the creatures she loved so much, it caused burns and other illnesses of the flank. She had become one with fire.

The harshness of her love never faded. Society had to adapt. Agriculture now required levies and aqueducts to irrigate the fields and keep the plants from burning. Shade needed to be brought to outdoor events. Flighted ponies created blankets in the sky to give relief from the punishing radiation.

Today, all of this seems normal. Of course the sun burns, that's how it's always been. It seems like such an inevitable part of life that it's hard to remember we caused it.

But we must remember. We must remember to never go there again. We must keep our worship kind, and remember that pain is not holy. Suffering is not divine. Death begets death and fear begets fear. Do not hurt each other for the sake of your god, and do not hurt yourselves.

She doesn't like it.

[thebiscuitlabryinth]

"...We're two sides of the same coin, aren't we?"

The whispered confession falls clumsily out of Pure Vanilla's mouth, almost dragged out, bitterly sweet and strange on his tongue. The words are addressed to his own stained candy glass visage, spilling tendrils of bright blue light across the Solarium of Unity despite the almost suffocating darkness invading the rest of the space.

He knows this isn't really the Solarium of Unity, and he knows he isn't just speaking to a window. The lurking shadows, thick like molasses and blinking every once in a while, give that away. Even if it didn't, there is a haziness here that exists only in dreams, and a lack of the deep tiredness that has been plaguing him as of late.

"Oh, are you finally ready to admit that?" Sure enough, Shadow Milk Cookie's voice comes from all sides, far too cheerful. The candy glass melts and warps before him, the blues darkening until Shadow Milk stands in his place, far more detailed than the artisan silhouette he replaced. His grin is mocking as he looks down at Pure Vanilla, who cannot help but feel uncomfortable at the sight of their appearances blurring together like that, even though he had been expecting something along those lines. "Too bad though – you can't admit something that's wrong!"

"Huh?" It catches Pure Vanilla by surprise. It had been difficult emotionally, but logically straightforward to admit they were two sides of the same coin. He couldn't imagine how that could be wrong, and acting upon an old habit from his student days, he finds himself frantically unravelling that conclusion in his head again to figure out the issue.

Shadow Milk doesn't give him the chance, tutting as he shakes his head in mock disappointment. "You must have a brain in there, can't you use it?" He laments theatrically, contorting himself into an odd shape against the edge of the window pane. Then, again barreling on before Pure Vanilla can reply, "Look, think of it like this. To say we're two sides of the same coin means that we have similarities, even if we are otherwise opposites. That is true to an extent, but it makes our differences sound way more clear cut than they actually are. It may be easier for you to believe, but we aren't really opposites. That would imply I am not whole, and I can assure you, Soul Jam aside, I am just as I always was!"

Ah, so it's a matter of wording. Pure Vanilla isn't sure why he is entertaining this - no, it's because he doesn't want to give Shadow Milk the satisfaction of turning away from the truth. Even now, Shadow Milk's eyes squint cheekily at him, daring him to try and end the conversation.

"Then... we are made of the same components in a different composition." Pure Vanilla tries, a little frustrated with his own hesitance, but it is difficult to tell how Shadow Milk wants him to answer when he isn't making it blatantly obvious.

"So close!" Shadow Milk sighs dramatically as he snaps his head to the side so sharply it makes Pure Vanilla wince, imagining the cracks that would cause on any other Cookie. "But you're relying on technicalities. It's much simpler than that."

It dawns on Pure Vanilla, then, exactly what Shadow Milk is aiming for, the realisation making his insides crawl. He doesn't have to say it, not really, but he isn't sure what Shadow Milk will do if he doesn't, and he unfortunately doesn't have the ability to wake himself up on command.

So he takes a deep breath, fidgeting with his staff as he says, even less than a whisper yet twice as loud. "We're... We're the same. Is that what you wanted me to say?"

"Ding-ding-ding!" Shadow Milk trills, suddenly reaching through the candy glass to grip the window frame and lurching forward across the threshold, leaving a mess of shattered glass behind his head like a halo. It startles Pure Vanilla, who instinctively shifts his foot back, only to be instantly locked in place as the reaching shadows soldify around his legs, its eyes winking up at him playfully. His grip on his staff tightens, willing it to shed its light, the beginnings of panic stirring within him at the restraint. The staff does, but the shadows seem to eat the light without a problem.

Pure Vanilla is so distracted by the shadows that he doesn't notice Shadow Milk's hands until they grab his face. His heart jumps in alarm, and his eyes dart up to find half of Shadow Milk leaning down out of the window, far too close. He is grinning at him, wide and self-satisfied, and his hands are cold and harsh. "See, I knew you had a working brain! Yes, the right answer is that we are one and the same."

He pinches and pulls at his cheeks, and Pure Vanilla tries to cringe away, tries to manuver his staff between them. It doesn't work, if only because hands emerge from the darkness to anchor his staff too.

"But that isn't true." Pure Vanilla mumbles when he isn't able to wiggle his way out and Shadow Milk still shows no signs of stopping, hoping the argument will make him lose interest in his face. "I admit that there are similarities between us, but we aren't really the same."

Shadow Milk pauses, his grip tightening until it borders on pain, and for a moment, Pure Vanilla thinks he may have miscalculated.

But then Shadow Milk snickers to himself, releasing his face entirely and pulling back, his hands resting lightly over Pure Vanilla's shoulders. The brush of weight keeps Pure Vanilla from relaxing, but it is a bit of added distance, at least.

"Aren't we? Well, you are the biggest liar, so I should have expected you would lie to yourself too." Shadow Milk hums, almost sounding delighted at this turn in conversation. It unnerves Pure Vanilla, because he had assumed his disagreement would annoy him.

Instead, Shadow Milk smirks, his many eyes glinting gleefully at him. "Listen carefully, Vani, because here's the truth." He says, his voice dipping into a wicked purr that seems to shudder through Pure Vanilla's whole body. "All the things you hate that I have done, you have the capability of doing too. After all, you've already used people for your own gain, haven't you?" Shadow Milk leans closer with a condescending lilt to his words, shifting his hands so he can wrap his arms loosely over his shoulders, and Pure Vanilla freezes under the touch. "Oh, I know you think it was necessary, but you still sent those naive, tiny Cookies off to carry out your errands for you, regardless of the dangers. That's only a few steps behind what I've done, you know, making people dance to my tune. The only difference between us is severity and time."

The words sink heavily to Pure Vanilla's stomach, not quite true but not quite not true, and he feels a little lightheaded, fingers twitching against his staff. Maybe it's because of that, or maybe it's because of his discomfort from the close proximity, but he finds himself distracted by the way Shadow Milk is talking. He carries his usual air of showmanship, but it is nowhere near as exaggerated as during his brief takeover of the Faerie Kingdom. With his insistence of specificity, his mention of technicalities, his structured method of explaining things, he almost sounds like a–

"We are the same," Shadow Milk repeats, tilting his head to the side, the glow of his eyes burning holes through Pure Vanilla, "and one day, you'll end up just like me."

A scholar.

That makes sense – at some point, his virtue had been Knowledge, and nobody seeks it out as fervently as a scholar – but it still feels like a surprise. Pure Vanilla had always known that Shadow Milk was different, once, but only in the sense that the fact existed in the back of his mind.

"No rebuttal, hmm? Are you ready to accept that?" Shadow Milk asks smugly, slightly impatient with Pure Vanilla's lack of response, but mostly watching him expectantly, as if waiting for a bomb to go off.

Pure Vanilla has never thought about what Shadow Milk might have been like, before he became like this. There was no reason to even consider it. But now, he can't help but wonder, because while he cannot imagine this chaotic, brutal Beast, this great unknown evil, as anything else – Shadow Milk still carries echoes from a past life that he doesn't seem to notice enough to hide with his lies.

"...If we are the same," Pure Vanilla finally scrapes his thoughts together enough to reply, carefully, "then doesn't that make the opposite possible too? That, one day, you will become like me and return to the light?"

Shadow Milk blinks once, his face falling blank. He blinks again, all of his eyes in quick succession.

And then he throws his head back and laughs, the movement jostling Pure Vanilla in the process with his arms still firmly around his shoulders. It sounds unhinged, ricocheting across the room, but it is openly amused. It makes Pure Vanilla antsy, especially with how it rings in his ears like an explosion from their closeness.

He wonders if Shadow Milk's laugh was different, before everything. It must have been. He wonders what it sounded like, and immediately realises that he's being ridiculous. The realisation that a before exists seems to have opened the floodgates in his mind, and now thoughts of hypotheticals can't help flitting in.

"You say such silly, silly things." Shadow Milk bites out offhandedly as his laughter winds down, the lingering remnants still dancing on his tongue. Without warning, he pulls Pure Vanilla even closer, the darkness that had been keeping him in place swirling and shoving him forward. Pure Vanilla gasps, the sound catching in his throat, and one of his hands fly off his staff to reach for something to steady himself on. It finds an edge of shattered candy glass, flinching back and falling down to scrabble against its smooth, intact surface.

Shadow Milk is giggling at him and Pure Vanilla is mortified, horribly so. They are far, far too close, Shadow Milk's face taking up the near entirety of his vision and their upper bodies almost pressed together. It feels claustrophobic, which should be impossible in such a wide, open space.

Shadow Milk makes matters worse by pressing their foreheads together, the gesture weirdly tender and doing nothing to make Pure Vanilla any calmer. His bright blue eyes look directly through him, dissecting him piece by piece.

"Why don't you cut down the Silver Tree and find out?" Shadow Milk coos, his voice overlapping with the Light of Truth's in a deeply unsettling way. His presence is overwhelming.

Pure Vanilla's eyes flicker downwards to escape his piercing gaze, and finds their chests so close that their Soul Jams are overlapping. Overlapping, and not touching, because Shadow Milk's Soul Jam seems to fizzle out of existence where the other makes contact with it, as if it were an illusion. Behind it is an empty space, black as the abyss. With the way they are lined up now, it is obvious that Pure Vanilla's Soul Jam would fit perfectly into the crevice with a little turning. He knew that already, but it still feels strange to see it.

Pure Vanilla sighs, a long, thin, shuddering sound. "...You didn't truly believe that would work, did you?"

In the edge of his vision, Shadow Milk smiles tauntingly, all teeth, but he doesn't say a word.

And Pure Vanilla wakes up, off kilter, exhausted and oddly cold.

[next]

[thecommandertable]

Lost Caverns of Ixalan Artisan Set Review: Part 1

Which common and uncommon cards in Lost Caverns of Ixalan might make their way into your Artisan Commander decks? Part 1 will cover the monocolor cards, and Part 2 will cover the multicolor and artifact cards. Let's take a look:

White

Manglehorn is an existing card but doesn't see much play in Artisan. Making your opponents' artifacts enter tapped has a larger impact in regular EDH where it hits mana rocks like Grim Monolith and Mana Vault, not to mention slowing down big treasure makers like Dockside Extortionist and Smothering Tithe. In all, I don't expect to see too much of Dauntless Dismantler in Artisan games.

Blue

An upgrade over Supreme Will, which sees some play. Putting the extra cards into the graveyard instead of the bottom of the library is relevant for spells decks with payoffs that count the number of instants/sorceries in the graveyard: Crackling Drake, Gandalf's Sanction, Rise from the Tides, etc.

Black

The closest comparison is to Infernal Grasp. Bitter Triumph can hit planeswalkers, but there aren't very many of those in Artisan. The larger difference is the flexibility in the additional cost: when you don't want to pay life you can discard a card instead and vice versa. Some decks, such as reanimator, want discard outlets anyway. I expect to see Bitter Triumph at similar rates as Infernal Grasp and Go For the Throat.

A Deadly Dispute that creates a Map token instead of a Treasure. A lot of decks that run Deadly Dispute will want this card too: Juri, Gut, Thalisse, etc.

This card's pretty interesting. It has shades of Deadly Wanderings to it, except that it only needs you to attack with a single creature instead of controlling only one creature, which is a pretty significant difference. Obviously, you'll want to put this in a deck that can attack with a single large creature. This card's not worth running over a card like Ancient Craving if you're not going to profit off the front side. I'm thinking something like Yargle or Rael Rilsa.

Ichor Wellspring is played in lots of decks that like to sacrifice artifacts. Mephitic Draught is essentially a second copy for black decks.

This card's not far from Doomed Necromancer, which has always struck me as a rare that's ripe for a downshift. The finality counter and sorcery speed are a bit of a bummer, but Soulcoil Viper is something to consider when building Barrowin of Clan Undurr, or if/when they downshift Alesha, who Smiles at Death (fingers crossed)

Any self-mill deck that can easily get four or more permanent cards into its graveyard will like this little guy. Deathtouch means you will often be able to find someone to attack who doesn't want to block, and in a pinch you can leave it back to dissuade a big creature from attacking you.

Red

I'll talk about Caparocti Sunborn when I get to the multicolor cards, but yeah, if you plan on discovering a lot, this card seems deece.

It's a red Prying Blade except: A) it's indestructible, B) it gives an extra point of toughness, and C) gives you the treasure on attack, not when it hits an opponent. Overall that's pretty good.

This card looks excellent in an artifact-heavy deck. It can provide creatures haste in a pinch on its front side, but flipping it shouldn't be very hard, in which case it turns into a land with a very powerful activated ability. Even if you never use that second ability, it's still a card that ramps you.

It's going to be fairly difficult to trigger descend every turn, even in decks that go out of their way to sacrifice stuff. Keep in mind that tokens are not cards, so sacrificing treasures or Eldrazi Spawn tokens or whatever won't trigger this. That said, getting just two or three treasures out of a two-mana creature is pretty good, and it has two relevant creature types.

Sunshot Militia is yet another creature that goes infinite with Malcolm, Keen-Eyed Navigator and a way to turn it into a pirate. Aside from that, it's still a card with a ton of potential. It works great with Curiosity effects, for one thing. But any deck that has lots of stuff hanging around, be it treasure tokens, food tokens, equipment, or dispensable creature tokens could use Sunshot Militia to deal good chunks of damage at low cost.

Great for my Syr Carah deck.

Green

Ok so a lot of these dinosaur payoffs I'm skipping over because the red-green signpost dinosaur legendary doesn't look very compelling as a commander- I'll get to it in Part 2- but Earthshaker Dreadmaw is a house.

This card reminds me of Afiya Grove, which not only is a rare but also on the reserved list. And Explorer's Cache is... better? It enters with one fewer counters on it, but gives you a lot more control over when you dole out the counter (a big mark against Afiya Grove is that you have to give the +1/+1 counter to an opponent's creature if you don't control any creatures), and of course, it recoups counters if your creatures die. I'd put Explorer's Cache into any deck that has a lot of +1/+1 counter synergies and proliferate. It also works very well with Kami of Whispered Hopes.

Poison Dart Frog looks like a decent mana dork/rattlesnake card. Pretty nice that it can block a creature with flying, then tap to help pay for its own deathtouch ability. That said, I wouldn't run a two-drop mana dork if I don't need the mana fixing; if I just want to ramp, I'd go with Llanowar Elves/Elvish Mystic/Fyndhorn Elves instead.

This is the biggest, baddest green mana sink we've gotten in Artisan. Previously the best was probably Centaur Glade. Sachi decks will be able to use this, and maybe(?) Rishkar and/or Tatyova decks. If you're making infinite mana with something like Devoted Druid + Vizier of Remedies, I'd recommend putting that mana into something like Goblin Cannon for the win; as cool as turning all your lands into 7/7s is, you have a limited supply of them, and they don't have trample-- you don't want to pass the turn only to have them all destroyed by a Slaughter the Strong or Kirtar's Wrath.

Alright, that's all the monocolor cards! See Part 2 for multicolor and artifact cards!

[echoes-of-courage]

Happy pride month

Archive

[meadow-of-daisies-and-lavender]

Deity! 141 AU HCs

A/N: Just some ramblings about the 141 as deities in my poly AU

(18+ only)

Please comment and reblog!

Captain John Price

God of the East Woods, who is represented by winter. He is known for his leadership skills, analytical abilities, and good faith in his men.

As he is known for leadership skills, he is known as the god most worshiped by leaders who seek guidance in their ability to command others. He is also known for being the one sought out by outcasts who are looking for community. He’ll help you find your way, don’t you worry. You belong somewhere; we just have to find where.

Contrary to popular belief, John does not participate in assisting those who force their command over others. He believes in leading by example and earning the privilege of leadership.

 He is most closely associated with cold metal, with his altar decorated in winter wreaths, warm spices, and delicate metalwork.

Kyle Garrick

God of the North Woods, represented by Spring and water. He is courageous, knowledgeable in the social and environmental climate, and can foresee the cause and effects of many actions on the battlefield.

He is worshiped by those beginning new endeavors. As the youngest and newest god (which, how new can ancient beings really be?), myths range from his grand displays of courage to self-doubt. His stories paint imagery of humbleness and of an eager learner. To those seeking new starts, he is the perfect divine being to guide you to ask questions and be courageous in the midst of change.

Kyle, while known best for being the god of changes, is also the patron of mystics for his foreseeing abilities (and beauticians. He likes his skincare and pretty things). As the foreseeing one, he knows all the outcomes and can assist divination practitioners in seeking knowledge of the future.

Just because Kyle can help doesn’t mean he will. Many fortune-tellers have reported trickery and confusion trying to get answers from him. He likes his jokes and finds seeing humans guessing about the future amusing. Won’t they find out eventually?

 His altar is decorated with bowls of water representing spring rain and winds. As spring flowers bloom, they are also decorated upon his altar. The seed of each planted crop is represented on the altar as a blessing for a productive sowing season.

Johnny McTavish

The god of summer and of the southlands. McTavish is known for quick, fiery actions mirrored by a thunderstorm's quick turn or a wildfire's spark.

While he might have fiery emotions, the god is methodological in his delivery of quick actions. For this reason, if you need help finding passion, McTavish is the god for you. He is the patron of athletes and artisans who harness passion into practice and dedication to their craft.

The god of summer is precise! If you seek his help, be specific and think about what you need versus what you want. His help will come on his timing, but it’ll be exactly what you asked for. He finds it funny when mortals get upset by this. Usually, if he is going to be helpful to the mortals, it is on his terms and conditions, and you’ll know by a sudden splash of warmth on your skin or by the way events just so happen to align that it could only be the work of a god.

His altar is decorated with an always-lit candle. There are summer fruits in bowls and an icon of a thunderbolt descending from the sky to represent his passions.

The one they call “Ghost”

The god of the south and autumn season, mortals know the least about him. His mythology is sparse, usually featuring him as a supporting character in someone else’s myth (usually Johnny’s) with a dry sense of humor.

He is the god of the ground that is transitioning into hibernation, the god of intelligence, knowing when to take ground and when to give ground. He is the wisdom gained from remembering the bones and dust from whence you came. He is the patron of the elderly and wise, of those who understand the power of listening before speaking to the aged ideals that came before you.

Hidden by shadows of the unknown, protected by the bones of the dying, Ghost is not a death god, but he represents the bridge between mortals and the spiritual, helping those who are dying.

Ghost is not a god you call upon lightly. He will make you search your shadows, forcing you to gaze upon those fearsome things that hide in all mortal souls. If you ask to see the divine, he will show you it when you are ready. But it will not look pretty or neat or holy. It will be sacred in its raw, awesome terror, a power unleashed that mortals cannot grasp.

Ghost’s alter typically has a buck skull on it- the first buck killed of the season. Black and grey altar cloths are laid beneath the walnut bowls holding the nuts and acorns offered to the god.

Once upon a time, there were four gods. Together, they took turns helping the mortals. But what spirit connects them all, centering their efforts? Of what clear mission banner do they unite under? To whom is the focal point of life’s great mysteries? It had always been assumed human mortals as a collective to be that focal point. But the myths do not end with the death of the old. They continue and will grow with the next generations and generations next.

[kiame-sama]

Omega Marechi (Yandere!Upper-Moons x Omega!Reader x Yandere!Muzan)

Warnings; yandere, multiple yandere, stalking, mention of violence, mention of social imbalance, my abo au (less than 1000 omegas world wide and omegas are a commodity of sorts), omega reader, abo social ladder, abo societal structure, unfair situations, instinct manipulation, kidnapping, threat of murder, blood, violence, mention of human consumption, demons, female bodied reader, female reader pronouns (let me know if y'all want a male version).

(It's a personal headcannon of mine that omegas are short & chubby, so very soft and squishy)

(Also, let me know if y'all want a continuation of this, I have a certain idea involving stockades I have been interested in trying out)

~~~~~~~~

Deep within the winding surfaces and ever changing interior of a fortress wreathed in darkness, demons began to gather. Though they were few in number, each demon had their own impressive strengths and abilities that set them apart from the many other members of their brood. Even with their combined presence and strength, their master stood above them in every way possible.

The king of demons, he who sired every other demon, stood watching his upper ranked generals as they gathered beneath him. Short dark hair seemed to swallow all light in the inky abyssal color, bright red eyes glinting like lit lanterns on the darkest of nights. His fair skin unblemished and so smooth it could be mistaken for the marble of a true artisan's finest work. Truly a vision of a true apex alpha with the beauty of a divine being.

The six generals that gathered were supposed to be without company and solely focused on their sire, yet one was not alone. Next to the top general of the king's army was a large rectangular box shape that was draped in heavy fabrics to conceal what may be held within. The fabrics seemed to be soaked in a heavy perfume mixed with the hint of an unusually appealing scent that taunted the senses.

"What have you brought, Kokushibou?"

The deep and commanding voice of the demon king rumbled out with a tint of curiosity in his tone. Where he expected quite a bit from his upper moons, even he had to admit that the actions of his top general were odd. It was not often that the upper moons did something that surprised him- and usually was met with a swift reprimand- but his curiosity had been peaked by the abnormal behavior.

Without saying a word, Kokushibou gripped the heavy fabric and quickly pulled it away, revealing what had been concealed. Beneath the cloth lay an iron cage- much like what an exotic beast would be transported in- with blankets lining the bottom of the cage for cushion. The cage itself wasn't very interesting when compared to what lay within.

Laying bound in the iron cage was a woman, her (h/c) locks strewn around her head and her (s/c) flesh looked incredibly plush and no doubt was soft to the touch. A delicate and fine silk kimono wrapped around her bound form, even that which held her was made of the expensive materials. Her eyes were covered in a long silk ribbon, mouth held shut by an intricate golden muzzle, her arms cuffed together with similarly intricate cuffs in front of her and lower legs cuffed together.

A woman- no matter how decorated- wasn't much to crow about, but the pungent scent that had been smothered by the perfumes was now free and quickly reached those nearby. There was a visible change in the way the other upper moons stood, their nostrils flaring and eyes fixed on the soft woman as they contemplated what she was. The scent reached Muzan last, but he knew immediately what was being presented to him, though he could scantly believe what his senses were telling him.

"No," Douma started, his multi colored eyes wide in disbelief, "that's impossible. Omegas aren't real! It must be a trick."

"Looks real to me. Smells real too. Actually," Akaza sniffed, looking curiously at the bound female, "she smells like a marechi."

A soft whimper came from within the cage, the female inside moving and seemingly trying to pull away from her binds. The muzzle secured on her kept her from speaking and muffled her sounds as she responded to the voices around her. Blindly she turned her head towards the sound of Akaza speaking, seemingly trying to understand where she was and who she was with.

"She was being transported as cargo on a train. From her scent, it was made clear to me that she is an Omega and a marechi. She has no mating marks present on her body. The humans transporting her were on their way to deliver her to slayers, a gift from a small village of fools."

Muzan silently descended from where he had been standing above the upper moons, approaching the cage curiously. The other demons watched in interest as their sire crouched, observing the bound female that had been presented to him. He had not encountered an omega, even in his long life, so seeing such a rare and unusual being in a cage was surreal. Truly, he had thought omegas were just another myth created by humans.

He reached a finger between the bars, his sharp nail gently scraping over the exposed neck of the omega. Naturally, she responded with a fearful sound at the feeling of something sharp against her neck, trying to writhe away from the sensation. The obvious fear was accompanied by an intense scent that prodded at their minds to defend the soft woman from whatever may be causing her distress.

Muzan observed the struggling of the delicacy he had been presented with, red eyes gleaming and unwavering. After a moment of simply watching the omega struggle, he reached his hands forward to grip the cage bars. With one flex, the metal groaned beneath his hands, crumpling like sand and bending out of shape. One of his hands held the cage still as he ripped the bar off of the cage, pulling out several more until he could access the omega.

The loud sound of the metal bending and crushing had clearly upset the omega who let out a muffled scream into the muzzle, body twisting and writhing to escape the frightening sound and its source. Another scream escaped her as one of Muazan's hands gripped the back of the her kimono, dragging her out of the remnants of the cage. A sharp scent made him freeze, the taunting ambrosia of marechi blood filled his nostrils as he moved to examine the omega.

Sitting on her cheek was the smallest of cuts, blood slowly beading along the line of the slice. Within the second Muzan noticed the small injury, a greedy mouth formed along his hand. The elongated tongue quickly stretching out and slowly laving over the gathered blood with an apparent groan of satisfaction rumbling in his chest from the taste.

His pleasured sound only seemed to frighten the omega more, whimpering out and beginning to cry from the terror. It was understandable, she had been in the cage for an unknown time and now was listening to the sound of an unknown assailant flavor her blood. With a quick motion the blindfold was pulled away, revealing (e/c) eyes that were filled with delicate tears and horror.

Her gaze became fixed on the bright red eyes of the predator in front of her, body falling completely still. Much like the way an injured fawn would freeze upon seeing the open jaws of a bear. The body of the soft omega seemed to curl in on itself, as if she were trying to seem as small as possible all without looking away.

He lifted his free hand towards her and gripped her ornate metal muzzle despite her frightened sounds and slow shaking of her head back and forth. She cringed and closed her eyes tightly as his hand gripped the clasp of the muzzle that held it on.

For a moment, things seemed to stand still in baited anticipation of what the demon king would do next. All upper moons keenly awaited their sire's next move as it would determine the fate of the omega they all were interested in. Wanting to get their hands on her if he allowed her to live, or wanting a piece of her if he chose to consume her.

A soft click of metal could be heard in the profound silence as the clasp of the muzzle was disconnected.

~~0~~

You warily watched the frightening man remove the muzzle you wore, seeing how hungrily he looked at you the entire time. He seemed to be contemplating you, much like many others would when first coming into contact with you. The man- or monster, would be more accurate- suddenly grinned, hand gripping your neck and slowly lifting you up.

Even with how you struggled, the man seemed to have no problem holding you until he was fully standing. His expression became more fierce as the veins in his face became more pronounced, tongue slowly dragging over his lips. After a moment he lowered you so your feet were on the ground, no longer holding you off the ground but still holding you in place.

"You are a truly unfortunate human. Luckily for you, I intend to keep you for the time being. You staying alive or not will be determined by your actions."

~~~~~~~~

You had been taken to a large ornate bed that no doubt belonged to the demonic alpha that broke your chains but left your cuffs. From the way he stared at you, you felt like you were being appraised much in the way one would appraise a meal. A yelp escaping your lips as you were thrown down on the soft surface.

In seconds you felt the silk that held your clothing together rip open, the ornate kimono falling open. Your body was completely left exposed to the intense gaze of the man, you had been dressed for meeting several new mates who were top members of the demon slayers. Instead it seemed the demons found you and decided to keep you for the time being.

Part of you was terrified to fight back as you didn't wish to anger the demon that took you to bed. Based off of his scent, you knew you were dealing with an alpha of great strength and willpower. The alpha himself seeming to be above other alphas that you had caught the scents of whenever one would pass through your village. He was clearly the one others answered to as they had gotten out of his way rather quickly when he decided to drag you to his chambers.

You tried to keep your thighs pressed together to give yourself some kind of protection, but the demon was quick to pry them open. His gaze was intense and you felt your body warm in response to how he stared at your exposed figure. A whimper from you seemed to break the trance he was in as his eyes flicked up to look at you for several seconds.

"And still, you are afraid. Tell me, Omega, did the humans you lived amongst even give you a name, or have you always been Omega?"

"My name," you struggled to keep the fear out of your voice as you answered the alpha demon, "it's (Y/n), (L/n)(Y/n)."

"(Y/n)? I am Kibutsuji Muzan, king of demons. You have gained my attention, (Y/n), quite dangerous indeed. I expect you to be an obedient omega, understand?"

"Ye-yes, I understand, Alpha."

"Good."

You whined softly as one of his hands came up to palm your soft chest as if appraising it like fruit. His bright red eyes gleaming in interest as he observed you trying to sit still for him and let him continue what he wanted. Clearly you were a high tier omega as you were so obedient and did exactly what the alpha told you to do.

The village you grew up in must have trained you to be a good omega, taking the word of an alpha as law. In any case, he was quite pleased to have such a treasure in his grasp. He vaguely considered keeping the omega for himself, but he knew the way the upper moons stared, even Akaza showed clear interest.

An omega would certainly be a unique reward and incentive to push the upper moons further. Beyond just that, using the unique human omega sent could throw off the slayers in such a way there would be no one left to stand against the demon king.

[edgrara]

𝐋𝐢𝐧 𝐤𝐮𝐞𝐢 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧 𝐀𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬

a/n ; hello my followers! sorry i haven’t been writing for SO LONG 😭. I apologise so much! will be accepting requests now!

notes : reader has the ability to draw whatever she desires and whatever she draw will come out alive and will be commanded by reader

𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐏𝐈𝐎𝐍

s : it’s interesting how you can actually fight…

y/n : never expected an artist to be your opponent, right?

s : what kind of artist are you?

y/n : can’t you tell by my weapon, scorpion?

y/n : those impressive fire abilities, could I paint you one day?

s : *shy* to be honest, I’m honoured

y/n : could you PLEASE tell Liu Kang to read the letter that I send him? I have sent at least 5 letters already!

s : *laughs* you could have passed the message to me, artisan…

y/n : you wouldn’t even let me tell him myself!  ─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

𝐒𝐔𝐁-𝐙𝐄𝐑𝐎

sz : since when you can fight!?

y/n : such a pity you do not know much about my history and origin, sub zero 

sz : *cackles* artist? more like weakest! 

y/n : at least I’m not weak to resist Shang Tsung’s offer 

y/n : don’t even bother asking me to join your bogus clan just because you want more power

sz : don’t worry, i won’t ask you but force and threaten you to join the superior Lin Kuei clan 

y/n : i am willing to paint you, with all the disgusting demons from the netherrealm, devouring your flesh

sz : ha ! as if you could even-

y/n : you don’t want to test my abilities, Bi-Han. 

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄

sm : Your abilities are fascinating! It’s impressive

y/n : *smiling* why thank you Tomas, really appreciate your compliment 

sm : if you lose, you’ll pay for dinner 

y/n : *smirks* if that’s the case, then you’ll pay for my art supplies if you lose 

y/n : im curious, could you draw in the air with your smoke abilities?

sm : my smoke is for kombat, not for fun, y/n…

y/n : why did you tell Kung Lao that IM painting him? Now he’s pestering me to show him…

sm : you were, weren’t you?

y/n : Tomas, it is for a BIRTHDAY gift for him, not some painting that i paint out of boredom! 

thank you for reading ! reposts, shares and like r appreciated! @edgrara ‘24

🎼🎶⭐️🫧

[ascendingaeons]

Hymn to Sekhmet

by Joey Rivers (ascendingaeons)

O Sekhmet, Great Eye of Ra, the First and the Last Healer and Destroyer, Mother and Daughter You Who accepted the Command of Ra, Your Father To cleanse the Two Lands of Isfet But Your nature was too mighty, Great of Strength as You Are Wanton and unrestrained, You ravaged Earth as a purifying flame And as Ra looked on and saw His Eye, He was stricken with pause By the Will of the Sun, Your Rage was quieted by a crimson brew And into transformative slumber You fell, Great Goddess And from Your great Rage, Het-Heru rose A new Eye was christened, of eros sublime And you, Great Mother, knew the sadness of regret

You, Great Goddess, know the measure of rage unbound And so You Stand, Great Mother of War, in defense and duty Of the Principles and Consequences of Ma’at Your Children are many, Great Lady of Life Diverse in their multitudes, empowered by their tribulation

Yours is the soldier, Your Mighty Sekhem made flesh and bone Entrenched in a maelstrom of fire and blood Returning home to a nation that does not understand him

Yours is the survivor, a living branch of Your burning Will triumphant Endeavoring to rise above the quagmire of loss and agony Through You their struggle is transmuted into the golden light of ka ascendant

Yours is the mother, she who knows sacrifice and sleepless nights A font unyielding of love and pride, of smiles and laughter perfected They who bear the weight of the world so a child can know childhood

Yours is the healer, an alchemist of the ontological persuasion He who is humbled by the frailty beholden to human experience He who ushers Your Sekhem through the riptide of transformative loss

Yours is the artist, through whose passions course Your Divine Fire Who walks the scales of inspiration and madness, knowing Creation unfiltered An alchemist versed in the milieus of perception

For You, Great Goddess, are the very Force of Change You are that which makes men tremble so Such an unnecessary fear, of wisdom and experience untouched Were I You, I would feel such sadness But how You smile, Great One! How You laugh! How You fight! You are not “she who cowers before Apep!” NO! You are the Great Lioness Who rends Chaos asunder! You fight and rage and bite and tear Passion and emotion alive and unrestrained!

You are Love, Great Goddess You are Fear, Great Goddess You are Devotion, Great Goddess You are Loss, Great Goddess You are Health, Great Goddess You are Sickness, Great Goddess This is why I call You the Mother of Life Your Ka is the very essence of experience! Your Sekhem is the very wind of change!

When I first called upon You, timid and unsure, I beheld Your Gaze, a window of fire open before my face And as quickly as You Saw me, You left And again when I called to You with offering of water and bread Exhausted by grief and devotion, tirelessly sung from a caregiver’s heart You came to me and my eyes were opened to You! As I lay without sleep, You stood at my bedside Stroking my back with strong hands of fire Whispering strength and courage into my ear As a sentinel You walked with me, a Mother Lioness guarding Her cub Such loyalty and tenderness You showed And my eyes were forever opened to Your nature

You are the very Force of Creation, the Monad of Being From which stems those primordial principalities Love and Fear, Physis and Logos, Known and Unknown Order and Disorder, Life and Death, Dynamism and Stasis

I offer henu to You, Great Goddess of Creation The endless potentiality and movement of the living cosmos The Fires Divine that Become living sinews and living earth

I offer henu to Your Husband Ptah, the Cosmic Smith Patron of artisans, of those who tirelessly toil In the pursuit of Bringing Into Being but a shard of the Sacred Unmanifest

I offer henu to Your Son, the Beautiful Nefertem The Ageless Lotus that rose from the Benben Stone The First Splendid Light to Shine in the churning Waters of Nun

It was You Who held my right hand as I accepted the mark of a healer And embraced me as a Mother would Her graduating son I offer You my pain, Great Goddess So that You may transmute it into Strength I offer You my fear, Great Goddess So that You may transmute it into Courage I offer You my uncertainty, Great Goddess So that You may transmute it into Wisdom

Into Your Belly I give of myself to unleash my greatest potential To burst from Your Bosom, shining and emboldened For there is nothing that is beyond Your Reach, Great Mother It is for me, now, to See that nothing is beyond my own

Dua Sekhmet! Dua Sekhmet! Dua Sekhmet!