#machine orthodoxy

[phyrexianphamily]

I want to thank all the evil gays.

Elesh Norn after the compleation of Mirrodin, New Phyrexia

[ask-the-praetors]

Elesh Norn...

If you hate flesh so much, why are you the color of meat and bone?

The material that covers our exalted bodies has been thoroughly reprocessed–that is to say, blessed–by the rites of compleation. As such, it is no longer the sinful, divided meat and bone it once was. Only the spiritually blind assume a resemblance, but all will share the vision before long–even you.

Phyrexia elevates and transforms. What was once the biomatter of an isolated fleshling becomes sanctified with oil and cable, knitting it to the true Whole.

-E

[littjara-mirrorlake]

Imagine being the brave-ass Phyrexian vandal who risked it all to give a nice oil bath to the Argent Etchings, only the Orthodoxy’s most sacred monument

The priest looks so distraught. I love it

[reubenyeoart]

Commission - Pluto Avatar

An avatar commission for a client, who wanted their sona in the Fair Basilica from Magic the Gathering's Phyrexia: All Will Be One expansion! They also requested a compleated version of their sona dressed in the raiment of the white-aligned faction of the New Phyrexians, the Machine Orthodoxy!

As a companion to the commission, I created two design sheets, one detailing what Pluto would look like in my style, and another visualising what Pluto's compleated form would look like! As part of the Machine Orthodoxy (the white-aligned faction of New Phyrexia), exposed flesh and porcelain panels featured heavily into the design, although I added small touches such as the interwoven black tubing, since a major personal fault of the Phyrexia: All Will Be One designs is that the designs were sanitized too much, giving the impression of people wearing costumes, rather than viscerally-modified cybernetic organisms.

[homeostasister]

i dont have any "tinnitus" i have an angel who lives in my blood and she likes to sing songs for me. ok

[shallow-wordsalad]

reading recent stories of Magic: The Gathering's lore has reminded me of the importance of avoiding the Idiot Ball when writing. the latest two chapters of Phyrexia: All Will Be One's story have been a sequential and rapid passing of the Idiot Ball from Kaya to Kaito to Elspeth and it lead very quickly to the villain getting what they wanted through no action of their own. we did a whole thing about going to the past, getting in contact with the person who originally beat Phyrexia, getting an extra copy of the ultra-bomb he used to destroy them, and bringing it all the way to New Phyrexia's portal-opening magic god-tree before Kaya went "hey what if this explosion hurts someone innocent". somehow that one freaking sentence was enough for Kaito to go "hey yeah wait this is a bad idea we shouldn't do this", and Jace - poor friggin' Jace - was just flabberghasted and left holding the bag going "buh - w, wait, hold on, we're already here, we HAVE the bomb, we're good to go!" but, nah, Kaya and Kaito made their moral decision in a split second and by god they're going to defend it come hell or glistening oil. and then, as if that's not bad enough, Elspeth catches up with them after Jace manages to finally activate the Sylex - doing the thing they were trying to do at the start of this entire extremely-lethal excursion - and SOMEHOW knew there was some kind of moral debate happening and that she disagreed with Jace. so he gets freaking stabbed, and she disappears with the bomb to blow it up somewhere else - somewhere where a lot more innocents are likely to get caught in the crossfire. or, since she took it to the Blind Eternities, possibly WAY WORSE - the entire argument was about not knowing if the Sylex's blast-radius could cross the Blind Eternities, so I guess we're gonna fuck around and find out? nice work fellas, we blew up innocent people and didn't even graze the robo-zombies we wanted to blow up in the first place. the same robo-zombies who are about to spread all over the Multiverse and kill everyone anyway.

I don't mind the villain winning, but the state of things in MtG's lore is such that Elesh Norn conquering the Multiverse is really more a testament to the absolute idiocy of the heroes than the ruthless efficacy of Phyrexia. it reads less like a masterstroke of villainous planning, or even just one crucial mistake at the worst moment, more like a D&D party who just couldn't get their shit together for so long that the DM just called it off with Rocks Fall Everyone Dies. this was a series of colossal fuckups and leaps of unfollowable logic, and somehow in pre-written story, someone managed to metagame information they shouldn't have had.

seriously, this? "Somehow, in that moment, she understood everything—what Jace had resolved to do, what was about to happen not just to Mirrodin but to the Multiverse itself. Elspeth saw, with perfect clarity, what needed to be done." this is garbage. yeah, SOMEHOW, Elspeth knew all this very specific stuff that everyone else only had just guessed at two seconds ago, and only decided upon one second ago. what do we need Jace for anyway, Elspeth is clearly some kind of mind-reading precognitive psychic on the level of someone reading a script a page ahead.

jesus christ. if you're going to have doubt and infighting among your protagonists, at least have it make sense. these idiots had an entire plot arc to think about the consequences of the Sylex's use, and only decided to question it at the very-literal last second with the worst conclusions possible. it not only cost the heroes a victory, but it cost the integrity of the story as a whole. this sucks.

[forgottenbones]

[tanadrin]

I know there are only so many ways to phrase the insight "Tsar Nicholas II has no idea what he was doing" in a way that makes it interesting, but I do wonder what the endgame of Nicholas and the reactionaries really was in Russia in the 1900s and 1910s. Let's say he's right about everything: let's say orthodoxy, autocracy, and nationality can work as an ideology, that the Tsarist state isn't a creaking old half-rotted machine that has embarrassingly poor capacity (and stops abruptly above the local level relevant to 75% of the population), let's say all your loyal-but-reformist-ministers like Witte and Stolypin are wrong, conditions are fine, this agitation really is the pernicious influence of foreigners and Jews, and "true Russians" (whatever that means) really do love you.

You still got your ass kicked by the Japanese, you still rule a country which is embarrassingly poor given its size and population, your tiny middle class still has very little capital to invest in industry because all the surplus is getting hoovered up by your nobles and you, personally. Russia, as a military and economic engine to which your family's fortunes are irrevocably yoked (unless you abdicate and go into exile, which we all know you won't), is still well behind other European great powers, and the next big war you fight against a peer nation is going to go even worse than the one with Japan, if it happens in your backyard--which is inevitable, because you are playing great power politics like you are the German Kaiser, and not the Russian Tsar.

So what is your endgame? Stagnate forever? I guess this is demanding too much from a man who genuinely thought God was on his side, who was totally out of touch with the events of the day, and whose interest in the affairs of state far outstripped his understanding of those affairs. But there were a lot of reactionaries in Russia in those days, who seemed to share Nicholas's passion for stasis and autocracy. And no matter how many anti-semitic conspiracies you fund in occupied Poland, it's not gonna keep the Prussians at bay come 1914! And it's not like he didn't have a ton of loyal ministers who were 1000% on board with a strong monarchy and who also had clever ideas on how to improve state capacity and expand industry.

[incorrect-mtg]

The Argent Etchings teach no fear

Fez Xa'ktiz knew no fear as he stepped through the omenpath, even though it was the first time he would be in a world not his own. He was the First Vanguard of the Choir within the Seven Hundred and Forty Eighth Expedition Force of the Alabaster Host and through his lips the song of the Mother of Machines would be spread, her presence was always with — within — him.

Fear was a weakness of the incompleat, of those not yet blessed by the light of Phyrexia, not yet held in the sweet embrace of the Mother of Machines, not yet baptized in ichor. It was the inevitable result of imperfection and lack of unity, something that would soon be eradicated through their work, where the entire multiverse would find purpose and belonging.

Fez Xa'ktiz was not born to feel fear, he was born to sing. He was not born to be alone, he forever heard the whispers of the Mother of Machines, the guiding force of his own voice.

"In the Argent Etchings we each learn our appointed duties and so we understand our purpose" he heard the Mother whisper within him, and so it was with delight that he fully crossed the boundary into a nameless world.

As the rest of the Expedition Force stepped through the omenpath behind him — alongside a number of members of the Chrome Host — he did a first survey of the site of their arrival. Although the Machine Orthodoxy held knowledge of countless worlds, eagerly gathered in preparation of the events now unfolding, there were countless more about which they had known little to nothing. He had been trusted with charting one such world, hence the presence of the Chrome Host, and so any insight would be beneficial.

The most noticeable aspect was the material of the walls that surrounded him — organic, disgusting wood — and then the realization that they had, indeed, arrived in a room. A large hall, rectangular in shape, its dark and stained walls covered by peeling and roting paper and littered with assorted objects that might have long ago implied a living presence. At the each of the most distant ends of the hall, flimsy doors hid the rest of the world from sight.

Curious... although the Mother of Machines guaranteed that their feet would find stable ground to cross on arrival, he thought it unlikely for said ground to be in a building, much less an abandoned one.

His duty was not to ask questions, however, unlike the members of the Chrome Host that had immediately set upon their given task of setting up observation devices, scanners and other such contraptions. Typical of apostates who saw observation of their surroundings as a better path to perfection than the much more enlightened learning through the Argent Etchings themselves.

"In the Argent Etchings we see the world as it should be, and so they light the path towards perfection" whispered the voice of the Mother of Machines again as he turned towards his fellows in the Alabaster Host. Unlike their Gitaxian counterparts, they had organized themselves single file, silent and waiting for orders. Sixteen divisions of sixteen soldiers, each led by another Vanguard of the Choir, the perfect ordination for the forces of Phyrexia.

Fez Xa'ktiz opened his mouth and let ring the song to which he had been entrusted, its metallic shrieking and undulating depths shaking the walls around them at the same time it gave the soldiers purpose. As each member of the Choir echoed in delightfully rending harmony, they set out to do their work. The forces split in two and moved towards each door, followed by quickly assembled Gitaxian probes. As both doors opened into new halls, each splitting off into different directions, the Host split up further into smaller forces, until finally each division pressed on individually, mapping out the path that they took and noting all other paths they missed, which would likely be explored by the drones the Chrome Host was sending off.

Although not able to see through their eyes, the resonance of their singing allowed Fez Xa'ktiz a measure of understanding of the surroundings each division passed through, which let him see that whatever building had been unwittingly chosen as the landing spot of their invasion was still large enough that none of their forces had arrived at an outside. Odd, although not beyond the realm of possibility — perhaps this place was a crude and disgustingly organic facsimile of the Fair Basilica, an entire world brought within a greater structure — and something that would definitely be worth noting.

Of perhaps equal note was the first living being found within the plane: a moth, its gray fluttering wings carrying it through the doors and right by him. Perhaps it had sat in a hidden alcove, and the passing forces had awoken it? How serendipitous, then, that it had been drawn by the light of the omenpath right towards them.

Bringing forth a hand towards the insect, Fez Xa'ktiz was delighted to see it land upon his claw, its wings closing and antennae fluttering as they regarded each other, black eyes meeting perfectly polished ivory... This creature, insignificant as it might be, would be fitting first initiate for this world. A moth reaching for the light and finding its own perfection upon arrival.

Extending his tongue, he let it be cut by one of his sharp fangs, black ichor dripping through the wound. Leaning his head down, he let it drip directly onto the moth until its gray wings turned black. Surprisingly it had no reaction to such a treatment, even though he knew compleation was supposed to be — meant to be — a painful process.

"Weakness burrows deep in the flesh of the incompleat. It bites down and refuses to let go. Their first step towards perfection is to extricate it and bleed out its rot" taught the Mother of Machines, even though the vermin on his claw seemed to defy such clear teachings... Until the entire thing came undone, breaking apart like petals falling off a dead flower.

Perhaps... Perhaps it was simply too weak. If someone — something — was wholly comprised of weakness, how could they remove it without ceasing to exist entirely? Yes, that made sense. To react in pain, to shake and twist and cry, one would need parts of themselves to remain, the parts that weren't corrupted by weakness. The insect likely had nothing to offer and so could not even muster a reaction.

He put the moth out of his mind, focusing on more important matters: one division had finally met living beings to oppose its passage. Not insignificant vermin, but actual fighters charging directly at them.

The walls rumbled and shook as Fez Xa'ktiz increased the volume of his song, the lessons and tactics etched in his mind echoing towards the legions of soldiers now finally seeing battle. Like the beasts of the Hunter Maze, warriors seemed to come out of the woodwork, their rusty and jagged weapons doing little and nothing against perfect phyrexian soldiers-

No, that wasn't right... The walls, they had not shaken due to his song, had they? Or had they? He didn't understand why it mattered, but he would swear that they shook first, then he had intensified his singing...

"The enem- even some of our al- see meri- ception- crush- overwhel-" murmured... The Mother of Machines? Why could he not hear her clearly?

He sang louder still, certain his voice would reach all members of their force — be it Alabaster or Chrome — and through the omenpath itself to the Mother of Machines. In the echo of his song, he would find stable ground-

His next step — had it been a step forward, towards his soldiers, or backwards, towards the omenpath? — found nothing but empty air, the wood underneath him rotting and opening into an abyss.

He quickly spread his wings, trying to stabilize and go back to where he had been even as he was spun around by gravity and air resistance, until his body met the ground with a loud crack and roaring pain and his consciousness left him.

When he woke up, one of his wings broken after taking most of the force of his fall, he did not know how long he had laid there. It could not have been long, certainly, for the Chrome Host would have certainly sent a drone to retrieve him given enough time — shameful as it might have been — and yet he laid alone, the silence of the room cut only by a dripping sound.

(Why was he alone? Why could he not hear the voice of the Mother of Machines)

He looked around, taking stock of the room and how its smooth white walls were almost as beautiful as those of the Fair Basilica, except instead of being made of ivory they seemed covered by... Wax?

His gaze finally fell upon his remaining wing. Rather than being bent out of shape like its counterpart, the limb has been spread behind and to the side of him, and was covered in the same material that covered the rest of the room, already in the process of solidifying. Another drip, directly onto it, served as confirmation.

To fly back with a single wing would prove a challenge, but with two wings damaged it would be impossible. Furthermore, if he was to be forced to drag himself up the hole he had fallen through, the weight of the wax would simply make things harder. Without hesitation, he pushed his claws under the material, right where feathers met wax: Even if some of it had dried already, the ichor that would pour through the wounds would close them quickly, he was certain-

That certainty lasted only until the pain — beyond what he had ever felt, ever knew could be felt — spread from his wing as he pulled the wax off. This- this wasn't normal. He-

The liquid that poured out of his wounds, where wax had pulled feathers and skin and bones alongside it, was not ichor.

It was red... Why was it red?

"What foolish prey, that wanders into an open maw thinking themselves the predators" whispered the Mother- no, this was not her voice. These were not her words.

The walls surrounding him rumbled once again, so hard it seemed the entire world was shaking, before stopping. Then again, before stopping, repeating, stopping, and on and on and on.

As Fez Xa'ktiz laid alone, his wounds bleeding a liquid that should not be there, he knew that the rumbling was certainly the consequences of battle: the Mother of Machines must have heard his last cries and sent forth more soldiers to tame this accursed world.

And yet a small part of him couldn't help but fear that the rumbling felt like a delighted and cruel laughter.

[balis77]

Meanwhile, in New Phyrexia...

Ixhel: *Frantically putting Urabrask back together* “Ok, good, you’re awake. Look, you’re the only Praetor with enough parts to put back together, so I’m gonna need you to help me get control of this whole... situation.”

Urabrask: “What happened?”

Ixhel: “The invasion failed and I’m pretty sure we’re permanently cut off from the rest of the multiverse... oh and all the other Praetors died.”

Urabrask: “Serves them right... so what’s the problems here?”

Ixhel: “The Hunters Maze is on fire, the Progress Engine doesn’t even know what to do anymore, the Dross Pits are in complete anarchy, the Quiet Furnace is... kinda the same really, and with Mother and Norn dead the Machine Orthodoxy is under new management and it’s... not going well.”

Urabrask: “Who replaced them? Ivor? Mondrak?”

Ixhel: “Uh...”

*At Elesh Norn’s old statue throne*

Skrelv: *Maniacal laughter*

[phyrexianphamily]

Jin-Gitaxias: Elesh, if you have a complaint, I suggest you submit it through our network system. I'd be happy to refer you to our overseers.

Elesh Norn: I was told that the Praetor I'd be meeting with was very careful. A cautious one. I believe we are alike in that way. If you are who I think you are, you should give me another chance.

[Jin-Gitaxias' expression doesn't change but his voice subtly does.]

Jin-Gitaxias: I don't think we're alike at all, sister. You are not a cautious Praetor at all. Your angel was late. And she was high.

[ask-the-praetors]

Skrelv, are your children well? And how do you separate yourself and your brood from Norn?

(Chittering)

(Translation: "They are as well as I can make them. I bite all who threaten them. It keeps the enforcers away.")

-Skrelv

[littjara-mirrorlake]

(Not necessarily the concept of the faction as a whole. Just its members.)

Examples of each in order:

[linalina-universe]

I've been praying on this daily. Transgender Christian converts.

Edit: While I do talk about Orthodoxy in this post. I am part of the Episcopal church. I posted this while I was on a journey of faith and It's had it's ups and downs. Please find the church you feel most comfortable in. I've been asking some of the saints, Holy Theotokos, and Jesus our Lord. As well as talking to my Guardian angel as I can. To help Bring my transgender eunuch siblings around the world to Faith in Jesus. Seeing all of the LGBT Christian Blogs recently on Tumblr is making me so Glad. God is Good. God Cares about us. Even if there are teachers in the church who condemn us for being different. Seek Reconciliation, Repentance. Learn to Forgive one another. Learn to Love one another. The path towards Jesus isn't easy. Much learning and Discernment it's a LONG ROAD. But keep learning about Jesus. Don't settle for less, but find a place to plant your roots. If you want to really get into the thick of it learn about Orthodoxy. But it takes time for us to get where we need to be. I do believe God listens to all of His Children though. The Holy spirit is everywhere. I would never judge whether or not a person is damned or saved due to what church they go to. That's up to Jesus, he is the judge. But come as you are. Never let a Church teacher hold Jesus over you do not conform to the whims of man as we are not of this world. Only Conform to the Whims of Jesus. Learn to be humble in life, Obedient to Jesus. Learn about humility. Realize no one person on this earth is any better than another. True humility is a virtue. It takes time to cultivate. We are imperfect. Learn LGBT History, ancient history, learn about eunuchs and Queer Saints. qspirit.net, But realize that many of these things are unkown without a time machine. Be sound in wisdom of our ancestors. Do not be defensive all the time though. Learn when to talk, listen to the silence. Do not let hate, and the machinations of this world such as political ideologies, capitalism control your life. We need money to work in this world. But money and possessions are temporary while Jesus and God are eternal. Pray for the Rich kings and politicians who persecute us pray that they seek Jesus. "It is better to Light a candle than to Curse the Darkness." Do not let the Darkness of media news overtake you. Pray for people around the world suffering. Count your blessings. Realize just how good you might have it. I recommend you learn about the Orthodox Saints of Alaska if you want to learn about actual anti-colonialist Christians. The Saints are wonderful examples of ideal Christian lives. I recommend Trisagion Films on youtube to learn about the saints. While I affirm LGBT relationships and see true Joy in them. I know unless Heaven and Earth are moved. The Orthodox/Romans will never Affirm them. I recommend merely Getting Married under the Law of the Land and then showing up at church. Have a celebration an an episcopal church I love the episcopal angelicans it's a safe respite for us queer Christians. I wish that LGBT marriages had been affirmed decades ago, then maybe some of the self destructive generational trauma we see in the queer community wouldn't exist. But we are a persecuted class and either way people dislike us. I hope someday the Orthodox have church mothers. We need women for the women and girls in the church to confide in. We need equal representation. I understand if not everyone agrees with me. But I love Jesus. I hope that being his servant like the court eunuchs of ancient times can be well pleasing to Him. Eunuchs were seen as angelic. His divine eros fulfills my heart in some ways as someone by tradition of ancient orthodoxy should technically be celibate. Live as yourself and know God loves you. Take your medicine and heal. He will never Give up on you. Art By Devlev on Deviantart. Please support them. They Draw Beautiful Queer art.

[hypexion]

I think one of the big missed opportunities with New Phyrexia is how ultimately all the Praetors maybe minus Urabrask are ultimately flattened into a single "take over the multiverse" unit. Elesh Norn dominates the plane, not just in an organisational sense, but an ideological one. Gestures are made towards the idea of disagreements, but the reasoning behind them is fairly shallow. The Praetors are not one big happy Phyrexian family, but why?

Each Praetor should have a specific idea of what Phyrexia is, and these ideas must ultimately come into conflict. Even those who appear to be in alignment should clash as the details of their goals become clear.

So, what do I think each Praetor should be thinking? Here are some brief summaries:

Elesh Norn sees both Phyrexia and compleation as ends into themselves. The purpose of Phyrexia is spread itself across the multiverse, for All to Be One. This is a blessing, a kindness, a way to end conflict and bring unity. Those who oppose Phyrexia are impulsive and selfish, denying themselves and others absolution, in favour of failed ideals such as freedom. Their destruction is a tragedy, but a necessary one. Like the excision of a tumor, it is unpleasant work, but in the end it is an act of healing.

Norn's ultimate goal is a single Phyrexian multiverse. All moves in accordance to its given purpose, a grand, endless machine. But it is not a silent machine. Hymn and prayer will echo through the compleated halls of the multiverse, the song of Phyrexia filling the branches of Realmbreaker. And at the center, Elesh Norn will finally know contentment.

On the surface, Jin-Gitaxias appears to have the same goal as Norn. Both she and the rest of the multiverse have made a critical misjudgement of the Gitaxian mission. When the Orthodoxy says that something will be made Phyrexian, it is an act of replacement. For Jin-Gitaxias, it is an act of consumption, the harvesting of a resource. All that is not Phyrexian will be rendered down, dissected into component parts. The greatest honour that can be given is for these parts to considered worthy of assimilation, to be integrated into Phyrexian perfection. Compleation extracts what is needed, and discards what is not, an endless iteration towards a convergence that may not exist.

For Jin-Gitaxias, there may be no end, no final Phyrexia. The synthesis will simply continue forever, chasing a goal that cannot be found. Or perhaps, once he can see far enough, the greatest secrets of the multiverse will be revealed. In his most fevered moments, Jin-Gitaxias may even consider that Phyrexia itself will become obselete.

As the closest adherent to the ways of Old Phyrexia, Sheoldred sees Phyrexia as a means, rather than an end. She is not superior because is Phyrexian, she is Phyrexian because she is superior. Compleation is a tool, both a reward for the worthy and a punishment for the unworthy. Sheoldred does not need to compleat the multiverse in its entirety. It is simply enough that it bows down before her. As long as the fleshlings know their place and purpose, they can continue to live their worthless lives.

Sheoldred's endgame produces what can, in the most charitable terms, be considered a form of co-existance between the compleat and incompleat. The Phyrexian elite rule, doing as they wish. The rest serve. But the opportunity for compleation is always there, the ascension to a greater form. Those who succeed shall be lauded. Those who fail will wish they had never tried.

Like his closest (?) sister (??), Urabrask sees Phyrexia as the means rather than the end. But while Sheoldred sees it as her tool to subjugate her enemies, Urabrask has come to see Phyrexia and compleation as a path to freedom. To many, it is an alien form of freedom, a freedom from your own limits, from your form and the world around you. You are your own great work, and you define what that means. Phyrexia gives you the tools to achieve it. And if there are those who oppose you? Well. They have the freedom to try. You have the freedom to retaliate until you are free from their opposition.

In the end, Urabrask believes that Phyrexia will be the self-evident choice. There will be no coercion because it will be unecessary. Some will merely dabble with compleation, while others will dedicate themselves fully to Phyrexia. Urabrask claims Phyrexia's victory in this form as an inevitability. Thus, where others claim tolerance, he is truly honest.

Vorinclex claims he has no ideology, no driving principle. He lies, to his followers, to his allies and enemies, and to himself. He believes in the supremacy of strength and violence, a "natural order" that is anything but natural. He desires a world without ideas such as cunning, cooperation or beauty, to him concepts linked only in their lack of worth. Yet these things emerge from nature, a million pressures selecting for their survival. Vorinclex claims thought is the opposite of strength, but he knows in truth it is its own kind of strength.

But the true seed of Vorinclex's madness is that he knows Phyrexia cannot be inevitable or eternal. Change is the only constant, and in time Phyrexia will change until it is no longer Phyrexian. That is if it survives. Like Jin-Gitaxias, Vorinclex carries a forbidden doubt, that Phyrexia can fall, that there is a greater strength waiting in the multiverse. A strength that has no need of Phyrexia.

Other Phyrexian ideologies are available. Perhaps Atraxa's views diverge from her creators, as her child Ixhel diverges from her. Some in the Surgical Bay may find Jin-Gitaxias' arguments insufficent, while the Hunter Maze holds those who reject the brutality of Vorinclex. Because like our own world, no people is a monolith. Every faith has it's heresy, every cause its divisions.

And given how Magic's five colours, well, colour how its worlds exist, so to should they colour New Phyrexia. As Ravnica holds ten guilds, Strixhaven five colleges or Tarkir five clans, New Phyrexia should in truth hold five Phyrexias.

[phyrexian-phucker]

More Phyrexian biology bc why not!

What are the main differences between Phyrexian genitalia across factions? And would 2+ color Phyrexians also have a merge of the different types?

A note on terminology (sorry, I'm being pedantic and wearing my biologist hat again, this is out of love): I don't refer to Phyrexians' parts as genitalia because those are defined as sex organs, tools of sexual reproduction, and Phyrexians don't do that. (This is also why you won't catch me using anatomical terms like "penis" or "vagina" to refer to Phyrexian dick or pussy. They're not that, they're just superficially analogous structures!)

That said, Phyrexians can definitely have structures added to their crotches (or elsewhere) that resemble the ones mentioned. They can be designed for pleasure, and they're even for reproductive purposes... just not sexual reproduction. Anything designed to spread oil is a reproductive organ. The entire Phyrexian body, even, if you wanted to be generous with that definition.

Machine Orthodoxy: As one might infer from their architecture and general vibe, the Orthodoxy loves pussy. Elesh Norn expects her followers to worship hers, of course, and much of the Orthodoxy's sculptures are modeled after its likeness. Some Orthodoxy members are equipped with dick, though, which is base red sinew sheathed in porcelain plating. My personal headcanon about the Phyrexian Vindicators is that they're secretly hung, sized to satisfy Norn herself.

Progress Engine: Needles. Probes. Everywhere. Every injector doubles as a hyper-sensitive data collection instrument which just so happens to link up to the pleasure centers of the user's neurocirculatory lattice. And don't forget the tentacles... they can see out of those, you know.

Steel Thanes: Standard dick and pussy are in there, oil-streaked steel dripping with corrosive necrogen and ichor, as well as a great variety of what one can only call BDSM/torture devices as body parts. Anyone who grafts themselves to a mount probably has a wild array of pleasure options attached to each. Including the toothy mouth.

Quiet Furnace: Every pleasure device created in the Furnace is, in some way, a work of art--even if the creator's idea of art is rickety and liable to explode. Experimentation and self-expression are most encouraged here. Like every other Furnace Phyrexian body part, they glow a molten orange from inside, and increase in temperature with arousal.

Vicious Swarm: "Vagina" dentata, obviously. Every Swarm body part can eat you and this is no exception. Creatures that can fleshsculpt, like Vorinclex, can have whatever they want, whenever they want. Lots of bulging veins and vines, much fleshier than the other factions, teeth.