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chefwhatnot · 2 months ago

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A Too-Close Analysis of the Double Exposure Treatments from Duskmourn (1/2)

Happy Prerelease Weekend everyone! During the announcement stream for Duskmourn, Art Director Ovidio Cartagena said that one of the goals of the "Double Exposure" Alt-art treatments was to capture the inner psyches of Legendary Characters. And that immediately tickled my neurons, so I decided to write a bunch about the different Double Exposures and what exactly they suggest about the different characters! This post will feature all the characters from Duskmourn who appear in the Main Story articles, with the rest coming sometime tomorrow probably.

(EDIT: Part 2 is out now! You can find it here)

The Wandering Rescuer-

In profile over the Wanderer is one of Duskmourn’s demons, seeming to show similarities to the demon depicted on the card “Vile Mutilator”. This demon in particular, and presumably other Duskmourn demons, possess the ability to kill survivors’ glimmers. The Wanderer is the only character we see in the story who has a glimmer, potentially because her will and connection to her home plane are strong enough to manifest one before any other members of the party can. So, having that connection to her home, to the place she has sought after for so many years and finally had the chance to return to post-March of the Machines, taken away by a monster… yeah, I can see how the Wanderer might be afraid of that.

Valgavoth, Terror Eater-

Unlike the other double exposure treatments, Valgavoth is the upper layer of this double exposure: he is the nightmare. He blends seamlessly into the door behind him, which is carved with a simulacrum of his core form. He is the House, and the House is Valgavoth. There is no escape from his grasp, etc.

Tyvar, the Pummeler-

Tyvar looks forward, fists raised in a fighting pose. His position suggests fearlessness, but a Cellarspawn still taunts him over his shoulder. “Oh why’d he be afraid of some random Cellarspawn” well he’s not, he’s afraid of what it represents. I posit that this Cellarspawn is the one Tyvar copies when he puts himself and Zimone into House camouflage in the main story. That action, while clever, nearly led to both of them being subsumed into the essence of the House if not for Zimone’s fateshifter. It represents bad change, the possibility that Tyvar isn’t infallible, and the way his transmutation abilities feel uncomfortably similar to that of Phyrexian compleation. But still, Tyvar stands proud and stares forward, ready to courageously curtail whatever may come. Also, only noticed this a bit after originally writing this section, but compare Tyvar’s Double Exposure card to Kona’s. Notice anything? The colors are inverted. Tyvar, the subject of the card, is rendered in magenta, perhaps showing how he is to be feared.

Kaito, Bane of Nightmares-

Kaito is surrounded by gaseous Cellarspawn who shy away from him, flinching back as though in pain. This, combined with his title as "Bane of Nightmares" suggests that there is something about Kaito that the House instinctively cowers from. Which, upon thinking things over, makes sense. He is a planeswalker: he has the ultimate trump card to ignore and escape the horrors of Duskmourn at any time. Plus, he is the only person we’ve seen who was actually able to pose a significant threat to Valgavoth, stabbing him through the chest at the climax of Episode 6. The ghastly cellarspawn are Valgavoth’s creations, and Kaito may be the only one they fear. (Kinda expect Kaito and Valgavoth to have an Ajani/Bolas or Elspeth/Norn relationship maybe.)

Niko, Light of Hope-

Niko is both layers of their double exposure, one calm and confident, the other in pain. Niko’s fears are all internal: fear of not measuring up to their ideals, fear of being forced to go along with whatever plans the powers that be have in store for them. Just as their magic creates reflections, the hand that skillfully balances five of their magic shards is reflected in agony on the "internal" layer. Yet, simultaneously, them being both layers of the double exposure seems to break the rules shown by the other cards. Extremely fitting for a master of their own destiny, wouldn’t you say?

EDIT: @greatdinn pointed out that, in the “internal” art, Niko’s eyes appear to be missing. It could be read as them squinting, but if that is the case it could suggest that Niko’s biggest fear is going blind and losing their skillful accuracy.

Marina Vendrell-

Kinda similar to Victor’s Double Exposure treatment, the wings of a moth is overlaid on top of the subject’s face. However, Victor’s moth is covered in eye patterns, while Marina’s has the shape of a skull on its wings. Victor sees Valgavoth as a source of knowledge or power, Marina knows he brings only death. Notice, too, the way that Victor stares forward, making himself a part of the moth, while Marina glances to the side, attempting to reject its existence. Marina’s only safety now is that of denial: accepting how her actions doomed the plane to an eternity of nightmares would undo her.

Nashi, Searcher in the Dark-

Hey remember that time Nashi was trapped in a cage by a group of wickerfolk who slowly picked off the other Nezumi he cane to Duskmourn with and turned them into wickerfolk? Remember how a similar thing happened when Nashi ran into Tezzeret during that one side story and Tezzeret killed a bunch of Nashi’s friends? Remember how Tezzeret ALSO killed Nashi’s birth parents and everyone else in his village? Remember how everyone who gets close to him meets a horrible fate, to the point that eventually Nashi must find it easier to push other people away, to remain isolated because the only reasonable explanation is that he must be somehow cursed to bring ruin to the people he loves? Yeah.

Winter, Misanthropic Guide-

Winter pinches his forehead, deep in thought. Layered over him is a dagger with a strange handle that morphs into the hand of a corpse. This blade is a reminder of how he betrayed and sacrificed his friend in the house in order to escape Duskmourn. The blade faces the same direction as him, as though primed to stab into someone’s back. The hand is either the hand of his friend, desiccated and decaying, and/or represents the agency he had in the betrayal. Despite his claims that anyone would do the same, it is ultimately a decision he made, a path he followed, and consequences that he is responsible for.

Zimone, All-Questioning-

Over Zimone's face is a book, cover detailed with gnashing teeth and pages flipping ominously in the wind. But, as the story points out, how can there be wind inside the house? Zimone does not know, but she wants to. She wants to know everything, regardless of how outwardly intimidating the container of that source of knowledge may be. The spine of the book makes it look like her eye is closed, which combined with the reflective lens gives her an appearance of sleeping reverie. Her desire for knowledge blinds her to other potential threats, which the House knows and uses to sow the lures of her destruction.

That's it for now! Stay tuned for when I release the rest :)

#mtg #magic the gathering #duskmourn #the wanderer #tyvar kell #kaito shizuki #valgavoth #niko aris

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transitranger327 · 2 months ago

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Of Deeds Greatly Done, a Niko/Tyvar fanfic

Summary: Niko has left their old life behind to study Physics at Shandalar University. Huatli is their literary roommate with a love for birds. Tyvar is a boastful Materials Science major in their classes. Their lives will weave together and their fates will intertwine. Read it on Ao3 or below the cut

—

I gripped my steering wheel too tightly. Everyone called it “The big day!” and, I hoped they were right. Just one stressful day that, once it ended, I could settle in to something more rhythmic. I liked rhythm. A regular timing that I could base everything else on. The less chaos, the better.

Slowly, I approached the dorm entrance. I tried to not think about the line of cars ahead of me that were full of parents helping their kids move in. Not me. I rolled forward two car lengths. A tall, buff man who vaguely looked like he was from my neck of the woods walked up to my car. I rolled down my window.

“Student’s name?” He asked.

“Niko Aris”

“Ah, a solo trip. See that parking space up there, off to the side?”

“Yeah.” I had really hoped I wouldn’t be singled out like this

“Pull into it. Some people will help you grab your things. Take them up to your room, then come back down and take your car over to the garage.”

“Thanks”

“Hey, and if you need anything, I’m Gideon.” His smile was warmer than a summer day in Theros.

I dutifully pulled out of the line and parked in the designated spot. Two upperclassmen in matching green university t-shirts—a woman of red hair, red shorts, and caramel skin, and a fairer man with brown hair, cargo shorts, and a blue hoodie around his wait—crossed the car line and greeted me at my shitty sedan.

“Hey Niko, welcome to Shandalar University, I’m Jace.” He extended his hand toward me. I shook.

“I’m Chandra.” She indicated a fist bump, which I returned. “WhatDoWeNeedToGrab?”

“Uh, just these two bins. The smaller one has some fragile things.”

Jace grabbed the smaller one, Chandra took the larger one. I grabbed my rucksack and poster tube and closed the doors. We crossed the car line and entered the stream of student movers in green. They nudged me into going to the desk. A pale woman in dark black clothes (the shirt having the school logo embroidered in green) sat there, with an array of small manila envelopes before her. “Name?” She asked.

“Niko Aris”

She picked out one, “Room 212”, and handed it to me.

I joined Jace and Chandra and the rest of the movers walking up the stairs. “Hey,” Jace said, “Don’t worry about being a solo move-in. I was one too, a few years ago. You’re gonna do just fine here.”

“That’s an understatement, Jace.” Chandra turned to me, “the man completely forgot when he was supposed to show up, he arrived late at night on day 1.”

The conversation was mercifully short, as we only had to walk up one flight of stairs. We turned to the left, walked past a lounge, and found my room. It was small, and thankfully empty for the moment. Chandra dropped my clothes bin on a roll-out bed, while Jace gingerly placed my shard box on a desk.

“All right Niko, see you around.” Chandra smiled as she stepped out of the room.

“Yeah, see you.” I waved goodbye at Jace leaving with her.

I took stock of the rest of the—no, MY—room. Above the desk hung a floating bookshelf. A light was attached underneath it. A large, hand-cranked window opened between the two halves of the room; my roommate hadn’t shown up yet, I took the left half. Underneath the window was a strange 9-drawer dresser; I’d have to figure out what my roommate wanted to do with that later. On the door end of the room were two closets, an empty space in front of one and a sink in front of the other.

And it was mine. Not my family’s.

I followed Gideon’s instructions and went to park my car in the garage.

—

When I arrived back at my room. A large family was now milling about it, I assumed of my roommate. Several languages were being spoken, but I definitely heard “mama, I got it” a few times. As I stepped in, I counted…7?…8? people. I tried being as discreet as possible, but the oldest man in the room proclaimed, “Ah, the roommate has arrived!”

“Yep, that’s me, I’m Niko, the roommate.”

A woman—slightly shorter than me, with brown hair in a tight braid—reached out, “I’m Huatli, your roommate. These are my parents,”—she gestured to the two people who looked older than us—“and my cousins, because Inti here doesn’t start for another two weeks.”

A man our age—taller, but with a braid the same length as Huatli—added, “Quarter system, teicu, you could’ve had that too.”

“Okay, we’ll get out of your way and let you unpack,” Huatli’s mom declared, as she hugged her daughter. “But if you two need anything, just let us know.” I felt her brown eyes pierce into my soul.

As the gaggle cleared out, Huatli tried apologizing. “Sorry for my family, they can be…a little much sometimes.”

“Nonono, it seems…nice.” I hoped I didn’t sound too desperate for a supportive family. “So, uh, should we introduce ourselves?” I wasn’t quite sure yet how to make friends in this kind of environment.

“We don’t have to.” Huatli turned to continue unpacking, hanging some very nice art prints of various birds. “But I do enjoy a good story.”

“I think I’ll save the storytelling for another day.” I started unpacking my clothes bin. “How do you want to split up the dresser drawers?”

“I suppose we could each have the 3 drawers on our sides. Maybe split the ones in the middle, or they could be for shared things.”

Shared things? “Well I don’t have a lot, not sure I’d take up that much space.”

“Well you still have some things.” She had moved on to shelving her books, “Want to tell me what’s in the box?”

“Oh this? This is my shard box.” My mouth had jumped in front of my brain, I’d never told anyone that I called the things inside it shards.

“Shards of what?” She had emptied one of her boxes of all its books, and turned to listen to me.

“Memories, events, places.” I pulled out a small rainbow button. “This pin was given to my at my first ever Pride. I was so out of my element, but a very kind drag queen gave me this, saying ‘welcome home’.” I showed it off.

Huatli inspected the pin, smiling, “Glad I’m living with a fellow gay.”

It really was a nice prospect, the person I was going to live with not hating who I was. I returned to unboxing my shards. “Every shard has a story, they’re memories made tangible.”

“A different way to tell stories.”

“Yeah…So what’s with all the birds?”

“My family is obsessed with them. My parents are ornithologists, that’s how they met.”

“Are you following in their footsteps?” I resisted the urge to ask if she had a favorite.

“No, actually, I’ve always had more of an artistic interest in them. Mockingbirds especially, singing songs and telling stories of others. I’m studying Creative Writing, if that isn’t obvious now.”

“Oh, that’s pretty cool.” I couldn’t bear to pull my last few shards (my sports awards) out of the box, so I slid it on top of the floating bookshelf. “I’m doing Physics myself, but I did consider studying a humanity or two.”

“Why Physics?”

“I used to play sports. I was always fascinated by how things moved. And I love the rigor of science; practice makes perfect, and all that.”

My clothes bin slowly emptied. Between the three drawers and the closet rack, I was able to stow it all. It took a minute to figure out how the roll-out bed worked, but I managed to put sheets on the mattress. I checked the schedule: 3 pm on move-in day was dorm floor meetings. I was free before then to grab lunch, maybe talk to other people. Huatli was nice, but I was pretty sure I needed more than one friend.

I threaded my room key onto a little keychain I had picked up from a pride festival booth in Glossion. “I’m gonna grab lunch, you can lock the door if you also plan on leaving.” Huatli nodded a quick okay before I started down the dorm’s hallway. The long, tight corridor of cinder block walls funneled the sounds of dozens of new students into my ears: glee, trepidation, ambition, camaraderie. Thru the glass walls of the floor lounge I saw a group of students chatting on couches; maybe another time. I turned into the stairwell to exit the building.

—

Having selected a few slices of roast pork and a side of mixed vegetables, I left the crowded serving area and made my way to the patio seating outside. The day was warm and sunny, the way I liked them (and apparently these kinds of days were not common here in Shandalar). I took an empty seat at a nearly-full table, the others rapt in attention of another student telling a story.

“…and lo, the Trolls had caught me by surprise. I was pinned down, slowly having the air crushed out of me. But I saw my opening, they were too focused on me, not enough on what surrounded them. I grabbed the bottom of the dumpster behind me and yanked it over top of me. It rolled into their faces and slammed the backs of their heads into the pavement. They were too dazed to climb out from underneath it.” The storyteller drank deep from his can of an energy drink whose name I’d never heard. “And that’s how I earned my name, ‘Trollstopper’. The young woman whose aid I came to gave it to me. We never managed to track down the devil who started the fight.”

“And we’re just supposed to believe you, that trolls exist and you fought them.” My skepticism had decided to choose fighting words, but I’d heard and fought plenty of braggarts like him.

He started to laugh, multiple necklaces of charms bouncing on his bare, tattooed chest. “Our new guest did not get to hear the beginning of the tale. The Trolls are the name of a gang of troublemakers from my home town.” He shoveled the vegetables from his plate into his mouth before asking, “so tell me, Steelhair, what great deeds have you done?”

It was the first time anyone had described my hair as anything other than violet. Even those who didn’t sneer at the mere fact I had dyed it, those who supported me still called it violet. I decided to give this red-haired muscle-bundle a shot. But not before I could try understanding him more.

“I prefer to let my actions speak for themselves.”

“But how will others know your actions, if the sagas do not speak of you?” He goaded me right back, “Tell us, so we may speak of you highly.”

I smile, “I never miss. Anything I throw always goes where I will it. I was the star athlete at my school.”

“A claim like that deserves to be shown. Kjell, let’s test the usual tricks” Trollstopper gestured to a tall, bearded, brown-skinned man. Kjell drained his cup, then set it down at the far end of the patio. “First,” Trollstopper said, “toss a rock into the cup.”

“That’s it?”

“Well if you don’t think it’s a challenge, try bouncing it off one of the tables.”

“Now you’re talking.” Behind me was a small area covered with pebbles. I picked out the roundest one. Tossed it between my hands a few times to get a feel for its weight and inertia.

Aim thru the target. Foot back. Arm forward. Fingers release.

Plink, Table edge. Plonk, In the cup.

A chorus of “nice”s and “pretty cool”s arose from the crowd. Trollstopper wasn’t satisfied, he knew I could do better. “Ever thrown one of these?” He held out what I believed to be a golf ball.

“Nope. Never played golf before”

“Three bounces off the ground, then the cup”

I bounced the ball a few times, gauging its elasticity.

Aim thru the target. Foot back. Arm forward. Fingers release.

Plink, Ground. Plink, Ground. Plink, Ground. Plonk, In the cup.

A few hoots and hollers emerged from a now gathering crowd. Kjell tossed the golf ball back to me. “Have them try the V,” he said.

Trollstopper smiled, “Everyone, grab trays and line up into a V.” He directed the assembly to form two lines, angling toward Kjell’s glass. “Four trays, then the cup. I’ve never seen anyone pull something like this off.”

“Maybe you won’t,” I said, “how about a wager?” Getting people to succumb to their overconfidence was always a joy.

“Humilation for the loser, or reward for the winner?” He drew closer to me, allowing me a better look at the rich variety of jewelry he wore instead of a shirt. Pendants carved from rock, thin chains of colorful metals, jewels embedded in wooden charms.

“Reward. Fifty bucks at the bookstore. I need a new sweatshirt.”

“It’s agreed then.” He reached out his hand; we shook. A firm but friendly grip from him. He stepped back to give me space. Someone in the crowd pointed a video camera at me.

Aim thru the target. Foot back. Arm forward. Fingers release.

Plink, Tray. Plink, Tray. Plink, Tray. Plink, Tray. Plonk, In the cup.

Cheers erupted from the entire patio. It felt incredible to be celebrated as I was, not what I was expected to be. Trollstopper just laughed, “well played, Steelhair. You don’t miss.”

—

“So do you have a real name?” We were now walking to the bookstore, “or am I gonna have to call you Trollstopper all year?”

A chuckle, “I’m Tyvar. My family name is Kell, but where I’m from, nicknames are more often used than our family ones.”

We walked past a line of empty tables with “book this for you organization” signs. “And where would you be from?”

Tyvar smiled, “Kaldheim, the land of snow and sagas.” His green eyes had a starry look to them, as if the place was remembered warmly. “So where do you hail from, where you have no warm clothes?”

“I’m from the south of Theros. We don’t get much snow, our weather is mostly like today all year round.” We dodged the ludicrously long line to the register, and made our way to the apparel section.

“And what name do you go by?” he asked, as I picked out a black hoodie with the college logo in green.

“Niko Aris. Tho I do like Steelhair as a nickname.” I said, as we started to head toward the line. “What are you studying? Because I’m pretty sure fighting in alleys and losing bets isn’t a major.”

He laughed, “You know Niko, I like you. I’m studying Materials Science.”

“We might be taking some of the same classes then.” The line advanced. “I’m doing Physics.”

“Excellent,” said Tyvar, “it’s always good to have a friend in class.”

The “friend” caught me by surprise. I wasn’t exactly expecting to make friends this fast, it usually took people longer to figure me out. As the line slowly inched forward, I kept thinking about “friend”. No judgement, not even a pause beforehand. Guys like him usually had plenty for me.

We reached the register. A very exhausted student took my new hoodie, as well as a few candy bars Tyvar had picked up along the line. He paid, and we cleared out of the store.

“Well Tyvar Trollstopper, I guess I’ll see you around then.”

“We’ll meet again, Niko Steelhair.”

As we parted, I felt a longing form in my heart. I desperately hoped we would see each other soon.

—

Notes: “Teicu” means “little sister/cousin” in Nahuatl. This fic treats the various planes as different regions of the same world.

@3rebor you wanted little gay people in your phone

#magic the gathering #niko aris #tyvar kell #mtg fanfic #huatli #vorthos #ao3 #university au #modern au #niko x tyvar #mtg #gideon jura #jace beleren #chandra nalaar

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