Mara, Hugger of Gods @DialMforMara@wubrg.social

gun that shoots time

who does Mark Rosewater think he is, telling me how mtg cards were designed, like head designer or something

Some ideas on a space opera-themed Magic setting:

https://write.as/levelsinsearchofagame/space-opera-magic

(I'm sure the list of tropes and card names could be expanded tenfold, I'd love more ideas for them!)

If your pronouns are sometimes or always "they", please fill in this short survey. :)

https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSfvkjWbY4igCbJxeIpMY8TD6nLucSu2gHPUF6szsbyM1d-YKQ/viewform

(It's short in terms of not many questions and they're quite easy with many checkboxes, and also short as in it closes on Sunday 23rd Feb 2020!)

#pronouns #nonbinary

@fox_news Arright, fuck it, someone has to and no one else will. Favor bounty for the first 3 accredited economists no more than 3 social links from me to credibly offer to help, and if that goes through, another favor bounty for someone willing to edit the result into something readable. DM me, please.

is there a single one among us who has not been traumatized by something in their life?

"You don't have to do this is you don't want to," they tell her.

"A dangerous, state of the art, never before seen piece of Artifactory, that's gonna be unimaginably powerful and hopefully thumb her nose at the Metro," Rose says, flatly, "And you think I might say NO to test drivin' it?!"

But the copy, again, seems to work. Static arcs across Rose and the copy, it absorbs the mask and the statuette, and takes it's place floating beside Dahfui.

Tebasha has summoned a tiny version of the trains, with a tiny horse automaton pulling it, just big enough to give rides around the park to children. This prompts a delighted shriek from Rose Sirmilio, the famed engineer. "How you DO this?" she says to Tebasha, "It's perfect! The details is amazing!"

After conferring with the party, and the gods able to answer, it's decided to see if Rose's copy is a suitable vessel for Kataranya.

"But after he run in with you, it were like he was a different person, and that were BEFORE he was literally a Different Person!"

Tarjuk pours him a cup of moonshine. He looks at it doubtfully. "You know what this is gon' do to me, right?" In response Tarjuk pours another cup for himself. "Fair enough."

He drinks it and transforms, but seems no more cheerful in werewolf form. So Tarjuk introduces him to the Werewolf rights group, gathered around Mistolin.

Tarjuk is approached by a surly-looking orc. "Hey. I remember you. Ya'll ruined my life!"

It takes a moment, but he recognizes Gourbar, the orc werewolf who had been deputy to Sheriff Grant, the depraved and corrupt werewolf sheriff that tried to arrest them when they first Walked to Onumbrica. "He weren't the best boss, he weren't even good to me, but gadsdangit my life made sense with him!"

"So, where's Seth?" On being informed that he's with Mathael, he grins wickedly. "Mathael's here too? Ohhh, I been wantin to meet him for a long time!"

Ariel wishes him luck and concludes that if Seth is in over his head it's probably no more than he deserves.

"Nobody makes a parliament," Chaplet says. "They make themselves." This is what you get when the DM is determined to have a good guy with a Jund color identity.
Mistolin reassures Ariel "Isn't there strength in numbers?"
Firiel chimes in "What better defense against those who would not see the gods return, than those who would?"
In any case, the Parliament is already starting. People are gathering around campfires, exchanging songs and stories.

His eyes widen.
There's a sense of an unfathomably large presence rushing into the tent through the statue and mask, and the copy starts to change. The statue sinks into the metal, the mask merges with the face, it gently floats into the air.
"I can... feel it," Mathael gasps, "It's beautiful..." and then the old leonin collapses into a chair as the connection breaks. "Gods... for a second, I... WAS him. Them. Whoever they turn out to be..."

Mathael offers his hands, but lets them drop when she doesn't take them. "What's my life's work, if not this?" He sighs, "I won't say I ain't afraid, but... I wouldn't be sure it was the right thing to do if I wasn't afraid of it."
Which isn't just persuasive, it makes it clear which God Mask to try on the copy.
Mathael takes the Dahfui statuette, grimaces at the flood of double perception, and then hands the statue to the copy as they put the mask on it.

Tarjuk and Tebasha are initially reluctant, but they agree to at least see if it's possible to use Woven of Smoke and Steel on themselves. Tarjuk volunteers to be the first test subject.

The results aren't super encouraging. Tarjuk finds his sight, hearing, all perceptions doubled. He can fully feel both his and the copy's bodies, and is having a lot of trouble telling which of him is doing something or having something happen to them.

The Mayor is not, at first, cooperative, but Ariel and Tigris manage to persuade her that permitting the gathering is going to be significantly less work than trying to stop it.

They get back in time to see the debate start. Sturmkraw has proposed that, if they don't want to ask for volunteers to be vessels, that they use the same magic that has been making statuette copies of the gods and make copies of people, then put the masks on THEM.

The human Sheriff of Lest We Forget is waiting there, and asks to speak to Ariel. They’re wearing the tunic that goes with a women’s sheriff uniform, but the trousers that go with a men’s. They ask her to go to the mayor for permission for all these… travelers and strangers, to camp in the woods around the park. Which is what they seem to be doing anyway. "I don't want to have to arrest nobody, and if they been invited, then I won't have to, you see?"

They stopped at Wayside Parliaments, and those were like the old poetry cafes, "so now I hear there's a GREAT Parliament, and if that don't do it, I dunno what will. I ain't missed it, have I?"
Venqwyn was able to assure them that as far as she's aware, there's been no Parliaments yet, and that the story they just told sounds a lot like a song their soul is singing. The itinerant seemed much encouraged, but Venqwyn went on wondering what they'd been talking about.