Biopsy Punch
The infiltrator smiled to herself. Her mission had been dictated by the highest authority imaginable. Her target suspected nothing. Entry had been nearly effortless, the catflap in the back door of the Boutique left unguarded and unsecured. From there, it was a simple matter to approach the only source of sound in the building.
The infiltrator paused for a moment, savoring the anticipation. When she could resist no longer, she shoved open the door to the inspiration room and leapt inside, shouting to keep her target disoriented: "Hi, Rarity! Mom wanted me to check on you, 'cause Dad and her don't want you joining the militia, and I don't want you getting hurt either, and..."
Sweetie Belle trailed off, finally registering the scene before her. A gaunt dragon stood with its bloodied claws buried in her dear, sweet sister's back, while Rarity stared at her with fearful, pleading eyes. The filly reacted in away that she knew would make her sister proud. "Fainting couch, please."
As Sweetie collapsed, Spike cleared his throat. "Well, this is awkward."
"Quite," murmured Rarity. "How far along are we with the implantation?"
The dragon considered his handiwork. "One moment more, milady." He blew a plume of noxious flame over the socket he'd installed in the mare's shoulder, disinfecting and sealing the surgical incisions while charging the device with dragon magic.
Rarity gritted her teeth. She knew Spike was being as gentle as he could, but it was still dragonfire. "We must find a better way to finish the job."
"'Tis but a prototype, milady," Spike assured her. "More elegant designs will come with time. Now, as for your sister?"
"Of course." Rarity slid off of the impromptu operating table, encapsulating her sister in her magic. "I'll go put her in the guest room. Hopefully, we'll be able to pass this off as a nightmare."
Spike frowned. "What of your parents?"
The fashionista squared her shoulders, her features hardening into a mask of determination. "I have helped save the world from eternal night and chaos incarnate. A few days ago, I almost single-hoofedly held off an attempted invasion of Ponyville. Mother and Father are just going to have to accept that their eldest is destined for heroism."
The dragon nodded. "So you'll be telling them personally, then."
What little color there was left Rarity's alabaster-coated face. "Er, yes. I suppose so."
Spike gave a crocodile grin. "You're the heroine."
Gilda would lying if she said she had no regrets in her life, especially in regards to Rainbow Dash. Still, it just wasn't meant to be. Griffin-pony relations were strained in the best of times, given irreconcilable differences in both attitude and diet. One unusually cool pegasus couldn't change millennia of equine dweebishness and the tantalizing properties of horseflesh on the griffish palate. A friendship such as theirs lasting in the long term was impossible.
Of course, Rainbow Dash didn't know the meaning of the word "impossible." Or "irreconcilable." Or "tantalizing." Or...
The point was, a rocket-powered pegasus blasted past the fatalistic griffin, did a somersault, and came to a stop in front of her. Resting on a cloud of her own exhaust, Dash scowled at her friend. "What the hay, G?"
Gilda hovered in place as her brain tried to work out what just happened. "Dash?"
"You think you can just blow off your CO, barge into my house, insult my species, and then flap off into the sunset?"
"It's, like, not even noon."
"Well you've got another thing coming, catbutt!" Dash scowled. "Look, we both messed up. You should've chilled out, I should've noticed you weren't having fun. I definitely should've tried to patch things up." She sighed. "We both kinda suck at the whole 'friend' thing sometimes. But that doesn't mean I never wanted to see you again."
Gilda shook her head. "It's way too late for this, Dash."
"It doesn't have to be! You don't have to go kill yourself in glorious combat or whatever just 'cause we butted heads!"
The griffin snorted. "Please. You think I'm gonna get killed? Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I'm not plannin' on a dirt nap any time soon."
"Oh."
"Yeah. So what's with your wings?"
Dash shrugged. "Some weird magic thing. I can go, like, ludicrously fast, but it makes me really hungry. Plus, it's kinda hard to hover now. I'm still figuring it out."
"Cool." Gilda blinked, then facepalmed. "Ugh, I really don't have time for this. Look, Dash, it's cool that you want to make up for the whole Ponyville thing, but right now? Kind of a bad time, in case you didn't notice. I gotta get back to Canterlot soon. Sarge'll notice I'm gone sooner rather than later, and I don't know about you ponies, but griffins really hate deserters. Later." She resumed her course for the capital.
Dash scowled. She still didn't have enough control over her new propulsion to match her friend's pace. "This isn't over, G!"
"Whatever."
"You're still a catbutt!"
"And you're still a talking entree!"
Grumbling to herself, Rainbow streaked back to Ponyville. Much as she hated to admit it, they needed her more. Gilda had a whole army looking out for her. Ponyville had a clockmaker, a dentist, a conspiracy theorist, and a mailmare. And her.
Gilda continued her flight to the mountain city, her broad wings catching thermals as they wafted up from the plains and lesser peaks. Maybe, just maybe, Dash was cool enough to make restoring their friendship worth the effort. Maybe.
With near-perfect synchronization, two frowns became smiles.
Self rustled, foreign sensations ze could not name bombarding it. So much more than touch, so much more than smell! It was like the flashes Self got when victims touched hir, but unceasing!
"Well, this isn't nearly as interesting as I'd hoped."
Wind blew from inside Self. Another alien sense! The first gust brought more wind. It kept happening!
"Ugh, enough already. I grew out of my eldritch abomination phase a long time ago. Broken minds are nowhere near as fun."
A sharp snap sounded. Self paused, recognizing the sound as a snap. And a "sound." Which was something one "heard." Similarly, the sounds ze had been making were "screams." Self's head spun with an entire new vocabulary.
After a moment, Self realized there were other new senses ze had shut down in self-defense. Hesitantly, ze opened what ze now knew were "eyes." A wide expanse of "blue" surrounded hir. A strange unease squirmed in Self's stem. These were hir family, hir comrades. Self was the first poison joke to ever see, not just scraps of memory from victims, but through hir own eyes. It was... strange.
"Not used to being the pranked rather than the prankster? Chaos knows I can sympathize."
Self looked around, getting a firmer grasp on the concept of "neck" in the process. "Hooo..." Ze paused and licked hir lips. Speech was harder than the mystery voice made it seem. "Who are you?" the plant managed.
"I am your creator twice over," the voice answered. "I am the one who gave an unsuspecting weed contact telepathy, transmutative poison, and a sense of humor. I am the source of the jewel around your neck. I am the cosmic keystone that keeps this universe from collapsing under its own contrivance. And I am so very, very proud of what you have already done."
Self looked down. Sure enough, there was a crystal set in a vibrantly colored loop around hir neck. The jewel's shape was reminiscent of a normal poison joke plant, only bright red. The loop itself was the correct shade of blue, almost lost against Self's cuticle. "What did I do?" ze asked, only half-listening.
"Merely by awakening the Element of Mischief, you have already reshaped your body in a way that doubly impossible," said the unseen cosmic keystone. "You have assumed a form this world does not permit and a role it does not possess."
Self examined the two shoots on either side of hir blossom. They were flexible, yet firm, ending in five branchings. Ze could feel the countless thin vines that wove together to form these "arms." Ze realized the voice had stopped. "Is that good?"
"For what I have in mind? It couldn't be better. Now all you need is a name."
Self frowned, running hir branches over hir face as ze did so. So strange... "I am Self."
"Yes, I noticed. The problem is, so is every other poison joke."
"Yes. They are their Selves. I am my Self. So?"
The voice sighed. "Look, out here in the world of the ambulatory, there are a lot of Selves. So you're going to need something to distinguish yourself from their Selves and... whatever. The point is, pick a name, pick a gender."
"Gen...der?" Self thought of parasprites, the only species that could safely pollenate hir kind. "I have both stamen and carpel."
"Whoa, whoa, keep it PG! Okay, it's clear you have no idea where to even begin. I'll take care of that. Since you're the next stage of a joke, let's call you Punchline. As for gender..." A strange ringing sound came from the same nowhere as the voice, abruptly interrupted by a firm slap. "Tails. Female it is."
Self, no, Punchline spun in place like a grain of pollen on a breath of wind, coming to a stop just before turning a half-circle. "Now, head in that direction, and the rest should come naturally."
"Okay..." Punchline waded through hir... her brethren, knowing she would not harm them and hoping they would not think her a victim. Friendly rustling reassured her. She might be a bizarre entity with abilities and senses wholly alien to normal plants, but family was still something she could have faith in.
Unconsciously smiling, the first dryad of Equestria sallied forth.
The exodus from Ponyville had slowed to a trickle. By this point, most ponies had made their choice between fight and flight. Even the most indecisive found the decision streamlined by the very real threat of death, dismemberment, and worse.
However, while outgoing passengers on the Friendship Express had dropped, those incoming were still considerable. The Apples weren't the only big Ponyville family to issue a call to arms. Cakes, Harvests, Kickers, Radiators, and more were summoned from across Equestria, the sleepy little town rousing itself to defend all it held dear.
Amongst these gathered siblings, cousins, and other relatives, a single Pie left the train at a deceptively calm pace. She supported a massive instrument case across her back, a pair of saddlebags sized for a much larger pony at her sides. She seemed not to notice the weight, earth pony magic, a foalhood on a rock farm, and years as a professional giving her strength that belied her sleek frame.
Had anypony asked her precisely what kind of professional she was, she would've answered, "cellist." This was correct. It was not, however, entirely true. A lie of omission was still a lie, for all that even the Bearer of Honesty could manage one with a straight face.
Given knowledge of her family line, many would expect the monochrome mare to make a beeline for the Sugarcube Corner. They would be wrong. While her course was straight and sure, it took her near the former site of the town library. She paused for a moment to take in the tree's sudden absence before dismissing the development, continuing to her destination, a cottage that wasn't much different from most of the other houses in town, save for one detail. One window was decorated with a pair of eighth notes over a treble clef.
A knock summoned the house's resident. The unicorn lowered her purple shades. "Tavi? Wasn't expecting you. 'Specially not with all this horse hockey goin' on."
Incantessa Octavia Pie smiled in spite of herself. "It's good to see you, Vinyl."
"Likewise," answered the DJ, moving aside to let her love inside. "Luna's flanks, girl, think you brought enough?"
"Wasn't sure how long I'd be staying."
"Huh. Well, lemme get some of that for ya." Vinyl's horn glowed with the same electric blue as her hair as she hoisted the cello case off of Octavia's back. She shuddered as leverage threatened to send her brain slamming through her jaw. "Gah! The hay is this thing made of, rocks? Lead? Your mom's baking?"
Octavia chuckled as she set down her saddlebags. "Well, it's hardly my fault if that sensitive unicorn palette of yours can't handle the rustic cuisine of a traditional rock farm."
"Rock cakes aren't supposed to actually contain rocks!" The case thudded to the floor as Vinyl rubbed her aching horn. "Ugh. Seriously though, what's in there?"
"The unusual."
The unicorn stopped midstroke. "As in, the-usual-that-isn't-the-usual the unusual?"
Octavia smirked. "Is there any other kind?"
"Huh." Vinyl grinned. "Awesome. Possibly also radical. I'll have to consult with Rainbow Dash on that one, though. I'll get the cannon."
"But—"
"No!"
"But I—"
"No!"
"If you would just—"
"¡Absolutamente no!"
Address Unknown quirked an eyebrow. "You speak Castallion now?"
Ditzy wingshrugged. "Enough to order in a Mexicoltan restaurant." She refreshed her scowl. "But that's not the point! You are not joining the militia!"
Address sighed. "Ditzy, they need every able-bodied pony they can get! You said so yourself!"
The pegasus stomped for emphasis. "But not you! I didn't rescue you from the void beyond existence just so you could turn around less than a year later and get yourself killed to satisfy your testosterone's bravado quotient!"
"You really think that's what this is about?"
"Of course! It's your moon-banished male instincts going 'Enemy! Must defend mate and foal!'" Ditzy waved her wings for emphasis.
"Were the jazz wings really necessary?" asked Address.
"Yes," his wife replied, face straight as an arrow. "Yes, they were."
The unicorn sighed. "Early pony social groups were herds consisting of a single stallion and multiple mares. If anything, it's your protective instincts that are coming to the fore."
"The point stands," Ditzy insisted.
Address was silent for a moment. "But... No, it doesn't! I just took apart your entire argument!"
"The point stands because I love you, I'm not losing you again, and I'm the better mage!" The blonde regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth, but it was too late. "Um, that is—"
"No, no, I understand." Address huffed a sigh. "Never thought I'd get in a 'whose is bigger' contest with you, Derpy Girl, but here we are."
Neither pony really knew what to say after that. Thankfully, there came a timely interruption. "Dad? Mommy?"
Both parents gasped. "I thought she was at school!" Address hissed.
Ditzy bit back a curse. "Cheerilee's acting as a drill instructor, remember?"
The fuschia mare paced down the line, examining her recruits. She was less than impressed. "All right then, class. You all know me as Miss Cheerilee, though you can call me Ma'am. Or Sergeant, but I find Ma'am works much better when barked out as you struggle not to wet yourself in fear."
The recruits glanced at one another. This... was weird. If one didn't listen to the schoolteacher's words, she seemed as bright and perky as usual.
"Now," she continued, cheery as ever, "it is my duty to turn you lumps of cold horseapples into something resembling an army. As luck would have it, that seemingly impossible task is quite similar to getting the average foal to sit still long enough to absorb basic mathematics. It is actually easier, since with adults, I don't have to worry about emotionally scarring delicate, developing psyches. If anything, I'm expected to."
She grinned. There was more than a hint of madness to the smile. "So, you have a crash course in soldiering to survive, and I have a teaching career's worth of stress to vent. Let's begin."
"Are you two done fighting?" Dinky asked.
Ditzy swept her into a hug. "Oh, sweetie, we weren't fighting."
"Uh huh. You were just shouting at each other 'cause you felt like it."
Address smirked. "She's got you there." Mother and daughter gave him matched looks of disdain. "Okay, us."
Ditzy sighed. "Dinky, we both just want the other to be safe. We're just not seeing eye to eye about how."
"Yeah, and you're both being stupid because of it." Dinky shook her head at the foolishness of adults. "Dad, is there anything Mommy can say that will convince you not to join the militia?"
"Absolutamente no," Address said with a smirk.
His daughter nodded. "Okay."
"Okay?" blurted Ditzy. "That's not okay! That's—"
"Oh. Kay." Dinky turned to her mother, her gaze chillingly clinical and dispassionate. "Mommy, calm down and think. Is there any way you could keep an eye on Dad, make sure he's as safe as he can be even as he helps to keep everypony else safe?"
Ditzy bit back her first response. She took a deep breath. "I... suppose." She grimaced at the admission. "If I were his direct superior, I'd have an excuse to keep him in sight at all times. Plus, he'd have to do as I ordered."
"I'm right here, you know." Address chuckled. "And I'm not hearing much difference from everyday life."
"So you're okay with it?" asked Dinky.
"Sure. That way, I'd be able to keep an eye on your mother even as she's keeping an eye on me."
"Good." The filly sighed and slumped. "Now act your age! I'm the foal, I shouldn't have to be the reasonable one yet!"
Ditzy hugged her. "You're a good diplomat, my little muffin. I don't know what your daddy and I would do without you."
Celestia looked about the room. Minotaurs, griffins, Diamond Dogs, and stranger, less organized races as well, all came to Canterlot. Representatives of many of them sat before her in the same dining hall that had been serving purely Equestrian efforts at resistance. Be they allies or enemies, in this time of crisis, all acknowledged her as the best hope against the invaders.
"My friends," she began.
This was almost immediately followed by several derisive snorts from a variety of nostrils, which in turn prompted looks of disapproval and the occasional smack about the head. Naturally, these acts of aggression could not go unanswered, and—
"My friends." All action ceased and all eyes turned to Celestia, who still wore that same serene smile. "My friends, though some of us are not quite as friendly as we'd like." This merited a few nervous chuckles. "We have assembled here to discuss how best to combat the force that threatens us all, blind to barriers of nation, species, and creed.
"Individually, each of us is a formidable force, but we face a world united. We must meet them in kind, but not through a unity forged through burning away individuality. Only as a harmonious group, greater than the sum of its parts, can we overcome such might. We must embrace our differences as much as our similarities, use our disparate strengths to complement one another.
"I know we can do this." Celestia's smile widened. "I have faith in you, my friends, as you do in me."
Positive responses rippled through the assembly. At her sister's left hoof, Luna smirked. "So, is there anything else we wish to tell the spy?" She was answered by murmurs of confusion. "No? Very well, then." Inky blackness surged from her horn, enveloping a circular portion of the ceiling. Crackles of blue energy danced along the roiling cloud of darkness for a few seconds, lessening in intensity until they were wholly smothered. Then the shadowy magic contracted to a single point before winking out altogether.
Luna gave a satisfied nod. "Now, to business."
Gitaxias gaped at the portal. "How did she do that?" Whatever magic the alicorn had used had forced the gateway to shut down. He turned to Twilight. "How did she do that? The portal was configured as one-way!"
"The princesses have magics that most ponies can't even imagine," said Twilight. "Logically, that extends to passive abilities like senses as much as it does spells."
"Wonderful..."
"Is that all, Sir? I'm needed elsewhere." Was that a hint of reproach Jin heard in the unicorn's voice? No, surely not...
He waved her away, still facing the portal. "Yes, yes. I need to think."
"Very good, Sir." Twilight trotted off, far more important things already in mind.
Those few servants of Sheoldred who had free will did so because they knew better than to make much use of it. Thus, when she demanded the portal opened, they didn't bother with frivolous questions like "Why?" or "What happened to your hand?" They just did it. Likewise when she ordered the self-destruct sequence engaged once she and her coterie of loyal monstrosities had passed through it.
Sheoldred watched carefully as the portal chamber vanished. Once, it had been the throne room of the Father of Machines. The seat where Karn had sat, rambling as his sanity and body had corroded, was still present, rebuilt into part of a console. The entire chamber seemed as much grown as built, blurring the line between artificial and organic in every aspect of its appearance. The portal itself was a spiky, blackened arch, not unlike the Whispering One's own lower maw.
Satisfied that no pink menaces had slipped through at the last second, Sheoldred turned to behold her new domain, cradling her right hand. She'd had to tear it away from the pony's scalp and had left some pieces behind, but they would grow back. It was a trivial setback, just like this tactical withdrawal. Let the surviving thanes bicker over the old world. The pony would kill them in short order. There was a new plane to contaminate and conquer, and this humble bog would be the praetor's beachhead.
In New Phyrexia, one of the technicians looked at his fellows. "So, how exactly are we going to do this?"
The youngest of the compleated Moriok frowned in confusion. "What do you mean? The mistress ordered the self-destruct sequence engaged. We engage the sequence."
"One problem," noted Seth, senior portal operative, who had earned the right to have a name beyond "you there." "There is no such sequence. Gitaxias's lackeys said something about an 'Evil Overlord List.'"
"Oh." The rookie slumped. "I guess I can see how that would be a problem."
"Or is it?"
The three twisted humans turned. An impossibility trotted about the chamber. "Swanky. The feng shui could use a little work, but really, who expects a dragon to come visiting?"
Seth swallowed. He wasn't made for combat. Literally. "Wh-who are you?"
Pinkie Pie smiled. The five lengths of befouled metal springing from – or possibly plunging into – her skull seemed distressingly familiar to the Moriok. At the same time, they almost resembled a crown sprouting from the pony's scalp. "I'm the reason your old mistress just left. Seems to me that that means you three are now officially unemployed, and here's me looking for up-and-coming young sapients who don't mind getting their manipulators dirty." She waggled her eyebrows. "Wanna rage against the machine?"
The three minions looked at one another. Despite being quite close to the plane's core, they felt horribly out of their depth.
Pinkie shrugged. "You don't have to decide right away. I've got time. All I ask right now is that you leave the portal as is."
The rookie gasped. "But the mistress—"
"Left the plane with her tail between her legs. It's not like she's going to come back and check on you. How could she?"
Seth considered his options. This strange creature was actually asking them, and seemed like it would actually take no for an answer. The choice was clear. He knelt alongside his fellows. "Mistress."
A hoof beneath his chin guided his eyes to meet Pinkie's. She gave a smile warmer than any the human had ever seen and shook her head. "Friend."
Ponyville Drill Sergeant 2WW
Creature — Pony Soldier
Vigilance
Hoofcraft — If you control three or more Ponies, Pegasi, and/or Unicorns, other creatures you control get +1/+1 and have vigilance.
"Love and tolerance have their place on the battlefield, and that place is off of it."
2/3
Pinkie Pie, Partying One 4BB
Legendary Creature — Pony Praetor
Creatures you control have lifelink.
Creatures your opponents control have "Whenever this creature is dealt damage, you lose that much life."
"Miss Bitey-Pants isn't in charge anymore. All will be fun!"
4/4
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Lol. Pinkie just did a Coup de'tat on Sheoldred by herself/. All she needs to do now is take out the Whispering one and her seat at New Phyrexia's Black Aligned Praetor will be added to her list of accomplishments. Looking forward to more.
Cheerilee is best drill sergeant!!!
MLP...
MTG...
Phyrexia...
Aw hell naw... Looks like my MTG Fic is going in the cooler for now.
So wait. Did Pinkie Pie give up her entire planeswalker spark at some point, ending up a non-planeswalker, rather than a post-Mending planeswalker?
Muahahahaha. I wonder how Pinkie's presence will change the Mephidross. Maybe neon decorations to give it a cyberpunk vibe? And how will it affect the creatures that live there?
Your card ideas are always good. But this new Pinkie card? I absolutely LOVE it!
And now we shall see the difference between 'Fallen' and 'Corrupted'.
A Poison Joke dryad. Oh boy. That seems... bad. Like, Yawgmoth Father of Machines bad.
2400995
Now don't say that. I always like seeing more FiM:tG crossovers. Remember the Simpson Principle: Just because someone else has done the idea doesn't mean you can't do it better, or differently, or both.
2401022
Glistening oil and the planeswalker spark interact... strangely. Sometimes the spark provides immunity to infection. Sometimes the infection's corrosive effects on the soul snuffs out the spark. In Pinkie's case, for the purposes of this story, it's the latter.
2401048
You'll have to wait and see, though I do like the idea of neon. Very William Gibson. You're actually not terribly far off in terms of one upcoming development...
2404735
And she's one of the good guys!
2405228
In the cooler as in, put off to read this. I'd dare not scrap it. Not to mention, both of our idea's while at heart, both are crossovers with MT:G, our tones will be different, and stories will be completely different.
So, Pinkie Pie is Exquisite Blood as a creature on crack?
I approve!
Is it odd that I want to see a picture of Punchline the Dryad? You made her sound interesting,and did you actually flip a coin for her gender?
I'm looking forward to the next update!
You can't see Urabrask!
imageshack.us/a/img593/4388/durdlingaroundapr29.jpg
Vorinclex the Hidden
imageshack.us/a/img6/2015/durdlingaroundmay27.jpg
The newest members of the Dimir guild!
imageshack.us/a/img835/1026/da040513.jpg
1. Did... did Pinkie just subvert a bossfight by recruiting the boss's minions?
2. Is anyone else still unclear as to whether Rarity has been consumed by the Machine? Because I sure as hell can't tell.
3. Rocket Wings? Really man? I mean, yes, but at the same time: REALLY?
4. You may want to consider some sort of newly developed thrust vectoring capability out of Dash's hooves via magic and such. High speed implies high momentum implies difficult to turn sharply, so being able to push yourself one direction would be useful.
5. Additionally, rocket propelled explosive confectionary might be something to consider. Considering you already have freezecicles, you may as well have high explosive pies or something.
6. Octy's thing with the cello was magnificent, as is Vinyl actually having a Bass Cannon. Pinkie is getting increasingly terrifying, Twilight is surprisingly normal, and if Applejack manages an Honesty Cannon of some kind, I will buy you beer/your beverage of choice for at least a month.
7. Lastly, excellent work, as expected, continue kicking ass.
8. Oh, almost forgot: You have a tendency to end epic speeches with something informal but heartfelt. This may work for someone like Pinkie Pie, but Celestia doing it was kinda weird, and Applejack doesn't really feel like she'd pull a "NOW LET'S KICK SOME ASS". Otherwise, continue as you are.
Where did you get the story title image?
3956283
If you put your pointer over it, you should see a little box in the lower-right hand corner that says "Source." If not, that box would take you here when clicked.
I thought this story was very cool too, if maybe a little grimdark (then again, Phyrexia is supposed to be dark). I'm curious why you put a halt to it, given that you never did reboot anything, though I'm guessing the answer is just that it was too dark and you wanted to write something more pony-ish. Is it still canon to your personal Derpy-is-a-Planeswalker universe though?
5454964
Probably. It's not like any other bits of him match.
5452634
It was never canon for the other stories. That's what the framing device at the beginning is supposed to indicate.
As for the failure to reboot... well, I have something of a bad procrastination problem, and New Phyrexia isn't exactly a relevant setting at the moment. I do want to get back to this and trim some fat. It's just the question of when that's tripping me up.
Is this dead? Cause I was liking where it was going.
5687617
Phyrexia doesn't die. It waits.
Specifically, it waits until I have enough available time and creative energy to rejigger this horribly bloated story into something manageable. I should've known this one would grow out of control.
5688710 Funny they said the same about Phyrexia.
Somehow I didnt have this favorited. Eagerly awaiting the reboot.
Waiting the reboot
All will be fun!
So, this isn't dead, right?
Okay, in its current form, this puppy needs a crack team of five writers, just to handle all of your divergent plotlines. That's without even considering the various editors we'd need to haul in to police them.
The individual scenes are nice. But it cannot be denied that the sum of the parts is at best a jumbled mess.
Forcing a gender upon someone? Arbitrarily? Not cool.
I ended up reading this for completion's sake, and it's reminded me that I'm still salty over NPH*. And the Mending. And all three return to blocks.
*New phyrexia, not Neil Patrick Harris. I have no problem with him.
I wanted more MtG crossover from FOME, but this one is dead for so long... Will it resurrect one day, or can I lose hope? Kinda don't want to read a story that will never get an ending...
Still have the Ravinica one to read, though
Looking eagerly forward to this thing’s continuance, if for no other reason than Punchline and Crackle being adorable
Have to ask, though: this is still word of brain-in-a-jar, right? At some point we’ll cut back to Ditzy and she’ll try to prevent this invasion stuff, right? Will we still get to see Crackle and Punchline?
Dunno why exactly I was thinking of Punchline again, but I was.
That musing about her family still treating her as one of them! So sweet!
And didn't realize until now, that she's likely still got Touch Telepathy and Transmutative Poison. The latter, vs. Glistening Oil = ???.
Is this ever going to be completed (or compleated)? Been hoping to read the entire thing in one go once it's finished.
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... Maybe? Appropriately for a story about Phyrexia, the plot metastasized until I couldn't keep track of all of the story lines. I'd probably have to reboot the whole thing. We'll see when Karn gets back to New Phyrexia with the Happy Fun Bowl.
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New Phyrexia is back in the news recently....
Huh, Just came back because I made a connection I dunno if you intended...
Punchline's Sapience leading to tons of screaming, but Discord solved that... Is similar to how Pumpkin related her incarnation of a tooth with teeth in: https://www.fimfiction.net/story/17719/11/sideboard-of-harmony/haec-stupri-cucurbita
...
Does that mean that Pumpkin only failed in getting answers because she wasn't as trained or experienced in incarnating things?