#mirrans

[haaaaaaaaaaaave-you-met-ted]

Storm the Seedcore by Jason Rainville

[askoldjin-gitaxias-blog]

Why does Urabrask have a soft heart and why is that his weakness?

In terms of absolute hardness, constantly running around while semi-molten does nothing for his integrity. Figuratively speaking, I can't say for certain why he feels merciful towards the Mirrans, but if one of his more ruthless enforcers doesn't take advantage of that pity and usurp him, then the Mirrans themselves will inevitably thank him for his kindness by killing him.

[askoldjin-gitaxias-blog]

So, how many Mirrans has your Progress Engine tortured to death today? Just asking.

Today? To death? Rhmir, what are the records for today?...Ah. Only seven. The thing about death is that it's so final for the incompleat. The data starts getting unreliable after too many resuscitations.

[askoldjin-gitaxias-blog]

"I'm the foolish one? And you don't see the hole in your ranks? The one that has no Phyrexian nature. Your own brother, Urabrask. He's already viewed as a hero by the refugees. The drive behind his mana affiliation is just and courageous. Aren't you afraid of that?"

I'm impressed. You are surprisingly knowledgeable in the ways of magics foreign to your universe, to say nothing of Phyrexian politics. Are you a planeswalker, little unicorn, or are you simply exploiting resources better suited to the Element of Laughter?

As for my skulking brother, to call him a hero to the Mirrans is a gross exaggeration. He may leave them be, but he does nothing to truly aid them. His enforcers still spread ruin and despair. His forces still hunt down any incompleat creature that dares show itself in the Oxidda Ridge. And if nothing else, my other siblings and I outnumber Urabrask four to one. He knows that we will tolerate his soft heart only so long as it does not impede the Great Work.

Furthermore, even if I hadn't been aware of Urabrask's weakness, I certainly would be now. You may want to stop before you ruin any hope the Mirrans might have left.

[askoldjin-gitaxias-blog]

"As fancy as your words may be, you can't stand behind them. They can't protect you. One day, a dawn of righteousness shall arrive, and you'll be caught unaware, in your lab. Your ideas will crumble, you and your brethren will fail. Phyrexia will fall."

You would be adorable were your ignorance not so grating. You know nothing of which you speak, equine. The Mirran-Phyrexian War is long over. Those who would usher in your "dawn of righteousness" are refugees living where we tolerate them for the sake of maintaining a minimum stock of raw materials. An iteration of your own universe succumbs to us even as I type this.

And yet, there you sit, spouting empty platitudes a world away. I look forward to seeing your distaff counterpart kneeling before my sister, her skin flensed and her body compleated. Perhaps then you will understand just how foolish you are.

[askoldjin-gitaxias-blog]

I was wondering, does your environment request any precautions to house common human beings? I would like to be prepared, in case of a future visit by me. And on that note, whenever you find some time off from your research, I've managed to free my schedule to be able to welcome you whenever you want. If there are any sort of preparations I have to make before, do tell me and I'll get to work on them asap.

For the average human, New Phyrexia itself is not excessively hostile. There is a rather significant amount of hazardous and/or mutagenic particulates in the air in some areas, especially in and around the Mephidross, so filtration of some sort is recommended. The Furnace Layer is, of course, very dangerous, given the high temperatures, copious amounts of freely flowing molten metal, and Urabrask's laissez faire attitude towards worker safety. However, if you avoid it, a course of action I highly recommend, you'll be fine. Of course, there is the matter of the tyrranax in the room, mycosynth spores. They are an omnipresent phenomenon that will inevitably convert some of your flesh into metal if you spend enough time here, barring something drastic like a full environmental suit.

Of greater concern would be the inhabitants. There are only two young women devoid of organic metal on the plane, and both of them are sources of inspiration to the Mirran rebels. Even if that were not the case, most of the local fauna would compleat first and ask questions never. Unless you're interested in a full-time position in the Progress Engine, it would be advisable to send your maid as an emissary. The modifications I've made to her will allow her to be recognized as Phyrexian.

Of course, I could just come to you. Given the high psychoplasticity of your home, I am fairly certain that I can provide any environmental needs for myself. Of course, if that would be considered rude, I will be more than happy to employ a simple acclimation spell instead.

[askoldjin-gitaxias-blog]

Once upon a time, in the magical land of Phyrexia...

purplebitsofanalysis:

askjin-gitaxias asked you: I was young once, yes, but that was some time ago. Hmm. Would you like to hear a story?

Yesh! I wanna hear Jinnie’sh shienshe-tifical shtories!

*She sits down with a longing expression in her childish eyes.*

Once, there was a world made of metal, and it was a hollow shell. On the outside were five little suns, and on the inside was a bright, shining core. My siblings and I grew up on the inside, where we made many, many friends. We wanted to make the fellow who made the metal world our friend, but he was a silly old being and barely knew up from down.

One day, we had made so many friends that there simply wasn't any more room on the inside, so we went out to meet the people who lived on the outside. They were frightened of us, because we seemed very strange to them. But to us, they were strange. But we weren't frightened. We were sad, because we saw how easy it would be to make their lives better, to make them less strange, and yet they refused.

So, we did what any reasonable person would do: We did science to them. And we kept doing science to them, one by one, until everyone on the metal world became one big happy family. Then I met a delightful little girl who loved science almost as much as she loved kiwis, but I suspect you know that one.

[askoldjin-gitaxias-blog]

I have yet to hear you speak of any of the other Seven Steel Thanes save Sheoldred. What are your opinions on them, brother?

Let us run through them one by one:

Geth: It goes without saying that I do not trust any of the Thanes, but Geth I mistrust most of all. He is a sly, devious creature, his cunning refined through decades of wheeling and dealing. He is also a collaborator rather than a true child of the oil. Never forget that for all of the Phyrexian engineering that went into his body, it is still governed by a Mirran mind.

Azax-Azog: The Demon Thane's grip on power is entirely through fear, and fear is strongest when understanding is weakest. Furthermore, fear can spur action as much as it can discourage it. His strength is his weakness, and he will not last long in the Mephidross's cutthroat politics if he continues his reign of terror unaltered.

Roxith: The Thane of Rot's hatred of the organic exceeded that of any other being I have ever known, even when it was useful. His obsession with mechanical purity was extreme and off-putting, but I could never wholly disagree. Of course, after the incident with one of our Sister's astral coffers, any opinion I might have about Roxith was rendered moot.

Kraynox: The Deep Thane serves a useful purpose, dedicated as he is to the superstructure and infrastructure of New Phyrexia. His patient strategy, to simply outwait his rivals until after they have slain each other, is also to my liking. If Sheoldred cannot act as praetor, then Kraynox would be my second choice.

Vraan: Another Mirran, though more compleat than Geth. The Blood Thane is little more than an animal, an alpha with a vampiric pack. I do not care for him, and while I cannot dispute the efficiency of his methods, they are hardly suitable for every occassion.

Thrissik: The Writing Thane shares my understanding that there will come a time when we can do no more on this plane. However, he subscribes not to a theory of extradimensional expansion, but a eschatological cycle of destruction and rebirth that will do nothing to further the sake of spreading the Great Work. He is a misguided prophet, unable to see any vision other than the one he wants.