angel of the battlefield

Pisces - Losing her in other realms

Pisces illustrates two drenched figures guarding her curved gate, signifying her constant entrance and re-entrance into the spiritual ocean. The Pisces symbol illustrates these winding gates, the entrance is of course obscured, and once she leaves there’s a possibility she will never fully return. When reality becomes static and threatening, she plunges headfirst into the sea to burry her ears with water and tune into another world. You see Pisces do this frequently with books, television, daydream, sleep, their creative work, sex, or substances. There are angels and devils that reveal themselves in Pisces, they are such a porous and diluted essence that any entity - immortal or not can energise from them. They have energy that vibrates well on the spiritual plane and poorly on the material plane. It creates an agitating conflict in the individual, she often feels alien in her own body and form. This is also why people suffering spiritual crises are unconsciously drawn to Pisces, they drink her nectar like they are drowning, but they so often leave her too exhausted to save herself. In her darker moments she submits to devils, luring her into false or fanatic belief systems, becoming hostage to delusion and escapism. There’s a valid reason that Dane Rudhyar refers to the Piscean temperament as a battlefield. But the angel also rides the energetic light of Pisces, and she frequently whispers cosmic messages in some form, tapping into her psychic functions and protecting her from a distance. She wrote a severe contract for earth before incarnating as Pisces. And God knows this, so her support system is rich and active. It’s ensured there are angels, guides, ancestors, and spiritual mentors always on call, this is why so many Pisces make natural spiritualists, healers, witches, and clairvoyants. The 6th sense is how she perceives, feels, knows, and understands the world. The ocean is vast and largely undiscovered, in a spiritual sense it symbolises everything. This is the experience for Pisces. The intensity of containing such spiritual mass is too harsh for a physical body. So the Pisces has many bodies she can swim into. She glides into new states of consciousness and adapts her form with the ease of her changing mood. In all of this mayhem, there is a very peaceful, silent space inside Pisces where she is held by her guides and cocooned in a dreamy coma. Her enlightenments are small but frequent, there are miracles waiting to reveal themselves to her eyes only. Pisces is ruled by Jupiter and symbolises the higher mind. The ancients taught us that imagination is the conduit to entering the higher mind realms. The Pisces imagination is her ticket to the cerebral spiritual kingdom, in her moments of daydream and escape she typically undertakes tremendous, internal spiritual voyages. Along the way lost devils and angels find her light and flicker by her side, energised like moths to a flame, and there are times when she fools us that she is one of each.

-C.

[art: Natalie Shau]

3

Playing around with the Temple Fusion colour palettes - the first is the palette I used for my Temple Fusion battlefield drawing and is reminiscent of Angel Aura
Second is based on regular Obsidian since the art book has concepts of an ‘Obsidian Temple’ and third is based on Rainbow Obsidian ✌️ ️- She’s not actually confirmed to be Obsidian, only named in early concepts so there’s every possibility in the show she’ll be a different gem, but I thought it would be fun to mess around with palettes anyway

2

Gabriel had always flirted with you. You would acknowledge it and sometimes flirt back, witty banter flying back and forth, but that was as far is it usually went. There was chemistry, sure, but there had always been a barrier up–some wall you constructed to keep yourself at a distance–to keep yourself from getting hurt or hurting him… but now something strange was happening…

Gabriel had made one of his typical flirtatious jokes, and instead of just smiling good-naturedly at him and rewarding him with a jovial laugh you were looking at him and biting your bottom lip, your gaze unwavering. He’d never actually caught you looking at him like that before (though it did happen when his attention was elsewhere).

“…What?” he asked.

You grinned at him and shrugged. “Nothing,” you said, the smile frozen on your lips. You looked like you had a secret you were trying to keep to yourself.

“Whaaaaaat is happening? Why are you looking at me like that?” Gabriel asked.

You began to take a few steps toward the archangel. “Like what?” you asked. Your voice was silky and low. It made his hair stand on end.

“Like–like that.” Gabe took a step back and his back was against the wall.

You were right in front of him now, your eyes flickering over his face. He was baffled. You reached up and fixed a crinkle in his shirt collar, then smoothed your hand down the front of his chest. This was the first deliberate physical contact the two of you had ever had and his heart was racing from it like he was on the battlefield with legions of angels behind him. 


This imagine brought to you for Supporting Character Saturday!

Pisces - Losing her in other realms

Pisces illustrates two drenched figures guarding her curved gate, signifying her constant entrance and re-entrance into the spiritual ocean. The Pisces symbol illustrates these winding gates, the entrance is of course obscured, and once she leaves there’s a possibility she will never fully return. When reality becomes static and threatening, she plunges headfirst into the sea to burry her ears with water and tune into another world. You see Pisces do this frequently with books, television, daydream, sleep, their creative work, sex, or substances. There are angels and devils that reveal themselves in Pisces, they are such a porous and diluted essence that any entity - immortal or not can energise from them. They have energy that vibrates well on the spiritual plane and poorly on the material plane. It creates an agitating conflict in the individual, she often feels alien in her own body and form. This is also why people suffering spiritual crises are unconsciously drawn to Pisces, they drink her nectar like they are drowning, but they so often leave her too exhausted to save herself. In her darker moments she submits to devils, luring her into false or fanatic belief systems, becoming hostage to delusion and escapism. There’s a valid reason that Dane Rudhyar refers to the Piscean temperament as a battlefield. But the angel also rides the energetic light of Pisces, and she frequently whispers cosmic messages in some form, tapping into her psychic functions and protecting her from a distance. She wrote a severe contract for earth before incarnating as Pisces. And God knows this, so her support system is rich and active. It’s ensured there are angels, guides, ancestors, and spiritual mentors always on call, this is why so many Pisces make natural spiritualists, healers, witches, and clairvoyants. The 6th sense is how she perceives, feels, knows, and understands the world. The ocean is vast and largely undiscovered, in a spiritual sense it symbolises everything. This is the experience for Pisces. The intensity of containing such spiritual mass is too harsh for a physical body. So the Pisces has many bodies she can swim into. She glides into new states of consciousness and adapts her form with the ease of her changing mood. In all of this mayhem, there is a very peaceful, silent space inside Pisces where she is held by her guides and cocooned in a dreamy coma. Her enlightenments are small but frequent, there are miracles waiting to reveal themselves to her eyes only. Pisces is ruled by Jupiter and symbolises the higher mind. The ancients taught us that imagination is the conduit to entering the higher mind realms. The Pisces imagination is her ticket to the cerebral spiritual kingdom, in her moments of daydream and escape she typically undertakes tremendous, internal spiritual voyages. Along the way lost devils and angels find her light and flicker by her side, energised like moths to a flame, and there are times when she fools us that she is one of each.

-C. 

(art: Yang Na)

Demon!Jason Todd X Angel!Reader- Fallen (Part 3)

Yaayyyy I posted another chapter!! You would not believe the writer’s block I have right now.  Hopefully this chapter has done this series some justice.

Part 1, Part 2

Warning: None that I can think of????

Following the demon with the red helmet, your eyes scanned over every piece of artwork that adorned the walls.  It seemed that your brother fancied collecting pieces from famous artists, and you could clearly tell that he had commissioned every single one from the source.  The demon leading you didn’t seem to enjoy the art like you were, but he had probably seen them many times.  If he was your brother’s second in command, then he must have served him for a long time.  Now that you think about it, the stench of Hellfire no longer smelt like it did on your way here.  The horrendous smell was replaced by a sweet scent, something similar to the smell you experience when roasting a marshmallow.

Immediately stopping when you saw the demon halt his steps, you watched as he placed his hand on a door, the same Hellfire spreading all over the door.  He stepped away as soon as the door opened, allowing you to cautiously enter the room.  Your eyes widened as soon as you saw the Heaven of an elderly woman you had visited many times.  The sunset behind the weeping willow was spot on, casting a beautiful orange light on the hills.  The woman and her husband were not there, laying on a blanket and watching the sunset, but you knew that they were still in Heaven.  Stepping further into the room, you knelt down and felt the grass.  The small, green blades of glass felt smooth against your skin, the dew dampening your hand.  You could even smell the field of flowers on the other side of the hill.

“What kind of room is this?” you asked, turning to face the demon.

He looked around, “It is… enchanted, if you prefer the term.  It provides you with the environment that will provide you with whatever you need.”

“Thank you,” you said, looking around.  “I didn’t think I would ever see this again.”

His head tilted slightly to the side, silently asking you to explain.

“This is a Heaven I frequently visited,” you explained, a small smile crawling onto your face.  “Sometimes it was the only thing that provided me a safe haven from my father and siblings, especially when they were overwhelming.”

“You are the complete opposite of every Angel that I have ever met,” he stated, walking further into the room.

“What do you mean by that?” you asked, following him.

“Angels, well, normal Angels are emotionless warriors and guardians who had protected Earth, smiting any demon in sight.  Only one Angel has been in a room like this, and the battlefield was the environment he needed,” he answered, dragging his hands on the trees as he passed them.  “You, on the other hand have this setting, which is odd, especially with this serene scenery.”

“I can see why you find it odd,” you said, the orange glow slowly fading from view.  “I am a Fallen now, banished from Heaven, and yet I do not search for any revenge or have any anger.  All I have is pain and betrayal.”

“The pain will fade,” he stated, “but it will take time.”

“I wonder how long that will last,” you said, looking down at your bare feet.  “I do not know if I will be hunted and smited with the wrath of Heaven.  Fallen are not meant to survive, suffering is the only thing that is left for them.”

“And yet you can still find peace,” he said, picking up a rolled piece of dark grey clothing from the ground.  “This is yours, I’m guessing that you do not want to walk around in those torn clothes.”

“Thank you,” you thanked him, taking the clothing from his armored hands.  “If I may ask, what shall I call you?  I think it would be rude of me not to ask.”

“I go by many names, but you can call me by my first that was given to me,” he answered.  “Jason.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Jason,” you smiled, holding out your hand.  “My name is (Y/N).”

Jason gently took your hand in his, shaking it, “Even your name does not match the names of the other Angels.”

“I have never heard of a demon with a name like Jason,” you said, tilting your head to the side.  “I guess this is a first for the both of us.”

He released your hand and rested his near his side, “Touché.”

“I am curious, do you always wear your armor?” you asked, scanning over his helmet.

“I do not, but I prefer to wear it when I am on duty,” Jason responded.  “Do you wish for me to remove it?”

“Only the helmet,” you replied, “but if you are not willing to, I understand.”

He paused for a moment, debating whether or not to remove his helmet.  Nodding, he swiped his hand in front of his face, making his helmet fade away, the ash blowing away.  His eyes were the first things you saw, completely enamored by the beautiful combination of red, yellow, orange and even a bit of purple hues.

“Your eyes look like the very sunset that is here,” you smiled, tilting your head.  “I never expected eyes to be so beautiful.”

“You’re very honest, aren’t you?” he asked, looking in the direction of the sunset.  “Do my eyes really look like that?”

“They do,” you nodded, scanning the rest of his features.

While he was observing the sunset, you had a chance to soak in every detail of him.  His skin was not like your brother’s.  It was more tan than Lucifer’s light pigmentation, and it was perfect in your eyes.  His ears were similar to yours, but they were more extended and angular than your own.  When he turned back to face you, you did not cease your actions.

“You are fascinating,” you stated truthfully.  “Do you consider yourself an average demon?”

“I am far from average, (Y/N).”


If your tag is crossed out, it means Tumblr won’t let me tag you.

Fallen Taglist: @miraisnotavailable @dc-nerd @ana-paula-180  @movokepwc @apulseinthepages @marlenej1 @world-in-green-and-blue @annoyed-kitten11 @dc-hoe @pittbull-enthusiast @virtualenemygalaxy @ordinary-happens @one-in-neverland @demonicfairy1996

Everything Taglist: @batty4dc @lastbeliever @badasssweetsrebel @phvckingphandoms @stevette60 @katykyll @panda-duuu @thatoneshortgayemo @carryonmy-assbutt @hyp-oh-critical

Jason Todd Taglist: @memento-scribet@thisismedamit @valeria-winchester @drharleyfquinn @sarcasmismyfirstlove @blue-streak-dolan

DC Taglist: @naicors13

There’s a valid reason that Dane Rudhyar refers to the Piscean temperament as a battlefield. But the angel also rides the energetic light of Pisces, and she frequently whispers cosmic messages in some form, tapping into her psychic functions and protecting her from a distance. She wrote a severe contract for earth before incarnating as Pisces. And God knows this, so her support system is rich and active.
—  Pisces
Day One: Couple ---Admiration

Angela Ziegler.

A guardian angel to the soldiers she will always watch over for on the battlefield. A symbol of compassion to those who need it most. A woman born amidst into a dangerous war that took away her beloved parents, would soon find the healing process of herself in helping others.

A simple, kind-hearted field medic that fell in love with her patient.

How could she describe him when she first laid her eyes on his injured body? When he looked at her with those pleading eyes of his to help him? He looked at her with those brown, pleading eyes like he had seen an angel to escort him to the Heavens above, to end his suffering.

She remembered herself narrowing her eyes at him as she kneeled beside his body. She looked at him and he understood the meaning behind her gaze.

He would not die today.

And throughout that night, she and the other doctors worked quickly to save the Shimada’s life in Overwatch HQ’s Surgery Room . As she placed the breathing mask over his mouth, she could feel his eyes on her as she went on and only did she meet his gaze briefly when the mask was secured properly.

She would not be a part of the main surgery, so she had no reason to be there. As she had turned away from him to let the doctors proceed with the surgery, she felt a strong grip cover her gloved hand. She turned around on instinct to look down at the freshly scarred hand of his. She met his face and it was her turn to interpret the meaning behind his gaze.

Why?

Confused and not wanting to take up such precious time, she slipped her hand away from his as she left quickly, still feeling his gaze on her retreating form until the surgery doors closed behind her. She had other patients that needed her, but he would be in good hands with the other doctors.

It was a successful surgery, of course, but it came with complications that even shocked Angela. To save him, it was decided that his entire body would have to undergo cyberization, if he agreed to offer his assistance in taking down the clan that demanded his death. If not, the task of the mercy killing would fall on Angela.

An offer he had accepted quickly without thinking.

She had remembered the months that passed by with Genji; the name that he had told her when she introduced herself as his doctor. The first few weeks of observing him in the training yard was interesting, to say the least. The enhancements in his agility and speed were progressing very quickly with his movements. The training bots that were in the yard were scraps of metal on the floor; the poor things had no chance against his surprising brutality. And as the days of observing and taking notes on her tablet grew, it all changed when Winston came to her with a bit of an observation of his own.

“I could not help it, Angela, forgive me for not telling you sooner. I mean, I thought it was something else here that was grabbing his attention, unless he finds the images of himself fighting on the screens intriguing-”, Winston rambled on before Angela coaxed him softly to stop.

“What are saying, Winston?”, she asked him as she placed her tablet down.

“Genji seems to be looking at you, Angela. He’s been at it since we’ve begun his training.”

It caught her by surprise as she looked pointedly down at the tablet on her lap. She began to delete most of the notes that she had.

No wonder he wasn’t aiming with his shurikens at long range at a moving or still bot. It had not been a problem with his cybernetic arms after all. After deleting her notes, she looked out to the training yard, only to catch his gaze on her even when he dashed towards a bot to finish it with a devastating blow.

The constant staring had gone on far enough as she confronted him when he was turning in for the night. He was surprised to see her, despite the hour. Even she knew it was not professional to him other than the training yard, but this was a problem that needed to be dealt with. She would not be looked at by the likes of him, considering his past reputation of being a playboy.

“May I ask why you’re missing the targets at long range, Mr. Shimada?” She did not bother with a greeting as she narrowed her eyes up at him from her height.

He answered without ever missing a beat as he looked down at her with a calm expression. “I have told you before, Dr. Ziegler. I am still getting used to this body.” He let his tongue roll over the word in disgust.

“Dr. Winston thinks otherwise,” She looked at his body, wondering why on Earth he was acting like that, knowing it was the main reason it had saved his life. “And so have I.”

He rolled his shoulders casually (with a bit more effort than a normal human body) as a chuckle left him. “Oh little dove, what do you think?”

Her eyes widened slightly before narrowing. He was using his playboy attitude–on his own doctor–on the woman who should’ve been receiving a bit of respect from as she was the one who found him first. He even came up with a ridiculous nickname for her during this.

Her toned treaded dangerously as her eyes never left his. “I think you’ve been too busy staring at me.”

“You seem to be doing the same.”, He replied as he leaned his back against his door, finishing the casual pose with his arms crossed. Angela was furious; never had any of her patients have been so disrespectful. Nevertheless, she did not show it as she straightened her stand, tilting her head at him.

“It is my job to observe your progress before you can be cleared for any Overwatch mission. You confuse it for admiration.”

He arched an eyebrow at her. “I only said staring, Dr. Ziegler. Admiration is a bit too much, especially with this.” He finished the statement before uncrossing his arms to gesture at his body.

“You do not seem to be grateful about any of it.” It was a clear observation on her part, but he misinterpreted it as a question.

“I’m grateful for you leaving me.”

“When did I ever leave you, Mr. Shimada?” She was confused as she tried to recall any moment of her ever leaving him.

“Those months ago in the surgery room.” He replied quietly, looking at her confusion. “When I grabbed your hand.” She wasn’t getting it, so he replied softly and slowly for her to get it.

“I wanted you stay.”

She was caught off guard as he grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her gently to his door. Her face felt warm as she looked up at him, only to see the pain in his eyes.

“I was afraid, Angela. I was afraid of dying there alone in my homeland, but when I saw you for the first time, when you kneeled down beside me, I wasn’t afraid anymore. It sounds humorous now, but I mistook you for an angel from Heaven, ready to escort my spirit to my father.” He added it with a forced chuckle, but she did not find it anywhere near funny. He sensed it as he cleared his throat before continuing.

“Even after the surgery and this body now, I still thought at any moment, it would all be just an illusion and I would be back at my home, taking my final breath. This illusion would disappear and you would, as well.” He looked at her before reaching a cybernetic hand against her cheek, cupping it. It was not warm by any means, but she could tell that if she shivered at the metal, he would withdraw and she did not have it in her heart to disappoint him. She was too caught up by his words to listen to her logical side, to remember his flirty personality, or even remember where they were, herself pinned against his bedroom door. She simply suppressed the shudder that tried to leave her as she reached a hand to cover over his hand as she stared up at him, listening to him continue on.

“I think that is why I cannot focus when I should be training. I cannot help but stare at you, drinking in your form as if you might disappear. As if I made you up to help me cope with my untimely demise.” She was too quiet and she could see the hurt in his eyes as he let her shoulder go and let the hand that was cupping her cheek fall to his side. She was left to lean on his door, thankful for the support.

“Say something, Dr. Ziegler.” She was caught off guard, once again, when he added silently the last part. “I beg of you.”

He’s begging for a response. From her knowledge of men like him, there used to having women comply to their commands with little to no effort. But he’s begging; a typical playboy shouldn’t even comprehend the meaning of begging. As she looks in his eyes, she sees the same gaze that he had months ago in the surgery room. She misinterpreted the meaning in it. He wasn’t questioning her, he was begging her to stay with him.

“…little dove…”

“I’m grateful for you leaving me.”

“I wanted you to stay.”

“I was afraid.”

“…when I saw you for the first time, when you kneeled down beside me, I wasn’t afraid anymore.”

Dear god, he was thankful.

Her voice was small, nearly a whisper. “I appreciate your gratefulness, Mr.Shimada.”

“I did not mean just gratefulness.” He looked at her, with a bit of a twinkle in his dark eyes. “More of admiration.”

She was falling apart, mentally speaking. He just used her own word to describe it all; all the staring that he had done.

Admiration.

He described his constant staring as admiration. Now, it was her turn for she knew well in her heart, the meaning of her staring besides observational.

Her smiles were warm, kind, and brought any sad spirit to smile, but she could not pull one off now. Instead, her smile was small, sad, carefully calculated as she pushed herself off his door before she placed a hand over his chest plate. She focused her gaze on her hand as she found her voice. “Do you feel my hand?”

“Not entirely, but it’s there.”, He replied as he stepped a bit closer. She took a deep breath and wrapped her other hand with his right hand, guiding it to her own, hesitantly. She had actually doubted his words as she placed his hand on her chest and to be sure, she looked at him. A part of her thought he was imagining himself taking off her blouse to feel her naked breasts, but as she looked at him, it was nowhere near fantasying. Not at all.

“Can you feel my heartbeat?”, She asked. He sighed as he shook his head silently. Her smile dared to slip away from her face, but she forced herself to keep it still.

“Look at me closely.”

He did as he was told, watching her intently. “You’re looking at me with those lovely eyes of yours. The ones that are not studying me like the other gazes, yet I do not know the meaning. They evade me, Angela.”

“Would you like a better meaning?” As if the question was missing something, she added the last part. “Would you like a better meaning, Genji.”

“Yes.” He said readily.

She remembered back then when she pushed herself to her toes to capture his lips in a soft, gentle kiss. And he had kissed her back with such a passion that surprised her. A kiss that was begging to be sweet and meaningful like the looks they gave each other, and it did. A kiss that represented their admiration for each other, just like their gazes. And it was the beginning of an admirable bond that completed their silent request for each other.

finnlavich  asked:

What's a tribe you think 1.) Needed more tribal support 2.) Would have benefitted well and fairly from having a commander with an eminence ability and 3.) What would that eminence ability be?

Great question! I think there are a couple tribes that could benefit from more tribal support. Specifically, I’m interested in creature types that:

  • Have enough Commander-playable cards that a deck could be viable if a supportive commander was printed,
  • Have at least a few mechanical similarities among those Commander-playable cards so that the supportive commander can synergize with the tribe’s mechanics (instead of a generically powerful effect)
  • Have a mechanic that is not inherently weak in Commander, and
  • Are strongly concentrated in a few colors so that the deck doesn’t have to be 4- or 5-color to be viable.

Potential Options for New Tribal Commanders

  • Spirits: Basically every color but Red has some interesting Spirits, so there are lots of options for potential color identities. I think a BG graveyard-oriented Spirit commander (that’s better than the absurdly expensive Iname as One; I get that the mana cost is the sum of its two halves, but at some point, gameplay should trump Mel’s aesthetics) and a UW tempo/flash Spirit commander (to take advantage of White Spirit tokens and all the Innistrad Spirit tribal stuff) would make the most sense.
  • Angels: There are lots of powerful Angels, so it’s a shame that the only tribal commander they’ve received is Kaalia, who lumps them in with Demons and Dragons. Monowhite captures the vast majority of playable Angels, leaving out only a handful of decent Angels in Black and Red.
  • Demons: Rakdos 1.0 is arguably Demon tribal, but I think it’d be more interesting to see a deck that rewards you for playing Demons instead of one that merely punishes you less (or one that makes Demons share the spotlight with other tribes).
  • Hydras: Starting to notice a theme? The iconic creature types tend towards impactful creatures at higher rarities, which increase their odds of being Commander-playable relative to limited fodder creature types like Bear or Spider or whatever. Seems like easy pickings for a tribal designs.
  • Zombies: I know they’ve tried a million times, but they still haven’t printed one that takes advantage of both Zombie cards and Zombie tokens without also having something better to do than mess around with tribal stuff.
  • Rogues: I think there are enough viable Rogues and strong Rogue tribal effects to make a deck built around them worthwhile, provided they get a commander that supports their mechanics (evasion and saboteur effects, typically).

Tribes that Could Use Eminence

As I’ve said before, I think Eminence is inherently broken because you can’t interact with it. However, there are things you can do to keep it from getting out of hand, such as choosing very restrictive tribes (i.e., few cards) and choosing effects that are worth one mana or less. Of the above creature types, I think the best candidates for Eminence are Angels, Demons, and Hydras because they all have few members and their average CMCs are pretty high, which will limit the brokenness of the Eminence abilities of their commanders.

As for actual abilities, here’s what I’m thinking:

  • Hydras: This one’s easy. Most Hydras do something with +1/+1 counters, so I think a Hardened Scales effect or something along those lines would be appropriate. Ideas:
    • Eminence — If one or more +1/+1 counters would be put on a Hydra you control, if ~ is in the command zone or on the battlefield, that many plus one +1/+1 counters are put on it instead.
    • Eminence — At the beginning of combat on your turn, if ~ is in the command zone or on the battlefield, put a +1/+1 counter on each Hydra you control with a +1/+1 counter on it.
      • This one probably needs testing to make sure it’s not too good.
  • Angels: Angels are a little trickier, since there isn’t a consistent Angel mechanic (aside from flying and being expensive). One Vorthos-y option would be to tap into the flavor of praying to summon Angels:
    • Eminence — As long as ~ is in the command zone or on the battlefield, other Angel spells you cast have convoke. (Your creatures can help cast those spells. Each creature you tap while casting an Angel spell pays for {1} or one mana of that creature’s color.)
  • Demons: Demons are expensive and good at killing creatures, whether they’re your opponents’ or your own. The obvious path for an Eminence trigger would be ameliorate their weakness or play into their strength.
    • Eminence —  Sacrifice a creature: Add {B}{B}{B} to your mana pool. Spend this mana only to cast other Demon spells or activate abilities of Demons. Activate this ability only if ~ is in the command zone or on the battlefield.
      • Probably needs testing to determine whether BB or BBB is more appropriate.
    • Eminence — Whenever an ability of a Demon you control causes a creature to die, if ~ is in the command zone or on the battlefield, each opponent loses 2 life.
      • Text adapted from Sacred Ground, so hopefully its wording won’t cause any rules headaches.
      • Maybe it should be only trigger when your opponents’ creatures die. Like many of these ideas, this requires testing.
    • Eminence — Whenever you cast a Demon spell, if ~ is in the command zone or on the battlefield, return all cards named Shadowborn Apostle from your graveyard your hand.
      • Prob needs testing, but I like idea of making Shadowborns a little stronger in the Demon deck, since trading 6 cards for 1 is normally too weak to see play unless you’ve got a Thrumming Stone or a Shirei or something.
I’m Home (Dad76)

Summary: An AU where Overwatch and the omnic crisis never happened, Jack suffers from PTSD after coming home from a different war. Only he is plagued by visions of a war that never happened, and of a different life than his own. Good thing he has a family to pull him back in. 

Rating: T

Pairing: Just a dad76 fic (if you squint there’s some mercy76)

Requests: Open


Jack awoke with a sudden start, a cold sweat covering his body. His heart hammered in his chest so loudly he could feel it in his head. While his senses were poised for action, the his brain was still trying to process what was around him. The first thing he realized was that he was in:

Bed

He was in bed. His head throbbed almost painfully. Dark blue eyes swiveled around the room in search of answers or a hidden foe. Though the room was clear of any apparent threats his heart still hammered in his chest, adrenaline coursing through his body. He was just in a losing battle, a losing war, and now he was in bed? A bed that seemed familiar, in a room that held nostalgia to it. Something was off, something was missing but his mind couldn’t quite place it-

With a creak the door opened startling the already startled soldier further. The once incessant beating of his heart seemed to come to a sudden halt in his chest as that missing piece walked into the room.

“Mercy, no, Angela-” He stammered holding the limp body closer. A shaking hand came up to brush away the bangs from her face, “I told you to get out of here. That it was dangerous.” His voice was cracking, his whole body shaking, his heart feeling as though it had been torn in half because it’s other half lay limp in his arms. There wasn’t a light quite as bright as her, no smile could hope to compare to her smile, there was no one more generous, nor as beautiful. She was an angel who willingly flew into a hell like battlefield. All she wanted was to save lives, to live in peace yet she still fought this war alongside him. Despite being able to resurrect the dead, there was no one to resurrect her-

Yet there she stood before him, looming in the doorway almost as startled as he was. “Jack. Dear, are you okay?” Her voice was so sweet he was certain he was dreaming, “I was just coming to wake you. You slept in awfully late. Breakfast is waiting in the kitchen.” All he could do was swallow thickly and try to decipher what had happened. He was so certain she had been dead, yet she stood before him alive and beautiful. “Jack.” The bed dipped as she sat next to him, eyes narrowing into the cool concerned stare of any practicing doctor. “Did you have another one of those nightmares?” One of her hands came up to touch his cheek before slipping down to rest on top of one of his hands, a glittering gold ring on her delicate finger caught his eye, “You didn’t take your medicine last night did you?” There was more than doctorly concern in her eyes, she gave him a small sigh deciding to drop the subject, “We can talk about this later, breakfast is getting cold-” She stood up and moved towards the doorway, his hand missing the feeling of hers but the matching gold ring adorning his finger somehow made him feel better.

“We’re married.” His mind was in disbelief but his heart didn’t care, he was married to the woman of his dreams. She was alive and well. All she cared about was his well-being yet he was still brooding on what had to have been an awful nightmare. Still, the old soldier within him didn’t want to accept this dream as reality just yet…

“Oh!” Angela turned on her heel, struck by a sudden thought causing Jack to snap out of his own musings. Her lovely pink lips created a near perfect “O”, her countenance painted with such excitement that it had his utmost attention. “Gabriel called. He wanted to know if him and the kids can still come over?”

“Gabriel Reyes? The kids?”

Gabriel Reyes

His once most trusted friend, a man that Jack would have died for. Gabriel Reyes had tried to make Jack do just that: Die. All Gabe wanted was to be Commander of Overwatch and when that didn’t happen…. They damn near killed each other. As far as the world was concerned they did. From the ashes and rubble of Overwatch came two monsters that were once heroes together. Yet now they were at each other’s throats. Soldier 76 a lone super soldier, and a monstrosity simply known as Reaper. Neither could die, not without killing the other first-

“Yes. Do you know any other Gabriel’s? You think you would remember the man who saved your life in the war.” That comment alone was enough to have Jack’s jaw drop but the next nearly had him choking, “Gabe was going to come visit with Jesse and Sombra since we haven’t seen their family in a while.” Jesse? Sombra? Jack was trying to wrap his head around that when suddenly Mercy, no Angela, or rather his wife had switched right back into concerned doctor mode.

“Are you feeling okay Jack? You’re a little pale. They don’t have to come over today if you’re feeling unwell.”

“…No, no! It’s fine they can come over.”

“Hmmmm…. If you say so. Go splash some water on your face dear.”

That was a good idea. Maybe a bit of cold water would help him wake from this curiously pleasant dream, or at least help him understand just what reality he had stepped into. Getting out of bed Jack moved toward the bathroom, flipping the light on only to be taken aback a few moments later. Their bathroom was nice, nothing spectacular but like most there was a large mirror adorning the wall. The mirror itself was nothing to be concerned about but the man reflected was. Reflected in the mirror was Jack but also…. Not Jack….At least not the Jack he was used to seeing in the mirror.

He was an old worn down soldier. Most would describe him as grumpy and gruff. His hair had gone white, wrinkles forming on his forehead from years of scowling. Most prominent was the scars that littered his face. Remnants of his battle with Gabriel, the one that had almost killed him, not this strange Gabriel that had apparently saved his life. That was supposed to be what he looked like… But the man reflected in the mirror was not him… Yet it was him?

Reflected in the mirror was Jack Morrison, the golden boy. The strike-commander of Overwatch rather than the worn Soldier 76. His hair was still blonde and had not yet started receding though there were some gray hairs beginning to show. His face had no scars and only the faint beginning of wrinkles. Instinctively he knew he wasn’t quite as young as he was when he took over Overwatch but he wasn’t exactly old either… At least late thirties…? Maybe early forties but that was pushing it… Splashing the cool water on his face did little to help with his muddled head. “Damnit…” He couldn’t wrap his head around the situation at hand, everything was so perfect it had to have been a dream. Deciding that hiding in the bathroom and staring at his reflection wasn’t going to get him answers, nor would it help stop the growling of his stomach Jack had no choice but to leave.

With the scent of breakfast to guide him, Jack left his room and entered the hallway. Pictures adorned the wall. They immediately caught his attention. A wedding photo of him and Angela? A few photos over was them cradling a newborn. Memories captured by camera adorned the walls and they helped piece together a perfect life that he couldn’t quite remember. There were so many of them on the wall he wanted to look at each and every photo and cherish it but he couldn’t. Someone else was demanding his attention:

“Dad!” Came a chipper voice, that immediately had him turning his head. Before he could react arms were thrown about him and he was wrapped in a tight embrace. For a moment all he saw was a head of spiky brown hair but he didn’t have to see her face to know who she was. That still didn’t stop him from being in shock when he saw the face of Tracer… No, Lena staring up at him. “What’s that look for dad? Surprised I’m home so early? I wanted to surprise you and mum after my last track competition.” She laughed releasing him from her embrace, “It was a tough one but I’m sure I’ll qualify for the Olympics this time around.” His mind flickered back to the photos, to a young girl holding up gold medals for track and field competitions… Lena was going to the olympics?

“I’m back… I-I don’t know for how long.” Her voice was panicked, body faint and already slipping to another timeline. She was too young, they never should have sent her in that plane. She was the best pilot they had, she had a bright future ahead of her… Would she be cursed to always slip through time? “C-Commander please tell Emily that I love her… And I’m sorry if I can’t make it back home…” Lena Oxton their chipper pilot, was crying… It broke his heart to see her this way, and their best scientists were trying to fix her problem but what could their solution possibly be?

There was no chronal accelerator visible upon this Lena, she seemed to be healthy, more than just healthy. His mind tried to wrap around how and why but he supposed he didn’t need one. He almost wanted to warn her against being a pilot but at the moment she seemed to have her heart set on the olympics, which she told him chipperly as she lead him to the dining room. “I was thinking about what you were saying dad.” Solider 76 had once yelled at Tracer for jokingly calling him dad, but right now all Jack felt was warmth swell in his chest, “I think that the training with the weights might be to excessive, I don’t want to strain any muscles especially right now before the next big competition.” All Jack could do was nod unsure of what conversation she was referencing but her logic seemed fine, “Thanks Dad! Thanks for always pushing my so hard, I don’t think I would have made it here without you pushing me so much. Although cool it on coming to every meet. It’s embarrassing when you’re cheering the loudest at practice dad!” As they turned to enter the kitchen, the smell of breakfast making him salivate, another familiar voice chimed in.

“Aw C'mon Sonic! Dad just wants to be supportive!” Warm, happy, and charismatic he knew who’s voice that was as well. Sitting in their dining room, one arm curled over his chair and shooting his sister a smile was… Lucio? Headphones were looped around his neck, and he was dressed in soccer gear. He wasn’t wearing his roller blades or any of the stolen gear from Viskhar. Nor did he seem like he was international superstar but judging from the music that pumped through his headphones, Jack would’t doubt it if this Lucio was destined for fame as well.

“Listen! Aw c'mon Soldier!” He laughed holding up his headphones towards the gruff old man, “It is the sound of my country, of my people. Of the struggles and hardships we faced. I want you to hear it.” With a sigh Soldier 76 took the headphones. “You asked me why a popstar would fight?” Lucio began, eyes staring out in the distance, “I don’t want to be just a popstar. I want to make a change. I don’t want others to suffer anymore.” He was hopeful, more of a hero than Soldier 76 ever was. He knew hardships and pushed through them…

Jack watched as Lena and Lucio playfully bickered, taking his seat at the head of the table out of instinct. He heard Angela laugh, finally taking notice of her at the stove, but his attention was once more drawn to the two bickering siblings. Somehow he found himself smiling.

“Don’t be silly Dad comes to all your games and cheers just as loud. You totally get embarrassed.”

“Only when he’s hassling me to be better than Sombra.” Lucio laughed before playfully giving his father a kick under the table, “I mean c'mon dad we’re not even in the same division. She plays women’s soccer. Can’t she be the best at women’s soccer, and I’ll be the best at men’s?”

“Your father just gets to be a little competitive with Uncle Gabe.” Angela chimed in as she neared the table with a hefty plate of scrambled eggs, “But-” She gave him a teasing glare, “Last I checked someone promised me that he’d stop being so competitive with our children…” Jack scratched at the back of his head in response to her words. He didn’t need to have memories to know that he was probably being too competitive with Gabe… The two were always butting heads in Overwatch…"But I’m sure he’ll stop now right?“ Again she gave him a smile that hinted at the world of pain he’d be receiving if he didn't… Her features eventually softened as a sudden thought struck her, "Dear, could you go wake up Hana?”

“She was up late playing games again.” Lucio groaned, “I could hear her from my room.”

“Like you’re one to talk! I could hear your music in my sleep.”

“All I’m hearing is a bunch of children up way past their bedtimes.”

“Sooooorrrry Mum.” Both Lucio and Lena apologized together lest the incur the fabled wrath of their mother. Their dad could be scary when angry, but he was always a little scary anyways. Having their sweet, patient mother get angry? It was like watching an angel turn into a devil. Their mother gave them a smile, and turned that same smile to Jack as if telling him to get on with it.

Slowly he stood up, taking one last look at the trio before him. Half afraid that if he left this room his make-believe dream family would be torn away from him. That he’d be thrown back to the real world where he had lost so many, where they all had suffered more than they deserved. With his last look at them he turned and went back down the hallway. He didn’t truly know where he was going but his body lead him in the right direction. Now that Lena wasn’t there he took his time to look at every picture on the wall. Of the day Lena was born, of her first day of school, her first competition she won, her prom date with Emily, and of her graduation. He looked at the day they brought Lucio home, of his first time rollerblading, of his first goal in soccer, of his face on christmas when they bought him his first pair of headphones. Then there was the pictures of little Hana, of her as a baby, her chasing after young Lucio and Lena, her with her favorite stuffed animal, and of her getting her first video game system. The family pictures of all of them together brought a tear to his eye, even the ones with Gabe, Jesse and Sombra included in the pictures.

Eventually, pictures gave way to bedroom doors that told just as much of a story as the photographs had. The first door had Lena’s name on it and a variety of pictures, and of places she wanted to visit. The next was Lucio’s, band stickers plastered all over the door, cute stickers of frogs, and music could be faintly heard coming from within the room. The last door at the end was Hana’s decorated in pink and purple stickers, cute rabbits adorning the door. Carefully, he entered, the inside of the room dark compared to the rest of the house. Hana liked to keep her room dark because the sun bothered her eyes after a long night of gaming, the Hana in Overwatch was the same way. From his spot in the doorway he could barely make out her sleeping form. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness he could clearly see her features. Slowly so as not to disturb her sleep, he knelt next to the bed to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

“Are you sure life isn’t a game Soldier 76?” She infuriated him more than any other recruit ever had before. She was cocky and young, just like how he used to be. Barely eighteen she had no business fighting in a war. She should be going to school and making friends, not piloting a mech and getting shot at. It didn’t help that she was reckless… Just like him. Headstrong just like him. He tried to look out for her, to teach her so that she didn’t end up like him. He looked at all of the young heroes as children, wanting to guide them so they didn’t make the same mistakes as him but… Hana was… the daughter he never had or would have. She was like him and not like him. Which made it all the more heart-wrenching to see her get hurt. To hold her hand as she struggled not to cry. To lie to her and tell her that she’d be fine, that they’d get help. In that painful moment he watched his little hero turn back into a little girl that had no business fighting a war, his war, his fault-

“Dad what are you doing?” Her voice was groggy and sleep filled, dark eyes just barely starting to open, “Are you crying?” Sleep gave way to concern as she sat up. When the tears had started falling Jack couldn’t say for sure but it was embarrassing. Furiously he rubbed at his eyes to hide the evidence of his weakness. “Dad did you not take your pills?” Her voice was barely above a whisper, “Geez you should take better care of yourself. You always tell me to stop gaming so much and you can’t even remember to take your medicine!” Before he could stop her she pulled him into a hug, “Don’t worry Dad, the war’s over. You don’t have to fight anymore. No one else wants to say anything Mom, Lena, Luce but… You’re home now Dad. I don’t know what you saw in the war but you’re with us now, you’re home….” She repeated again, and suddenly she was rubbing at her eyes too. Like Father like daughter.

She released him from her embrace rather quickly, before slipping out of bed. “Don’t even dream about telling mom or the others about that. I’ll never hear the end of it.” She huffed, pushing him out of her room, “I’ll come to breakfast in a minute.” She was embarrassed, not usually one to express such emotions. She preferred to tease and joke, and to infuriate others. Consoling, comforting, and crying wasn’t exactly a Hana thing. In that aspect Jack was the same, he wasn’t one for sensitive emotions. Sparing him one last glance, Hana rushed off already yelling at the others to save her some food.

Jack stayed still for a moment contemplating her words. Memories of a war and memories of this perfect life crashed in his head. Which was real? No it wasn’t a matter of which was real. He knew which one to be true. Those other memories, they were stressed induced hallucinations of a war that never happened, his worst fears come to life because he couldn’t handle the actual war he fought in. It was time he come to face reality:

“I’m home.”

5

The grave/memorial of Clara Barton. She was an incredible figure in history, a woman very far ahead of her times. Originally a teacher, it was in 1861 that victims of the “Baltimore Riot” were transported to Washington DC, her home at the time. She decided to go to the railway station to help the victims as they came in. It was then that she decided she would help take care of the wounded Union soldiers during the Civil War. She was soon on the front lines helping to take care of the wounded from such battles as Cold Harbor, Fredericksburg and Antietam among many,many others. She cleaned the field hospitals, dressed the wounds of the soldiers, organized and helped distribute the supplies needed by the wounded veterans. She gained the nicknames “American Nightingale” and “Angel of the Battlefield.” She would read to the soldiers and helped them write letters to their loved ones. In 1864 the Union General Butler appointed her “the lady in charge” of all field hospitals on the Union front. At the end of the Civil War there were thousands of unanswered letters addressed to soldiers who were missing or unaccounted for. Clara contacted President Lincoln who gave her permission to start the “The search for missing men.” She spent the summer of 1865 helping to identify and properly bury 13,000 bodies of Union soldiers who had died at the notorious Confederate prison camp Andersonville. She worked at this task for 4 more years, eventually identifying and burying 20,000 more Union soldiers. Clara Barton later went on to found the American Red Cross. Her last Red Cross operation was helping the victims of the Galveston Hurricane of 1900. This short sketch of her history is by no means complete. What a courageous and remarkable woman she was. Her house, now a museum, is also located in this town.

Oxford MA 5/24/17

Sword and Soul

For this one I’ve wanted to lean towards more in game mechanics and how the other one would react to the other’s ultimate.


 Gency Week 2.0: Day 5 — Ultimate. 


The first time she saw the spirit dragon, she was terrified. A slithering body encircling Genji, with it’s maul open wide as he dashed into the heat of battle. Spiritual, and dangerous, but a part of his blood. His sword struck down his opponents like a bolt of lightning touching a splitting tree. Controlled and untamed, powerful and surreal.

She asks about it now, watching his carefully held visor glow. Unsheathing his sword, he beckons her close. He explains that only a Shimada can control the dragons, but she is one with him now.

Keep reading

ANGEL OR GHOST He had seen her before–on the battlefield at Culloden and at Lallybroch, but she’d been his silent ghost of longing and despair. This time she’d spoken, “it’s me, Claire” and his heart was cleaved in two. Were his ears joining his eyes in betrayal, or had she come back from oblivion much like that first time when she’d healed his body and re-joined his soul? This angel peering at him from above had sunlight for curls. She seemed to come from Heaven, just as he had resolved to cope in Hell. She hadn’t aged one day while he felt a thousand years old. Quietly he prayed, “please let this angel of my youth be real or take what’s left of my sanity now.”

Written by Suzanne Gaadt for @outlandishgoodness. All rights reserved. 2017

anonymous asked:

tell us about more about the war in heaven, from Uriel's perspective?

What Uriel Remembers of the War, a List

I. How quiet everything was, after Lucifer fell.

II. The older angels had stood around in small groups, their heads bent together, whispering. All of them looked tired, and worried—though Uriel hadn’t known what to call that grey and pinched expression. Grief and fear hadn’t been invented, before.

III. Gabriel putting a sword in her hand, explaining what it was for.

IV. The first angel dead on the battlefield had winked at her once, during lauds.

V. Keeping her breathing even and deep as first Cambriel, then Sariel and Gader’el slipped from the barracks in the dead of night. She would learn of their falling the next morning, written in the exhausted lines of Gabriel’s face.

VI. (Why did you not stop them? Miriam, daughter of Jochebed, will ask when Uriel tells her this story. You might have persuaded them to stay.

No one who contemplated such betrayal would be worth stopping, Uriel answers with a shrug of her wings. Miriam calls her unfeeling, but then, Miriam has never known war. Uriel has known nothing but.)

VII. Gabriel stopped smiling at some point after the onslaught on the third sphere.

VIII. Her first impression of Earth was of a strange, small, and intricate machine wrought in carbon molecules and so many moving parts that watching them for too long made Uriel dizzy.

It wasn’t the place of a soldier to question why so many of her brothers and sisters had died for a race of creatures made up mostly of fluids and willful defiance. So Uriel doesn’t.

IX. The Garden was empty by the time Uriel was stationed at its gates. For centuries, her only contact with the wider world was the dispatches she received—brief, formal, occasionally with Gabriel’s scrawled commentary in the margins.

The flaming sword rested heavy in her hand, and at night she squinted up at the miniscule sky (like looking at eternity through a dewdrop), trying to find stars no longer there.

X. She was forgetting the old songs—what did gloria in excelsis deo even sound like, without the fife and drums?

XI. Which war? the humans ask, after they have gotten in the habit of naming theirs to keep them straight. Which war? they ask, and she replies, again and again—The only one my family means, when we say ‘the war.’

Commander of the Week

Triad of Fates/Oloro Ageless Ascetic 

I really like the flicker/blink effect. Although there are commanders specifically built for this purpose such as Brago, King Eternal and Roon of the Hidden Realm, I thought i’d build one with black in it instead of green to gain access to certain unpleasant abilities. I’ve built several decks around Oloro, who I chose because you have access to blue and more blink abilities. But I’ve never built one around the other one. So Triad of Fates is a black and white legendary 3/3 for 4 mana with a rather slow but interesting fate counter mechanic allowing you flicker your own creatures and exile your opponent’s creatures if they have a fate counter on them. 

Blinking with and without Blue 

This deck was supposed to originally be just black and white and built around the Triad of Fates, which means we don’t have access to blue and the main flickering abilities. White has a few however, such as Cloudshift, Eerie Interlude, Ghostway, Long Road Home and Kaya, Ghost Assassin. But if we use Oloro as the commander instead, we then get Ghostly Flicker, Venser, the Sojourner, Brago, King Eternal, Essence Flux and Deadeye Navigator in addition to the ones in white. We also get bounce abilities such as Sunken Hope, Cache Raiders and Familiar’s Ruse, which allow us to recur unpleasant effects. 

Exiling Things is Exhausting

The only problem with Triad of Fates is you have to tap them to do each of their three abilities. this means we’re going to need something else so that we can do multiple things each turn. Thousand-Year Elixir allows us to untap a creature and gives creatures the ability to tap as though it had haste. Magewright’s Stone allows us to untap a creature than has a tap to activate ability. Rings of Brighthearth and Illusionist’s Bracers can both copy an activated ability. since we’re blinking or recasting things Panharmonicon will also be really good so that we can get the ETB effect essentially twice. Angel of Condemnation also benefits from these abilities as it has similar abilities to those of the Triad. 

Can’t Touch This. 

Flickering is quite useful, it can be used in response to a creature being targeted or it can be used to recur useful abilities such as that of Sun Titan, Reveillark or Gray Merchant of Asphodel. It also triggers effects like that of Extractor Demon or Hidden Stockpile that trigger when things leave the battlefield. Other useful flicker targets are Angel of Despair, Karmic Guide, Shriekmaw and Fleshbag Marauder

…Or Me 

Since we’re flickering a lot, the chances are we’re not going to have many creatures on the battlefield. We may need additional protection such as things that prevent combat or creatures from attacking you specifically or things that prevent you from being targeted. Aegis of the Gods is good example of the latter. Ghostly Prison, Windborn Muse and Sphere of Safety are all good examples of the former. Stonehorn Dignitary is a good way of preventing combat steps. If you take the Oloro route instead you also gain access to Propaganda, Illusionist’s Gambit, Reins of Power and Aetherize which are in all my blue decks to really screw with combat.

And Finally… 

Lands could include Glacial Chasm, Mystifying Maze and Spires of Orazca (Thaumatic Compass) to prevent any damage to you. Bojuka Bog, Halimar Depths and Reliquary Tower are always good too. I will hopefully have a list for this deck soon and I will post it shortly. I hope you find this both helpful and fun and until next time, Happy Deck Building.