#fanwalker talk

[bace-jeleren]

Fanwalker refresher: Kuro

Color identity: GWB

Race: Soratami

Homeplane: Kamigawa

Kuro was born to futurist parents who attributed her necromantic magic with being a kami curse. Fearing how society would react to their daughter's strange gift, that allowed her to raise any corpse with a simple touch, they kept her locked away within their Otowara estate since childhood. Kuro's every desire was almost always granted, but she never got to know the outside world, and saw more of the staff who worked within the estate than her own parents. Thus, Kuro grew up into her teens in a claustrophobic, lonely world where her own parents couldn't accept her.

Kuro's spark ignited after finally breaking out and escaping her family home, the rush of freedom being so euphoric that it sent her traveling through the multiverse. Finding herself of Zendikar, she fell into the care of a tribe of kor, specifically one of the members named Lara, who quickly became Kuro's mother-figure. Having no desire to return home, or to visit anywhere else in the known multiverse, she chose Zendikar as her new home. She also chose the name "Kuro" for herself during this time, casting aside the name her neglectful parents gave her and choosing the name of a legendary oni from her homeplane, feeling it suited her.

Kuro lived on Zendikar with her surrogate kor family for many years, living in fear that they would one day cast her aside because of her magic. She only, finally planeswalked again when the call to travel to Ravnica during the War of the Spark became too much to ignore. It's here she made lasting friendships, and bonds outside Zendikar.

Her adventures have led her to settling down on Kylem, where she lives with her beloved partner, a vampire from Innistrad named Wren, and their daughter Megumi. Kuro and Wren form a combatant duo and are regulars in Valor's Reach.

Abilities: Kuro is a necromancer, and can raise the dead by touching them. She can also take control of any other necromancer's undead using the same method, but this isn't permanent and lasts depending on the strength of the fellow necromancer. When she raises the dead, she sees their final moments before they perished. This makes her empathetic to those she raises, and she takes great care in maintaining the condition of their corpse.

Additional quirks: due to the trauma of her upbringing, Kuro refers to herself in the third person, hardly ever dropping out of speaking this way. Kuro also can eat virtually anything without getting sick, and is fond of trying bizarre and otherwise unappetizing foods.

[leafdrake-haven]

I know I'm a bit late but I was really enjoying Thunder Junction as a drafting experience, even if I found it a bit muddled from a lore perspective. But I wanted to ask the question if your oc had there own Mount what would it be?

Rhynn already has a mount! :D Her drake (mutant) that she biomanced to save as a broken egg. She has an empathic bond with him and if they’re on the same plane they can always at least sorta feel each other.

I do have an old card I made for him forever ago. I would probably change/update it or just make a new one. But I have played with the idea of making him an actual mount card too!

Thanks for the ask! ^_^

[little-red-rabbit]

What does Marcel think of autumn? If he likes it, does he like making any yummy fall foods? Or getting some at the Fat Pheasant? (I hope I remembered the tavern name right!)

While Marcel aesthetic and magic is very spring forward, it would be very hard for him to say that autumn is not his favorite season. Simply because it is harvest and hunting season.

While the variety of dishes celebrating the bounty of Floramore's harvest and delicacies of the hunt, Marcel favorite might just be one of the simplest.

It starts with the humble onion, enough to fill a height walled pot, cooked slowly over a gentle fame until the onions turn the same cameral brown as the leaves outside. Then fill the pot with a flavorful broth of beef. Marcel prefers to uses a broth made from veal bones and a nice heary glug of a fragrant red wine to make this humble peasant soup into something special. Bring to a boil then reduce to a gentle simper, stir in a roux of flour and butter to help thicken the soup.

After the soup has had time to thicken partition it out into induvial bowls. top the soup with nice thick slices of a dry toasted bread, any bread will do as along as it is toasted to help it from getting to soggy. Marcel is partial to a few slices of a Floramore baguette. Finally grated  a nice white melting cheese over the bread and soup, leaving it close to a flame until it turns a nice golden brown.

And there you have it the beautifully simple Floramore onion soup, a warming bowl of comfort on a crisp autumn day.

And you remembered right, it is called the Fat Pheasant Inn! It is the oldest eating establishment on Floramore. Having offered those that travel the lonely stretch of cobbled roads, between the capital and Solaris Dawn the palace of the Sun King, the comfort of a masterfully prepared meal, a cozy affordable bedding bed and the warmth of it's grand hearth for more then two hundred years.

And at this time of year Marcel is fantasizing about the pheasant coq au vin. Traditionally a hardy stew that uses a long braising process to help a tough old rooster into a tender delicacy. The inn replace the typical chicken for the succulent thighs of wild caught pheasants, that benefit from that low braising.

This dish actually helped give the Inn it's name as the dish was so popular with a nobleman who stopped often at the inn along his travels, that he ended up with quite the belly.

It is not hard to see why though as it is such a wonderfully hardy stew, of lardons beautifully crisped in a a high walled oven. Lightly dredge pheasant pieces browned in the fat of the lardons. Set aside safely to that a mix of onions and carrots can be browned in all those lovely juices. Placing back in the oven the lardons and pheasant covering with a nice seasonal red wine and a nice splash of brandy. Adding a nice mix of wild mushrooms and pearled onions, letting it all simmer of a long time.

The perfect meal to chase away the chill of a long autumn ride.

.

[joekabox]

seeing as it is the spooky season I thought I would ask about the time your OC was the most afraid.

Happy Halloween!

I think if we're talking about my fanwalker, Joseph, it would have to be the night his spark ignited.

He was a child, only eight years old, and it started when he was woken up by some sounds coming from behind his family's home. His father went out to investigate, and from the window, Joseph and his mother watched in horror as a vampire came from their chicken coop and attacked his father.

In a frenzy, his mother rushed him and his little brother to the cellar to hide, but the vampire knew better. Before long, it had broken into the cellar, and Joseph was made to watch as it attacked both his mother and his little brother.

When the vampire finally turned its attention to him, soaked in the blood of his family, Joseph's spark ignited, and he crashed head first into a rock on the shard of Bant on the plane of Alara.

Joseph has since seen many horrific things - from a mother gryff being mauled to death by werewolves to the way a group of zealous cathars slaughtered a coven of seemingly innocent witches. Joseph has even taken part in some horrific acts he, at the time, did not realize the depth of.

However, the night of his sparking made him realize the horrors of the multiverse, and ever since then, nothing has quite hit him as hard, no matter how horrific those events may be.

Here is a Sparker Planeswalker card I created for Joseph, which depicts the night of his sparking in question.

[interplanaranathema]

Is there something your ocs gets homesick for? A person, a place perhaps a particular food they cant get anywhere else or a festival they can't attend anymore?

OOOO!!!! While this is probably aimed to fanwalkers, I cannot help but to think of some of my Planebound ocs! So lets get it rolling! Cyrin came from a distant nearly peaceful district far from Ravnica's cental 10 districts in which he deeply misses. Personally, I hc to be placed in the midwest USA while the tenth/central is in around Prague is if we were to equate it to Earth's geography. Thus, it would take hours on a izzet airship to travel there, not just that as well as the planning he must do.

Nonetheless, Cyrin missed the gruul festivals him and his parents attended to when he was young. If there was photography on ravnica, there would definitely been pictures of him saddling on a Centaur, face covered in gruul war paint: both are smiling.

The food there compared to the tenth was not "more natural" per-se but more communal, if you'd ask him his favorite place to go, he would describe a small Rakdos pub he used to go as a kid. It's where he got to eat exotic (and totally ethically sourced) cuisines from time to time, finding a love for offals such as Liver and Gizzards. Although he loves the bread he gets from the 10th Selesnyans, he has a deep nostalgia for the sourdough dinner rolls he'd share with one of the Imp workers of the pub. Alternatively, he used to have a young golgari friend where they would go on adventures and share snacks with.

Even on the still celebrated Guildpact days, Cyrin would explain an event he watched where the guild representatives would do face offs. If one presses him on it, he would joyfully explain how he watched an Azorius representative was able to reverse and send a pie flying back to the Rakdos tiefling she was doing a competition with.

Lastly, Cyrin misses the rolling plains and distant spires of his home district. Due to how the district was far and mostly self governed, there wasn't much new urban construction built unlike. Thus as he lived on his family farm, he was able to observe the night sky above, pointing and looking at constellations. He misses wading through tall grass and getting chided by his mother for getting scratches and ticks. The smells of the burning rakdos furnaces as a powerful demon lord forged and smiled at his creation before giving it the Boros Angel, as a gift to her, sometimes wafts back into his mind on late nights. On the occasion, he remembers the chatter of the izzet engineers on the side of one of the district's main roads talking about how a mana power line went out.

Every night he wishes he can go back, to see his childhood friend, to that aging rakdos pub and to hear the idle friendly banter he would hear between a selesnyan dryad and a golgari lich. Cyrin can't go back, and it isn't because of money or time, although that is indeed a factor. He knows if he goes back, people will look at him with mournful looks and curious gleaming glances. What happened to his family was something so deeply entrenched in the local history there: The missing kid snatched up by whoever brutalized his parents and sent the house to asunder. That kid found in a dimir warehouse dazed and confused, soaked in blood, but too in shock to speak. Within the local museum, you can read articles of the "Great Zacek Household" tragedy, and he knows this.

[littlegoldenbirdie]

MTG WotS idea, with the power of ROCK!!!

I have a crazy little idea for a fanfic about War of the Spark. It involves my fanwalker Amelia, who has a touch of Emrakul's power and most of her sanity, going all Pied Piper to get the civilian masses of Ravnica, people and animals alike, to piranha-swarm Nicol Bolas atop his Citadel and wear him down, overwhelm him... just bury his scaly butt beneath a pile of bodies. I even know what songs she'd use, and some of the lyrics would be her talking to people. My main concern is whether I'd do it right.

Does anybody else hear Ronnie James Dio's 'Egypt (The Chains Were On)' and think "Hey, that fits Amonkhet pretty well"? The chains were on there too, after all... And no, I am not talking about JJBA!

[niuttuc]

So I tried to design a fanwalker: Affiliated with dragons, red aligned, probably from Tarkir, cool hair. Wait a minute this is just Sarkhan again

I don't know who you're talking about, this is legally-distinct dragon-appreciator Rakshan!

[pikachugirltits]

Was talking with the bestie the other day and we decided that when my fanwalker Zuzka travels to Bloomburrow she's a possum.

[teatime-with-owl]

Your angel fanwalker looks really cool! What’s her story?

Okay this is going to be a long post

Sophia Pendragon was born in Ravnica to two powerful mages, an Azourius Functionary(father) and an Orzhov Representative (mother). She herself could not use magic. After failing in her mothers guild for not agreeing with its practices causing a further rift in her relationship with them, she was moved into her father’s guild as an Azorious law enforcer. Still unhappy, but hoping that she can try and really help people like her idol Aureila of the Boros Legion, a guild she wanted to be a part of all her life. But on her first day on the job, she gets caught up in a explosion of a experimental portal, surviving, but she starts getting headaches and visions throughout the days following. As she goes on with her life, she makes friends in Azorius with others who would also be happier in other guilds, Travis who enjoys collecting secrets, Strava an inventor, and Sirri a woman with no recorded past. As they work together on different jobs, they start to notice something not right. They discover the possibility of a underground organization in Azorius that might even be spreading to the other guilds, all while Sophia slowly starts to realize she might be late blooming into her magic, as she is able to see into other peoples minds at times. Not trusting her parents to not use her with her new ability to gain power, she seeks out the help of Jace Beleren. He is reluctant at first to help her but after some convincing helps her learn more about her powers and how to control it. Sophia then starts to gain more clues on the secret organization and begins to suspect her own family being behind it. She then looks into her father’s mind looking for proof, finding nothing on the organization but everything about herself. Discovering that she could use magic since she was a child, but her powers where uncontrollable and dangerous.  Her father had used his own mind mage ability to erase the knowledge of having the ability to use magic anytime she would show signs of learning it again. Distraught and overwhelmed, she runs away and goes to Jace again, who helps her calm down and helps her not make the same mistake he did, and offers to help her get the rest of her lost memories back, and after some time and many magic lessons she becomes his apprentice. She continues to look for the organization, and gains the approval of her guild master Lavinia. She is made her champion so she can have better access to all the guilds for her investigation. More access helps her make even more friends, like a talented Simic Biomancer who helps her get the thing she has always wanted Angel wings. But as Sophia starts to reveal the identities of different members and the location of the organization things get more dangerous. Her friends get abducted, and she chooses to rush in to save them, falling right into a trap. She is the key to all of their plans, the energy source to a portal to other planes. But with her friends help she is able to destroy the portal and fight the members but as they try and get out of a collapsing building Sophia is last to leave and is tackled by the leader of the organization. She urges her friends to leave before it’s too late as the building collapses on both her and leader. As she opens her eyes she sees a place she has never seen before. Theros.

There is a whole story about her time in Theros and her trying to get back home to Ravnica but I think this pretty much sums up Sophia’s early story.

[littjara-mirrorlake]

this is Xena, my New Phyrexian fanwalker/D&D character

She’s Dimir and a partially compleated Neurok human. In-game she’s an alchemist artificer 5, rogue 1, and her alignment is true neutral.

Xena was among the Neurok who studied glistening oil after it started appearing in great quantities on Mirrodin’s surface. She had always been fascinated by transformation, transcendence, and perfection.

She defected to the Phyrexians in pursuit of greater knowledge, power, and eternal life in compleation. Multiple compleation attempts failed, her as-yet latent spark preventing full phyresis, and she railed against her imperfection. 

When she wasn’t being experimented on, Xena worked as a courier for the Gitaxians, allowing her to gather information while remaining unseen–the Phyrexians shunned the sight of her hideous flesh.

A side effect of Xena’s partial compleation is her caustic blood–potent glistening oil runs through her veins. Her first planeswalk was to an unnamed, distant place. Falling and cutting herself against a rock, her blood seeped into the plane’s great river, irrevocably tainting it with Phyrexian contagion. She escaped when the first horrors began emerging from the waters.

With each planeswalk, some phyresis leaves her, incinerating in the Blind Eternities. To maintain her Phyrexianized state, she needs to return to her home plane often to replenish the oil within her body, and she’s not above killing and draining other Phyrexians to do so. She’s liable to go into a vampire-like blood frenzy if her need is great enough.

Her most iconic weapon is a blowgun or crossbow with poison needles tipped in her own blood (though she has to be very careful in combat on other planes, as she’s essentially a biological weapon). She can also fight with magic, her eyes turning pitch black and ichor running down her cheeks when she exerts herself.

For now, she plays along with the Phyrexians because they give her the knowledge and power she desires, but she ultimately works independently of their ideals and their mission. 

[thetabbybadger]

I’m feeling in a very OC mood lately, I should really practice drawing more so I can draw them all T-T

[bace-jeleren]

Kuro accidentally performing necromancy on Wren's sperm and conceiving Megumi is, like, my own, personal "Kor mothers making cheese out of their breastmilk".

This isn't even a complaint, I'm glad people remember this one incredibly strange-ass fact about Kuro and Wren's otherwise incredibly wholesome romance. I hope whenever I draw Megumi being a cute little bean, you all remember she was conceived because Kuro accidentally necromancied Wren's sperm. I hope that never fucking dies.

[leafdrake-haven]

I’m missing good ol’ fan character Fridays so I’m queuing up a few old prompts AND a bunch of fanwalker posts of mine and from the search :3 (I hope people don’t mind some of them are older, but there’s a lot of cool concepts and characters out there I haven’t seen for a while!)

[little-red-rabbit]

I'm curious for more information on Marcel and his home plane. Could you give a quick summary of both?

Floramore is a young plane on the outskirts of the multiverse. It is said to have a soul like a carnivorous plant, beautifully alluring but always with this sense of danger. Like a predator stalking it's prey. A plane of unparalleled natural beauty, with great mountains topped with glistening glacier. Rolling fields of flowers dotted with quaint villages and sprawling vineyards. Looked over by the exquisite manors of the aristocracy. It is a place where the very essence of life is intertwined with ones emotions. Where a child's joy can turn a flower into a faery and a man's savagery can turn him into a beast. But something has been brought to Floramore, something that had previously never existed upon the plane. It has entwined itself among the powered faces and shady dealings of the nobility. Preying upon the common folk.

Name: Marcel Swan Age: 29 Hight: 6' Eye color: Dark green Hair color: Platinum Blond Color identity: White/Black Magic: Marcel main magic lets him manipulate the life force of living things. Draining or enhancing it for incredible restorative effects. He can also corrupt the life force, destroying the body from the inside out. Marcel served as the court physician to a high ranking noble named Marquess Lyle, the Emperor's personal huntsmen. Lyle was like a father to Marcel, who's own father was largely absent from his life. So when Lyle was attack by some strange beast while on a hunt and left undergoing a slow and horrifying transformation. Marcel sought help from a powerful witch to save his lord. The witch gave Marcel a ritual she said would prevent him from becoming a monster. What she did not say was that it did so by transferring his affliction through his bloodline to his only son. This left the Marquess as a dhampir and is young son a blood thirst monster. Marcel was forced to kill his lords heir, a child he had helped raise, in self defense. The horror of it all causing his spark to ignite. Out of grief and penitence for destroying the life of his liege, Marcel aids a cabal that is quietly rooting out the vampires slowly infesting his home-plane. He brings them information and magics that might help them in their struggles, as well as searching for a cure to vampirism.

[arvadthecursed]

Ichabod, gently tapping Cerise with his foot: Cerise, move out from in front of the stove so I can make you food.

Cerise, her eyes wide: you KICK Cerise? You kick her body like the foot ball? Oh!! Oh!! Jail for father!!!! Jail For Father For One Thousand Years!!!!!!!

[doctor-roman]

Finally figured out my Jund walker, lads

Name: Varthus

Race: Azra

Colors: Jund (B/R/G)

Home plane: Kylem

First planeswalk: Ikoria, probably

Magic: Magic Nullification

Varthus was once a young Azra on the plane of Kylem, trying to make his way through the arena of Valor’s Reach like so many before him.

But between the rules of the arena and the referees keeping track of what happened, he felt more and more like he would never know what he was truly capable of - that he would never really get to see how strong his abilities were.

Over time, Varthus came to be seen as a heel of sorts. He became known for his brutality and how efficient he was as a fighter. People never stayed partnered with him for long due to his...aggressive nature. But still, the rules and regulations of the arena kept him in check.

And he was tired. Tired of holding back. Tired of restraining himself. Tired of never knowing just how far he could really push himself as far as his physical abilities were concerned.

That is - as all stories of Planeswalkers start - until one fateful day.

Varthus was competing in the arena as normal. The crowd was jeering and booing him, as had also become normal. He was defeating his opponent’s handily, but. He wasn’t stopping. Something in his mind just turned off. He kept beating into his opponents, the cries of his partner to stop drowned out by the wails of the crowd as they watched the scene before them unfold, helpless to assist the poor souls who had just so happened to be paired against Varthus that day.

Varthus beat his opponents through the enchantments they wore to protect themselves, those same enchantments falling off of him. It was his fullest self versus their fullest self.

And he won.

Definitively.

And before Varthus could come to his senses, Valor’s Reach was gone. The cries of the crowd were now just an echo in his head. He was somewhere else. Somewhere new.

And he knew, with so many new monstrosities to test his mettle against, he was going to enjoy staying here for a while.

Varthus “magic” is more or less dispelling magic itself. Whether it be spells aimed at him or protective enchantments that others try to weave around themselves for protection, Varthus shatters through them all.

He will know your true strength, and you will quickly come to learn his.

But Varthus is not the type to pick on the weak. He does not concern himself with fighting those who will not, or can not, push him to his limits and beyond. He seeks advancement in his own strength and has no time for anyone or anything that won’t provide that challenge.

Varthus has only one life to live - he knows that. He just wants to know what he can withstand and what he can overcome.