#mystery booster

[mtg-cards-hourly]

Rune-Scarred Demon

The litany of the infernal on his flesh pulses to the beating of his dark heart.

Artist: Michael Komarck TCG Player Link Scryfall Link EDHREC Link

[heardchef]

nancy drew carmy + the secret of the tomato cans requested by @carmens-sou-tattoo

[fortune-maiden]

At this point I have given up on using Etie because I am just too attached to other units to use a deployment slot on her and don’t really feel the need for an archer.

Except now that the game has given me Alcryst, I am absolutely using the heck out of him!

[stingchronicity]

girlies (gender neutral) i went to the doctor today and received four (4) vaccines, got tested for every std ever (which included a blood draw), & made an appointment to get an iud placed yeehaw

[annabelle--cane]

I would like to go maybe three weeks without coming down with an ailment that ends up giving me fever chills as I'm trying to go to sleep on a friday night

[rose-tinting]

I just noticed something that made me reflect on my own blogging habits

I’m less likely to like and reblog the art of artists I actually follow

People are more likely to like and reblog art I reblogged from someone else and not my own original art I posted even though they follow me (This is not accusatory I am just noticing it because I do it too)

I’m not a clever man but I’m going to try to wrap my head around this

[orange-s-mario]

Future (DC) (21st-40th Century)

This list also includes some, but not all possible futures 21st Century

Rex Cosmos (2023)

Tommy Tommorow (2050)

Star Hawkins (retires 2092)

22nd Century

Space Ranger (????)

Gary Concord Sr (2174)

Space Cabbie (????)

23rd Century

Gary Concord Jr. (2239)

Unnamed Flash (????)

Sela Allen (????)

24th Century

Secretary Dubrow (2303)

Duncan (2303)

Ken Carver (????)

Eric Marr (????)

Wale Marner (2372)

25th Century

Booster Gold (born 2442)

Landor (2446)

Knodar “the last criminal” (2447)

Eobard Thawne (born 2451) becomes Professor Zoom (2463)

25th Century

Professor Hazard (2550)

27th Century

Captain Incredible (2637?)

John Fox (2645)

Speed Metal

Tomas Wayne and the Batmaniacs (543 after Destruct-Day)

Blaine Allen (-2754)

Jace Allen (2745)

29th Century

Kristin Wells (????)

30th Century

Knights of the Galaxy

Cary Wren

Klar Ken T5477 (2965)

Bron Wayn E7705 (2965)

Muto (2965)

Joker XX (2965)

31st Century

Brane & Ricky (3000)

Brane Taylor & Unnamed Robin (3050)

35th Century

Superman the 30th aka Superman XXX (3446)

Jirl Xanthro (3446)

Lex Luthor XXX (3446)

Dalmar (3450)

Ingrid (3450)

Jorj & Conspirators (3450)

Joan Jaime (3475)

Frand Mattar (3780)

40th Century

Mxyptlk’s 60th descendant (4000)

Maza (4000)

[tj-crochets]

Crafting and booster shot updates! - little crochet airplane is finished, baby blanket is washed, checked for loose threads, and ready to go!  - my dad and I got the booster shot on Friday, and my brother held off so that there’d be at least one functional person in the house this weekend. He’s going to get his booster shot sometime this week, and will take the blanket and airplane to the lady at the pharmacy for me when he does - I ironed the fabric for my next quilt, which will be a quilt to donate - I did not expect to get much crafting done this weekend, and I didn’t, but taking extra meds (mostly benadryl) helped me SO MUCH with the booster side effects. Turns out like 95% of the side effects I had after previous vaccines were not vaccine side effects, they were side effects from being injected with something I am allergic to*. I didn’t have low blood pressure problems! I didn’t almost pass out!! I did spend most of the weekend resting but oh my gosh the improvement is almost unbelievable. My blood pressure was so low for so long last time, even after a *triple dose* of my usual meds that raise my blood pressure, that if it weren’t for covid I probably would have been at an urgent care to get an IV of fluids. *I’m allergic to vinegar, and there’s acetic acid in the vaccine**. Vinegar is basically acetic acid plus water **please do not take this as medical advice of any kind, or as an example of getting medication you know you’re allergic to working out well. When the ads about medications say “do not take if you are allergic to any part of this medication”, they mean it. Talk to your doctor first. It is very, very important. 

[allbeendonebefore]

[wakes up after a weekend of partying] wow its august and i dont ever have to paint again

[mtg-cards-hourly]

Warden of the Eye

The wardens guard the sacred documents of Tarkir's history, though they are forbidden to read the words.

Artist: Howard Lyon TCG Player Link Scryfall Link EDHREC Link

[ping1n]

hey. i need that.

[talietikasero]

Fred: There's a horrible, ugly monster driving that truck!

Muriel: Call him Eustace, dear.

[ghostrockband]

Cki engineers are like: we've created a software that reads cards worse than ever before

[cricketmuse]

Reader Roundup: May

May is wonderful for reading outside. The weather has become blue sky with middling temps that only occasionally spike into retreat back inside for air conditioning. The flowers are blooming, the birds are twittering, and being retired now I can lounge in the hammock at 8:15 am anytime during the week without having to claim a sick day (not that I ever did). Photo by Polina Kovaleva on…

[the-frizzle-fry]

I swear to fuck if I don’t get a Mystery Booster Convention Edition Booster Box and I get 1 singular pack I’m gonna rage planet piss all over wotc n hasbro. I wouldn’t have bought it had I known there was 1 fucking pack.

[oldmannapping]

Mama - a Red Hood fanfic

Directly inspired by this post by @webshood

Excerpt:

You don’t jack a car in Crime Alley. And you definitely don’t jack a car in Crime Alley that almost certainly has a child in it.

The “Welcome To Gotham: 10 Things You Need To Know” pamphlets that Harley Quinn earnestly distributed to newcomers to the Gotham underworld were very clear about Red Hood’s list of Dos and Don’t.

Among the top Don’ts were:

Crime in Crime Alley

Crimes against women in Crime Alley

Crimes against children in Crime Alley

Mama

It wouldn’t have happened if she hadn’t been so goddam cute.

Felicia Aidia, barely a year old. Couldn’t quite walk yet, but she could stand unassisted for five seconds of startled jubilance before her own shock at the situation would send her flopping back on her adorable diapered butt. Huge almond eyes that were nearly black, wispy black hair and full pink cheeks, she looked altogether too cherubic to be real.

Felicia had been strapped safely in a booster seat, poking at the condensation on the window of the rideshare car she was in with her babysitter, when they were carjacked by an idiot with either a death wish or less situational awareness than a stoned beetle.

There was no other excuse for why this man jacked a She-Share, one of the brightly-marked cars in a fleet that was famous for being Gotham’s first rideshare company to boast child seats in every one of their vehicles at no extra cost.

They were famously affordable and primarily utilised by single parents in low-income areas such as Crime Alley.

You don’t jack a car in Crime Alley. And you definitely don’t jack a car in Crime Alley that almost certainly has a child in it.

The “Welcome To Gotham: 10 Things You Need To Know” pamphlets that Harley Quinn earnestly distributed to newcomers to the Gotham underworld were very clear about Red Hood’s list of Dos and Don’t.

Among the top Don’ts were:

Crime in Crime Alley

Crimes against women in Crime Alley

Crimes against children in Crime Alley

The car thief had shoved the driver and Felicia’s babysitter out of the vehicle but utterly failed to notice the giant car seat and the appropriately-sized child occupying it.

A city-wide Amber Alert was out within minutes, which honestly was pretty good considering it happened in Crime Alley and Gotham police liked to pretend that area was just a mysterious Bermuda Triangle kinda place where people just mysteriously went missing, who can say why, oh well, what can you do.

The police were fast but Red Hood was faster.

The vigilante was leaping across rooftops with the speed of a panther. One police helicopter pilot completely forgot their assignment and started following him instead of the stolen car. People livestreamed blurry videos of the car careening around corners that hadn’t yet been blocked off, panning up to catch a glimpse of red metal and brown leather streaking across the sky in pursuit.

The end was anticlimactic. Hood crashed onto the roof of the car from the awning of a deli like a feral beast and punched straight through the driver’s side window. He knocked the driver out and wrested control of the vehicle until it skidded to a stop a few blocks away from the official police cordon.

Before any officers got there, Hood had hogtied the unconscious car thief and carefully extracted Felicia from her carseat.

She let out a small, uncertain wail at the sight and sound of cheering locals, crowding close to film and too boisterous with relief to realise they were scaring a baby.

Felicia pouted. It had been loud, and then fast, and then unfamiliar, and then loud again, and suddenly she was outside, and she was supposed to be napping, and she didn’t know any of these people.

Wait, yes she did. The man cradling her protectively with one arm and holding the other out to the crowd, telling them to, “Back off, back off, give her some space,”, she’d seen him before. She didn’t know how but he was familiar. His big red face (no eyes, very strange, no mouth too! How did he suck his thumb?) wasn’t scary. He was the man on the wall painting! The big wall near the playground had a picture of him painted on it. The playground was safe, and he reminded her of the playground. He was holding her protectively and he was all nice and warm.

Felicia didn’t know many words. But she did know the word she used for the person who felt safest.

“Mama!” she said loudly, clinging to the red man’s arm. “Mama!”

“It’s okay, kiddo,” he said in a very soothing voice for someone without a mouth, “We’ll get your mom.”

A police officer arrived and tried to take Felicia away. She did not appreciate it.

“Mama!” she cried louder, torn between frustration and fear. No one ever listened to her! She reached for the red man. “MAMA!”

Well. Like we said. She was so goddam cute. All eyes were on her fat little face, her adorable, freshly-rescued, chubby little hands reaching out to Red Hood. Everyone was filming her on their phones.

And she called the Red Hood “Mama”, in a perfectly clear, tiny, adorable little baby voice.

Of course it went viral.

For a while, it was a fun in-joke between Gothamites. People playing vigilante bingo to see who they’d spot each night would jokingly ask each other if they’d seen “Mama” down by the docks. Goons blustered amongst themselves that “Mama” didn’t scare them, as they kept their heads down and prayed he didn’t notice them. One bold news website captioned a picture as “Red Hood/Mama” in a story about Felicia’s rescue, while the commenters lost their minds either rofl skull skull skull dying laughing or warning the editors that they should be careful in case the trigger-happy vigilante didn’t have a sense of humour.

Closer to Hood’s home though, the reception was different. And, to him, wholly unexpected.

It started with Felix, the 16-year-old who’d been a sex worker until Hood cleaned up the under-18 scene in the Alley, and who now helped shuttle street kids to the lowkey safehouses Hood and his team had set up. Felix was a good middleman the kids trusted to take them somewhere with food, water, electricity, and no one called CPS. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a good compromise until Hood could clean the stink out of the city’s social services.

Felix was smoking on a stack of crates one night, chatting to a couple of his friends, when Hood strolled over.

“Hola, Mama,” Felix greeted casually, taking a drag of his cigarette as his friends choked.

Hood just sighed. “Not you too.” With a weary exhale, he got to business. “I got those extra blankets you needed for the safehouse on Cedar. They’re at the Warehouse B if you want to run them over tonight. Sheila knows you’re coming, she’ll sort you out.”

And so, with Felix not dead and two witnesses with big mouths to tell the tale, word spread. It was open season on Red Hood’s new nickname.

“Hey, mama!” called the girls on the corner as Hood checked to make sure none of the johns had gotten too rough.

“Mama’s here!” crowed the gays and theys across the block as he dropped off condoms and hot soup.

“It’s mama!” announced the receptionist at the shelter when Red Hood stopped by to do an inventory check.

Everywhere he went.

Whatever. It would pass. People’s attention spans were shot to shit, and the loudest viral jokes always burnt out the fastest. At least, Hood was pretty sure. He wasn’t really online much but it was impossible to exist in the world without hearing a few meme references, and they always seemed to die out fast. When was the last time anyone talked about Baby Shark? Or that kid who said “corn” weird? This would blow over.

Granted, it was taking a bit longer than Hood initially expected.

When Dick gleefully changed his name in the Family Chat, Jason ignored it. He never replied to that thing anyway.

When Red Robin said, “Mama, you’re clear,” in perfectly neutral tones during an otherwise routine surveillance operation, and several comm lines immediately muted themselves, Jason ignored it.

When Damian’s new black kitten, with huge blue eyes and a white streak on the forehead, was named Mama, Jason started to get annoyed. Even DAMIAN?

When Roy answered his call with, “Mama, I missed you!” followed by thirty seconds of unhinged cackling, Jason hung up the phone and didn’t speak to Roy for three days.

When Cass used the ASL sign for Mom to relay information to him during a mission brief, his shoulders dropped.

When Alfred gave him an exquisite pink cupcake on the second Sunday of May, Jason thanked him, left the room, walked into the nearest bathroom, carefully put the cupcake on the bench, and screamed into a towel for six minutes.

When Duke finished a story about growing up in the Narrows with, “Mama knows what I’m talking about, right?”, Jason was defeated.

Fine. They win. Everyone wins.

He worked so hard on a legacy. He dug out of his own GRAVE. He clawed himself back from insanity and anger and reclaimed himself, reclaimed Red Hood, reclaimed his home. He carved a new space for himself, not quite a vigilante, not quite a villain. He made his own rules. He built an empire.

And now, he’s FUCKING Mama.

Life isn’t fair. Sometimes the Joker kills you and you sever heads and butcher bad guys and build up a reputation and then one goddam adorable child says two goddam syllables and you’re fucking MAMA for the rest of your goddam life.

Fuck it. He’s going home. He’s too tired for this shit.