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Count the number of people that go past!

Vro this hideout sucksss, there's nothing to do here and I finished all the finishable games and got bored of the roguelikes ughhh

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No—-day 5-9) Wat-r damage and Fami-ia-

Data-Scrambled————wat-r dam-ge, note- cle— aft- int-o

[The added introduction portion of her notes is pretty damaged, as well as day 9.]

Hi talkbox! Combining all my notes for a bit, staying on this plane called Theros for some wandering. I arrived at this party, and met some cool friends! Vasro and people, I’m getting some form of an idea who each person is! Which is exciting because, I don’t think I ever experienced friendship? Like not in a sad way, but more a ‘We’re all representing ideas and things we don’t bond so much as we synergise’ or, something. But, they’re DIFFERENT to me! Like- Raqsai are all a little similar, we all love music and performing and art right? They each have their own focuses and goals, and, it’s so cool!

The party got, a little intense. This is relevant because, I saw one of everybody’s common goals that day. There was this tall woman, looked like a new person I met but older. Apparently these guys all get born into the world by kind of old looking versions of themselves, rather than falling out of the great fractals’ open wounds, bubbling into life in the ruinous fluid. But everyone became, agitated. Defensive. They were kind of, I don’t know. Intimidating? Curse the low and high frequency words of my performance! But, the intimidating-ness. They got quite, loud. I left, pursued by one of the satyrs, I think. He’s currently extremely drunk, passed out over a branch behind me. I’m gonna wander this plane when he’s sobered up.

I heard theatre is powerful here. I want to become part of one of these systems, with money and that, and perform. Not be, imprisoned back home. Ordinances suck!

Hey all, still wandering. It’s day six now, I’ve so far seen a sign post and trees, big ones. They get thinner a long walk away, I’m gonna go there.

I also killed a beast! And ate it. Very crunchy, very feathery. I met it when it sang, I danced to it’s rhythm, and it got offended. Flew down, tried pecking at my face, in the little divets above the nose. I flung out this basic melody, it perished.

Day seven, ughhh HEAT! I said so much nothing yesterday, and none of it got caught. I’m in a city though, very coastal. Claims to be worshipping something. Thassa? Regardless, it’s so wonderfully stony. And sharp, the corners of the new buildings seem to be tipped a little in red, from people grazing them. They don’t much like music or dance here, claims it distracts from worship. They like hearing my travel stories though, and I got a couple coins! Not made of chocolate, but metal these are. Spent them on food, lovely stuff they catch here, and I wandered down to the beach. I’ve buried myself in this little hole in the rocky wall that holds the glowing tower. Cliff, under Thassa’s offering place. She won’t be too upset, I’m sure. The locals don’t claim to know her personally? Seems a little silly, not knowing who you’re handing food to, not seeing them ever. But they see what she’s done, and she does things like send fish for them. Suppose they’re smarter than me, it’s their plane afterall.

They look up at, these stars. It’s day eight now, I’m basically the same place I was before. Which is, unnatural for me. I feel like I’m being held here, some unknown force desires me to stay here. But it feels so unnatural, like- it’s supposed to be dry. Everywhere. But there’s a wet liquid here. Water, it’s common, we see it but- this prominently? I suppose the others saw it more. Raqsai zones weren’t allotted near what I guess is a sea. We’re always landlocked, we must never meet the tides! Or so the Shamashen would tell us. But, I love it here. There’s a man in the water, who watches my experience here.

I’m heading up to the cliff, to see the great view. I don’t know if I’ll say much tomorrow, I’m taking food from that offering place anyway. We all steal ideas, things cannot be too much different.

D-y 9, ———sea———vengef-bast—wave of wa-e————-f—-brok—-Vas-o,———h-s—-ome———-Capen-a,———-appoi——nee-ed?——Thassa——-stormy mood——apost——-

[The remainder of what was said is totally gone. Her entries before day 9 were perfectly intact.]

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I have known you for two minutes and I ADORE your face!!!!

"Bye Pudge! I'll see you later!"

The door closes, as he leaves without his communicator. But another is there to relieve the burden.

REGISTERING NEW USER. TRANSLATING. ACCLIMATING. HELLO PUDGE.

Henlo. Am Pudge. Happy to be here.

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Notes day four) The Raqsai Reunion

Hi, whoever’s out there. Been plane-hopping a bit, and recognised how difficult it is to navigate the cultures of others without clear, big guidances. Books that come through are… rudimentary at the best of times.

Outside of the far continent, there’s a couple factions of us fractals, who’ve been sent outwards from there. I’m one of the Raqsai, the performers. We have these… spiralling landscapes, we burrow into them and burst out with staircases, like the major cities with railings for stairs. Except extremely bendy. Straight lines are all these other homes use, we can’t stand anything that does not express one’s existence. If only there was a delete button, started talking like a Shamashen Officiator. Shamashen are, like lawyers. They’re the law itself, and impart it on everyone, to everyone else’s detriment. Like those Azure-Iouses I keep reading about. They can’t use any green mana, just like how I’ll never touch any blue mana. I don’t talk much with the other three, the guys without red understand all about machines and repeated processes, I’d love to dance with one when they’re off the assembly line (never know what’s being assembled though, last I spoke to one he was making little spinny doodads for more doodads to connect to). Lose black mana, you have these inventors. Creativity personified, like us, but they’re more quantum realignment of aether particles for… I think it was a flying machine? Called it an ‘Ornithopter’, wonder what that was about. Finally, drop the white and you have, devotion. I only saw one, called itself a Devout Throne, it would not stop singing. Praise, absolution.

Hopefully someone can do some anthropology here, quantify all my words into a real comprehensive. And tell me what that Devout thing was about. But I’m saying all of this because, I think I’m leaving Xerex.

The Shamashen have ordinances that keep us in our districts, they claim the radiance of angels miles away dismiss us from The Origin Point, and we must too be divided. We’re all reflections of something here, our societies mirror what’s out there in the multiverse, our behaviours that of people once seen, or to be seen. We must maintain balance by staying put, in these positions.

Then, I visited someone on Bloomburrow. Now, I’m sneaking to Ravnica. I hate being sedentary, there’s a million stages out there. I just, need to stand on them. Not be a backup dancer anymore, but a true centre stage star. This musical has a protagonist, it sure won’t be me, but I’ll put my name into the application box, and take a side character. Ensemble casting is simply not what I am meant to be.

So I’m off, coming back when I choose to. When I’ve been gone long enough for the ordinance to do something about me? Try catching me in the city plane, or wherever I end up. I’ve seen the stage, they just need to find their seats, up in the rafters, cheapest tickets you could conceptualise.

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Excited to (hopefully) see a proper city, anything a new face should know?

Hello everyone!

I’m here to announce that it is karaoke night at the Deerskull! We are open to all, and singing does get you a half-off drink ticket. If you’re unsure if we’ll have your song, just post it here and we’ll do our best to get it ready. Can’t wait to see you there!

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Notes Day Three) Homely messages

I have, somewhat unfortunate news note dodecahedron. Other than the constant shifting of this things shape every time I move between planes.

Many years ago, the multiverse opened itself with a single tree. This vile mass broke down the barricades of planes, and that day, we were made to witness the entire multiverse. Society, infrastructure, species, ranks, categories, every aspect of what life was like suddenly imprinted into us like a pebble, hurtling down to its origin point and branding in hot lead it’s ideologies.

Phyrexia’s breach lead to our birth, a cascade of what was many distinct fractals becoming an emulation of societies far across the multiverse, our divisions and traditions forming for the sake of their universality. From this great surge, we awoke. A world, buildings, shapes, all ready to be made perfect. And yet, something barred our collaboration. To see blue mana, to me and my ilk, was intolerable. And, to his ilk, our red mana was a burden for us to be saved from.

I’ve received word from someone from back home. But not my home, nor the people’s of the other folds of Xerex. But rather, a man from the constructionist side. The judge. Each of us formed from some aspect of intelligent life. Our ilk was pleasures, entertainment and arts. His, formed from the law and rules, contracts, businesses. They are the embodiment of wealth, laws and obligations.

This judge, it demands my return. I left Xerex without any permissions, which meant leaving my home sector. He demands recourse for this, some currency him and his cronies invented. It may be Parallel Pieces, maybe Xynzar, maybe even the concept of guilt is how he demands payment, the emotions expressed being some sick game to maintain order.

Regardless, I must be home eventually. It’s nice to decompress into my full set of spacial dimensions, be freed from the burdens of disgust when my human-ish form twists its arm further than normal, opens its jaw too wide, crunches its back as it walks. I have people to speak to. I don’t think I have much left to say, as I leave Bloomburrow. I said I’d planeswalk immediately, but I’m in the middle of a field, it’s midnight, and the blades around me seem eager to dance. I long to join them, prancing freely in endless winds, becoming one with them, for their lives rise and sink like sine waves, no burdens of multiple bodies impacting an orbit. A rise and fall of seasons is all they need.

I doubt I need to perform anything risky to escape this situation. Last time anything major happened with them, I used some spells I’m less than proud of. Their bodies were inverted, where I could shift my form they could not, where I could form a kick they fractured their physical connections. My body is a wash of loosely connected polygons, theirs a weaving of them, except with steel instead of string. I still cannot forget the sounds when I used this spell, I think it was their replication of fear. What was left was a crash of metal plates, and a faint echo. Never caught, never punished. They cannot report what had no witnesses, but now I’m free from that. That life of only a year ago is not me. I can be joyful, not some enigma, an abomination without remorse. I can be, who I believe to be, myself.

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Notes Day Two) Off to Bloomburrow!

I had a… unique disappearance from Arcavios. I got food from this loxodon at the stall, this reddish soup with pink in it, and ate it. The bowl too, which is a huge cultural taboo, and felt awful in a human mouth. I only learned of the ridiculous of this when I found myself elsewhere, after fleeing the markets staff, where cutlery is a thing on other planes.

That was when I was contacted (thank you box) to meet on this ‘Blooming Burrow’, a plane where I would be reshaped, supposedly. Out of curiosity, I went, and met with some lovely souls. But, I was this avian. I had actual bones, rather than the illusion of them (I believe our non-fractal neighbours have them too!) and a wonderful plumage. Everywhere I walked (despite having wings, I had no strength in them) I left this ochre flash, another step it turned crimson, then emerald, all again and again.

I danced halfway across the Valley before meeting these friendly folk, who, in exchange for some spotlight and celebration told me of a Bumbleflower, a woman who would likely know anything about anyone. Hopefully, my friends are anybodies! Their homes, they might be. Huge stars, seeing audiences scales beyond my direct polygon of folks.

They’d be lovely to bring along, but Omenpaths looked hard to navigate. I wish never to rely on them, they’re seemingly random, this Walking feels, natural. What would I do if, it stopped?

I’m probably waking up the toad who lives under this bridge of no ends. It’s this oak material, planks all knobbly and shaken, but it seems to end in mid-air, like the other earth it linked to fell. This is the end of my notes for today. I suppose this is what a diary is.

Sign-off? Signing off? Whatever they say,

Viridian

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Is it performance or just, for fun?

(Really sorry, we don’t have many resources on Ravnican culture beyond these Azorius Proofread versions. There all have this tacky stamp to prove it.)

Some of y’all act like murder is Such a Huge Deal and like. Get over yourself. I mean first off, it’s just fun. It is straight up a good time. Second off, it’s barely murder if they consent, basically doesn’t count. Like, I’m literally just a girl. Move on. Azor forbid I have hobbies.

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It’s a cube! Also heya Chima, cool name! Didn’t realise I’d get answers from this thingy.

I’ve worked up enough courage to get to Arcavios, it’s quite different than expected, found out that Ezza and Karu are the names of the suns, but they’re really bright. Got told that there’s a waterfall around Z2-e Metres west from where I am, it’s what my friend was talking about. I don’t know if I could illustrate what I see, but it’s the biggest thing people talk about when I mention I’m new.

Notes Day 1) Leaving home!

Hi message box! Wait I should probably define how you came about… The box I’m talking into seems to record and transmit what I say to… somewhere? I think it’s storing this. Somehow. Anyway, it’s letting me talk to people from other planes, and I got told by one of them that Arcavios would be a good first plane to visit, I’m talking into this as more of a Distract from the very real fear of falling out of reality and dying horribly’ thing, I’ve never properly tried going anywhere other than home. Yknow, folding landscapes, crystalline rivets underpinning great auroral shapes, gonna miss here if I can’t get back.

I’ll try and update this funny box soon, if I can work up the courage to actually do it. Maybe I’ll go find where the box came from and return it to the owner?

It (and by it I mean a close friend) told me Ezza and Karu were wonderful to see. It didn’t tell me if they were people or places or food, but it was extremely positive about the plane. It just used the Omenpaths though, not anything else. I wonder if it’s doing okay, wandering Omenpaths and spotting the rest of the multiverse’s many, well I don’t know what’s out there. Going to assume some sort of liquid-light refraction though, it told me about a prismatic cascade somewhere out there. Maybe these Ezza and Karu things made that technicolour flow? I’ll find out today, I have to.

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Notes Day 1) Leaving home!

Hi message box! Wait I should probably define how you came about… The box I’m talking into seems to record and transmit what I say to… somewhere? I think it’s storing this. Somehow. Anyway, it’s letting me talk to people from other planes, and I got told by one of them that Arcavios would be a good first plane to visit, I’m talking into this as more of a Distract from the very real fear of falling out of reality and dying horribly’ thing, I’ve never properly tried going anywhere other than home. Yknow, folding landscapes, crystalline rivets underpinning great auroral shapes, gonna miss here if I can’t get back.

I’ll try and update this funny box soon, if I can work up the courage to actually do it. Maybe I’ll go find where the box came from and return it to the owner?

It (and by it I mean a close friend) told me Ezza and Karu were wonderful to see. It didn’t tell me if they were people or places or food, but it was extremely positive about the plane. It just used the Omenpaths though, not anything else. I wonder if it’s doing okay, wandering Omenpaths and spotting the rest of the multiverse’s many, well I don’t know what’s out there. Going to assume some sort of liquid-light refraction though, it told me about a prismatic cascade somewhere out there. Maybe these Ezza and Karu things made that technicolour flow? I’ll find out today, I have to.

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Pride Month

Happy Pride Month from House Dimir, everyone! To celebrate this time of diversity & self-expression, we are permitting all field agents to carry one pride pin that shows the uniqueness, provided that it is small, easily concealed, and does not attract attention.

And to anyone who finds this intolerable or "too woke", I know where you live House Dimir advises you to rethink your biases before we rethink them for you.

-Chima Tannari, Archivist & Public Relations Officer

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Hello all, Xerex is among my favourite magic planes. So I made an OC from the plane.

Her name is VyV, usually going by Viridian, and is a planeswalker, capable of reshaping herself (think breaking into millions of triangles and reforming). She’s an expert in navigating Xerex, but often struggles on more euclidian planes due to their far more consistent geography. She’s quite excitable, scatter-brained and has tendency to flee when presented with anything difficult.

W B R G Colour Identity! How fun