blue white is basically mind control, enchantments that boost your stuff/restrain opponents, endless swarms of flying mobs, counters, so many counters, white kill spells mixed in with the counters, tokens from white too depending on the set, more flying, bounce, did I mention flying?
Knocking on Heaven's Door [MtG/Multicross/SI]
- Thread starter shadenight123
- Start date
- Crossover
- Location
- U.S.A.
So same as blue, but with an afterburner?
shadowace2400
Planeswalker Extraordinaire
- Location
- Texas
soooooo, church type cultists? They run cults, but advertise it like a really happy church?
Alphaleph
The Firstiest of First
As I said, either they run a Lawful cult, or bureaucrats.
Gamewise, only Blue/Black is hated more.
Lorewise, Black/White, the color of capitalist pigs and hypocrites.
Malbutorius
C'est le bien qui fait mal
Don't forget Nazis! Although you could argue Mono-White for them.
cupcakeviolater
Verified Cupcake
- Location
- USA
A contradiction. Blue is the color of the mind and logical thought, while green is the color of the body and instinctual reactions. So, a blue/green mage usually goes one of two ways: enlightened mystic completely in tune with the natural world; or a super biologist that wrecks shit with his engineered creations.
An example of the first:
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JaceAoT
The Architect
- Location
- The Netherlands
Actually, as a player that plays a lot of blue (that avatarpic tho) my experience is that blue/white is despised more during actual play. The stigma is definately that blue/black is despised utterly. The reasons for that are fairly obvious and fair.
Still, I think the worst partly blue deck to play against is a passive Esper deck (blue/black/white). Normally several ways to play it. The most effective in my humble opinion is infused with artifacts and lifegain while using the black to make hitpoints a resource.
God that deck is horrible. Only a few winconditions but it chokes you out.
At least my Grixis deck (blue/black with a bit of red) just destroys you utterly using your hand, board, graveyard and deck. It seems more straightforward. Grixis and black let you know what's happening (I'm throwing all your cards in the graveyard, and exiling them to use later). Against Esper you're just thinking: "Ok, so you gained life again to a total of 200 (not that unrealistic actually) and now control 52 1/1 flying Thopters. What do you want to do know?". It's a lot more tedious and a lot more anti-fun with counterspells and Silence-effects.
Still, I think the worst partly blue deck to play against is a passive Esper deck (blue/black/white). Normally several ways to play it. The most effective in my humble opinion is infused with artifacts and lifegain while using the black to make hitpoints a resource.
God that deck is horrible. Only a few winconditions but it chokes you out.
At least my Grixis deck (blue/black with a bit of red) just destroys you utterly using your hand, board, graveyard and deck. It seems more straightforward. Grixis and black let you know what's happening (I'm throwing all your cards in the graveyard, and exiling them to use later). Against Esper you're just thinking: "Ok, so you gained life again to a total of 200 (not that unrealistic actually) and now control 52 1/1 flying Thopters. What do you want to do know?". It's a lot more tedious and a lot more anti-fun with counterspells and Silence-effects.
Chapter Twenty-Eight (Ranma 1/2)
- Location
- https://discord.gg/z9tBvbh
Chapter Twenty-Eight (Ranma 1/2)
Rito was, appropriately, shocked. At the same time the Planeswalker did not waste time in roughly manhandling him up from his seat and starting to drag him away. "We need to leave, we need to leave right now before they catch us," he spoke hastily, glancing right and left in a hurry. "How can you not even feel them? You must have Sparked recently, kid," he added. He didn't make the door, mostly because Ranma stood up and nonchalantly plopped his back against it in the time it took for the man to get there.
"Get out of the way," the man said, his eyes narrow.
"Man, I dunno what you wanna do, but you realize we're at school right?" Ranma replied with a yawn, "And we're still having lessons," he gestured at the old professor, who was actually at a loss of words for what was going on, and was most aptly moving his body beneath his desk, as he did whenever things took a turn for the rough with his delinquent students. "So how about you let him go and wait after hours?"
"I'm sorry," the man added apologetically, "But we don't have the time," and with a swing of the hand, flower petals began to sprout out of Ranma's hair like a crown. The next second, Ranma sat down and achieved peace, humming with his eyes closed much to the consternation of Ryoga, who now stood up in turn and rushed forward.
"Oi! The hell kind of martial arts is that-"
He found himself soon joining Ranma on the quest for ascension through meditation, and as the Planeswalker kept dragging Rito away, the boy ended up losing in trying to break free. As Rito was pulled along the hallway, the Planeswalker took deep breaths. "Listen kid, I know you're feeling scared, but you gotta trust me. You've got questions, but this isn't the place. We need to get the hell out of here before the Slivers get wind of you, or they're going to eat you whole and spit out...well, nothing, because they don't spit out nothing, but—ah, fuck, I'm not making any sense to you, am I?"
"N—No?" Rito replied.
"Name's John," the man said. "John Connor," he continued. "You need to understand kid that we're in a fucked up mess," he extended a hand, White Mana brimming to life as a pale ethereal creature appeared, white cloths fluttering to an unseen breeze as arrows stuck through his skin, yet the white cloth was not marred by blood, but remained as pristine as snow. "Listen, the short version is...you're a Planeswalker, you have a lot of power, and there's a really big and bad threat in this spot of the Multiverse. I'm always on the lookout for new Planeswalkers around these parts—some, I manage to get to before the Slivers get to them first." He looked around, taking small but quick breaths. "How did you even manage not to notice? Their stench is everywhere."
"Their what now?" Rito asked, worried. "Where are we even going?" he asked next, "And what did you do to my classmates?"
"We're leaving this place," John said, "There's a net around this school that prevents travel through planes. You didn't even notice that, did you? Going to school like nothing changed," John continued. "But everything changed, kid. Everything changed, and you're a part of it now," and as he said that, the duo reached the school entrance. "They've been encroaching on you and you didn't even realize?" he pulled out from his somber-looking robes a hefty shotgun, and as I gazed at him, I suddenly hissed as the connection came less with the thundering shot echoing through the school.
The Sliver in question shrieked loudly as blood sprayed across the hallway, but to his scream, the rest of his brethren acted as one.
The walls burst as the Slivers hidden within them emerged skittering and clawing through the concrete and the pain, rupturing from the shadows as their fallen brother suddenly pulsed with energies and the flesh knitted itself back together, the advancing horde suddenly coming to an abrupt halt as from a mixture of mana a set of flashy-looking grenades emerged from John's robes, exploding behind them as the white-clothed spirit dispersed into nebulous fog around the duo's frames.
"Get to the courtyard!" John screamed, even as Rito's eyes widened as he was pushed past the main doors and straight into the courtyard.
The school gates were closed, but that wouldn't have stopped a resolute Planeswalker.
"Wait! Wait just a moment!" Rito yelled, "I'm not here—"
And in that moment, I made my appearance.
Well, more like, my battle-worthy appearance that would have seen me getting a few copyright infringement notices from those fine folks at the Warhammer company if they ever caught whiff of just how much design ideas I had stolen from their Tyranids. My form easily shadowed the school as pulsing masses of tumor-like growth crawled across my skin, my wings of leathery flesh folded behind my back. Claws and fangs spread across my skin, hungry mouths and facial Sliver plates acting as shoulder guards and motifs all across my frame. Honestly, I was a thing out of the worst nightmares that could ever be conceived.
"Going somewhere?" I asked, my voice that of a thousand mouths. Burning, whirring and rupturing machines suddenly birthed into existence across the air as Rito was pushed away into the hands of a burly-looking humanoid creature by John.
"Bring him out!" John yelled to the Terminator, receiving a curt nod in reply as the creature with the semblances of Arnold Schwarzenegger did just that, lifting up Rito with ease as if he were just a package that needed postal delivery. Creatures with golden staves and white cloths emerged from the Aether, and I scoffed, chuckling as my laughter made the windows of the school reverberate.
"A duel between Planeswalkers...you are a foolish one, are you not?" the tumor-like growths suddenly burst asunder, lances of pure white light spreading from the skies to come raining down upon my frame, and that of my Slivers. Yet as the windows of the first floor crashed to allow more of the Hive to emerge, as the ground itself quaked and battering rams made flesh emerged, the mutations already rippled across the entirety of the army. Giant scythe-like limbs came down to slice at advanced-looking helicopters, bullets spreading holes into the regenerating flesh of the Slivers.
John Connor flew upwards, a pair of angels lifting him up swiftly as an assorted collection of dragons with blue scales and feathered humanoid chickens came to his side.
The ground quaked as I suddenly lost my balance slightly, a wall of water emerging from the fissures in the ground to drown the Slivers not quick enough to sprout wings and take flight, and yet their corpses floated upwards into the skies, now bloated with pustules of white liquids. The clouds had been replaced by warring angels, bringing down their flaming swords upon creatures whose scales were hard enough to act as mighty shields.
Angels with four arms and four swords spun in the battlefield like hurricanes of death, while the air charged with magic both mighty and powerful, an unnatural cyclone forming in the air. Admittedly, when it concerned the slinging of spells, I was at a disadvantage. On the other hand, I didn't need spells when I had powerful tools at my disposal. A flash of crystalline purity twisted the air around myself and my brothers as the cyclone hit, shattering not just the ground already drowning in water, but also the school, the surrounding area, and much of Nerima itself.
There was no care for the unwarranted destruction, no grief nor a second thought spent on it. It merely had to be, and so it was. John Connor could probably bring them all back to life afterwards, repair everything as if nothing had happened before. It was for that reason that he did not care about the lives that had just been lost.
When death is but a tiny pebble, then life itself becomes insignificant and meaningless.
On the crumbled remains of Nerima We stood unscathed. The skies slowly but surely turned upon us in favor, and as chains of light and shackles of wrought iron ensnared and entrapped the enemies that could not be killed, as the blades fell from angels' hands and holy blood rained down, We chewed, We devoured and We neared. My body lunged forward, quills as large as ancient oaks spat out from my mouths, only for shields of white light to shatter and slow them down.
Searing columns of fire hit and dispersed harmlessly as the Slivers sang, their voices reverberating across the air in a cacophony that was a sweet, sweet music to my ears. The next blow came and sent John to fall down on the ground, his body half-dented and broken. I stared at him, and then sighed.
Well, rather than him, I stared at the shapeshifter that had taken his place somewhere in the middle of the battle, and sighed deeply.
The blistering air crackled as time warped and split apart at its streams, thousands of eyes seeking through the strands of the past the actions taken until that moment, my eyes those of the Hive, the Hive's eyes mine. Through them, through the vision of Time shattered, broken and then mended, I saw the swap happen, and I saw the direction taken. I felt the energies gather, and understood the place they had gone to.
The skies cleared as I took the Hive back within my bulk, the tumorous growths reforming and then smoothing back into seemingly normal skin as my body compacted and shrunk in size, the battle's devastating effects morphing away, returning the town of Nerima to its previous state as the humans crushed beneath the rubble abruptly sprung back to life, acting as if nothing had happened, as if nobody had died, or suffered, or saw death arrive from the skies.
In the stillness and silence of normality, I took a deep breath.
I took a deep breath, and then I left behind this plane.
John Connor might have defeated Skynet, but he should have known better than to pick a fight with the Hive.
My feet landed upon soft grass, the clear sky above my head so pristine and pure it made me inwardly sick inside to behold it.
Very calmly, a small rock-like formation left my open palm as I glanced at my surroundings.
Thus, from the tiny rock that I threw by my side, a massive mountain-like formation grew and within it, countless eggs soon began to grow, nurtured by Mana, and most importantly, hatch.
An idyllic earth post-Skynet was in front of me, with its verdant grass, buildings at the far end of my sight gleaming and filled with workers trying to rebuild and recover their civilization, and rubble thrown haphazardly away from the few habitable centers. This world knew peace as it licked its wounds and tried to recover its past glory.
It would be peaceful no longer.
Rito was, appropriately, shocked. At the same time the Planeswalker did not waste time in roughly manhandling him up from his seat and starting to drag him away. "We need to leave, we need to leave right now before they catch us," he spoke hastily, glancing right and left in a hurry. "How can you not even feel them? You must have Sparked recently, kid," he added. He didn't make the door, mostly because Ranma stood up and nonchalantly plopped his back against it in the time it took for the man to get there.
"Get out of the way," the man said, his eyes narrow.
"Man, I dunno what you wanna do, but you realize we're at school right?" Ranma replied with a yawn, "And we're still having lessons," he gestured at the old professor, who was actually at a loss of words for what was going on, and was most aptly moving his body beneath his desk, as he did whenever things took a turn for the rough with his delinquent students. "So how about you let him go and wait after hours?"
"I'm sorry," the man added apologetically, "But we don't have the time," and with a swing of the hand, flower petals began to sprout out of Ranma's hair like a crown. The next second, Ranma sat down and achieved peace, humming with his eyes closed much to the consternation of Ryoga, who now stood up in turn and rushed forward.
"Oi! The hell kind of martial arts is that-"
He found himself soon joining Ranma on the quest for ascension through meditation, and as the Planeswalker kept dragging Rito away, the boy ended up losing in trying to break free. As Rito was pulled along the hallway, the Planeswalker took deep breaths. "Listen kid, I know you're feeling scared, but you gotta trust me. You've got questions, but this isn't the place. We need to get the hell out of here before the Slivers get wind of you, or they're going to eat you whole and spit out...well, nothing, because they don't spit out nothing, but—ah, fuck, I'm not making any sense to you, am I?"
"N—No?" Rito replied.
"Name's John," the man said. "John Connor," he continued. "You need to understand kid that we're in a fucked up mess," he extended a hand, White Mana brimming to life as a pale ethereal creature appeared, white cloths fluttering to an unseen breeze as arrows stuck through his skin, yet the white cloth was not marred by blood, but remained as pristine as snow. "Listen, the short version is...you're a Planeswalker, you have a lot of power, and there's a really big and bad threat in this spot of the Multiverse. I'm always on the lookout for new Planeswalkers around these parts—some, I manage to get to before the Slivers get to them first." He looked around, taking small but quick breaths. "How did you even manage not to notice? Their stench is everywhere."
"Their what now?" Rito asked, worried. "Where are we even going?" he asked next, "And what did you do to my classmates?"
"We're leaving this place," John said, "There's a net around this school that prevents travel through planes. You didn't even notice that, did you? Going to school like nothing changed," John continued. "But everything changed, kid. Everything changed, and you're a part of it now," and as he said that, the duo reached the school entrance. "They've been encroaching on you and you didn't even realize?" he pulled out from his somber-looking robes a hefty shotgun, and as I gazed at him, I suddenly hissed as the connection came less with the thundering shot echoing through the school.
The Sliver in question shrieked loudly as blood sprayed across the hallway, but to his scream, the rest of his brethren acted as one.
The walls burst as the Slivers hidden within them emerged skittering and clawing through the concrete and the pain, rupturing from the shadows as their fallen brother suddenly pulsed with energies and the flesh knitted itself back together, the advancing horde suddenly coming to an abrupt halt as from a mixture of mana a set of flashy-looking grenades emerged from John's robes, exploding behind them as the white-clothed spirit dispersed into nebulous fog around the duo's frames.
"Get to the courtyard!" John screamed, even as Rito's eyes widened as he was pushed past the main doors and straight into the courtyard.
The school gates were closed, but that wouldn't have stopped a resolute Planeswalker.
"Wait! Wait just a moment!" Rito yelled, "I'm not here—"
And in that moment, I made my appearance.
Well, more like, my battle-worthy appearance that would have seen me getting a few copyright infringement notices from those fine folks at the Warhammer company if they ever caught whiff of just how much design ideas I had stolen from their Tyranids. My form easily shadowed the school as pulsing masses of tumor-like growth crawled across my skin, my wings of leathery flesh folded behind my back. Claws and fangs spread across my skin, hungry mouths and facial Sliver plates acting as shoulder guards and motifs all across my frame. Honestly, I was a thing out of the worst nightmares that could ever be conceived.
"Going somewhere?" I asked, my voice that of a thousand mouths. Burning, whirring and rupturing machines suddenly birthed into existence across the air as Rito was pushed away into the hands of a burly-looking humanoid creature by John.
"Bring him out!" John yelled to the Terminator, receiving a curt nod in reply as the creature with the semblances of Arnold Schwarzenegger did just that, lifting up Rito with ease as if he were just a package that needed postal delivery. Creatures with golden staves and white cloths emerged from the Aether, and I scoffed, chuckling as my laughter made the windows of the school reverberate.
"A duel between Planeswalkers...you are a foolish one, are you not?" the tumor-like growths suddenly burst asunder, lances of pure white light spreading from the skies to come raining down upon my frame, and that of my Slivers. Yet as the windows of the first floor crashed to allow more of the Hive to emerge, as the ground itself quaked and battering rams made flesh emerged, the mutations already rippled across the entirety of the army. Giant scythe-like limbs came down to slice at advanced-looking helicopters, bullets spreading holes into the regenerating flesh of the Slivers.
John Connor flew upwards, a pair of angels lifting him up swiftly as an assorted collection of dragons with blue scales and feathered humanoid chickens came to his side.
The ground quaked as I suddenly lost my balance slightly, a wall of water emerging from the fissures in the ground to drown the Slivers not quick enough to sprout wings and take flight, and yet their corpses floated upwards into the skies, now bloated with pustules of white liquids. The clouds had been replaced by warring angels, bringing down their flaming swords upon creatures whose scales were hard enough to act as mighty shields.
Angels with four arms and four swords spun in the battlefield like hurricanes of death, while the air charged with magic both mighty and powerful, an unnatural cyclone forming in the air. Admittedly, when it concerned the slinging of spells, I was at a disadvantage. On the other hand, I didn't need spells when I had powerful tools at my disposal. A flash of crystalline purity twisted the air around myself and my brothers as the cyclone hit, shattering not just the ground already drowning in water, but also the school, the surrounding area, and much of Nerima itself.
There was no care for the unwarranted destruction, no grief nor a second thought spent on it. It merely had to be, and so it was. John Connor could probably bring them all back to life afterwards, repair everything as if nothing had happened before. It was for that reason that he did not care about the lives that had just been lost.
When death is but a tiny pebble, then life itself becomes insignificant and meaningless.
On the crumbled remains of Nerima We stood unscathed. The skies slowly but surely turned upon us in favor, and as chains of light and shackles of wrought iron ensnared and entrapped the enemies that could not be killed, as the blades fell from angels' hands and holy blood rained down, We chewed, We devoured and We neared. My body lunged forward, quills as large as ancient oaks spat out from my mouths, only for shields of white light to shatter and slow them down.
Searing columns of fire hit and dispersed harmlessly as the Slivers sang, their voices reverberating across the air in a cacophony that was a sweet, sweet music to my ears. The next blow came and sent John to fall down on the ground, his body half-dented and broken. I stared at him, and then sighed.
Well, rather than him, I stared at the shapeshifter that had taken his place somewhere in the middle of the battle, and sighed deeply.
The blistering air crackled as time warped and split apart at its streams, thousands of eyes seeking through the strands of the past the actions taken until that moment, my eyes those of the Hive, the Hive's eyes mine. Through them, through the vision of Time shattered, broken and then mended, I saw the swap happen, and I saw the direction taken. I felt the energies gather, and understood the place they had gone to.
The skies cleared as I took the Hive back within my bulk, the tumorous growths reforming and then smoothing back into seemingly normal skin as my body compacted and shrunk in size, the battle's devastating effects morphing away, returning the town of Nerima to its previous state as the humans crushed beneath the rubble abruptly sprung back to life, acting as if nothing had happened, as if nobody had died, or suffered, or saw death arrive from the skies.
In the stillness and silence of normality, I took a deep breath.
I took a deep breath, and then I left behind this plane.
John Connor might have defeated Skynet, but he should have known better than to pick a fight with the Hive.
My feet landed upon soft grass, the clear sky above my head so pristine and pure it made me inwardly sick inside to behold it.
Very calmly, a small rock-like formation left my open palm as I glanced at my surroundings.
Thus, from the tiny rock that I threw by my side, a massive mountain-like formation grew and within it, countless eggs soon began to grow, nurtured by Mana, and most importantly, hatch.
An idyllic earth post-Skynet was in front of me, with its verdant grass, buildings at the far end of my sight gleaming and filled with workers trying to rebuild and recover their civilization, and rubble thrown haphazardly away from the few habitable centers. This world knew peace as it licked its wounds and tried to recover its past glory.
It would be peaceful no longer.
- Location
- Italy
John Connor... Tsk tsk tsk...
Nice knowing you. I will make sure that you will have a nice coffin.
Nice knowing you. I will make sure that you will have a nice coffin.
StellarMonarch
Myrmidon
- Location
- Québec
He defied the Hive for little reason.
He shall regret it.
He shall regret it.
Morphic Tide
Crazy Brainstormer, Munchkin and Wannabe Min-Maxer
- Location
- MI, USA
Well, he's officially into Stupid Good territory, with that reacting without figuring out what's going on. Best case scenario for Mr. Conner, Shade's Slivers get snagged by 'Walkers and are out of control in the area. Worst case, he ran into a separate set of Slivers unrelated to Shade's and as such is doomed to face the wrath of a 'Walker who's trying to teach their younger kin.
Alphaleph
The Firstiest of First
Kinda surprised that John Connor doesn't have red or green. What's the one thing White & Blue are missing? I mean anti artifact right?
- Location
- Net Slum Tartarga
I dunno, it looked like you're the one picking a fight.
Nah. John started it by stealing away Shade's stuff.
Godzillaslayer10
I am ready for this quest!
- Location
- Somewhere
I feel like I'm missing some context on MTG are silvers the multiverse's version of Tyranids?
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Yeah, they are pretty bad. Not Phyrexia bad, but they still destroyed an entire plane iirc.
Morphic Tide
Crazy Brainstormer, Munchkin and Wannabe Min-Maxer
- Location
- MI, USA
Basically, but every Sliver has a version of the Synapse creature buff-zone. Also, the Slivers have to hitch-hike for getting between Planes.
Trusty_Chester
That One Guy
- Location
- Texas
And he poked the dragon.
Godzillaslayer10
I am ready for this quest!
- Location
- Somewhere
So Connor's worry is kinda justified?
- Location
- Ireland
I think it somewhat depends on shade on how this particular group of slivers act. Then again this is shade we are talking about...
Connor does not need to worry about slivers. He just took shade's source of entertainment.
TheLurker
Random Omnipotent Lazy-As-Fuck Being
- Location
- The space beyond the stars
Eh, kinda, kinda not. I imagine there's some lingering trauma from skynet there.
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Funny how nobody batted an eye to Shade's reaction to the possibility of Phyrexia knowing of his world but lots of people bitch about Connor's reaction to an actual interimensional Sliver presence.
Phyrexia is a lot worse than the Slivers. The Slivers were just a tool to one of Yawgmoth's little toy generals in his grand scheme to turn everything everywhere into a screaming metal atrocity.