#more magic lore!!!

[artifeast]

THAT!!!!!!!!! EPISODE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[grailknightmonty]

upon the heart of magic mountain 🌸🗻

from the oceanic goddess revered in the cyberpunk city on its hillside, to the stories of the ochre-feathered canary who's song hasn't been heard in years, it has been long thought by theorists that perhaps the magic imbued into this mountain was no coincidence- but rather the creation of mystical beings seeking to make a haven of sorts, a home protected by the powers that lie within this volcanic formation.

[tartppola]

very specific au thought, silver if he was the shield instead ( read the tags to see explanations )

[ohno-the-sun]

Hey for your magical girl AU. Is eclipse a thing?

Also what would happen if both of the lil mini mascot things possess one person at the same time? I'm curious by nature and really wanna know! *points pencil at the 2 lil fairy mascot things*

Both the little sun and moon can’t posses one person for too long or else they start to burn out

It’s a little too much energy for one person

Hmmm sun and moon seem like their hiding something how odd

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Against Lore

For the rest of May, my bestselling solarpunk utopian novel THE LOST CAUSE (2023) is available as a $2.99, DRM-free ebook!

One of my favorite nuggets of writing advice comes from James D Macdonald. Jim, a Navy vet with an encylopedic knowledge of gun lore, explained to a group of non-gun people how to write guns without getting derided by other gun people: "just add the word 'modified.'"

As in, "Her modified AR-15 kicked against her shoulder as she squeezed the trigger, but she held it steady on the car door, watching it disintegrate in a spatter of bullet-holes."

Jim's big idea was that gun people couldn't help but chew away at the verisimilitude of your fictional guns, their brains would automatically latch onto them and try to find the errors. But the word "modified" hijacked that impulse and turned it to the writer's advantage: a gun person's imagination gnaws at that word "modified," spinning up the cleverest possible explanation for how the gun in question could behave as depicted.

In other words, the gun person's impulse to one-up the writer by demonstrating their superior knowledge becomes an impulse to impart that superior knowledge to the writer. "Modified" puts the expert and the bullshitter on the same team, and conscripts the expert into fleshing out the bullshitter's lies.

Yes, writing is lying. Storytelling is genuinely weird. A storyteller who has successfully captured the audience has done so by convincing their hindbrains to care about the tribulations of imaginary people. These are people whose suffering, by definition, do not matter. Imaginary things didn't happen, so they can't matter. The deaths of Romeo and Juliet were less tragic than the death of the yogurt you had for breakfast. That yogurt was alive and now it's dead, whereas R&J never lived, never died, and don't matter:

https://locusmag.com/2014/11/cory-doctorow-stories-are-a-fuggly-hack/

Hijacking a stranger's empathic response is intrinsically adversarial. While storytelling is a benign activity, its underlying mechanic is extremely dangerous. Getting us to care about things that don't matter is how novels and movies work, but it's also how cults and cons work.

Cult leaders and con-artists know that they're engaged in mind-to-mind combat, and they make liberal use of Jim's hack of leaving blank spots for the mark to fill in. Think of Qanon drops: the mystical nonsense was just close enough to sensical that a vulnerable audience was compelled to try and untangle them, and ended up imparting more meaning to them than the hustler who posted them ever could have dreamt up.

Same with cons – there's a great scene in the Leverage: Redemption heist show where an experienced con-artist explains to a novice that the most convincing hustle is the one where you wait for the mark to tell you what they think you're doing, then run with it (scambaiters and other skeptics will recognize this as a relative of the "cold reading," where a "psychic" uses your own confirmations to flesh out their predictions).

As Douglas Adams put it:

A towel has immense psychological value. For some reason, if a strag (strag: non-hitch hiker) discovers that a hitch hiker has his towel with him, he will automatically assume that he is also in possession of a toothbrush, face flannel, soap, tin of biscuits, flask, compass, map, ball of string, gnat spray, wet weather gear, space suit etc., etc. Furthermore, the strag will then happily lend the hitch hiker any of these or a dozen other items that the hitch hiker might accidentally have "lost". What the strag will think is that any man who can hitch the length and breadth of the galaxy, rough it, slum it, struggle against terrible odds, win through, and still knows where his towel is is clearly a man to be reckoned with.

Magicians know this one, too. The point of a sleight is to misdirect the audience's attention, and use that moment of misattention to trick them, vanishing, stashing or producing something. The mark's mind is caught in a pleasurable agony: something seemingly impossible just happened. The mind splits into two parts, one of which insists that the impossible just happened, the other insisting that the impossible can't happen.

You know you've done it right if the audience says, "Do that again!" And that's the one thing you must not do. So long as you don't repeat the trick, the audience's imagination will chew on it endlessly, coming up with incredibly clever things that you must have done (a clever conjurer will know several ways to produce the same effect and will "do it again" by reproducing the effect via different means, which exponentially increases the audience's automatic imputation of clever methods to the performer).

Not for nothing, Jim Macdonald advises his writing students to study Magic and Showmanship, a classic text for aspiring conjurers:

https://memex.craphound.com/2007/11/13/magic-and-showmanship-classic-book-about-conjuring-has-many-lessons-for-writers/

There's a version of this in comedy, too. The scholarship of humor is clear on this: comedy comes from surprise. The audience knows they're about to be surprised when the punchline lands, and their mind is furiously trying to defuse the comedian's bomb before it detonates, cycling through potential punchlines of their own. This ramps up the suspense and the tension, so when the comedian does drop the punchline, the tension is released in a whoosh of laughter.

Your mind wants the tension to be resolved ASAP, but the pleasure comes from having that desire thwarted. Comedy – like most performance – has an element of authoritarianism. You don't give the audience what it wants, you give it what it needs.

Same goes for TTRPGs: the game master's role is to deny the players the victories and treasure they want, until they can't take it anymore, and then deliver it. That's the definition of an epic game. It's one of the durable advantages of human GMs over video game back-ends: they can ramp up the epicness by "cheating" on the play, giving the players the chance to squeak out improbable victories at the last possible second:

https://wilwheaton.typepad.com/wwdnbackup/2009/03/behind-the-screen.html

This is so effective that even crude approximations of it can turn video-games into cult hits – like Left4Dead, whose "Director" back-end would notice when the players were about to get destroyed and then substantially ramped up the chances of finding an amazing weapon – the chance would still be low overall, but there would be enough moments when the player got exactly what they'd been praying for, at the last possible instant, that it would feel amazing:

https://left4dead.fandom.com/wiki/The_Director#Special_Infected

Critically, Left4Dead's Director didn't do this every time. As any showman knows, the key to a great performance is "Always leave 'em wanting more." The musician's successful finale depends on doing every encore the audience demands, except the last one, so the crowd leaves with one tantalyzing and imaginary song playing in their minds, a performance better than any the musicians themselves could have delivered. Like the gun person who comes up with a cooler mod than the writer ever could, like the magic show attendee who comes up with a more elaborate explanation for the sleight than the conjurer could ever pull off, like the comedy club attendee whose imagination anticipates a surprise that grows larger the longer the joke goes on, the successful performance is an adversarial act of cooperation where the audience willingly and unwillingly cooperates with the performer to deny them the thing that they think they need, and deliver the thing they actually need.

This is my biggest problem with the notion that someday LLMs will get good enough at storytelling to give us the tales we demand, without having to suffer through a storyteller's sadistic denial of the resolutions we crave. When I'm reading a mystery, I want to turn to the last page and find out whodunnit, but I know that doing so will ruin the story. Telling the storyteller how the story should go is like trying to tickle yourself.

Like being tickled, experiencing only fun if the tickler respects your boundaries – but, like being tickled, there's always a part where you're squirming away, but you don't want it to stop. An AI storyteller that gives you exactly what you want is like a dungeon master who declares that every sword-swing kills the monster, and every treasure chest is full of epic items and platinum pieces. Yes, that's what you want, but if you get it, what's the point?

Seen in this light, performance is a kind of sado-masochism, where the performer delights in denying something to the audience, who, in turn, delights in the denial. Don't give the audience what they want, give them what they need.

What your audience needs is their own imagination. Decades ago, I was a freelance copywriter producing sales materials for Alias/Wavefront, a then-leading CGI firm that was inventing all kinds of never-seen VFX that would blow people away. One of the engineers I worked with told me something I never forgot: "Your imagination has more polygons than anything you can create with our software." He was talking about why it was critical to have some of the action happen in the shadows.

All of this is why series tend to go downhill. The first volume in any series leaves so much to the imagination. The map of the world is barely fleshed out, the characters' biographies are full of blank spots, the mechanics of the artifacts and the politics of the land are all just detailed enough that your mind automatically ascribes a level of detail to them, without knowing what that detail is.

This is the moment at which everything seems very clever, because your mind is just churning with all the different bits of elaborate lore that will fill in those lacunae and make them all fit together.

SPOILER ALERT: I'm about to give some spoilers for Furiosa.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

FURIOSA SPOILERS AHEAD!

Last night, we went to see Furiosa, the latest Mad Max movie, a prequel to 2015's Fury Road, which is one of the greatest movies ever made. Like most prequels, Furiosa functions as a lore-delivery vehicle, and as such, it's nowhere near as good as Fury Road.

Fury Road hints as so much worldbuilding. We learn about the three fortresses of the wasteland (the Citadel, the Bullet Farm, and Gastown) but we only see one (The Citadel). We learn that these three cities have a symbiotic relationship with one another, defined by a complex politics that is just barely stable. We meet Furiosa herself, and learn something of her biography – that she had been stolen from the Green Place, that she had suffered an arm amputation.

All of this is left for us to fill in, and for a decade, my hindbrain has been chewing on all of that, coming up with cool ways it could all fit together. I yearned to know the "real" explanation, but it was always unlikely that this real explanation would be as enjoyable as my own partial, ever-unfinished headcanon.

Furiosa is a great movie, but its worst parts are the canonical lore it settles. Partly, that's because some of that lore is just stupid. Why is the Bullet Farm an open-pit mine? I mean, it's visually amazing, but what does that have to do with making bullets? Sometimes, it's because the lore is banal – the solarpunk Green Place is a million times less cool than I had imagined it. Sometimes, it's because the lore is banal and stupid: the scenes where Furiosa's arm is crushed, then severed, then replaced, are both rushed and quasi-miraculous:

https://www.themarysue.com/how-does-furiosa-lose-her-arm/

But even if the lore had been good – not stupid, not banal – the best they could have hoped for was for the lore to be tidy. If it were surprising, it would seem contrived. A story whose loose ends have been tidily snipped away seems like it would be immensely satisfying, but it's not satisfying – it's just resolved. Like the band performing every encore you demand, until you no longer want to hear the band anymore – the feeling as you leave the hall isn't satisfaction, it's exhaustion.

So long as some key question remains unresolved, you're still wanting more. So long as the map has blank spots, your hindbrain will impute clever and exciting mysteries, tantalyzingly teetering on the edge of explicability, to the story.

Lore is always better as something to anticipate than it is to receive. The fans demand lore, but it should be doled out sparingly. Always leave 'em wanting more.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/27/cmon-do-it-again/#better_to_remain_silent_and_be_thought_a_fool_than_to_speak_and_remove_all_doubt

[carouselunique]

They had a bit of a chance encounter on a day where Blueblood was dealing with something that was very difficult and was so caught up in his emotions he didn’t even care that he was in the garden getting grass stans on his coat and Ditzy, with her natural impulse to cheer ponies up, didn’t even notice or care that she was flying into the palace gardens when she saw someone sat in the rain.

At first he was definitely going to call the castle guards to come apprehend this strange filly with the odd eyes who was intruding when this was the last moment he’d want to entertain any desperate debutantes, however she surprised him by not fawning or anything, not even caring about his status, just putting one of her fluffy wings up and asking if he needed somepony to lend an ear.

“Don’t let my eyes fool you, my ears work just fine!”

She was incredibly disarming and while he didn’t reveal everything about why he was upset, he found himself talking about his feelings to her. And she made such cheerful remarks, and was very comforting. In the end, he felt better and she came to check on him the next day, even sharing a blueberry muffin with him. He remarked that he’d never seen her around before, and that he wouldn’t mind terribly seeing her more often.

The rest, as they say, is history.

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 134

One of the young justice members is complaining about how their parents or mentors benched them after getting injured. 

And Marvel snorting and saying that that reminds him of Phantom. And of course, the YJ crew, ask who that is. 

“Oh Phantoms my big brother, pops never really understood our human halves or limits so…” and he just shrugs like he didn’t just drop Lore. And the teens smell blood in the water, they want to know more. 

[quess-art]

A Sweet Treat - Travelling Journals

⇐ Previous | Memento of The Dark Urge | Next ⇒

[rad-roche]

you know, i was ready to be cynical about the fallout mtg crossover, but consider me pleasantly surprised. a lot of thought and care went into it. yes man has my favourite card effect of the bunch

everybody just bosses him around. thrown from player to player. that's so funny

[vigilante24ish]

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1738

Chapter 20:

You all had sat around the warm fire, sharing some of Jen's handmade on-the-spot perfume paste that took away the stench of dead leaves, sweat, and mud that existed on you.

Slowly, the mood had started to change, and with Teen back to his live self and his new scar; everyone took turns showing off their scars, briefly mentioning the cool story behind it.

That was, until Agatha joined, sitting at the empty space between you and Rio; not too close to any of you, as if herself feeling divided.

And then Rio had to tell about her scar, changing the mood as subtle messages were clearly behind her story; upsetting both you and Agatha.

You watched Agatha be the first one to leave the circle right after Rio confessed her "scar." You barely lifted your head to watch her go or cared when Rio went after her.

By now you had come to realize who this mysterious green witch was, and what she was to Agatha.

A part of you, deep down, was not surprised. You often spent a lot of time away from one another and she was not forced to remain focused to you alone; the fact that you did it for her, was merely out of your loyalty for her.

Yet somehow, it still bothered you. Seeing those looks she would often give you, now directed to her. The way Rio would try to invade her personal space and make her react, testing your patience and the fact that you did not wish to interfere.

Perhaps you should, but who were you to lay such a claim? When you had left Agatha on her own so many times? And who said Agatha wished to be claimed by you?

Those questions and thoughts had darkened your mood and it was evident on your face, something the other witches noticed.

They didn't know exactly what relationship you had with Agatha, mixed signals confusing them to the end, but they had their suspicions.

Thankfully for you, there was one kind hearted soul in the group that did not like to see you down.

"I still don't think I thanked you enough...uhm..." Teen started, keeping his usual smile but feeling slightly embarrassed since he never got your name.

Truthfully, you had not told anyone your name, and Agatha had only been calling you by your nickname; something no witch had dared to call you.

You smiled faintly and turned your attention in him. "Y/N," you introduced yourself, earning an even bigger smile from him.

"Well then, thank you," he continued. "I owe you."

"You owe me nothing. I am glad you are okay. " You offered a small weak smile.

"Though I have to ask... how did you do it?" He asked, grabbing his little book. "What kind of spell was that?"

To your help, somehow, came the oldest of the witches; Lilia. "This was no spell, kid," she explained, earning his attention. "This are the tricks and magic of a Moon Witch."

Teen was suddenly intrigued. "Moon witch? I don't think I have read a lot about you." he confessed.

You offered a sad smile. "I am afraid my kind is not that well known or welcomed. Not many witches are chosen for it, either."

"It is the type of witch dedicated to the moon and its phases. The very same entity witches pray over spells, blessed them with power," Lilia explained, once again.

Teen was very invensted. "So, you do what... Moon magic?"

"If only," Jen interrupted him. "Moon magic s the purest form of magic. It is literally the essence of blessing, purification, and protection of the highest form. Moon Witches are the OG white witches."

"Then why don't other witches take that path? Why is it not known in the books?"

"Because it is a cursed path that you do not choose but rather get chosen," Lilia said, her tone getting colder as personal experiences biased her opinion. "Unpredictable and destructive nature of magic. Spells gone wrong, too much magic unleashed... plagues coming out of nowhere, curses been thrown, kids disappearing into the night..."

Each catastrophe made you lower your gaze and your head, one hand holding tightly your triple moon pendant for some sort of comfort.

You did not argue with Lilia, because there was not something to argue for. She was right in everything and you hated to admit it, but it was all true.

At night, you would still be haunted by experimental spells you did wrong. Of too much magic, you pulled into a potion or a person and caused more destruction than anything else. You were volatile for years, and only after you learnt not to interfere did you find some peace with your magic.

Agatha was the only one that had never shunned you for your powers, never blamed you when things went astray. On the contrary, she had ways to make you see the other side of the issue; to take you realise that it wasn't always that bad... that it could be fun.

"It's a solitary path, kid," you finally said, your voice heavy as was your heart. "It is not one witches wish to be known for or have in their covens," you lifted your head slowly. "I hesitated to heal you, and if it weren't for Agatha's begging, I wouldn't have interfered. That's not my calling."

Yet despite the grim talking, despite your defeated tone; Teen was not ready to give up. He could still see light within you, still see there was good to be done, and he was determined to help you see it too.

"But you did interfere. You helped me!" He argued, joy and energy still in his dark eyes. "You saved me from death and look." he lifted his shirt again. "You barely left me a scar."

Somehow, despite your best efforts, you could not fight the contagious smile that came from him. Hearing his words, doing his best to cheer you up; it warmed your soul, and you could not remember when someone else had managed to do that.

"You must be the first to say that," you commented.

Surprisingly, Alice chose to join; having been quiet for far too long. "He is right, you know. You saved him, and I saw how you fought that curse when it touched you. Whatever magic you wield, I am glad it is on our side."

"Speaking of curses," Jen interfered. "How is it that you can push away and protect yourself from whatever curse we fought back there and not the poisons from the first trial?"

"Ah," you exclaimed. "Common misconception there. I can protect against evil and darkness but not poisons. They fall into a more... neutral category."

"Well, that must suck."

You could not help but chuckle faintly. "Oh yes. I can go head to head with dark witches, but hemlock can end me in a day."

"So, Y/N," Teen called you out, using your name. "Do you have any cool scars?"

It was then you realised everyone had talked about their scars, some from bigger adventures and some from minor ones. You have been the only one that had yet to confess a part of their past, and frankly, you were not sure how willing you were.

Yet as you stared into their eyes and you remembered how Alice and Teen were welcoming your magic, how even Jen seemed to see you differently; you could not help but feel as if you truly were part of a coven.

A feeling foreign to you but nonetheless welcomed.

"I do, a few," you confessed and loosened up your tie more. Once it was not in the way, you managed to remove your shirt halfway and turned to expose your scarred back. "Caught by a group of modern witch hunters, tried to make me confess the whereabouts of a coven close by."

You felt the stares on your scars that decorated your back and quickly chose to hide them by fixing your shirt; feeling uncomfortable with people staring at them for too long.

Unbeknown to you, Agatha had happened to approach while you were talking and got a good look of the scars you did not have the last time you two reunited.

She remained quiet, watching from the shadows with a dark expression on her face; one that the world had not seen in a very long time.

At the same time, you chose to cover yourself and sit down; looking at the group. Their gazes were mixed, some showing more concern and sympathy and others; pure fury.

"Witch hunters," Lilia scoffed, one fist holding the material of her pants tightly. "One of the worst things mankind had created."

You could not help but nod. "And somehow they made it to the modern era as well."

"They are lucky they haven't met me," she commented. "I still remember the last pair that made me flee a comfy village I had chosen to settle down."

"Thought witch hunters were a myth," Teen argued, looking at Lilia. "I mean, with movies and all those things you hate."

The older woman tried not to get offended. It was not her fault the media represented witches that badly. "Not this kind, kid. Those in the movies are nothing compared to the real deal."

Jen nodded her head. "They are cruel men, taught to recognise spells, and somehow always manage to track down where witches live," she explained, being alive longer than him and Alice; made her little more knowledgeable on the subject.

"And they go hard-core once they find one. Try to draw a confession out of her, secrets and whereabouts of covens, " you added. "In the past, they targeted innocent women who under the pressure of torture confessed to being witches; when they had no magic within them."

The boy seemed horrified at this new piece of information. "This is horrible!"

"This was a witch's life," a new voice added, making everyone spot Agatha leaning on a tree. "Humanity was never accepting of anything different and always went to the extreme to see it gone."

Murmurs of agreement echoed between Lilia, Jen, and you; the eldest in the group. They had seen the rise and almost impending fall of witchcraft, some earlier than others little later.

But they all had been prosecuted one way or another for their craft... and their choice in lovers.

Chapter 21

[lamoureg]

listen i love arcane s2 just as much as the next arcane fan but i'm also a strong believer that i would've enjoyed it alot More if it touched more on the piltover/zaun conflict instead of magic

[briarlovesclara]

WHAT DO YOU MEAN ALEXIS THE MISMAG 1 DRAGON IS AN INTERDIMENSIONAL VERSION OF KALVAXUS FROM FANTASY HIGH 1???

[anxiousapplepie]

so humans and rose knights are separate species? besides color, what differences do they have, biologically and/or culturally? do they commonly interact or is this a "secret world" situation where lapis is an exception? is one race more common than the other?

*INHALE* Okay those are good questions! Lemme see if I can articulate the vibes in my head! Humans and Roses are separate species! Biologically, the Roses (and Dragons) are made of planty stuff, and magic is what helps them appear 'human-like' with skin and hair. If you cut them, they'd bleed sap or something that nobody would mistake for blood. Roses also have a much longer lifespan than humans- around 200-300 years is when a rose will wither and die beyond regeneration. Maybe sooner, if rot or battle fatigue wears you down faster than expected. The Roses are part of an "other world", technically secret, but humans and roses have both visited each other's worlds sometimes. For story's sake tho, Lapis thinks she's the exception. The most common race in the RK world are the Roses! And even if the Dragons have been slaughtering them a lot in battle, the roses still outnumber every other race by a lot (except Spiders, but that's a different equation) I wanna keep some secrets, but I hope these tidbits gave you something to chew on! Thank you for letting me nerd out like this! <3

[llitchilitchi]

hybrids and fantasy races are fun and all that but there is something incredibly potent about the characters who caused some of the vilest things that happened on the server (c!schlatt, c!q, c!wilbur, c!dream...) being plain human

[arrozconlecheeee]

Ivan is a dhampir(half vampire) who loves making porcelain dolls and animating them:^) he used to live in the Black Forest of southwest Germany before relocating to rural england

[dovewingkinnie]

the urge to make an askblog for that one oc story that has 0 plot and things just happen because funny