talk street magic to me
drawing power from the metro lines
illusionists busking illegally, shimmering lights disintegrating as they run
plant mages tending tiny rooftop and windowbox gardens
elementary school kids learning basic sigils on the playground
wixen taking a while to key into the magic in new cities when they move
alchemists dealing on the side to support their experiments
middle schoolers making friendship talismans and amulets for everyone
numerologists who’ll do your math homework for $5 or divine your fortune for $10
kids mass-texting luck and speed spells when their parties get broken up by the cops
Hell yeah, let’s talk about magic.
Like elementary kids learning silly (or inappropriate) charms from each other on the bus, the same way we learned our first swear words. Clapping games across the bus aisle, but with spells instead of rhymes.
Worrying that your friend is getting into dark magic, but not knowing how to talk to them about it. Intervention programs for kids abusing hexes and runes, because magic has given them control over something for once in their life, and they’re starting to make some dangerous choices.
Psychic teachers knowing when you’re cheating. Knowing when you’re having trouble with homework. Or at home. Knowing when you need tutoring or an AP course because you’re just not being challenged or a different teaching method because you can’t process what you’re learning in class no matter how hard you try, and the teacher tells you it’s okay, they know. They know.
Magic graffiti. Graffiti in wild places, and graffiti that vanishes when certain people roll by like the police. Or graffiti that only appears when the police walk by to insult them. Murals. Swirling, living murals on the sides of buildings. Murals that—if you listen closely—can be heard, not just seen.
In the evenings, kids hiding out in someone’s backyard or an alley passing around a joint and casting minor illusions to watch while high.
Chalk artists making works that are so realistic, they come to life off of the sidewalk.
One man bands in the park, with instruments floating around playing themselves.
Punk concerts in empty lots with amped out music and lights, but noise-cancelling spells and illusion hide them in plain sight from anyone outside of the lot.
Mediums predicting people in need, and making sure to be there at just the right moment to lend them a helping hand. “You seem upset, do you need to talk?” “Oh, you’re a dollar short? No, don’t put the milk back; I’ll cover you.” “You really ought to try taking your resume to this store. Trust me.”
Necromancers in forensics speaking with the dead to solve homicides and cold cases. Living lie detectors as beat cops and detectives and DEA agents.
Strangely cheap five star food diners that bake actual love into their apple pie, and they always know your dietary restrictions without being told.
Service golems in various sizes and shapes, making sure their magic users aren’t crowded, get medical attention, go where they need to, etc. They don’t get distracted, they can be hollow to hold things like medications, and in rare instances, they seem to develop loving attachment to their users despite not being alive.
Little old landladies who dabble in witchcraft brewing homeopathic remedies for people in their apartment complex.
Street magic is an amazing concept.
Your voice sounds completely different in different languages. It alters your personality somehow. I don’t think people get the same feeling from you. The rhythm changes. Because the rhythm of the language is different, it changes your inner rhythm and that changes how you process everything.
When I hear myself speak French, I look at myself differently. Certain aspects will feel closer to the way I feel or the way I am and others won’t. I like that—to tour different sides of yourself. I often find when looking at people who are comfortable in many languages, they’re more comfortable talking about emotional stuff in a certain language or political stuff in another and that’s really interesting, how people relate to those languages.
i don’t know why everyone makes the grim reaper out to be a bad guy i mean he’s just taking to you to the afterlife it’s not like he killed you it’s actually quite nice of him to walk you there imagine if you had to go alone
ya hes cute…….but is he conscientious of the social inequalities and corruption in hierarchies of power that plague this world
Tragic past doesn’t mean = actions justified
Tragic past means = explanation behind acts.
a vital distinction that many writers and readers/viewers/players miss
Don’t take anyone’s writing advice too seriously.
This is actually pretty frickin’ incredible. I love you, NASA.
INFJ: Visions of the future
ESTP: Superhuman strength
ESFP: Ability to freeze time
INFP: Literary manipulation
ESTJ: Power negation
ESFJ: Healing powers
ISFJ: Visions of the past
ENTP: Dimensional travel
ISTJ: Photographic memory
ENFP: Reality warping
ISFP: Shape shifting
ENTJ: Mind control
ENFJ: Empathic powers