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thana-topsy · 10 months

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Idk if you've discussed this before, but I saw on one of the asks you like to think about the magical side of things in TES, so was wondering: in your headcanon, which of the schools of magic are probably the most challenging to use and master?

Anon, I just need you to know that this ask sent me into an absolute fit of inspiration writing an entire treatise on this topic from Neloth's point of view, but judging by the amount of unfinished WIPs I'm working with at the moment, I didn't want to leave you (or this question) hanging for months.

I think the most challenging schools are the ones that require the greatest force of will, namely Alteration and Illusion, both of which require you to impose your will on the world around you.

With Illusion, you're manipulating the minds of others. I think @dirty-bosmer had a great passage exploring this from this post of her writing: "Sylawen flushed but rolled her eyes, then shut them. Illusion. She hated Illusion. She wished she could tell him illusion was for the weak, a field of mind games and emotions, just alteration without the grounding laws of physics. Alteration for people who were bad at math. Illusion required Sylawen to be too close to others' emotions, and though she hated to admit it, sometimes she simply didn't understand how other people were supposed to feel."

I IMMEDIATELY adopted that into my headcanons: Illusion is a school that requires you to have a tremendous amount of intuitive empathy to use effectively, which has so many twisted and interesting implications. A master of Illusion, then, might use it very sparingly.

With Alteration, you're directly impacting the world around you but still bound by the laws of the natural world -- creating shields, opening locks, transmuting metals, producing light (I don't care what Skyrim says, light spells are NOT Illusion?? make it make sense). But then there's the school of Thaumaturgy. (This classification was phased out by the time Skyrim came around, and then picked back up in ESO). I like having this distinction from Alteration. Thaumaturgy deals in changing the laws of reality, if only for a brief period of time -- breathing water, levitation, water walking, etc. I think this requires some of the highest skill to master. (I also feel like invisibility should fall under this school, but there's an argument to be made that you could use both concepts to reach the same end goal).

For a truly spectacular take on Alteration (without me splitting hairs about spell classification), I might suggest reading the beginning of chapter 93 (an excellent occult number) of @chameleonspell's Morrowind masterpiece "How to Disappear Completely", which forever altered the way I both view TES fanfic AND how I think about magic in Tamriel.

I'm going to leave my Mysticism rant for another day, because fwew I'll get lost in my own meta and this post is long enough. Thank you so much for asking!! As I said... I do love to talk magic.

#topsy's asks #elder scrolls #tes lore #elder scrolls lore #tes magical theory #tes headcanons #tes fanfic

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tnbc-thoughtsandheadcanons · 24 days

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Disney Magic Kingdoms giving me more headcanons here, but - I *love* the idea of ‘Halloween gifts’! What if that's how Halloween Town gave each other presents before Christmas? They’d traditionally give each other gifts on Halloween....

#the nightmare before christmas #disney magic kingdoms #sally skellington #halloween town #tnbc #nightmare before christmas #tim burton #henry selick #headcanons #theories #jack skellington #jack x sally #jack and sally #dr finkelstein #dr finklestein

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kicktwine · 2 months

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my theory that there are no more habitable stars within millennia of ours is making these quests slightly more bleak,

#play game #endwalker spoilers #just a theory. But I think the meteia destroyed them all #they have had more or less TWELVE THOUSAND YEARS to do it mind you #which kind of plays into my funny headcanons bc that’s barely enough time for widespread evolution (just variation on basic levels)#but I think that in the first ages that we don’t know much about they were a) much longer than the later ages and b) all of that creation #magic was still floating around trying to do stuff before it settled #so people were VERY quickly developing and abandoning traits just by. desiring them #quickly as in a few generations at a time #it calmed around the first astral era; wherein gods became men and creation magics more or less vanished

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pinkestmenace · 6 months

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Thoughts on Dark Meta Knight

A continuation of 'Thoughts on Shadow Kirby'. This is a long one!

TL;DR: I first talk about his relation to Taranza and Sectonia, then comes the fic I 'accidentally' wrote, then I talk about his (mirror) abilities and relation to Meta Knight (or rather, his inherited memories.)

Have you ever noticed how whenever people talk about the whole Dark Meta Knight/Dimension Mirror/Taranza/Corrupted Sectonia issue, it's always "Taranza must hate DMK so much!" and never "DMK must hate Taranza so much!" or even "Why did Joronia/Sectonia keep a magical mirror that clearly oozed bad vibes?" (Note: I'm neither saying Taranza is a poor uwu boy who did nothing wrong nor that he is evil incarnate. He didn't know DMK was in there nor that the mirror had lingering corruption. I am however saying he was a fool for stealing an important magical artifact! All three were hurt here.) I mean, come on. Sectonia is an individual with agency. You're telling me she just placidly accepted this whole situation and only gets to serve as an "Evil queen needs to die!" and "Woe is Taranza, his beloved is dead!" plot device? She could have been corrupted/replaced by her own reflection! Maybe she was as interested in studying DMK/this weird danger orb in 'her' mirror as he was in corrupting her.

That is, if he did corrupt her. Who's to say he wanted that? Or had the ability to, other than by speaking? We've heard nothing about him having corrupting magic. Besides, what would he gain from it? Sectonia could've already been somewhat unhinged before she got the mirror and this was just the beginning of a domino effect. Remember, the mirror you fight him in in Triple Deluxe seems to be the one that was in the middle of the Central Circle, not the entrance of the Mirror World. That's the one Dark Mind was hiding out in and judging by how destroyed it still looks inside it's also the most likely place for any corruption to linger. (Luckily for the other inhabitants, I'd say. Not so lucky for him or poor Shadow, who in DMK's absence was likely left alone to defend the Mirror World and therefore grew more agressive like we see him in other games. He had no allies and no choice but to learn to fight.) I think that Shadow spawned when Kirby first entered the mirror, but DMK was likely around at least a little longer than that, judging by how he seems to have a pretty good grasp on his abilities already.

So. Since Triple Deluxe is clearly inspired by fairy tales, (Consider the Dreamstalk/beanstalk, a palace in the sky and a wicked beauty-obsessed queen with a literal magic mirror!) why not spin a little tale of our own?

I want you to imagine being Dark Meta Knight for a moment.

Mirror, Mirror, From the Sky — Who's the Wickedest and Why?

Once upon a time a dark force secretly infested your world. Depending on how long you've been around, you either spawned as a flawed clone, or you got to feel yourself being corrupted. You may not even know who you are, other than what the wisps of your inherited memories and skills tell you. Either way, the heydays of good fortune, friends and fair weather are nothing but a burning memory to you.

Dark Mind, the force calls itself and it takes an interest in you, since it could use a strong henchman. Now you have this flaming eyeball breathing down your neck, playing at being your master and ordering you around. Tsch. Do you dance like a pathetic little puppet? Do you plead with it using the fancy words you find on your tongue, but did not learn yourself? Do you obey to save your own skin, or resist and risk having your mind broken and hollowed out further? Do you have it in you to become a double agent? You are a scared toddler who only just learned how to walk. You are a hardened knight who has no patience for this. The armour you wear shows traces of battles you haven't fought. You cling to it in preparation for what's to come.

It sends you to go remove some obstacles. A pink child and your own doppelganger. Fueled by bitter resentment and childish petulance you dare to bend your orders just slightly. Rather than rend the child into pieces, you refract him into four. Rather than sending your doppelganger back to his maker, you lock him in with yours and break the mirror to prevent his escape. (As well as Dark Mind's escape, that is.) Your master is angry. That's fine. You're already wrong and broken and don't give a crap.

Eventually the child and his refractions fix and enter the mirror and your master gives you an ultimatum. Twice it told you to get rid of the brat and twice you have failed! Now, to prove your loyalty you must put your life on the line. Beat the brat. At any cost. Surrender is not an option! You shed the veneer and take out your frustration on the child. But he's too strong. You can feel your body give out! You remember how to beg. "Master, please, I can't take any more!" It's no use. Its fiery gaze scorches you, it widens the cracks in your mind and forces you to continue, miserable marionette that you are.

You shatter and your consciousness fractures. Where did you go so wrong? Why did this have to happen to you? What will become of that strange charcoal child you saw stalking you? You want to go home. That home isn't yours. What does your counterpart think? Like the allegory of the prisoners and the shadows on the cave wall you don't know more than what little you can infer. His flickering gaze is unreadable. There is no cave. You are the shadow. You have no idea what philosophy is.

??? days later you somehow wake up. You get your bearings. You're still in this ruined miniature dimension, but your master is gone. You're alone. Tsch. Figures the brat and your blue bastard of a counterpart would abandon you. What's wrong with them?! (What's wrong with you? Are you really that disposable? Maybe they didn't know you still had life left in you either. Did they mourn for you?) At least the mirror portal is right there. You'll go back to the Central Circle, find something to eat and then you'll plot your revenge against the world that failed to welcome you! You just have to step out...

...into a large bedroom. You look around. Fancy furnishings that would befit a palace. A breathtaking view of the rising sun, which drapes the room in purples and oranges. It hurts your eyes. You look down. A vanity? Where the Shards—

You don't get time to think before a piercing shriek rends the air. You look to your left and see a strange spider-like creature charging at you, wielding twin rapiers! You quickly leap out of the way and draw your own sword.

The woman stops in front of you, clad in a simple but refined silk nightgown, her four unoccupied hands balled into tight fists. She stares you down with her four front eyes. Is this spider as afraid of you as you are of her? She's Princess Joronia, you soon learn. She received the mirror as a gift.

She sympathises with you and offers you a cup of herbal tea to calm your nerves. You've never had tea, (not-you remembers the taste) but by the Mirror's mercy do you know you're thirsty! You accept it, if only to buy yourself time to figure out what's going on and come up with a way to escape with the mirror. The tea soothes you, although it has a strange aftertaste and Joronia's smile is gentle, if a bit too practised. Her gleaming upper eyes gaze patiently into yours. She doesn't drink. You're tired, so tired.

The next day you wake up inside the mirror and try to leave again. Joronia didn't seem so bad. Maybe you can convince her to let you return the mirror! You find it's been magically sealed.

"Oh, don't worry," says 'Joronia' through the glass, her eyes and smile just a little darker and haughtier than they were yesterday, "it's only a safety precaution until we get to know each other better." But months later she still hasn't let you leave with the mirror. Instead, she's been staring into it more and more, fussing endlessly over her make-up and increasingly ostentatious outfits. She laments to you as if you are nothing but a pet she can vent to freely. "Uhuhuhu~! Didn't I look simply unacceptable before? I just couldn't stand my dull reflection. Tell me how gorgeous I am! Then I might even feel generous enough to feed you."

You grow bitter. How trapped you are! Behind you is the ruined hellscape where you were broken and humiliated. In front of you is an increasingly deranged self-obsessed woman who you're forced to ingratiate yourself to for scraps. Tsch! You are caged and seething! The day you find the person who subjected you to this your sword will taste blood! Soon your vibe arsenic joins the maddening sulfuric stench that abhorrent eyeball left behind. Your mind and the mirror grow ever darker in a vicious cycle. It's been years. You yearn for sights you have only seen in dreams. You cannot die.

The reborn and remade Queen Sectonia doesn't care. She's too busy solidifying her power and enhancing her own grotesque beauty to pay attention to the machinations of naughty little strays. Your sharpened tongue pleases her just enough to spare you and coax out news of the outside world. You are her obedient pet. The keeper of her innermost secrets. More loyal than her advisor. You hone yourself and your blade when she's not looking.

So when Sectonia dies and the seal goes with her, you are ready. You don't care who's on the other side. You. Only. Want. REVENGE.

* * * * *

Headcanon time!

I see DMK as leaning into using his mirror abilities, not so much because he wants to prove himself superior to Meta Knight, but because that's something only HE can do. Something he 'earned', not inherited. He wants to be the best at something without needing help.

When he spawned he already knew how to speak, move and wield his sword. Or rather, the second he attempted to do any of these things he 'remembered' how to do them.

Wouldn't it be funny and tragic if so much of his life consists of discovering skills he didn't know he had, that belong to someone who isn't quite him? What surprises will his memory give him today? Amnesiac roulette.

Imagine: he's just idly fidgeting with a sheet of paper and looks down to see he's accidentally folded a perfect little origami crane. He crushes the crane. Tsch. Another skill he didn't earn! (Later he secretly learns to fold something Meta Knight hasn't folded before, just so he can say he made the skill his own. He will deny this.)

He didn't know he had the ability to mend his cape. Yet when he found needle and thread his hands traced the movements with practised ease. He refuses to mend his cape and claims it fits his rough-and-tough aesthetic. (He collects scraps and quilts a cozy blanket for his hideout. He claims to have found it in the trash.)

He comes across a book in a language he has never seen before. He can read it! The contents make little sense to him. He tries writing, but discovers his handedness is opposite to Meta Knight's. Ink smudges his left glove as he adjusts. (It shouldn't matter. He's ambidextrous! Try as he might, he still cannot draw or write with his right hand.)

Infodump about memory function incoming! (TL;DR: there are several types of memories, some about life events, some about sensations or skills.) I hope I can explain this correctly using an example.

Imagine you're going for a stroll in the park. You don't have to think consciously about every movement you make because you already know how to walk. You decide where to go and your brain handles the details automatically. (Procedural memory. This is what let him immediately move and fight.)

You spot someone walking a dog. Your brain goes: "Dog!!!" You don't have to analyse every feature of the animal to know this because the holistic concept of "Dog" in your brain immediately lights up and couples it to the language part of you to remember the correct name. (Semantic memory. This let him recognise the world and understand speech.)

You consider petting it. Your hand experiences the ghost of fur underneath. It just stopped raining, so your nose anticipates the wet dog smell as well. (Sensory memory. He gets whiffs of sensations and tastes he hasn't experienced himself.)

You approach the dog. Suddenly you realise you've seen this dog before! It was last week and when you pet it wrong it snapped at you. You remembered a specific event. (Episodic memory. He didn't get this one and therefore doesn't remember Meta Knight's life. He has to puzzle out what his 'original' is like from the other remembered scraps he got.)

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babymagi · 5 months

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But I'm in the trees, I'm in the breeze

My footsteps on the ground

You'll see my face in every place

But you can't catch me now

#so i watched the ballad of songbirds and snakes recently #and had 'cant catch me now' on repeat while drawing #and i have many a headcanon/theory about sheba and how this is HER song #i may explode #magi #magi labyrinth of magic #magi kingdom of magic #magi fanart #fanart #babymagi's fanart arc #digital art #sheba jehoahaz abraham #sheba magi #sheba jehoahaz abraham fanart #sheba magi fanart

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jeweled-blue-eyes · 6 months

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crack theory/ headcanon: Jennette is partly a plant

I was rereading chapter 10 and was asking myself: why would Athy want to pluck the flower that badly, that she would lean over the boat edge and risk falling into the lake, when a few seconds ago she was so scared that her father would push her into the lake and leave her to drown? Why would she do something reckless that could give him any ideas? Why let down her guard and give him an opening? Back then Athy viewed Claude as a ticking timebomb and was still in survival mode. Getting distracted and endangering herself for a flower was unthinkable.

And that's when inspiration struck me: what if the "Lotus" flower functions just like Jennette does? Claude called it a mana eating plant. What if it feeds on human mana and it has taken on a beautiful appearance to catch its prey? Athy looks at the blue lotus in wonder and then, upon closer inspection, notices that it's not blue at all. It only seems that way to onlookers, because it reflects its surroundings. The flower itself has no color. Which reminds me of Jennette who has the Imperial blue jewel eyes, except no she has not. She is a construct of black magic and only appears to have the jewel eyes. Her eyes, just like her breathtaking beauty, are nothing but an illusion.

When Athy thinks "I want one." her eyes are dim and it doesn't look like she is being quite herself. The desire to possess the blue flower doesn't seem to come from her own mind, it's as if something else is possessing her and influencing her to think these things.

Furthermore the existence of the carnivorous flower has always been a headscratcher for me. Who planted it into the lake and for what reasons? I mean the plant has to live off something! Targeting Athy who was like a black hole of mana implies that the plant couldn't have been possibly satisfied by small animals alone. Who was sacrificed in the lake, so that the plant could keep on living? What use did the plant have that would make the sacrifice worth it? Claude couldn't have been the one. It's just not his style. That means the plant must have been a remnant of Anastacius' reign. It makes sense doesn't it? Anastacius was interested in ways how to steal, store and augment mana. Before he tested his theory on humans, he could have first observed animals and plants. The flower might have been his first creation, his first Jennette prototype, or it might have been an instrument or ingredient he used on Penelope so she could give birth to his miracle baby.

#wmmap #who made me a princess #sbapod #suddenly became a princess one day #jennette margarita #headcanons #jennette is a construct made of black magic theory

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wishing-stones · 6 months

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Baggs Z: A taste of one's own medicine >:3c

Z. [Make up your own] A taste of one's own medicine >:3c

This was a challenge to figure out how to pull off but, well...

There's always a bigger fish, buddy.

He did not like the way that Nightmare was looking at him. That half-lidded, almost coy appraisal made his hackles raise, although he did his level best to ignore it and continue his work.

"I've been pondering how your magic works," Nightmare drew Baggs' attention back to himself the instant it forcibly left.

"I've no doubt you have," Baggs returned airily, focusing on his work rather than the uneasy feeling that his benefactor's attention presently inflicted.

"How does a human trait bond with monster magic in order to create an entirely new type? If we consider how perseverance affects the soul normally, it creates the ability to restrict movement to only a few avenues. With the holding ability of patience, to force damage unless one is completely still, it makes a certain amount of poetic sense. Restricted and forced to remain still or suffer the consequences."

He feigned disinterest, but Baggs was actively listening. He'd thought about this a number of times and come to the same conclusion Nightmare was approaching; the latent patience in his system attached to the foreign perseverence and crafted a new magic that utilized traits from both. The stillness of patience and the rigidity of perseverance literally swirled together to create his unique brand of magic. Since both traits affected the soul and its movement, it was little wonder it leeched into affecting the mind as well.

"Not to mention the almost Determination-level of focus it grants-- it's more than evident in the way that yours is more pink than purple. It dances a fine edge that I'm sure very few can escape."

"If you are getting at something, sir, it would behoove you to get to it rather than waste my time." There were rare occasions Baggs felt comfortable in pushing his boundaries with Nightmare. This was one of them. Nightmare was actively distracting the doctor from his work, and Baggs was already irritated and verging on overtired again. When Nightmare had initially shown up, he'd assumed it was to herd him to bed... but no. The Guardian of Negativity had simply stayed and watched. Baggs thought he might, perhaps, be watching his work for a while, until he saw how frequently Nightmare was watching him specifically.

"Oh my, we are getting cranky, aren't we?" Nightmare cooed in a voice thick with amusement, "I've a point, doctor, but it bears explanation."

Baggs leveled his best unimpressed, expectant stare at Nightmare, who only smiled serenely at his underling.

"And that explanation is...?" Baggs prompted, sitting down at his desk to transcribe his notes for the evening.

(He subtly checked the access records to make sure that no one had come snooping while he wasn't here and is relieved to see he has nothing to worry about today.)

"I believe I've broken down the specific way your magic resonates." Nightmare took up a seat near his desk, "As everyone's magic passes on their own unique wavelength, yours, likely by nature of perseverance, acclimates quickly to an individual's unique magical wavelength. It's how you can seize control-- you work instantly on the same individual wavelength... or more accurately, your magic attunes everyone else to yours. I have seen how you can command an entire room at once. Each soul in that room attunes to you."

Baggs paused and steepled his fingers.

"Those more in control of their magic and more attuned to their souls have more capability to resist that call." He hummed, "And the presence of Determination makes it easier to maintain one's own unique magical resonance. Interesting hypothesis."

"Indeed." Nightmare nodded sagely, smile still eerily composed, "And any good hypothesis should be tested to ensure its validity, wouldn't you agree?"

Baggs eyed him out of the corner of his socket.

"What are you getting at?" He said slowly, not entirely certain he liked the tone Nightmare took up.

"I've a very fine control over my magic, doctor Baggs." Nightmare stood, and Baggs shifted back minutely, "So much so that I can control the resonance of my soul consciously. It makes cloaking my presence to those who know it very easy. It is how my brother oft times does not know something it transpiring in another world until it is too late."

He was putting on theatrics. Baggs resisted the urge to roll his eyelights and elected not to comment. Best to let Nightmare get it out of his system.

"I've a theory that my control is even fine enough to force other souls onto the same resonance."

"Like my magic does, in theory."

"Yes, precisely."

Baggs screws up his mouth.

"You want to test this theory."

"I do."

There is a very heavy silence that follows, and Baggs finally breaks it after a moment with a callous snort and toss of his head.

"Go bother Killer with it."

"Oh, but doctor, where is the fun in that?"

Baggs did not like where this was going. He slowly pushed himself back from his desk to face Nightmare, scowling.

"No."

"What a pity, I'd assumed an academic like yourself would have welcomed the opportunity for hands-on research regarding your very unique ability, and to understand how it works better." Nightmare idly inspected his phalanges, "...Aside from the fact that I wasn't really asking."

Baggs was very suddenly no longer sitting in his chair-- he was struggling against tentacles, kicking his legs fruitlessly and squirming to no avail.

"Unhand me!" He barked, and Nightmare only chuckled.

"What ever is the matter, doctor? You trust me, do you not?"

He was beginning to rethink that stance.

"Besides, I would never do anything to hurt you. That much you can be completely assured of."

Baggs quick kicking his feet and frowned.

"Beyond all of that, it is high time that you cease your work for the evening."

He glanced sideways at his computer screen, squinting faintly at it. He'd saved... and if the computer just went to sleep it would require a password to get back into.

Something... something strange squirmed against his soul, and Baggs recoiled with a bark of indignation. He tried fruitlessly to get free again, but the more he struggled, the more it felt like something was trying to work its way in.

A heavy feeling settled on his shoulders, and he struggled against it, shaking his head fitfully.

It did nothing. The feeling of something working its way past his defenses, to the very innermost parts of his mind and soul was pervasive... But at the same time, strangely... not unwelcome?

Was this truly what it was like?

Struggling grew more and more difficult as his limbs began to respond more slowly. His head felt heavy, difficult to keep aloft, and when it tipped to the side, it was righted with a tentacle.

While Nightmare's eyelight didn't swirl and pulse like his own, it did seem very difficult to look away from. It held an unearthly, beguiling light that seemed to leak into the farthest reaches of his mind and quiet the relentless buzzing of his thoughts.

...It felt kind of nice to not think for a bit.

Nightmare chuckled softly. Baggs tried to return some witticism about his self-satisfaction, but nothing came but a weak, feeble moan that tailed higher at the end in almost a questioning manner.

"Hm. That hypothesis seems rather firmly proven correct." Nightmare observed airily, "And an interesting new utilization of my own magic. Really, I ought to thank you. Had we not met, I doubt that I would have thought to try this."

The words sunk heavily into Baggs' mind, followed by the feeling of both amusement and genuine gratitude. Nightmare might be having fun toying around with him, but he was, at the very least, truly thankful for the insight.

Still, it was getting harder and harder to keep his sockets open. This was not an unfamiliar feeling-- He was quite used to the sensation of Nightmare forcing his unruly magic into submission so that he could sleep. It was slightly different now, though. His magic did not try to retaliate. It complied easily-- almost as easily as Nightmare himself carried Baggs away from his lab and to his quarters.

He tried again to vocalize the faintest flicker of a thought, but it was snuffed out, and the words came out as a quiet, nonsensical mumble. The flash of unease that accompanied the realization that his acute mind was succumbing to numbness lasted only a moment before he was hushed-- hushed in the same way he so often hushed his own patients-- and then all was quiet.

"There, now. Nothing to fret yourself over." Nightmare's voice was a low, sweet lull, and Baggs finally lost the fight with his sockets, letting them fall closed with little resistance. The gentle sway of Nightmare's gait was pacifying as well, and he teetered on the edge of consciousness, only rousing slightly when he felt the softness of his mattress beneath him. He tried to stir out of it, but felt a tentacle smooth almost soothingly over the top of his skull.

"Sleep now, doctor. We will discuss this come the morrow."

#k answers #k headcanons #fic nonsense #minific asks #feat. baggs #feat. nightmare #shoe's on the other foot now buddy #featuring a shit ton of headcanons and speculation and pseudo magic theory

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