#project magic

[limeusdelime]

Inky (Final + many sketches/doodles + humanised ver)

[thisisasupergoodidea]

*stumbles out of a dark room covered in blood*

started working on my book again

[thisisasupergoodidea]

i wanted to practice drawing a person (since i usually just stick to little monsters) and for my subject i chose my OC, magic guy AKA Emil

im pretty proud of myself for this one haha

[thisisasupergoodidea]

Whumptober Day 1:

Adverse effects

—

Emil is seething in a jealous mire for reasons he will not scrutinize.

He spends his afternoon messing around in his test chamber, grinding this and that into fine powder and throwing ingredients into the cauldron in no precise quantities. He’s honestly just kind of going through the motions of productivity today. The only reason he stops when he does is because he runs out of things to pulverize.

Peering at the contents of the cauldron, he doesn’t really know what he’s looking at. It’s a dark, ugly green, with a pungent and peppery aroma that threatens to burn the hairs of his nostrils. His face scrunches in disgust. What in the world was he thinking when he made this?? It can’t possibly be a good idea to imbibe any amount of it.

He’s going to, though. For science.

Once he is certain that the cooking process is not making it any better, Emil stops stirring and taps his spoon-wand once, twice, three times on the cauldron’s rim, signifying the finalization of this particularly foul potion. He kills the flames, removes the pot carefully from the heat, doles out a drinkable portion into a little bowl, and sits by the window while he waits for it to cool.

It… doesn’t. He waits a bit longer. Steam continues to waft and curl from the sample; what’s more, even the bowl is still quite hot to the touch.

Interesting.

Well, there’s only one thing left to do. Before he can second-guess himself, he snatches up the bowl and brings it to his lips. He has to hold his breath to keep from gagging, as the smell of it has only gotten worse. It slides down his throat and sticks to his teeth like slime.

And burns.

A shock of pain erupts on his tongue, races down the entire length of his esophagus, beats at the lining of his stomach. The bowl in his hands clatters to the ground, the skin of his palms turning redder and warmer as he clutches at his throat. Noxious steam billows out of his mouth with every heaving, panicked breath.

Emil wasn’t yet unfortunate enough to have been set aflame at any point in his life, but he can’t imagine that being much different to this. It feels very much like being cooked from within. His stomach churns and contracts and threatens an upheaval- but the potential of it burning doubly as it comes back up scares him much more than the damage he sustains by keeping it in. Shivering and sweaty, he throws open the chamber door and lurches down the stairs in search of water.

The water was a terrible idea. He tries to take a single sip and it fucking evaporates partway down his throat, sending him into a coughing fit as it comes back out. It takes all his willpower not to retch just then. He dunks his hands in the water basin and splashes his face, begging for relief; it’s scalding.

Well what the fuck else can he do??

Despite the tender state of his innards, Emil can’t temper the scream that claws its way out of him. He’s at his boiling point, agony and rage and venom igniting his blood. He collapses to the floor a convulsing, aching mess, and doesn’t dare move for a very long time.

Upstairs, steam continues to waft and curl from the foul concoction. The breeze from the window picks it up and carries it harmlessly away, until eventually, all that’s left in the cauldron is a coating of slimy ashen residue.

—

[thisisasupergoodidea]

Project Magic Masterpost

synopsis:

as the beloved protector of his village, rogelio regularly butts heads with a magic guy in a magic tower who is always up to no good. just what is that guy’s problem?? rogelio makes it his mission to find out, and does what he must to keep things peaceful. but… the more he learns, the more he comes to understand that peace might not ever be possible.

=

chapter one: the magic amulet

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 •

=

chapter two: the magic catch

part 15 / part 16 / part 17 / part 18 / part 19 / part 20 / part 21 / part 22 / part 23 / part 24 / part 25 / part 26 / part 27 / part 28 •

=

extras

whumptober 2022:

day 1 / day 2 / day 3 / day 5 / day 8 / day 10 / day 18 / day 20 / day 25 / day 29 /

art:

emil

[thisisasupergoodidea]

the magic catch

part 26

———

“…Is this offer genuine?” the guy asks him warily. “You certainly don’t seem all that convinced, and they’re your own words. Careful not to make a promise more ambitious than yourself.”

Damn, he’s sharp. Rogelio wasn’t expecting an immediate call-out.

“It- It’s real enough. At least until I can come up with a better one. So… is that a ‘yes’?”

“Are you sure this is what you want?”

What a confusing question. Why would he care? Or is this some kind of reverse psychology? Is he trying to trick Rogelio into backing out?

“I don’t know, man. It’s better than the alternative.”

“That’s not really an answer.”

“Well, you haven’t given me an answer either! Why are you dodging the question?”

The guy balks like a spooked deer.

“I’m not,” he says in a petulant tone. “My answer is- that an hour is a pathetic reward.”

“That’s what you were stuck on??” Rogelio scoffs. “Whatever. An hour is the most I’m willing to give you. Because you’re you. Besides, that’s a long time for people who spend it suffering.”

“Hm. I suppose that’s true. Then in the interest of fairness, I’m reducing your reward as well- to just one question.”

“What?? No follow-ups? No, no, no, that makes it too easy for you to cheat me out of an actual answer!”

“In which case, you’ll just thrash me a second time, I presume. Don’t forget that we’re both taking risks with this. Anything can go catastrophically wrong at any moment. Does that change if I swear on my very life to give you a satisfactory answer every time?”

“…It would make me feel a lot better about it,” Rogelio says flatly.

“It’s not my responsibility to make you feel better,” the guy responds in kind.

Rogelio grinds his teeth as he thinks about it. Both of them fall silent, unsure if there’s anything more to say here on the cusp of agreement. But, until a decision has been made, it’s nothing more than a hypothetical. Imaginary promises held together with imaginary trust. He sighs.

“I can live with that. And if I can’t, we’ll just do this again. Are we doing this?”

“So it seems. But you tell me.”

Another deflection. What an awfully cagey attitude, considering he’s the guy who brought up the whole idea in the first place! But he’s apparently determined to make Rogelio be the one to either take it or leave it.

“Okay…? I- I guess we are. We’ve talked plenty; it would be a waste of an afternoon to not go through with it now. So. Yeah.”

Magic guy has a complex tangle of reactions all competing for residence on his face as he nods.

“…Shall we review the new terms one more time, for clarity’s sake?”

“Ah. Good idea.”

“Alright then. Here is what we have established: the old contract and all it entailed is expired. Atop its bones, we build anew…“

He dives right into a highly articulate and excruciatingly detailed summary of everything they’ve discussed up to this point.

One: Each week, they’ll meet…

“…where, exactly?” The guy interrupts himself. “Will it be here again, or…?”

“Or wherever. That’s the kind of thing you figure out as you go, I think.”

“…Sure. We will endeavor to meet somewhere- to be determined spontaneously- every week, to duel for the respective privileges of our choosing.”

Two: Once there’s a clear winner, the loser must honor these privileges. If Rogelio wins, he gets a week of peace and the right to ask magic guy a single question about whatever he wants. If the magic guy wins, he gets an hour to do whatever he wants in Kaluss. Within reason.

“And I get to try to stop you. That part’s non-negotiable.”

“…Naturally. I’m fine with a bit of a challenge, so, I have no qualms with that.”

“Wouldn’t make a difference if you did. Well, that covers everything, doesn’t it?”

“Not quite.”

Three: Enforcement of the rules is up to the two of them. And they can re-negotiate at any time, if necessary.

“I feel it’s wise to set the precedent of not expecting it to last.”

Rogelio’s lips quirk into a half-smile, half-grimace.

“Fair enough.”

“I have one final point to resolve: this new agreement will take effect immediately, is that correct?”

“Huh? I don’t see why it wouldn’t.”

“Perfect. Now we have covered everything.”

The magic guy grins suddenly, the wide, overly cheerful expression frighteningly devoid of the friendliness it’s supposed to evoke. With that as his only warning, he rushes right at Rogelio, changing his grip on his staff to hold it more like a club and swinging it in a wide arc in front of him.

Everything else scatters to the wind as Rogelio’s instincts take over.

———

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[thisisasupergoodidea]

the magic amulet

part 12

———

Despite looking about ready to pass out, magic guy merely waves a hand in the direction of the ramshackle armchairs and then continues to stand there, waiting for Rogelio to move first. All the adrenaline of the fight leaves Rogelio in that moment and he heaves a rib-aching sigh, just tired and confused now. Is this guy really so concerned about being impolite when they literally just got done beating the chaff out of each other?

“Well?” the guy says. “Shall we get this over with so I can lick my wounds and go to sleep?”

“Yeah, just... give me a minute. I wanna talk to my friend first.”

“...Do what you like. I certainly don’t have anywhere else to be.”

He and Rogelio turn away from each other in nearly the same moment, so Rogelio doesn’t witness the deepening grimace on the other’s face or the wincing as he attempts to hobble toward the nearest chair, scooping up his divested weapon along the way. Instead, Rogelio gets distracted by his thoughts buzzing around his head and grounds himself with Dani’s presence.

“I see he hasn’t lightened up any,” Dani remarks, her eyes flickering briefly over to the guy past Rogelio’s shoulder. She hoists up the travel pack and begins rummaging through the contents again.

“Yeah, well, he’s always been a sore loser. Can I get the-“

“Bandages.”

She presses the bandage roll into his hand, then moves to fiddle with a knot on Rogelio’s travel pack.

“Oh. No- I mean, yes, I was gonna ask for this, but first I wanted the-“

“Canteen.”

She shoves his canteen into his other hand. He takes a lengthy, satisfying swig.

“Yesss, thank you,” he sighs.

“You don’t seem to be hurting too badly, at least. Anything sprained or broken?”

“Nah, it’s just a few welts. He’ll definitely need this, though,” Rogelio says, wiggling the bandage roll a little before pocketing it. “So, um, I- would appreciate some ideas for what I should ask him. About his necklace thing. I’m a bit all-over-the-place at the moment, and I really don’t want to waste this opportunity. He seems to be in a rare mood.”

Dani hums in agreement. “An odd mood. I dunno that isolation is doing him any favors...

“Ok, focus up. What you need is focus. Start with physical questions: what is it made out of? What does it do, and why? Then, if you find yourself losing the thread, go back to another physical question to follow a new thread.

“And remember, he’s the one who oughtta do most of the talkin’ anyway. No need to overthink it.”

“Thanks again,” he breathes, relieved to have wrangled his mind back into place. “What d’you suppose I should do if he tells me this thing can- destroy the world, or something?”

“I highly doubt it can do that,” she says, amusement tinging her voice. “But I think you’ll just have to use your best judgment. Go and get your answers first, then you’ll know for sure if your worrying is necessary.”

Rogelio smiles and nods gratefully. Dani always knows what to say when it really counts, same as birds know the weather. She’s his mind when his own refuses to stay in his skull. His eyes seek out the other person in the room: the guy who prides himself on his antagonism and magic tricks. The guy whose lifework thus far has always been to demand outrage whenever he can, pulling it by force from every interaction, every choice. His effect on Rogelio is pretty much the exact opposite; he drains Rogelio’s patience dry, depleting everything in him but the muddy anger at the bottom.

The guy looks up at him expectantly. Unkindly. And Rogelio definitely feels the very edge of rage starting to prickle and fray in him again just through eye contact alone. Worst of all is the guy’s tenacity. No matter how many times Rogelio wallops him into the dirt, he just gets back up and thinks of new, unpredictable ways to be a public nuisance. It’s a genuinely admirable trait to possess. It would be admirable in anyone else.

Rogelio crosses the room in a few long strides and takes a seat across from the magic guy, who has folded himself over to massage the overworked muscles in his legs.

“Here,” he says, curt but not without some sympathy. He places the bandage roll on the rickety low table between them. “In case you sprained anything.”

The guy regards the bandage curiously, suspiciously, for a good ten seconds before snatching it up, giving Rogelio a quiet “...Thank you.” in return.

Rogelio just stares down at his own hands. He allows the guy some time to wrap up his left knee (which he’d scraped when he hit the floor) and right arm (which was looking rather tender from blocking so many of Rogelio’s attacks). When the guy is finished, he sinks back against the armchair with a deep sigh, glancing up at Rogelio for a moment. Then a spark of something alights in his eyes and he gently takes Squee- the squirrel that is sometimes a knife- from his shoulder to politely request that it transform once more.

“This... will be happier with you,” he mumbles as he sets it on the table.

Rogelio loses the ability to speak for a second.

“You’re- Really?? Are you-”

“Yes, I’m sure. It would only try to escape again anyway, the little castoff. Might as well let it go where it will.”

Tentatively, half-waiting for the punchline of some nasty joke to be revealed, Rogelio reaches for the dagger. Nothing happens when he has it in his hands- as has been the case every other time as well. He still can hardly believe it.

“Now do you want your answers or not?”

———

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