this is Salem, a land filled with magic and maladies. It is a place where witches and their elemental familiars gather, a home to legend and
lore that predates time itself. Yet of all the wicked and wonderful stories the past can tell us of, the most magical are the ones yet to happen.
This is Salem - this is the start of your very own journey. Welcome to starfall
Starfall is an animaga witch roleplay set in mostly modern times. Members play as witches in a world plagued by monsters, where the only safe spots are walled cities. Starfall strives to be a character-driven roleplay with expansive lore and a highly interactive plotline. We want to allow members to
create and look back on a magical journey, and mold the site and its plot as their characters grow.
[attr="class","gearcore"] As people steadily began to wake up from the nightmare which seemed to have descended upon the entirety of Sundial, Leviathan was thrown into a frenzy. Dozens of void rings were firing warnings of witches reaching critically low levels of mana, some couldn't be dragged from the nightmare despite all physical and verbal attempts to wake them, and some, tragically, would never have the chance to wake again.
Zeph was one of the ones who couldn't be woken right away.
Spock had been clinging to him all night, almost completely unresponsive. Although she didn't generally speak to anyone who wasn't her bound human, this was an entirely new level. Her eyes were wide and unblinking, while her arms were like clamps around his shoulders. No amount of talking or physical poking could get her to move. The only reaction anyone managed to incite happened when someone had the "bright" idea to pry her arms off of him, which resulted in a bite fierce enough to draw blood, a fresh new stab wound in the arm, and a raw, discordant screech. After that, the rest of the coven decided it was probably best to just let her be.
Although his skin was slick with a cold sweat, the sleeping mechanic was fairly quiet throughout the whole ordeal, with the rare exception of the occasional sound which might be defined as a whimper. His nightmare had stopped being about jump scares and the looming inevitability of death after the first few minutes. The vast amount of time, especially after Erin fell and vanished, was spent entirely alone. That isolation became the root of what made the nightmare frightening, and the best way to incite that fear was to subject the victims to it for a long, long time.
Although it felt like days from Zeph's perception, he was still unconcious for the rest of the night.
There was no warning when his eyes flew open and he inhaled sharply.
Spock quickly placed her hands on his cheeks, patting and stoking them as if to reaffirm that he was safe now. His arms naturally lifted to wrap around her and check that she was, indeed, there. She was. He could feel her. She was real. This was real. "Hey," he croaked, holding her close before his unfocused eyes gazed uncertainly around the rest of the room to try to get his bearings.
there's an old man sitting on the throne that's saying
that i should probably keep my pretty mouth shut
[attr="class","rotation"]
[attr="id","content"]
She awakens as if she was
giving the world her last breath. There is nothing romantic or glamorous to it. Nothing to be written in the pages of history. Panic fills her lungs until her eyes can take in the brightness of the lights that had been turned on, and her fingers wrap around the hardcover she'd been reading just before she fell asleep inside the ship.
A dream. That's what they tell her it all had been. A nightmare, more like. Erin supposes it makes sense. She'd never been one dream often, and had very little experience to compare to what she'd just gone through. Even when she had to deal with that dream thief, she wouldn't have noticed anything if not for that mission.
She's surrounded by familiar faces, faces she'd seen in her dream, faces she thought she'd left behind. Unfamiliar faces are there, too: the faces of higher ranked witches in Leviathan, or of lower ranks perhaps. She pays them no mind. Memories from both the nightmare and the previous night come flooding to her, and in a moment she's struggling to stand up and rush to the other body in that room.
"Zeph," she manages to croak out. But he can't hear her; he's still asleep. The Sleeping Beauty that was more Beast than Beauty in this terrible mismatch of dark fairy tales. She cringes at her thought process. It would probably be months before she even thought of picking up that book on animating fairy tales using enchantment again.
Spock is there, clinging to Zephyr as if he was the last lifesaver on board. In a way, he is. Familiar and witch depend on each other as much as carbon dioxide and oxygen. Right now, though, it's more like Spock is there to offer that last lifesaver to the blonde. "Spock," she tries again, and it takes all of her willpower not to screech. Her conversations with the spider monkey were always, after all, different variations of screaming. Not conversations in the slightest.
Then again, the act of screaming in itself would also have taken all of her willpower, as things stood.
"He'll wake up. He needs to," she says. For Spock or for herself? She doesn't know. She doesn't think it matters. Erin is tempted to shake his body. Had the other witches not already tried, she would very possibly be fighting Spock to wake that idiot up already.
It's hours before he joins her in the realm of reality. Hours she's forced to spend drinking water and eating small snacks and recovering from her almost-death.
When the mediwitch mentions this last one, she points at her sleeping friend, and says, "Tell that to him. Why's he not awake yet?" The tone of her voice, nowhere near as strong and demanding as it would have once been, serves to reinforce the claim that she ought to rest. Still, her point stands.
When the young man she was practically throwing a tantrum over does wake up, Erin is suddenly certain she's going to cry.
"I know the idea was to get drunk, but I never even gave you a glass, for you to be knocked out cold like that."
She's referring to how she was trying to get him to accompany her to a bar for a good portion of the night, but that same meek tone she's been using ever since she woke up makes her teasing sound all kinds of wrong.
[attr="class","gearcore"] The first human he sees is Erin. He's not sure why she's there, and he's trying to mentally step back through the days. The last time he'd seen her was when she fell and turned to dust, but before that... when did that nightmare start..? Zeph looks confused by her joke about drinking. When had they done that? They had been too busy getting chased by evil clones?
But Spock's words begin flowing into his mind, so his questions are answered more quickly than verbal speech could ever hope to achieve.
"How long was I--?"
"All night."
"Just one?"
"It felt longer."
"It felt like days..."
"Not that long."
"Why's Erin here?"
"You were building more Gates, she was trying to get you to go out drinking."
"Right..."
"Connor, you haven't woken up this bad since--"
"The fire nightmares."
"Yeah. I couldn't reach you."
"This was something else... This was..."
The confusion in his eyes flickers as he thinks up more questions and Spock tries to answer them, though the silence after Erin's question lasts a mere two seconds. He gives her an odd look. "... What the fuck was that..?" he asked, looking at her questioningly. Had that been the real Erin in the dream? Did she remember it? And then he realizes they're in the medical ward. Erin's in one of the beds. The confusion in his eyes is suddenly replaced by a burst of panic.
