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.
WHIP, WHIP, Run me like a racehorse; Pull me like a ripcord- break me down and build me up. I wanna be the slip, slip, word upon your lip, lip- Letter that you rip, rip,break medown and build me up. Whatever it takes, 'cause I love the adrenaline in my veins. I do whatever it takes, 'cause I love how it feels when I break the chains. Whatever it takes. You take me to the top I'm ready for whatever it takes- 'cause I love the adrenaline in my veins, I do what it takes.
❞
[The morning after the events of TDN] The nightmare drops abruptly- in what feels like the blink of an eye, the firey-haired Witch slowly comes to terms with his surroundings. The only thought he retains is "This isn't real." and the image of his father's face burns itself into his mind.
The soreness and aches of exertion were now replaced by a hollow feeling of floating. His eyes open expecting to see the gray skies and undead, but the only sight that greets him is the ceiling of his room. His breath, dark and ragged, register on his ears along with the subtle creak of his bed frame as he sits up; pulling the sheets around himself and over his head. Only a portion of his face remains visible.
In near silence, he sits there unmoving for a moment.
But, it isn't long before he moves to wipe the tears from his face. The memory was already beginning to fade. He knew who he'd seen in the nightmare- but, already the face was blurring from his mind.
For what felt like hours, the young witch sits there, still. His familiar materializes at some point and forces its way onto his lap. He contents himself with staring at an empty wall- or rather what would be an empty wall if he could see it.
Boxes stacked from floor to ceiling had been sitting there for days. They belonged to the redhead's future roommate. They'd yet to meet, but given that the parcels had finally stopped, it seemed like any day would be the day that they appeared.
The thought of social interaction, however, was the last thing on his mind right now. Overwhelming emotions still burned in his chest and he felt a fresh batch of tears ready to well up. Already it was probably around noon, but he couldn't find the energy or willpower to get up.
The sheer blinds across the window let in sunlight which focused on a pet bed which currently held two cats: both the picture of healthy well cared for Maine Coons. They were napping in the light, completely unaffected by the hell he'd slept through. It wasn't real- so why couldn't he push it from his mind?
383 WORDS ● Zephyr Hart ● YEAH THIS IS GOOD I GUESS
[attr="class","gearcore"] Most would have thought that, after feeling so isolated and alone, Zephyr would have wanted to be around other people. Part of him did, of course; he enjoyed socializing. However, the whole city had fallen victim to its nightmares, and the spirits of its citizens had been plunged into the dumps. Although Zeph checked on his friends and family in the early morning to make sure they were okay, he didn't intend to spend the rest of the day with their silence.
Instead, he would fill the air with the clanging of metal and bursts of sparks.
Zeph had been trying to consolidate his tools and parts for some time now -- previously, his things had been scattered between the Black Window, the Rothscus home, the Sun Cafe, and an assortment of tram and train maintenance stations. With everything in one place, he'd at least be able to set up a Gate system so he'd be able to get to his stuff no matter where he was.
He'd also be getting a roommate, since the thought of paying full price for a living space which he'd barely be living in seemed unreasonably wasteful. Granted, he didn't know when the guy would be moving in (or, rather, he'd lost the letter and the memory of that information). Maybe it'd be a good idea to make sure the roommate didn't move in just to die last night like so many others.
The tinker showed up at the door with even more boxes, putting them down only to fiddle with the lock and open the door. In a show of minimal effort, he shoved the objects the rest of the way inside with his feet, causing the objects to clank and clatter with every kick. Spock was hooked comfortably around his neck, having become even more clingy than usual since the ordeal. "Honey, I'm--" Zeph began to announce his presence just in case the new roommate was there, but quickly noticed that the mystery man was there and had terribly distinctive and familiar hair. The blonde's eyes widened at the sight of the stranger, whom he'd met only once before in a nightmare.
"Oh you've gotta be shittin' me..."
Rafik Bousa'id i apologize for the rushed morning post ;u;
Post by Rafik Bousa'id on Jul 13, 2017 5:00:28 GMT
❝
WHIP, WHIP, Run me like a racehorse; Pull me like a ripcord- break me down and build me up. I wanna be the slip, slip, word upon your lip, lip- Letter that you rip, rip,break medown and build me up. Whatever it takes, 'cause I love the adrenaline in my veins. I do whatever it takes, 'cause I love how it feels when I break the chains. Whatever it takes. You take me to the top I'm ready for whatever it takes- 'cause I love the adrenaline in my veins, I do what it takes.
❞
The sound of a key in the lock stirred him from his half-stupor. He looked up towards the door, still a sad blanket burrito- his eyes red and irritated. But what followed wasn't what he expected in the least. As the door flung open and he tried to focus his vision on the blonde in the door, his familiar stood up out of his arms. Stepping towards the edge of the bed and narrowing its eyes at the stranger.
"Oh, you've gotta be shittin' me..."
The voice was certainly familiar but he couldn't place it. He shrugged off the sheet and stood up on his bed before extending an open palm towards his familiar. "Glasses, please." He said quietly and waited for his other half to bring them.
"I'm sorry, did I do something wrong?" He wiped at his face and then blinked vacantly at the blurry figure that stood in the doorway. Why was that voice so familiar?
"Have we met?" There weren't too many people he had spoken too long enough to leave an impression, so maybe they didn't like cats? "If it's the cats, Sappho and Mochi are very well behaved-" His familiar finally handed over his glasses and as he put them on and looked up he froze. There's no way in hell. No way. T-that was just a dream, right?
"No, no, no." Obviously unnerved, he shakily stepped down off of his bed, squinting at the blonde. "I-is your name Zeph?"
[attr="class","gearcore"] It isn't often that Zephyr is rendered speechless, but this would classify as one of those times. Although he knew that the experience of the nightmare had been shared after talking to Erin earlier in the morning, it was still a shock to find another of the victims would be sharing his rent, and that they met the day after the ordeal. Though, Zeph supposed he wouldn't have come here if last night had been a normal night, so it was more of a self-fulfilling prophecy. He doesn't respond to most of the ginger's questions until they ask his name. Even then, he just nods for a few silent moments. Hesitantly, he speaks: "Well... I like cats a whole lot better 'n undead clones, so this ain't bad as far's surprises go." Who else would have recalled the events of that nightmare but someone who had been there?
"I, uh... don't think I caught yer name, though... from the... from whatever that was," he adds. "Nightmare" wasn't an entirely accurate term for it. People didn't die from sleep-induced illusions, nor were their experiences shared with others.
Spock, meanwhile, peeks suspiciously over his shoulder to eye the stranger. Though they'd never met, Zephyr had offered her a mental description earlier. Had he been the cause of the nightmare? He was still in bed, after all. Maybe he was exhausted from such an extensive spell. Usually the curious type to swing and jump around a new room, right now Spock refused to budge.
"I was gonna start unpackin' my stuff," he said, though his inflection turned it into a question of whether it was alright for him to do so. He heard horror stories from what others had experienced, and since he had got separated from everyone in their nightmare, there was no way of telling what the ginger's whole experience had been.
