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.
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Aug 7, 2017 14:19:03 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
plain brown hair, plain brown eyes, skin two shades darker than his normal pale tone, discreet clothing in neutral colours, weapons hidden in accessible locations all over his body - kasimir studies himself with dispassionate eyes and decides that he is equipped adequately for this infiltration mission. not as much as he could be, but enough for an apprentice mission.
the mission. his lips tighten at the thought of the milano clan in all its dark, filthy, terrible glory, the infamy of its name whispered along the currents of underground rumours. the mafia almost universally holds kasimir's distain - and yes, he is very much aware of his hypocrisy, of the bitter irony of his life - and the milano is no exception; he will suffer little guilt for his actions tonight - a true rarity in his work nowadays.
footsteps, tacit like the universe does not wish them to be heard. another presence. "hirayama." kasimir greets his partner as she comes into view, red-haired and lithe and lethal like a distorted mirror of kasimir himself. despite being a fledgling in their shared coven, there is death in her eyes and danger in her smile, no trace of innocence within the shadows cast by her form.
notes: tell me what surname kasumi would be known by if you don't want kasi knowing she's an akamatsu, and i'll substitute that in :eyes: mission info here
Post by kasumi akamatsu on Aug 7, 2017 22:09:27 GMT
❧
Kasumi was no stranger to silence, movement careful, precise— weighing herself on the outer edges of her feet dampened her presence, and Vasilios was already a silent shadow hard to hear. The cheetah had enhanced the natural flow of darkness surrounding him, his usually bright spotting partially hidden beneath the shadows of his form; he was lithe and just as dangerous as his master, though he knew he must be careful; his own death would spell too much trouble. Kasumi had forgone her characteristic clothing— a tight bodysuit accented in golden and crimson hues with an elaborately styled and chained hood to go along with it. Her familiar himself had also rid himself of the headpiece, and was advancing behind his witch as they made their way to the meeting point. [break] She was instead dressed in an unassuming outfit; monochrome, really, though not in a way that spelled danger; it was far from her regular attire, which sported armoured shoulders and the like. Despite her change of clothing, however, she structured her clothing the same to play things to her advantage, the Akamatsu shurikens she’d claimed positioned in various parts of her attire, her Witch’s Call at the ready to regain the weapon when thrown. Kasumi had yet to use her other abilities — namely Lunar Glamour — to save her mana pool a bit more. [break] Soon enough, the pair caught sight of her partner, Kasimir, and she approached him with an impassive air, though not a brash one; it was clear that her interest currently lay within the mission as opposed to making friends, just as she felt he was of the same mind, but she did offer a courteous nod of greeting. “Burovski,” she murmured, bloodied eyes studying him for a moment before softening into a less abrasive look. He was not the type to be underestimated, she knew that much, and thus he earned a level of respect from her; he was not weak, and therefore not someone she would be wasting her time on. [break] With a tip of her head, she motioned for them to advance, casting a look at Vasilios to signal that he was to depart for the time being, the cheetah easily vanishing immediately. “Best to get going, can’t keep the lovely company waiting,” she drawled, though her voice remained soft, quiet; again, she was no stranger to silence. [break] Once she’d turned, she decided it would be best to adjust her appearance then; she’d already taken the liberty to tie her hair back tautly, and even taken some strands to frame her face a bit — a style she’d very rarely, if ever, be caught sporting in public. Her hair darkened considerably, taking on a very dark, almost black hue, a color characteristic of her lineage, and her eyes shifted from the bright, cutting red into a deeper emerald. Her skin remained the same, luckily she wasn’t too pale— she didn’t wish to overdo her own limitations, as that would be too complex for her to keep her concentration steady without depleting her mana to unfavorable levels.
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Aug 8, 2017 2:57:38 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
hirayama is dressed in the greys and monochromes of misted twilight, unassuming and deliberately inconspicuous in style; she has not made the amateur blunder of mistaking too-dark colours for stealth, and for that kasimir is grateful. as much as he prefers to work alone - a preference stemming from his desire to risk no more than himself - competent partners are... nice.
her eyes are sanguine, dark as they study him just as he studies her; ruthless, kasimir thinks, dangerous and ruthless and effortlessly lethal. he wonders what it says about himself that there is a level of kinship in her bearing, a certain courtesy in her greeting. ( birds of the same feather flock together, he remembers, and he tries not to dwell on the phantom itch that coats his hands )
an inclination of head, and the cheetah shadowing her vanishes into air; ( and there is more alikeness there, a distorted reflection of kirjava and himself ). "best to get going, can’t keep the lovely company waiting,” hirayama says, distain clear in her voice despite the quietness of tone.
the ghost of a wry smile catches on the edge of his lips despite himself. "indeed," kasimir responds drily.
a small flare of mana, and darkness settles over his partner's crimson hair like it had always been sable, and bright red morphs into a familiar shade of green. the difference is not great, but striking enough, dissimilar enough to fulfil its purpose. kasimir nods in approval, hesitates, then decides to tie his hair back as well. a quick braid down his back, nimble fingers rushing through a pattern that they have long committed to muscle memory; and he is done, and they are ready to depart.
"how familiar are you of the milano territory?" kasimir asks quietly. he himself has kept fairly up to date with the comings and goings of the mafia society - especially of 'allied' families - but to the actual layout of the grounds themselves his knowledge is somewhat out of date. "we may need to scout the premise first."
Post by kasumi akamatsu on Sept 29, 2017 4:44:23 GMT
❧
Her feet turn shy across the ground, floor longing to touch but her body too coy. Curling, retreating, repressing temptation to pressure beneath it; all a dance of teasing skirts and dainty moments. Everything hums yet stills at once — breathing grows slow, tongue peeking to wet her lips, pressed mouth to fill a gap — as the shadows walked, stepping dark to dark, without pause though with reason. Kasumi feels the brush of blade against her, cool metal threatening blood upon her hands as though neither know the cruelty long bred into them, as if both are unwilling to admit to the lost bruises embedded into her fingertips, though this holds no sort of real within it: the candor lay in the land between, upon the border of two truths colliding into accepted deception. [break] A forest ripples sideway, takes in the word — singular, dry, though hinting at sardonic — before the gaze of treetop ripples leave him, quick as they swayed before. The emerald is an untruth as well; there is no ferocity held in them, no lethality, merely the depiction of an analytical soul, telling not of danger but rather of trepidation, of caution and deliberation, a mere facet of the eyes they masked. But there, the ruby could wait, prey, watch — target. It was all Kasumi needed from them. [break] She takes a moment as the air shatters with Burovski’s words, jaw loosening to part her own from their hold, hair tripping over itself as her head tilts — slightly, imperceptibly. [break] “I have an idea—” she begins before her tongue tightens, and she welcomes another beat. She knew of the Milanos in a different life; not of a Hirayama’s life. “But it would be best to avoid… miscalculations. Let’s sweep the property, as you said.” [break] Voice remaining quiet, soft as flower petals falling lifeless against enraptured soil, she spoke to him — a sound so apart from its owner it was jarring if one knew her, or of her, yet it was innate. Inherently blunt in style, though velvet all the same, as though she was birthed into the arms of duplicity. [break] Perhaps she was.
359 words ● kasimir burovski ✨ ● I'M STUCK ON HOW TO EXPAND I AM SORRY BUT HERE YOU GO
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Nov 21, 2017 6:12:35 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
"i have an idea-" hirayama begins, and his eyes sharpen as he awaits her proposal, only for the syllables to falter on her tongue, shifting shape and form to a cadence different from the sentence that had been begun. he shoots her a sidelong glance but does not comment ( curiosity, despite its claws sunk deep into his skin, is an urge he has long since learned to ignore ), instead turning his mind to the mission at hand.
he inclines his head, gaze drifting towards the compound that lies ahead. it is as dark and foreboding as any cliché would have one believe, sharp corners and shadows pooling together in tenebrous ink to cloak potential traps, potential sentries. "spilt up, i map second floor, you map ground, rendezvous back here in approximately three hours?" kasimir suggests quietly, turning to face his partner once more.
Post by kasumi akamatsu on Jan 4, 2018 3:34:14 GMT
❧
A low hum pressed up against Kasumi’s chest after Burovski’s quiet proposal, her dark eyes catching his as he turned to her; her lips parted for a moment, closed, then separated once more— small, deliberative movements as her gaze muddied fractionally while the suggestion materialized, thoughts jumping to calculations before she had to weigh them. It took only a beat — a small, inconsequential beat — before her chin dipped, and she turned the air to words. [break] “Alright,” she said softly, her tone neutral though allowing a hint of approval. “Here’s to things going smoothly— and if either of us are to need assistance from the other, is there any preference you may have to communicate that?” [break] Kasumi herself had many — touching her smallest finger to her index for close range communication, a word in overheard conversation, a certain step pattern, coded blinks, the list went on — but operating under different aliases, with many different partners and without, she had learned to ask first and betray her own later; she had learned not to trust others with that which granted her comfort, but instead to adapt to something she could less doubtfully believe the partner would remember.
word count ● kasimir burovski ✨ ● sorry it took a while & is short; i had to get back into character first rip it has been too long
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Jan 4, 2018 4:09:35 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
hirayama agrees his plan, and he dips his head slightly at the hint of approval in her voice. "one can only hope," he responds dryly, with a touch of self-depreciating humour. no plan survives the first contact with the enemy, the saying goes, and even something so simple as a scouting has the potential to go... quite differently from what is expected. though hopefully, not this time.
he tilts his head as he considers means of communication. "kirjava could go with you," he says at last, and the ocelot materialises with a quiet whisper of mana, small as the size of a housecat but something in her amber-gold eyes belying that connection. the entirety of the compound should be within her dematerialisation range, and should hirayama find herself in a situation needing backup, kasimir is fully capable of performing a switch with his familiar.
