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.
The caged bird sings with a fearful trill of things unknown yet longed for still.
yvella had a long list of enemies and somewhere -at least among the top seven or so- was the heated yet dispassionate crowd of hauntingly blurry faces that stalked the city center of sundial. in their capes and robes these witches marched onwards to a distant destinaton- their eyes there but sight set elsewhere, and sometimes nowhere at all. this terrified her the most, she supposed- that there were this many magical beings that existed and could be interacted with, and the buzz of everything they said and did came alive-- at it was really all too much for her to handle.
her sister, on the other hand, had disappeared to become one with the crowd and had done so with the kind of enthusiasm that demanded to be met with a sigh in response.
only-- "sorry!" she said, blinking out of her trance and face turning a bright red as she hurried away from the stranger. the lapse in thought, that quick brush of the shoulders...it was enough to lose her sister entirely. the cape, the hat, the eyepatch and all.
yvella wanted to scream. that had been her default desire for quite a long time, but now it was even more so prominent. she hissed in displeasure (reveling in that sound that was swallowed whole by the crowd) before she slipped out of the mass of faces and onto a less crowded portion of the street.
just then, she caught sight of a long haired lady - the scarlet, especially, stood out. "excuse me," she asked, tapping the stranger gently on the shoulder with graceful, ghostly fingers. "do you happen to have seen---"
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Aug 29, 2017 11:41:03 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
people, floods of people like an overflowing dam burst rushed and wild, people like a southern sea flowing inland with waves that ebb and grow with the moon. kasimir's expression is set in a decidedly neutral mask though the line of his shoulders is tenser than normal; he does not quite appreciate this deluge of people pressing against him, shifting, bumping, trapping. he is not one for crowds on a good day, let alone this early morn.
'is there an event occurring?' he wonders at kirjava as he pulls himself away and into a more subdued side street. 'there are not normally so many people, are there?' he receives the mental equivalent of a shrug and a vague sense of echoed bewilderment; his familiar, it seems, is no more informed than he.
but in her mental tone there is an undercurrent of uneasiness, a desire to escape to quieter, less crowded ( dangerous ) locations that kasimir wholeheartedly agrees with; he turns to leave, only to swiftly turn back, green eyes startled, as a gentle tap ghosts again his shoulder. a woman meets his gaze, ink-haired and amber-eyed with an air of harried exasperation and annoyance ( the dagger hilt his fingers were instinctively drawn to is subtly retracted ).
"...can i help you?" he asks cautiously, a little uncertain as to what anyone would want him for.
The caged bird sings with a fearful trill of things unknown yet longed for still.
only the woman turns around and suddenly it's not a woman at all- or is it? for a minute she can't be certain and so she searches his expressions and mannerisms. instead, she finds something she doesn't quite expect. tension, like a pulled bow with an arrow aflame.
so she isn't the only one averse to strangers.
and yet his question catches her off guard and for a moment she forgets the entirtiy of what she was going to say. "i--" she clicks her tongue, remembering her younger years where she had caught on to the bad habit of stuttering before every sentence. "terribly sorry," she corrects, her eyes blinking away and flickering towards the crowd.
well, she can't exactly tell the man that the reason she wanted his help was that she thought he was a rather tall and decent looking woman who had a decent vantage over the crowd, now can she?
"i'm just-- looking for my sister?" she speas apologetically and her tone lacked the finality of authority. her voice trais off and her gaze does, too. "younger siblings just have a knack for disappearing into crowds, don' they..." she mumbles, and then shoots a glance at the stranger. "have you seen a young girl around? she looks like..ah, well. me, but a lot more youthful. "
yvella offers the man a sheepish chuckle at her lack of description. the crowd pushes on around them, time races forward.
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Sept 2, 2017 6:01:00 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
surprise flickers like fire across the woman's face for no particular reason kasimir can discern - as far as he can tell, he has not done anything out of the ordinary. was the woman expecting something else, someone else? wariness curls in his chest as she looks away, looks back, gaze darting like the unpredictable path of a butterfly's path. but he does not leave just yet - unjust paranoia is no unknown enemy of his.
he waits patiently for the dark-haired woman to say her piece, doing his best to ignore the pinpoint crawling of breathless hyperawareness across his skin - people, so many of them, so many unknowns and potential threats crowding so close; though he knows that there is highly unlikely to be an attack here in broad daylight, he does not know.
"i'm just- looking for my sister?" the older witch finds her words, an uncertain lilt and apologetic tone to her voice. kasimir's eyes snap back to her, and admit it or not, something within him softens at the mention of a little sister. "that they do," he agrees, something like empathy and fond exasperation leaking from his voice to play across his face. "i... unfortunately have not," he admits apologetically at the description. for all his awareness of the crowd, he has been more focused on their presence as opposed to their appearance. something he regrets now.
impulse flashes, quick like a tongue of fire flaring up into the sky. "if you would like, i can help you look for her," he offers, memories of saskia's silver laugh, saskia's smile, the panic that had all but consumed him that one time he had lost sight of his little sister playing across his mind.
The caged bird sings with a fearful trill of things unknown yet longed for still.
the man seems familiar with her dilemma- too familiar. yvella is the kind to pick out details like little weeds. they are as glaringly obvious to her as those would be to any efficient plantshaper. "you have a young sister, too?" she asks, smiling apologetically.
"oh don't worry about it. crowds are a special kind of torture," she shakes her head as though regretting herself that she had taken evelyn out here. but of course, crowds were something her sister loved. and she couldn't really beg eve to stay at home for more than three days in a week.
she often joked that it was akin to walking a dog.
she's surprised by the man's offer. she pauses for a bit: the fast-paced frenzy of the city streets has no effect on her own rhythm. she takes her time to consider the offer and then responds with a: "certainly. you'd have my thanks." mistrust lingers, but she waves it off by walking to the side of the street. "perhaps we should get a higher vantage point..."
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Oct 11, 2017 12:51:28 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
she looks at him with something like kinship in her eyes. “you have a young sister, too?” she asks, and he stills. then he breathes, and forces himself to continue breathing, to halt his fingers in their desire to reach for a dagger, to reign back the mistrustful suspicion that rises on instinct. ’how did you know?’ is his first through, steeped in paranoid panic, before reason steps tacitly forth and suggests that likely he had revealed the fact through his words, his expression, his tone.
“i do.” he inclines his head in confirmation, eyes steady, tone steady, posture unchanged and breathing even. as much as he himself dislikes the fact, as much as it is not his specialisation, kasimir is a trained infiltrator with all the acting abilities it entails.
surprise wings across her face at his impulsive offer- he cannot blame her, he is surprised at himself for the question that slips from his tongue- and he is more surprised still when she accepts. "there is no need to thank me," he responds quietly, glancing away.
he nods at the older witch's suggestion. "the terrace over there should provide a higher vantage point," he says, inclining his head towards the indicated location.
the crowds drift past like clouds caught in a crisp breeze, rivulets on the pavement winding their way to the sea - ebbs and flows of movement and colour that flow past them without interruption. he casts a gaze outwards, scanning, searching, looking for that flash of ink-dark hair he assumes the girl will possess. "what was she wearing?" kasimir asks, turning back to the woman.
The caged bird sings with a fearful trill of things unknown yet longed for still.
yvella doesn't think much about her guess being right; she would have been more surprised had she been wrong. she raises an eyebrow at his supposed abashedness, and shrugs lightly. "who has time for another in such a bustling city? your offer is a rarity."
--at this point, severa appears. of course. yvella was wondering why the panther hadn't made herself known. perhaps she had been resting. or, more likely, plotting a timing she thought would be the most effective in getting a desired reaction out of her mistress. the panther appears in a shadowy wisp, but then the materialization stays and she leans against yvella's legs and yawns affectionately.
"she means to say, take the compliment, dearest stranger."
yvella chortles but says nothing. "yes, you're right." she chooses to ignore her familiar entirely and nods at the man instead. she first makes sure they are walking at a similar pace (preferably side by side), and then makes way towards the staircases of the nearby building. her heels clank against the pavement, beaded anklets making soft jingles that are soon suppressed by the noise of the city.
"ah...." a pause. "she's wearing her helios knights outfit. hasn't taken it off since the day she was accepted, i swear."
her eyes twinkle in amusement as she recalls eve's excitement at opening her acceptance letter, but her unseen attention is focused on the stranger, wondering what kind of reaction he would have to the Order being mentioned.
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Dec 7, 2017 11:25:13 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
his mouth twists in a thin line of understated disapproval at the truth of her statement; he does not protest it. kasimir... knows how unforgiving the citizens of sundial can be, knows intimately the casual blindness people are willing to demonstrate to those in need of help. he cannot fault them for it, not when the underlying nature of humanity lies in unforgiving selfishness ( of which he, certainly, is of no exception ) - but that does not mean he must approve.
shadows coalesce, tenebrous wisps twisting together in an outline of a sleek panther before gaining materiality in full ink-detail. his eyes slide its way; in the front of his consciousness, kirjava perks up in interest. "ah," he says at the familiar's words, faintly embarrassed, and inclines his head at her. kasimir bites back the apology that springs to his tongue; somehow, he does not think that it would be appreciated. "thank you, then."
they fall into a comfortable stride, percussive against the pavement marked by the soft jingle of an anklet and a steady 'click-clack' beat. the city passes them by in dribs and drabs of colour - none appear to be the sister his companion is searching for.
kasimir pauses slightly at the mention of the helios knights, features neutral as ever, then continues on as normal. "it should make her easier to spot, then," he remarks with a touch of dry humour, a somewhat wry twist to his lips. kasimir may be a silvertongue, and his coven and the order may have their... mutual disagreements, but he holds nothing against the helios knights personally. he agrees with some of their ideals - more so than he agrees with the ideals of his own coven, even - and were it not for the certain circumstances of his life, he may actually have attempted to join the knights. still, it would probably be best not to mention his own nominal affiliation.
"are you a knight then, too?" he asks, lightly enough that it is clear that he would not mind if the question was not answered.
The caged bird sings with a fearful trill of things unknown yet longed for still.
Severa eyes the male, seizes him up without bothering to make her glare discrete. Demure, a little slow, and quiet without being too modest. Not bad, but she dreads that any conversation such a human could have with the far-worse Yvella would literally have her crying from boredom. Why wouldn’t opposites attract more often?
Severa clicks her tongue and does not respond to the response, and instead darts up the stairway much faster than the two witches. She wants to find Evelyn, too, after all. At least that one could make her mistress talk.
Yvella pauses at the stranger’s comment and catches on quickly to the faint traces of humor. “Oh yes. I’m surprised she even got lost. Though the setting could be a factor…” Indeed, they, were in the heart of the city. From their vantage point, the Helios Knight Hall rose up in the distance and its gardens stretched out around it.
The stranger’s comment went through a long stream of mental processes. The civillians around here were either fanatics of the knights, or they themselves were witches that knew the illusion of granduer only ran skin deep. The only others with such dry wit were the rich themselves, who had the audacity to believe they were above the knights (despite relying on them like crutches)--
And then his question posed to her like a light footed fox- sneaking about, ears twitching with mischeif. “Why, what makes you think that?” Her tone is conversational. “Do you and your sister frequent the same coven?”
She takes a look at the people out in the streets and is surprise when she doesn’t immediately spot Evelyn. She couldn’t have gotten far, and yet…. “Strange…” Where had she gone? And then she noticed it- she could not describe what she noticed. But as an observer, as the most well-trained wallflower she knew, Yvella understood that the movement in the crowds was completely unusual.
"Do you see it?" She asked, finding the words to explain disintegrating on her tongue. There was a pattern in the crowds. A dangerous one. Figures were moving, circling about something...
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Dec 8, 2017 12:56:09 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
he can feel the panther's eyes on him, sharp and intent and entirely judgemental. kasimir carefully does not react; kirjava growls softly across their mental bond, her instinctively protective desire to manifest sparking throughout his veins. he sends a pulse of exasperated fondness her way; 'there is absolutely no need to get defensive,' he tells her - words which are summarily ignored with a disgruntled huff.
the city spreads beneath their eyes in a patchwork quilt of verdure and grey-stone buildings and roads splayed out in watercolour dapples, the shining spire of the sundial tower rising above the horizon gilded in gold from the sun, the helios knight hall resplendent and stately with its grandiose architecture and crimson coven banners fluttering in the breeze. it is a beautiful sight, deserving to be captured in picture and paint; for a brief instant, kasimir longs for his inks and charcoals and rough sketchbook paper- and then the moment passes, as all moments do.
humour flashes through the green of his eyes. "indeed," he deadpans, and nods in the direction of the many knights moving through the streets below. not to mention the civilians also dressed in varying shades of red and gold. "her outfit could, technically, be considered a form of camouflage here."
his companion's light, conversational tone elicits a quiet wariness that has him regretting he had ever posed his question. this is why he should, and does, stay silent. alas, such an option is not possible for him now through his own doings; kasimir betrays none of his inner turmoil on his face and merely offers a small shrug. "it is my understanding that family members tend to gravitate towards the same coven," he says.
the line of questioning is, thankfully, diverted when his companion looks out to the streets, a hint of surprise winging across her expression. he follows her gaze; a blink and he, too, sees what she has noticed. the normal steady stream of people with its various ebbs and flows has been disrupted with ripples, suspiciously circular movements almost as if cornering prey. "ah," he says, brows creasing in a frown. "yes. that- is not normal crowd behaviour."
a moment of hesitation. "should we?" he asks, gesturing to the street.
The caged bird sings with a fearful trill of things unknown yet longed for still.
severa, who is balancing carefully on the stone railings with her tail flickering about and her eyes flickering faster, catches what the male says and turns around to observe her mistress's reaction. yvella blinks, shrugs and lets the statement hang in the air: perhaps or perhaps not. the stranger had no need of her coven affiliation.
and the sky is blue, yvella thinks sarcastically, but says nothing. her eyes pierce into the crowds- it's like she hasn't heard him at all. should we? she thinks, and blinks and turns to him. should we what? was he expecting a stranger to jump into a dangerous crowd with him? by all means, she'd made herself look like the model helpless civillian. and she was wearing five inch heels for merlin's sake.
and surely his first reaction to the circling of sharks should not be to play the role of bait? or was she missing something?
"what do you mea---"
too slow.
she catches the movement. a mile away and yet it makes her heart jump to her throat. "there." the word is spoken with the finality of a eulogy. "a dozen miles too high to be a regulated flier."
indeed, there was a broomstick traveling at an insane speed, carrying what appeared to be an oversized package. in sundial, few had use for a personal broomstick thanks to the city's fantastic transportation services. and recreational flying was strictly controlled.
but yvella had a feeling this was far more dangerous than some teenager on an adrenaline rush.
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Jan 10, 2018 13:26:26 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
there is no answer to his leading statement given, and kasimir thinks, fair enough. were he in a similar position, he would likely be as wary of giving away too much information as the witch beside him is. warier, in all likelihoods, if he is to be honest with himself. information is power is vulnerabilities conceded unnecessarily, after all.
he expects the incredulity less, however. is it... truly so surprising want to take a closer look? observe, with caution, from afar, and leave with prejudice in necessary. but then again, he had not made his desires clear, and the happenings of the street below them is likely neither of their business.
just as he is about to rescind his words, the woman speaks again, eyes trained somewhere up in the sky. kasimir follows her gaze to catch a figure on a broomstick, tearing through the sky with an oversized package teetering on the edge of collapse. he frowns, lips tilting down as his mind races to come up with potential reasons for this regulation-breaking flyer.
"do you think it has any correlation with the street?" he asks his companion.
The caged bird sings with a fearful trill of things unknown yet longed for still.
but she does not hear it at all- her mind is racing. evelyn. evelyn! where is she? why can she see her sister? she has to bee somewhere here, and instinct is telling her she's right in the danger zone. intuition tells her the flyer will start descending. and finally, paranoia tells her there's nothing she can do about it.
she's thinking too fast and too much and-- what did he say? she hadn't listened to a word.
severa sighs. "it has every correlation to the street. speeding up, but the altitude isn't increasing or changing much at all. a controlled flight."
the words have grave implications: the flier is looking for a location to drop off the mysterious package. but the panther is clearly unbothered by what might happen if the contents of the package are dropped onto the masses: her narrowed yellow eyes are proof she only really cares about one other person in that mess.
"yvella..." she says.
"--what?" the witch snaps. "it's too far away for any semblance of accuracy now. and what if the thing is flammable for merlin's sake?!"
she wasn't acting because she couldn't- the cards were played against her. this was fate. there was nothing to be done.
in the back of her mind, severa's jaundiced stared daggers into her soul.
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Jan 13, 2018 12:21:23 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
his companion does not appear to hear his words at all - they may as well have been snatched up by the north wind and torn to shreds for all the impact they make. kasimir thinks he may see the stirrings of panic or worry flit like mayflies through her eyes. what for, he could not say.
but the panther familiar answers where her witch does not; kasimir listens, gaze flicking up to the flyer to confirm, then dips his head in concession. still, he has no clue as to why such a sight elicits such perturbation from the woman by his side - it, and the stirring in the streets below have little to do with her or her sister. unless... unless it does - and then her concern would make more sense.
but he knows better than to ask; it is none of his business, he knows, and he has little desire to engage in the delicate dance of words yet again.
still, for a brief moment, kasimir considers offering to trail the broomstick flier to wherever they might land - there are certain advantages to the ability to summon wings. the idea is quickly dismissed, however. revealing such information about himself to a stranger, for a stranger, to alleviate whatever concern that plagues her mind - it is hardly an even trade off.
another moment of hesitation, and he clears his throat rather awkwardly. "uh," he says softly, eyes darting between the familiar and her witch. "you were... looking for your sister, though?" and therein, the unspoken question: what does the package or the flier or the street have to do with your missing sibling?