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"] Zephyr was opening all of the Gates he had set up across Sundial from his apartment room, searching (without success) for his brother. The crafter had just returned back from a fairly long trip along the rails and, as he always did, had brought back gifts from the places he'd seen. He may have outdone himself this time, though...
The Rothscus home had been the first place he'd checked, but that had been a few minutes ago and he hadn't asked if Aeris knew his other son's whereabouts. Zeph jumped into the portal which he'd set up in his old room upstairs and rushed down to the living room. "Hey dad, I'm home! Do ya know where M--" his shouting ceases abruptly as the front door opens, heralding in Maddox (speak of the devil) and his favorite ginger assassin. His eyes brightened at the sight of his brother, and immediately glinted with mischief when he saw Sirius. If he had to guess, he would have assumed they had met up to make plans for some sort of mission, but it couldn't have been too urgent, right? They could probably take a break for a night.
"Just who I was lookin' for!" Zeph exclaims, wedging himself between the two and hooking one arm around each of their shoulders, "Mads, d'ya remember a few months back when I went t' that crazy monastery east o' eclipse town?" The monastery in question was in such a bizarre location that Zeph was entirely convinced there wouldn't have been any trains running in that direction if it wasn't for the monks' exports. Maddox may have recalled the stories Zeph had told of how those monks used a special kind of mead which they crafted themselves to help them commune with their deities. Selling this mead to more prosperous cities was their way of spreading the good word. "Well th' entrance to a cave where they get a bunch of their herbs collapsed so I did 'em a favor by unblockin' it, aaaand guess what I got as a "thank you" gift?" Despite not having even drunk anything yet, it was physically impossible for Zephyr to erase the huge shit-eating grin currently plastering his face.
Post by maddox rothscus ✨ on Sept 4, 2017 3:20:45 GMT
"i've decided that i hate politicians," he is saying when he pushes open the front door, almost petulant in his frown as he contemplates the intricacies of their mission. missions, actually, because it is the fact that they are continuously hired by the same politician that complicates their task so.
a semi-related train of thought goes: it is understandable that an assassin with such a name as sirius' gets hired so often, but his own is practically unheard of; he is, for the most part, simply a wayward soul from an out-of-town coven. he reaches the conclusion that it is more or less his own fault for involving himself in this mess.
he turns the corner, and the sight of his brother abruptly chases any hints of a vaguely serious expression from his face; "you're back early," he laughs, clapping zephyr on the back as the blond hooks an arm around his shoulder ( and from the forge, above the steady 'tink!' of metal on metal, comes a yell of 'welcome back, kids!' ). the door slides open mid-way through zephyr's excited talk as pearlie crawls in, presumably to fetch something for aeris. she slaps her tail on the ground in greeting, eyes the red-haired stranger with as much friendliness she can muster in a reptilian smile, and waddles onward.
zephyr's grin is infectious -- maddox cannot help but mirror zephyr's own excitement, his own eyes bright, mission temporarily forgotten. "please tell me you got some of that mead," he says, before he leans forward to catch kasimir's eye. "we can just put off the mission for a little while, it's nothing urgent. trust me, you're not gonna regret this."
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Sept 21, 2017 2:17:02 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
sometimes, kasimir is convinced he has succumbed to the inevitable insanity of his life despite his best efforts to cling onto a modicum of sense. what else, after all, would explain his current position following his erstwhile mission partner home when they are still all but strangers? if he were any more paranoid, he would think this a trap.
"i've decided that i hate politicians," maddox says, and he is reminded of why he had agreed to come. the tangled mess with emerson and marx and whatever other allies/non-allies they have is aggravating and suspicious enough that kasimir feels well the need to commiserate with one that could understand - in other words, his mission partner. "agreed," he replies, low and dark.
the older man opens the door to reveal the interior of his house, and, perhaps uncharitably, kasimir's first thought is, 'this is not what i had expected.' the house is warm, picture-story homely looking with cream coloured walls and well-worn couches, a fireplace obviously used and a brightly-patterned tablecloth draped over the table. all in all, as far as first impressions go, the house looks far more like what one would expect of a happy storybook suburban family with two children and a dog - not the reckless, easy-going, dangerous man he has come to know.
but then, a familiar blond makes himself known, and suddenly kasimir has more to occupy his mind than the eddies of impressions and expectations. "just who i was lookin' for!" zephyr says cheerfully, and kasimir cannot help but tense as the mechanic wedges himself in between the two of them and slings his arms around their shoulders. intensely uncomfortable, he decides, adequately describes his feelings. also regret. regret for all the life choices that had lead him up to this point.
faced with two matching, wide grins, he stills, then tries anew to extract himself from their grip. "i... do not think that would be a good idea," he says, eyes flickering from one face to the other. "i- it would be remiss of me to interrupt your outing. we can arrange a time to discuss the mission later. please excuse me." he bows his head in slight farewell as he attempts to leave.
[attr="class","gearcore"] "Thanks!" Zeph called back to Aeris, while Spock swung down from the rafters to give Perlie a quick fistbump and climbing back up just as quickly. Generally speaking, the welcoming crocodile stayed close to the floor, Spock lurked around the ceiling, and Moosely took up all of the space in between. It created an odd sort of balance in the household, though it wasn't anything serious enough for them to be territorial about it. On the contrary, Spock and Zeph had at one point started building an overly involved winch and pulley system to let Perlie drift along the ceiling as well (at least before Aeris gave them the order to cease and desist, lest they collapse the shop's ceiling).
There was no need for the mechanic to reply to Maddox with words -- the blond's quick, excited nod was more than enough of an answer. Yes, he'd gotten the mead, and it was honestly a wonder that he hadn't drank any of it yet.
As the world's Grumpiest Assassin attempted to bow out of the situation, Zeph's resolve hardened. He was going to convince Sirius to have a drink, disregarding the lack of self preservation which naturally came with messing with an assassin.
"Maybe he won't be so sirius when he's drunk," Spock quipped along their mental link as she glanced down at the trio while hanging from her tail.
"Ya can only hope n' pray," the mechanic silently retorted in the same manner.
"Hooold up, mate," Zeph says out loud, slipping his arm off of Maddox so he could clasp both of the assassin's shoulders without putting him in a chokehold. He spins Sirius back around so he's facing away from the exit. "We've got more'n plenty o' this stuff, so there's no need t' make yourself scarce, yeh? Have a seat. Take a load off." He gives the redhead a quick pat on the shoulders before letting go, hoping that his brother could convince the third to stick around while he teleported the goods over to their location.
"I'll just be a minute. Not even that long, likely," the mechanic notes with a grin as he bounds away through a doorway which glimmered briefly as he stepped through. Although the door does not close, he appears to vanish.
True to his word, Zeph reappears a half-minute later, returning from the same door while rolling a quarter cask barrel in front of him.
Post by maddox rothscus ✨ on Apr 4, 2018 8:08:00 GMT
the grin slips slightly when there’s an attempt to leave - nothing malicious of any sort, just the mild and poorly stifled disappointment when a friend turns down your invitation to hang out. it’s a moment brief and genuine, and he’s just about to protest when zephyr beats him to it. so he just ends up gesturing vaguely to zephyr and adding, unnecessarily, “yeah, that.”
“it’s strategically beneficial when mission partners trust each other, and drinking together is always a fool-proof way to foster friendship and trust, right?” it isn’t really a question when he says it. or, at least, it doesn’t sound like the type of question where he considers an answer - it’s really more of the type where he’s already recognised the fact that another answer, no matter how logical, will not alter his opinion. he moves to stand not-so-discreetly in front of the exit, just in case.
“it’ll be fun! for real!” pauses. considers. “and i mean, sirius-ly!” cue smile, cue finger guns, cue realising the joke is overused yet showing no signs of regret. he asks instead, genuinely curious as he watches zephyr roll the cask towards him, “is that a thing you hear often?”
moosely takes the appearance of the barrel as a cue; he materialises without comment, hooves clattering noisily on the floor before he disappears around the corner into what is probably the kitchen. a moment later, he reemerges with several glass mugs dangling precariously off the hooks of his antlers. clearly, a familiar routine.
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Apr 6, 2018 16:31:50 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
disappointment sinks into maddox's eyes like the gathering of storm clouds blocking out the light; for a moment, kasimir almost feels guilty enough to reconsider. but no, his paranoia and discomfort and aversion to strangers wins out ( by a rather large margin ), and he turns to slip away before any further entreatments can be made.
only- a solid weight settles across his shoulders, a grip firm and not easily broken. kasimir stiffens, eyes flashing in brief panic at being trapped, being held down the unexpected gesture before he freezes himself into stone stillness, the clenching of his jaw and the rigidity of his spine the only indications of his discomfort. his gaze flickers to maddox, to zephyr, then back to maddox, silently entreating them to just let him go.
"thank you for your hospitality, but it is not necessary." he makes another protest but it sounds weak even to his own ears; an attempt to dart out the door is stopped before he can do more than take a single step in its direction by virtue of maddox blocking the entire entrance. there is a distant rumble as zephyr reenters the room rolling a casket in front of him and a clatter of hooves that announces moosely's presence. one final glance at maddox, and kasimir gives in, shoulders slumping imperceptibly as he resigns himself to his reality.
"yes, it is," he replies dryly, a hint of exasperation stealing through his eyes. "hardly the pinnacle of original puns, maddox." kasimir steals a glance around, a little uncertain as to what he is meant to do, how he should behave, what is appropriate; zephyr and maddox and both their familiars seem so comfortable in this space that it only furthers kasimir's sense of displacement.
( his eyes catch on the furniture he had skipped over during his first impression of the house, on the decor of the space. something niggles in the back of his mind, something like he should remember, something important... )
