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 ashanti verna on Sept 17, 2017 15:22:38 GMT
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have i always loved you? have i always known? / have i always loved you alone?
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Ashanti Verna is not used to dresses. She likes skirts, sure. And formal capes, though still a novelty, were objects of power she had admired as a young kid (when she could still shamelessly bask in her sister's sunlight). But dresses had always been the way she'd distinguished herself from the rest of the crowd. Her family, you see, had consisted majorly of older women- creatures she was not and would never be. [break][break] She wondered idly if now was a good time as any to try, for the first time, a gown. The dress kissed the ground- it was triple tiered underneath with a tight-fitting top. She felt like she had sacrificed haf her lung capacity to still feel like a fish out of water. [break][break] She sighed dramatically as she looked at her reflection in the glass of wine. She didn't even drink! (Except that one time, but no one talks about that one time). "Cinderella must've had one hell of a culture shock," Asha remarked, letting the cape with the Helios Knights emblem flow behind her as she walked, arm in arm with Elih.[break][break] "What do you think the mission's about?" Asha asked, even though she had already made her guesses. "You don't think he'll try to blow up the place, do you!" She smiled in an effort to show it was a joke, that maybe that would have been more acceptable than...well, whatever this was.
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notes operation slowly breka away at innocence is a go (dress)[break][break]elih kartal
[attr="class","elihcontent"]HE IS FAMILIAR with such occasions, though not by virtue of any affection nor want of it, but of childhood obligation. still, it has been a fair bit of time since he last attended a gala. never too long, though, he thinks. if he had it his way, elih would be quite content to never set foot in a hall half as grand as this ever again. alas, the mission dictates otherwise, and who is he to disoblige?[break][break]
elih tugs at the collar of his suit, adjusts his tie, sleeves; a dozen other anxious, fidgety motions until he forces himself to be still, knowing that the royal blue cape across his shoulders bears the fools cap of jester's den, and not ( blissfully ) anything to do with his family. he takes solace in such a fact, though really, that is a term used lightly. really, all it does is shift his worry towards not doing anything that would tarnish the coven's name. even as he walks, fingers gripping the fluted champagne glass a little too tightly, he can think of at least half a dozen ways he can do it. ( one of them: mere existence. ) i want to go home.[break][break]
but, he supposes, he can take comfort in the fact that ashanti will do her coven proud; she is a picture of elegance, star-shine silver, even despite the dramatic sigh and contemplation of cinderella's circumstance. "it's certainly...something," he replies softly, a monochromatic figure cut in a suit of stark white that belies a much more hesitant nature.[break][break]
"...you don't think he'll try to blow up the place, do you!" [break][break]
"i hope not," he ends up saying, unable to find an appropriately witty response, his mind overwrought with terrible possibilities of things that could go wrong. he does, however, try his best to mirror a smile -- it's the ghost of one, a faint and lopsided curve of the lips, but the sentiment is clear. his eyes leave hers shortly, distractedly scanning the crowd in quick, furtive movements. "do we know anything about mr crestwalker? like, uh, what to talk to him about? any plan for that?" [break][break]
as the type of person who typically has to rehearse his order at least five times before ordering a cup of coffee ( and inevitably messing something up on the way ), he fervently wishes for there to be a script to be provided for such interaction, but of course, there isn't.
Post by ashanti verna on Sept 18, 2017 16:17:17 GMT
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have i always loved you? have i always known? / have i always loved you alone?
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She's gotten used to Elih- and she's figured out how to get responses from him. Unfortunately, the only consistently working method (to isolate him from other humans and let him stir in introspection for a few hours beforehand) is sadly out of her reach tonight. She'll rely on cheap tricks like lingering eye contact and gentle nudges for the duration of the ball, she supposes. [break][break] Ashanti is at ease in the crowd, but not in her dress. Elih, by contrast, is the opposite. Somehow, she thinks, they've become friends. [break][break]And yet...[break][break] She can't help but give him googly eyes and a musical laugh when he asks, with full fledged concerned, what and how they'll be talking to Mr. Crestwalker. Sometimes, she wonders how Elih has survived this long. "We can figure that out after we find him." [break][break]But she's learned to cater to others moreso than she lets on, and Asha squeezes Elih's elbow. "Just relax. I think I see him there." [break][break] Across the crowd is a plesantly plump man--shining bald head reflecting the light of the chandeiers as haphazard (yet oddly maintained) strokes of brilliant gold paint his lip. He's wearing a bowtie of all things. Even Asha can tell that's somehow inappropriate. [break][break] "Ooooh I know! Introduce me as the daughter of some noble or something. I've always wanted to take playing princess literally..."
[break][break] She's enjoying this a little too much for her own good.
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notes operation slowly breka away at innocence is a go (dress)[break][break]elih kartal
[attr="class","elihcontent"]SHE LAUGHS, and he blinks in surprise, not just at her reaction but the notion of spontaneity. to not plan? to simply walk up and start a conversation, just like that? it sounds like a recipe for disaster, and even hamster murmurs, oh no. but all elih says is, unconvincingly, "uh-huh."[break][break]
"just relax. i think i see him there."[break][break]
he turns to look sharply, a movement so quick he can feel a twinge in his neck, eyes suddenly wide like a deer caught in headlights. for a moment, his step stutters, but asha doesn't, so he has little choice but to keep moving forward. ( distractedly, he wonders how she does it -- to simply step forward with little hesitation, to take the opportunity and not think twice. )[break][break]
the man certainly stands out with his unorthodox manner of dress; perhaps his position allows for the luxury of such. "a daughter of some noble?" he murmurs to asha quietly, trying his best to squash down any trepidation as they near mr crestwalker. his breathing slows, forcing a thin veneer of calm over his voice. "i can try."[break][break]
he waits for the man to finish a conversation with someone else before stepping forward, inclining his head in a small bow. "good evening, mr crestwalker, sir," he begins, and a small, polite smile makes its appearance across his lips. "i must say, this gala is simply amazing!" dear merlin, he's out of practice. before he can attempt to drown himself in small talk and other intricate and tedious details of gala etiquette, he nods slightly towards asha, saying, "may i have the pleasure of introducing miss ashanti, of the de vere family?"
Last Edit: Sept 21, 2017 15:23:12 GMT by elih kartal
Post by ashanti verna on Sept 21, 2017 3:38:19 GMT
[nospaces]
[attr="class","dna2"]
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have i always loved you? have i always known? / have i always loved you alone?
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She realizes she has to tug at Elih's arm to get him to take that initial step towards Mr. Crestwalker. Asha tends to find herself among the quiet ones a little too often, so by now, she's used to it. Her tempo tends to swerve and match her current crowd's, and she is determined to not let Elih's nerves of rubber get to her. [break][break]Mr Crestwalker turns to greet them and smiles from underneath his moustache- his nose and ears are tipped with pink and his small blue eyes shine like little sapphires lost in an ivory sea. Charisma is the first thing that Ashanti feels, and then the upbeat rhythm of his responses: [break][break]"Oh yes, that it is, that it is. I'd heard Sinclair knows how to host a party, and now I've seen it for myself." He laughs heartily. "Goes all the way with everything that he does." [break][break] His appraising eye rests on her immediately after- even she has been appraised all her life till coming to Sundial, Ashanti can feel her posture stiffen as the lights feel like they're focusing on her. Maybe this wasn't the best approach- but how else were they supposed to slip past all the other people that were surely more important than she was? Less less less-- the stubborn voice in her mind clawed at her. A low rumble from Polaris sent it back to whence it came. [break][break]Asha breathed in and out. [break][break] "A pleasure to meet you!" she said, her tone too chirpy for the daughter of a noble. And then, instinctively, reflexively, oh-so-incorrectly, she offered her hand for a handshake. [break][break] She blinked. The world seemed to buzz for a minute and she heard her mother's voice shout something at her. Because she was social- but alas not very well educated in terms of society. Those were two separate traits. Her hand hovered and she chuckled nervously and began slowly retracting it. "Ahaha, nice, hmmm music isn't it?"
[break][break] SHe was almost half way done with her self-propagated social burial when Mr Crestwalker reached out and grabbed her hand and shook it. [break][break] "Please meeting you as well, Ms De Vere!" [break][break] Ashanti, panicked, gave Elih a fleeting look of despair.
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notes when ash thinks elih can save her (dress)[break][break]elih kartal
there is something beautifully buoyant about mr crestwalker's voice, elih thinks, a laugh most charming. there is spirit enough in a single word that quite overwhelms, but elih doesn't hate it. the curve of his lips grows gentler, easier. it is possibly the most pleasant conversation he's ever had at any gala. past experience tells him that all this is something that looks absolutely divine from fifty feet away, but from five feet away looks like something much better viewed from fifty feet away.[break][break]
perhaps he is simply projecting, then, an overly rosy, desperate illusion for the few words that have passed between them. after all, he does not know what the other is thinking. it would not be the first time someone has smiled, and then ridiculed him not two breaths after. that is the nature of smiles; they come and they go.[break][break]
then ashanti speaks, bright and cheerful and beautiful and ( when she reaches her hand out reflexively for a handshake ) so tragically out of place; he stops breathing for a moment. curses himself for not seeing this possibility earlier. he should have taken into consideration a potential unfamiliarity with propriety, and promptly considers himself prodigiously stupid in failing to do to. this was not part of the plan![break][break]
( hamster, dryly: you didn't even have much of a plan to begin with. )[break][break]
a silent plea from his companion inspires a kind of recklessness; he inclines his head politely, and proceeds with an introduction of his own.[break][break]
"elih," he says, and hating the moment the words leave his lips, "kartal." his gaze lowers, unable to meet the man's eyes ( nor asha's ), suddenly painfully conscious of the cards he has just laid on the table. but he speaks anyway, words feeling like broken glass dragged across his throat; he had preferred being simply another nameless one of the crowd. the smile grows strained.[break][break]
have i always loved you? have i always known? / have i always loved you alone?
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Her mind was running on autopilot (she heard the whispered, frantic shouts of her tiny thoughts: may day, mayday) and as a result, her body was, too. When her hand went to tug at the hem of the first layer of her dress-with-too-many-tiers, it became quite plain that Ashanti was only a good looking girl- nothing more and nothing less. No nobler than the man who had sent her on this silly mission- or was that too much a play on words? [break][break] Mr. Crestwalker gives her a knowing smile. "Miss Ashanti, you look quite pale." But the fact that he had not refered to her as Lady De Vere revealed at once that the game was up- yet the man seemed perfectly fine with not saying anything at all about their sudden appearance nor their painfully obvious lie. "Perhaps you need a drin--" [break][break] Then Elih said his name and looked like quite a mess as he did. Mr. Crestwalker frowned. "Chin up young man. It's good to finally meet the son of the Kartals." His smile wrinkled the skin around the edges of his eyes, and seemed to shove a rain check down the tension's throat. All was now at ease. At least, it felt so. "Your parents should come to these gatherings more frequently, you know. And from the looks of it-- you should too!" [break][break]Asha breathed in and out-- she turned to look at Elih, uncertain if they'd accidentally started conversing with a saint and not the Mr Crestwalker the mission description had bade them to converse with. [break][break] "Ah...I think that's actually an old friend from university over there. We used to play chess together; I should really catch up. If any of you two see Sinclair around, tell him his taste in wine has certainly improved." He chuckled and began walking away. [break][break] Asha blinked- the man's charm was like a flash grenade. No wonder he was involved in politics (no wonder, a piece of her mind said, that someone was trying to ruin him). [break][break] She glanced at Elih, still half speechless herself. The party droned on about them. There were several things she had to say, but she didn't want to say any of them. She felt a sharp desire to rush out of the door and go home right now. [break][break]
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notes tbh idk pls tell me if u need more to work w 8( (dress)[break][break]elih kartal
the game is up, he thinks, registering the pointed 'miss ashanti' as a recognition of the flimsy lie. it was stupid, trying to spin a story on the spot. that kind of operation requires meticulous planning, researching, investigating -- not a word pulled idly from a novel he read long ago. then mr crestwalker speaks, addressing him this time, and elih, unbidden, feels the blood in his veins turn to ice.[break][break]
to someone else it might have not seemed as harsh, yet the words are sharp to begin with; elih jerks his head back up so quickly his neck protests, eyes wide, barely breathing, as if to do so would shatter the porcelain veneer of composure he has pulled over his features. even then, it is worn thin now, his eyes searching for any hint of anger or displeasure ( please don't scream at me please don't scream at me i'm sorry please don't ).[break][break]
he finds: none. he finds: a warm smile that chases away the tension. he finds: an absolute saint, that simply encourages him and his parents to frequent such gatherings. he does not find: his voice. at least, not so quickly. he only stares, blinks, glassy panic slowly melting away from dark eyes as he meets asha's uncertain gaze.[break][break]
but eventually, he does speak, just as the man is walking away, a nervous kind of gratitude underscoring quiet words. to his own amazement, he only stutters a little. "t-th-thank you, i'll be sure to let them know!" mr crestwalker takes his leave, leaving the two witches stunned in his wake.[break][break]
air floods back into his lungs -- he remembers to breathe -- but the walls, the crowd, are too much. "i need some air," he whispers, deflating, desperate, searching for the balcony. he takes off as quickly as he can manage, looping his fingers loosely around ashanti's wrist to tug her gently towards it as well, his grip hesitant, ghost-light.
have i always loved you? have i always known? / have i always loved you alone?
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[attr="class","posttext"] She felt sick to her stomach, like some part of her heart was being grabbed at by a grimey, sticky substance. For the past week, she'd been feeling like this alot. And she'd felt like this plenty of times before. But something about here and now, among the rich and beautiful, the feeling felt alien and doubly worse. Something said that the feeling wasn't natural, that she should suppress it and move along and grab a drink and dance instead. She had a feeling that something was what was clawing at the back of her throat.[break][break]
Elih's deflated plea sort of spins over her head, and all she does is mumur an untelligent "Huh?" as she is whisked away. There is no force behind Elih's tug, but Ash finds herself following anyway. She'd rather be wherever he was going than where he was not. Parties like this suffocated her, but for far different reasons than a lack of extraversion. [break][break] Eventually she sort of zoned back into reality and started walking, catching up to Elih's feather light strides with short, troubled steps of her own. She twisted her wrist out of his grip as gently as she could and then proceeded to grab his arm with both of hers, cheerful face darkened to reflect the conflict that was boiling up inside her.[break][break]
When they reached the balcony, the night air greeted them. Autumn was carried in the wind. Asha finally pulled herself away from Elih so she could stare down from the balcony instead. The building looked like a castle, and the starry night looked like an artist's canvas-- but she did not feel wonder nor appreciation. [break][break] "Why do people do stupid things like this?" She asked, and she could only hope the darkness would hide the pout on her lips.
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notes tbh idk pls tell me if u need more to work w 8( (dress)[break][break]elih kartal
he breathes: barely, lightly, shallowly, like there’s a silver knife-point held against his sternum and anything more would make him bleed. he breathes: forcing himself to, because now he’s dragging ashanti along and he can’t just break down halfway ( there’s a drum of words in his mind, hissing, useless, carving curses along the shell of his ears. ) he scarcely notices when he no longer has to tug ashanti along, perceives the grasp on his arm like how one would hear words through water.[break][break]
they reach the balcony, and the cold air stings his lungs. he keeps moving until he reaches the bannister, gripping its edge so tightly his knuckles turn white, grounding himself in the feeling of smooth stone beneath his palms. the night sky stretches above them, infinitesimal perfect darkness, and he feels so very small and stupid.[break][break]
"why do people do stupid things like this?"
[break]
he stares back out at the grounds below, focusing on white clean-cut lines of building edges until his vision blurs. elih wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, turning ever so slightly to the side to regard asha. “do what, asha?” a tremulous breath. he finds his voice, quiet and shaky.[break][break]
“throw big fancy parties? hire witches to spy on their rivals? pretend to be someone they aren’t? spend an eternity lying to themselves and saying that they’ve gotten better but! when faced with the slightest reminder, break down into some goddamn useless--”[break][break]
he stops. “i’m sorry, i shouldn’t talk like this. you did nothing wrong-- you were great! i just-- maybe i wasn’t ready to get back into all this just yet. i’m sorry.”
have i always loved you? have i always known? / have i always loved you alone?
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[attr="class","posttext"] There is a sort of savagery she does not sense, the kind that so many people hide it ends up coming out of the familiar's mouth instead of theirs, or in sudden dark glance or the breaking or porcelain pots. Asha's eyes are wide with fear as she feels the full force of the landmine she has stepped on-- but like all madmen she does not attempt to turn away or put the pieces back together. [break][break] When it comes to bombs and people, the best thing you can do is keep them safe and pick them apart, one gentle aggressive poke at a time. [break][break] "No not really...that's exactly what I mean, ahahaha." The laugh melts into the atmosphere- the music melts to the background and her heart finally soothes itself. "I tell that to myself all the time." SHe ignores the last part of what he says-- she'd been great? Give her a break. She'd gone through enough failures to send any idiot packing for home to the Metropolis. But she was a special kind of stupid, and she supposed in his own way, Elih was too.[break][break] "Telling myself I'd go back when I was ready, making more excuses to run away. Fulfilling my own dumb prophecies--" her heart beats faster. For once the words catch in an invisible net between her lips. Her mouth hands open for a second before it presses closed. "I think it's okay. I think...we all change at our own pace. And whatever that is, even if we're slower than snails at realizing...it's better than people who don't change at all. A self-fullfilling procephy is better than living someone else's."
She did not even know what she was saying. She did not know what Elih was going through, but she realized that she had been desperately searching for someone to say this too. And perhaps he had been looking for the same. "Don't be sorry!" her voice is sharper than she intends it (or perhaps not sharp enough) and then her eyes melt away quickly. "It's not your fault this mission is...is...." [break][break]Is what?
he regrets everything he’s said -- regrets opening his mouth in the first place -- as soon he registers the look in asha’s eyes, takes a step back towards the banister ( he hadn’t realised he had moved in the first place ) and returns his gaze outward. stares back across the expanse of the estate as if it would help him; it does, but not as much as asha.[break][break]
it helps, despite everything, despite the knot in his chest that makes it hard to breathe, despite the atlas burden of self-imposed expectations and self-loathing he carries on his back. not that that weight goes away -- it’d never be that easy -- but it eases, for the slightest second, to the point where it’s not pressing down on his lungs and suffocating him. that kind of thing takes time and, he thinks, he has that. probably. there is a gulf uncrossable between him and that dream, between him and any sort of acceptance. and, looking back at asha, voice sharp but eyes softer, maybe he’s just been given a raft; a chance.[break][break]
for a moment, there are words unspoken, held in a level gaze; then gratitude melts into two almost imperceptible words: “thank you.”[break][break]
"it's not your fault this mission is...is...." he blinks, huffs a shaky laugh, keen to not dwell on the momentary breakdown any longer. the mission takes precedence over indulgent introspection; he switches his focus to the aristocracy rivalry they have at their hands.[break][break]
“...is a mess?” he finishes, tentatively, giving the room inside a cursory glance once more. “i mean, i don’t think mr crestwalker is as bad a guy that mr sinclair makes him out to be.”
have i always loved you? have i always known? / have i always loved you alone?
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Elih's response is hesitant and hardly eloquent, but she can't help but chuckle at it. A mess. That was, if nothing else, wholly accurate. And it summed up all of the words they had not said. She followed his glance back to the room- she thought she caught the deep maroons of Sinclair's tailcoat flutterby. Two men walking in a circle, one read to do whatever he needed. [break][break] Yeah, she was tired of beating around the bush. Her face had turned to a dull pout at Elih's words. "He's practically a saint! And let's be honest here. It's election season. How could he even think of hiring witches to do the impossible. It doesn't even make sense, it's just petty!" Ashanti seemed actually angry- this wasn't behaviour she'd seen a lot of before (and even when she had, she had ended up ignoring it. but right now, after that, she'd feel like a criminal for leaving the unsaid unsaid). [break][break] And then there was a soft but audible thunk that came from their left, like the muffled sound of something (or someone) falling. Her passionate plea now paused, she blinked and looked at Elih instead. Had he heard it, too?
his gaze lingers momentarily at the figures beyond the balcony door, uncertain at what he’s exactly seeing, though it seems innocuous at first for now. thin glass separates them from the world, the chaos of silken fabrics and gilded words that govern such an event. “i rescind my words then,” he says, quick to remember the lack of biting words, the gold-painted smile every bit as warm and forgiving as a late afternoon sun. a nod, conciliatory and short, is all he has to offer at her rising incredulity at the situation.[break][break]
he sympathises. he truly does. the more he thinks about it, the more he regrets not doing something -- anything! -- earlier. elih is hardly a stranger to the more underhanded dealings of upper society, especially given the family circumstance. there had been a period of his life where he had contended with scandalous rumors and shameless accusations on a basis painfully regular; he had dealt with that by shoving it behind three inches of near soundproof glass and simply turning away. out of sight, out of mind.[break][break]
( looks back at the balcony windows, hesitates. is that what he is doing right now? )[break][break]
but he can’t, not after meeting mr crestwalker face-to-face, not after recognising something ( someone ) worth protecting in this hellhole of a place. he hears it when asha does, silence falling between them sharp and sudden in the wake of that suspicious thunk.[break][break]
“what--” he turns and spies a light, dim and almost imperceptible if not for the rest of the windows being drenched in darkness. elih tries to remember what he had been told when entering; a frown, eyes narrowing. “correct me if i’m wrong, but guests aren’t supposed to be in that building, are they?”
have i always loved you? have i always known? / have i always loved you alone?
[attr="class","posty"]
[attr="class","posttext"] She felt it grow, like some kind of second head-- the sensation of anger and frustration that she had been ignoring for so long. Why was everything so dumb and unfair? And why had she-- why had she been putting these thoughts aside for so long? Why had everyone...why had anyone? [break][break]She blinks dumbly at Elih. "You what?" Ashanti has no idea what he's talking about, but she's somehow grateful that his strange comment has pulled her out of her thoughts. Somehow, she feels, she wouldn't have liked whatever conclusion that was leading up to. [break][break] But it was a tad too late for him to answer that, as both their thoughts became occupied by a single question: what was that? She saw it, too. The movement behind the window panes, the rush silhouettes. Someone was there, in the building's west (east?) wing. [break][break] "There's nothing to correct," Asha said, her voice hanging over the atmosphere like a cloud of dim anticipation. (Strange, when had she been capable of such a tone?). She looked at Elih, and a million thoughts flooded her mind at once: perhaps there was something going on... perhaps Mr. Crestwalker was up to something dangerous... or, far more likely--- [break][break] No. She had to believe in the best. No one deserved those kinds of assumptions being lobbed at them. [break][break] And yet. She pulled up the edges of her dress and dashed out of the balcony, scanning the large hall for an arcway that might take her where she wanted to go. [break][break] Please let me be wrong about people for once...[break][break]
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notes missin impossible music plays (dress)[break][break]elih kartal
