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 May 26, 2018 13:25:46 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
he exchanges another weighty look with his familiar, the fireforged blade rippling in his hand as he does so. potentially ridding the garden of the so called 'nice creatures' is... not quite the determent his sister might think it to be. still, he refrains, for the simple fact that he very much doubts mrs powell would be impressed to find a graveyard of ashes and dust where a garden used to lie.
"i will be careful," he says instead, the corner of his lips quirking up.
returning to the methodical task of hacking through the jungle of grass, kasimir studies the progress they have made and the progress they have yet to make, and estimates a long day ahead. "do you think it would be overkill to summon an antronach or clone to help us?" he muses, extending the length on his blade of fire so as to cut a wide arc. he trails sizzles in his wake, embers glowing and dying to reveal a newly shorn lawn.
his summoned sword feels right in his hands, and it is not long after that be abandons the blade found in the gardening shed for the one solely of his own making. there is... an inherent amount of history and remembrance every time he picks up a sword, every time he dances - even when all he is doing is hacking through a tangle of weeds. but this history is not his alone; quietly, carefully, not looking at saskia, he murmurs, "you know, fire is not the only element out of which a blade can be created."
and left unsaid is everything else: mother and father and krystian, home and family and immaterial legacies that are the only legacies they still have left.
Post by saskia burovski on May 26, 2018 14:04:55 GMT
though the siblings make hefty progress between them, armed with weapons of their own creation or by the newly-discovered armory in the shed, the overgrown garden is a formidable foe. still, saskia tries not to let the daunting task ahead dampen her mood. the day is beautiful, the sky is clear, there is a mild breeze that sways the grass and ruffles luci's fur in a manner that makes her look far fluffier than usual.
"would you let that stop you, though?" she chimes back, thoughtful. she has never once objected to any display of magic; it is always fascinating and inspiring, if one were to try to give words to the feeling of heart-swelling soul-singing electricity running wild through her veins. saskia pauses a moment to shrug lightly, while luci looks over in undisguised anticipation at the mere suggestion of an idea. "i mean, i'm definitely not gonna say no."
to the reminder, she says nothing, as she often does. perhaps one day she will talk about it, perhaps one day she will speak her mind freely and perhaps she will let the poison flow from her fingertips like poetry. today, though, she holds it close to her chest, keeps the ghost of a mirrored soul alive in the disembodied planes of her memories. she looks at the scythe grasped tight as she returns to the task at hand, turns to kasimir with a smile brilliant bright and says, "one day."
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on May 26, 2018 14:24:54 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
"it probably should," he responds dryly, though he cannot suppress the gleam of humour dancing through his eyes. 'probably should' has, perhaps too many times, been equated to 'no' for kasimir, and he has somehow spent half his life attaining 'overkill' where he should have reached for stealth. there is some terrible irony in the juxtaposition of his job as an assassin and his skillset of fire and summoned destruction, and he honestly does not know how he got here.
perhaps, then, it is inevitable that he gives in ( not that there was much of a dilemma in the first place ) and gathers his mana, pools it in his palm and shapes it into a spell, a call; from the earth and air, an antronach shapes itself into being, held together by the weave of magic that breathes it into life. kasimir summons another in the next breath, then sets them free; the two constructs drift into the garden and begin slicing through the foliage with the single-mindedness of purpose.
he looks on, satisfied. that should speed things up.
to his sister, he looks, softens, smiles ( though his, perhaps, is two shades more wistful and a magnitude less bright ). "one day," he agrees, and it is more a promise than mere consensus, an oath; it is the promise for a legacy that he is not fit to bear but saskia, beautiful shining saskia resplendent with determination and purpose and strength, she is so much more than the world regards her to be and one day he will watch as she strides into the light to seize the day and he will be so proud it hurts.
Post by saskia burovski on May 28, 2018 6:37:33 GMT
it never ceases to amaze, this magic of his. one moment, the air is still and empty, the space simply blank. then, she blinks, and there stands not one but two impossible creatures, beings of pure energy and magic given form. they brush past her and head into the grass, and saskia turns slowly to survey their motions, a faint smile of amazement curling the corners of her lips upwards. she wonders if she should ever try her hand at summoning. first, though, augmentation. it is a path she has chosen for herself, a practice in self-mastery beyond all else. because surely, if she achieves such control, then she need not rely on the charity of others as much. goodwill is a terribly flimsy thing, she knows as much.
but before even that comes the task of gardening. she turns back to the scythe and the area she has cleared out, venturing a little deeper into the undergrowth to continue her work. and so continue she does, until there's a odd flicker of movement to her right and she pauses, curious. saskia turns, slowly, cautiously, luci peering over her shoulder into the shade of some low-hanging boughs. there, four pairs of beady eyes glint at her, lined up in perfect symmetry. oh.
she takes one step back, then another. the malevolent eyes seem to follow her every move, solidifying the moment as one where saskia decides this one spider is not worthy of a high-five. "um, hey?" she calls out, unwilling to take her eyes off the spider. "i don't really want to say hi to this spider."
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on May 28, 2018 6:51:22 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
the garden slowly, slowly begins to take shape as something recognisable, something more fit for human occupation than the enchanted jungle that it had previously been. another clump of grass falls to the fire of his blade, another bundle of foliage burning in kirjava's wake. 'this is rather good stress relief,' she comments, flashing her claws and forging on ahead. 'if not for the oversized creatures, you mean,' he replies drily.
speaking of oversized creatures. kasimir looks up in immediate concern at saskia's voice, and doubly so at the mere mention of a spider. he is already halfway across the garden to get to her side when he is beaten to the point by one of his summoned atronachs. it glides across to his sister, wind and stone and swirling magic, and proceeds to launch a rapid series of wind slices at the spider.
said spider shrieks and scurries about in an attempt to avoid decapitation, and it is truly giant, by the gods why does it even exist; but his atronach is nothing if not persistent and as fierce as the wall of a storm. it pursues the arachnid, chases it around the garden until a final wind slice shreds it into two halves. ( in an unintentionally helpful side effect, a good portion of the too-long grass has also been cut by any wind slices that had missed, albeit in a ragged and uneven fashion. ) and, threat eliminated, the atronach returns to its peaceful culling of foliage.
"are you okay?" kasimir asks after a brief pause, green eyes intent and concerned. she is unharmed, he knows, he thinks, but he needs confirmation. needs to hear it from her.
Post by saskia burovski on May 28, 2018 7:00:21 GMT
she lets out a squeak as the spider suddenly darts for her, but it is truly too far to do her any harm. an atronach catches it before she truly has time to react, magic swirling into a furious storm as luci gently clamps her jaws around saskia's forearm and tugs her further back. from a safe distance, she watches the short-lived fight, the atronach and giant spider in a game of curious cat and mouse until finally, the arachnid meets its messy death, along with the added side benefit of some additional grass chopping. by this time, the fear has faded once more, replaced only by awe and fascination. terror has always been a short-lived emotion for saskia, though not by any means of true bravery.
"i'm okay," she confirms, giving him a cheery thumbs up. "thanks!"
luci, on the hand, gives a long-suffering sigh and turns to kasimir, her expression exasperated as if to say, see what i have to deal with all the time?
saskia pays this wordless insinuation no heed at all. instead, she moves towards the uneven lengths of grass left in the atronach's wake and sets to neatening them up with broad, smooth strokes of the scythe. she's getting used to it.
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on May 28, 2018 7:16:50 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
he lets out a breath of relief at her confirmation, the tense line of his shoulders slackening, grip on his sword loosening from its previous white-knuckled grasp. kirjava, too, slinks to kasimir's side to execute her own up-down health check with eyes like smokey-gold lamps before nodding in satisfaction. "take care," kasimir tells her in response to the thumbs up, but even he knows the futility of repeating himself again.
saskia will do what saskia will do, and he loves her for it, but it is beyond his capabilities not to worry for her. catching luci's eye, he shoots her a commiserating look. "i feel you," he mutters in an undertone before returning to his own work.
the grass is very nearly cleared now, shorn to a reasonable length that will no longer serve as a hiding place for oversized creatures and terrifying spiders, for which kasimir is grateful of. the trees are also beginning to take shape into something resembling less a scribble from a two-year-old translated to leaves and branch, and more like something actually tree-shaped - though perhaps slightly lopsided. kasimir has never claimed to be a good gardener, after all. there were also some dense webbing between some of the branches, of which kirjava burned with extreme prejudice, and the remains of an old swing discovered under a large mound of leaves.
but overall, he can see the finale take shape, a garden presentable again if not quite exactly neat. "just a bit more, i think," he calls out to saskia, trimming down the hedge. hopefully, hopefully there will be no last-minute surprises.
Post by saskia burovski on May 28, 2018 7:56:47 GMT
luci continues to hover by her shoulder, keeping an eye out for any remaining unwelcome guests, but her watchful eyes find none for now. saskia, on the other hand, is diligently focused on her task of polishing up this final patch of grass, as well as smoothing out a section of the hedge to something more presentable. at one point, she does find another set of eyes from within the hedge itself, but these are feline in nature and friendly; one of mrs powell's several cats wakened from a late morning nap, she presumes. the calico cat meows softly and presses itself against her hand when offered, and saskia spares a good minute or so simply patting the cat before she returns to work.
"it actually looks like a garden now," she remarks, resting lightly on the scythe as she spins slowly to survey the area. the walkway to the main house is now actually properly visible albeit uneven, the shed's wooden exterior is now actually visible, and there's a small stone trail now visible on the ground that bisects the lawn from an area where flowering bushes could previously have stood. luci busies herself with hauling away piles of dead branches, of which prove too large for saskia to move on her own, while the witch walks beside her and offers encouragement.
eventually, the next time she looks up, the sun is reaching its peak in the sky, the pleasant morning weather giving way to a warm afternoon. "do you think we're about done?" she asks kasimir, raising a hand to shield her eyes as she performs one final sweep of the garden. they aren't skilled gardeners by any chance, but they didn't do too shabby a job, in her opinion. "i'd die for a cold drink right about now."
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on May 28, 2018 10:20:58 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
at this point, there is little to do save to trim and neaten all the raggedly cut edges; here, kasimir swaps his blade of fire back for the steel sword he had abandoned earlier - somehow, he has a sneaking suspicion that mrs powell would appreciate clean-cut foliage rather than slightly-charred remains. "i wonder how long it took for the garden to grow to such a state," kasimir muses, glancing at his sister. luci's fur glitters in the midday sun as the bear hauls offcut branches away into a pile in the corner, and kirjava adds to it with the leafy remnants of their gardening job.
he eyes the garden, eyes the grass that will no longer hide monstrous spiders, eyes the back row of trees that are now actually separate as opposed to one giant clump, eyes the shed that is no longer buried under a mass of ivy and blossom, eyes the path that had once been all but invisible. "i think we are done," he agrees. he moves to stand beside his sister, nudging her fondly. "i'm sure if you ask, mrs powell would be happy to provide a drink."
as if summoned by her name alone ( honestly, at this point kasimir is all but convinced their client has some sort of monitoring spell over the utterance of her own name, or is secretly spying on their progress somehow ), the old lady appears with monty and four cats in tow, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. "are we done, dearies?" she asks, looking around. "ah, a marvellous job! my, i should hire you for all my future gardening."
kasimir looks at their client in alarm - he really hopes she is simply joking, neither he nor kirjava would like any more encounters with giant snakes or spiders thank you - but before he can say anything, mrs powell is already turning to head back inside, gesturing for them to follow her. "come inside, dears. i baked some cookies, you can tell me about your adventures over a glass of cold milk."
somehow, kasimir does not think he will view gardening missions the same way again.