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.
when she was younger, she used to beg her mother to take her to the gardens. it was long before thistle had first manifested, back when her only companions were her pens and charcoals. she loved watching the birds the most and for a while, most of her sketches were of outstretched wings, talons open wide to grasp the nearest branch.
now, all these years later, she sits at a stone bench hunched over her grimoire. it's of her own design, unnecessary as some would say, but she's poured her heart and soul into it. the careful illustrations are fringed with haphazard notes written with ink and quill feather. currently, she's transcribing one of her scrolls onto a new page in the grimoire, framing stages of the incantations with half-sketches that she'll finish when she feels more focused.
people mill about the outward halls. it's usually quiet around here; most come and go quickly with the sole purpose of reporting for missions or getting updates on the coven's current ongoings. and then there are some like her, carefree for the moment, using their time to study in one of the most tranquil places sundial has to offer.
she looks up from her book and wipes her bangs from her eyes. baby blues survey the gardens (a people-watching habit she'll never be able to shake).
GIVE ME ONE LAST KISS WHILE WE'RE FAR TOO YOUNG TO DIE
He does not take notice to her at first, his own face buried within the content of his book; blue colored eyes dancing across the words and thin fingers delicately holding tan pages within their place. It was when Avani makes mention of the strange girl of the garden, a gentle voice in the back of his mind and he soon tilts his head up to glance at the unfamiliar face. His gaze lingers a moment as he notices pale hair and striking eyes, while her sharp features complimented her looks well he is more compelled by the grimoire resting firmly in her lap, “Strange…” Basile murmurs under his own breath before eventually tearing his attention away, however, Avani stops him.
(You know, you should really socialize more. I’m sure it would be good for you.) She encourages with a delicate voice and he could nearly sense the smile in her words though he isn’t entirely convinced to take action.
She seems preoccupied, best to leave her be. He replies after a moment, his focus briefly turning towards the lush flowers of the garden in an attempt to be polite; he did not want to be caught staring. Yet, his familiar continues to urge him despite his own protest.
(Sounds like someone I know. Go, take a chance.) The unmanifested kinkajou encourages, dedication laced in the tone of her voice. Avani had only his best interest in mind after all.
Basile hesitates for a moment though he lets their conversation drop with some reluctance, he knew Avani well enough to know that her persistence wouldn’t fade away with ease. He allows a small sigh to slip past pale lips, fingers moving to bookmark the page before he approaches the girl, “Excuse me.” He addresses at first, clearing his throat to announce his presence to her.
“Are you a student?” He asks after a moment, motioning his hand towards the grimoire; his eyes barely catching a glance of the intricate designs of the drawings alongside the words of spells he barely knew.
she has to take care not to absentmindedly doodle on the margins of the page. it's happened a couple of times before, forcing her to abandon previous versions that had been pre-bound with the pages unable to be removed. so she doesn't let her gaze linger too long on those around her, regardless of how interesting they may be. even the plants, flowering now in the season due to their slight protection against the elements, are vibrant and eye-catching.
but she returns to the task at hand, flexes her stiff fingers before she returns to her transcribing. she's only a few lines in when someone in front of her clears their throat. she draws her pen away from the parchment and looks up. "i--" she starts, clears her own throat and finishes with, "yes. i am."
she doesn't try to make it blatantly obvious that she's reading him, but she doesn't offer up anything more for a few seconds. thistle makes a mental note of his age, to which briar responds that anyone can start practicing magic at any age. but she doesn't want to make any assumptions about his rank, lest she face the possibility of embarrassing him.
so she follows his eyes instead and peers down at her grimoire. "oh, i know it's silly, but i like having all the information in one place. and i'm more of a...visual learner."
she bites her lip and flips it around to offer it to him. "you're welcome to look. just be careful of the inking here. it's still drying." a beat, and then: "what affinity do you study, if you don't mind my asking?"
GIVE ME ONE LAST KISS WHILE WE'RE FAR TOO YOUNG TO DIE
Basile refrains himself from grimacing when he senses the smug victory radiating from his familiar though she is nowhere to be found, he knows that she is settled in the back of his mind as he talks to the unfamiliar face; a polite smile resting on his lips as soon as she takes notice of him, “I didn’t mean to disturb you…” He begins, a moment of panic flashing across pale blue eyes though he is greeted with a wave of calm from the girl– interaction was a rather foreign concept to him yet he perseveres.
“It’s good to see some dedication, it’s not as common anymore.” He admits, the words falling from his lips with a hint of uncertainty laced in his voice. Basile doesn’t quite notice her stares though he does gather a feeling that something is off though he lets the feeling subside for now; his attention being directed towards the grimoire once more.
“I don’t find it silly.” Basile assures her though he seems to hesitate for just a moment when the grimoire is spinned around and offered to him; he notices the uncertain look flashing across her own eyes, “I’ll be careful, I would never go out of my way to destroy such perfect work.” He compliments, mindful of the placement of his fingers as he idly glances over the content of the page.
He is truly wonderstrucked when he takes notice of the carefully written words and the beautiful illustrations, a hint of disbelief nearly flashing across his face though his gaze settles onto her once more, “I remember being in your place, whatever helps does help.” Basile offers her yet another smile before it falters slightly at the question.
“Alchemy, yet at my age studying is never quite done with that.” He admits, however there is a fondness in his voice when he mentions it.
“I’m not too familiar with the spells of other affinities, but from the illustrations I take it that it could be transfiguration?” Basile raises a brow towards her, carefully offering the grimoire back into her possession.
"yes, i've noticed that," she says dryly. she's well aware of her coven's reputation. and while perhaps a majority of the rumors ring true for many of her peers, she hasn't had the luxury of living off of old money. no, she hasn't had to fight tooth and nail to keep herself off the streets, but her father's less-than-ideal economic standings have had a negative impact on her family's social status. not that they'd really ever been respected by the coven.
though she's come to trust this man with his calm demeanor (despite thistle's warnings in the back of her mind), she still sits on edge when he gingerly takes the sketchbook from her hands. she's learned from past mistakes; this one isn't bound yet, merely held together by strings of ribbon, but that doesn't make the pages on them any less precious. she's spent hours on the page he's currently looking at and starting over isn't something she was planning on doing today.
but as it turns out, and as she kindly points out to thistle, he's respectful and careful with her possession. when he offers it back to her, she takes it with both hands and sets it lovingly back into her lap. and she stares down at it then, thinking hard, because something he'd said had made her eyes light up.
an alchemist. "yes, they are," she says and lifts her head back up. "my artwork is special to me. when i started working with clay, well, i found myself wanting to push some boundaries, work a little magic in there, you know?" she smiles and then purses her lips.
"my name is briar, by the way. and if you wouldn't mind--" she shifts on her seat and gestures for him to take the spot of room beside her, "i would love to hear more about your craft."
GIVE ME ONE LAST KISS WHILE WE'RE FAR TOO YOUNG TO DIE
The tone in her voice seems to shift in a matter of seconds, careful words falling flat within their tracks at the mere mention of dedication and he’s almost curious to learn why the blonde haired stranger seems so scornful. He hums under his breath at the flood of thoughts though never quite makes a definite conclusion, it was never good to simply assume the thoughts or actions of others in the end, “But you have passion, perhaps you’ll inspire those around you to hold that same dedication.” He encourages, he didn’t want that unique light to fade away from her; perhaps it was because turmoil and work was all he had known, especially at his old mentor’s side.
Basile feels a sense of calm around the young stranger, polite and mindful with her actions like he is with his own; she nearly reminded him of his own past simply by glance– Avani senses the same. His grip is firm on the grimoire as he hands the unique work back to her, mindful of how loosely bound the pages were and the risk of them fluttering towards the ground was noted. She seemed to put quite a bit of effort in the work and did not aim to be the witch to destroy such a time consuming feat of work.
“Creative as well, I admire how you can combine both art and study together.” He admits, his gaze shifting towards the seat when she offers for him to sit down; he couldn’t prevent his smile widening at the kind gesture.
“Basile. Pleasure to meet you, Briar.” He returns the formalities, carefully taking a seat next to her and mindful of his own work as he settles the books down beside him. Basile is nearly settled in before surprise overcomes him when Briar mentions an interest, a light nearly flashing in his eyes.
“Of course, if you’re so certain.” He obliges soon after he gathers his thoughts, “Despite how common the craft is, I find the work a bit more complex. There are several components that makes an alchemist different, but similar to one another. I’m far more interested in the supportive aspects of the craft, while others are interested in cosmetics or mind altering love potions.” He explains, the words leaving him so easily; as if he was more than prepared to recite the passion he holds for his own work.
** In which Basile nerds out. These two are so great.
inspire others. hah. most of her work goes unnoticed. her diligence and efforts are outshined by the more prestigious tasks taken on by more capable members of the helios knights. her shrewdness with which she views the coven isn't with lack of reason, as most are aware, but still there's a certain pattern to her thoughts that points towards her feelings coming from somewhere deeper, more personal. she's content with completing her own work, with sticking to the quieter corners. she has no need for fame or glory; that does little to help others.
"thank you," she says, both at the compliment and at his return of her book. she places it gingerly in her lap, pinching the pages with delicate fingers. she really does appreciate their conversation, and his company. it only goes to show that there still are some in the helios knights that wish to make a difference, that are part of the coven for the right reasons. another warning bell, courtesy of thistle, goes off in her head, but she mentally laughs away the overly-cautious cat.
"the pleasure is mine." and then she listens intently to what he has to say, absorbing the passion in his words. her heart swells. transfiguration was something she was drawn to years ago, back when her art was more of a crutch, more of a necessity. but now that she's aged, she has slightly different goals. alchemy is something that's been on her mind for a while for, what it seems, exactly the same reasons as basile.
"i've heard it can be complicated and difficult to master. i've, mm, excuse me if i'm talking about myself too much, but i'm interested in the supportive side of alchemy as well. the healing bit." she wrings her hands together. "i want to do something useful, you know? i want to help people."
she jerks then as an idea comes to mind and turns to face basile more readily. "i have a proposition for you. and excuse me if i'm being too forward," she says with a smile. "i would love to design a grimoire of your own if you'll allow me to learn some of what you know about alchemy. we can work on them together." she bites her lip, blue eyes hopeful.
- - - basile roux when u get over losing ur post 3 million hours later
GIVE ME ONE LAST KISS WHILE WE'RE FAR TOO YOUNG TO DIE
He could sense the amusement from his familiar, well aware of the smile that would grace her earthy features had she been materialized at his side rather than concealing herself within the inner strata and it was that feeling that caused him to be conscious of his words; his passion temporarily falling short at his own abrupt change. His cheeks warmed at his own embarrassment, blue colored eyes glancing away for just a moment, “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to speak so suddenly about the subject…” He manages an apology when his gaze meets the other witch, yet he is greeted with a pleasant surprise from her instead.
His eyes seemed to widen at the expressed interest and it was only when she spoke in return that he noticed the enthralled expression on her face, how she had listened to his passionate ramblings of his own affinity, “I-It’s a branch of alchemy that most don’t prefer to travel down, but it is rewarding.” He admits with a small timid smile, his mind making note of their coven’s well known acolyte, Lunacea, and her own mastered skills with alchemy.
“The idea of assisting others in need was a reason as to why I was drawn to Helios Knights in the first place...” He admits with a small defeated sigh, well aware of the warped perspective some members seemed to have; how an honorbound code is pushed aside simply for greed. To him, that fate was a rather disappointing one to own.
Soon, Briar’s words coax him away from his troubled thoughts and his heart nearly stops at the proposition; memories of his childhood mentor and the hellish ways he had flooding his mind in a series of seconds. It was Avani’s sweet presence that calmed rattled nerves and he hesitates briefly before he could force out a reply; noticing hopeful eyes staring back at him, “I-I’m not well versed in teaching others, but I can try for you.”
you hardly know this man, thistle says, exasperated. she pays no mind to her familiar. basile is part of her coven and he shares the same ideals as hers. briar has never been one to really believe in coincidence. and besides, if thistle really did get a bad vibe from him, his grumblings would be worse than usual. no, she can tell even the cat is impressed with him. the man's softer demeanor helps as well.
"then i believe we're here for the same reason. i'm only one person, but i am trying to change the face of our coven. like you said, maybe with enough good deeds, we could have others follow suit." she's enthralled by the idea. and so she waits, ever more nervous as the seconds tick by and he thinks to himself. thistle, she can tell--despite his attempts to hide his feelings--nervously awaits his answer as well. and when he agrees to mentor her, she actually sighs. a corner of her mouth quirks into a smile, brightening her softer features.
"if it helps," she says as she taps her fingers against her grimoire, "we can think of it less as a mentor and an apprentice and more as a..." she hesitates, suddenly self-conscious. it's in this moment that she realizes this may be the first true interaction she's had with someone in her coven. the first time that she's tried to establish some sort of bond, a friendship. she's used to her books and her paintings and the quiet corners of libraries. and, briefly, she has a heartbeat-stutter-moment of fight or flight; her legs tense, fingers stop their tapping, and she craves her comfort zone, the solitary view from her balcony.
and then she finds her footing, swallows past the nervousness in her throat, and says much more confidently than she feels, "a friendship."
GIVE ME ONE LAST KISS WHILE WE'RE FAR TOO YOUNG TO DIE
The determination and enthusiasm that radiated from her was an interesting yet inspiring sight to witness especially with how fondly Briar spoke of their shared ambition, “Your passion and hope is truly contagious, but I do agree with you.” Basile admitted, his voice hushed and soft spoken; blue colored eyes glancing towards Briar for a moment.
It was not hard to notice his newfound student's soft features brighten upon his acceptance to her offer, how pent up worries slip past her lips in a simple sigh. Thoughtful and brightminded, her analysis towards the situation impresses him further when she catches his doubts; when she can sense his concern, “Friends? That would be far more rewarding, I would like that.” He replies after a moment, thin fingers idly running over the spine of his book. Yet, despite the change of proposal he can still feel the fear eating at him slowly though her words did help.
“I suppose since we agreed to this, we should decide where our lessons take place…” His words are slow and careful when he speaks, not quick to make a suggestion; mindful of the comfort of his student– his friend. His idle movements stop, hands now resting upon his lap as he nervously awaits her response. Basile was unsure if this was the correct way to approach their new situation and was nearly concerned that he was only making a fool of himself.
