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 rozália katona on Feb 2, 2018 19:06:19 GMT
i'm fired up and tired of the way that things have been.
Rozália stood, back pressed to a wall kissing the cold through the fabric of her pantsuit, aching to draw a shiver against her pale flesh; an apple cupped neatly into the supple grip of her palm, slender fingers coiled, carefully, precisely, as a mother would press her newborn to her chest for comfort. The fruit was bruised with the merciless clip of a jaw, torn apart and glared upon by wilted shamrock eyes, leaving and heavying the weight of its remains as it toppled upward and downward in an uncaring basket of skin. The witch could not help but see herself in the wounds, a battered and bitten woman with hardly any good to her name; with this thought, frustration mounted her back, it’s hiss flying into her ears as it cooed to her. [break][break] It burst, in a fire with no forgiveness, as Rozália unleashed the dragon kept in slumber in the barring of her ribcage, watching the blackening of salvation die in her very arms. [break][break] She thought, for a moment, if this was how she was supposed to perish, before a cynical turn of half a lip dismissed the thought as soon as it came; dragons never succumbed to the flame, after all. [break][break] And yet, with her distraction withered and useless from her onslaught, she looked elsewhere for amusement, before her eyes caught sight of a familiar figure — one she allowed herself to enjoy thoroughly rather than sharply throw them away. She couldn’t help but want to approach him, to hone that which she had already learned but, she concluded, it would be best for him to come to her; she would hold the power there, she knew— she always did. She threw him a pointed look, one which beckoned but with no sort of desperate need; in this moment, she wondered if she had made herself clear to him, but this was to be known in due time.
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Feb 3, 2018 7:04:18 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
there is little joy to be found among the twisted corridors of hireling's keep, sibilant whisper of snakes hushed in the corners and the gleam of eyes watching everyone, everything. there is little to indicate comfort within the stone-spire walls, cool beneath feet and bare skin without the golden kiss of summer sun. there is little to desire in this den of serpents, hidden motivations and ambitions twisting behind pretty, coy smiles.
there is little hint of home, but home it is.
kasimir slips between the loitering people with silvered crests on their chests and greed in their eyes, trained stealth and swiftness ensuring that he has long since breezed past before his identity may register. there is, thankfully, a rather overabundance of silvertongues with crimson for their hair such that his own does not mark him for attention like it does everywhere else - a strange turn of circumstance, certainly, but hardly unwelcome.
then, a flicker of flame catches his eye; he looks up in time to see a familiar redhead with a rapidly-burning apple in hand, jade green eyes catching his with a beckon in their depths. kasimir blinks in mild bemusement, but nevertheless makes his way over.
"rozália," he greets with a small dip of head. he does not voice his next question out aloud, but it is there in the tilt of his head, the green of his eyes - 'was there something you wanted?'
Post by rozália katona on Feb 3, 2018 18:35:11 GMT
i'm fired up and tired of the way that things have been.
Smirk stretched to a languorous smile as Kasimir approached; perhaps her cue had served its purpose as she’d intended; of course it did, she mused, it’s a honed art. As she averted her gaze to the fruit succumbing to its ashen fate, slipping through her fingers as river water, she brushed her hands of the debris and rose her eyes once more to meet those of whom she was seeking. [break][break] “I suppose my message served its purpose,” she tittered, her hand fluttering for a moment to cast a stray hair from her eyes. Despite his greeting, she read the look of his features; perhaps a bit skeptical and expectant of what she had requested his presence for; her uncanny ability of reading others could not help the training it had gone under— what with the jobs she associated with and her own practiced affinity. Once more breaking her contact with his visage, her sharp eyes surveyed the area; she wasn’t one to fall victim to Hireling’s Keep and it’s culture, not easily. “I figured, maybe, you could use a… friend. You almost died, I’ve heard; besides, perhaps a small sparring session could do the both of us some good. Take the edge off, if you need it— or talk of things, but I’m not the best at comfort.” She did not include her knack of support when listening to people’s struggles, people she cared enough for to elicit an emotion similar to empathy and care. [break][break] Throughout her exchange, Amirani peeked behind her back, sharp legs digging carefully against their master’s shoulder blades before their own eyes rounded her neck, watching Kasimir with perhaps an air of curiosity and disinterest mixed into one creature.
283 WORDS FOR kasimir burovski ✨ ― ah sorry it's kind of crap but here you go; also, i'm pretty sure this takes place after suixitium...
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Feb 4, 2018 14:04:16 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
she smirks in that lazy, languid way he would instantly be wary of were it on anyone else, but on rozália it serves only to incite the exasperated fondness he feels so often in her presence. perhaps it is a defect in his survival instincts - his fellow redhead may not be ranked highly within their coven, but he would be a fool to deny the danger she poses - however he has long since resigned himself to this odd relationship between them.
( the apple, now reduced to ashen dust slipping between her fingers and vanishing into the crevices of the stone floor beneath their feet, should be a warning to be on guard, to make his polite excuses and slip away. )
( stoically, and somewhat fatalistically, kasimir remains where he stands. )
"rumours of my demise have been highly exaggerated," he deadpans. to be quite honest, the rumours would never know how truly close he had come to dying that day - not that there are many people gossiping about him ( that he knows of, anyways ). kasimir is, after all, hardly the most social witch within their coven, and novice is still an average enough rank that he would not be gaining attention on that front.
he fixes the witch before him with a pointed stare, though warmth that filters through leaf green eyes like sunlight through foliage. "a sparring session," he repeats dryly. "you mean, an excuse to burn down the training ground." and also the codespeak for persuading kasimir to show her more fire techniques. he looks at her impassively for a long moment, before giving up any delusions he had possessed about refusing.
"very well," he says, the familiar mix of exasperated fondness back in full force. kasimir inclines his head. "lead the way."
Post by rozália katona on Feb 4, 2018 21:24:24 GMT
i'm fired up and tired of the way that things have been.
“Mm, yes— that’s a bit of a pattern,” Rozália tittered, gaze trained on the leftover ash of her fingertips; why the flames brought beauty to her spirit she could not know, though she surmised it had to do with her own family’s destruction of all that she had known in life before she made the mistake of pushing too far, becoming too much of a hazard— a flame difficult to control. [break][break] “I guess people are just getting bored of the same old stuff over and over again; besides, it’s not everyday a witch experiences a brush with death and comes out… relatively unharmed.” She eyes Kasimir for a moment, eyes narrowing the slightest bit before a spark lit in her gaze— one of delight and reassurance. “You are alright, aren’t you?” she murmured, though her voice seemed almost listless, as though she had been meaning to inquire but never allowed the chance. [break][break] Surveying the area, Rozália beamed at Kasimir’s words, turning back to him with a devious look, clasping her hands together in ill-concealed excitement. “Of course, my dear Kasimir! What’s the fun in playing things too safe— a little excitement goes a long way,” she said, letting out a bark of a laugh; all in good-nature, of course— she had no problem with her fellow witch, there was no need to be difficult. [break][break] Tapping her index finger against her cheek— a rhythm of one, two, three, pause — before she lit up once more. “I know a decent place… I suppose it’ll minimize the damage.” [break][break] With that, she broke away from Kasimir and gestured, exuberantly, for him to follow, raising her hand to Amirani’s ashen head, cooing to the scorpion while her mood remained airy.
286 WORDS FOR kasimir burovski ✨ ― the posts will be longer when the sparring starts tbhtbh
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Feb 5, 2018 9:58:39 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
"people should learn to mind their own business," he responds dryly, knowing full well the futility of that statement. this is silvertongue, where mercenaries reign, where information can be as valuable as gold, where people would not know how to respect the need for privacy if it struck them across the face. and rozália is hardly incorrect. the strangeness of the situation in which his injuries had come to be, and his seemingly rapid recovery would be mysterious enough to incite curiosity - and hence gossip.
he softens imperceptibly at her question, hearing past the flippant tone to the words beneath. "i am fine," he answers. and that is even the truth - time has passed enough for most of his physical injuries to heal; sleepless nights and restless thoughts are hardly something of concern. it is not even as if it were a new affliction - merely an increase in frequency.
watching the redheaded witch's enthusiasm with a deadpan expression, kasimir lets the wry light in his eyes convey all he has to say. "i would rather not have to explain to our superiors a rebuilding effort is necessary," he says - but both of them know he is not objecting, not really. with the slightest hint of amusement quirking the edge of his lips, kasimir inclines his head and follows after his fellow silvertongue.
