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 evander blythe on Feb 3, 2018 17:55:37 GMT
living good, living evil is the toss of the dice.
The pavement hinted shadow steps beneath Evander’s robes; a kiss of a silent lover unwilling to go nearer. He strode, quiet, deliberate, through the residential area of Sundial, cerulean gaze watching languidly against the darkness weaved through his hair, falling restless down his torso. Evander enjoyed a trip— took solace in both the pounding sounds of life in the air and in the whispered hum of a world awakening though not yet lively. His familiar, he could feel, pressed comfortably against his inner consciousness, though his presence was missed— simply a shadow in Evander’s mind and his mind alone. [break][break] They had agreed, after all, that it was best to keep the beast hidden; a warning should he materialize. [break][break] Daybreak succumbed to the morning’s dew as he moved, a tinge of amber lighting the sky overhead into a mosaic— a god’s world, if nothing else; oh, how Evander relished the mere idea of it. For a fleeting instant, a pang of longing ached along his spine, a longing to go instead and see the town for what it was— perhaps even travel outward, to Mirrorlight, if he so wished, before he waved the insignificance of the thought away with an imperceptible stroke of his hand. He had an assignment to fulfill, a job in which he supposed his Knight’s honor came to toy with him; a job which required his own ability to ward off danger to his employer. [break][break] At last, Evander happened upon the rendezvous point which had been established by the pair— when in reality the older witch simply had to arrive at the younger witch’s doorstep. He ascended the small array of steps before he reached the door, one elegant, slender hand raised against the wood as he rapped it with his knuckles, waiting patiently for the woman to acknowledge his arrival; idly, Evander pulled a pocket watch from his waistcoat, a pleased, ghost of a smile creasing his lips— he was even a small handful of minutes early.
Post by kaelin ó'coileáin on Feb 11, 2018 11:20:01 GMT
b
efore leaving the house, kaelin checks all her belongings one last time. skating equipment, keys, change of clothing, water, wand, money, food. check. kiska coils up from her place on her head like a tiara of starlight and ice and reminds her to take her coven trinket. "you're part of a coven now, remember?" in all honesty, she frequently forgets the fact at all, what with the number of hours she spends training and the sheer lack of time she spends with her fellow witches.
there is a knock on her door, quiet but firm; her gaze zeroes in on the wooden frame as she hefts her bag over her shoulder. that must be her hired bodyguard. it is, quite honestly, unnecessary for kaelin to require such security measures for such an average day, but her father's insistence is a powerful force. hopefully, this man will be pleasant to work with.
she turns the knob, a polite greeting on her tongue, only for the words to die in her throat as she takes in the sheer height of the man. kaelin blinks. kiska lightly scolds her regarding manners across their mental bond. she blinks again, then recovers, a small smile on her lips as she nods in greeting. "good morning," she says, stepping out into the crisp dawn air. "are you mr blythe? i am kaelin, and this is my familiar kiska. thank you for coming." she gestures towards her hair upon introducing her familiar, the tiny snake bobbing her head in a small bow before returning to where she might previously have been mistaken for a fancy hair barrette.
Post by evander blythe on Apr 5, 2018 19:39:27 GMT
living good, living evil is the toss of the dice.
The wind shifted loose strands brushing soft against pale cheeks as Evander stood there, serenity finding home in the beauty of a face unsure of how it is meant to be worn; it is only a fleeting pause in the day before the door swung open, revealing with every inch the witch to whom he was to protect. She was young, or appeared so, though he did not care much for her age, with a held breath once she saw him. [break][break] Evander, unphased through the stillness that had overtook them, merely looked back— an expectant, though patient glint in his eyes, waiting for the witch to collect herself. [break][break] “Good morning indeed,” he murmured with an easy smile, returning the gesture as though it were second nature; as though he had already sought comfort in company. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Kaelin— and Kiska, of course,” he continued, bowing his head in return to the small serpent perched upon its master’s head, crowning ice with a tiara just as cold. [break][break] “Shall we get a move on, then? I’d hate for you to run late.” Evander turned, an arm extending to their followed path in invitation for Kaelin to take her leave of the home, a pleasant air overtaking him— an aura, he hoped, would cultivate a benign day for the both of them.
Post by kaelin ó'coileáin on Apr 6, 2018 11:13:48 GMT
h
er first impression of their new hired bodyguard is that he seems kind. soft spoken with something gentle in his eyes, quiet and calm and placid like the stillness of a lake at dawn, until the stormy upheaval of trouble shows up wherein suddenly tranquility is traded for raging waves. kiska, silently forming her own opinion ( though it is one practically parallel to kaelin's ), privately wonders if it is sadness hidden in the line of his bearing.
but it is not the familiar's nature to pry, and kaelin is rather eager to reach the rink; the girl steps out into the crisp air with her bag firmly slung over her shoulder, locks the door behind her, and moves up to the man's side. up closer, their height difference becomes even more evident.
setting her feet along the already-familiar path towards the rink, kaelin shoots her hired bodyguard a rather apologetic smile. "sorry for the early hour," she says. it is still not quite day yet, the final streaks of daylily orange expanding to fill the sky while the sun prepares to arise. getting up at dawn is the norm for her and has been for a while, however she is aware the majority of the world sleeps in till much later, as evidenced by the completely empty streets.
"also, i'm... not sure if you're aware, but i don't really need a bodyguard," she admits, then adds with a cheerful, self-depreciating laugh, "i'm not that important." she has not even recieved a single threat or had an encounter with overzealous fans since arriving at sundial - both encounters which have happened before at her old home. "my father is a little overprotective though."
Post by evander blythe on Apr 6, 2018 19:36:21 GMT
living good, living evil is the toss of the dice.
Kaelin steps forward, the hint of light born from timid collapse of the night waning into day brushing a movement of gold between the cobbletones and the home windows; an announcement of new beginnings, as mundane as they could be— as ordinary they could pass through. Evander keeps pace, long legs withdrawing from the distance they are so accustomed to brave to ensure his presence beside the charge. [break][break] When Kaelin speaks, his eyes flicker and rest, with hinted amusement, across her face, though he did not turn to glimpse much more; he has learned that acknowledgment can be accepted in lieu of answer, though a small huff of laughter parted his jaw. “To say I am unaccustomed to ungodly hours would be a lie I’m not too fond of telling,” he reassures, sliding his cheek over to meet a partial image. “No need for apologies, there is no inconvenience.” He allowed a quaint upturn of lips at this, allowing space for budding familiarity; he has learned, once more, that the absence of trust can spell more disaster than not. [break][break] If Kaelin was expecting much of a reaction to her confession, Evander showed no glimpse of irritation; he would suspect paranoia, or fear, or cause for concern, but whisked away the thought as outside of his privileges, though he did let out a titter, though it held little message behind the sound. “Safety is important, and I am sure there is more to you than meets the eye— it’s not everyday a bodyguard is a necessity. Safety and care comes before all,” he returned, though pity was absent, and replaced with a tone that spoke only through consideration. [break][break] Evander had known the weight of self-value— or the lack thereof — too intimately to dismiss such things. [break][break] A father who extends love is a blessing of luck. The thought filtered, fleeting though jarring, and yet his tranquil state exhibited little shift toward neglect. [break][break] He forgoed comment, opting instead for a chuckle he hoped would be understood; despite his own father’s cruelty, he had found such a home in his youth; he could understand the gnawing of panic.
355 WORDS FOR kaelin ó'coileáin ― so tired but very much in a writing mood tbh
Post by kaelin ó'coileáin on Apr 20, 2018 14:45:35 GMT
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here is an odd formality to evander blythe’s words, with phrasing and syntax that would not be out of place in a nobleman’s court - but there is kindness, too, and a quiet underlying cordiality that manages not the be patronising. the hint of a smile that touches his lips softens his face, his eyes; she relaxes a little more to the protection he offers. already, she thinks she might like him.
“still.” she shrugs slightly, a wry smile quirking her lips, then looks at the man in curiosity. “you get up early often, too?”
it is not that she expects her bodyguard to react negatively to her confession - the people whom her father regularly hires operate by the mantra of better safe than sorry on even the best of days - but mr blythe’s easy acceptance soothes a worry she had not even realised she had been feeling. perhaps it is a response to moving away from home, to finding herself in an unfamiliar city with no friends nor acquaintances to call her own, to being so suddenly and starkly confronted with her own mortality and the insignificance of her life-
kiska’s soft tug on their familiar bond draws her wandering thoughts back to the present; she blinks twice in rapid succession, trying to re-find her mental equilibrium. her beautiful familiar, thankfully, responds to the man before a lull in the conversation can become awkward. “far better to be over prepared than to find yourself in need of a bodyguard when you don’t have one, am i right, mr blythe?” kiska interjects brightly from her perch in kaelin’s hair.
what the tiny snake does not mention is the weighty melancholy she thinks she sees flash through the knight’s eyes; again, she is struck with the impression that the man before them bears much sadness on his shoulders. perhaps she is wrong. perhaps she is overanalysing. but experience with kaelin’s quietly bleak moods and silent periods of overwhelming grief has taught her much in what to look for, what to read; her witch is not the only one who might need distracting, she thinks.
