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.
Weekends were always nice. There was nothing better than setting aside 4 days’ worth of completed assignments aside wit ha wrist flick of triumph, before waddling along to pick up a large tightly packed duffel and slamming the door to his room on his way out. As Aiden usually accustomed of doing, he was staying the weekend over at his grandparent’s home. Better than sitting at the Emerson family mansion and continuing the weekday cycle of irritation that usually affected him when in that building.
His grandparents home was nice; small but very homey. It was always warm, even in the middle of winter. They always kept a bed ready for him to drop by on any occasion. He often wished he could do more for them. Still, they had gotten along for decades without him, and they would continue to get on with him. That’s what they assured him at least. But they were right. While he wasn’t sure if his grandparents had ever been seriously involved in their respective covens, the Cunningham’s had always been stable. Somehow. He didn’t question it.
Thought of his home made him quicken his pace, and he found himself practically running towards the hovel. McKenna had materialized, following at his heels eager to race him. Not that he could win, but she enjoyed the act of running. She was so good at it after all. He runs through alleyways and jumps over manholes as he takes the familiar path. McKenna teases him about how serious he looks but she knows he is hurting. Leaving home had not stopped being hard and every time he return it was like he was a piece of metal whizzing on his way to the magnet. Rosario and Macintosh Cunningham kept him grounded. His one stable moment amongst the chaos that was a teenager’s life.
Aiden calls out greetings to the familiar faces he passes before eventually finding his way up the stairs of his family’s home. McKenna slows down, eventually dissipating into mist as he arrives, the race is over. He doesn’t even knock as he knows he’s expected.
“Gran! I’m-”
He stops immediately, the sight of a stranger in his Granny Rosario’s living room both shocking and threatening. He feels himself bristling at the sight of a dark-haired man, imposing on his family. Aiden’s grip tightens on his strap, immediately going to the defensive as he glares at Gran’s guest. Rosario Cunningham’s animated expression doesn’t shift as she turns to her grandson after having handed off a small lemon triangle, Aiden’s favorite, a fresh hamentaschen. “Aiden! On time as usual.” She greets warmly before turning her head towards the kitchen, “Maccy! Aiden’s h-” A gruff yell and the clinking of china resounds back as the old fisherman toddles into the living room as well, a teapot and four small cups arranged on a platter. “I heard him!” he cuts off as he hands a fresh cup to the intruder. “Just the way you like it. I think.” Macintosh assures before setting down the platter and proceeding to hand Rosario her own cup.
She takes it with a nod before beckoning the younger redhead over. “Well don’t just sulk there! Come! Sit. Sit!” she demands as she beckons before pointing at the coach where there is space for him. Aiden drops his duffel bag on the floor with an audible thump before obeying, he eyes his grandparents for a flicker of doubt or some sort of sign for help, but they merely sip their tea and smile, happy to have company. Aiden then turns to Desmond and opens his mouth as he finally sits down, surly as he’ll ever be. “Hi.” A pause. “I’m Aiden.” He adds as he sticks out a hand for a shake.
Desmond didn't quite consider the old Cunningham couple as family. They were kind, of course, and they had taken him in for a considerable amount of time with no strings attached, and their little house was what he imagined a picturesque home should look like... but their actions had always seemed alien to him, and their home stifling. It was too neat. Too quaint. Like an illusion which could only hold its image for a short time. It was a nice dream, but it was not Desmond's place.
Even so, whether the couple realized it or not, they had saved him for a brief time, and the seer appreciated their kindness (even though he expressed this poorly).
He checked their futures occasionally to make sure their deaths remained from natural causes rather than something more sinister, and, on even rarer occasions, checked in on them in person, when he knew no one was tailing him or spying on him from afar. Today was the first time that someone else had shown up during one of these visits. He glances over the fiery haired teen, then briefly looks to Rosario to gauge her reaction. She knows him and calls him by name -- a name Desmond remembered from the couple's more recent stories of their grandson -- and so Desmond glances back to the approaching Macintosh.
The two always offered him warm tea, just like they did when he was still a young teen curled up on the street corner in the middle of winter. Desmond always accepted it, even if it was a flavor he didn't particularly like.
As the seer blows gently on the surface of the drink so he doesn't scald his taste buds, the teen introduces himself, extending his hand. Desmond supposes he should play nice with the Cunningham's blood. He places the tea cup down and accepts the handshake. "So I've heard. I'm Desmond Grey." Even if Aiden hadn't heard of him specifically, he would have likely heard rumors about the Grey family: an unsavory sort of people who tended to use their natural divination abilities to further their own ambitions. They had a reputation for being selfish and sly, and Desmond fit the stereotype quite stunningly.
He doesn’t like him. The revelation of the name earns Aiden’s immediate distrust and rewards his previous suspicions. He’d been absolutely right to sulk at the fact that his grandparents had let someone so unsavory into their home. Grey? As in, like, the seers? Gods no. His hold is firm, and his stare is unwavering, but he lets go, harsh politeness forcing its way through because he was in front of his grandparents. As much as he wanted to snarl at the stranger, he would upset them if he did. It didn’t matter the reason. The had judged him worthy of entering their home and therefore Aiden couldn’t do anything about it. He feels Granny’s eyes on him and he produces more niceties for the sake of appeasing her.
“It’s nice to meet you.” He says coldly, glancing over at Rosario once more who sips her tea quietly, smiling to herself. Macintosh interrupts, now that Aiden and Desmond are formally acquainted. “He’s our serious boy. Got himself into the Helios Knights you know! And Lux University with the help of a sponsor or two.” He’s gushing out of nothing but grandfatherly pride and Aiden loves him dearly for it but he wishes he wouldn’t in front of the weird old man in their presence. Though, something tells him Desmond was already aware of his exploits if he had heard of him already. Macintosh just liked saying it out loud. Rosario did too, but to do so now meant to choke on scalding hot tea. “So, Desmond,” the ginger began as he ignored the flush of embarrassment that was his grandfather’s bragging of him. He picked up one of the lemon treats his grandmother had baked them and dipped it into his tea. “How do you know my grandpar-” He’s cut off before he can even finish as Rosario pipes up, her tone of voice affectionate. “Desmond is an old friend of ours, sweetie.” Aiden frowned, taking a bite out of the damp tart. The tartness of it mixing well with the blend of tea grandpa had served them. “I don’t remember you mentioning him.” He murmured, turning to look over at the man, unsure if it had been a passing mention of if something malicious was going on. “How’d you meet then?” the boy corrects, waiting for an answer from their guest.
"Mm, that's very impressive," Desmond notes neutrally as the excited couple gushes about their grandson's exploits. Of course the seer had heard these stories before, but interrupting the couple as they spoke about their greatest pride was an wholly unacceptable course of action.
The Cunningham's attempt to deflect the conversation away from how they met was certainly appreciated, but Desmond didn't think it pertinent to hide from a teen. The seer picks up his tea and sips it lightly. Its warmth was similarly appreciated. "In defense of your grandparents, I'd asked them to avoid speaking about me if they could help it," Desmond notes as he takes another sip. It was warm, and a rare comfort. Why this particular warmth offered comfort when most sources of heat offered none remained a mystery to him.
"They let me stay here when I was younger. I was a bit younger than you, and didn't have a place to stay at the time," the seer explains simply. Although it was truth, the gravity of their kindness and the full harshness of his past situation were removed from his explanation. But, as one final note, in an uncharacteristic expression of opinion he says: "You're very lucky to be part of their family."
[attr="class","wonwoo"] “Thank you.” Aiden utters softly still a little flustered but nevertheless, used to it. This was nothing compared to the week he’d chosen his coven. Despite the slight embarrassment, he keeps his eyes on the diviner who’s polite about the whole affair. Cool. Plus 2 points for Desmond. Desmond’s explanation makes him take pause, but he doesn’t think pushing the subject would get him anywhere. If he had asked them it was for a reason, and he had a feeling that was something he wouldn’t share willingly. Plus, he supposed it wasn’t important. Aiden cared more about the relationship he had with his grandparents, and if harm would come to them because of it. After all, Aiden couldn’t be here all the time anymore. He’d gotten busier. Even if he suggested that they move closer to the city center, they never would. This was their home. Only an idiot would try to remove them from it.
His critical stare softens as Desmond continued to explain himself. That’s so like them. Tough as they both were, his grandparents had so much heart to spare. “He used to be so small Aiden, you wouldn’t believe it now lookin’ at him.” Rosario comments with a laugh, happy that Desmond had since returned to them, if only briefly, looking far healthier than when they’d first found him. Aiden feels a small surge of pride though, as the man before him admits to how great his family was. Because they were. They deserved so much more than he could give them, and he was happy someone else could recognize that. “I am. Thank you.” He nods in agreement. “You boys are so sweet.” Macintosh says as he claps his hands together to rid his hands of any crumbs before taking his cup and sipping his tea quickly, now thirsty after shoving around 3 pastries into his mouth. He’d only stopped after ending up on the receiving end of a glare from his beloved wife. “I’m glad you got the chance to meet them, then.” Aiden pipes up. He can’t quite imagine being homeless. The minute his mother had passed, his grandparents had picked him right up. He’d never spent a night alone in his life until he’d left for the Knights. Now that the initial suspicion had been cleared up, he felt a bit more talkative. Weird reputation aside, he trusted in his family’s judgement. Desmond had made it, so he’d cut him some slack while he was here. He takes a drink from his cup letting the silence hang in the air of their tea party before speaking once more. “So, what do you do now that you aren’t homeless. I hope.”
"As is everyone at some point in their lives," the seer says, waving one hand dismissively at Rosario's comment. All humans had their years of youth (even if some were deprived of innocence) and their moments of weakness (even if they were already too battered for it to show). Desmond hopes that this new child under the Cunningham's care was in a situation where he could experience these vulnerabilities without fearing for his life. They deserved a less difficult kid than the younger seer had been.
Desmond sips his tea as boy notes his gladness. Desmond would have liked to express his agreement, but felt that such a response would have been ingenue, and certainly would have disrupted his drink. He didn't hate the couple -- no, on the contrary, they were too valuable for him to lose -- another target on his back to deal with.
And then he asks what Desmond does for a living. He imagined people wouldn't like it if he told the truth in reply to that query -- a torturer and blade for hire, a divine hint into the demise of his enemies. So, naturally, he had other answers prepared. "Don't worry -- this is a temporary visit," he assures the boy, a slight smile dancing (nearly formed, but never quite there) at the edge of his lips. "I have a comfortable place to call home, and I've been working as a consultant." He conveniently leaves out the part where this new home is not his own, and instead owned by an acquaintance he'd stabbed in the past, not to mention a few other significant details.
[attr="class","wonwoo"] “Yes, but you were particularly scrawny if I recall.” Macintosh chimed in with a soft laugh and a warm smile. The old man remembered all the hours Rosario had spent worrying over the teenager, and her concern had infected him in due time. Aiden gives the seer another state, green eyes running over his figure and analyzing his build. For all intents and purposes, Desmond was far bigger than him. His eyebrows furrow as Desmond assures he is not homeless and has no intent on staying. For a moment, he tenses as if to assert ‘You better not’ before relaxing as he remembered how much his grandparents seemed to appreciate the man and he had been good to them too. He would not be rude to such a valued guest. Or…was a better term friend of the family?
Weird. He didn’t think the family had many friends. Not like this anyway. He suppresses the suspicion that began to rise within him, reminding himself that Rosario and Macintosh were infinitely wiser than he. Desmond was good. At least, good enough. The redhead blinks, perplexed at the job title. “Consultant.” He repeats unsure how to take that. “That’s wonderful, Desmond. I’m sure you’re doing just fine with that.” Rosario pipes up without missing a beat. Macintosh nods his head. “As long as you’re happy and can make a living, any job is a good job.” He stated. Aiden looked over at them before looking back at their guest. “So like…a fashion consultant then?” he asked. He’d heard of those before in the coven. Rich witches who couldn’t dress themselves because they were too sloshes to do so needed them. He had needed them for family events. Aiden can’t help but make a face at the thought of this solemn, dogmatic man being a fashion consultant. That was too weird.
"... A fair point," Desmond admits before taking a sip of his tea. In his younger years, he'd focused on theft and conning people with lies and divination to get by -- physical fitness hadn't been a requirement at the time. Now, though, fully grown with roots stretching deep into Silvertongue's den, being able to defend himself was a basic requirement.
The look he receives from the redheaded teen does not escape his gaze. The younger male is suspicious -- and justifiably so. The pleasantness of the seer was distant, not warm. He did not know how to be warm, though he had tried (clumsily) on occasion, it was not a trait which gave him any benefit growing up. Macintosh and Rosario would have been familiar with Desmond's lack of closeness by now, and would have also known that the seer would not harm them (intentionally, at least).
"A... what..?" Desmond asks with mild confusion, brows slightly furrowed when Aiden inquires if he's a fashion consultant. Was that a real job? Was the brightly-colored teen looking for one? Regardless of that, he replies: "No... for the most part, I'm hired to let businesses know about the vulnerabilities in their own security. Banks and private establishments, usually. I still get generic diviner questions on occasion, though; people wanting to know about future love and health and the like." Having had experience breaking into banks and more private establishments in his youth, it would have made sense for him to help those same types of businesses improve their security after setting the path of his life right and developing a measure of trustworthiness in his reputation. But in truth, Desmond had not done either of these things, and neither Aiden nor the Cunningham's would known that truth.
[attr="class","wonwoo"] The old couple laugh softly as they both remember different occasions spent with the teen seer. So many awkward moments during those years, but they had grown to care for the kid all the same. Aiden could feel the affection from here. He’d never seen those too be anything but affectionate though. His father hadn’t been stupid enough to come near their household, unfortunately, so he had never seen them angry. Though, he wasn’t sure he wanted to. He was too used to them being so pleasant and sincere. He looked back to the seer who seemed taken back by his question and Aiden frowns confused by Desmond’s confusion.
“Ohh…a security consultant.” Aiden states, understanding the situation better now. He’d been right. Fashion consultant had been way too weird for Desmond. There was no way the man would be one, but he’d never thought about any other kind of consultant before so it wasn’t really his fault. Aiden titled his head as Desmond explained. “Oh, so you’re a seer too then.” He said, briefly glancing over at his grandparents before looking back at Desmond. He hadn’t met many diviners yet. Charani was the only one he was really close to but…they didn’t talk a lot about it. In fact, the conversation hadn’t really lasted long when Charani had brought it up. “Sounds stable.” He quipped as he drank his tea. “Where are you living now?” Rosario asked politely, as she picked up the dish with the lemon tarts and held it up towards Desmond so he could eat, hardly caring she was expecting him to eat and also respond to her query. “You get a lot of business in the fortune teller aspect?” Aiden adds looking from Rosario to Desmond.
The seer could only wonder what on earth the Cunninghams were giggling about now. He swore they'd likely smile and laugh in the face of the devil himself if one of them started reminiscing about some fond memory. The magnitude of their positivity had started as an odd and alien concept to Desmond, and, truthfully, it hadn't ever become entirely familiar.
"I am. And it is," he affirms Aiden's observations before taking a sip of tea. There was little point trying to hide his ability from a child of the Cunninghams -- not when that child seemed so be so well-meaning.
He thanks Rosario as he gingerly takes one of the offered tarts, but recognizes her expression too well to make the mistake of eating it right away. That was a "tell me ALL about your day" type of expression. He wasn't falling into that trap this time. "I have a place downtown that I'm sharing with a friend for the time being," he answers, truthful enough that he wouldn't be caught in a lie later on, but vague enough so that they wouldn't show up at Taylan's flower shop unexpectedly. Plus, they'd likely be more interested in the fact that he'd somehow managed to make a friend (though that term felt like an overly optimistic description of their relationship) more than the building's exact location... probably.
Desmond bit into the lemon tart as Aiden asked his question, and he made no rush to answer. Even after finishing that bite, a noticable silence prefixed his answer: "I tend to see things that most people don't want to hear about... It's not exactly a profitable ability on its own. Were you looking to give me business?" Desmond noticed that the boy kept looking to his caretakers whenever the seer subject came up. He wasn't sure if he was merely wondering if the subject was safe, or if there was a question he wanted answered. Similarly, the seer wasn't sure how keen the Cunninghams would be on the subject, especially after that time years ago when he'd cut a bit too deeply into himself to make a blood scrying pool and nearly bled out on their carpet. Ah, the memories of youth.
At the mention of coexisting in the same abode with a friend, Rosario begins to beam, and Macintosh lets out a chuckle in approval. “It’s good for us to hear you’ve made such an excellent friend, Desmond.” The man adds toasting his cup to Desmond’s fortune. He had always been broody, and never really brought anyone over. It was a relief to know it was just part of his teenage years and he actually had someone to turn to if they weren’t around. A great relief actually.
Aiden sipped his tea patiently, letting his grandparents take over for the time being. Yeah, there was some things he wanted to know about. However, he didn’t want his family to know about it. They’d be cross with him for ‘digging up the past’. But it wasn’t ‘digging it up’ so much as it was more…nailing the coffin shut. The drama that had been his mother and father’s short-lived romance had consequences that had spanned over 17 years of his life and continue to do so if he didn’t take care of the rat bastard himself. “Sure.” The teenager returned, expression still thoughtful. “I wouldn’t mind knowing when I’ll get my growth spurt.”
Rosario let out a laugh, swatting at her grandson while Macintosh tried not to choke on his tea too much. “Of all the questions- Aiden please!” Rosario says, half embarrassed her grandson is actually asking this, half too amused to really care. Aiden manages a small grin before green eyes flickered back to the seer. “We can discuss it more in depth at a later date.” He added hoping that Desmond would take him seriously and let him…consult him in his more private matters. Like the health of his father, and maybe a hint on his location. He wanted to put more serious efforts into finding the coward. “Will you be staying the night?” he added watching Rosario and Macintosh light up at the idea despite being the adults here. They both nodded at Desmond, assuring him it was alright if he pleased to do so.
Post by Desmond Grey on Sept 16, 2018 16:41:25 GMT
[attr="class","depths"]
( black flowers blossom )
Goodness, these two worried far too much about him. Desmond had lived the majority of his life without bonds of friendship, so he couldn't see why they thought he would need any now. It was a bit too late to unwind the isolation which was so thoroughly stitched into his soul. Simply glad that his words provided the couple some peace of mind, Desmond offers a hum of acknowledgement and a thin smile.
The seer doesn't know Aiden well enough yet to know if his question is genuine, or if it was something of little consequence asked simply to keep his grandparents at ease. At the very least, it was entertaining. "Don't scold him too harshly," Desmond comments with a mildly amused tone, "It's a sign of good character when someone's first question isn't about fame, wealth, or power." Or murder... but Desmond was trying to keep the conversation light. He nods his head once, slow and unhurried, when Aiden suggests they discus more later. "Of course. On your own time."
Though there is no doubt in Desmond's mind that the Cunninghams would allow him to stay here in a heartbeat and without question, he does not want to entwine himself to tightly into their lives. He often wonders if merely visiting them for tea is enough to make them targets, and refuses to risk a closer bond. "I will not, though I thank you for the kind offer. I have some work to do in the morning." His gaze slides over to the clock on the side wall, "Ah... and I should be leaving soon."
Post by aiden emerson on Sept 22, 2018 5:28:27 GMT
[attr="class","wonwoo"]
Aiden’s grin softens to a polite smile as Desmond speaks up and he closes his eyes as he takes a gratuitous drink from his teacup. It’s warm, but while the heat is intense for his throat it’s not painful. It’s borderline. He wondered briefly about what kind of clients Desmond had when he was sought out. Asking about wealth, power, and fame? How low could you get? People like that didn’t deserve that kind of recognition. He didn’t need to ask about this because he knew at least one of those three was in his immediate future. With his own hands he’d carve power out of him and into existence. Be it magical studies or witch rank, he’d get there, eventually. It wasn’t so much an ‘if’ but a ‘when’.
He then began to figure out when he would be able to speak to Desmond without his grandparents overhearing him. Aiden had convinced him as a child he was over this. He was unwilling to bring it up and worry them. Rosario nodded at Desmond, disappointed but knowing better than to try and convince him. She’d learned that if he wanted to appear he would and all she could really do was welcome the young man in their home with open arms. “Well we don’t want to keep you from your work, Desmond.” The old woman sighs before her husband turns to her and pats her arm. “Maybe another night, Rosa. D-…uh Didn’t you have something for our boy?”
At this the woman brightens up immediately before setting down her cup with a soft tinkle. “Oh Yes I almost forgot!” and she rushes off to retrieve something from another room. Aiden looked over at Macintosh curiously before he sets down his own teacup and saucer. “Give her a minute. We won’t keep you for too long now.” Macintosh snickers, before pointing at the lemon tarts again and wandering back into the kitchen to pack up a small, square forest green tin with more lemon tarts. Rosario bustled back with a brightly wrapped package. Festive yellow, blues, and reds were spattered over shiny foil and a yellow ribbon sat atop on the middle. “I thought you could do with a bit of color in your wardrobe, dear.” She explained as she handed the seer the package. “We meant it as a sort of birthday gift, but…” she trailed off and waved off the rest. The truth was Desmond’s visits were unplanned and sporadic. They couldn’t expect him on his birthday, he may very well stay away. Still, the sentiment was there.
Macintosh came back in handing Desmond a tin as well before adding, “You know, we can always set another place at table for dinner. I made pot roast and mash, along with buttered carrots.” The old man offered in one last attempt to persuade their ex-charge to stay. Aiden chimed in, attempting at the very least to help his family. “Dessert is blackberry tarts instead of lemon.”
Desmond raises an eyebrow as Rosario hurries off into another room. Why did they want to give Aiden a gift while he was here? Odd. But, he supposes there'd be no harm in waiting a few more minutes. He takes the moment when the Cunninghams leave the room to finish up the half-eaten tart which he'd been neglecting due to the conversation.
Rosario returns with a gift-wrapped item which is nothing short of howlingly gaudy. And, it isn't until she makes a comment of his wardrobe that it dawns on Desmond that the gift is for him, not for their grandson.
They cared so much more than he deserved...
"Thank you," he says in the silence following her half-finished sentence as he accepts the gift. There were some people who you simply could not decline gifts from, and Desmond had learned long ago that the Cunninghams were among them. "Shall I open it here..?" he asks, though he's already fairly sure what their answer will be, and begins to neatly undo the ribbon.
"Tempting," he hums, with what was almost a smile playing at his lips as the family teams up to rattle off tonight's dinner menu, "But perhaps another night."
Post by aiden emerson on Dec 16, 2018 23:05:55 GMT
[attr="class","wonwoo"]
Without missing a beat Rosario nodded, watching excitedly as her son, she very much reminded him of this often even if there was no blood relation, opened her gift. The gift inside wasn’t at colorfully saturated as the wrapping paper, going for a softer almost pastel shade. It’s a long, royal blue scarf. The color is darker than what Rosario usually tried with Aiden, but still vibrant enough. The stitching is tight, and resplendent with the sheen of magic woven into the scarf. Upon touch it would gently exude a soft warmth, only increasing as needed when the temperature dropped. Underneath were also a pair of slick looking gloves, not mittens, of a soft looking brown leather with a fleece type inside. These too, would exude warmth to the touch.
She’d put a lot of thought into these, trying to find a way to meld her gifts with Desmond’s… monochromatic sense of dress. Still, there wasn’t any way guarantee he would wear them, but she still enjoyed gifting him things. They both did, though Macintosh was keener on cooking than gift making. But that’s why they made a good team. It balanced out. Aiden watches politely from afar, setting down his finished tea cup. He notices the visible disappointment that Desmond declined their offer for dinner, but also, they seemed a little used to it. Macintosh flashed Desmond a wry smile. “Well, you just tell us when. Yer always welcome here.” He said giving the seer a pat on the shoulder before handing him a tin of desserts for the road.
Rosario chimed in as well, “It’d be good for you and Aiden to get to know each other a little more.” Aiden nodded at this, accepting it instead of questioning it. He already had deferred to their judgement on the man when he’d shown up. It was still an odd-looking family if he took a step back. Nevertheless his grandparents were genuine, so he would go along with it. “We’ll see Desmond at Christmas then?” he asked knowing the pair would be both eager to exchange gifts with the seer on that day as well.
