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 Feb 7, 2020 8:23:20 GMT
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here is a poorly kept secret: kasimir loves children.[break][break]
and here are the secret keepers: the children who come at the gathering of twilight to crowd around his knees, eager to watch as stars dance to a fiddler's tune in the palm of his hands. [break][break]
he lets them sing, the bright pinpoints of light; lets them dance and dazzle and glitter like jewels against the deepening sky. he lets illusionary fire flicker to life, wreathed in it like one might swath a cape around one's shoulders; smiles as the children gasp and reach out with ever-inquisitive fingers to catch at the embers. the sparks dance just out of reach of their fingertips, brushing ever so close before transforming into butterflies and joining the stars between his fingers. they swirl together in a cacophony of light, the fire and the stars and the ember-butterflies; the symphony swells as the performance reaches its peak-- and falls, as the illusions fade and the demonstration is at the end.[break][break]
the children cheer and clap, swarming him as they always do, a dozen voices begging for more. "no no," he says, laughing, trying not to drown in a mess of pre-adolescent limbs. "i am glad you liked it, but it is getting dark. your parents would like you home, now." there is a chorus of disappointed groans, but the children obediently release him from their clutches and start to drift away. "another day," he promises to all those lethally cute eyes. [break][break]
and finally, the street is quiet again, twilight settling like a soft grey shroud over the cobblestones and walls, darkening a shade every passing minute. kasimir closes his eyes to the eve, revelling in this one moment of peace.
[attr="class","ashni-tags"] @ Aine La Havas[break] # hello!
equally dense and light-footed, aine maneuvers the streets of the hovel with ease. the sun is setting. darkness brushes citizens off the streets and into their homes. the cool that accompanies the night is a welcome guest on the witch's skin. the sun sets, the moon rises. the moon sets, the sun rises. there is an order, a schedule to things if you will. aine is not behind on her's but she cannot remove the urgency in her movements. home lights her eyes and keeps her weary body afloat. a recluse, not but nature but by habit, aine savors nothing more than being able to enjoy life in her domain.
mind devoid of any meaningful thought and then something, someone catches her eye. it's him again. whoever he is. he visits, again and again, and again. aine suspects these streets don't hold his home. do they welcome him? it doesn't matter because the children do. even in a crowd of tiny bodies, he catches aine's eye. it is impossible not to... his hair is bright red. brilliant white sparks dance from his hand. aine sees the shows he puts on, even if she isn't the audience. small scale and fantastical magic delights children. they coo and clap for him, again and again, and again. behind her stoic expression so does aine. when she spots him today all of his usual spectators are gone. his eyes are closed.
her feet have moved without her brain's consent. aine stands a mere yard away. managing something between a loud swallow and a cough, she tries to offer some notice of her arrival. "shows over huh?" arms crossed loosely over her chest, aine relaxes her face trying to even just faintly embody extroversion.
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Feb 7, 2020 9:24:41 GMT
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there had been a spark at the edge of his perception while the stars glittered between his fingers, a witch lingering along the hovel streets. a parent, he had assumed, of one of the children he had been entertaining -- for who else would come here, to the dirt and the poor and the forgotten? and as the children had dispersed and the quiet eve settled, he had forgotten the witch-spark for the silver-sweet peace.[break][break]
a cool evening breeze breaks the stillness; peripherally aware of the witch as he is, still she somehow manages to startle kasimir. he had not expected to be spoken to, not after the children had left.[break][break]
eyes wide, he stares at the woman. dark hair, dark eyes, her features regal -- has he ever met her before? perhaps, perhaps not; there are too many faces drifting in and out of his life nowadays. "ah," he says, realising that he has yet to reply. the deepening twilight lends cover for the embarrassed flush creeping across his cheeks. "uh, yes. i... apologise if it had disturbed you," he hazards a guess at what she may want from him.
[attr="class","ashni-tags"] @ Aine La Havas[break] # shitpostcentral
the familiarity of his face, despite not knowing who it belonged to, gave aine comfort. his frequent visits had given her nerves a chance to acclimate. this man to her was no different than the buildings lining the streets. another part of the background, only slightly more interesting than it's surroundings. "disturbed me? im sorry i missed it." his hands held a secret that aine wished to hear. if he could walk his fingers in her palm, would magic inscribe itself there? of course magic, like all things, is not that simple.
aine is an illusionist only just beginning to grasp at the invisible ropes. even his simple children's show is beyond her reach. she wants his skill for herself, for power and for beauty. above all aine is a performer. in life aine always wears a mask. on stage she leaves her body and it contorts itself into shape after shape after shape. inspiring to her audience, but she could do more. aine will do more.
she rethinks crossing her arms still trying to embody extroversion. they fall lamely to her sides. aine shifts her weight from one hip to another. she flexes her foot and relaxes it, subconsciously trying to bridge the silence. "i see you around here." the witch adds for context. "name's aine." she thrusts her hand into the space in front of her, hoping to meet his.
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Feb 7, 2020 10:18:05 GMT
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as relieving as it is not to be accused of being a public nuisance, it sinks in, then, that this stranger has just watched him entertain a herd of children with a magical lightshow. attention is... not something he seeks, and to be under eyes - eyes that see too close to his truths - is an uncomfortable position. at least this woman is not accusing him of manipulating and influencing children, and demanding to arrest him, as he recalls of a past incident. his familiar had thought it hilarious.[break][break]
she recrosses her arms; he wonders for a moment, with the stirrings of alarm, if indeed he had misread the mood and was in fact going to be accused. but she shifts her weight again, and again, and oh. yes; social awkwardness is something he knows well. somehow, it makes him feel a little more at ease. [break][break]
i see you around here, the witch tells him, and he... has no idea how to respond to that. but that means she is a hovel resident then? he reaches out to shake her hand, a little hesitant, very unsure as to where they stand. "a pleasure to meet you," his mouth responds automatically. for a brief moment, he considers giving a false identity-- but no, all the children of the hovel know who he is, and if she were a resident then it would be too easy to prove this falsehood. not to mention, his name is... not unknown by sundial, now. "kasimir," he says.[break][break]
a brief, awkward pause as his neurons refuse to form into coherent thoughts and syllables into recognisable words. "i... like to entertain the children here," he says eventually, feeling the need to explain himself at the earlier statement. "they like illusions."
[attr="class","ashni-tags"] @ Aine La Havas[break] # shitpostcentral
silence, though intangible, was rock hard. despite that both aine and kasimir had spoken, a sheet of ice covered their encounter. socially, she had the upper hand. while his face and presence were mundane to her, aine might not have even been a face in the crowd to him. she smiles at his introduction. aine pulls her hand away like a snake, slowly and all at once. "children love all magic." a smile like a string tugged through her mouth. it was forced but warmed in dark skin.
children are of no concern to her. kasimir's interest in the joy of children was even less a concern. had he been in the streets causing mischief and sowing chaos, it would still have been of no concern. the hovel housed the witch but she swore no allegiance to it. home was never a physical place. home was a calmness behind the eyes, the rising and falling of a chest, a body moving expertly in the dark. however, it was curious to her that anyone would come all this way for children. to the hovel at that. his constant desire to be there had presented kasimir's magic to aine. was this a sign for her to capture it?
continuously, and cautiously, aine reinserted herself into the stream of conversation. she was desperate to find the flow of things. "i love illusions." would kasimir understand what she was getting at? to be any more forward would mortify her. she was not in the habit for praising childish things. aine lacked reputation. still, she put nothing into the world that would not be welcomed back to her. a refined woman would not even crane her neck for these tricks. "i've been trying my hand at it myself." another tight strung smile.
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Feb 7, 2020 11:04:06 GMT
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as the silence stretches out like molasses between their sentences, kasimir wonders if aine had began this interaction with a goal, if he is simply failing to parse it from the surface level words. at what point would it be appropriate to politely excuse himself and vanish? he is an acolyte, surely he could disappear effectively without being tailed.[break][break]
the smile that stretches her lips up seems, for the lack of better word, strained. he would know - he is quite familiar with such a look in the reflection of his own mirror. here, now, it is confusing more than anything else. ah but finally, finally, he thinks he has a hint of why aine is interested. "ah, you are an illusionist yourself?" he asks, relaxing his shoulders into a more open posture. "it is a good affinity to have. adaptable to many situations." illusions, he can talk about. it is not his primary affinity, nor his favourite, but he is good at them regardless, and knowledgeable enough that he can keep up with most conversation around it.[break][break]
[attr="class","ashni-tags"] @ Aine La Havas[break] # look at these socially awkward beans lol
a crack in the air, and the slow trickle of words fall from both mouths. the momentum that is conversation, seems to be finally underway. "hmm, im a dancer. i am becoming an illusionist." she says thoughtfully. aine is hesitant to claim anything she is not a master of. to embarrass oneself, by claiming knowledge you lacked was just foolish. "but you," her dark eyes roam kasimir's face freely, searching for nothing, just absorbing the finer details of his appearance that she'd missed from afar. "you are an illusionist."
the images that dance for him must only be the tip of the iceberg. that is play for him. what works him? what hard limit slices through his soft illusions? surely he was more experienced than aine. how much more was a mystery to the witch. regret bites at her. aine if only you had started your studies sooner. aine if only you hadn't wasted so much time on god knows what. aine if only you had learned something ... if only you could do anything.
as always, her only skill was to disappear. to do the opposite, to create something was lost on her thus far. aine nods, an attempt to be agreeable. "oh yes, good for many things. perfect for performance ... but you know that already."
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Feb 7, 2020 11:50:25 GMT
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there is a hint of something hesitant, something self-depreciating in her ink-dark eyes when the woman corrects him. unwanted empathy softens something inside of him; "i would argue that you are already an illusionist," he says gently, hoping that it is not too presumptuous of him. "just one at the beginning of your journey." self-confidence is important, especially at the start - and it has been many years of struggling that has finally taught him that lesson.[break][break]
a performer, hmm? a thought occurs to him, framed by the memories of a galaxy dancing at his fingertips and a recent performance of his. "if this is not too forward... would you like some pointers? i... know a few illusions that may be of use in a performance." it would not be his first attempt at helping someone with their affinity or element, not by a long way. the number of silvertongue fledglings and apprentices he has somehow found himself training would attest to that.
[attr="class","ashni-tags"] @ Aine La Havas[break] # look at these socially awkward beans lol
flames of embarrassment hide in her dark hair. the back of her neck is so hot. "i would argue that you are already an illusionist". kasimir's words are sweet and hard to swallow. to be seen not for who she was, but what she could be was a painful kind of visibility. aine breaks eye contact so she can breathe. her gaze flicking to the side and then back to his face. "oh." she exhales air, as if the start of a laugh with only silence to follow.
his offer of help was a breath forced into her lungs. aine wouldn't have to make a meal of her pride. just as she wished, kasimir presented her desires on a silver platter.
a sparkle in her dark beetle shell eyes. "oh! i would never turn down a chance to improve." a real smile. her finger tips itched, ached, to bring anything in to this world. "if it would be no trouble." dreams of applause were not her only ones. sometimes aine would lay down at night and enter a new world. a world she could control. everything you saw, aine created. everything you experienced was hers to manipulate. illusion felt like a safety net and aine was eager to fall into it.
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Feb 7, 2020 12:46:26 GMT
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she is not offended by his presumptuous words, which is good. to the contrary, she seems almost... embarrassed? her eyes dart away from his, though her dark skin and the soft veils of night hide whatever blush that might creep up. kasimir empathises - were someone to say as he did back to himself, he, too, would not know how to react. similarly though, he has no idea what he might say in reassurance, and so his tongue remains leaden at the bottom of his mouth.[break][break]
aine looks up again, and this time he recognises the glint in her eyes, like a flicker of lightning against the storm-dark sky. was this her goal all along? ah but it does not matter, he would honour his offer regardless. the smile that crosses her face looks genuine this time, and it brings her regal features out in beautiful starkness. it is easy to offer a small smile back, unmarred by stiffness.[break][break]
"it would be no trouble," he reassures. "i offered, after all." a pause, a glance around at the empty streets where the night has settled in slumbering shades of indigo and the deepest blues. "perhaps not tonight, though," he says wryly. "are you familiar with the lux university training grounds? we could meet there, when you are free."
[attr="class","ashni-tags"] @ Aine La Havas[break] # yeet
she is grateful, even if it doesn't show. kasimir's offer was unexpected. it was refreshing ... for someone to give something with seemingly no motive. aine had always been a taker, from birth. she never made a habit of giving without receiving in return, and preferably first.
the bell of her laughter sounds freely, but lasts a mere second. "ah of course. another time, another place. the street is no place for lessons. especially at this hour." aine's schedule had gotten away from her. the sun's last rays had been laid to rest a long time ago. the dark of the hovel was not welcoming but it did not scare her anymore.
lux university? "mmm yes, i think so." aine of course knew of the university but she couldn't think of a time she'd been on its campus. even after all these years in sundial city, she'd only graced a small number of places with her presence. a creature enslaved by routine and with few associates, aine did not get out much. something she did not regret.
"i'd love to meet you there, soon. next week maybe?" the thought of seeing him again excited her. still aine did not want to seem too eager. what she'd wanted to say was tomorrow. still she had her own plans to keep and her guard to maintain. he should be easy to spot when they met again. his hair never failing to catch her eye even in the busy hovel streets.
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Feb 7, 2020 13:16:57 GMT
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a genuine laugh is a precious thing, silver and bright, even when only so very brief. he smiles to it, more at ease the longer they talk, and he is quite certain in his guess that it is the same for aine. of course, common ground unites. [break][break]
"the campus is big, but there are signs indicating where the training grounds are," he offers. "they are open to the public, and so made accessible." it is not kasimir's preferred place to train, but he can hardly invite this stranger to the halls of his coven or the sanctuary of his house. the lux university facilities are neutral grounds, and a nice place besides.[break][break]
"next week is fine. would you be available tuesday afternoon?" he should be returned from his mission then. ah, scheduling - ever a headache. "do you have any particular spells you wish to learn?" hopefully he will not need to go specifically hunt down a spell he does not yet have.
[attr="class","ashni-tags"] @ Aine La Havas[break] # yeet
kasimir's smile is a balm on aine's open wound. socializing has never been her strong suit. time spreads smoother with each breath. she is confident by their next meeting that any awkward hiccups will have vanished. she nods rhythmically as he talks more about the university. she is almost not listening at all.
"tuesday will do beautifully." having set a date, her excitement gurgled like boiling water. it turned into a mist and enveloped her. "thank you." am obligatory and genuine nicety.
bringing her hand to her mouth, aine ran her index finger over her bottom lip. allowing her heart beat to fill a moment of time. "any in particular? no. there's too many i need to learn still." then quickly, as if tacked on to her first state, aine said "but anything that'll help me look good on stage is more than welcome." her tone gathered some mirth. the stage was her domain. haven broken her body time and time again, it now melted into submission. she was liquid on stage. the idea of literal magic accompanying her tasted just like sugar.
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Feb 7, 2020 13:47:55 GMT
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here is excitement there beneath the forcibly calm demeanour, he is sure, like golden champagne bubbles glittering under the sun. he allows himself to feel a spark of the same - though summoning and illusions and fire he has started learning from so long ago, having recently picked up a new affinity and element both, the joy of exploring a magic yet so unknown to him is a feeling he is once again acquainted with. and helping others fall in love with those same magics... well. sometimes, in the darkest of nights and the deepest privacy of his own mind, kasimir thinks that perhaps were it not for his circumstances, he could have become a teacher in another life, a happier one.[break][break]
"no thanks is necessary. i am glad to be of help," he says quietly, but his leaf-green eyes are bright. "hm... for stagecraft? maybe stars, fire, clones, or glamour," he muses, demonstrating them in quick succession. the brilliant pinpoint stars from earlier burst into light cupped within his palms, fading to the flicker of eerie green fire; that, too, fades as a clone appears, and wavers as it suddenly shifts to aine's appearance. a pause, and it vanishes, leaving nothing but a tingle of mana and the dark, dark night behind. "any of them? ... you do not have to choose today, or even just a single one."
[attr="class","ashni-tags"] @ Aine La Havas[break] # yeet
