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.
"the vodka came diluted one more line I’m superhuman"
“Thank you very much.” There was a clam atmosphere as the boys sat down. The girls seemed keen to be digging in while Charani didn’t really have anything. He took the snacks they had brought from the bag (recipes aiden emerson and his family would probably easily recognize as they were his grandmothers) and placed them with the rest of the food. Simple lemon squares and some kind of bun? There was a meaty filling inside.
There was a commotion as a man frantically tried to get help. Attention to find a lost child. A daughter? It was not the girl with them for sure as she had come with her mother and siblings all of whom was visible from their current position not twenty feet away. aiden emerson ever the hero was the first to leap into action.
“No I’ll go with you. Just in case she’s gotten herself hurt or something.” The brown haired boy waved a the two elderly people who were fine with looking after the two girls while they helped this father. “Lillai you stay here okay? We will be back.”
“See anything? He made his way towards the father with Aiden as the man frantically tried to get help. “You said your daughter’s missing?” Hopefully this would be quick and easy to accomplish. Surely a child couldn’t get to far.
Bello takes the jar happily, tucking it into his bag. “Was hoping you’d say something like that. Thanks.” This may of been the best day since moving to Sundial. Then again, it may have been the only day that he put any effort into enjoying himself. There’s a burning in his palm that isn’t the sun. He is not a man above superstition. In the back of the head, he takes a note of this. Bello swallows his saliva and it’s thick, bitter. He turns his focus back to Heath. It was nice to have company and the other witch was friendly enough. Sure, most of his niceness was probably just part of his reporter shtick, but Bello appreciates it nonetheless. He made negative efforts at friendship. Perhaps because most of his company was no one to be proud of.
“Oh yah yah... the Sundial.” Bello’s voice pulls each word softly, slowly, stretching them like putty. His normal drawl even more apparent when in tandem with his disdain for the city. “Jester’s Den,” he says “huh.” Bello is admittedly not the best at piecing people together. While he knew of the coven, of course, he didn’t think that he knew of any witch in it. Until now that was. He responds with silence. At times like this, Bello wished he had more to offer in way of conversation, if not just for manners sake.
Bello squints at Heath. “Yer not gonna help him? Isn’t it a journalist thing to be uh, morally upstanding?” At home, hopefully, his family is safe. Doom had been embracing the Okoro’s and their land tighter and tighter. Bello thought when he got back there may be nothing late. A missing daughter was urgent. It makes him feel sick to think of himself in the same situation. Bello was yet to even have any children. This man was seemingly alone, no one around who was bound to help him. Softening his tone he adds, “I mean ... don’t you think we should help him?” Bello turns at the waist, scanning the radius of field around him. No one thought of the witch as charitable or even compassionate. Those who knew of the jobs he worked and which coven belonged to, even less so. Still, there were a handful of things Bello found to be if the utmost importance and they were as follows: family, naps, food, and plants.
Bessie lets out, what can only be described as, a forlorn moo. A moo of despair & a moo to show her solidarity for the father-daughter duo’s misfortune. It is as soft as a cow can make a moo. This is more than unfortunate! That poor muffin. She thinks maybe, she would be better fit to search for her than these witches. For one, she was a cow. Like all prey animals Bessie had a superior range of sight. Not to mention, what child does not love a farm animal. Her horns may have been a little off putting, but for the most part Bessie looked as kind as kind could be. Bello, what if you’re sister was missing? She nudges him with her nose, and emits another low moo.
His simmers, stings in a way that makes Bello rub at the scar. His hand closes, four fingers moving simultaneously against his palm. The tissue was raised and smooth. To him it looked like a bit of rope beneath his skin. In futile attempts to relax Bessie, he places his free hand on her head. He was concerned too, but at times he found his familiar hyper emotional. There was nothing to be worked about yet. Though if the girl was truly missing, it was imperative they act quickly.
When Ling had first approached Desmond with the idea of going to Idun's Garden for the holiday, he'd initially fabricating some excuse of prior obligations. Being that he was surrounded by a meadow's worth of flowers on a daily basis, and that he was hardly ever in the mood for public scrutiny when in the singular company of a young girl who was (according to the universally accepted lie) not his daughter, the reasons to not attend weighed too heavily against the alternate.
But, of course, things couldn't have been that simple.
His scried answers over the next few days are all muddled with the scent of hyacinth and the taste of regret (or... maybe that was just blood -- it was difficult to tell when they meld together so frequently). With the declined invitation half-forgotten at the back of his mind, the likely reason for these disruptive sensations didn't dawn on him until recently. So he tells her that his plans have changed, and is reminded how brilliantly she shines when she smiles.
He is reminded of this again when she arrives, all bubbling enthusiasm. (Idly, Desmond wonders what that even feels like -- being so excited about something that it spills from your every action and word. He can hardly fathom it.) At some point a smile sneaks its way onto his lips as he allows Ling to take his hand and pull him outside. "I'm right behind you," he assures, amusement plain in his tone, "Though you certainly seem excited to travel to see flowers, for someone who visits a flower shop so regularly."
It isn't a long walk to Sundial's nearest Eluvian Hub, which was sure to at least have an indirect connection to one of the mirrors which had been brought out to Idun's Garden for the event. And of course, the moment the two of them walk through, he hears the father's frantic plea -- "Please, help me! i can't find my daughter anywhere--"
Because of course things couldn't have been that simple...
líng lù-xī (almost definitely #participate if ling has anything to say about it)
Post by raziel of the autumn court on Feb 29, 2020 21:27:41 GMT
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There are fragments of possessions
She is many things that Raziel is not -- dark tones and untamable waves -- reverse ends of the same axis. As far as first impressions go, the merchant has already marked this stranger as one of the more interesting customers of the day.
"I have a wide variety here today, so I'm sure there's something that will suit your tastes! Feel free to take your time and look around," they invite, motioning to the shelves of labeled loose leaf blends, "There's also a pot of vanilla orchid and pear that just finished steeping, or some hibiscus nectar if you'd prefer something with bolder flavors."
As they speak, they pour a cup of the vanilla and pear for themselves, but don't have a chance to bring the drink to their lips before a man starts making a ruckus outside. Raziel has enough composure to not spill the hot tea, but does stop what they're doing, taken aback by the sudden shout. They peek outside out of curiosity, and see that a few people have already approached the distraught father to offer their assistance. That was good -- he'd be calmed down and stop causing a disruption -- and surely the child would be found. After all, how many hiding places could there possibly be in such an open space? "Ah, what a shame... though it's good to see has people helping him so quickly," they say softly. Underneath the vaguely concerned exterior, however, they couldn't really bring themselves to care about a lost child. Really, the merchant suspected that they kept better track of their products than some parents did with their children.
Spider legs for fingers, Aine walks them through container after container of tea leaves. Each with its own scents and flavors, hidden now but apparent under a bath of boiling water. To see the heat coax out colors and flavors otherwise covert was soothing. "You come up with all these on your own?" She asks, turning her head from the shelf to Raziel seconds after she is finished talking. Tea making must be an art like all things. Gathering the leaves, drying them, creating different flavor combinations. Aine had a particular weakness for spice heavy black teas but she did not mind a step outside of her comfort zone.
Then was something about the faintness of tea, the way it occupied both sweet and not, that was tortuous. "I wouldn't mind some hibiscus nectar." While the vanilla orchid and pear combination was intriguing, it was a bit too far from what the witch was used to. Aine chose to explore things at her own pace, languid and thoughtfully.
Following Raziel's suit, Aine peers out to see what the commotion is about. She nods, agreeing. "With so many people out here, someone better offer to help him." Not that she would be that someone. Other people's business was just that, other people's business. Aine preferred not to get involved in anything with the potential to get sticky. Looking for a moment longer, she turns her attention back to tea. She'd set out to have a pleasant day. This whole missing kid drama was not a part of it.
Andrea had decided to go to the event going on, enjoying the flowers and the sun while she could. When she got there though she immediately regretted this decision, there were far too many people around for her liking. Especially when what she wanted to do was relax, to let down her walls. [break]
Sighing she pushed further into the groups of people, she had to admit it was a beautiful day, if it had been just her here she wouldn't have been able to keep the smile off of her face. Not able to pass up an opportunity to give in to her sweet tooth she paused at one of the many booths and purchased a pastry from the man running it. "Thank you, sir," she nodded politely and continued to make her way through the stalls. [break] As she passed by one stall she stopped smiling softly to herself at a group of daisies in front of her.