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.
There's a crisp breeze flitting through the streets of Sundial, dressed in the greys and silvers of cool weather and tangling its fingers in everything not weighed down. Ling's papers are of no exception.
"Argh!" The runescripter slams a heavy book down on her diagrams, catching them just in time before they take to the air. She glares at her flapping papers, then out at the sky where the wind whips the clouds into ever-changing fluid formations. A particularly strong gust sends a swirl of leaves dancing into the air. Maybe it was a mistake to sit outside.
...but the sunlight is so nice!
A thought suddenly occurs to her, inspired by the motion of the breeze. Maybe, if she links Laguz for fluidity with the basic circular barrier array, that could allow it to adapt to a more uneven terrain? Or, what if she anchored the array with Laguz and stabilised it with Algiz...
Completely distracted by her musings, Ling bends back over her many pages of notes and hastily scribbled arrays, immersed in her work within moments, completely oblivious to her surroundings.
Somehow, it was always sunny when Vera decided to visit Sun Café. That was, of course, a good thing, but it never stopped amazing her in the way only an eerie sense of something other could. By now, it was too hard to imagine the place shrouded in the sadness and nostalgia of rain, or the somber shade of clouds, or even the darkness of night. Sun Café was just meant to be a cheerful place.
What did deviate from the usual scene was a young girl sitting outside, in one of its outdoors picnic tables. She seemed to be struggling with the many papers scattered all over the table, if only because the wind was strong to accommodate the warmth of the midday sun, which was both worrisome and endearing.
Vera's feet took her to this diligent girl—in her mind, that's what she called her as she got closer and closer—until she was only inches from her table, looking down on the scribbles and, to her, unintelligible words. Runes? A few of those looked a lot like the ancient runes her old nanny used to tell her about.
"Wow," she breathed out. This looked a lot more complicated than her alchemy books. Her expression was full of awe and respect as she pointed down at the papers and asked, "You can understand all of that?"
Whenever runes and theory and the geometry of circular arrays crowd to the front of her mind and her thoughts flow far too fast for her hand to keep up, Ling is all but oblivious to the outside world, noticing exactly nothing about her surroundings. Which is why, when a voice suddenly interrupts her musings on the stability of Algiz linked with Inguz, she jolts back to the present with a startled, "eek!"
Ling straightens abruptly, her eyes wide in surprise as she slaps both hands over her mouth to stifle her undignified exclamation. A girl a few years older than her, brown-haired and green-eyed with an expression she'd call impressed if she didn't know better (but she does know better - she's learned the hard way that no one respects runescripting as an affinity) is leaning over her shoulder and staring at her table of notes. Ling is instantly wary; she's never seen this person before, but nothing good can come from a stranger's attention to her rune work.
"You can understand all of that?" the stranger says, and there's nothing but honest surprise and respect in her voice, no trace of scorn or patronisation or distain like Ling expects. It surprises her, unbalances her from the wary defensiveness she'd drawn herself into in those few seconds, and she's left flailing for a response.
"Uh, not all of it," she stammers, uncharacteristically shy about her affinity. Pink creeps across the slant of her cheekbones as she ducks her head in embarrassment. "I get the basics, but I'm trying to work out how to adapt a barrier array to adapt to different terrains, so I'm testing the stability of different linking combinations with respect to this central array, but I'm having trouble with adapting the altered runes to the arithmetic of the rune formations and-"
She breaks off in mid-sentence, suddenly realising her babbled stream of words probably made no sense to the stranger; the pink flushing her cheeks darkens. "Sorry, sorry, I get carried away a lot," she says, sheepish, then forcibly stops herself from babbling more. "I'm Ling." Introductions are safe, right? Sorry it took so long D:
Vera notices moments too late that she's startled the poor girl. There is a succession of emotions flicking through her eyes—and, honestly, pretty much her entire body. She seems a girl quite prone to expressive body language, or perhaps that was one of the many perks of youth. She couldn't be more than a few years younger than Vera herself, but to a teenager just a few years were indeed a lot.
The girl, Ling, proceeds to explain her work in words that simply make Vera stare back with a blank expression. She understood right up to the part where she said she knew the basics, which happened to be the starting line. Ling blushes, although Vera really can't begin to fathom why. She's so young and so knowledgeable about her affinity already, and so very passionate about it to top it all.
If that was Vera in her shoes, she would surely be proud, not embarrassed, which is a topic she will have to get across soon enough. After introductions, because of course she was a lady and introductions were the proper course of action.
"Don't you worry, Ling—Oh, let me tell you now that your name is quite pretty. It's got a foreign feel to it. Kind of exotic, if you don't mind me saying so," she offers, letting her tongue run as freely as the younger girl's had when she talked about runes, only she fears her own chattering pales in intrigue value. "Mine's Vera. Quite boring in comparison, you see. My surname, Lindt, does sound a bit like your name, though."
The older witch takes a step back, giving Ling space to breathe after, well, after all the blood rushing to her face.
"It's a good thing, getting carried away when you talk about your affinity. It means you've got passion for it, on top of a natural inclination towards it." Vera doesn't know how she'll take physical proximity, but she's willing to take the risk. She places a reassuring hand on the younger witch's shoulder, before saying, "You ought to be more proud of what you do."
Her fears turn out to be unfounded as the stranger starts complimenting her on, of all things, Ling's name, and rambles on with the same sort of enthusiastic chatter as she herself so often does. The heat flaring across the slant of her cheeks deepens at the unexpected flattery even as the tense line of her shoulder relax and a genuine smile creeps onto her face.
"Thank you," she responds, a little shy, not quite knowing how to take such a compliment but appreciating it all the same. "Your name's really nice too!" she says earnestly. "And you're right - Ling and Lindt do sound really similar - we're practically twins!" The last bit is exaggerated, joking, accompanied by a mischievous grin as Ling relaxes back into her normal personality.
It's nice, playfully bantering with the older witch as opposed to the confrontation she had been expecting. Even so, Ling is again completely surprised when Vera lays a comforting hand on her shoulder and reassures her as to her affinity. She... doesn't expect it at all. Oh, she knows that runescripting is gaining a little of its former legitimacy back in the eyes of people (though academics mostly), but even the nicest people tend to subtly diminish it through simple learned stereotyping. She's proud of what she does, of course, and she'll fight anyone who doesn't think she has a right to be, but she still... doesn't expect others to tell her to take pride in runescripting the same way she tells herself.
"Thank you," she says again, but this time it's a lot more serious, a lot more weighty, a complicated tangle of emotions imbedded in just two words. "You're right, I am proud of what I can do." And she smiles, tremulous but bright as the sun, up at this stranger of a witch who, not even five minutes into their acquaintance has already made an impact on Ling. "What about you?" she asks, curious, but also wanting to know more about Vera. She wonders if they can become friends through just this one encounter. "What's your affinity?" Sorry this took so long! Unfortunately, exams are sapping a lot of my time right now...
There is little Vera can do to stop the laughter that starts to bubble up when Ling says they're practically twins. Physically, there is only their hair that looks alike, but she nods and smiles easily at the younger witch's joke. "Really, it's a wonder our parents have yet to say anything about such an obvious link." It had been a while since she last heard a joke like this, and it feels Vera with warm affection towards the runescriptor.
What's more, Ling doesn't seem to mind the supportive hand on her shoulder or Vera's words, which come as a huge relief. She smiles at Ling's uplifted mood, and even goes as far as to declare a proud "That's the spirit," before her hand leaves its place atop Ling's red vest. "Gotta start with ourselves if we want the rest of the world to appreciate what we love doing."
The inquiry that follows isn't surprising, not really. It came more and more often as she grew up. The question grew less and less wanted, too, in Vera's mind. She's never quite sure of what to answer when it does come, after all. It was such an odd thing, to pursue an affinity other than one's own innate one, but that was what Vera was doing: trading enchantment for... "Alchemy," she answers with another smile. A sheepish one, this time. "Although I have to admit I'm not all that good at it. Definitely nowhere near as good as you seem to be."
Vera takes a step back, finally getting around to inspecting the scene before her in all its glory. There is a seat opposite Ling's, which the alchemist takes long before asking whether it's unoccupied or not, and whether she can sit on it or not. "You don't mind me accompanying you for a while, do you?"
[attr="id,"cover"]
That's totally fine! Just take your time, sweetie. Good luck with those exams!
[attr="class","liebody"] Vera laughs, bright and bubbly like the pale gold of distilled stars, and Ling can't help but grin too. Infectious laughter is the best kind of laughter, and the older witch has a truly beautiful laugh. It's also just very nice when people go along with her jokes.
But then Vera mentions their parents, and despite knowing that she shouldn't be this sensitive, despite knowing that this is something she should long have made peace with and gotten over, Ling's smile wobbles on her face and fades slightly. She recovers a moment later, shoving down the hollow feeling in her heart to be felt at a later time when she's alone and not bringing the mood down (or better yet, to be felt never), and instead lets the quip, "I know right? Just look at all the genetic markers we share," slip from her tongue.
Her slightly forced cheer melts into something much more genuine as Vera speaks again, her encouraging words mirroring Ling's ideals such that they could very well be one and the same. "Exactly!" she declares, enthusiasm sparking fire anew in her eyes. "Hey hey," she says to the sheepishness in Vera's tone, impulsively leaning forwards and reaching for the older witch's hands. "You gotta believe in yourself too! Don't put yourself down like that, it doesn't do anything but make you feel worse. You ought to be more proud of what you do," she quotes Vera's words back at her, instinctively trying to add a touch of her off-brand humour into her earnest mini-speech.
Vera takes a step back from Ling and she's not sure how to feel about it until the alchemist gestures at the chair opposite hers and asks, "you don't mind me accompanying you for a while, do you?"
"Of course not, go ahead!" Ling replies immeditely, nudging the chair away from the table as she speaks.;;; finally done im so sorry
Vera doesn't miss the fraction of a second during which Ling's expression falls. It immediately follows Vera's joke, which for a moment makes her wonder if the younger witch just doesn't enjoy her sort of humor. But then she's following along, and everything seems fine, so maybe that wasn't it, or maybe the alchemist had just imagined it. She pauses, too—though hers is one that flows seamlessly after her first bout of laughter. That would be a matter they could discuss later, perhaps, if they grew close enough for it not to make the runescriptor uncomfortable.
There is genuine surprise blooming in her face when Ling reaches out for her hands in a comforting gesture. She smiles, moved by this small act of kindness, but also amused by the turn of events. "Wasn't I the one giving the motivational speech not a second ago?" she asks, her mood brightening again. Ling's usage of Vera's own words makes her laugh again. "I am quite proud of what I do," she affirms. That much is true enough. "I just don't think I was born for it, unlike some other witches."
Despite Vera's words, there is no sourness in her voice. She wasn't happy about it, clearly, but she held no resentment towards the other alchemists she knew. Perhaps a bit of jealousy, though a healthy one: a jealousy that made her try even harder. How different things would have been, if only she'd been born with a natural affinity for what she later chose to specialize in. "But enough about me. Do you usually hang around here? I'm afraid it doesn't look like a very good place to study," she says, motioning at all the wind blowing about them. Vera's hair, at least, is braided and then safely tucked into a bun.
"And on that matter, what does this rune here do?" she adds, index finger curiously pointing at one of the many runes in Ling's papers. It was repeated more than once in just the first line, so it ought to be central to that barrier she was speaking of, should it not? Its shape is mostly circular, with two tiny dots protruding from its edges. "It looks like a little frog," she muses, though from Ling's position it probably resembles anything but.
[attr="id,"cover"]
Don't be, your post was lovely and definitely worth the wait!
[attr="class","liebody"] It's true - their positions are reversed from where they were mere moments ago, and Ling isn't so far removed from her sense of humour not to see the amusing irony of such a situation. The self-deprecating air seems to vanish from Vera's dememour and her smile seems to lighten, become more genuinely cheerful; when the older witch laughs, Ling grins brightly in response and counts it as a win.
"If you're proud of what you do, and you love what you do, then I don't think being naturally born for an affinity matters," she muses. "I think in the end, it mostly just comes down to if you're willing to work hard, and if you have a passion for your affinity, right?" God knows most of the best runescripters she knows of weren't born with the affinity - considering the comparatively minuscule number of natural runescripters to runescripters without the natural affinity, discriminating against or being dishearted by not being born with the inclination for an affinity is practically unthinkable to Ling. Perhaps it's different in other fields, but really, she can't see how.
There's no resentment lacing Vera's words though, and whatever Ling's feelings regarding natural affinities verses ones a witch picks for themselves (she could honestly write an entire thesis on her views compared with that of society's, but that's a matter for another time), it's a good sign of the older witch's character. But that's also a thought for another time.
Distracted by Vera's further questioning, Ling laughs a little sheepishly as another gust of wind whirls by to ruffle her papers, as if to prove the alchemist's point. "Ah, no, usually I'm indoors or out here when the weather's nice and not so windy, but I needed some fresh air today." Looking at the mess on her table, her notes scattered everywhere and only refraining from flying away due to the heavy books and references weighing them down, her expression takes on a rueful cast. "Maybe it's a little too much fresh air though."
And then, Vera makes the mistake of asking her about a rune. Immediately, Ling's eyes brighten and she sits up straight, seeming to almost radiate excited energy as she launches into a mini-lecture. "Oh, that one is a modified Othala! It's usually more angular and square, but since I want the overall array to be more adaptable, I modified all the runes to be more fluid. The script has to reflect the intention, right? So Othala means 'inheritance', or 'estate', or 'nobility' if you trace it back to the oldest meaning, but I'm using it in the context of 'estate' since I want the associated connotations of being built, collectiveness, and solidity, and I think the rune verse fits more than the rune verses of the others. I'm using it as the stabilising factor in the array, right? It's one of the backbones of the array, which is why it's linked in so many places. For example, linking it with Thurisaz allows me to ground the more destructive elements of that rune, but not lose as much of its intrinsic properties as I would had I used, say, Eihwaz instead..."
Ling trails off into an awkward halt as she finally remembers that she's not talking to another runescripter, and that she doesn't know if she'd even being comprehensible with all her babbling. "Uh..." she says with the height of eloquence. "I... got carried away again."whoops less ling getting carried away and more me orz
Ling poses an interesting view and, although Vera isn't quite sure she can openly agree with it, the verbal expression of such a possibility does make her wonder if her faux pas with alchemy weren't product of her own attitude, her own self-fulfilling prophecy. She'd never considered it, what with her entire family being remarkable enchanters. What with herself having been expected to follow that same line. At this, she smiles. Ling was quite the bright young witch, all right. Not only in terms of what she did as a runescriptor, but also in terms of personality.
When Vera asked about the frog-shaped rune, she didn't expect an entire lecture on the history, usage and meanings of the Othala rune. She honestly got lost somewhere around the adaptability of runes depending on one's calligraphy, which was very early on in her explanation, but Vera does her best to nod and hum in response to Ling's excited lecture. And then she laughs again, when Ling comes to realize exactly that. "Don't sweat it," she reassures. "It's really quite endearing. I'm sorry I can't offer better feedback, though. I'm dumb when it comes to runes, though I was so certain Othala had something to do with frogs..."
She hopes her joke, at least, will let Ling relax.
Vera's not really bothered by Ling's excited outburst regarding rune inscription. She does briefly wonder if the younger girl's used to being judged for it, considering how sheepish she got whenever she realized she was going on tangents, and considering how much she has to say about each rune. This only makes Vera want to indulge her even more. "Can you build some sort of wall around us to keep the wind away? That'd be pretty handy."
I press the button and[break]it bursts into life[break]This time nothing will escape my sight
Heat is practically radiating off Ling's cheeks as she sheepishly curls her long braid around her fingers. Even the tips of her ears are red. This... really wasn't the impression she'd hoped to give, and is certainly not the introduction to runes that most people wish for. But Vera just laughs - not mockingly, not unkindly, rather, as if they were sharing a joke of some kind together - and the frizzing nervousness that had coiled tight around her chest dissapates like mist in morning sun, leaving her able to breathe again.
She can't help but giggle as the older witch again mentions frogs; squinting down at her runes and tilting her head, she can, admittedly, see a vague resemblance to the amphibians in question. "No no, please don't apologise." She waves her hands around in a haphazard flail as if it would emphasise her point. A thought suddenly occurs to her, her brain distracting itself from what she'd been saying. Grabbing a particularly thick tome lying nearby, she heaves it onto the space between her and Vera, giving said witch a bright, impish grin. "You know what, I bet there's a rune representing a frog in here somewhere. Or at least, an amphibian. Wanna find it?"
There's always a chance that there's not. The encyclopedia reference book on runes she has may be thick, but it certainly can't contain everything. Though frogs aren't really that obscure considering their popularity in certain spells...
Ling blinks as Vera asks about walls, then stills. Walls. Barriers. Barriers. Groaning, she slaps a hand over her face at her own stupidity - why did she not think of this? She's a barrier specialist, for gods sake! She's currently working on barriers. Taking a full moment to moan at her own stupidity, Ling shakes her head before looking back at Vera. "I just realised, I can do that," she says, warring between laughing and utter exasperation at herself.
Reaching for a blank sheet of paper, she quickly draws out a simple quadragonal array, the four outer points twisting like inked snakes around a central rune. There's no need to do anything fancy or complicated - this barrier isn't meant to hold up under attacks or anything after all. Then she pulls out another piece of paper and begins to repeat the array, changing only three runes while keeping everything else the same. Glancing up at Vera, Ling says, "sorry if this is a bit boring, I'll be done soon."
