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 artemi zakharchenko on May 16, 2017 0:49:06 GMT
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In principle, this should be a really easy mission; one so easy that Artemi could hardly see why he required accompaniment for it. How hard could driving a carriage honestly be? Horses that were commonly employed to bear freight were bred for their obedience and strength, they would plod down any street dutifully with little encouragement. Or, at least, that was what he supposed; this man a little shy of twenty-three whom had never driven such a large vehicle. When applying for the mission, it wasn't like it'd been hard to fake his references in the first place. But seeing as he'd be sharing the job with another witch, he could only assume that the other would possess a little more notion than he did of driving. [break][break] But still, two witches for a mere escort job through safe terrain? The term squandering taxes came to mind, but for someone who could do with easy money, still being considered a fledgling, he would not complain. He would do his job and collect his remuneration for his time. [break][break] His inquisitive carmine eyes roved down the inventory ledger, not noting anything of immediate value... unsurprisingly. Waiting on his partner, Artemi loitered by the side of the wooden carriage. It was simply built from local timber, lacking embellishments except the one of the council's crest; it was practical, plain... boring. Even the two mares that were already fastened in their halters seemed to be of common stock. A dull bay in colour, their coats were without the healthy shine of a well-cared for horse and their manes - about as dark and unruly as Artemi's - were messily braided back so not to become tangled in the reins. They were, however, shod in decent iron, which seemed a little contradictory to the rest of their appearance. [break][break] All these little details were small things that didn't escape Artemi as he continued to examine the contraption. Casually, he flicked his untrimmed bangs over his shoulder with a sidewards jerk of his head, where they fell far past his chest, and carefully folded the inventory between his spidery fingers. He resolved to not look too closely at the details; his years in mercenary work had told him that much. Don't ask unnecessary questions, only ask about payment. Hearing a movement from behind him, Artemi could only suppose that it was his mission partner finally deigning him with his presence after signing the same ridiculous paperwork that he had.[break][break]
notes,lets... get this wreck on the road???[break] tag,Zephyr Hart
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[attr="class","gearcore"]Zephyr, contrary to popular opinion, hated last minute missions. Not requests from the council -- there was rarely any need to prepare for them -- but internal Leviathan jobs were a pain in the ass to execute on the fly. Being primarily of unscrupulous nature, those jobs weren't something anyone wanted to fail. Some were the kinds of jobs that'd force a man in to hiding if he fucked up badly enough.
Today, thankfully, Zephyr was just playing courier. Granted, he was transporting substances that weren't exactly legal in any civilized corner of Salem, but considering the alternatives, this wasn't so bad. The most challenging aspect of it was that he wouldn't be alone, and would thus need to sneak it in with the rest of the expected supplies. Somehow.
Although he mentally grumbled to his familiar over the inopportune nature of their current task, Zephyr had been quite lucky to get on this mission at all. Silvertongues were like ninjas when it came to snatching up mercenary jobs, so the blonde had needed to convince the council secretary that maybe it wasn't such a good idea to trust these supplies to a mere fledgeling from the coven that tended to attract folks who'd do anything for money. The secretary agreed, though Zeph had an odd feeling that she added his name to the mission a bit too quickly.
After dealing with a pile of tedious and entirely unnecessary paperwork, the earth mage was finally able to go to the start of their journey, and almost immediately realized why the council lady had been so eager to stick someone else on this mission. Long fingers, longer inky hair, an unwelcoming posture, and sharp red eyes didn't exactly produce a feeling of trust. Regardless, Zeph approached with a grin and stuck out his hand in greeting. "Zephyr Hart. Your partner for th' day." As he introduced himself, Spock, who'd been hanging from the back strap of his leather bag, peeked over his shoulder to get a good look at the stranger. "An' this's Sprocket," the human belatedly added, quickly cocking his head to the side to indicate that he was indeed talking about the monkey.
"Wanna get goin'?" he asked after all introductions were over, easily climbing into the front seat of the carriage, "Objective seems simple 'nough, an' we can talk on the road without burnin' extra daylight."
artemi zakharchenko and you thought zeph would just be bad because he's a reckless driver. ha! he's actually a MASTER AT CAUSING PROBLEMS ;u; (also apologies for the delay & hastiness)
Post by artemi zakharchenko on May 26, 2017 10:01:25 GMT
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As far as first impressions went... Artemi was mildly surprised. Neither in a pleasant or bad way just... surprised. The man who came strolling up to him so boldly, casually, with such familiarity that suggested that they weren't only just becoming acquainted, was something he hadn't been expecting. The gloomy-aired witch simply blinked at blonde newcomer intelligently, taking a moment to assimilate and examine his partner for the mission.[break][break]
Of course, the first feature of his that his prying gaze rested on was the mottled and puckered skin that covered a substantial portion of his face. Artemi was unabashed with his looking; he wasn't ever someone to pretend he didn't notice something so blatant... just like his style of speech. Unrefined on his ears, suggestive of a common background. And then there was his familiar; a small primate of sorts, one that he believed he hadn't seen yet. His curiosity was caught though by this peculiar man. Perhaps the mission wouldn't be entirely mundane, at least.[break][break]
After a moment, perhaps a slightly too long moment, of leaving this man's - Zephyr as he'd introduced himself - hand waiting for him, Artemi asquiesced and took it up in his own to shake it.[break][break]
"Zakharchenko... Artemi. Pleasure."[break][break]
Artemi couldn't blame the blonde for wanting to set off as promptly as permitted. He stood, blankly, watching as the man clambered up onto the carriage and saw, with a small breath of something akin to relief, that he'd assumed the driver's seat. It was absolutely fine by him. The cryomancer didn't mind his first taste of being behind a carriage's reins not being on a mission.[break][break]
"It does seem simple enough... hence why there's no room for error or tardiness," Artemi was confident in their capabilities to finish such a simple task, but it was the mere truth. It was a little awkward getting his lanky frame up onto the raised seat, being all legs and limbs, but he sat himself heavily, yet comfortably, besides Zephyr.[break][break]
"The weather appears to be in our favour at least," he commented, letting his carmine eyes leave the driver and, instead, glance up towards the pastel periwinkle skies, blemished by only smears of blanched cotton. There had been recent rains though, given the consistent scent of damp that impermeated the air where the dirt roads hadn't quite yet dried. Clods of dirt stuck to the horses' hooves and shoes where they paced with a little impatience on the spot. "It appears mud will be our only problem here... an easy mission. Certainly easy for two participants."
notes,x, i would expect no less ;u; (and honestly no worries!!)[break] tag,Zephyr Hart
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[attr="class","gearcore"]Zephyr usually considered himself fairly good at reading people, but this guy was... odd. His eyes, which were pretty much exclusively what Zeph was looking at, didn't do that uncomfortable flicking when they looked at his face due to not wanting to be accused of staring, nor did they do that long and intentional stare just to prove that they weren't afraid of looking. They also seemed to be as keen as a hawk's. Zephyr mostly felt like he was being analyzed like a curious child, in that the other's actions didn't seem to be dictated by any naturally engrained social norms. Zeph wasn't sure what he thought about that, other than that he wanted to learn a bit more about the dark, willowy oddity in front of him, and that he'd need to be especially careful in how he snuck in the contraband goods.
Thank goodness this guy had a first name, though, because his last one was a mouthful (and far too many syllables for Zephyr's taste).
Artemi didn't have any protests about going right away. "Sounds good t' me! So here we go," he declares, flicking the reigns in unison with his last spoken syllable. The horses lurch forward at the sudden snap, pulling the cart of goods and passengers forward through the streets. It was perhaps faster than a traditional horse and carriage would move, but certainly not overwhelming -- merely the equivalent of speedwalking. Zephyr wanted to reach the true, unobstructed plains of the outskirts, as well as get a feeling for how well their carriage would steer with so much weight, before going all out.
"I sure hope mud's the only thing we'll run into," he says once they start maintaining a steady pace, "This cart ain't the kind that takes t' rocks well, an' there's def'nitely some spots in the plains with that kind o' surface. I figure we'll just have'ta deal with that once we get there, yeh?" As he notes this, he turns a corner and the boxes behind them shift ever-so slightly.
"But the plains're long an' there's really only so much ya can say 'bout a transport mission, so d'ya mind if I ask somethin' less businessy?" Zephyr didn't wait for an answer before continuing, "Spock really wants t' braid your hair. Do ya mind?" Indeed, the monkey's gaze hadn't left the dark locks, long and smooth like a silken scarf. It'd be the kind of thing she'd want to snatch for herself if it wasn't attached to the poor man's head, but in this instance she'd decided that she'd have to be satisfied with simply petting it.