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 lynnelia arnett on May 21, 2017 23:11:16 GMT
❧
There was laughter in the air; joy and light and freedom giving life to the sky. It was intoxicating, the docks — or, more specifically, Venice Beach. Lynnelia couldn’t ever get enough of it. Perhaps it was due to her hometown, with its sprawling beaches, glowing white sand, crisp, blue waves ready for the taking… Everything was so simple then. She still had her family, she still had her name, she still had her innocence and naivety. But those days were long behind her, and Lynnelia had understood to let them go and live on. [break] So here she was now, with a half-marked canvas propped against her treasured, portable easel, brushes in hand and palette smeared with paint, capturing the beauty before her with every stroke of her hand. She had been painting ever since she could remember, it was something which soothed her soul and gave her relief from all that bothered her in life. It took her somewhere else, just as poetry does, but painting was more personal — more bittersweet. She could feel her mother’s fingers guiding her own in the dawn, teaching her how the color moves and to match it with the painter’s vision. She lets this memory guide her arms every time. [break] It’s looking beautiful so far. [break] Lynnelia turned her head, a bright smile creasing her lips, as Medea, her familiar, neared her; the fox had gone off to explore, as she often did when they visited the docks, and had just arrived back. The blizzard emanating from her coat was colored in a golden glow from the sun, and it made Medea look all the more breathtaking. [break] Thanks. Did you have fun? Lynnelia replied inaudibly; Medea preferred speaking only to Lynnelia through their connection, and Lynn was not fond of seeming like she was off her rocker by responding to apparently nothing. [break] Yes, it was enjoyable, Medea’s velvet voice purred through her mind as the fox stretched herself out against the ground, nuzzling her cold nose against Lynnelia’s ankles. The witch jumped at the feeling. “You’re too cold!” she giggled, not realizing she had said this bit out loud. [break] Turning her attention away from the fox, Lynnelia touched brush to canvas again, sighing contentedly as she began detailing the waves. Sometimes, she wished these moments weren’t so solitary, but she’d gone her whole life this way, and the feeling had grown almost natural, like it or not.
Venice beach, such a blessing. The sun was at its peak, it would've been a bad idea for Lex to wear his usual clothing, a fur jacket wouldn't have been too fitting for an attire at the beach. Instead, He wore a low sleeved black tanktop to display a majority of his hard earned muscles for the ladies to swoon at, of course, Lex kept his blinding assortment of rings and golden chain necklaces. He seemed to be well prepared for the occasion, to add to this getup, Lex brought a folded beach chair underneath his left arm
The day was perfect for a short stay at the coast, scouting for women who'd be willing to taste a piece of him. On his side was Pollock, his cougar familiar, who trailed along as he walked the sandy shores. "You asked me to come out for what exactly?" Pollock asked him. Lex smiled at the clueless cougar as he sat on the chair he unfolded underneath the shade of a nearby palm tree.
"Look, I would rather go back to where I came from that to stay idle out here for hours." The talking beast insisted. Lex looked directly at the cougar's eyes as he rested his back, he gave the beast a brief grunt in annoyance. "Look, just stay close. Play in the sand or something." Lex snickered as Pollock grunted. With all the boredom in the world, Pollock sat down and started sweeping some sand back and forth with his front paws.
Not far from where Lex sat was a white haired lady, she seemed to be busy with whatever she was painting though, perhaps she was even unaware of his presence. Lex gave Pollock a faint tap to call his attention, as the cougar turned, He then pointed towards the fair maiden nearby. "Ten gold coins says she'll be coming home tonight." He smirked. "We've be through this whenever you try and hit on a girl, familiars don't exactly carry money, but I'd like to see you try this one though." The cougar laughed knowing that the challenge would be much tougher, besides, Pollock does enjoy seeing the old man embarrass himself.
"Damn right I'll try this one. You come join me," Lex said with his gravely voice. "ladies fancy them big cats ."
Hours later than promised (I'm sorry), but lynnelia arnett, @lex
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there's an old man sitting on the throne that's saying
that i should probably keep my pretty mouth shut
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If there is one thing
Sundial has to offer that doesn't make Erin miss home, it's its beaches. White sand and greenish blue waters that could only be seen in Mirrorlight if imported, and never quite as pretty. Never quite as real. The young witch inhales deeply, taking in as much of the rich, salty scent of the sea as she can. She feels the sea breeze in a way illusions could never replicate, strong and playful, playing with her long tresses and the hems of her straw hat and the bikini towel wrapped around her hips. It was soothing, in its own beautiful way, for the few minutes during which the peace lasted.
Afterwards, she decides that the stench of the sea isn't quite as appealing as novels and poetry romanticize it. The sight is still beautiful, of course—it would be even more so if it wasn't filled with throngs of people sunbathing and playing with beach balls and laughing in the company of family and friends. It vaguely reminds her of the field trip she and her own friends took all those years ago, which in turn makes the beach lose its appeal. We're leaving, Siri. Find the best route for me.
The familiar doesn't answer verbally or mentally, but rises into the air just the same, and maneuvers past stray beach balls and water being tossed around. Her witch follows multiple steps behind.
Against all odds, she comes upon an obstacle. Erin looks up in both curiosity and annoyance. Her vampire bat familiar seldom makes mistakes when guiding her, after all. She feels the shadow that his body sheds on her shorter form before she pays him mind. The obstacle, it would appear, was in the shape of a well-toned man wearing an excessive array of gold jewelry and gems of different color and value, making his way towards Morgaine knew where. Erin didn't care. He was in the way.
"Move," comes her voice. Loud, resolute. She's used to her requests being taken as orders, even if they were directed at an older man with his own share of money to bathe in. She notices, out of the corner of her eye, a third agent: a young woman, silver hair falling smoothly down her back as she paints. She knows her. Rather, she knows of her. Seen her around in more recent coven meetings. Hanging out so close to the Black Widow... Erin's mind wanders to a million and one scenarios. "Back," she adds, as an afterthought really, but no less imperious because of it.
Erin's attention completely shifts to her fellow Leviathan witch, then. She assumes the man's going to heed her order and steer clear of them, though it's just as likely that he's going to take offense in her words. Did she linger to find out? No. The young woman's giggle comes, in that moment, as a welcome distraction. "Is that so? I could definitely use some cold right about now."
Honestly, the only reason she considered coming to the beach in the middle of a summer day was because she'd get to wear a bikini in public. Erin's skin had yet to adjust to Sundial's heat. Briefly, she wondered if it ever would, back when she was applying sunscreen all over her body. Cumulative exposure to the sun can lead to severe sunburns, melanoma, and even skin cancer, her familiar had said then.
Informative, Siri.
"You're surprisingly good at this," she comments, once the silver-haired witch's settled back into painting. The nonchalance in her voice might make it seem like they're no strangers to each other, though they had, in fact, never exchanged words before. All Erin knows is she goes by Ophélie, and that her fox is a true blessing. Now, she also knows she's not a complete failure at painting. And Zeph said I wasn't friendly enough with the fledglings? Look at all this bonding. She scoffs at the thought in dismissal.
Post by lynnelia arnett on May 29, 2017 21:45:26 GMT
❧
Lynnelia honestly wasn’t expecting anyone to speak with her — it wasn’t that people didn’t take the time, she just never got used to it even before she went into hiding. Her familiar and herself turned to look at the woman and her own familiar — a species of bat — with uncanny synchronization; contrary to Medea, who studied the woman with an almost suspicious, guarded air and rose into a sitting position beside her witch, Lynnelia gave her a small smile. She recognized her as a coven member — she always kept track of people, due to her inherent paranoia following the events in her life — and, if she recalled correctly, their name was Erin. [break] “Yeah, that’s one of the upsides to her,” Lynn gave a nod to her familiar with a small laugh, to which the fox gave a faux-indignant chuff. “She’s always freezing. I don’t really like the heat myself, so it’s nice when she doesn’t surprise me with it.” [break] Throwing me under the bus, it seems. [break] Lynnelia glanced at the fox following her words before turning her gaze back; she knew Medea wasn’t offended, merely teasing her, so she paid no mind. [break] “Oh! Thank you,” she said, her pleasant expression lighting up further. “The beach is always nice to do some painting; I come down here a lot… I have some good memories.” Lynnelia didn’t react to the scoff, though her eyes seemed to dampen a bit. “You’re Erin, right? I think I’ve seen you around..." she said; it was only right to know or know of the people who shared that tidbit with her. "What brings you here? I’m Ophélie, by the way, and this is Medea.” she asked with genuine interest, giving a vague motion toward the fox; it was only polite to keep the conversation going, and the woman was good company so far. [break] Someone’s coming. [break] Lynn turned her head toward where Medea had her gaze locked, seeing a man with a rather impressive cougar following his path; she smiled at the sight, mostly to be polite, as she had a habit of smiling toward people as a sort of silent greeting even if she didn’t know them. She didn’t want to be rude, though, so she turned back to Erin. Medea, however, stood up to her four foot height, her ice shards glistening in the sunlight as she watched them approach with a tilted head. [break] Why are they coming here? she wondered; she didn’t know their intentions, so her reaction wasn’t exactly unwarranted; she was very protective of Lynn, and seeing a man approach with no prior interaction was a bit strange to her, though it didn’t bother her witch. Perhaps it was because of their trust in one another, but that didn’t mean Medea had to step down simply because Lynn hadn’t reacted negatively.
He made his way towards the fair lady who then was busily painting, a smug grin was fixed on his face. Pollock, who was clearly unamused by Lex's behavior, trailed along. Things went smoothly thus far, however, as he neared the white-haired lady, in came another your woman. Lex, befuddled in shock, took a moment to process what had happened. Move. He was being issued a command, he, Lex, of all people was being ordered to move.
"Oh no." Pollock grunted, worried of what might come next. "Just ignore this one Lex, will you?" Lex remained still, ignoring the talking cougar as he stared at purple-haired lady who had the nerve. "Move?" Lex scoffed arrogantly, though it was too late to respond, purple-top was already off to a different direction. "Oh, fantastic! Hey, where do you- You tell me to move yet-"
Of all the places to go, she went ahead and approached his current target. Just what were the chances? It seemed as though purple-top and silver-top were acquainted. It only meant one thing though, he won't be able to talk back as intended. Lex hissed, he never liked it whenever he's forced to repress his anger.
"That bitch of a witch." He mumbled with his teeth clenched. Pollock, his trusty cougar, shook his head in dismay. "Don't make a scene." The cougar advised. "I can't." Lex grunted as he forced to calm himself. "It'll ruin my style, besides, she's smoking hot, I'll let it pass."
"Look at these fine ladies." Lex said smoothly as he approached the two. Pollock trailed along as he shook his head with disapproval.
there's an old man sitting on the throne that's saying
that i should probably keep my pretty mouth shut
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It doesn't look like
the fox is very fond of Erin. Saying she was disappointed would be a lie. Despite using its—her, she soon finds out—elemental properties as an excuse to strike up conversation with Ophélie, and despite truly being at odds with the amount of UV rays Sundial received, Erin did not mind if the familiar was partial to her or not. She was used to being disliked by her coven mates' familiars, either way. One more bundle of condensed mana to add to the list couldn't hurt.
Still, she has to admit it looked truly convenient to have an affinity for ice. Rather like having a personal cooler. "Ice does sound like quite the convenient element," she agrees. A soft smile is directed at the witch and her familiar's affectionately quarrelsome antics. They were being cute. "A beautiful one, too." Erin can't help appreciating Medea's smooth white fur.
Realizing, in that moment, that it would probably be a while before Erin decided to leave for good, Siri glides back down, and meekly settles herself on her witch's left shoulder. Introduce me, too? she whispers in the enchantress' ear. It takes Erin by surprise, to see her familiar so interested in someone else. "This one is Siri," she offers regardless, the tips of her fingers gently scratching the vampire bat's head, and all the while she's thinking, Do you want to play with her? Is that it? Or do you want your portrait painted?
Siri's ears perk up. Do you think she'll want to?
The mention of her name brings Erin's attention back to Ophélie prematurely, before she gets to answer her familiar's innocent inquiry. Her fingers slow down to a stop. "That's right. We met at the museum a few weeks back, didn't we?" They didn't. Erin just didn't trust the curious ears and eyes, always watching, waiting for a slip. When one's been in Leviathan for years, lying becomes habit. Second nature. She nods. Erin does remember Ophélie, but Medea is a new name, and she takes an extra second to commit it to memory. "I would offer you a curtsey, but I'm not exactly wearing an appropriate attire for it. Nevertheless, it's a pleasure to properly make your acquaintance, at last."
Erin could end it there; she knows. However, she is curious. Was Ophélie here only for leisure, or was she undercover for their coven? Only one way to find out. "I imagine your sponsor—what was her name, again? I always seem to forget—has been keeping you busy lately." She hopes the witch catches on to her true meaning: Was she faring well with the few missions fledglings were issued? In a way, she's being tested. Only in a completely improvised situation like this could one's trustworthiness really shine.
The novice is interrupted. Medea's focus is on something behind Erin, and the latter doesn't miss the way the other witch's gaze drifts off towards the same point, nor the way a smile appears on her face. Erin turns just in time to be greeted by the sight of a man, the same man she had dismissed only moments ago, doing the complete opposite of what she asked—demanded. His necklaces bling under the sun. Tacky, screams every one of her senses, and Erin has to look back at Ophélie, disbelief written all over her face. "Do you know this man?"
Erin didn't want to believe it herself, but smiles gave little room to interpretation.
"Those karats you've got look pretty heavy. If you're looking for someone to carry them for you, I suggest looking elsewhere."
Post by lynnelia arnett on May 30, 2017 5:35:48 GMT
❧
Lynnelia smiled; she always did like the cold, and she agreed that having ice for her affinity was more than convenient for her tastes — not to mention it was simply a pretty element in and of itself. Lynnelia nodded at Erin’s comment of it’s beauty, a pleasant look taking over her features, before laughing at the bat taking home on the witch’s shoulder. “Nice to meet you, Siri,” she said with a genuine interest and care, a look of fondness forcing it’s way through; she was always a sucker for animals, and familiars were beyond fascinating. Even Medea’s attention was drawn to Siri, regarding the familiar with interest. [break] What a pleasant surprise, the fox murmured with ill-concealed intrigue; despite how adverse Medea was with interacting with anyone aside from Lynnelia, she was always interested in other familiars, whether or not she chose to show it. [break] It took a moment, however, for Lynn to register the following question. She took a beat, as though assessing the situation, her pale eyes casting a quick glance over the place. It didn’t take long to piece things together; the Black Widow was so near, and it would be far too risky to talk on the level of coven mates. Collecting herself, she responded with a quick affirmation; while she may be the one chasing the truth, covering her tracks and keeping secrets were her strong suit. [break] It was a nice break to laugh at the cursey call made by Erin. “Likewise,” she said earnestly. It wouldn’t hurt to have some friends, and Medea’s velvet tones wandered into her head — It’s good to make friends. [break] While she didn’t know if Erin really wanted to be friends or not, acquaintances were perfectly fine with Lynn — she wasn’t picky nor pushy, especially not without reason. “Oh yeah, I’m lucky I even had the time to come and paint! Things have been busy, but that’s life, I suppose.” The meaning wasn’t lost on her, just as the previous interaction wasn’t; this was simply how the coven worked, and Lynn had to catch on fast if she were to make any progress in her efforts. [break] “If I’m honest, I’ve never seen him before in my life,” Lynn chuckled a bit at her words. “I just figured it’s better to be polite; old habits die hard.” [break] It was then that the man who had caught Medea’s interest prior to their exchange neared them with his ever so smooth greeting. [break] Oh, lord. What have we now? [break] Lynnelia had to suppress her amusement at the fox’s resigned tone, keeping her expression solidly pleasant, though a hint of suspicion and reproach made it onto her face. Medea was right — just what was happening? [break] “Erm… hi,” she said, her tone a bit guarded; Erin was one thing — someone of her coven, someone she could be a bit more comfortable in getting familiar with. This isn’t to say she held anything negative toward the man — if she were honest, it was her paranoia coming through. She hadn’t even registered Erin’s words, her focus going to the man’s familiar, Medea’s gaze following hers. It seemed the fox was about a foot taller, leaving her relatively unintimidated (though it was hard to intimidate her regardless). “Sorry, what was your name?” she asked after she tore her eyes away.
"I'm telling you, you should really quit this old habit of yours"
Lex sighed as his familiar, Pollock, spoke telepathically to him. "Not everyone would want sleep with you." Lex rolled his eyes, he can't stop now of course, not when he's already in it. Besides, the cougar did say he was favorable of this attempt.
The one with purple hair was clearly a rotten brat. Pollock's eyes widened and took a step back, staring intently at Lex. Pollock remained vigilant for whatever may happen next. Lex winced as he tried to suppress his anger as best as he could, surely she was trying him. He ended up forcing half a smile, it was all that could muster. "Now, why would I let you carry these?" He scoffed at the purple haired lady. "See, I wouldn't want dirt on it." Lex mocked her with a smile.
"Lex, no." Pollock butted in with a telepathic intervention. It was a necessary thing to do, heat was already brewing between the two. If Pollock knew Lex all too well, he very much knew how these kinds of interactions ended. "Shush." Lex replied through his thoughts as he looked down to face his familiar.
Lex cleared his throat and then turned his attention towards the nicer one of the two. "You seem to be nice." Lex said sweetly, giving emphasis to the word 'nice' as he gave a brief glare directed towards the other girl.
"Lex Rocheirr. A pleasure meeting you, and you are?"
Post by Aeliana D. N. Constantine on May 31, 2017 7:35:10 GMT
And, why exactly my dear, are you running off with your camera again? Asked Nagini to her witch. Aeliana had grabbed her camera and taken off running so fast that the familiar didn't even have time to catch up, and decided instead to stick this one out back at their cottage. Because, Nagini, replied Aeliana, with a hint of matter of factness. I got a lead that a one armed man who was VERY attractive was at the beach doing some modeling for a photoshoot. And what if that the lead is true and it IS Master Cassius? I can't miss this opportunity.
You're overreacting, my child... the snake replied, with a bit of a sigh at the end. This wasn't the first time and it wouldn't be the last time her witch had chased a blind lead and gotten herself lost, but Nagini hoped that this time the lesson might stick.
Besides Nagini, WHAT IF HES DOING NUDE MODELING? The young witch began to picture it in her mind, the man she admired for so long, slowly taking off his clothes on the beach, just for her. Drool began to seep out of the corner of her mouth as she ran.
Child, calm yourself, your nose is bleeding. Besides, when you get stuck in your head like this you forget to watch where you're going!
I'll be fine MOM, The teen replied, indignantly, just before...
Her foot hit something solid enough, very hard. She felt the world slow down as she tumbled, loosing her camera in the process of knocking over the wooden sign-stand-thing in the process, sending whatever was on it spiraling through the air.
She could only pray at this point, that the people who were near her when she tumbled didn't see, and searching the broken scraps of tough cloth that made up the part of the stand-thing that went sailing, she found her camera. luckily, it seemed it landed on the weird cloth-thing, and survived the fall into the beach. Gathering it up, she quickly threw herself into a dead sprint, trying to get away from the people while yelling out an apology behind her.
there's an old man sitting on the throne that's saying
that i should probably keep my pretty mouth shut
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While both sets of eyes are
focused on her familiar, Erin takes a moment to survey their surroundings. There really wasn't anyone close enough for Erin to suspect them of spying on the pair, but it was always wise to be careful. She does notice a group of witches sharing glances as they circle around three others, and what she believes to be Leila's smooth white hair, but the beach is otherwise peaceful.
Erin's attention drifts back to Ophélie at her melodious laughter. She smiles. Genuine smiles aren't an area of expertise for Erin, but this one comes easily. Ophélie seems nice, Siri whispers, and her witch can't help but agree. She'd probably rise in their ranks smoothly, too, she notes with a nod. "Indeed it is. The busier the better, though. It must mean she sees a bright future in you." It wouldn't hurt to have more higher-ranked witches around her age in Leviathan to hang out with, besides Zephyr and Maddox.
Well, that's a relief. Erin is glad that her suspicions were unfunded and Ophélie didn't, in fact, know the man. "My impression of you would have pummeled to the ground, if you did," she shares, just in time for the man's arrival.
Erin arches a finely styled eyebrow at his retort. It was obvious the smile he carried was hardly containing the anger seeping inside. "You didn't?" she asks, half-heartedly feigning surprise. The anger provoked by her quips was always amusing to watch. Both of her eyebrows furrow into a seemingly confused frown, then. "I'm afraid it's too late, then. But don't worry: the sea is just over there. If water isn't enough to cleanse them, surely salt will do the trick."
She snorts. Was he really trying to flirt with Ophélie after such a display? She would happily watch him try.
Not even Siri is able to warn her of the quickly approaching girl, caught up as they all were in the tension-filled exchange. Even stranger still was her retreat. She'd toppled Ophélie's easel over, the canvas was broken, paint mixed and splattered all over the sand, not to mention the mess they had over their own bodies. Despite it all, Erin can't muster pity over the spoiled painting beyond merely saying "That's a pity." After all, now she got a chance to make her painting again, and do it even better.
All of Erin's emotions, instead, are focused on the retreating figure of the pink-haired girl. "Do you want me to drag her back? Say the word, and I will." She's honestly tempted to create an invisible wall, just in front of her, that she can collide against.
Post by lynnelia arnett on Jun 1, 2017 0:34:45 GMT
❧
Lynnelia gives a promising smile at the thought that her future could be better than she’d anticipated after everything that had happened; what a wonderful notion. “I hope so,” she said plainly, though her tone still held a friendly, pleasant air. [break] At Erin’s following words regarding the man they’d spotted, Lynnelia chuckled, and Medea gave an amused hum, though she quickly suppressed it once his rather unfavorable attitude toward Erin had registered. [break] I would say his frustration with her is thinly-veiled, but I’m not so sure, Medea’s silky voice chimed in, the fox’s gaze locked on the man with fierce intensity — it was clear she was watching him, almost analyzing if you will. [break] Okay, well, he’s not gonna kill me or her so you don’t need to stare daggers at him. Medea simply puffed out a cold breath, but slowly turned her eyes away. [break] Lynnelia sighed, almost inaudibly; she was about to comment against how rude the man had been — it was clear he didn’t take to Erin from the start, perhaps even before then, but Lynn didn’t see a problem with the woman; while she didn’t necessarily approve of either of their reactions, her tolerance was enough to look over it. Before she even knew it, the man had actually turned to address her. [break] “Ophélie,” she offered, her brows raising slightly, her hand coming up to whisk away the stray locks of her hair which had fallen across her face. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to know his intentions, if she was being honest with herself. “What brings you here?” [break] It was technically an honest question, and she hoped it came out right, but she really just wanted to know what was going on at this point. [break] I don’t understand people, Medea scoffed. One second they’re rude, and the other they turn around and try to make nice. [break] Lynnelia was about to cast a sidelong glance to her familiar before something collided with her— [break] —and with her supplies. [break] She didn’t have a moment to register what was happening before she was sprawled on the floor, having hit her head on the edge of her easel as it toppled over, the force damaging the canvas she’d been using beyond repair. Her palette had splashed and smeared everywhere, the brushes gone flying as well. Medea was instantly at her side, pressing her cold body to the back of Lynn’s head; It’s best to keep ice to promote healing and suppress pain. Despite her calm words, Lynnelia knew the fox was worried, but she shrugged her off. [break] Her pain, however, had quickly given way to frustration and anger, whipping her head around and growling, “Hey! What do you think you’re doing!” When the witch in question didn’t pay her any mind, she yelled for her to “Get back here!” before giving up with a frustrated breath. [break] After having calmed herself to a point where she could not be a raging lunatic, she turned to the other two witches, her expression immediately melting from fury to genuine concern and guilt. “I- I’m so sorry, oh no,” she groaned, pressing the palm of her hand against her forehead and closing her eyes, though all that accomplished was smearing paint on her face. She pulled herself up and began trying to find all of her missing brushes, and it was clear that her mood lifted slightly when she found some undamaged canvases and the fact that her extra paint bottles had survived. [break] “I’ll pay for your ruined clothes,” she said earnestly; she did feel bad, even though none of this was her fault, but these people were simply talking to her and yet they had to deal with this mess now. How horrid.
there's an old man sitting on the throne that's saying
that i should probably keep my pretty mouth shut
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Ophélie doesn't agree to
her exact terms, but calling for the runaway girl to return counts just as much as a yes, in her books. So she does it. No movement from the enchantress' part is required. The simple desire to build this thick wall of magical glass-like properties is enough, after all the practice she'd gotten in the past few years, to force the mana surrounding them to shift under Erin's will. All that was left was for the girl to notice the stalling structure, which shouldn't take long now. Erin made sure to build it far enough that the running figure wouldn't pass it before it solidified completely, but close enough that the furious Ophélie wouldn't have to wait long.
Speaking of the painter, she probably could use some help picking up her things. The canvas she was painting of the sea, itself, was ruined, but that doesn't mean everything is. Even if such was the case, it certainly wouldn't do to leave her painting supplies splattered all over the beach.
"Don't bother, I likely wasn't going to be wearing this set again after today," comes her answer to Ophélie's offer to reimburse them for their clothes. Erin was used to buying clothes to wear on a single occasion, anyway, and she was unlikely to come back to the beach until winter rolled in again. Honestly, it wasn't even the white-haired woman's fault that the whole mess had happened. "Perhaps our wealthy friend here will give up one of his gems to get you new supplies," she adds, mocking as her eyes fly briefly to the man in question.
"Let me help."
Now, of course, Erin's way of helping would not involve actually crouching down to pick the stuff up from the sand. What she does, instead, is another feat of mana manipulation. She picks out brushes and paint bottles half-buried in the sand apart with her eyes, and calls out to them, one by one. One by one, they come to levitate in front of her.
By now, she considers she's given the pink-haired girl enough time to catch up to her magic wall, and that she's probably knocked out cold or knocked in some other way some good feet away. Erin begins to do the same with the articles of clothing she remembers her wearing: calling for them to return to where the rest of the group stood. The pull is considerably lighter, and slow, considering she's not wearing a lot of clothes herself. An accidentally exposed bit of skin was the last thing she wanted to add to the list of things she saw today.
Patience, regretfully, has never been one of Erin's outstanding virtues. She probably pulled at the girl's hair clip too hard, because it disentangles itself from her hair and makes its way to Erin's hand before its owner does.
Post by Aeliana D. N. Constantine on Jun 24, 2017 5:50:49 GMT
492 words
OOPS
►
She was too focused on trying to get to the other end of the beach to notice the sudden appearance of a solid wall of glass-like energy appear in front of her face. With a mighty crack, her face connected with it, her body carrying on ahead of her as her head fell backwards, her whole body falling upon its back in the sand. The world spun around her as she attempted to regain her senses, her sight slowly coalescing into understandable images.
By the time thoughts began to return, she suddenly noticed her body being dragged backwards against the ground, and whatever was dragging her was doing it by her bathing suit. Out of pure embarrassment and reaction, her hands shot to cover herself and hold on to her tugging swimsuit, doing her best to hold it on against the straining strings. She found herself flustered however as the clip that kept the back portion of her braid untangled itself and flew off in the direction she was being pulled. A small squeak emerged from her lips as her one of her hands flew up out of pure reflex, and then she pulled it back down to cover herself again. As she slowed down, she found herself back at the feet of the people who’s stuff she had accidentally knocked over.
Looking up from her spot on her back, she realized just how pissed these people were, and immediately flipped over onto her knees in a full kneel. She hoped that perhaps an honest apology would make up for her actions. Putting her forehead to the ground, she begged the people for forgiveness. “I’m so, so, so, so sorry for knocking your things over. I was in a rush to go and get some photos, and I didn’t see you, and I’m so sorry, and if there is any way I can make it up to you…” The girl began rambling, her face in the sand.
In the distance, an 8 foot long Tiger Snake the size of a jungle python and giving off the faint glow of embers began slithering up across the sand. “Darling, what on earth have you gotten yourself into this time,” begun the snake, its voice soft and kind, but with the sort of unbelieving that a parent would hold. “I swear if this has anything to do with what I think it does, you are in big trouble.”
The snake made its way up, wrapping itself calmly around the softly crying girl eyeing the messy and seemingly pissed people who gathered around her form. “I apologize for any trouble she may have caused. We would be happy to reimburse you for the trouble. She can get a bit…single minded and carried away in certain circumstances, and I fear this was one of those. If there is anything that you require please, let us know so that we can repay you and be on our way.”
Post by lynnelia arnett on Jul 1, 2017 17:55:44 GMT
❧
Sometimes Lynnelia couldn’t help but wonder what she’d done to be put in such strange situations; had she been cursed by some sort of voodoo magic? Did witches even practice such things, at least anymore? She didn’t know, still bent over and collecting her supplies, cursing to herself (and that girl) inaudibly as she did so. [break] You know it’s best for you to settle down, yes? [break] Lynnelia didn’t respond to the fox, nor did she look at her. She was a bit more than peeved — and even a bit embarrassed — from the whole ordeal. In fact, she was so caught up in her own emotions for a few moments that she hadn’t even noticed Erin’s spellwork to stop the responsible witch in her tracks, merely registering her words instead. [break] “Well, regardless, I’m sorry it’s been ruined; probably didn’t come to the beach expecting to be… well, splattered in paint,” she ended her words with a small laugh both to calm her nerves and shift the mood a bit, though there was still plainly evident annoyance playing in her gaze. Lynnelia was about to tell the witch that it wasn’t necessary to help, as she wouldn’t want to inconvenience her more, but before she could say a word, Erin had successfully — and magically — picked her supplies out of the sand to levitate them midair. [break] Lynnelia smiled graciously, thanking her for the help before plucking the supplies from the air and organizing them as they were; or, well, organizing them as much as she could considering there were some damaged goods in the mix that complicated things. She hadn’t noticed the hairpin come flying as she did so, her attention shortly after caught by the witch at fault herself as she was apparently dragged over. [break] “Nice spellwork,” she complimented Erin sincerely just before the other witch was standing before them; it was definitely useful, and the woman was skilled. [break] Lynnelia regarded the girl with a curious, though evidently irritated, look; was she… begging? Lynnelia’s eyes fluttered closed for the moment as the girl pleaded with them— did she have it in her to truly extend the effort in telling this witch off? [break] Her gaze flickered to her supplies once more. Yes, yes I do. [break] “You ruined all of my art supplies and all of our clothes. I doubt any sort of… of picture can be worth so much that you can so carelessly barrel through here without minding where you’re going.” She was really trying to be as nice as possible about it, but art supplies cost so much gold and she wasn’t exactly swimming in it; because of this, her tone had an undeniable edge to it despite her attempts to weave in a more pleasant, though scolding, air. [break] It was then she turned her focus toward the snake that was likely the girl’s familiar as it approached the three of them and began to speak. Before she could open her mouth to respond, it seemed her own familiar was keen to scold as well, feeling as though they’d been slighted. [break] “Oh, I’m sure you wouldn’t mind reimbursing, or at least putting something forward to replace these; that’s considerate enough of you considering these supplies are not exactly the cheapest in Sundial. It's a kind offer of you,” the fox said, and though her characteristic, calming and soft voice made her words seem less cold, there was an evident dryness to it— she was just as displeased, if not more, as her witch.
there's an old man sitting on the throne that's saying
that i should probably keep my pretty mouth shut
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Laughter is the last
point in Erin's list of appropriate reactions to getting your painting supplies ruined, no matter how light, but she supposes Ophélie knows better than Erin. She was, after all, the owner of all these supplies, and the main affected party. Meanwhile, this incident would make only the smallest of dents in her gold accounts. If laughing made the witch feel better, Erin wasn't about to criticize her for it. She already had a lot to be stressed about, apparently.
Ophélie's compliment warrants a smile from the enchantress. A smug one, at that. She knows her spellwork to be outstanding, but it was always nice to have someone else point it out. This wouldn't be the exception.
"No problem, darling. Gotta look out for each other, right?"
Then, everything shifts back to focus on the source of her problem. The pink-haired girl's first reaction is to bow down. Literally. The sight brings Erin back to medieval times when it was acceptable for monarchs to demand the people they ruled to bow down. She raises an eyebrow. "Get up. You're making a fool out of yourself," she says. She doesn't want to undermine Ophélie, who was clearly the one rightfully holding the final decision, but having someone so effusively bowing down and begging for forgiveness in public wasn't exactly comfortable. Not in a situation like this, definitely.
The witches and their familiars seem to reach an agreement easily enough. Rather, it's the familiars that deal with most of the negotiation. Ophélie still seems annoyed, and the girl is still mortified, but the latter is willing to pay for the ruined supplies. Erin watches the exchange with thinly veiled disinterest, though she suspects neither of them is likely to be paying attention to her at the moment. She looks down at the hairpin still in her hand, and decides it's about time to wrap up.
"Now that that's settled," she starts, demanding the painter's attention once more, "I was thinking of commissioning a painting of Siri. She's been talking nonstop about how much she wants to model for you, Ophélie." Helping her cover the expenses that this incident produced wasn't in her original plans, but she supposes it was a possibility, too. "It's about time we decorated our new flat, don't you think?" Erin and her familiar are still taking frequent trips back to Mirrorlight, but Sundial was steadily becoming the center of Erin's life now, and sadly her apartment didn't look the part yet.
Before she forgets, Erin turns to the younger witch, and holds her palm open in front of her. "This is yours," she adds simply. No apologies, no explanations; just returning what wasn't hers to keep.
