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.
A tram car. Sundial, to his memory, had a hundred or so tram cars running about the city 24 hours. It would likely be a mission to test their patience and then their resolve-- all for the sake of some rich girl's daughter. Hugo felt a familiar wave of nausea at that idea, remembering how his own sister had been, and how she had never quite made it past a certain age. She had loved fables too. And as much as one could resent the government's mission system for being easily abused by the rich, Hugo did not know if his hate per se would ever be justified. So he chose not to be a hypocrite about things.
Smiling and looking over to the red head novice that joined him, he said, "So Kasimir, was it?" They had decided to go to a nearby station to test their luck and maybe as some officials, ad were nearing the destination at this point. "What do you think of our predicament?" Hugo really didn't know what else to ask the stranger, but he felt like leaving the duo in silence would only serve to further sour their mood.
They arrived at the station where a tram had just docked and a crowd of people were waiting for the next one or climbing on board. A quick look over revealed the tram did not contain the fabled piece and Hugo sighed, putting his hands in his pockets. He turned to Kasimir. "Do you see the official anywhere?" Maybe an employee would have seen a flying piece of paper roll by. Provided the tram had passed this station at all, of course.
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Jun 6, 2017 13:54:59 GMT
kindred tales
reality is a lovely place, but i wouldn’t want to live there
tram lines: a webwork of ten thousand gossamer-thin strands gleaming gold and criss-crossed across a city that breathes magic; a patchwork of cobblestones beneath his feet painted in the watercolour hues of a verdin's plumage, the rumble of bronze and copper cogs trapped in eternal revolution as they propel the tram cars forth shade the air of downtown sundial. to find a single page in this vast, ever-shifting network: a mission tediously difficult.
but he would not complain if it were mere tedium that was his primary objection. no, such a mission he would vastly prefer over the more challenging pursuits he is typically assigned - when the challenge comes at the cost of questionable morals at best, well.
and this mission, regardless of the innocuous initial description of which he had been content to fulfil, has, with the herald of a silvertongue messenger pigeon, taken on taken on thee same darker undertones and grime that so coats his normal undertakings.
it is by far nowhere near the worst thing he has done or will do, but still it speaks a little too close to betrayal, feels a little too much like ashes on his tongue and the bitter resignation of forced subjugation. with such thoughts weighing down his mind, kasimir follows his partner's lead without protest, mired in a silence that could well pass for his typical reticence but three shades darker.
he does not actually expect zimmerman to engage in dialogue with him, not when he has given no signs of the openness typically appreciated by most, not when he is far too used to the isolation of solo missions or the professional discipline of silvertongue endeavours. "yes," he responds after a brief pause in which he attempts to deduce what the novice wishes to hear. ( he does not know ) "the mission... seems to be quite tedious."
a platform, a tram, a crush of people and no paper in sight. of course it will not be so simple. kasimir suppresses a grimace at his predication of the day lying before them. eyes flitting over the faces of those occupying the station, searching for that distinct uniform, he presses his lips together and shakes his head at zimmerman's question. "unfortunately not," he says, a faint note of apology in his voice. if only. "a manual search may be our only option."
Hugo moved his arms upwards towards the sky, stretching and relaxing his muscles as though he had already had a long day despite his long day only just beginning. "Exactly what was on my mind," he affirmed, shaking his head at the state of things but looking back towards his partner to make sure the rather reserved red head wasn't feeling too uncomfortable.
Hugo's eyes narrow and he's forced to cose them and sigh from distaste. "Every tram in Sundial... a lot better ways you can spend a Friday afternoon, eh?" He turns back again clearly rying hard to be friendly and managing to remain so despite being met by simple responses. He frowns at the male's quick search for a witch in uniform, and stops to step about and turn. Being tall has its advantages, and Hugo's double check, too, comes out empty.
"There's got to be a simpler way to do this," Hugo says, lines threatening to appear across his forehead as he ponders the current state of things. "We could try asking around? By this time of day, a single tram should have done a few rounds..." but the thought trailed off because in the end there was no way to be certain.
"We could mark trams as they come and move to all the stations..." Hugo offered. At the very least they wouldn't lose their minds keep track of numbers and destinations that way. There were many things they could do, but what should they do? Maybe if they just starting doing things would fill in eventually and luck would turn to their side...
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Jul 2, 2017 13:16:32 GMT
kindred tales
reality is a lovely place, but i wouldn’t want to live there
there is an easy affability to the blond haired novice, an amiable countenance behind which kasimir can detect no hint of malice or ulterior motive. that may not mean much - his cold reading skills are hardly infallible, and it is his nature to be as cautious as possible ( some may, in fact, call it not caution at all, but paranoia, a mentality etched into the core of his bones ), however he finds himself relaxing a little, unwinding slightly from the tightly coiled spring of tension and stone-cold defensiveness that he had begun this endeavour with.
that does not mean he is any better at engaging in small talk, however. kasimir lets out a small hum in agreement with zimmerman's statement but does not add anything more - what else is there to say? it is... a struggle sometimes, interacting with other human beings without coming across as either cold or aloof. not that he is succeeding now.
perhaps it is for the best, given the orders writ in secrecy like shackles around his wrists.
"I doubt many tram farers would take notice of a single piece of paper." kasimir offers his opinion quietly as he scans the passing tram with narrowed eyes, gaze continuously roaming, continuously flitting over ever morphing crowd of people. he debates summoning a suicast clone to aid in their search, but decides against it for now. strength should be conserved for a potential conflict should the true nature of his assignment be revealed. if this search should take too long however... he will reconsider.
"we could mark trams as they come and move to all the stations..." hugo says, and kasimir nods. it is an intelligent suggestion. he opens his mouth to say as much, only to be interrupted by the clear ringing chime of a tram bell as it passes, a sheet of paper wedged in its roof fluttering in the breeze.
kasimir blinks once. "there," he says, pointing to the paper; there is an intensity to his voice, a sharp focus in his eyes - ice-cold clarity curls its long-fingered clutches around his mind as he identifies a target - without waiting for a response from zimmerman, kasimir takes off at a run after the rapidly departing tram.
