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.
[attr="class","gearcore"] At this point, he wasn't sure if the cards were for or against him. His last hand (a grand total of a measly six) ended up winning him the round by default, as the rest of the players either surpassed 21 or tied with another. This round, he flipped over his cards to reveal a total of eight. He blinked at it, expression neutral. One one hand, that wasn't even halfway to the target sum, but on the other hand, no one had revealed an identical hand... yet.
"Ya flatter me," Zephyr replies to Kasumi with a crooked grin, followed by a nod as she repeats back the train station he'd specified. "My day job. Someone's gotta keep the trains runnin', an' they break down more often than interestin' jobs suited for my talents showin' up." he clarifies.
It seemed that she traveled all over as well. "Mirrorlight, too? That's an awful' big city," he muses, "But I s'pose if I'm visitin', the Central station'll likely know where. Have ya ever taken jobs further out? In Gale Valley, for instance -- not t' imply any connection to recent events, f'course." The last part hastily appended to the question. He hadn't intended to dig, but the town of the recent high-publicity murder came to mind.
A little ways away, Spock was very much enjoying the gentle pet from Máire. Her eyes closed briefly as she leaned her cheek into the touch and hummed with contentedness. The sudden growl, however, caused her eyes to fly open and gaze to snap down towards the source of the hostile sound.
"Dumb mutt. I'm gonna--"
"Don't flip it off--"
"But--"
"Do NOT."
The quick mental exchange between Spock and her human caused the monkey to glower, raising an eyebrow at the fox human's apology. Her uncertainty of the man and his familiar naturally extends to the candies which he offers... though her eyes do flick towards them a few times from the pull of temptation.
[attr="class","paige_lyrics"]all my life is wrapped up in today. No past or future here.[break]BUT THERE'S NO COMING HOME. THERE'S NO COMING HOME WITH A NAME LIKE MINE.
[attr="class","paige_post"]He wasn't the talkative type and that quickly struck her as boring, but she kept her frown off her face. "I had no desire to sit with them." It was an answer, but not the one Amelia was looking for, but she guessed she wouldn't get anything different if she tried to dig for it. A pity. The question he posed made her smile, despite the way his eyes threatened to cut her. "Of course. What else would it be?" She laughed, "You're right, though, I'm being nosy. Personal matters like that aren't my business." She paused to drink her wine. "The high priest said you're an assassin, is that right?" Her voice took a more serious tone as she swirled the wine in her glass, "Can you tell me a little about that?" In all honesty, she had no use for an assassin right now, but she had to deal with the distinct possibility that people might come for her later down the line. It was good to make business connections rather than later or else she might be scrambling for help by the time they come.
High class society wasn't her place, but that didn't mean she didn't have money. She'd been a pirate for almost twenty years and she had a decent fortune built. Not enough for her to live in the lap of luxury, but enough to not worry too much about money, especially when it came to hiring people to kill other people. Assassins were, after all, never cheap and if you wanted the job to actually get done and done right, you had to be prepared to hand over quite a bit of money.
[attr="class","paige_etcs"]
[attr="class","paige_words"]000
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continues bothering kasimir burovski ✨ also i like just woke up oops if something doesn't make sense hmu asfsdafds
Post by Gryffin Bordeax on Aug 3, 2017 20:46:24 GMT
it's the bitch of living
[attr="class","humour"] “Errr, merci.” Gryffin said, attention shifting back to Dahlia. He had been distracted by the mysterious pastry delivery boy — or MAN — and hadn’t really been paying attention to what she had complimented him on. His paranoia just filtered it off as some backhand compliment or a way to pull his guard down. He learned early in life people didn’t just compliment a person like him.
Her question, however, did catch him off guard. “Why am I here…?” He repeated to himself under his breath, barely audible to any others not sitting directly next to him. Should he say he’s part of Silvertongue? It was an obvious answer but if she didn’t know that herself maybe it was best to keep his identity anonymous. Plus, if they didn’t know too much about him he wouldn’t have to deal with them later!
His thick French accent coated his words as he said, “I am ze sous-chef, mademoiselle.” He wasn’t lying, he just wasn’t being completely honest. Even that was difficult for the ashen one, and he avoided Dahlia’s eyes only for them to catch the stranger’s eyes: focused and clear on no one but Gryffin himself.
"the chef? then you have my thanks." admittedly a sweet tooth only satisfied by the delectable treats making their way around the gala. he can't quite remember if chefs typically mingle with the crowd; out of habit, he associates them with quiet, behind-the-scenes work. but perhaps he's out of touch.
a moment of indulgence: he leans over to grab a croissant for himself. he's not hungry, not exactly; in retrospect, he probably should have eaten more substantial before this. taylan makes a mental note to cook something when he goes home, and in a moment of tragic realisation, becomes aware of the fact that he hasn't gotten groceries lately.
the pains of being an independent adult.
tl;drdahlia joshi // thanks Gryffin Bordeax for the food, helps himself to some croissants and contemplates his existence.
she wants to flaunt it, she got that look in her eye
Something flutters through her mind, a file, a face, a name.
"Gryffin Bordeax."
The name slides off her tongue, honey sweet. She knew who he was now, or what he appeared to be anyway. Silly that a member of SilverTongue would allow themselves to be tossed into such a position, rather than actually networking their way through the ranks. She twirled a loose curl through her fingers, tilting her head against her hand.
"I know of you. I won't say how or why, but I do. You...interest me. Quite a bit actually."
No family to be spoken of. Nothing, just one person among many who would slide into the shadows if they could.
Dahlia wouldn't allow it.
Her gaze is welcoming, but like a deep void sucking in everyone around her. She's clearly enjoying herself at least and hardly tears her gaze away from Gryffin as she slides her elbow back to allow Taylan more room to grab his croissant. She's hyper aware of the others at the table, and she's mentally filing away everything they say potentially for future use.
But one thing she knows more than anything is her fellow coven mates.
Her right left slides off the left, and she shifts her position into something more powerful, sitting up straight and smiling again.
"Funny how not everyone in SilverTongue is here to network tonight, hmm? Personally, I'm simply enjoying myself, as my family has for years."
he monkey familiar all but glares at Xue Mei but it seemed as if she was quite tempted by the candy. "Spock? What a cute name. Take this as a gift of apology, its my own peach candy, I hope you like it." He smiled encouragingly at Spock moving his hand a little closer to the debating familiar.
Máire, huh? He remembers a certain person by that name... " My name is Xuan, a pleasure Miss Máire, Miss Spocket. I'm the owner of the humble 'Herbal Haven' in the residential area. It would be a delight if you could come."
He dipped his head at the masked lady while pulling out a business card with an elegant scrawl of the store's name and a printed leaf and potion bottle as the background.
Oh this is interesting. Xuan heard Xue Mei in his head, musing with him. Shall we find out? He receives a purr in agreement. "If you don't mind me asking, Miss Máire, could you be THE Máire Callaghan?" He asked with an expression of pure curiosity.
He knew that the rich and famous would also be here tonight but for an author to be here. He was quite intrigued and slowly committed what features of Máire that was not hidden to the eyes to memory. What kind of dealings would an low-key author need from a den of snakes for hire or did she not know the aim of this gala?
If she was the former then a deal could be made tonight but if it was the latter... Did she not know that she is currently like a helpless little rabbit in a den of its predictors, although to be fair, little fluffy rabbits were quite flexible and he hoped to see this one survive the night.
guilty pleasures, iris. can't deny that they're an interesting bunch.
and really, he can't. for whatever apprehension he bears towards dahlia's cutthroat methods, he cannot help but acknowledge the fact that, if she continues at such a rate, there is no question as to whether she'll get what she wants. it isn't familiarity with the girl that grants him such insight -- there's a distinct lack of knowledge of her true intentions, and frankly, the fact that he's paid a generous salary to stand around and glare menacingly at some people ( or act as a human shield if the time ever comes ) is a significant factor in why he's stuck around.
the other: he can only hope that she never finds out, never has to find out, that the corollary for such terminal velocity is often tragedy. ( then he's thinking of someone else who had tried to shoot for the stars, and ended up with a knife between her ribs. )
there is professionalism in the way he reclines into the seat, and despite his size, seems to become almost insignificant and bland next to the pink-haired girl. the stars always shine brighter against a dark night sky.
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Aug 4, 2017 15:13:33 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
penrose, it appears, is one of those stubbornly insistent people who will not heed the implicit expectations of social interactions and leave kasimir alone when he has made clear his disinclination towards socialising. he is not one to enjoy the company of those who pry, not with his secrets and motivations and self-loathing - even less so with her curiosity regarding what is private, and her lack of boundaries against asking.
the corners of his mouth tighten. if personal matters are not your business, why do you not just leave? kasimir does not say. his eyes speak for him though - green and sharp and roiling like the stormy sky - but his expression remains completely neutral. no matter his uncharacteristic display of impulse tonight may say, kasimir is very, very well versed in the art of stoicism, in the hiding of his emotions.
but even this experience is challenged by penrose's following question. complete, absolute blankness steals across his face, and his green eyes are dark. unfathomable. "what is there to say?" kasimir says finally, his voice deceptively light. "occasionally i am assigned missions that require the removal of specific personnel." a slight shrug; the hint of a bitter, self-depreciating, humourless smile twists the edges of his mouth. "we are at the behest of our coven, are we not?"
[attr="class","paige_lyrics"]all my life is wrapped up in today. No past or future here.[break]BUT THERE'S NO COMING HOME. THERE'S NO COMING HOME WITH A NAME LIKE MINE.
[attr="class","paige_post"]She frowned, then scowled, her mood very quickly dropping at Kasimir's resistance. What was this guy's problem? He'd given her only short answers with no room to maneuver and heavy hints so far and it was quickly wearing on her patience. She may have come over out of curiosity and she understood that question being shot down, but now she was just trying to do business. A sudden blankness took over his face and it caught her attention. There had been subtle hints of emotion in his face thus far, largely in his eyes, but the absence of it all perhaps said more to her than he'd ever intended. He either hated his work, hated the coven, or maybe he just hated her and didn't want any business she had to offer. The lightness of his voice did little to dissuade her from her conclusion and the bitterness in the slight curl of his lips certainly didn't help.
"If you're not here for business or pleasure, then why are you here?" She quickly put a hand up and continued before Kasimir could reply, "No, no, nevermind, you'll just give another worthless answer. I get it, though. You don't want my business so I'll leave you alone to your bitterness." She wasn't going to waste time trying to make connections with someone so unwilling to work with her, not when she still had the rest of the party to work with. For example, there was everyone else at the gambling table, most of whom had been chattering among themselves, largely oblivious to her and Kasimir's existences. She did still take a few steps away from Kasimir to give him his space, but she kept close to the table.
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[attr="class","paige_words"]000
[attr="class","paige_notes"]
Amelia gets grump at kasimir burovski ✨ and the heckin gives up on him and looks for someone else to chat with
she wants to flaunt it, she got that look in her eye
There's a brush against her mind, she can feel Squi Squi getting anxious. She's been here so long, but this isn't the first time he's been pushed aside in favor of a social event. By now he knows how it works but Dahlia knows that he's nervous about Taylan, doesn't trust him entirely, and there's a moment where she taps her nail on the tabletop that she blinks with languid anticipation.
She glances at Taylan and holds his gaze for a moment after the momentary silence that spreads over the table. She wonders if she should break it, but then there's something almost magical about it, about the stress and tension a few words can cause.
You should leave.
She hides a smile behind her hand, feigning fanning herself as she feels the temperature spike slightly.
[attr="class","gearcore"] Well, it looked like a certain familiar redhead was about to win this round. He clearly wasn't winning any personality contests, though. "That one there's the grumpiest assassin you'll ever meet," Zeph interjects as Amelia begins to leave. "He's like that with everyone. All the time. Doesn't matter if he's workin' or not. Don't let 'im ruin yer night." He glances over to the killer, whom Zeph knows by at least two different names already, and offers an unfittingly friendly grin. "Though I'll be honest, I wouldn't mind learnin' what all that doom and gloom's about myself. I've never known someone t' be miserable 'cause they wanna be."
Maybe it was because he'd been in Leviathan for too long, but Zephyr had an unhealthy fascination with chaos. He wanted to see strong organizations crumble and stoic personalities crack. Law and order, after all, was a human invention. Disorder, by extension, was the more natural -- and often more truthful -- way of things.
"Or maybe you're just a nosey bastard," Spock mentally chimed in from across the crowd.
[attr="class","paige_lyrics"]all my life is wrapped up in today. No past or future here.[break]BUT THERE'S NO COMING HOME. THERE'S NO COMING HOME WITH A NAME LIKE MINE.
[attr="class","paige_post"]The blonde spoke to her and she smiled. "Grumpiness is bad for business, though." She hummed, "How does he ever get new clients if he won't talk to anyone?" She sipped her wine again, drinking it much slower than she had the whiskey. She didn't care for it as much and so she took her time on it, drinking it more when she'd forgotten it was in her hand than when she was thirsty or craving the taste. "If you find out, darling, do tell me." Her mood was quick to lift, "And I'll do the same for you. Deal?" And she smiled bright and mischievously, then stuck her hand out for a shake. "I'm Amelia."
Eyes drifted back to the table on the balcony. "You know, a couple of them at the table put money on you." She shared, "If I remember correctly, you won Basil some money, but Miss Sundari's bet on you wasn't as lucky." She smiled as if it were interesting. "You must have their attention for both of them to bet on you. What do you do? Other than gamble, I mean."
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Aug 5, 2017 0:57:09 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
penrose frowns, a scowl scrawling its way across her face. as much as he does not particularly enjoy irritating people - in general, that is - he cannot help but feel relief coursing through his veins at the indication that she may soon leave. perhaps it is not smart to antagonise someone that could have been an ally, but. evidently, kasimir has not been making intelligent decisions tonight.
"if you're not here for business or pleasure, then why are you here?" annoyance is heavy in penrose's tone, and kasimir wants to laugh. or cry. he does neither. if only she knew. he, thankfully, does not get a chance to reply before she forges on. "no, no, nevermind, you'll just give another worthless answer. i get it, though. you don't want my business so i'll leave you alone to your bitterness." she flicks him an irritated look before she turns and walks away.
a few steps away, to be precise.
where a familiar blond stands.
and starts talking about kasimir as if he where not there; as if he could not hear every word they say.
why is this his life.
oh wait, he does not need an answer. he knows full well why.
[attr="class","gearcore"] Spock accepted the candy from the stranger, though with much uncertainty. Wasn't accepting candy from strangers against some sort of rule? Was it a rule to keep her safe or to prevent her from enjoying tasty sweets? She wasn't entirely sure, but didn't want to get poisoned in the middle of a party, so she plops the treat into one of her pockets for later. Maybe human clothes -- at least the variety with pockets -- weren't so useless after all...
Spock zoned out a bit as the man traded pleasantries and paper scraps, fiddling with the petals of her newly acquired flower as her eyes flicked around to the various curiosities of the room. She's brought back down to earth, however, when the man guesses a name.
Máire who?
Was this girl important? Or famous? Spock blinks and tilts her head ever-so slightly at the herbal shop owner. The most important question, of course, was what that name meant to him.
--------------------
Meanwhile, Zephyr is having a much better time with his new acquaintances. "Well I s'pose there's some charm in th' etermal grump," Zeph offers the woman with a shrug, "I mean, could ya imagine hirin' an assassin who's just a lil too happy with their work? That'd be just plain unnervin'." He mirrors her grin and accepted her hand, "Zephyr. An' it's a deal."
He glances up at their audience when Amelia mentions some of the viewers had bet on him. He was certainly surprised, especially with how he'd won most... no, all of his rounds just from other people stepping on each other's feet. "I'll bet he cheated," Zeph said, smirking briefly up towards the man who'd made some money off of his bizarre luck tonight. It wasn't a stretch to assume that an aethenium user of his level could see right through the cards if he wanted to.
"I do all manner o' activity. Buildin' machines, gatherin' bits o' info, stealin' food at fancy parties--" he snatches another one of those tasty rolls Spock had grabbed earlier as a waiter walks past and pops it in his mouth, "--Y'know, whatever catches my fancy in th' moment. What of yourself?"
[attr="class","paige_lyrics"]all my life is wrapped up in today. No past or future here.[break]BUT THERE'S NO COMING HOME. THERE'S NO COMING HOME WITH A NAME LIKE MINE.
[attr="class","paige_post"]"You ought to enjoy your work, though, don't you think? If you don't like what you do, then what's the point?" She offered as she eyed Kasimir carefully, "Moderation is important, though of course. I'd rather work with someone who can have a little fun, y'know?"
She laughed at the casual accusation that Basil cheated. "Maybe he did, but cheating's what's fun about gambling." She hummed, "It's much more exciting that way. You don't know if someone's got extra cards in their sleeves or they rigged the deck or what but it's so much fun to try to find out!"
Machinery? That was certainly one she hadn't heard yet tonight. "I'm just an old sailor from elsewhere. Or used to be, rather. Still got my ship dry docked, but the sea hasn't been kind to me lately, so I've decided to try my hand at land work. I'm your typical muscle, I suppose. If you need any heavy lifting done or someone roughed up, don't hesitate to track me down, Zephyr." She turned to face Zephyr properly, "What kind of things do you build, boy?" Her interest was genuine and not just to keep the conversation flowing.
