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 isadora almic on Apr 23, 2017 15:45:24 GMT
Sometimes during the hours of when the Sundial Tower's shadow was near invisible on the ground, there would be a faint scent of new beginnings, even in the hovel. The illusion that there was business to attend or celebrations to be had. But the Sundial tower was leagues away from here, and the place seemed caught in a never ending period of dusk, not daylight.
Dusk for the dejected, in a sense. For the defeated. Because as the sun made its descent into the horizon, the people sank back into their normalcy of broken window panes and littered streets.
Isadora, too, was returning from a false sense of business. What more had she done than waste another mission's worth of gold on a pass to watch another silly play? What more would she ever do? Was she being pessimistic, or realistic? She wasn't sure, but she found her shadow growing longer as she edged closer to home.
It didn't take a genius to spot a rift in the atmosphere, especially when you'd lived in a certain place for so long. Isadora noticed immediately the dagger-like eyes, the stillness in even the wind. It wasn't Isadora's presence, no. She was just another unassuming girl in a dirtied brown cloak and shaggy, rough-cut hair to match.
It was the girl that walked forward, towards her, into the slums for whatever misfortune or circumstance had brought her to this place. Isadora stopped walking forward some meters ahead, if only out of spite and to add to the awkwardness she must be feeling.
The girl's shadow, like everything else's, was getting longer, too.
I know the feeling Of finding yourself stuck out on the ledge
Once more, Vera found herself in the Hovel for reasons beyond her familiar's comprehension. The first time had been bad enough; why would she want to go through this again? Fondue was running out of indirect ways to comfort her and it was stressing him out. Why are we doing this, again? she heard him complain, almost sulk, in a manner that wasn't at all usual in him.
She had explained it to him, though. Or, at least, she had tried to. Vera knew she wasn't as good as her other half at being logical and offering explanations. She'd always believed that was the reason the two had gotten stuck together, really, but there were still times when one's faults could not be entirely made up by the other's strengths. This was one such case.
Looking down at her crestfallen familiar, Vera couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. Their first visit was exploratory—she'd heard of the freshest ingredients being sold in Mavros, and she needed to confirm the veracity of these claims. This time, she was here to overcome her prejudices against the less fortunate... Sundial citizens. Yes, that was a good term.
"Oh, come on, Due. This place isn't so bad," she offered, although the slight tremble in her voice was doing little to convince even herself. She hadn't noticed the glares or the stagnant air and much less the pit that had inadvertently been formed around her as she walked on by. Not until the agouti, sensing animosity in the air, circled around her legs in both a warning and a message that the girl was under his diminutive protection.
However he expected that to work.
"U-um," she stuttered, looking up at maybe half a dozen unknown faces rounding her, as hunters would prey. She laughed nervously at the thought. She probably should have asked Gryffin to come with her. "Do I have something on my face, or what?" she tried to joke, to break the terrifying silence that accompanied sunset.
She definitely should have asked for Gryffin's company. Things weren't going according to plan.
Something about preying on the week enticed a sort of carnal pleasure deep within Isadora's ever-hungry stomach. She wasn't sure what it was, or where it had originated from, but it made life a little more exciting. Watching the girl's expression go from faking confidence to confusion, to losing all sort of pretence made Isadora's mouth split into a wide smile that could only be described as sinister.
"Oh yeah, you do," Isa offered after tilting her head forward and through the cloak so her purple eyes could watch the girl with more eager interest and maybe so that the girl, too, could feel the malicious intent.
She could smell the scent of the holy patron being scared out of their wits and it was hilarious. The people watched from their windows, eyes vacant and wanting. Children, most, but some adults as well. A few shutters slammed, and one of the blinds of a window shut as well. The wind blew low and hissed to a halt, gathering up a cloud of dust in the distance.
"Do you want me to get it off?" she drawled on mindlessly, pulling up one hand in a show of readiness. A wave sarcasm leaked plainly through her tone like the downpour gushing through a roof that no one had bothered to repair. After waiting a bit (letting her response sink in, wasn't that the best part), Isadora offered the girl a smile.
"Hi there, stranger."
Oh, she could do this all day.
I know the feeling Of finding yourself stuck out on the ledge
It was a bit intimidating, if she was to be honest. Maybe quite a bit intimidating. The woman's eyes were hard-focused on her and the quickly darkening skies shed flickering shadows on them that would be sending poor little Vera running to hide behind her mother's skirts, or maybe her babysitter's skirts, had she not been a fully grown woman now. Almost.
"Oh, Merlin, that's so embarrassing! Where is it—what is it?" she fussed, her cheeks reddening.
The woman offered to get whatever was on Vera's face off, which was honestly very nice of her. If she was willing to help her with something as embarrassing as that, she couldn't possibly be a bad person. Things had, somehow, taken a turn for the best—perhaps this woman could be the one to help Vera with the reason she'd come here to begin with.
Yes, she was certain of it, despite the baseless warnings she heard whispered by her familiar.
But, as seconds slowly ticked by and the woman's outstretched hand never brushed anything off her face, Vera's confusion grew.
"Hi there, stranger."
"Oh, um, hi," came her reply, as awkward as she felt in that precise moment. "My name's Vera, you don't have to call me a stranger. That's not very friendly, you know." Vera tries to shrug off the sense of unease she felt in her tummy, but it seemed it had stuck to her clothes as much as the weight of the Knight's Badge she had magically pinned over her chest. Shining. Begging for attention.
"I would be extremely thankful if you could, yes..." she added, her voice unusually small and high-pitched. "Please?"
Post by isadora almic on Apr 26, 2017 14:37:05 GMT
Isadora's stare (something she takes pride in as a mother does her children) was not in born, no. Maybe, there was a time when she would have not had a stare at all, or maybe if things had panned out a little differently, she'd be in the girl's place. But alas, the tumultous winds of fate had brought her hear, reared and ready like a panther stalking its prey.
Persephone blabbered in her ear, as the little devil's conscience that she always ended up playing the part of. Oh, how lovely, she looks like the fussy type. Look at how her cheeks are turning so red, ahh~ Almost redder than that badge on her chest. Are you going to do something about that Isa? Oh who am I kidding, I know you are. You're such a terrible, terrible person. Oh my god, she thinks you're being serious still. Is her head that hollow..? I wonder what kind of sound it makes if it ever were to roll.
As usual, Percy reached the edges of borderline morbid before shutting up and letting Isadora's mind be tranquil once more. Though for once, it wasn't. Her eyebrows soared across her forehead, eyes laughing cruelly but her lips merely twitching upwards in response to the girl's pathetic show. This was almost too easy, but never the less entertaining.
"My name's Vera, you don't have to call me a stranger. That's not very friendly, you know."
Isa clicked her tongue in mock distaste. "Preaching only a second after you've come here, Vera?" She elongated the name like you do a wad of gum, making it more undesriable that it began as. "You lot really are all the same..." She muttered this quietly, of course, voice a whisper readily misheard. "Alright then, close your eyes..."
She gave the running agouti one look before turning to Vera to make sure she was closing her eyes. Hand outstretched, she nicked the knights crest from Vera's chest and pulled in back into her grasp, watching it twinkle with wide eyes as she began to disregard the girl in favour of her badge.
I know the feeling Of finding yourself stuck out on the ledge
"What? Oh, dear, I'm sorry, I wasn't meaning to preach; that was definitely not my intention—" she tried to argue, to stop this lovely person, the only person to approach her and pay her any mind when everyone else just stared in silent judgement from afar, from giving up and doing the same as them: hating her for no reason. Or hating her for her shamefully careless appearance. Or perhaps they did have a reason, but that thought never crossed her mind, not even her familiar's mind.
He loved his witch too much, after all; he was too biased.
But. But the woman was willing to help her, still. She asked Vera to close her eyes, and so the trusting naïveté did, no questions asked. At least, not yet. Once she was sure the source of her embarrassment was dealt with, she would give voice to everything she wanted, but right now she just needed this. This security and this half-promise of less animosity directed at her.
What she felt with her eyes fluttered closed was not the dusting off of something in her face, but rather a light pull of her red coat. The Helios Knight's red, proud and conspicuous. "Can I open them again now?" she asked, her eyebrows lightly furrowing together in worry when she felt the warmth of her familiar leave her abruptly.
She opened her eyes as soon as she felt the pressure the woman was applying leave her body, and her expression dropped at the sight of her badge twinkling between the woman's fingers. Hollowness, confusion, outrage, realization, anger. Vera's face went through each of these states in a comically short span of time.
"What are you doing?" she asked, her gaze flickering between the badge and the place it should have be on but wasn't. "Hey," she called again. What was going on? Why was she stepping away? Fondue was already on his way to scratch at the—the thief. There was no other word for it; she'd stolen her badge. "That's mine. Give it back!"
The young witch cared little about the scene they were undoubtedly putting on. She just wanted her badge back.
Post by isadora almic on Apr 27, 2017 15:41:58 GMT
Persephone took the second the girl closed her eyes as her chance, appearing (as she so often did) in a burst of black powder over Isadora's heart. The butterfly fluttered slowly, as was appropriate for a poisonois, toxic little thing. She began fluttering where she could, dropping traces of magical, powdered darkness as she went. Oh, she's asking for permission now, Isa...Should we let her open up?
Isadora's eyes flickered from the badge to the girl just in time to catch her emotions wheel through the different stages victims would inevitably make. Something seemed to click- no. he gir didn't have that look. It wasn't like she had realized anything at all, moreso her emotions had been suspended in favor of getting her precious crest back.
Percy warned Isadora from her place, fluttering a little above and behind Vera so as to be in the witch's blindspot. "Watch out, that one's rabid."
Isadora laughed mockingly before disappearing as Fondue's claws would only strike shadows. Dusk was her favorite time of the day. Not because it was a time for the defeated to sulk, not because it was a time for home and returning. It was simply one of those two times where darkness was at its peak. And the witch could only feel similarly empowered.
She SHADOW HOPPED to the very edge of Vera's elongated shadow, still twirling the crest in her hand. "But Vera," she lamented, her voice turning as toxic as her familiar. "Didn't you want everyone to stop staring at you? I'm just doing you a favor."
She jumped backwards, attempting to create uneasy distance as she used her sudden disappearance to her advantage. She wanted time, a little longer, just to truly see what this witch would be like. "Tell me honestly, Miss Knight. Are you here on a mission?" She scanned the girl's expressions, trying to cold-read her thoughts before she could form the words. "Don't tell me you're here for a learning experience."
She could only hope the girl's expressions would tell her she was wrong. Surely the proud little knight had some kind of purpose. Surely she wasn't just here to prove to herself that she could be on equal terms with the denizens of the hovel. Surely, she was conceited. But not that much, right?
I know the feeling Of finding yourself stuck out on the ledge
There was a split second in which the woman's form disappeared, only to reappear seconds later behind Vera herself. Fondue's inflamed claws caught only dark emptiness. Listening to the malicious voice calling from behind was enough to send chills down her spine.
Vera found herself frowning, the fear momentarily pushed aside in favor of confused anger. She did not see how her Knight's Crest had anything to do with being stared at with such animosity, or what it had to do with the dark witch taking the trinket at all. "What are you talking about? How could my crest be the source of all this?"
They were real, honest concerns, but the context in which she voiced them would no doubt make them seem ignorant and foolish. Most of all, though, she didn't understand how the seemingly nice woman could turn out to be so different from what Vera thought at first.
"If anything, that's you trying to antagonize me for no reason," she finished, indignation pouring from her very being. Despite the bewilderment he, too, was feeling, her fiery familiar tried to soothe her nerves. She's just taunting you, she heard him say, which was true, she knew. It didn't make her actions any less disagreeable. What does she know, anyway?
Vera adjusted her cape, trying to compose herself. Her cheeks rose in color at the dark witch's words, despite herself. There was truth ringing there. "I don't see any reason to state my business to anyone doing something so disagreeable," she declared, doing her best to sound final and not as shook as she truly felt.
"Return my crest immediately, and maybe then I can get this incident past us. I'm sure you just had a short moment of bad judgement. There's no need for either of our covens to get word of this." Vera was sure, at least, that the other witch was no Helios Knight—A Knight would never do something as dishonorable as stealing another's token.
Of course, the possibility that she didn't care as much as Vera did about honor and doing the right thing did not eve cross her mind.
She's not sure if the girl's answer is amusing or just plain disgusting, and her expression is quite an accurate reflection of both those feelings. For one, the girl's ignorance makes her want to wince. It's almost no fun when they're this dense, but at least the girl has caught on and realized the cloaked stranger is no longer their 'friend.' Though she seemed to have a hard time swallowing exactly that.
"If anything, that's you trying to antagonize me for no reason."
The disgust and amusement morph into a sneer of disdain, and Isadora spoke again. "Oh, but we both know that's not true. Come on now, a knight like yourself could surely think of the reason why everyone here detests you. Just use your pretty little head for a bit."
The girl flushes and Isadora blinks. She does not, she cannot miss a detail like that. And something clicks inside he when she realizes that this girl may very well be the most terrifying accurate example of your typical sheltered Helios Knight scum. And so Isadora howls with laughter, the cloak falling off her head in a display of her shaggy brown hair and striking violet eyes. Mocking, mocking violet eyes. "..aha, oh my god, you're a riot, Vera," she says, wheezing in an attempt to steady herself.
"Return your crest?" she asks archly, eyes narrowing with contempt. "But the fun is just getting started." The next line made her snicker. "Oh, dearest me, I sure hope my higher ups won't punish me for this."
The sarcasm is so thick a baby could understand it. There is no hierarchy in Silvertongue. It's a network of mercenaries with a so-called leader that changes everytime someone wants to flex their newly found power. There is no responsibility. You are your own responsibility. It's the kind of ambiguous, nonsensical structure that attracted her in the first place. Like a moth to a flame. "So anyway, tell me more about your learning experience," she says conversationally, with the air as though she's already forgotten the fact that she has Vera's crest tucked somewhere in all the layers of her cloak. "Did you want to truly understand the hearts and minds of the less fortunate of Sundial? To learn about them, as a part of your duty as a knight?" She spoke earnestly, honestly, voice soft and polite, like she truly wanted to know. She was being calm despite having laughed at the girl, and something in tone suggested a promise of return, as though she would be more than happy to teach Vera if she were to admit to her intentions.
It was funny, perhaps, in the eyes of a third party, the way Isadora used 'they' and not 'we.'
I know the feeling Of finding yourself stuck out on the ledge
No matter how much Vera tried to think the best of people, there were always those she just couldn't do much for. Those so unhappy with life that she finally decided to leave them alone so as not to dampen her own mood. Even then, she had never before met someone as simultaneously confusing and infuriating as the woman currently playing with her.
The fact that she mentions Vera's coven again is a good hint, but still not specific enough for Vera to understand. "How would I know why you hold such strong prejudices against Knights, if you're making no effort to explain it?"
She doesn't seem bothered by the threat of having her coven be notified about this dishonorable act, either and for the first time Vera is truly at a loss. She doesn't know what to think. What kind of witch didn't care about being sanctioned by her coven? Even if she didn't care about her rank, surely she would about her pay. Particularly so if she frequented a place like this.
Vera doesn't know much about the political or administrative structures of the other covens in Sundial. Learning about them was never necessary, and she didn't much care, since she was never planning to go anywhere but to the Helios Knights. Her coven decision was not only easy in her mind; it was also right. All she could do was assume them to be like the one she did know.
The only remaining possibility was that her bully of the evening was member of no coven. She gasped at the realization without quite meaning to—this whole situation was just so surprising in all fronts. Her green eyes softened, reasoning that few things were as rough as being covenless, and that it was only natural that she'd grown into such a sour woman under those circumstances.
Could it be—Was the reason she'd taken her Crest because she didn't have a token of her own? Oh, Merlin, that was just so tragic. She doesn't even try to conceal the pity in her eyes as her mind wraps around this new headcanon of hers. Perhaps, if the Crest wasn't so emotionally valuable to her, she'd even let the woman take it.
Vera's still wary, after all that's transpired, but the woman's next words catch her off-guard. It's almost as if she understood Vera's reasoning. But, if so, why would she be so mean? Still, she can think of no downside to being honest with her, for her reasons are valid and just. She indulges her. "There is nothing wrong in trying to understand your circumstances," she declares, her tone painfully proud of what she stood for. "It would be hypocritical, saying that my duty is to protect and better Sundial, if I haven't even seen the least pretty parts of it."
She considers asking if her own coven didn't have the same goals, but the scenario she's produced in her head about the dark-element witch stops her. "Telling me why you hate Knights so much could be a good start, actually."
"Oh but it's you Vera, it's you. Fools like you're the reason everyone in this place hates the knights, don't you know? You're giving your coven a bad name, sweetheart, best quit while you're ahead."
Her voice is shrill and condemning, less silky smooth than before, like a harp being plucked in all the wrong directions. It hardly takes this long for someone to melt into a ball of frustration when dealing with Isadora, but she supposes that the best meltdowns are the ones long awated. Persephone sweetly reminds her that patience is a virtue as the butterfly perches on her back, careful not to be seen.
Isadora catches the pity that rifts through the girl's face and the smile on her face disappears, replaced by a hollow, lifeless stare. Can you... she begins to think, feeling the beginnings of rage bubble across the inside of her chest. ..even comprehend what kind of sickening, filthy way you're behaving in?" Her thoughts ebb jaggedly as they become punctuated by her anger, and Persephone wings blink once rapidly, the rage circulating through her through their shared mana pool. "If you think that condescension and building a talking shop is the best first step towards justice, then you've found your answer, Vera. The Helios Knights, protectors of this realm? Don't make me laugh. In terms of justice-- this is where your filthy coven stands."
She takes the trinket from her sleeves and tosses it to the sewers.
I know the feeling Of finding yourself stuck out on the ledge
A frown forms in Vera's face at being called a fool. The woman's speech so far had been derisive enough, but now? The way she talked about her beloved coven was really starting to get to her now. Hate was such a strong word, and she still had no idea what the brunette was going on about. At this point, Vera was ready to leave the witch and her hatred behind, if not for the crest still in her hands.
"Stop that, it's not funny," she demands, although her demands were unlikely to do much at this point.
She pondered, long and hard, about the implications of using her magic in this place. Vera had tried resolving this peacefully, but the other witch was adamant in her attempts at being insufferable. Even if Vera thought it pitiful that the witch was covenless, there was a limit to how mean one could be without consequences. The Knights... Surely, the Knights would not see the usage of magic against someone so openly badmouthing them as punishable, would they?
Well, the thought came too late. Even if it'd come earlier, the alchemist was probably bound to decide against it—after all, attacking a covenless witch, one with no permission to use her own magic and no means to defend herself, was the most cowardly act of all. She was certain she was beyond that.
She was in the middle of arguing back when it happened. "Are you seriously trying to blame us for attempting to help?" was her first comeback. "It's not my fault you're stuck here!" was her second, much more selfish and nebulous one. "At least we're trying to make Sundial a better place, rather than randomly getting into fi— No!"
Vera watches as her precious Knight's Crest falls, in slow motion, to the sewers. Her eyes remain open wide, big as saucers, long after it's fallen down to—Vera shivered—whatever lay below. "What did you do?" she screams, on the verge of tears, as she falls to her knees before the foul-smelling hole. But she's not paying attention to the witch, not anymore; she can only stare in distress so great she can't think of anything else.
[attr="id,"cover"]
We can probably end this thread after one or two more posts?
Isadora can only give the girl an eyeroll when she asks her to stop. As Isadora's attacks get more relentless, he girl loses her cool and begins shouting back at her. Persephone launches off her perch, the anger from both sides filling the atmosphere. The butterfly flittered into the air as though electrified, and Isadora's lips pursed in anger, for once the expression on her face devoid of smug, fabricated joy to lay bare the loathing that lay below.
The helpless look of the girl, the split second cry as she watched the crest fly into the air-- it was more than enough for Isadora to regain her composure.
"Oops."
The girl fell to her knees beside the sewer, and Isadora stared down at her for several seconds. A woosh of air left her lungs, as though she had had her fill for human suffering for one day. Fidget cubes and practicing magical attacks was one thing to let off steam, but this worked better.
"You're right," she said finally, still standing and staring at the mess of a girl before her. "It's not your fault that people are stuck here, unemployed, sick, dying. Not your fault that the Helios Knights are corrupt hypocrites. So why are you trying so hard?"
Persephone perched on Isadora's shoulder, too dark to see seen in the growing shadows. "Don't come here again till you wipe that condescension off your face. Or someone else will do it for you."
She sneered, feeling as though a weight had been lifted off her chest. She turned on her heel and moved to walk away.
Today had been fulfilling.
I know the feeling Of finding yourself stuck out on the ledge
She's sure there are only toxic words coming out of the other witch's lips. If not, she's sure a good proportion of them are. Vera doesn't want to hear them. She completely shuts all external noises out as she stares at the sewers. There is disgust mixed in with despair plastered on her face, but to anyone looking the latter would largely consume the former.
Losing her token, her Knight's Crest, was no small matter. Nevermind the shame she felt at being humiliated by this bully, this rascal, this... no one. She was no one to be criticizing her or her coven; she had absolutely no right to call her a hypocrite when people like her were the reason the city slums were so awful.
No. That wasn't the worst part. The truly upsetting part was the thought of all the trouble she'd have to go through to get issued a new one, should she be unable to recover hers now. From the underground sewers. She shuddered at both options. To face the pity and judging eyes from her fellow Knights, or to subject herself to the ghastly task of diving into literal waste?
Although Vera wasn't particularly focused on ranking up, she didn't exactly want to stay a fledgling forever, and this incident would surely do her no favors in the eyes of her higher-ups... "Looks like we have a winner," she says to herself, aloud, caring little of who was around to listen, or what it was they interpreted her words to mean. She gulps down.
Could things possibly get any worse?
The following hours would see the brunette's question answered. She felt hot tears well up in her eyes as she descended into the sewer system. She'd tried reaching in from outside before, of course—It was useless. Her hands could not reach deep enough from that position, and the gloves she'd tried on at first made the process of palming for her crest impossible.
"Caseus," she sobs when at last she emerged, well into the night, one half of her familiar's true name slipping from her tired, emotionally drained self. She wanted to believe it was all a really bad nightmare, but one could only fool themselves so much. "What am I going to do?"
Half a beat passes before she is answered. First, we're going to get you a bath. Or three.
