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","seeyouhead"]we can navigate the stars
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[attr="class","seeyoubody"]wind nips at her ankles, brushing against the edges of her clothes, and emma races in the streets of sundial, greg gamely keeping up. the comforting hiss of his spiracles is dulled at the pace that they're going at: instead, all she feels and hears is the thud of her own heart and the heat-rasp of her lungs. [break][break] she wonders how it looks: her, a petite, minute slip of a teenage girl in all white chasing down a middle-aged man grasping a bright magenta purse in broad daylight, a couple feet away from running side by side. it's not the biggest issue on her mind, but it makes her feel self-conscious. that's silly, it really is, especially when she's on patrol, but it's not like she can help it. [break][break] greg's wings flutter minutely in the corner of her vision, and she can almost his unvoiced thought. focus. [break][break] "stop, thief!" she shouts, lungs screaming in protest, reaching her hand out as if she can maybe get a grip on their clothes or the strap of the bag dangling in the air, rushing with their every movement, and misses by the fraction of an inch. the mans speed up, kicking up dirt in his wake, and manages to get some in her shoes, making her every step feel gritty. she pushes on anyways, but she can already feel her annoyance at how long she's going to have to deal with the sensation. [break][break] she can feel greg's mirrored frustration, the sensation bubbling up in her in a dark knot, and she's about to speed up when the man stops and she skids, tiny pebbles flying in her wake, and stumbles, trying desperately to keep her balance. the wind cuts into her skin with the sharp movement, stinging, but her focus isn't on that - it's on the man getting away. kasimir burovski ✨
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[attr="class","seeyouhead"]to bring us back home
[attr="class","seeyoucreds"]MADE BY MINNIE OF WONDERLAND
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Jan 9, 2018 12:08:27 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
as cruel or dispassionate as it sounds, kasimir would have very little hesitation in admitting to those who ask that he rarely interferes with the many instances of pickpocketing or thievery he sees - and it is not a rare situation, given his constant presence in areas like the hovel and downtown sundial. the reason is simple: those who pickpocket often are the desperate, the destitute, the ones with little other choice, and those who are the victims more often than not can more than afford to suffer a little inconvenience. he should know, having been in the pickpockets' place in the past; and therein lies another reason. kasimir sees himself within the reflection of their situation, and he can no more just off a cliff than he can bring himself to stop them.
but there is the desperate, and then there is the lawless - those that target victims for the thrill of the crime rather than out of lifestyle need.
it is such a scene he comes across while making his way towards the hireling's keep. a tall, broadly-built man with attire too fine to be one of the destitute, clutching a bright pink purse that is very evidently not his, and being chased by a small slip of a girl with grasshopper familiar at her side. kasimir frowns, lips tightening in disapproval at the actions of the man, and then further as he stops abruptly and attempts to change direction, causing the girl to skid and flail as the loses her balance.
( ultimately, it is perhaps the thought of saskia in her place that prompts him to interfere )
kasimir BLINKS to the shadows by the thief, usually the hard-earned skill of passive stealth to stay unnoticed until the man tries to take off again. he gets no more than three steps before he is halted by a steel-like grip around his wrist, kasimir having stepped forth out of the tenebrous shade and inserted himself into the situation. "please return the purse," he requests politely, a deceptive placidity having settled over his features. there is no warmth to be found in the jade of his eyes.
the thief gapes, evidently startled at having been caught and manhandled; then an ugly sneer begins to wing its way across his face. "you should stay out of my business!" he laughs derisively, eyeing kasimir from head to toe. then attempts to wrench away, the hand holding the purse clenched and as he tries to punch kasimir.
the red-haired witch holds steady, deflects the blow, and snakes iron-hard fingers around the other wrist as well, expression never wavering. "please return the purse," he repeats.
Post by emmaline sims on Jan 11, 2018 20:55:57 GMT
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[attr="class","seeyouhead"]we can navigate the stars
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[attr="class","seeyoubody"]she barely manages to turn on her heel, heartbeat thundering in her ears like roaring thunder, and abruptly halts in her path (that was fruitless anyways - even from here, despite her stubborn refusal to acknowledge it, he's too far away - ) to look upon an unexpected scene. [break][break] "oh," she breathes, and practically glows at greg, beaming at him. "greg, we got help!" [break][break] she doesn't pause for long. emma hurries along, some type of skip-walk, and approaches to hear the sounds of a laugh that makes her shirk away instinctively and then immediately regret it, ashamed. she doesn't like listening to people like him: it makes her feel awkward, as if she might think of the world wrongly if she listens too long. she thinks her parents mentioned it to her, once, and bites her lip to hide her smile from memories of her mother and father. she walks faster. [break][break] but once she hears please return the purse, quieter from how she's lingering at the edges of their interaction, it strikes emma that she really doesn't know how to proceed. it feels rather strange, as if the other stranger has taken up the pursuit for her entirely, and like she's an outsider that doesn't belong here. she toys with her fingers, pressing the tips of them together behind her back. [break][break] emma, greg says. it sounds exasperated, an edge of tired, and she frowns at him, her unease palpable. her breathing is erratic. just approach them, you dolt. you were the one chasing him in the first place. [break][break] i'm not a dolt, she automatically replies, insulted (and a little shocked), and jumps when greg headbutts her softly forward. her uneasiness returns, much more palpable, and emma thinks to herself, a little scathingly, that if she weren't transparently insecure and worried about what other people thought about her, maybe she would actually be useful when it came to what she was supposed to do. kasimir burovski ✨
[attr="class","seeyouline"]
[attr="class","seeyouhead"]to bring us back home
[attr="class","seeyoucreds"]MADE BY MINNIE OF WONDERLAND
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Jan 13, 2018 11:30:24 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
the would-be thief stalls for a long stretch of time, the burn in his eyes oscillating between fury and fear as his gaze darts from kasimir to the girl he had stolen from. another attempt to twist his wrist free and slip away ( which he stops with a tightening of his hold ) and the gives in, evidently having decided that getting away would be worth the bruised pride. "fine!" he spits, resentfully letting the purse drop to the ground. "now let me go!"
kasimir does just that; he releases the man and takes a step back, keeping his eyes trained, steady, on his former captive. experience has taught him to be wary still of any defeated opponent who is yet alive - perhaps not a lesson meant to be applied to civilian amateur thieves, but the same principle applies. thankfully, the man does no more than glare one last time, then hurriedly turn tail and leave.
he lets out a breath, so soft it is practically inaudible; shoulders relax fractionally, eyes close, momentarily revealing the utter exhaustion that seeps into the very marrow of his bones, then open with quiet neutrality settling across his expression. and then the picks up the purse, turns to face the girl.
up close, standing still, she looks even smaller. younger. and she looks worried - uncertain of kasimir, wary, perhaps even scared; there is a tightening sensation in his chest as he momentarily forgets to breathe.
"here," he says quietly, quickly holding out her purse with a small bow of head. "i.... apologise for stepping in as abruptly as i did."
Post by emmaline sims on Jan 16, 2018 21:15:54 GMT
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[attr="class","seeyouhead"]we can navigate the stars
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[attr="class","seeyoubody"]"oh, thank god," emma breathes when the thief agrees - although she doesn't feel like it's an appropriate response, guilt sneaking up on her immediately. the man's eyes flicker to her, if only briefly - less than a second after the moment following when he had dropped the purse - and her hands fly up to her mouth, silencing her. the glare that he shoots feels a little off-kilter, as if he's looking through her instead of at her, uncomfortably close for her liking. it's ironic, considering she had been the one chasing at his heels. [break][break] he passes by her, and she stiffens when the breeze from his movements glides against her clothing. it's silly, really, to think that...well, because he's not a good person that he'll contaminate whatever he touches. but even though she knows - it's not enough to surpass her belief. her parents told her that when she was little. she hasn't been able to get rid of the thought since. she doesn't think they remember. it was a brief, throwaway comment that her father had made when they were eating once. she still thinks about it. [break][break] the man sighs, and emma almost trips over greg. greg nearly bites at her in warning, and she lets out an apologetic-sounding squeak, trying to pull herself together. her jaw sets, about to try saying something commanding, but then he apologizes. apologizes! [break][break] emma can't help it. she bursts into a fit of giggles, covering her mouth with one hand to no avail as she bends over, clutching her sides helplessly. greg pokes at her with a leg, and he looks at her in a way that might suggest he was squinting if not for the fact that he couldn't squint without eyelids. "i'm sorry, truly," she apologizes, and smiles at him, wiping at the corners of her eyes. she takes the bag in both hands, bowing slightly, and beams more brightly than before, practically bursting. "it's just - " [break][break] "i'm grateful to you," she insists earnestly, and clasps the purse between her hands, leaning forward. she wobbles on the tips of her toes, but persists anyways. "i didn't realize that you would apologize for helping. you did most of the work, really, and i don't know what i would have done without you - " [break][break] "anyways," she adds on hastily, covering up the last part of her statement, "really, there's nothing to apologize for. you seem..."more gentle-mannered than i would have taken you for, emma wants to say, but it sounds like a backhanded compliment, so she keeps it to herself. "really nice, actually." [break][break] "i'm off to hand this back to the woman who lost it," she says next, blinking at him, and the invitation to come along with her is clear in her tone of voice. he did do most of the work. kasimir burovski ✨
[attr="class","seeyouline"]
[attr="class","seeyouhead"]to bring us back home
[attr="class","seeyoucreds"]MADE BY MINNIE OF WONDERLAND
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on May 27, 2018 12:57:11 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
she laughs. she laughs, bright like the summer sun, and kasimir looks up with bewilderment deep in the green of his eyes, another apology hovering on the tip of his tongue though he knows not what for. looking to the grasshopper familiar makes the situation no clearer; kirjava's clear amusement radiating in the back of his mind makes it clear she will not explain either. thus, he resigns himself to confusion, though it is difficult to be even slightly irritated for the mere fact that laughter is the far, far preferable option to wariness or fear.
the girl takes the purse with a smile that flashes teeth like pearls, her eyes golden with mirth, and even he cannot help but to soften, to smile back slightly, hesitant and unpracticed as the expression is. she is so earnest, so genuine and sincere that he finds himself drawn into her orbit like a comet snatched by the gravitational pull of the sun. like saskia, he thinks wistful and fierce and startled all in one; perhaps unsurprisingly, he is seized by a sudden need to protect her, make sure she is safe.
( 'don't be creepy,' kirjava comments from the back of his mind; he sighs in exasperation and pokes her in return )
he finds himself flushing at her words, unused to having such positive sentiments directed at him. "i- thank you," he says, flustered, tongue tripping over itself in an attempt to find coherent words. "it wasn't much, really," he protests, then shuts up before he can say anything idiotic. briefly, he wonders what the girl was initially going to say before she rephrased, but really, it is none of his business for all that it was about him.
kasimir blinks, somehow taken aback by the fact that the purse does not belong to the girl as he had initially thought. mental equilibrium is slow in returning, but the invitation to come is clear in her voice. he considers for barely a moment before deciding, hardly a dilemma at all. "the hovel is not the safest of places," he says, as both an answer and explanation. the corners of his lips tilt up. "where to?"
