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 kasimir burovski ✨ on Feb 3, 2018 6:11:57 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
what burns in him is something far brighter than rage, far sharper than fear; he cannot erase from his mind the sight of maddox with visible wounding slashed across his legs and the fire in him snarls. the world lights up in shades of azure and emerald and violet, fierce and fast and swirling up in whirls of windfire as maddox's techniques combine with his own; kasimir's veins burn gold and a rain of fire continues to sweep down from the sky.
he darts down, headless of the flame billowing around him in a nebula of blue; his blade flashes silver as it bites into flesh, ravenous for the copper-salt taste of the blood of his enemies. the nightmare creatures are not so weak as to fall to the first wound, not even to his downpour of sacred fire, but even chimeras of pain and fear and darkness incarnate cannot survive a throat torn out.
one down, a horde more to go.
or- and his eyes flash over to maddox, a figure framed by the towering flames and dancing between them with an axe in hand - a few more down; kasimir catches the instant another monster meets his end at the force of nature that is moosely, a thrill of vicious satisfaction chasing down his spine. he, too, whirls around and greets the chimera leaping for him with the kiss of a lethal steel edge and a spurt of fire ( CREATION ), using his aerial position to his advantage. of course, he does not expect it to leap up at him with claws bared and insanity in its eyes after he had just wreathed it in fire-
pain is not a distraction he can afford in a fight; he forcibly pushes it back-
and with a sweeping slash of his sword, it now lacks a head to plan any new attacks.
Post by maddox rothscus ✨ on Feb 3, 2018 7:52:07 GMT
a weapon made out of air is considerably lighter than a regular one, and dangerously sharper; it is possible that this is what enables him to fight the way he does. each step and move is weighted and deliberate, every swing carried forth with the ease that comes with practice. though, admittedly, a situation such as this calls for improvisation.
there is fire everywhere, burning every shade of blue -- a perfect opportunity. one of the creatures shrieks as it leaps at him, and maddox takes a carefully calculated risk of swinging the axe through the flames ( or as careful as he tends to get, which is not very much ). he carves an arc of crimson and cobalt alike, and the beast screams as the axe slams into its neck. it falls, understandably, and it is only a moment later that maddox registers the taste of iron in his mouth, having bitten his lip hard enough to draw blood.
the occupational hazards of a monster hunter are plentiful, it seems.
out of the corner of his eye he watches sirius dart to and fro, sword flashing silver, like some sort of avenging angel. he spins, the wind-forged blade burning with a fire that is not his own, flames dancing up the haft; he knows he ought to end it before he burns himself. the horde is thinning out. only a few are left, as far as he can see-
a pair of claws sink into his calf and he slips, the ground slick with blood. scrabbles backwards; a pair of teeth close in on empty air; he draws back and swings,
( burns his hands in the process, but the pain is secondary )
he kicks the decapitated beast off and stumbles back upright, just in time to see moosely slam into yet another creature, lifting it with his antlers and tossing it headfirst into the line of a fireball.
techniques used: blade of wind, fierce gale, double jump items used: large rock
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Feb 3, 2018 8:49:15 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
the rhythm driving their movements forth in a deadly dance of fire and wind and steel pulses in his blood, too, in a frenetical frenzy of lethality and death. the horde thins under their constant assault, sacred fire alit in their nightmare-dark fur and wind-sharp blades reducing their limbs by a head. kasimir drives his burning sword through the vulnerable point of a larynx, darts back to avoid the body collapsing on top of him, then has to sweep back into the air to avoid tearing himself to shreds against the claws skimming his side.
another ball of fire hurtled to ward off snapping jaws, another partner to waltz with to death's embrace.
as maddox spins past in a wreath of bluefire and blood, kasimir spares brief moment for a prayer to the uncaring gods that the reckless purifier will not risk his own safety too much - he may be immune to his fire, but maddox certainly is not; then, his heart drops to the bottom of its ivory cage when he sees the witch slip, the glint of claws sunk into his calf.
kasimir hurls himself forwards, sword a lethal gleam of silver in his hands- only to be beaten to the monster by moosely. no matter, there are still more targets besides; he careens into the last of the monsters with azure-green flames wrapped around him till he is more living fire than human, luminous wings trailing behind him with stars in their wake, sol's blessing singing in his veins and glowing in the inferno of his mana spent; kasimir throws himself into the decimation of the last of the threat forged as a weapon of determination and will.
mission prompt here ayyyy #shitpostcentral scrolls used: wings of an angel, divine invocation volume 1: sol's blessing techniques used: pyromancy (skill), sacred fire (skill), creation, wings of fire
Post by maddox rothscus ✨ on Feb 3, 2018 9:13:42 GMT
he takes a moment to breathe, abandoning the flaming blade; the axe dissipates swiftly and takes the flames with it, the night air cool against empty hands. he opts for another gale instead, sending one of the last few creatures skittering off the edge with an aborted shriek, and feels the razor edge of triumph lance up his spine as moosely crushes one of the nightmarish beasts where it stands. he turns to see sirius trail destruction in his wake, a path of cyan-lit embers and ash, and for a moment his brows furrow in concern:
summoning is a pretty hard-hitting affinity, from what he knows of it, and it begs the question of exactly how much energy his partner has used in their most recent encounters. there is no doubt to sirius’ strength, but he worries nonetheless. ( cares less for the blood he can feel on his legs and the increasing numbness of his hands, because those are mundane injuries easily dealt with; mana exhaustion is another issue entirely )
storm-grey eyes sharpen as he resets the environment. it is a breath of fresh air and he works his way through it gradually, letting the mana settle back gently; the embers wink out as the last of the monsters fall to the summoner’s efforts, until the twilight silence begins to creep up on the fringes of the battleground once more.
he raises an eyebrow at sirius and comments, with more levity than he ought to have after such encounters, “you’re intense, huh.” moosely, thankfully, doesn't move as he leans against the familiar, running a cursory post-battle check: comes to the conclusion that nothing really vital had been damaged. it stings, definitely, but he is functional, so as far as he is concerned, everything is perfectly fine.
"did you get hurt? everything okay?"
techniques used: blade of wind, fierce gale, double jump items used: large rock, full reset
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Feb 3, 2018 9:35:16 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
and suddenly, it is over.
silence falls like in an abrupt curtain to end the performance, his fire flickering down into firefly embers into wisps of azure into a ghost of a memory as maddox resets the environment; kasimir's loosened bangs flutter into his face as he blinks, slightly dazed as the last of adrenaline courses through his system, fingers still curled tightly around his sword's hilt. it is quiet. his heartbeat continues to race in his ears.
that was.... certainly an experience - kasimir has not had to summon this much for a very long time. he does not regret it, certainly - for the other option would be to prolong the fight and he would not be the cause of further injury to maddox and moosely for the mere sake of some mana conservation - but, but. he... probably would benefit with some rest. and more training.
but it is rest he cannot afford.
kasimir blinks again as maddox's words crack the stillness of the air, bringing his mind back to the present, to the now. and then he whirls around, sheathing his sword in one fluid movement as he strides forwards, ignoring the question entirely to frantically scan the other witch. leg. shoulder. side? hands. lip. with each injury he finds, his eyes grow grimmer; forgetting all about personal space and boundaries, kasimir reaches forwards and gently touches the blood on maddox's lips, his mouth a grim slash across his face.
then his gaze drops down and he grabs for the witch's hands, horror sparking in his eyes at the burns. "you're injured," he says quietly, a hint of panic seeping through. unsaid is the undeniable fact: 'i hurt you.'
Post by maddox rothscus ✨ on Feb 3, 2018 10:00:59 GMT
he does not expect it: he does not expect sirius to ignore the question so blatantly, nor does he expect him to close the distance between them half so rapidly, a hand coming up to reach for his face. he is dazed, stunned, perhaps, too much to actually say or do anything. ( did he hit his head? he doesn’t remember, but now that he thinks about it, he isn’t quite so sure. )
he is silent instead, blinking slowly, until sirius grabs at his hands -- lets him without issue, quietly compliant in his grasp -- as he stares down at the burns on his palm. they appear little more than irregular shadows in the little light that they have, and if he pretends hard enough they may very well simply be smears of mud and dirt, but the pain likes to insist otherwise.
finding his voice is oddly difficult. “oh please,” he says eventually, catching on to the alarm in his partner’s voice; his lips curl with that characteristic flippancy and amusement. “that was for my own stupidity. and, hey, it worked, didn’t it?”
“besides,” he says, and is slow to remove his hands from sirius’ grasp, “i know moosely would have you think otherwise but i’m not that fragile. don’t worry, really.” belatedly, he uses the back of his hand to wipe the blood from his lips, a decidedly stubborn glint in his eyes as he regards the summoner. “wait, you didn’t answer my question. are you okay?”
techniques used: blade of wind, fierce gale, double jump items used: large rock, full reset
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Feb 3, 2018 10:30:10 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
his stomach twists at the burned skin; kasimir cannot bring himself to look up at maddox, cannot bring himself to read the other witch's expression. his gaze drops down instead, down to where the tears in maddox's pants clearly indicate wounds, where crimson soaks the surrounding fabrics like ink-dark dye in the shadowy night. again, his chest hurts in a way that has nothing to do with injury. there are no words to be found.
so, maddox speaks instead. "oh please," he says, and any difficulty kasimir previously had meeting the witch's eyes vanishes at the flippancy in his tone. his gaze shoots up, expression torn between alarm, exasperation, and horrified concern. there are still no words, but this time it is because all his protests and agitation and anxious worry tangle into an incoherent mess in his throat leaving nothing for his tongue to say.
maddox's hands slip from his grip, and kasimir lets them go, still staring at the purifier with an storm of voiceless emotion brewing in his eyes. "your leg-" he finally manages, and cuts himself off before his strangled tone can reveal any more. kasimir blinks at the stubborn repetition of concern, then waves the question off like it deserves.
"i am fine," he says, and returns to the more important matter at hand. "you should bandage your leg," he says, a hint of something unyielding in his tone. his gaze flickers to moosely, hovering grimly over the reflective wounds on the familiar, then returns to maddox. "there is a suitable location to recuperate up ahead. i can-" he falters, looks at maddox's leg, then restarts. "i can fly us both. it will be faster."
Post by maddox rothscus ✨ on Feb 3, 2018 10:59:25 GMT
the question is waved off as briefly as two short syllables, and again, he is dubious of sirius’ definition of ‘fine’. maddox gets the feeling that further pushing the matter would not lead anywhere, though, not with the steel-strong firmness in his tone. moosely lets out a snort, presumably by way of laughter at this predicament.
“my leg will manage,” comes the protest, and even he admits that it sounds pathetic. yet the fact remains that he does not want to admit -- does not want to acknowledge -- the possibility that he is inconvenienced by a few little scratches obtained from some pesky monster that doesn’t even have the common decency to assume a form that isn’t even properly comparable to a normal animal.
“it’s only a scratch,” he insists again, even though a simple scratch shouldn’t bleed that much nor hurt as much. “i’ve had worse-” and this one is, at least, true. still, his voice decides to stop working as soon as he registers sirius’ offer.
he blinks. once. twice. opens his mouth; closes it without saying anything. stares down at himself, then looks at sirius -- not exactly petite by any means, but maddox has never considered himself light. moosely disappears, retreating into the back of his mind with a bark of laughter. maddox folds his arms, an eyebrow arched. says, mildly incredulous, “you intend to carry me there?”
techniques used: blade of wind, fierce gale, double jump items used: large rock, full reset
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Feb 3, 2018 11:17:41 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
kasimir arches an eyebrow at maddox's insistences that he is fine; there is a challenge clear in the green of his eyes, though beneath it all alarmed concern still reigns strong. "a scratch," he repeats, voice flat. "if that is a 'scratch', i would loathe to see your definition of lethal."
( very pointedly, kasimir does not think about the wetness drenching his side, nor the radiating pain from the claw wounds. there is an advantage to wearing dark, looser clothes, and it lies not only in the concealment of more weapons. he has had far worse, too; more specifically, he has fought with far worse, and that is why there is no need to draw unnecessary attention and concern to himself. he will bandage them later, out of maddox's sight. it will be fine. )
he stares back, steady, as maddox looks at him with incredulity written across his face. "yes," he replies matter-of-factly, and holds out an expectant hand. at his back, light begins to gather one more time, the faint outline of angel wings visible in the night.
Post by maddox rothscus ✨ on Feb 3, 2018 12:00:56 GMT
“i wouldn’t be talking much if it were lethal,” he admits, his smile wry. “according to moosely, that’s enough incentive to try and kill me.” ( and at this point, maddox’s talkativeness is a half-hearted bid to stall for time, of which he uses to consider the fact that he is about to let himself be a considerably heavy burden, literally, on someone who has already expended considerable amounts of mana in a fight. )
and he knows, with as much certainty as their previous run-ins can afford him, that his partner in particular has a tendency to cover up their wounds. it is a habit understandably attained in his line of work, probably. it worries him, but somehow, he cannot quite convey such a sentiment in any coherent sentence, so he settles for narrowed eyes and lingering disbelief.
he sighs, in the end. runs a hand through his hair; clicks his tongue sharply as he mentally berates himself for giving in so easily. he has the grace to look somewhat apologetic as he relents, taking sirius’ hand in his own. “fine. i’m not exactly light, though, so if you have to drop me half-way through-” pauses to cast his gaze up to the sky, then back down to the ground, as though measuring distance, “-i’ll probably survive.”
techniques used: blade of wind, fierce gale, double jump items used: large rock, full reset
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Feb 3, 2018 12:23:23 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
he ignores maddox's light-hearted words, choosing instead to stare at him until he give in. which, thankfully, he does - kasimir was not particularly looking forwards to standing around and glaring down a ridiculously stubborn witch while said witch is bleeding out, all the while there may be more monsters creeping up upon them. "i will not drop you," he promises in lieu of relief, though the sentiment seeps through his eyes; gripping maddox's hand, he considers, briefly, how best to proceed.
then he pulls the witch forwards and sweeps an arm down under his knees with the other supporting maddox's back.
he staggers, first, his side flaring up in complaint at this not-significant burden - the other witch is heavier than he is, unfortunately; but with the iron-stubbornness of one forged from steel, kasimir straightens, mouth firmly knitted in a thin line. breathe in, out, in, out; he reaches for a summoning spell he has so carefully practiced but hidden from everyone; a heartbeat-
and suddenly, he cannot remember why he had been struggling, cannot comprehend why he had been simply standing around when there was a destination to be reached. strength, speed, and archangelic grace - brilliant molten gold shoots through his veins, pools in his eyes; kasimir holds maddox securely as starbright wings flare into existence and launch them into flight.
wind rushes past their ears, streaming their hair back in a trail of crimson and brown. he flies with single-minded focus, mana humming in his veins as he races through the night; any words maddox might have said are lost to his unrelenting resolve.
Post by maddox rothscus ✨ on Feb 3, 2018 13:21:01 GMT
there is not much he can do in this situation, except for go along with this line of questionable decisions. he is undeniably surprised, and it draws a taut line across the set of his shoulders. for a moment, he feels sirius struggle, and the offer to simply hike his way up the original way is on the tip of his tongue ( he makes an attempt to disentangle himself, almost ) but before he can really do anything, sirius straightens up-
he doesn’t know exactly what happens. another summoning spell, surely, but he has never quite had the opportunity to learn as much as he would have liked about it. but suddenly sirius is wreathed in sun-dyed brilliance despite its absence, threaded with molten gold; he sheds the twilight shadows just like that, wings flaring out behind him and then, they are flying.
maddox is aware that he is blatantly staring, and that sirius’ face is considerably closer than he had originally anticipated. in any other situation, he might have made some light-hearted joke about their situation. instead, he keeps very, very still. he focuses on breathing, and on the feeling of wind rushing past them, and realises ( ice settles deep somewhere in his gut and his throat tightens abruptly ) that he can feel blood that is not his own.
“you,” he says quietly, not quite sure if he is heard amid the roar of the wind, or if his words pierce this gold-spun veil that sirius has shrouded himself with, “are an idiot.”
items used: large rock, full reset techniques used: blade of wind, fierce gale, double jump
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Feb 3, 2018 14:10:32 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
the four words are heard. considered. duly ignored. they contribute nothing to the fulfilment of his goal - to reach the destination in mind - nor hold an impact on maddox's health or safety: thus, unimportant. were he not infused with the golden brilliance of archangelic grace, kasimir might have felt embarrassed by his proximity with the purifier, might have felt self-conscious about how he is proceeding. might have allowed himself to appreciate the beauty of the full night sky splayed over their heads in a glittering, spangled sweep of indigo-black. might have spared a thought for what the quiet statement meant.
but herein is the price of exchanging humanity for something vaster than the heavens, brighter than any starburst supernova; herein is the price for reaching out to something made of thunder and stardust and spacetime wrapped up in a heart so fundamentally inhuman; no fragile human shell can contain even a fragment of what it means to be divine, and it leaks out in sun-bright tears and veins sizzling with heat and light and lightning strikes. what room is there to doubt when seven thousand dimensions are crammed into his head, and all lead to the same destination? what room is there to falter when everything small and doubting and human ha burned away under a conviction forged from the first sparks of existence?
they arrive with little fanfare; kasimir alights down next to a sheltered alcove inaccessible to any without the power of flight, the jagged rock formations on either side a dissuasion to any lurkers who have witnessed their arrival. despite the darkness of night, kasimir is luminous enough to cast light onto the surroundings, breaking the pools of shadows into something more hospitable.
he carefully sets maddox down, taking great pains to avoid jostling the witch; then, without a word ( what need to angels have for anything so limiting as speech? ), he leans forwards to grab the bandages his partner is carrying, with every intention of dressing maddox's wounds right then and there.
Post by maddox rothscus ✨ on Feb 3, 2018 15:17:23 GMT
there is no response -- he had not expected one, yet somehow, it does not quell the unexpected flash of disappointment. irritation follows hot in its heels, not at his partner but at himself, for always being somewhat of a melodramatic fool because goddamnit they have monsters to hunt, and here he is stumbling over the trifling matter that is being ignored.
he takes a moment to note that the night air does wonders for clearing one’s mind, and that had their mission been any less pressing, he might have opted to take a moment to simply watch the stars.
they land, eventually; gold dusts the walls and floods the corners, and the alcove is soon a pocket of daylight amid the stars. it is stunning, he thinks as he feels solid ground beneath his feet once more, but for all of sirius’ radiance, apprehension gnaws stubbornly at him yet.
wordlessly, sirius reaches for the pouch of bandages and maddox bats his hand away, gently but firmly. “it’s okay,” he says, that iron-edged adamance working its way into his voice once more, gaze landing pointedly on the summoner’s side. “i can handle it, so you go and bandage yourself up, alright?” he tosses sirius a roll of bandages for himself, before he sits himself down on an outcropping of rock to begin dressing the wounds.
“and don’t say you’re not hurt -- i could feel the blood. just do it so you don’t, i don’t know, collapse or whatever later.” his gaze lingers for a little more, gold light reflected in the grey of his eyes and outlining the stubborn set of his jaw. then it falls, and he sets to the task with fingers moving lightly and deftly, all too used to the process.
items used: large rock, full reset techniques used: blade of wind, fierce gale, double jump
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Feb 4, 2018 13:15:10 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
his hand is summarily batted aside as maddox takes hold of the bandages himself, stubbornness clear in his tone; then a pointed look is shot his way as steel-grey eyes linger on kasimir's side, before a roll of bandages is tossed at him too. he catches it. considers. he is nowhere near the severity of bleeding out, nor will the wounds affect his performance in any way - there is not even pain with the blood of angels coursing through his veins - thus: it can wait.
the current priority is ensuring the health and safety of maddox. everything else is secondary.
he watches the other witch with unblinking golden eyes, carefully scrutinising the bandaging job and ready to lend aid should it become necessary. there is no need. it looks secure, acceptable. blink once in satisfaction; turn away to consider further actions. location is reached, injuries have been addressed; he considers the time, the situation. maddox needs to recover his strength- but first: the surroundings need to be secured.
kasimir stands abruptly, new goal coalescing in mind. "rest," he tells maddox, and turns away with light gathering in a now-to-be familiar spell. ( there is an eerie calmness to his tone, an inhuman blankness to his expression - even at his most impassive, it cannot hope to compare to the complete lack of emotions now inherent to kasimir's being. )