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"] Zeph had left his apartment late this morning with little more than the intent to find some crafting books. Although he wasn't disillusioned enough to believe that he was the very first to create machines to leverage mana, the subject certainly wasn't a major literary genre. This made learning from the experience of others a bit of a challenge.
The festival which he stumbled upon in the middle of his little quest was an unexpected surprise. Despite having already visited a number of libraries and bookstores, he'd only found one tome with any potential, so the distraction (and free chocolate, of course) was welcome. Even so, he wished he'd known about it ahead of time so that he could have brought along some company. The next best thing, he reasoned, would be to bring a bit of the festival back with him to enjoy with someone else.
And so, following this train of thought, he soon found himself at the doorstep of Saoirse's home, carrying his one found book, a box of chocolates, and some pink flowers. Zephyr honestly didn't know anything about flowers, nor if Saoirse even liked flowers. What if she was allergic? She probably would have already told him about something important like that, right? Before he could think more about all the things he didn't know, Spock leaned forward from his shoulder and knocked on the door in the pattern which was designed to specifically indicate that Zeph had arrived.
"Wow. Rude," Zeph commented with a smirk, earning a few knocks on his head from the impatient monkey. His free land lifted to the point of impact to catch the playful blows as the two of them waited to be let in.
Post by saoirse ó floinn on Mar 5, 2018 11:19:30 GMT
it's only through sheer force and luck that she's yet to take over the world
❝
The sound of the kettle whistling away in the distant kitchen arouses the attention of a sable lounging on the chest of his witch, his little head raising in irritation at the high-pitched screech. A tap of a paw upon his witch's nose has her stirring awake, a dainty hand coming to scratch at the little tickle where Marchosias touched her. Pink eyes blink blearily at the ceiling and she sighs, realising that she had dozed off while waiting for the water to boil.
'Ah, shit.' She thinks with no great urgency.
Pushing up from the comfort of her plush couch, she plucks her familiar from her chest and places him back on the cushion. Her hair, mussed from its previously squashed state, falls in disarray around her shoulders, no longer holding the shape of even a messy bun. Pulling the hair-tie out to tidy up, she walks into the kitchen, all while looking outside her window to see soft sunlight shine through the glass. It must be noon.
The kettle seems to increase in its screams when she approaches, as if fearful for its inevitable silencing. Switching the gas knob off, she pulls her favourite mug out—one big enough to cup and with the constellation Scorpio drawn with black and gold—and dumps a heap of Earl Grey into a ceramic tea strainer. Picking up the now-quiet kettle, she quickly makes herself a cup of tea before returning to the living room where Marchosias still snoozes away.
Sitting down on the other end of the couch, she stares out the window in front, seeing the brick wall of the house opposite. Sound travels in from outside—an assortment of chatter and faraway cheers—not quite disturbing the peace. Crossing her legs, she leans her head against the back of the couch, wondering how long it would be when she next hears those noises after she leaves. Maybe she shouldn't.
Before she can muse further, a familiar knock comes to her door and whatever low mood she had been in dissipates, replaced by delight. Scrambling, she quickly puts her mug down and stands, smoothing down her sweater and running her fingers through her hair. Dashing to the door, she opens it with no hesitation, albeit with a certain amount of shyness as she peers at her visitor, body half-hidden. She blushes lightly at the sight of flowers, smiling at Zeph. Pressing her cheek against the wood, she says, her tone soft but no less overjoyed. "Hello, fancy seeing you here."
Stepping back to allow him entrance, she continues. "I've just made some tea. Would you like some?"
[attr="class","gearcore"] The crafter wasn't really sure what hit him when that door opened. Holding Saoirse and keeping her close had suddenly jumped to the top of his priorities, which was odd, considering it hadn't even been that long since they'd last seen each other. (And also, considering he'd been trying to develop this relationship slowly. Just in case. But he had a bad habit of falling for people hard and fast, and he knew, even before this moment, that his heart had already made that leap.)
Thankfully, he stops his body before it leans forward more than a fraction of an inch, and remembers to speak after forgetting to do so for only a fraction of a second. "A lucky coincidence for sure," he jokes, because jokes were always a good fallback (and because she had a nice smile).
"I wouldn't be opposed," he agrees to the offer of tea as he steps through the threshold, "We can see if I don't botch guessin' the flavor right this time, yeh?" Zephyr hadn't been much of a tea drinker before meeting Sao, so, upon starting, it had become very quickly apparent that his preconceptions of what certain tea flavors were supposed to taste like wasn't based anywhere near reality. "Does it go with chocolate? I picked up some for ya near the Starshow. They're havin' some sorta festival out there t'day," he adds as he offers her the box, with the small bundle of flowers on top. If his hands were free, he could hold her better, right? Wait... brain, no...
