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 lynnelia arnett on Apr 15, 2018 16:12:57 GMT
i know you're unrehearsed, but i see the light in your hands.
Lynnelia could hear the water whispering, ebbing into a tide shifting sand over itself and pulling back the stragglers. Enjoying the docks was likely the only pattern she had allowed herself to have; here, she could retrace memories only the ocean could know— something that knows everything, goes everywhere, with life and death all throughout. [break][break] Lynnelia could not help but wonder why she, with all her love for the sea, could only kill it. [break][break] She shook her head, sight darkening for a moment as the thoughts faded and she put into them instead a blank canvas— ready for whatever part she had to play for the sake of her new “home.” [break][break] In ways, her hands itched burn mana like oil, longing for once to hurt than be hurt; in other ways, other lifetimes, other Lynnelias, they wanted only the silence, or perhaps the piano keys, or even — in its own strange way — the marriage of both, despite the contradictions in their existences, each one a foil to the other. [break][break] A figure came to view then, bringing Lynnelia away from herself, and she almost felt thankful if the thoughts weren’t so peaceful (this time). [break][break] Recognition flashed across the witch’s face as she took in her partner, and her shoulders seemed to relax, and her chest decompress. I know her. This will be fine. [break][break] “Hi again,” she murmured, a look of welcome playing her features. “Now we’re even on guard duty together.” Her tone was almost dry, but her eyes amused, and it was evident that Lynnelia was, at minimum, content with her company— even pleased.
She understood the troubling light her coven had been thrusted in, how the members rushed to reverse the damage made from an organization that only wanted to provoke fear, and she understood their need for her own coven to take precautions with their own actions. Yet, she couldn’t deny how counterproductive the request was; to stand guard for a coven that simply wanted to hide away from the attention.
Eira was not one to stand against her superiors though nor the one to claim their precautions as feeble– as pathetic. Leviathan was a coven that was often diligent in their work, quick to dispose of threats after all.
Her head soon lifts when the aroma of salt lingers firmly within the air, when the sea becomes far more prominent as she approaches; pale colored eyes widening slightly beneath the veil adorned over her eyes, “Hello.” She greets, her words hushed though neutral in tone as she steps parallel to her mission partner– parallel to Lynnelia.
“I’m sure this one will be far more relaxed than a door threatening to shut us in.” Eira turned her head in the slightest as she spoke, the corner of her lips threatening to curl into the smile to indicate her own amusement.
Post by lynnelia arnett on Apr 15, 2018 16:50:05 GMT
i know you're unrehearsed, but i see the light in your hands.
She couldn't help the trailing of her eyes to ships riding the horizon; she let out a breath of air, a ghost of a laugh, glancing briefly at the ship she had begun to know. She always enjoyed riding the waves, and she thought it fitting that even so far from home she had found yet another anchor in a drowning city. [break][break] At least you're stationed somewhere with a decent view, Medea filtered in, smooth and cold in voice, though remained out of sight, none of her form to be found beside her witch. [break][break] Lynnelia did chuckle a bit then, so quiet and so hidden it could hardly be heard, but the pair knew it was there, and for the moment that was all the difference. [break][break] "I'd put money on it, but in this town I wouldn't be surprised if it happened again— even by the sea," Lynnelia returned, eyeing their surroundings, before coaxing her gaze back to her covenmate. She was more at ease beside Eira, perhaps because the witch had grown familiar to her, but Lynnelia — now, especially now — did not want to see a sapling rot yet again from her hesitant touch. [break][break] "It's been rather quiet so far, I hope it stays that way," she continued, allowing Eira the choice of silence or conversation, while she tucked her wind-stricken hands under the soft cloth of the cloak fluttering against her figure.
She hummed under her breath when Lynnelia pointed out the possibility of something more and she shook her head slowly in response though not to deny her speculation, “We know that things are happening, tearing behind the seams in this town.” Eira replies, almost forcing the words to fall from her mouth; the memory of smoke and flame flicking through her mind– the hysteric laughter and cries.
“I would have seen it all then if a monster were to rise and make its presence known this call to the docks, this close to the ports.” She motions her hand towards the ebbing water, noting the curl of murky waves; perhaps she was destined to witness Sundial to get swallowed up or perhaps it was Lynnelia and she was pulled into the downfall of an already crumbling town.
“It has been though, quiet I mean. It would be great if we could experience the silence together for once rather than all that noise. All the trouble we manage to get ourselves into.” That, she thought, would be fantastic.
Post by lynnelia arnett on Apr 15, 2018 17:07:56 GMT
i know you're unrehearsed, but i see the light in your hands.
"Yes," she sighed, feeling, for once, how exhausted she was from strife. "It seems so; inescapable." [break][break] In all truth, Lynnelia had already blanketed herself, coated disease with bandages hardly held together under the looming of crows; at times she merely banished the pondering, though at others, she embraced them — some part hopeful and some part defeated. [break][break] "I think I'd still be expecting more from a place like this," she returned, though in good spirit. "It feels as though anything can happen here; good or bad, depending." Lynnelia couldn't help where her mind strayed, how suddenly there swayed fire within the water, how her limbs began to burn with phantoms she had yet to conquer; she repressed a shudder. There was no time for pity or lingering — she survived. She will survive, by sheer force of will if anything. [break][break] Until I find my answers. [break][break] Lynnelia let out an almost relieved breath at Eira's next words, as though she had longed for the air to hear the sentiment from someone beside herself. "I couldn't agree more. It's too loud sometimes... even when it seems like nothing is sounding off, there's always noise, one way or the other."
Her covenmate was an interesting one with mysteries that seemed to haunt her and Eira could almost resonate, having mysteries she aimed to unfold and having her own secrets to guard– to keep. It was no surprise that she could find some solace with Lynnelia especially with both of their desires to uncover more.
“I still wonder though, who was behind the death. Behind the dreams.” Eira was hesitant as she spoke, not wanting to disturb the peace that Lynnelia may have had; she knew both of them were still hunting, wanting to discover the mess that seemed to continuously unfurl before them.
Yet, as much as she was dedicated to uncovering the truth she was also dedicated to keep her covenmate’s peace of mind because while she didn’t have to feel the fire licking at her skin; she knew that Lynnelia did and she was certain that was a far more frightening image than the screams she heard.
“Maybe we should be careful, if we talk about it a lot then a monster might show up.” She attempts to tease, unsure whether her joke would land or simply fall short; they were never truly her forte.
Post by lynnelia arnett on Apr 15, 2018 17:31:00 GMT
i know you're unrehearsed, but i see the light in your hands.
Lynnelia inhaled sharply; it was a question (no, a statement) that had plagued the witch beyond a time she could remember, now, after her burning. Her judgment. She took a pause, mulling over what to say, though did not shy away from the conversation — she had learned, by now, that some words were created to be shared, and others only to hear. [break][break] "I'm not even sure it was one person— or maybe a person at all. Things seem to have been growing more unnatural by the minute here... it's unsettling. I can't say I don't think about it; maybe I think about it too much. And I can't help but wonder what else we'll endure here," she admitted, quietly, almost in a whisper, as though she was clouding their conversation in mist, to remain unheard and unrecognized beside the two of them. "Do you even think we're the only place this is happening to?" [break][break] She could hardly imagine such terrors— for that's what it was, terrible and horrible— were to be so isolated, but vendettas were no stranger to Lynnelia's tongue, and curses had a temper of their own. [break][break] "Ah, maybe you're right," she chuckled, her volume returning, welcoming levity. "Speak only into the universe what you want to happen, I guess."
It was never determined to be an act committed by one person and Lynnelia was right to acknowledge the potential of these crimes being committed as a group rather than pure solidarity, but when she began to challenge the plausibility of the supernatural being involved she almost stopped following her words, “I wouldn’t quite go on the limb to blame other forces, not yet at least…” Her words trail and her gaze soon shifts to watch the crowds that walked past the docks, how workers unloaded shipments from towns across the salem sea.
“It’s almost funny yet sad how quickly this town turns to blame Silvertongue, do you think they’re behind it?” She questioned after a moment, her stance shifting for a moment as she moves to lean against a large shipment crate; arms folding over her chest as she simply scanned the area.
It was easy to blame someone else and it was just as easy for others to follow after without second thought, without acknowledging the damage waiting to eat something up without a moment's hesitation. Perhaps it was a group behind the deaths, behind the dreams, or perhaps even a new breed of monster.
Post by lynnelia arnett on Apr 15, 2018 17:53:43 GMT
i know you're unrehearsed, but i see the light in your hands.
"It probably isn't anyway," Lynnelia agreed; her mind was prone to wander, even to possibilities outside their own realms. "I'm not entirely sure I want to know— I mean, I have to know, but I wonder if knowing will do anymore good than all of this has done bad." She was speaking quietly once more, as though to herself, and her gaze followed the sea foam again. She longed to feel the water, submerge herself and wade in with the fish; she would remain until her skin grew taut and her hair forever tasted of salt and her eyes burned from the irritation... she would likely stay until even her limbs could no longer keep her there. [break][break] "I think people are just looking for reasons to go after them," Lynnelia began carefully; she herself (her family. her mother. her dead father. her sister.) had ties with the coven, enough to know they weren't in anyone's favor, not particularly. [break][break] "I'm not sure if I would exactly put it on their shoulders though... they're an interesting type, but this sort of unrest, well. I don't think Dmitri Wisbane would have relied on his coven's reputation to keep them far from suspicion." She laughed then, fleeting, though with no humor. "What do you think? I feel as though I've talked too much." [break][break] Lynnelia looked to Eira again, an apologetic glint in her pale eyes; she so hated being rude, or perhaps it was simply that she hated her own voice. She supposed it wouldn't matter which it was; perhaps it was both.
That much was true when the unknown and fear dance in the air, make their presence known, that people often seek release and comfort from harrowing thoughts by tossing accusations– to have the comfort knowing there was someone to blame from the misfortune that plagued them. She understood that much and while her covenmate was careful with her response, Eira still sensed a semblance of blame in her words.
“I have heard someone talk far more than what you have said these past few minutes, you’re fine.” Eira assured, her head never turning to acknowledge the other woman personally. Instead, she allowed the silence to settle between them when the question was posed to her and the corner of her mouth seemed to quiver for just a moment before she voices her own opinion towards the mess.
“While Silvertongue is known to be mercenaries willing to do the dirtiest of work for the right price, I think Dimitri Wisbane has enough control over them to maintain public appearance. It would be too obvious to commit something as grand scale, to ruin a security net.” Eira explained, careful with her own words as she attempted to articulate her thoughts.
“I suppose you could say I don’t blame them, not for this.”
Post by lynnelia arnett on Apr 15, 2018 18:37:02 GMT
i know you're unrehearsed, but i see the light in your hands.
Lynnelia smiled, a hint grateful, at the witch's reassurance, even if for propriety's sake; it was pleasant to be told, for all she had known for so long was that what she had to say was below worthy attention. I'm reading too into this. I'm getting down. [break][break] "Yes, very true. He has a tight hold, I'm sure of that; besides, I have a feeling this is beyond something they'd do, it feels... different to me." Lynnelia looked out over the docks then, beyond the sea and toward the waning horizon, to the bruised sky and the battered wind. She wondered if she was still making excuses for a coven she used to feel something toward, but part of her believed it was indeed beyond the scope of Silvertongue. It seemed too risky, too unwise, yet too viscerally powerful all at once. [break][break] No, this is much different. And stronger. And everyone is going to have to fight eventually... aren't they. [break][break] She didn't end her thought with a question; she didn't have to. [break][break] "I think things are beginning to unravel— slowly, maybe, but I've heard... whispers. About that recent excursion... the barriers... the seer. So many things seem to be collapsing, something just might reveal itself soon." [break][break] Or make a mistake. [break][break] She could hear the creak of a door in the distance, and rumbling from within the room they were guarding; her eyes shifted quickly, staring off into the noise though wholly unconcerned of the goingson of the meeting; she would hear what was necessary, and pretend otherwise when not. [break][break] "Suppose this meeting might be over soon; it's been a while," she thought aloud, casting another glance to Eira. "At least no doors attacked us."
She could recall the red streak that flared in the sky and how its crimson hues spread across the blue, staining and corrupting the natural colors with something for more ethereal. She could recall how there was a quiet request for witches to embark out towards the wilderness to explore the phenomenon and how she turned her head away in favor to keep her own sanity– maintain her wit and gather the strength she lost in that dream.
It was true, the seams that once held Salem– Sundial– was weakening and threaten to unravel and she was almost certain that all it would take was a gentle push to cause the pieces to fall apart; to create a rupture that force the people to turn against one another. To push blame, to seek the person with blood on their hands or at least impose the idea that there was blood needed to be found.
Eira wasn’t quite sure whether the events were even connected or not, from the death of Mallori to the strange beacon that hung heavy in the skies. She breathed out a sigh at her own thoughts, her face falling briefly and she almost wonders that maybe she was to blame for his death– she was the last to dance with him.
Her head would soon turn when the door begins to creak and the room inside begins to move, her gaze soon shifting over to Lynnelia when she’s first to make a relaxed joke, “Seems so, and looks like the sea monster decided to leave us be.” She returns the words, pale lips curling to over a brief and gentle smile.
Post by lynnelia arnett on Apr 15, 2018 19:07:33 GMT
i know you're unrehearsed, but i see the light in your hands.
Lynnelia couldn't help the thought that the seams of their world could simply be stretching thin; she could only do so much to save herself for when it all spilled over. She wondered when it would come to head— Salem, Sundial, seemed to be speeding toward a cliff that everyone knows of but the conductor refuses to acknowledge. How much of a role did every witch play in this? Was every one of them a ripple in the ocean, a droplet in a puddle? When would it all tumble? When would it drown out everything else? [break][break] You're monologuing. It's giving me a headache, dear. Medea was teasing her, distracting her, trying to pull her out of the web she had begun to spin for herself so carefully and so delicately it could split open any moment. [break][break] No, I'm thinking. [break][break] Overthinking, then. [break][break] Lynnelia refused to deign Medea with an answer, and instead opted to speak. "It appears that way; maybe I should send it a gift basket. 'Thank you for not ripping our heads off' sound nice?" She allowed a smile as well, gentle and faint, though very evident. [break][break] Before she could speak again, there came a commotion from inside the meeting room, and she eyed the figures as they parted ways in a fashion untraceable to those who did not know they were there — or why they were there. [break][break] "It looks like the party is over."
The room seems to shift once more before the metal of the door soon hinges open, heading turning to acknowledge the few well known witches slipping past to either return to their rooms on the ship or to head elsewhere in Sundial. She hummed under her breath, moving from her post to allow for more room as some of the members walked past the two.
It was when the noise slowed and the silence could settle again when she opted to speak once more to Lynnelia, head turning to acknowledge the presence of her mission partner; a person she learned to value, “It was a pleasure working with you, I’m a bit disappointed that it was so easy though.” She admits, she did find some enjoyment in a challenge; some noise to cause her blood to boil.
“I think a gift basket would be nice, were you thinking fruit?” She replies after a moment, a chuckle slipping past her lips at their small games, “Don’t be a stranger though. I’ll see you around for hopefully another mission.”
