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 maddox rothscus ✨ on May 28, 2018 15:07:52 GMT
they walk, and they walk, and they walk. their trip into the forest has drawn them some ways away from the city outskirts, and their pace back is far more sedate than the breakneck speed of the initial chase. with panagos unconscious and slumped over the moose's back and the familiar trekking some ways ahead and slowly but steadily clearing a path through the forest's undergrowth for them to follow, silence reigns. or, well, it isn't silence per se, because it is a wordlessness that hangs between them, comprised of: tired boots scuffing against the forest floor, errant twigs snapping underfoot, the rustle of low-hanging boughs brushed aside.
he breaks it first, clearing his throat in a manner awkward and clumsy and somewhat hesitant, except that his curiosity gets the better of him and he's never really been one for long silences when such matters lie unaddressed. "so," he says carefully, tone light, stepping neatly over a broken branch, probably a victim of moosely's, "you wanted to talk about something?"
"i'm not mad or anything -- like, c'mon, why would i be -- i'm mostly just curious and- you know what, i should shut up." he chances a discreet glance in sirius', kasimir's, direction. "just, well, i'm listening, if you want to say anything. we have time."
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Jun 20, 2018 14:19:53 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
there is ash in his hair and weariness in his bones, blood staining his shirt and bruises blossoming beneath his skin, and the husk of what was once an ent army still smouldering around them. they trail dark footsteps in the remnants of fronds, a steady beat of feet outlined in soot; otherwise, there is only silence hung from the starkly bare branches, bought and paid for in fire.
silence, and unspoken words, syllables and phonemes and fragments of sentences that have yet to string themselves into damning coherence, accusations he can almost see quivering in the air just waiting to be spoken, questions that will lead to vulnerability that will lead to pain, disappointment and betrayal and hatred he can so vividly imagine darkening the storm brewing in maddox's eyes. kasimir barely dares to breathe as he keeps pace alongside moosely; waiting.
and waiting, and waiting. in the drawn out uncertainty as they walk and walk and walk, he wonders if it would be worse to not be asked. wonders if perhaps he could flee and pretend that none of this had happened. wonders if he could persuade maddox that it was nothing, was just an alias, was nothing of importance at all. and he wonders of the consequences, fears of the consequences, and wonders if he will have another master to please after this.
it is almost a relief when the older witch finally speaks - almost, but not quite. his intestines twist themselves into knots is so tightly corded down his spine that a single tap might snap it in two. the question is light, almost casual, almost gentle, but he flinches anyway, an instinctive, involuntary movement he rapidly stills back into neutrality. kasimir does not dare even look at maddox - if an attack be forthcoming, if anger or displeasure or betrayal were to be voiced, demonstrated, so be it. he would rather not see it until he must.
he wants to flinch again at the 'we have time', the words echoed by too many memories, too many ghosts, but he catches it this time, smoothes it away. for too long a moment, his tongue refuses to cooperate, his throat refuses to work, and silence stretches like something damning. "...if i asked you to pretend nothing happened, would you?" he manages finally, but he knows the answer even before it might be given. his voice is quiet and hoarse and small, resigned, and still he refuses to look at maddox.
even should the other answer in affirmative, kasimir would not leave him with questions that might be looked into, a past that curiosity might tempt him into searching for. to satisfy his curiosity now and pray it is enough - it is the only acceptable option he can see.
Post by maddox rothscus ✨ on Jun 22, 2018 1:32:19 GMT
smoke still hangs heavy in the air like the silence between them, but maddox does little more than to draw the collar of his jacket up over his nose and wait patiently. he breathes carefully, treads the conversation with equal caution; waits, still. he keeps his gaze steadily fixed on the scarlet-haired assassin, more out of curiosity and concern than anything else. decidedly, his feelings lean more so towards the latter as the seconds tick by.
he realises he knows precious little of sirius, of kasimir, of this individual who has swept into his life not long ago and accompanied him on a wild sequence of missions and assignments. if he had been the more wary sort, perhaps he may have reacted differently. but he's always been the reckless sort, always been the trusting sort, always taken the plunge without testing the waters -- so when kasimir asks, there is only a short pause as he lifts his eyes, gaze studious, expression unreadable. then he says, acquiescent, "i would."
perhaps he has been trained to be desperate for insight, to pry apart others in the name of business and war, but such matters fall short of his attention right now; that is treatment befitting only of his enemies, and he would be loathe to consider kasimir anything less than a friend.
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Jun 22, 2018 2:18:35 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
somehow, despite everything he ever knew of maddox, and everything he has since learnt, kasimir still manages to be surprised by the response. and it, it sounds genuine, like it is the truth, like it is sincere, like if he asked for it life could continue as if nothing had ever happened. and for a moment, he is abruptly, fiercely reminded of the teen he had once so loved, of all the emotions he had once so felt for this man. that he still feels, to some extent, both old and new built on top of each other to create something more.
with vague, dawning horror, kasimir realises that he wants to trust maddox, that he has let down his guard so much that he wants to let the man into his life like he had, once upon a time.
"my name, my real name, is kasimir." the words slip out before he has a chance to censure them, hoarse and soft and low. he snaps his mouth shut a moment later, tension all but radiating from his posture as his fingers twitch as if itching to clench into fists, his gaze firmly situated ahead. then he shudders, sighs, and looks down. "kirjava has always been kirjava." except then it had not, except when kasimir had been krishna and kirjava had been ra, when kasimir had been dark-skinned and dark-haired and gold-eyed like the sun, and kirjava had been glamoured into sable and ink. but that is a confession he is even less prepared to make, even now, and it sits behind the cage of his teeth tasting of ashes and dust.
fighting the urge to curl in on himself and never surface, kasimir finds he does not know what to say, where to go from here. does he name himself fully, allow a connection to saskia to possibly made? but that is already possible, given his first name and kirjava's name and their affiliation to the silvertongue coven. does he admit to his past, their past, and let that revelation sweep everything else away? or should he stop here, stop now and beg for that respite maddox had so offered.
kasimir does not know, and it is terrifying and miserable and bleak.
Post by maddox rothscus ✨ on Jun 22, 2018 3:21:47 GMT
he watches and he waits, studying his profile with idle interest. wondering what secrets might spill forth. wondering if it will change his opinion of kasimir. convinced already that it will not. he knows what he knows: that kasimir is too kind for someone in his profession, that such somehow does not detract from the sharpness of the blade, that kasimir lets apologies spill far too often and is too quick to shoulder blame; that he trusts kasimir, somehow, inexplicably, through whatever may come his way.
maddox rothscus has never claimed to be the reasonable sort.
kasimir speaks again, and maddox is afraid that even drawing breath may scare him away. the assassin, he has come to realise, has always been the skittish sort. so instead he says, slowly, sincerely, unsure of how quite to react, "thank you for letting me know."
he hesitates, then offers once more, "you don't have to tell me everything right now, you know. take your time. i understand it's difficult." he cannot speak from personal experience, but imagination will have to suffice for now. he thinks of the coven, he thinks of the remnants of his family, he thinks of whichever foolish soul in leviathan that may have a shred of trust in him. he thinks he might understand, but he does not care to presume.
"if it's any consolation," he says, smiling tentatively in a way he hopes is reassuring, "your secret is safe with me."
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Jun 22, 2018 4:01:39 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
he shudders, again, at the the slow, sincere response that had evidently words chosen with care, at the tentative hesitancy as if kasimir might shatter upon touch if handled indelicately. and he does feel too close to breaking, feels a webwork of faults and flaws fissuring beneath his skin. too small, too cold, too transparent and fragile like glass; he needs to be stronger, he needs to be.
"i-" he says, finally looks to maddox with eyes tangled in emotion, then away again because the reassuring smile is too much. "i-" he says again, and wants to vomit, wants to expel all the contents of his stomach to rid it of the knots it has twisted into. "i-" he says for a third time, and finally manages to form words out of the turmoil of his mind; "i have a sister," he says
and goes ghost-white, because that was not what he meant to reveal.
kirjava roars in the back of his mind and a terrified "please!" bursts from his lips; kasimir stumbles to a halt and turns desperate eyes onto maddox searching for any trace of greed, of triumph, of any sign, anything that might indicate this might be used against them, against her, desperate and despairing and just a hint of fire that threats to flare into life should the worst come to be. a stream of words spill from his tongue in a rush too fast to be cut off, too hurried to be checked; he barely hears what his own mouth says, only knows that this is a disaster, he is a disaster and needs to be fixed.
"please don't use her against me, please don't- you- you love zephyr right? i- she is like that to me, please-" and a part of him realises what he is half-implying half-accusing maddox of, realises that the person he ( thinks ) he knows would not do that, wants to believe so badly, but the bigger, louder part of him is too scarred by cold experience, by more than a decade of this being his reality, saskia being his vulnerability and weakness and chain.
he is half a second away from dropping to his knees to beg and if he thought the nausea was bad before it is exponentially worse now, and his frantic heartbeat is drowning out everything else and kirjava is radiating fury and terror in his mind and-
Post by maddox rothscus ✨ on Jun 22, 2018 4:37:20 GMT
the words spill forth, torrential and panicked. maddox tries his best to smooth his features into a mask of polite interest, but try as he might, he cannot help the slight crease between his brows, the ever so slight widening of eyes in confusion and worry. kasimir's eyes are searching and maddox doesn't know what he is looking for -- there is little to find beyond surprise and, perhaps, sympathy.
ahead, moosely stops dead in his tracks, ears flattened against his skull. maddox, too, freezes. raises his hands in a placating manner, leans back, stunned at his intensity. starts, in a manner as unwavering as he can muster, "kasimir-"
takes a split-second to search his soul and find it absent of any malice; he thinks of zephyr, and what he would do if anyone harmed his brother. and he knows, with absolute surety, that he would never willingly do anything to harm kasimir, least of all in the way he insinuates.
"it's okay, hey- i'd never do anything like that," he says, steel-steady conviction threading his voice, hands moving preemptively to catch kasimir if he falls. "take it easy, okay? just breathe, alright? i won't do anything, i swear."
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Jun 22, 2018 5:01:00 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
his maddened, frantic torrent of words threaten to tip over into hyperventilation, but he cannot afford to do that, cannot afford to break or crumble or shatter because he needs to know saskia is safe, needs to know his mistakes have not cost him further, needs to know. but even with green eyes panicked, searching, scouring every inch of maddox's face, he finds nothing but surprise and confusion and benign worry.
kasimir shuts up at the sound of his name, goes instantly silent as if freezing and withdrawing in would offer some form of meagre protection. waits in terror for the split-second gathering of thoughts to pass. flinches at the movement of hands, takes a rapid involuntary step back; then stops, because there is steel-strong conviction in maddox's voice and there is a promise there that he wants to believe, and he wants to trust it.
( belatedly, a small part of his brain wonders what would happen if panagos chose this moment to awaken, and kasimir has to wonder if this is what hysteria feels like )
his breathing is harsh in his ears, his skin pale and clammy. "you swear?" he rasps, forcing himself to hold maddox's gaze, forcing himself to stay stock still and standing. kirjava falls silent too, and he can feel her borrowing his eyes, observing.
Post by maddox rothscus ✨ on Jun 22, 2018 5:25:51 GMT
he is afraid to move, afraid to breathe, as though a single movement would shatter the tenuous spell of not-quite-peace and send kasimir spiraling. so he doesn't, and instead he forces patience into his veins and lets his mind fade into blankness. he lets the world boil down to the space they occupy and the silence of the forest around them, as though the world itself was holding its breath.
"i swear," he echoes, faintly at first, frowning ever so slightly. then with more conviction, he reiterates, "you have my word." he holds the gaze, wondering if kasimir reads it as earnest and sincere; hoping, that he trusts him enough to take it as it is. he leave this truth there before him, frank and simple, a flimsy olive branch offered in good faith.
"i would never intentionally bring harm to you or your sister. this," he says, and without skipping a beat, "i swear on my life."
there is silence in the back of his mind, the familiar silent and unresponsive as he processes the words. then, to his relief, calm and quiet acceptance, and a fierce surge of protectiveness and an echoing sentiment.
he lifts a shoulder in a half-shrug, tilts his head to gesture towards the familiar ahead. tries again for the reassuring smile, wondering if it will diffuse the tension. "moosely concurs."
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Jun 22, 2018 5:57:53 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
he sees nothing but sincerity, nothing but an earnest conviction of his words in maddox's face, in his eyes, and kasimir wonders if he is an idiot for believing it. wonders if this will come back to haunt him later, if this is but an act, a ploy, wonders if maybe something will change in the future any maddox will change with it like xuan jin did. wonders if he is such a fool so as to reach out twice, to try again a second time and hope it does not mirror the first.
but he was already halfway to believing even before this, and he- he cannot help but nod. jerky, small, a fine tremor running through his frame, but it is a nod nonetheless.
"okay," he breathes, risking a step forwards. back within reach, back near moosely, and he is relieved to fine the same steel-strong glint in the familiar's eyes too. "okay." i believe you.
kirjava is still silent in his mind, no longer snarling or raging or bristling with fury-fear; she had liked the other witch-familiar pair too, in the privacy of their minds. still likes, kasimir hopes, and tentatively reaches out for her along their bond. for a terrifying moment, there is no response- and then she slides into materiality at his side with a sense of forgiveness and exasperation enveloping him. "don't make us regret it," she orders maddox with eyes flashing gold and a flick of her tail, but she proceeds to stalk to moosely's side and brush against him in her own gruff form of approval.
Post by maddox rothscus ✨ on Jun 22, 2018 6:17:03 GMT
he lets out the breathe he was holding, his lungs burning, frame relaxing with relief. he is glad, put in simplest of terms, that kasimir trusts him, at least for the moment. kasimir steps back, and maddox finally lets his arms fall to his side once more. he gives a nod too, in vague acknowledgement that the moment has come to pass.
up ahead, moosely snorts unceremoniously, lowering his head to brush briefly against kirjava's before he continues moving, picking his way through the undergrowth once more. their captive lies unmoving still, even as moosely ventures a little off the path to snag some leaves off a low-hanging branch as a snack.
( throughout it all, maddox is also glad that panagos has not awakened. )
"i wouldn't dream of it, really," he calls out towards kirjava, traces of that typical breezy tone finding its way back. he brushes some stray strands of hair out of the way, shoves his hands back into his pockets, and resumes the journey back to the city.
"and i suppose i should do this over," he says, chancing another glance at kasimir as they walk. he inclines his head in a small bow; grins now, slight and earnest. "a pleasure to meet you, kasimir."
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Jun 22, 2018 6:42:13 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
the tension in the air seems to ease, and kasimir cautiously relaxes with it. he is... still uncertain, still hesitant, but none of the disaster scenarios he feared even came close to happening, and for all it is worth, he does like maddox, truly. likes, and apparently trusts. hope is something beautiful and terrible and poignant after so long without it.
he catches the familiar grin and the knotted mess in his chest eases some more. kasimir tentatively returns it with one of his own, a small quirk of lips that hopefully expresses everything of what he wants to say but has no words for. "a pleasure to meet you, too," he says softly, sketching a dip of head. kirjava prowls on ahead, keeping pace with moosely, and does not bother with any fancy words of her own ( but that is okay, because she has never been one for them anyway ), and before them, the green of leaves and trees begin to reemerge.
for the first time in a long while, it feels like everything might be okay.
