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"] The last few weeks have been absolute shit.
Fane had been arrested, Maddox lost an arm, petty gangs were using Leviathan's name for their own reputation, a mission gone wrong wrecked his apartment enough for his landlord to kick him out, he'd lost his best prosthetic legs in a swamp filled with human-sacrificing villagers, and he hadn't been able to get in contact with Saoirse.
The crafter had more than enough to keep him stressed and worried, to say the least. He wasn't sure which direction to go or what he should try to fix first, so he stuck with what he knew. He'd brought his basic tools back to Aeris' blacksmith shop and got to work on a set of new legs. Miscellaneous parts were scattered across the living room floor, as Zephyr, sitting vaguely in the middle of the storm of organized chaos, works on their assembly. He wasn't wearing any of his older prosthetics at the moment, since they'd just get in the way of his current task.
The front door opens, and, admittedly, he isn't in a position where he can properly see who it is. He isn't sure who he wants it to be, but chances are it's a customer who he doesn't know personally, or someone he doesn't really want to talk to at the moment. That said, he also didn't want to drive people away from his adoptive dad's current livelihood. "Hello?" he calls over, leaning over to peek around the side of the couch to catch a glimpse of who it is.
Post by saoirse ó floinn on Nov 26, 2018 1:43:28 GMT
[attr="class","beanbody"]
[attr="class","beanribbon"]the world...
[attr="class","beanbox"]
[attr="class","beantext"]'Blasted mimic.' Saoirse's brows are furrowed as she feels yet another twinge of pain trickle down her leg; an uncomfortable reminder of what had happened in Eclipse Town. While the wound had closed over, it seemed like her nerves still had a little while to go before they healed completely. The choppy texture of the cobblestone path did not help in keeping her pace smooth and with each irregular dip, she winces as her injured muscle is pulled taut. She wouldn't have left home so readily knowing her current predicament, but she couldn't wait any longer to see him.
A month or so with no contact, she owes Zephyr, at least, a personal visit to let him know that she had come back safe. 'More or less.' She thinks as she rubs her thigh gently. She hopes that she hadn't worried him too much when they stopped communication; she would have to make it up to him if she did.
Seeing the police tape around his apartment door is a shock and her heart rate spikes for a second out of concern. Is he okay? What had happened? Asking a disgruntled landlord provided some answers and when asked of her relationship with him, her response earns her a highly disapproving look. ( She raises an eyebrow in return, daring them to say anything more. ) Thanking them stiffly, she leaves as swiftly as she can, thinking of the next place he would go.
Technically he could be anywhere, but she had a pretty good idea where he would be.
Pushing open the door to the blacksmith, her heart warms immediately ( as do her cheeks ) when she sees the familiar mop of blonde sitting on the living room floor. Suddenly, she feels her eagerness slip away, replaced by an almost uncharacteristic shyness. One moment, she is anxious to see him and now she is anxious to see him. What if he is angry at her for not keeping in touch in the past month? What if he needed her and she wasn't there?
She pauses when she hears him say hello and he moves to look over towards her. Frozen like a deer in headlights, she finds herself tongue-tied as her heart swells into her throat from how pleased she is to see him and how nervous she is.
Fiddling with the hem of her shirt, she wets her lips and smiles softly. "Hi."
[attr="class","gearcore"] His eyes widen in surprise and excitement when he sees who it is. "C --" the nickname slips through his lips unbidden before the wave of unasked questions struggling in his throat blocks any further speech. This flicker of a hopeful expression, however, is just as quickly dampened by confusion, followed by a rare uncertainty passing across his features.
He didn't know what it meant that they'd gone without contact for nearly a month, or that she was showing up now out of the blue, or that she was greeting him with what seemed like hesitancy. He probably would have been upset under normal circumstances, but right now he was desperate for something -- anything -- to go right in his life, even if it was only on the surface.
His fingers flick in a quick, practiced pattern, and in the blink of an eye there was no more than a puff of rust-colored smoke where he'd been sitting. At the same time, the side table by the door creaks as it's suddenly supporting his weight -- a curse is muttered under his breath as he nearly loses his balance due to the table being a few inches away from its position that he'd grown accustomed to. But he rights himself, and looks at Saorise, much closer now. "You've got a limp there... you alright?" he finally comments, trying to pull words from the flood of things he wanted to ask or say. "Are we alright?" Wait. Shit. He wasn't supposed to ask that first. For a moment it looks like he might say something else to back out of the question or correct himself, but decides against it and merely searches for an answer with his gaze.
Though not executed as tactfully as he would have liked, those were still the most two important questions he wanted to ask, and in priority order.
