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 raven delacroix on Feb 11, 2019 10:21:00 GMT
Mimi takes the card, and Raven smiles sadly. The world around her seems to fade into black and white, though nothing has changed. People are still rowdy, alcohol is still passed around, the noise hasn't subsided in one bit, the afternoon continues to turn into dusk. Maybe it's the effect of the booze, but Raven's feeling pretty good, actually. So something else... something else Raven can't pinpoint.
"You know, I used to juggle several things at once. My family's expectations of me, my own personal wants, a good public image, which is my job by the way, and recently, a career within the Helios Knights. It's just... tiring, you know that feeling? And my head's all blurry and sometimes I'd neglect one for the other. In the end I can't focus... on anything."
Mimi means well, Raven could see that. Could feel that. And Raven believes her. There is a way to make things work out, to continue performing even as an ( relatively ) high-ranking Knight. All at once a flurry of contradictions fly into Raven's head. She refuses to let them in, and just shuts her eyes tight as if she's having a headache. It's easy for Raven to fake it--after all, it's her job.
Mimi couldn’t understand, try as she might. Her life has always been simple and plain. Her adventures and aspirations always revolved around the shop. To hear all that poor, little Raven had to deal with was impressive. The tailor couldn’t even fathom having to keep so many things up in the air…but maybe, right now, it wasn’t important to relate. No, it felt like it was far more important to just listen.
Tentatively, a hand reached out to place a hand upon the other’s knee. It was a small, weak gesture but it was all that the fledgling had to offer.
She opened her mouth to offer what (she hoped) were supporting words but froze when Raven seemed to be in pain. Was all this talk too much?
A panic rose within Mimi as her mind scattered to reach out for something -anything- to pull the conversation to kinder places.
“You know,” She started, pulling her touch away to let hands fold neatly in her lap. “even if you don’t perform anymore, I’d still love to make dresses for you. Perhaps not as lavish.” A soft, nervous laugh slipped past the Mimi's lips. In her mind’s eye the tailor could see how ridiculous performance dresses may look while walking down the street…but, slowly, an idea started to form.
“We can make new dresses. One that’ll fit whichever path you want to take. Ever heard of the saying clothes maketh the man? To the rest of the world, it’ll be a dress…but to you, we can make it your armour. Maybe that can help with making things seem less daunting?”
It was a foolish idea, she knew. A simple change of clothes couldn’t change the world. It wouldn't come as any surprise if Raven wrinkled her nose at it…and yet, a part of Mimi truly believed that this could be an answer. Maybe if she talked to the dresses enough, believed in the dresses enough it could help this woman start to believe in herself.
If only happiness was a thread. Mimi would weave it into the finest cloak and drape it upon Raven's shoulders without hesitation.
Post by raven delacroix on Feb 14, 2019 12:13:22 GMT
Crossroads aren't alien to one Raven Delacroix. Several times she found herself standing on one, and all she ever did was... close her eyes and walk both of the paths. Or so she thought. Raven didn't really chose both. She chose one and brought remnants of the other option with her. In a way it's an illusion, a scenario that would make the choice bearable enough for Raven to continue walking. Back then, she thought she's choosing both the path of a witch and an artist. And for a while, it worked wonderfully.
Until the stalkers came. Until the schedules piled over her head. Until her passion became nothing more than a chore.
She became a witch, and pursues it as a distraction. The influence of the Heirs made her juggle her pieces once more. Finally there is variety to her work. And she loved it. Her passion for the arts became fierce once more.
A comforting hand touches her bare knee, warm and soft. Raven hasn't realized she's keeping her head down, lost in deep thought. Raven raises her crimson-filled gaze and rests it upon Mimi's black irises.
Raven smiles.
"Honestly?" she starts. That's right. She doesn't have to choose today. Soon, but not today. It's reassuring to know that someone, this very person she just met, would not judge whatever path she takes. "I'd love to. I'll wear your creations with utmost pride and dignity, knowing it was made by you. Whether it be on battle or on the stage." Now, even if Raven likes the dress so much she won't frame it inside a glass--instead, she will give life to it.
"I wonder how the dress would turn out." Raven sighs a happy sigh. "Would you like me to help--or you just surprise me?"
For a mere moment, a look of surprise flashed across plain features. Was this…Was she…really helping? A feeling of warmth blossomed in inside Mimi’s chest before quickly spreading to the top of her head and the very tips of her fingers. If this is what it felt like to help others, the little tailor never wanted it to end. All her life she dealt with nothing more than the emotionless complications of fabrics. This? This sensation of connection and empowerment? Maybe there was something more than being meek and plain, after all.
“Well,” She started, gleeful gaze pulling away for a moment to linger in thought. “I think it’s best that both of us work on it. Together. I find that clothes wear best when they’re made with love and intention. I don’t think they would have it any other way.”
She lifted her eyes back to Raven, to the hope that radiated from ruby hues. A hand lifted to tap her pocket with a boring finger.
“I have your number. Shall I message to book an appointment? That’ll give you time to prepare some inspiration, I think?”
Post by raven delacroix on Mar 3, 2019 17:33:35 GMT
Her point still stands. A dress is just a piece of clothing. An armor is just protective garment. The same thing will happen regardless of what Raven is wearing. If she would despair, she would still despair despite wearing magical clothes. If she would triumph, she'd still triumph regardless of her make-up. An outfit would barely make a difference.
Barely, but enough, so it seems. If she would despair, then her armor will protect. If she would triumph, then her dress would make her shine.
That's a deal. This is the first time Raven would actually participate with the design of her royal armor. That's what she would like to call it anyway. It sparks a certain kind of buzz in Raven--and it's strangely alien yet familiar. Alien, because it has been so long since. Familiar, yet she's felt this multiple times before. Excitement.
"Yes, I'll be sure to prioritize you. After all, we would need it as soon as possible." Raven presses her cherry lips into a flat smile. "By then, hopefully, my schedules are all done and all that's left to do is to study--and of course, design the dress."
Just then, Raven remembers and all energy that left her a while ago suddenly comes back rushing. The Knight straightens her back and wildly looks around. Raven suddenly blinks hard, her eyes scrunching as she remembers. "Oh Merlin, of all times. I forgot Lux University is expecting me later this evening... Classes..."