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 kasimir burovski ✨ on Jan 17, 2020 6:40:07 GMT
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he breathes in the cool morning air, closing his eyes against the rising sun and simply luxuriating in the feeling of just— being. there: is the soft aftertaste of rain-washed wind; there: is the firefly glow of the few witches up and about. it is a moment away from the fire and heat and blood of his everyday life, and suddenly, he can understand why people love life so.[break][break]
the moment passes, and he breathes out; reaches with a spell so new to him— and the world comes alive with colour. he knows what the world feels like through the lense of a witch's intuition, but detection? it is something different, something infinitely more colourful that is less about sensing and more about seeing. is this what maddox sees all the time? he wonders what the purifier would look like, what he himself would look like. [break][break]
he lets the spell slip through his fingers and crouches down near the cobblestone, near the aftermath of some large area spell that had left the environment wobbly with mana. a moment: and he casts, aiming to smooth the environmental mana out with a full reset. ( a short distance away, several other purifiers look vaguely bemused as he — one who has ever been the cause of such destruction — now has switched paths to cleansing. ) [break][break]
and smiles, as he feels the air ease. is this what purifiers feel; what maddox feels? he feels like laughing, delighted.
[attr="class","junescroll"] now, this is a sight. unfamiliar and wholly unexpected, but not entirely unwelcome. the sensation washes over him smoothly, the mana of the environment settling deeper over the landscape of the city. magic translates differently across affinities, particularly so for purification, oft thought to be the antithesis to more traditional schools. alas, when one picks up such an affinity at such a time, with all the groundwork of past experience already done--[break][break]
"he's gonna run you out of business," moosely remarks, but even the typically barbed tone of the familiar is muted with affection, no matter how vehemently he denies it. the corners of the witch's lips curve upwards into a grin. if he's to be beaten by anyone at his own game, well; he thinks he won't mind as much if it's kasimir. [break][break]
it's difficult to sneak up on a purifier, and he knows this from experience --- it is far easier to get them to notice. and admittedly, shamelessly, he does not flinch away from showing off. [break][break]
it is not an active spell that he pulls around him, not really. there is no intent to harm, for one. his magic settles around him in its typical restless fashion, a mantle of wind and lightning that sparks down the lines of his body. look closer, and it is a sharp-edged thing, thirsting for more like a racehorse champing on the bit. now, though --- he keeps it in check with the ease of someone well-used to the mercurial nature of his magic.[break][break]
there are two coffees in his hands. "so i guess i should ask," he comes to a stop beside kasimir, a mild surprise colouring his voice; it's a low, curiously amused rumble from somewhere in his chest. "are my eyes playing tricks on me, or...?"
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Jan 17, 2020 13:13:37 GMT
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a witch approaches, their signature the blazing strength of a master of magic; and he thinks, could it be—? rather than looking up, kasimir reaches for the newest spell in his arsenal and lets the world burn alight with mana. [break][break]
it is lightning and thunder and rage-driven winds condensed down into a single humanoid figure; phantom ozone crackling on the tongue; a heart beating with the eye of a storm. it is the rumble of a battledrum not yet played, sparks traveling along white-gold veins, eyes alight with electricity. it is the edge of a blade thirsting for battle, the straining of mana so very close to bursting, the eddies and curls of a breeze like hair around his face. [break][break]
it is all so metaphorical, and so maddox— so very very maddox. [break][break]
"well," he says, looking up and smiling — and it is so very easy to smile with maddox, for maddox — "i am an illusionist." spreading his hands out, he lets the flicker of stars dance between his fingers. "i don't know, should you trust your eyes?"
[attr="class","junescroll"] the world is a flickering, amorphous thing through a purifier's eyes. what you need to understand is that magic wants to be seen, but few know the art of seeing; they will look, surely, because it does not take anyone special to see the way fire licks across a landscape. it does, however, take a lot more to know how it is made, or to understand the fine threads of control interwoven in the ether.[break][break]
once one understands the making of it all, then it can be unmade.[break][break]
he hums, appreciative, gaze wandering as he lifts his sunglasses, perching them atop his head. here, the world bleeds into greater colour, evidence of purification lingering light in the air. and there--- the evidence coalesces, flickering, around a familiar shape. he allows the smile to curve wider, teeth flashing.[break][break]
"well, i am a purifier," he returns, words curling in a low, smoky drawl. a hand reaches out with a coffee cup, offered with a careful tilt. "so i should, shouldn't i?"[break][break]
"really, is there-" a huff of a laugh as he coaxes his magic to calm, lightning settling smooth over his skin, "-anything you can't do?"
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Jan 18, 2020 0:51:18 GMT
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he stands, a soft contented sigh as the stars fade and the world settles back into concrete reality; takes the coffee with a wordless gesture of thanks and a bright smile that reaches the spring green of his eyes. a shrug, deliberately casual; "you would know better than i," he returns— oh but that is not quite as true now, is it.[break][break]
there really is no comparison to seeing mana through a purifier's eyes. [break][break]
kasimir laughs at maddox's words. "i cannot haggle, for one," he says, letting the pretence of great and intense thought settle on his brow. "nor can i sew more than basic mends. i've also been reliably told that i am a terrible poet. other than that-" and here, he can barely keep his composure, straight face wavering as his eyes dance with mirth.
