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.
it is a beautiful day, the type of picturesque you imagine can only be found in storybooks and fairytales. soft, high skies in dreamy azure, clouds painted in streaks of pink and gold and cotton-white, lakes as clear and still as the surface of a mirror. and of course, the main attraction: vast stretches flower fields in every shade of the rainbow, jewel-coloured and bright with their faces to sun. [break][break]
it is a small event all things considered, especially when compared to the behemoth that is saturnalia, but it is a much beloved event among those with an appreciation for flowers. this is the time when the meadows of idunn bloom the brightest, and many travel across salem just to spend a day in its serene beauty. there are small popup stalls here and there selling sweet treats, snacks, seeds and flowers, plantshapers wandering around tending to the plants, even a few demonstrating their techniques both magical and otherwise. but for the most part, it is just you and the sky and the earth, wind in your hair and dirt beneath your feet.[break][break]
[attr="class","stafftemptitle"] how to participate
welcome to the 2020 valentines day event! this thread will run from the 17th of feb aest - 23rd feb aest, please post at least 2 times by the deadline to quality for event rewards.
"the vodka came diluted one more line I’m superhuman"
The grass was mildly dewy from the plantshapers working their magic through the field. Water magic, light magic, earth magic all complimented to the weaving of plant magic on this day. He saw some faces he somewhat recognized from the coven. He was not with them though. He was currently with his sister... well one of them. She was the youngest in age with a decade gap between them.
As the person who was neither married nor busy on this day, despite protests, he was the one who got to spend the day with the ten year old. The day was warm and sun lit beautiful beams of colorful light between the flowers and trees. Probably due to someone’s magic as he was certain this wasn’t normally what it should look like.
The two Petrov witches of course wore matching outfits designed by their older siblings. It was just a matter of fact that plagued his daily life. Light white cloth with a whispy, almost sheer design. They looked like their parents back in the day with that kind of nature witch flower child vibe. Of course flower crowns were a must... at least according to the youngest Petrov. They were obviously not fancy or designer as that had that childish whimsy to them and lacked the grace of trained hands.
The youngest child had made them herself. She had spent much of the day running around barefoot; dancing in her shite dress as her brother followed along. She was currently dragging another girl her age around that she had deemed her ‘new friend’. A social child.
He wondered what aiden emerson was doing at the moment. Probably working himself up over something... or worse working himself to hard. He sighed at the thought. Maybe he should have asked the boy to come to force a break on the boy. No. He couldn’t do that. Not with the implications of this day. Romance and all... can’t make that mistake again.
[attr="class","s1lyrics1"]constellation of tears on your lashes
[attr="class","s1lyrics2"]burn everything you love then burn the ashes
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Corvus fidgeted with the hem of his shirt having debated for at least 15 minute if he should have it tucked in or out. He didn’t want to seem too formal, after all they were just…friends. The implications of this forcing a crack into his already tired, cheery façade. Just friend. Just friends. And as such would it not be, you know, ok, if he got to hang out with a friend today. That’s what you did when u didn’t have a love interest, or well, as Lady Ezra had specified to him earlier, a love not interested in you. That was the vibe he got anyway. While he still had a hard time wrapping his head around his words, even so much as to go back to try to rationalize it wasn’t that bad, the sentiment in her eyes had been clear as days. [break][break]
It’s not going to work. [break][break]
Even so he found himself still wanting to just be around her. After all, saskia burovski was an incredibly admirable and capable witch in their coven. She was not only strong, but she was nice. Nice in the way more people didn’t have to or want to be in Silvertongue. Nice in a way that Corvus hoped he was like. A genuine kind of nice, you know? And while he hadn’t seen her in person in a hot minute, he’d sent her a letter. A Friendly Letter. You know, maybe he shouldn’t sent a bird but he figured that a bird would seem too urgent. Anyway the letter, it wasn’t a confession of love or anything. No, he wasn’t stupid. It had just been an invitation, and, you know hopefully, she accepted and wasn’t busy. He didn’t doubt he could be the only one pursuing her, or well- pursued? It wasn’t a thing anymore. It couldn’t be- right? [break][break]
Regardless, he hoped he could at least hang out for a minute or two. She was one of the few friends, if he was allowed to call her that, that he still had. Ok, one of the only friends he had in the coven so far. Even with Merle attending his side from time to time, no one seemed to want to approach him. And EVERYONE loved dogs. Maybe he needed to try something else. Somehow, he had thought that maybe gaining rank would open up more conversations. It hadn’t. Before at least he got people telling him to do things, now he only got grumbles as he watched other apprentices get bossed around. Well, whatever. He was going to appreciate the one kinda friend he had now. Whenever she got here. If she got here. Corvus tried not to dwell on it for too long, perfectly content in braiding a simple flower crown for himself out of nearby flowers.
[attr="class","a1lyric"]i got nothing but dreams inside[break] i got nothing but dreams
[attr="class","a1lyric2"]i'm just young enough to still believe, still believe [break]young enough not to know what to believe
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It’s been a long morning. For a woman so old, Rosario Cunnigham is not one to be underestimated. Her skills as a natural born deal spotter, and bargain hunter have had years of experience. And she’s been to this lovely little festival so many times, she knows exactly how to get what she wants without blustering any of the merchants. Ever since he was old enough to walk and take directions, Aiden has been following along behind her, dutifully carrying her purchases while Macintosh settled in a quaint little spot by one of the lake shores and caught something to pass the time. He wasn’t allowed to snack in the picnic basket packed to the brim of snacks.[break][break]
Aiden is, for the most part, zoned out as he puts away packets of seeds and souvenirs to be unpacked and put away later. Most particularly, are the ones that Rosario insists on buying freely to send to long distance relatives and friends in the city. There’s a funny way her eyes glint when she mentions this after she hands him a small wreath of pink and red flowers. “These won’t keep too long, ma.” The knight began, unwilling to shove the freshly cropped flowers into his bag of holding. “It’s for now. Then when it withers, I’ll compost it.” Because of course, no cent wasted even with Aiden’s money. [break][break]
The old woman gestured for Aiden to bend down, and Aiden dropped to a knee to make it easier for her to adjust it. A couple of comments about his big head and she stopped in her fidgeting. “Oh? Charani Petrov is that you?” she called out, voice cutting through noise with ease. The redhead whipped his head around for a moment, not quite spotting the blonde for a moment. With a tense, “Gran-” he turned to her but she’s already waving and he looked back again. “Oh fuck.” He mutters as his thoughts go blank for a moment, and swiftly there’s a small smack at the back of his head. “Be nice.” Rosario said, welcoming smile barely breaking. Once again, he’s not quite ready to meet in such a charged setting. Shatterglass was…hard enough. Even then he wasn’t super sure about the results. He also had vague memory of the club afterwards, but you know. Alcohol.
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[attr="class","a1notes"] Charani Petrov imma pester this boy with one stupid ginger
[attr="class","dorado2"]wind and earth and sun and sky, bare feet sinking into a carpet of green, she throws her arms wide and laughs. her skirts billow around her legs and her hair spills freely down her back, léi-fēng curled atop her head like a tiny cornet glittering with lightning; sunlight drips golden filigree across her shoulders in patterns of leaves. meifon draws a lungful of spring air and laughs, again - freedom swells beneath her ribs.
"zhihao!" she calls out to her cousin, spinning around to dance between the flowers. dignity lies abandoned by the river in favour of the brilliance of day. "zhihao, brother of my heart! isn't it gorgeous today?"
how strange to think that a year ago, she would never have been able to see these fields of flowers. not like this, not without the weight of her name pressed against her chest like layers of suffocating cloth; not like this, eyes bright and skin darkened by the sun, mud between her toes, her hair wind-tangled and herself free to run along the riverbeds like any other person, heedless of any propriety.
Post by heath ambroise on Feb 21, 2020 6:37:12 GMT
Heath isn’t particularly bitter about the holiday. Sure, he didn’t have a boyfriend to spend a romantic picnic with like many of the other couples he had spotted today, but at least he was getting paid to do some coverage of the event. Not to mention, all the plantshapers that had volunteered to help. Even if he was alone, he sort of enjoyed talking to other plantshapers. You know, after the initial awkwardness of dancing around his reasons to do plantshaping. Usually once he mentioned he was from Eclipse Town, most people nodded in understanding.
Still, he was done helping out the volunteer he had been chatting up, if only because he realized their partner had arrived for a bit of more private conversation. Heath, stuttering out an awkward goodbye had moved himself away and pretended he had not just been witness to that. If only because it stirred up the bitterness inside a bit more. Sinclair growled something in the back of his head. “Fine, fine work it is.” He still needed a couple of notes now that there were more people milling about. “’Scuse me, mind if I ask you a few things on your holiday. I’m a reporter for the Sundial Times.” He began, making his way through the fields trying to grab anyone who didn’t look too overly lovey dovey or too busy.
sparse cloud cover dots the pale blue of the sky, tickled by splayed strands of hair; nestled between the damp earth, with its flowering hands, open-palmed to the wind, zhihao urges his fingers into themselves. pressed to his back is nüwa, idle upon the soil, basking in the tender sway of the breeze. how rare is it to feel, as a boy born from the first blood spilt in the name of war, a fragment of peace— to lay among silence without tensing for the onslaught he expects?
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a voice, but no battlecry: perhaps instead like bells of ceasefire, a direction to some sense of salvation. at times the both of you resemble river water. one peering up, the other down, one seeing through, the other a reflection. but is being met with the same face any different than glimpsing your own?
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what is that to mean, nüwa?
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you come here for calm, and continue to find the one who can both soothe and disrupt stillness. the river can run but it can never escape itself.
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knowing she has tempted a smile from him, the tigress chuffs softly; playing with the soil between her claws, she rises from the earth, releasing zhihao backwards beneath her stomach from the shift. unbothered by his curses, she moves, languid and regal, to greet meifon with a respectful bow of her pale brow. [break][break]
“xinmei,” zhihao calls, tugging on the waning tail of his familiar as he follows, earning a sharp admonishment. “has my dearest sister begun following me?”
"the vodka came diluted one more line I’m superhuman"
The old woman was not who he was expecting to see with a red headed boy in tow. He waved to the woman and her grandson as he watched two ten year old girls in his peripheral vision. “Hello Mrs Cunningham!”
As the two girls seemed occupied with what they were doing he didn’t want to stray too far from them. He waved to Aiden before his head turned away from the two to say something inaudible to the two girls near him.
Judging by Charani’s reaction the blonde seemed to have enjoyed their last encounter. He wasn’t being as touchy feely as he had been before their fight but he was slowly started to open up again with the redhead.
The post concert club was quite fun but it was mostly Charani enabling his friend to drink while dancing all around the club. Even pulling a random guy Aiden had probably briefly seen at one of those fancy parties into dancing with him... in a very not child friendly way. But hey they were both drunk so what. At least he didn’t try that with Aiden. That was good right? Right Aiden?
He was however relieved that aiden emerson was not working himself to death and was instead being his grandmothers grunt. That he was under her watchful eye was a good thing. He knew she always would do what was best for her grandson.... unlike that... other woman. It put his mind at ease. On the negative side one ten year old girl had started staring at the redhead. Well it was only for a brief moment, staring at him with a sour look on her face. At least for a brief moment before she went back to playing with her new friend.
[attr="class","dorado2"]her cousin looks so utterly relaxed splayed out among the flowers and the soil, his familiar draped across the grass like a queen bathed in gold. nüwa stands to greet her, then, even as zhihao grumbles at losing his back support. meifon kneels to embrace the tiger, too happy to care for even the semblance of dignity or restraint away from the judgemental eyes of their family. "nüwa, gorgeous as ever," she says, smiling like her teeth are pearls in her mouth.
her own familiar says nothing, a crown on her brow with watchful, waiting eyes. he speaks rarely, though, even to herself; it is not an oddity for him to go days, weeks without words. meifon does not pretend to understand the heart of her dragon - but she thinks even he is content, if not happy, at today.
throwing herself to sprawl on the ground by her cousin's side, she presses herself close, seeking the comfort of human contact after too many days within their distant, cold house. she closes her eyes, lets the sun drape her in sheets of golden warmth, lets the the wind play with the stands of her unbound hair, lets the earth cradle her within its ancient, gentle hands. "it's okay, zhi," she says, ignoring the question. "no one's here to hear."
we can be ourselves, no pretences, is the unspoken implication. so rare are the times without any sort of mask that sometimes, meifon is afraid that she would lose herself within her performances. and like this, like now... there are no disguises, no names. she can simply bask in the sun and wind and... be.
nüwa accepts meifon’s embrace with a contented expression, trailing after her as she falls beside zhihao; padding around the two, the tigress rests back upon the flowerbeds, placing her chin on zhihao’s shoulder. her warm breath fans across his skin, and with meifon beside him, his instinct relents; the glaze over his eyes melts; his shields come undone. [break][break] i wish i didn’t have to be reminded, he wants to say. [break][break] “you’re right, of course,” he supplies instead. “and it is an extraordinary day. wonderful to do nothing— especially somewhere you can’t be bothered.” [break][break] reprieve. it is here that his ribcage expands freely; that his lungs hunger, desperate, to breathe before they must restrict again; to consume as much as they can while they have it. it is so difficult, in these moments, to argue against living in insolence forever. [break][break] how nice it would be— to not be a son or daughter of a jade family. a family of forests, only because the deeper you wander, the harder it becomes to see anything but shadows. [break][break] “i never want to leave here. if i could freeze a moment in time and relive it eternally i think this day is the highest bidder.”
At home there were no holidays. Small celebrations were found in things such as rising dough, the sun after it rained. Children were born, birthdays were had, and it seemed a wedding would accompany years with particularly bountiful harvests. The mundane was as nourishing as an holiday. Still, Bello saw the appeal. Nature was beautiful and beastly. Anyone with an ounce of humility, would take the time to cower in her light. The grass was a cool blanket over rich soil, bright heads of flowers sprinkled throughout the field. Bello had chosen to be bare foot. The earth on his feet was a sigh of relief. Glory be, one day he would be apart of this expansive display.
He had heard this was a holiday for lovers. Bello had yet to smell romance's perfume. Sure, like lots of people he'd spent his teenage years chasing meaningless kisses but the desire for relationships was beyond him. Perhaps it was because he poured all his love and allegiance back into his family name, there was none left for another. His heart was all that he was and all he came from. Thoughtfully, he leaned against Bessie. Well, he did love her too. The soft skin of grass broke under him, pressing chlorophyll into his pants. She laid behind him, the mass that she was. Bello thought she looked very beautiful today (as beautiful as a cow could be). Soft brown fur hanging low between her dark eyes, wildflowers surrounding her.
Closing his eyes to bask, he's interrupted by meaningless chatter. Oh, a reporter. "Uh, the Sundial Times?" Bello opened one eye quizzically. "Nothing I got to say is much to report on." He said, taking a thorough look at this stranger. What a shame to be working on a day like this. Bessie does not speak, being a heifer of few words, but her presence is a reminder to Bello. Kindness has a place, and hopefully it is on your tongue and in youe words. Out of pity he decides to humor this "interview". "But feel free to ask me whatever. Name's Bello." He sticks a hand out, worn and calloused. He smiles, despite his stoic nature there are smile lines worn into his face. From happier, for abundant times.
[attr="class","a1lyric"]i got nothing but dreams inside[break] i got nothing but dreams
[attr="class","a1lyric2"]i'm just young enough to still believe, still believe [break]young enough not to know what to believe
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It is now Aiden’s turn to fidget not exactly having considered the slightest chance of seeing Charani. How could he? The holiday had always been so insular to the Cunnigham family. Aside from that, when he was with anyone blood related to him, he refused to think about any romantic implications concerning Charani. Around blood, family or not, he was too easy to read. His thoughts easily becoming turbulent at the flicker of a shameful dream or a short memory. This, even with family around, cut it even closer than the concert. He swiftly pushed back the memories of that night, from his other grandmother’s surprise appearance, to his first clubbing experience, to even the wildly inappropriate dreams that had plagued him after that night was a mess. A pretty good mess, but a mess all the same. As the boy tallied up his basic phrases and greetings, Rosario waved back and replied with ease. “Charani, it’s so nice to see you again.” She began loudly, already stepping forward to drag her panicky grandson after her. While she did not grasp at the nuances in the boy’s relationship, it had been obvious to her and her husband that something had happened. Whatever it was, it had kick started a current of thoughts everyone had already been thinking to flow into her grandson’s empty head. Sometimes she wondered if she should pray a little harder for her boy. [break][break]
Aiden stumbled after his grandmother, eyes on the ground before lifting back up at the blonde and glancing over at his company. He paled a bit noting somewhat of a family resemblance. Even if the presence of family sort of ruined the whole mood of the day, Aiden also had wanted to avoid anyone in the Petrov family for obvious reasons. Saturnalia had been a gauntlet of avoiding offhand invitations from the Petrov’s. From swerving some of their parties, to avoiding picking up Charani at his own estate, Aiden had bent himself backwards to avoid it. The redhead offered a shy wave at the pair of little girls only to immediately look away as he caught what he could only assume was a look of sheer disgust. In all fairness, that was a valid reaction to meeting him on any given day, but it was still a little off putting. ‘Calm down.’ She whispered softly, his familiar piping up from what he imagined was a nap. Deep breaths. Quiet breaths. You’re friends after all. “How’ve your day goin’?” the boy asked trying to settle into the usual groove despite the utter lack of preparation tat he usually had. [break][break]
He gave a nod over to the girls. “Babysitting right?” he added as Rosario also waved over at the little girls, always excited to meet someone new. She then turned to nudge Charani with her elbow. “I’m in the same boat. Little brat’s been trying to squirrel away from helping his ole nan for the past hour now.” The old woman added, teasing of course. It only served to knock over any sort of confidence Aiden had been trying to fake in the past 2 minutes. “Gran!” he protested. “A-All I said was if I should check on Gramps.” To which Rosario Cunnigham merely swatter at her excitable boy. “Seeing you here, now I know why.” Aiden felt a rush of heat spike directly from his heart up to his ears, brows knitting together in childlike annoyance. “Tell him about the food you made.” He snapped back, tossing up a distraction as the old woman happily patted the other boy detailing the very specific picnic they were going to have. All the while, Aiden stood beside her trying to shoot Charani a look that conveyed, ‘Sorry she’s excited.’ As if the Cunnighams could be anything but.
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[attr="class","a1notes"] Charani Petrov imma pester this boy with one stupid ginger
Post by heath ambroise on Feb 22, 2020 7:50:42 GMT
Despite the gruff exterior, the witch is surprisingly polite. He would’ve thought the guy would’ve continued with his eyes closed pretending to sleep. Heath would’ve done it. Though, that was more something he blamed his introversion on than any real annoyance with other people. But he can’t wear that hat when he’s working, and in a very practiced way, Heath dropped to a knee and leaned forward to grasp the young man’s hand firmly. His hands were not as rough or worked but his grip is still pretty firm. The pinkette noted, much to Sinclair’s disgust, that if Bello had been a decade older, he would’ve been stumbling over his own words right about now. “Don’t worry about it. I appreciate you talking to me.” He replied, dropping fully to the ground and putting pen to tiny paper.
“Heath. Nice to meet you.” His head dipped for a moment in greeting. “I’m doing a small piece on how witches have been spending their time. You know, aside from the typical significant other thing. It’s a part of the entertainment section.” He said giving a bit of context. “But anyway, mind telling me what your favorite part about today has been?” he asked, leaning forward as he touched a smaller bulb on the ground and spread a little bit of his mana into it, to coax out a small bloom. “It’s a weird holiday, but it’s weirdly familiar for me since most celebrations back home have some sort of plantshaper ritual. For me, it’s been all about collecting bulbs so I can add to my own collection at home.” He offered, in an attempt to make the man feel a bit more comfortable with him. Sometimes you needed to ease people in.
The reporter's hand is unsurprisingly softer than his own. For a moment after they shake, Bello takes his other hand and envelops Heath's. He holds it in between his own like an egg, careful not to break it. Slightly furrowing his brow, Bello looked squarely into the other's eyes. Patting Heath's hand, he pulled away leaning back into Bessie's side. "Heath, its a pleasure." The sun was hot and he enjoyed how it warmed his skin. He did not enjoy the way it burnt into his eyes. To solve this dilemma, he pulls a straw hat out of the back at his side. With one swift movement, he placed it crookedly on his head. Heat is trapped in between his dark hair and tan skin.
Heath presses his finger on a bud and it spreads open, rushing to make the company of the other blooms. She is beautiful. Her petals soft and untouched. Bello is jealous of this affinity, Heath was more than met the eye. He supposed witches, plantshapers, could come in all forms. To Bello he didn't look like someone who knew the earth. Still he supposed, city witches had window gardens and green houses. Even far from the Valley, they managed a holiday like this. A day, a moment to appreciate the naturally occurring beauty this world had to offer. "This is my first time celebrating... it is nice to just be in it all." His voice is soft, like a spring breeze. "Nature is so beautiful. I don't think anyone has to do more than spend a moment to take it in to celebrate it. It would be too much to say what part of it has been my 'favorite'."
The phrase "plantshaper ritual" sparks his interest. Perhaps he had more in common with Heath than appearances suggested. He scoots back, giving his back more support and leans forward. "You know my family, they're all plantshapers."Bello is proud of this, and he is happy to be in the presence of so many today. "Its nice to see so many of them out today ... soothes a bit of my homesick heart." His massive frame relaxes, arms and legs spread haphazardly. Bello embraces the day and hopes it embraces it back.
TAGS : heath ambroise Word count : 373 NoteS : farm boy likes flowers
Post by raziel of the autumn court on Feb 22, 2020 15:16:38 GMT
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There are fragments of possessions
People say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but Raziel did not subscribe to that particular philosophy. There were certain things which were beautiful on a universal level, like the way sunlight glowed against flowers in full bloom, or how cottony clouds drift across a bright sky and fracture the sun's light into silken beams. Raziel believed that there was an ideal sense of beauty engrained in the core psyche of humans, and that the meadows of Idunn's Garden on this particular day were sitting right on the cusp of that ideal.
Naturally, this made the gardens a prime location for merchants to set up stalls of new products, assuming they could match the scenery's aesthetic.
Raziel was glad to occasionally slip away to smaller events such as this, despite administrative responsibilities and grand publicity events demanding most of their time. And, though they were currently sitting on soft, designer pillows under a colorful chiffon canopy, surrounded by the floral aromas of steeping tea, and dressed in elegant, fitted silks, no one could claim that they weren't working as always. "Feel free to enjoy some of our tea as you sit and rest a while!" they gently announce with all smiles and warmth, honey in a meadow abuzz with witches.
