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.
Reach out your hands Don't turn your back Don't walk away How in the world Can I wish for this? Never to be torn apart Close to you 'Til the last beat Of my heart
Chuckles, softer than the leaves that fluttered about the pair, echoed with resonance through the forest that reared Magnus' perfect position: his eyes still set upon the crystalline waters of the Verdi river. His familiar, Sylven, quietly nestled along the witch's back with his massive, woven side: the canine's white fur ruffling loosely against the satchel that rested over the male's rear. His fangs bared slightly, still wrought with the fluttering dreams of chasing prey across the open plains. Magnus smiled lightly, running his fingers gently over his sleeping companion: not daring to wake the beast from his peaceful slumber.
His brows fell, lids lowering as he settled further into his comfy, dormant familiar. "Life doesn't get much better, does it Sylv?" The male questioned, laughing eagerly as he turned his cheek further into the creature. In response, the wolf snorted almost intuitively...as if he were still awake. Magnus allowed himself some momentary skepticism before rolling his eyes and sitting up. He'd not the slightest inclination to sleep, at least not just yet. The river roiled so subtly, but the waves within the bluenette still stirred with a silent vigor. He wanted to do something, but he didn't know what.
His fingers dug sharply into the dirt, feeling over the soil until he removed what appeared to be a smoothed pebble. No doubt lost to the current back when the river was higher: the precious gem simply awaited the day that it could finally be unearthed. Thankfully, Magnus offered it the opportunity that it desperately wanted. He eyed the shimmering rock briefly, tossing it into the river: which it eventually did after a few quick skips across the glassy surface, leaving ripples as the stream continued its idle flow. Perhaps somebody would come along...or something would happen. Anything would be acceptable at this point, even as the sun dipped lazily into the horizon...as if waiting to go to sleep itself. Magnus contemplated takings its heed, but chose not to: holding onto an imaginary hope that would probably lead him astray. Go figure, right?
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on May 13, 2017 12:12:56 GMT
nothing worth doing
reality is a lovely place, but i wouldn't want to live there
there is something quietly breathtaking in the timeless yet transient nature of the natural world, something awe-inspiring in the contradicting dichotomy that balances so perfectly on a knife's edge. there are mountains, ageless and ancient with the patience to endure the steady tread of a millennium; there are wildflowers, blossoming even as they die in a blaze of a thousand coloured hues, the child of rainbows that return every year for a brief but glorious life; and then there are rivers, gracefully meandering the cracks of the earth as they split and merge and slowly change the lay of the land over the course of a million years. such deceptive power trapped in that which is ever overlooked; such beauty in the veneer of peace of something so potentially destructive.
and he meanders, too, like the river itself, wandering by its sloping banks as he lets his thoughts drift to the whisper of its hushed breath.
'soothing,' his familiar murmurs, tranquility like the stillness of clear skies echoing down their bond. and he agrees - when he has no patience to endure the passionate, irrational sparks of human society, the natural world provides a haven to which he can escape to. a smile touches his face, a concession of humanness he does not allow himself in the presence of others, but feels comfortable enough to share as a secret between kirjava and the sky.
and then he steps out of the foliage’s embrace, and then he steps out into open where the sun reigns supreme, and then… there is someone nestled in the grass by the river, a great white wolf by his side.
kasimir halts, steps faltering into disquieted silence. the irony of coming across another being when contemplating the preferability of nature to the company of people does not escape him.
’should we leave?’ kirjava flicks her ears up, a gleam of razor sharp alertness sparking in her amber-gold eyes. he knits his mouth together in a tight line, a small furrow appearing in the crease of his brows. he is fairly certain that they were not heard - years of hard earned instinct has carved the need for silence into their very bones - but they are upwind of the wolf familiar, and kasimir is all but certain that they would have been scented. they could still leave of course, they could melt back into the tenebrosity of the shadows like the phantoms they are trained to be but…
but he is… tired of hiding, tired of weaving the very essence of nothingness into his soul till he can barely tell if he, kasimir, even exists anymore; and it is with this nihilistic thought that impulse flares crimson in his blood and he steps forwards into the light.sorry for long post, here is a potato *virtual potato*
