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","intext"]"I don't know why he couldn't do it himself." Sima had held her words until they were in the city's outskirts, just in case, "I mean, it's flowers. Flowers he wants to give to someone he obviously likes. Who cares what it looks like, shouldn't they be flattered just from receiving them? Getting someone else to do it for you? If we were florists, it'd be different, but come on." She stopped to pick a rock out of her sandal. These kind of assignments were terribly boring. Didn't pay well either, usually, hence why they were in the outskirts picking flowers instead of just buying a bouquet from any of the numerous florists in sundial. So far, she'd gathered a handful of pretty weeds, but she'd already long decided they wouldn't be suited for a bouquet. They looked pretty enough in her hair, though. When she ran out of space in her hair, she piled them onto moosely's antlers with a smile and a laugh.
Sima itched for something more interesting. She didn't want to spend her days just gathering flowers for some bloke who's too embarrassed to do it himself. Playing messenger wasn't her game. It was too easy, too boring. There was no challenge in it at all. She was irritated because of it. "We have an assignment for you." They'd said and her heart swelled. "Go get a bouquet." And her heart sunk. She would have to get through these little delivery gigs before they would trust her with anything substantial and she knew this, but it was still frustrating. She wanted to get going already. What did the coven even gain from worthless errands like this? She just didn't get it.
At least it was nice out. Maddox was with her, too, which helped make it all the more bearable. She was sometimes glad that you couldn't do a mission alone since it kept her from wallowing in her own irritation. It kept her on task. "That's some statis, isn't it?" Not that she expected Maddox to know. Between the two of them, she was far more knowledgeable on plants. "Let's get some of that." She didn't wait for a response before walking over. "Nice that they're pink. Usually they grow purple, but no one gives purple flowers to someone they like, y'know?" Purple was a nice colour, but no one really considered it romantic. It was usually given platonically, to friends or maybe your mom. Pink and red was the way to go if you were going to ask someone on a date and surely that's what dear Mister Macginnis was doing right? What with how flushed and flustered he became when she pressed for more information. Had to be.
[attr="class","m2content"]"too embarrassed to admit it, i assume," had come the reply, airy and carefree, the barest hints of a smile in his voice. there's an air about their client that has maddox thinking they care too much about how they look to others, and a nervous tinge to their voice that suggests a desire for nothing less than perfect for this mysterious 'friend'. then again, having two contracted witches ( with no formal experience in the art of flower arrangement, as far as he knows ) obtain such a gift rather undermines the principle. granted, maddox keeps his mouth shut around their client -- he isn't about to critisize the very person paying them, though the sum is far from extraordinary -- but with sima, he is more than inclined to agree.[break][break]
he can hear the impatience in her voice, see it swirling in those honeyed spirals, restless at playing at errandboy and messenger. it's a reflection of a younger version of himself, so eager to rise up and serve, that skinned knees from vaulting walls ( speed is of the essence! ) are worn as a badge of pride. then later, plying the air like a familiar tool, sending letters on invisible wings grants its own kind of satisfaction. he looks almost sympathetic for a moment as she looks away, adjusting her sandal, then can't help but laugh again when she finds new flowers to tuck into her hair, or moosely's antlers.[break][break]
one of the flowers float around the familiar, carried by an invisible breeze. it loops around the moose's antlers, graceful, and settles lightly down once again. another follows suit shortly after; soon, a restless halo encircles moosely's head. moosely looks rather pleased at this.[break][break]
"statis?" he repeats, questioningly, but she is gone without an answer. "uh, i guess?" he feels positively useless in discerning the meaning of flowers -- he knows what to get for funerals, or what a typical wedding bouquet vaguely resembles, but finds his mind drawing a blank when it comes to one expressing basic romantic intent. still, it doesn't dampen his enthusiasm in pointing out interesting looking flowers. [break][break]
"purple's a nice colour, though," he protests weakly, perhaps to some higher authority of colour psychology that determines that the 'p' in 'purple' stands for 'platonic'. "like those!" he's already moving, zeroing in on a clump of vertical pink-purple flowers bordering the path. moosely follows close behind, one gargantuan step for every two of maddox's.
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[attr="class","intext"]"Purple is nice, I agree, but it's just not romantic." Sima said before taking a pause to look at the flowers they'd put in the basket so far, "We're going to need more than this. Something nice and pretty, not just statice. Statice is filler." She looked around again, but there wasn't anything else interesting, yet. She made a sound of disappointment. She figured the florists got their flowers from somewhere, right? Shouldn't they be able to find more than just a bunch of statice? They were surely hiding somewhere, they just had to find them. "Here, Moosely, hold still." She walked up and, after a little effort, hoisted herself up onto his back. With significantly more grace, she stood up on Moosely's back and took another look around. Really, she should've gone with her initial idea of bringing her broomstick, but no. "It's a nice day out," She'd told herself, "we'll just walk. Won't take too long." She played herself this time, really.
"What should we do for the main flower? You know, the one that'll be like the focal point." She squinted as if it would let her see farther, " I'd like roses, but you don't find pretty roses in the wild. They're too fragile, too high maintenance. They just don't last and wild rose breeds just aren't as pretty." She turned herself around carefully on Moosely's back to look out the other way. She squinted again and then nodded in satisfaction. It was hard to see, but there was some colour in the distance, something other than green and brown. She pointed and smiled. "Let's go that way." She sat down on Moosely before she slid off, giving the familiar a good pet on the neck as thanks. She waited until Maddy was done picking flowers before she set off.
"Here, what about these?" She walked ahead in a half jog, "Wood lilies, I think? They're kind of small, but they ought to do, right?" She picked a few and put them in the basket with the statice. "Do you think we should look for more?" She picked another rock out of her sandal which she was quickly realizing was a terrible choice of shoe for what they were doing. The outskirts were full of small rocks that she could all too easily feel through the thin sole of her sandals. At least she looked cute, though, which is what really counted. It applied to the flowers, too, and so she looked at the flowers in the basket rather intently, trying to arrange them in her mind. It looked okay enough in her head, but she was pretty sure she'd be disappointed if she got a bouquet with only two kinds of flowers. Then again, she did have kind of high standards when it came to things like that.
[attr="class","m2content"]sima's speculation pushes his protest into a mental note; 'p' in 'purple' stands for 'platonic'. the flower, held gently between his fingers, finds its way to moosely's flowercrown, and joins the moving halo. the basket remains pitifully empty, only a splattering of delightful pink resting at the bottom. maddox scans the horizon, and the fruitlessness of it plants an idle thought into his mind, reproachful and biting: 'really? a leviathan witch, ostensibly a force to be reckoned with being overwhelmed by a lack of flowers? oh! how the mighty have fallen!'[break][break]
his gaze slides sideways, meeting moosely's own stare ( and realising, with the slightest delay, that the voice had not been his, but his familiar's remarks ). he huffs. moosely sniffs, as how a telepathic, magical moose familiar typically sniffs, which really isn't unlike how he's seen some knights look down their noses at those who don't make the cut. still, moosely obliges graciously when sima stands on his back to gain a better vantage point, while maddox -- listlessly picking more statice not too far from them -- straightens up and tiptoes, straining to see whatever sima might see. granted, he doesn't see anything, but apparently sima does; she sets off at a half-jog, and he has to run to catch up.[break][break]
"you're the expert," comes the ever helpful reply, peering at the bright orange flowers. "they look pretty happy, i guess -- so yes?" he brushes his hand against its petals, as if it would solicit some sort of reply. when no new knowledge comes to him and leaves him as deficient in the meaning of flowers as he was before, he turns back to sima. "do you want to just ride moosely? i mean--" gesturing to his own feet, in worn but functionable boots, then to her own sandals, then pointedly at moosely's back, "-- it might be more comfortable?"
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[attr="class","intext"]"No," She said rather defiantly, "I will not so easily be beaten down. It's good exercise, anyway." Because she clearly didn't work out enough. Muscles ran thick under her skin and it wasn't as if she believed it was good exercise, because she knew very well that this was terrible exercise, it was that she didn't want to admit that she had, perhaps, not thought this through as well as she should have. She wasn't going to admit that her feet ached, because it wasn't that bad. It was completely tolerable and would be much more so if rocks stayed outside of her sandals. "We just need to find a few more." She said wistfully.
Time seemed to pass faster once they actually found flowers to pick. A few more handfuls gathered up and Sima decided they had enough. Now was the easy part: putting it together. Or at least, she'd thought it'd be easy. She couldn't seem to get it quite right and so she'd passed it to Maddox, but neither of them could really seem to make it look like a bouquet someone would be happy to receive. No matter their efforts, it looked like a bunch of weeds and wildflowers thrown together by amateurs. Florists made it all look so easy. Sima supposed it was like any art form, though. You gotta develop the eye for it.
"I think— And I want you to know that I hate saying this," The flowers in her hair had long wilted and the ones they'd been working on were no better off, "but I think we should just buy a bouquet." She chewed over he own words for several seconds before looking up at Maddox. "I think that's the best option at this point. What about you, though?" She asked, "What do you think?" They'd certainly still make a profit. Less than what Sima wanted, but it wasn't like they were being paid poorly. Her legs ached as did her hands, dirty and scratched from thorns and rocks. This certainly hadn't been the cute and fun time out with her boyfriend she'd hoped it to be. "Sorry to drag all this out." She got up to her feet and brushed the dirt from her pants before she picked the wilted flowers from her hair.
[attr="class","m2content"]defiance sparks in her eyes -- not a surprise. in fact, he keeps a small, affectionate smile to himself, and quietly drops the idea. "really," he hums, not quite a question, but content to let sima lead the way. his gaze returns to the fields again, eyes narrowing, as though sheer intensity would allow him to spy the orange dots upon the horizon. ( no matter that he doesn't spot them, though, because they travel forward nonetheless, and eventually chance upon another patch of flowers. ) [break][break]
flowers in hand, they settle down to form the bouquet. or, at least, a valiant attempt is made. sima tries first; eventually the flowers make their way to maddox's hands, and he's never felt quite so inept before as he does now. moosely, watching over his shoulder, only offers a dry laugh in response to his fourth -- no, fifth -- failure. maddox isn't an artist, and despite the craftsmanship that being a blacksmith might demand, it's quite different to flower arrangements.[break][break]
"no, no, don't apologise." his left leg has fallen asleep under him. the audacity. "i think you're right, actually," comes the response, almost sheepish, as he stands up. behind, moosely, with all the grace a bull elk typically has ( which, in moosely's case, is not very much at all ) shakes off wilting flowers with a snort. "i think it was fun, anyway. nice change of pace, yeah?" then he grins, suddenly, brightly. "'sides, it was with you, right?that makes anything fun, in my book."[break][break]
faced with the task of buying a bouquet, he returns his attention to the city. "so, know any florists?"
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[attr="class","intext"]"Yeah, your right. It was pretty nice." She smiled and tossed one of the perkier flowers at him, cheeks flushed just a little, "I don't, but it can't be that hard to find one, right?" She stopped and scowled. "No, that kind of thinking is why this is already taking so long. If we ask around, we'll probably find one a lot faster than if we wander the city." She shook her head and ran a hand through her hair. "Yeah, let's ask around and see who we can find before it gets too late. Let's ride Moosely back. It'll probably be faster that way."
Ah, it felt nice to be back in the city proper, the streets still bustling even as the sky began to darken. Sima had opted to walk again after they were back in Sundial and she'd regained the bounce in her step. The dinner rush was beginning and the smell of food and chattering of bars and open-air restaurants gave a relaxing sort of vibe. It took a little asking around to get anything more than vague directions of "somewhere on eighth" or "buy the supermarket." Finally, though, they did get an address and Sima happily followed the given directions. Thankfully they were still open even in the evening hours. "Here, I'll go place the order or whatever and I'll be right back." She gestured for Maddy to stay outside before ducking inside. She stepped back outside a few minutes later. "They said it would take a couple hours. Do you want to grab some food?"
[attr="class","m2content"]a flower tucked behind a ear, bright against dark hair. he offers an amused reply, "should we have asked the trees for the best spots to pick flowers?" deftly, he plucks off errant wilted flowers, and narrowly avoids being hit by the moose's antlers as his familiar shakes himself like a dog; a moose-sized dog. "oh, really-- moosely i swear -- is that how we're doing this?" playful banter with the familiar, muttered in an undertone, breaks off momentarily to readdress sima. an unnecessarily exaggerated bow later, swept low for theatricality, and they are making their way back to the city, in search of a florist.[break][break]
moosely seems all too eager to oblige, despite having to work to carry the weight of two. a brief brush against the familiar's mind grants him insight into the fact that moosely might not enjoy flower-picking too much. understandably, it is a difficult task to appreciate with the lack of opposable thumbs.[break][break]
the golden street lights provide sufficient illumination for the night life to slowly pick up their pace and continue unfettered. for a brief moment, he worries that the florist may be closed -- though another part of him is convinced that sundial is a big enough city to warrant multiple florists in business -- but a few questions, courtesy of sima, are enough to point them in the right direction.[break][break]
a nod of acknowledgement as sima enters the shop ( he peers inside curiously, mildly baffled at how the variety of colours on display can still somehow create a cohesive display ) and, while waiting, ponders dinner plans idly. moosely by now is gone, retreating for fear of accidentally impaling some innocent in the dark. "food sounds good right about now," comes the response. he looks back out at the streets; choices aplenty. "what would you like? i'm good with just about anything."
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[attr="class","intext"]Sima hadn't felt particularly hungry until they'd gotten into town, and then it gnawed at her rudely considering how quiet it'd been before. "Well, preferably something fast." She mused as she wandered down the street. This area was full of different restaurants, they just had to pick one without too long a wait or too high a price point. "Ah, here, what about this place?" Sima stopped in front of a sea food restaurant. Maddox seemed to agree with the choice and Sima smiled, tired but happy.
"Two, please. Outside, if you're able." She hummed to the host who greeted them as they walked in. They were led back outside to the patio seating and Sima took her seat at one end of the table. Quickly she buried her attention in the menu, keeping fairly quiet while she weighed her options until their host came back. "I'm going to get the mackerel. And just water for me, thank you." She smiled back at Maddox as their host left again. "Do we have any plans for tomorrow?" She asked, but she knew the answer was no, "Why don't we go to Amagika? It's been at least year since we last went. What do you think?" It'd been a while since they'd gone on an actual proper date and this was Sima asking Maddox if he wanted to go on one. While they spent much of their time together, Sima hardly considered any of it a date. It wasn't like they had anything better to do anyway. Their next mission assignment wasn't expected for another couple of days and they otherwise had no plans for how to spend their free time.
[attr="class","m2content"]he follows, eyes wandering across the restaurants that border the street. fpr all the variety that is laid before them, picking one -- just one -- is a difficult decision. it's a good thing that sima is there with him; she points one out, he nods, and they enter, likely eager for the rest that a meal provides. who knew flower-picking would be so difficult? or bouquet-making, for that matter. suddenly, he doesn't quite envy florists.[break][break]
"the salmon for me, and uh, water for me too. thanks," is his order, a split-second behind sima's own. a polite smile, then his attention turns back to sima, and the suggestion of a date. one would imagine the exhaustion to melt away at the prospect, his eyes suddenly glittering even in the dim light. "amagika, huh. haven't been there in a while."[break][break]
a grin, and a nod. "sounds good to me." there are many ways to spend his free time -- most of it revolves around work, coven-related or simple smithing -- but a date to amagika is, arguably, one of the best things he can think of. that, overlaid by casual conversation, and the slow approaching deadline of a mission awaiting completion, occupy his thoughts for the duration of the meal. ( it is, in retrospect, an excellent meal, made all the better by the company kept. )[break][break]
metal clinks against ceramic as he sets the fork and knife down. "how long did the florist say he'd take, again? we should probably get moving soon-ish."
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[attr="class","intext"]She lit up when Maddox agreed to the park, although weariness was still heavy in her face. It certainly lifted her mood and the food only improved it further. The mackerel came and once it was in front of her she really realized how hungry she was. Still, she forced herself slow. Scarfing down food wouldn't do her any good and she did want to enjoy the flavour. Even at the end of it, she was still hungry and had they not had business to finish attending to, she might've ordered dessert. She regrettably denied the dessert menu from their host and paid.
"Yeah, we should probably get going." She hummed in agreement as they gathered their things and left to return to the florist. Again, Sima went in alone and, this time, he returned with two arrangements: The necessary bouquet and an arrangement. He shoved one into Maddox's hands. "Here. Why don't we put it on the kitchen table?" She smiled brightly, the brightest smile she'd given throughout this whole ordeal. "Come on, let's give these to the guy and go home. I'm ready to sleep until tomorrow night."
"What took you so long?" The client (what was his name again? Macginnis?) was irritated and it quickly, immediately soured Sima's own mood. She bit back sharp words of "you should've done it yourself then" and "who the fuck does this much shit to get a bouquet?" She forced a smile, bitter as it was, and thrust the bouquet into his hands.
"We've done as you've asked. We went to several florists trying to find what we thought was best." She lied easily and spoke crisply, aiming to shut down his complaints, "Surely, they'll like these. If they don't—" 'Well, you won't stand a chance because the problem would be you and not the flowers', she bites back, "—Perhaps they has no taste for the romantic." Macginnis seems to begrudgingly accept that as an answer. "Now, the agreed payment, please." Did he think they would forget? Sima smiled nice and sweet as he handed over their due money. "Pleasure doing business with you, darling. Good luck on your date." And she turned sharp and quickly made off before he could, god forbid, ask for dating advise or something. "Come on, Maddy, let's go home." She sighed with a half smile, "And let's not do a mission like this again."
