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.
Upon arrival, the designated apprentices had been separated fromm the guests. The witches that would be partaking in the festivities were given a tour of the Valley via drawn carriages. The first day, they were allowed to rest in their given rooms and prepare for the official ceremony tomorrow.[break][break]
And now, in the grand Rosestorm Hall at the heart of Gale Valley, the red ribbon was cut and the festivities officially began.[break][break]
The fashion in Gale Valley seemed to be frilly skirts and high boots for women, and bowties and high boots for men, and the rustic and hard-working culture of its citizens showed in their perfectly in-synch performance. Dancers filled the center of the hall as beverages and food items lined the sides. Important figures of business throughout Sundial occupied the corners and the balconies, discussing trade. And Vincente Mallori smiled and greeted distinguished guests, surrounded by two high-ranking members of the Valley-based coven Starwatch. [break][break] As the performance was supposed to die down, it quickly morphed into something else. The high-speed and quite beautiful dancers starting picking at the guests, pulling them away from conversations and meals to join the dance. [break][break] The leader of the group of dancers pulled even Mallori from the clutches of his bodyguards, and clapping and whistling ensued as the Swing Dancing began.
[attr="class","stafftempsubtext"]
how to participate
[break][break] Your character has been dragged into the dance-- whether by will out without it, there's no escaping now. A few rounds have passed, and it's very likely that the unlikeliest of couples have formed as a result. Whether just getting the hang of it, or perhaps born for the stage, everyone is dancing now. [break][break] The announcer for the night has also made one fact clear- Vincente Mallori, the mayor of Gale Valley has also joined in on the dance. At the end of the night, whoever ends up with the mayor is in for a prize. [break][break] In order to find yourself in Mallori's arms when the music stops, you simply have to be the last poster with a post of 200 words or more before the next round begins. However, the staff will not be giving away how long the event will be going on for. And while there is no real 'word count' active for all posts-- in order to qualify as the winning post, you must have 200 words. [break][break] Finally, to create the feeling of truly being "swing dancing" -- you can only post a maximum of three times with a single partner before you must switch to another.
everywhere i go, i am spellbound; you cannot have this control on me
0317 words
NOTES
Who will be Tony's dance partner I wonder...
Tony adjusted the tie around his neck as he stood leaning against the wall at first, observing the crowd as they mingled and went about their business. His eyes scanned faces and attires, judging those who were rich and powerful, or those who were more like him. It was easy to tell who were the elites, with their haughty expressions and the unmistakable aura of superiority that oozed from their pores.
He looked at everything in the room and imagined all of the expenses that went into the preparations. Thought of how a quarter of that amount could have provided for his family for years. The mood was horrible and would make it difficult for him to enjoy the festivities, but he couldn't stop himself from thinking of it.
As he watched people moving as an entire group, he sighed and pushed off the wall. A dance could help take his mind off such grim musings. Hopefully.
The music played throughout the room as people positioned themselves and found random partners. Tony forced a smile at his as he bowed first, then stepped forward to grasp her hand. Then they began to turn and sway along to the music, one pair among hundreds of others who participated.
There was some bit of small talk as Tony introduced himself and complimented his partner. Thank god he didn't embarrass himself by stepping on her foot or dancing out of rhythm or out of turn. One of his teacher's lessons had been in proper dancing. 'Something you might need to know in the future' he'd mentioned. Of course, sometimes to infiltrate a place one needed to pretend to be all kinds of people. Taking on the persona of a noble or a lord was familiar to him.
After a while, the cue to switch dance partners came. He released his hold on the woman and turned to grasp someone else's.
Post by maddox rothscus ✨ on May 15, 2017 15:21:31 GMT
[attr="class","nikki19"]
ONE MAN'S OBSESSION IS ANOTHER MAN'S TRASH
[attr="class","ntagstyle"]233 WORDS, FOR LITERALLY ANYONE, DANCE WITH THIS IDIOT I GUESS
[attr="class","nikki20"]
extravagance isn't something that a blacksmith's son accustoms himself to. generally, it isn't something maddox pictures himself ever getting used to; white-washed walls and whatever is closed within cannot possibly be admired with a single sweep of the room. the music is loud, the colours falling just short of overwhelming. they start clamoring at the edge of his vision, then gradually, he grows accustomed to the tremulous cresendoes and decresendoes, the wave-like undulations of the notes. the honeyed gold of a flute solo almost reminds him of sima -- and with a pang, realising how much he wishes they were here with him tonight -- but then it is joined by a medley of other instruments, and a dancer grabs his hand.
he starts hesitantly, a sheepish smile here, a modest disclaimer, 'sorry, i'm terrible at dancing,' and a well-placed laugh. there is an ease to his movements, albeit not entirely polished, nor a fantastic dancer, but possessing enough casual grace to not draw undue attention. conversation flows between them just as smoothly, light, surface-deep, like flowers floating atop a river. around them, the music swells, the colours grow louder, he blinks.
then there is a light shove, a bell-like laugh that accompanies a sudden staccato beat. he takes the cue and spins off, a faint smile on his lips. maddox extends a hand; it brushes along the wrist of another in an open invitation.
X MARKS THE SPOT
[attr="class","nikki22"]I NEED REVENGE, GOTTA HAVE HIS HEAD. I'M GONNA FINISH THIS AND
Post by Matteo Garcia on May 15, 2017 16:43:30 GMT
[nospaces][googlefont=Roboto:300,400,900]
[attr="class","jarburnbb"]
[attr="class","jarburnbbleft"]
[attr="class","jarburnbbpic"]
[attr="class","jarburnbbt"]
[attr="class","jarburnbbicon"]
[attr="class","jarburnbbat"] maddox rothscus ✨ || im sorry for literally shoving him into maddox's arms
[attr="class","jarburnbbr"]
[attr="class","jarburnbblyrics"]
[attr="class","jarburnbblyr"]Do you hear?
I couldn't get enough, so I had to self destruct, The heat was on, rising to the top Everybody's goin' strong That is when my spark got hot I heard somebody say Burn baby burn! Disco inferno!
[attr="class","jarburnbbrp"]
How did he even get to this dance? He'd been promised food and a party, yes, but he'd forgotten just how much he disliked social events that were not just ... party. He was fine with loud music. But dancing? He was the type to shake it out rather than waltz. Or foodfights! He'd be totally fine with foodfights. But this - this was high class. This wasn't like the kind of fun you could have in the lesser-known neighbourhoods. This was posh and extravagant and everything that Matteo was not.[break][break] For the majority of the time, he hangs out by the food table. Might as well stuff himself while he's there, he thinks. After all, there's no way he's going to dance -[break][break] The thought is whisked away after he's pulled in by a random stranger to dance. His first thoughts are "who the hell would ever pull in scrawny, strange old me into a dance", but they're soon replaced with utmost concentration to not step on his partner's toes. His partner is a pretty lady, though she doesn't look exactly like one of the higher classes - there's not a sign of that snobbiness that comes with riches. He gives her a smile, conscious of his plain black-and-white suit with the unbuttoned shirt collar. He almost crushes her toes once and he apologises profusely, but he's quickly learning. He becomes fluid in his movements - he's not perfect, but he can at least manage the steps and the pace. Soon, the tune indicates for a change in partners. Thing is, he doesn't know he's meant to switch, and as his hand reaches out, he's shoved from behind into the arms of another. Who just so happens to be very tall.[break][break] Disoriented, he does what's expected - slips his hands into the other's and follows the dance tune. It only takes him a moment to realize he's dancing with a man. A cute one, at that, but what he's focused on is that he's dancing with a male. His ears redden, but he takes it in stride and gives off a laugh. [break][break] "How are you?" he says with a chuckle, sweeping into the next step. Admittedly, he's not quite sure what to do - is he to play the part of the female partner? He doesn't know the steps. Hopefully his new partner does, or else Matteo will be making a fool of himself.
Although Zephyr thought that Salem used witchcraft like a crutch in its advancement, he was still wildly grateful that its obsession with magic made it possible for him to have recreated his lost legs with such responsive replacement. Given that he'd gone through a significant chunk of his life without the simple ability to stand, he rarely ever passed up the opportunity to push the limits of their capabilities (even despite the very tempting snacks off to the side of the whirlwind dance floor).
The inventor appeared to be having a grand time, and most who could look past his peculiar looks found his grin and boundless energy to be contagious, and even synergistic with the upbeat music.
This energy turned out to be a bit too much, however, as he and his partner swung away from each other with significantly more force than he'd been expecting from the partner switch cue. Spock was flung from his back with a quick yelp, flying a short distance before tightly grasping an outstretched arm expecting a new dance partner. A very brief moment of alarm passed as Zeph looked to Spock to check if she was hurt, while the spider monkey glanced between her human host and the human at the end of her trajectory to make sure they weren't about to get kicked out. Both content with what they saw, Spock gladly hopped down from her emergency perch on the stranger's arm, standing in front of him and offering one of her long arms for his hand in a dance.
"Bleedin' showoff," Zeph huffed, turning back to whoever his partner had just switched with. "Ah, not you obviously..." he quickly verbally backpedalled.
@anthonyskies I'm one HTML/CSS-to-ProboardsCode away from having a real template and one minute away from passing out & surrendering to sleep -- pls alert me to any dumb mistakes
Post by ashanti verna on May 16, 2017 13:01:31 GMT
[nospaces]
[attr="class","dna2"]
[attr="class","title"]
have i always loved you? have i always known? / have i always loved you alone?
[attr="class","posty"]
[attr="class","posttext"]
"Huh?" Ashanti asked the stranger, half dazed at the switch and half confused about what exactly had been said. She was afraid she'd missed something important and she frowned, letting the single expression overcome her in a sorry show of the whole day's feelings.[break][break]
Because she was feeling like shit.[break][break]
The week's worth of failures and inadequacies had caught up to her, and after being taunted with her sister's name and failing to be accepted into the apprentice exchange program, Asha just wanted to roll on the ground and bury herself in protective blanket, cryogenically preserve her body, and maybe in 500 or so years she'd allow a really beautiful man to awaken her and make her his princess. [break][break] Or something.[break][break]
But alas, she had received the warm harms of a man that looked terribly horrifying, if not somewhat scary. She blinked repeatedly and tried to smile, but it came out all wrong. It really didn't have much to do with the poor burned man, so she gave him an apologetic look that he'd probably hate her for later. [break][break] The sour mood radiated off her despite her best efforts to swat it away with fake smiles and laughs and "oh, I'm sorry, I'm such a terrible dancer"s. Caught off guard like this, it was painfully evident in her face. She didn't not want to be here...she just wished she could be someone else. Anyone else. [break][break] "Lovely music, isn't it?" she tried, but it was so weak she though she herself would faint.
[attr="class","notes"]
notes congrats, it's a grumpy ice witch[break][break]Zephyr Hart
The first thing Tony noticed was that his partner had wrapped their arms around his entire arm. Second, the arm that held his was a lot more hairy than what he expected in a human being. He finally looked down at the small spider monkey that was clinging to him.
Words escaped him as he stared back. If this was a witch, they had very impressive transfiguration spell. Why they chose to appear as a monkey in this gala was an entirely different matter. It could probably be the eccentricities of the rich and powerful; playing a prank on others, knowing they weren't going to get into too much trouble.
He took it in good stride, smiling as the monkey climbed down, then held its arm to him. Straightening up first, he bowed then grasped its hand. Their height forced him to bend down at an awkward angle, but there was nothing else he could do unless he wanted to lift it up and swing it around. Thank god he didn't have to dance with it through the entire sequence.
The music was still playing, and it took him a few seconds before he got back into its rhythm and began circling along with the monkey. Surprisingly it did well to keep up with him and didn't even step on his feet by accident. If it wasn't for the difference in height, it would've been an enjoyable dance.
"Sorry, I must ask because I have no idea and I don't want to offend you by mistake. Are you a male or female monkey?"
Post by artemi zakharchenko on May 17, 2017 1:06:06 GMT
[nospaces]
In hindsight, if he had known he was going to be - for failure of a better word - forced to dance, he no doubt would... have drank a little less. Or at least tried to. But with waiters gliding across the floor, so willing to entertain their guests and keep them content with various palatable hor d'oeuvres and local drinks, it had honestly seemed the best way to put up with this farce.[break][break]
Society events were such a thing he only put up for work, not... for entertainment. The oppulence it exuded; the powdered smiles and trill laughter, demure glances, defeaning music, the ostentatious behaviour and equally grandiose surroundings were just... something a man from humble beginnings could never truly feel comfortable in. He could pretend, but he'd never belong to something like this. If it were for him, he wouldn't even be here; he'd much rather be part of that apprentice programme if his so-called friend Drakos had given him a choice. Who - might he add - was conveniently no where to be spotted.[break][break]
Abandoned to the talons of peacocks who floated and paraded and strutted in time to a jaunty beat, Artemi had ascquiesed to a dance. One dance. Merely because there was no polite, delicate way to decline a lady's invite to the floor. But, as it would seem, it wasn't a dance he'd be able to prise himself from easily. Once he was caught in its dizzying snare, in its energetic whirlwind of paces and twirls, returning to his table was... no task he was capable off. At least not in his mildly inebriated state. Just... mildly.[break][break]
"P-Pardon..." he muttered, as his dancing partner finally relinquished her merciless grasp on him, just to latch onto another choice prey, and let him stagger into... what he assumed... would be another dancing partner? It took a lot of restraint to hold back the groan that almost came out on impulse, his behaviour clearly loosened up a touch by the complimentary refreshments. Hoping he'd at least have a moment to scrabble together his composure, Artemi closed his slightly glazed eyes for a brief moment, the room seeming to spin even more behind closed eyelids, and brought his spindly fingers up to make some attempt at combing his murky bangs back into submission. "One moment... please. Just a second."
notes,100% chance of toes being stepped on[break] tag, @anyone who wants a dancing partner who's helped himself to the free bar???
[googlefont="Source Code Pro:400"] [googlefont="Source Sans Pro:400"]
what a horrifying start. first the oncoming impact of everything and everyone bombarding her to dance -- just because she looks like a male in that suit of hers. well, it shouldn't be too bad. even if vera forged a signature of her own writing to be in this event. as much as she has doted on the young woman, alric couldn't help but feel helpless when she's dragged into something so odd. she never changed, huh? at least she knows some of her actions have consequences... alric had no dance partner, and as she was preoccupied with drinks passed around by the waiters, she was roped into one by a devilishly handsome man who had no problem on sticking close to her.[break][break]"quite frankly, your breath stinks, and i am not fond of you gripping my ass like that --" she glared at the man, who released her as soon as alric's civet appeared on her shoulder, squeaking angrily. as much as alric enjoyed wearing a suit than a dress, there are times when men will be men. but the dance must move on, and as much as she disliked the swaying of movement and erratic bumping into strangers arms, she knew deep inside she would use a moment like this in a story. maybe a cliche fate book, that'll turn into a series of angst and a death to great side characters.[break][break]with thoughts barely ending, she was greeted by another partner. anne-marie the civet squeaked softly and looked at the new partner. this one has long hair!! really long hair! i want to -- alric glanced at her civet for a bit before turning back to her new partner. "oh, take your time, i honestly think we both need a break from dancing." the best part about alric's hair was that it was tied to the back with a red ribbon, so no stray hair would get in the way of her dancing.
Post by maddox rothscus ✨ on May 17, 2017 17:07:58 GMT
[attr="class","nikki19"]
ONE MAN'S OBSESSION IS ANOTHER MAN'S TRASH
[attr="class","ntagstyle"]208 WORDS, FOR Matteo Garcia, I'M SO SORRY THIS IS TERRIBLE
[attr="class","nikki20"]
for the briefest of moments there's confusion in how he fumbles for direction -- neither are profession dancers, he gathers quickly -- then he slips back into the rhythm of the music, recalling the steps from his previous partner. the music settles, a steady rhythm to give them a breather, and he finds himself feeling almost clumsy in comparison. any reservations and insecurities are swept under the carpet by the next beat, a decisive movement carrying him into the next step smoothly.
"not too bad, really, considering how this isn't really--" he gestures with a finger, vaguely--"my kind of scene." his voice is low, as though divulging confidential information, jovially conspiring tone and all. there is no lie in his statement; he attributes any semblance of inconspicuousness to the inclination towards acting that leviathan tends to inculcate. if only leviathan had offered dance classes.
his eyes shift from his partner, to scan the couples dancing around them, then back. "i don't suppose you're familiar with the dance?" maddox smiles here, a sheepish sort of grin, apologetic. "it's not a big problem if you don't -- i mean -- we could just copy the rest, i guess?" he moves as though part of the crowd, scarcely skipping a beat as he glides forward.
X MARKS THE SPOT
[attr="class","nikki22"]I NEED REVENGE, GOTTA HAVE HIS HEAD. I'M GONNA FINISH THIS AND
Post by Matteo Garcia on May 17, 2017 17:30:29 GMT
[nospaces][googlefont=Roboto:300,400,900]
[attr="class","jarburnbb"]
[attr="class","jarburnbbleft"]
[attr="class","jarburnbbpic"]
[attr="class","jarburnbbt"]
[attr="class","jarburnbbicon"]
[attr="class","jarburnbbat"] maddox rothscus ✨ || nono this is good im sorry matteo's a mess also im sorry this is so short
[attr="class","jarburnbbr"]
[attr="class","jarburnbblyrics"]
[attr="class","jarburnbblyr"]Do you hear?
I couldn't get enough, so I had to self destruct, The heat was on, rising to the top Everybody's goin' strong That is when my spark got hot I heard somebody say Burn baby burn! Disco inferno!
[attr="class","jarburnbbrp"]
Matteo laughs easily, enjoying the light atmosphere. He's glad as to how easily his partner takes the dance in stride, and he takes the next step with little hesitation - though he narrowly misses stepping on the taller male's toes. His eyes are glancing at the other partners, and he's doing his best to mirror their movements.[break][break] "I understand you entirely," Matteo nods. Parties like this aren't what he's used to, not at all. He's more the type to have out a confetti bomb to chuck in the air. And for Matteo, his kind of scene is more like being in the Sun Cafe or being in his workshop. "I'm not one for these types of parties, usually."[break][break] Matteo returns the male's sheepish grin with an apologetic one of his own. "Unfortunately no," he says. taking his eyes off his partner momentarily to observe the surrounding pairs. He follows the beat of the music instinctively, stepping forward in time and matching Maddox's pace. "I suppose that is indeed the best course of action," he says, flashing a grin. He takes another step, mimicking the other dancers, though admittedly, Matteo's is a little too wide and too far out. He tries to correct it, moving his foot back just in time to avoid his toes being crushed by a dancing pair nearby.[break][break] "Whoops," he mutters before glancing back up. "So can I get a name from my dance partner?" he asks, a sparkle of mischief in his eyes.
Post by artemi zakharchenko on May 17, 2017 19:24:10 GMT
[nospaces]
It fortunately sounded as though he'd stumbled across someone with a shred of common sense. Artemi gave a light sigh, one that breathed a clear relief, at the prospect that his next dancing partner wasn't about to quite literally whisk him right off his feet. The dancers had an overwhelming energy about them, one that Artemi didn't even desire to keep up with. He was a more sedate creature, more content with watching from the sidelines, rather than being an active participant in this nonesense.[break][break]
On opening his eyes though, he was a little taken aback by the... ambiguity of this new person, so to speak. Their voice, or at least what he could hear of it over the din of the lively brass music, had a certain dulcet quality to it, none of the coarser timbre found in men but then... what he saw with his eyes contradicted it almost. The person was pretty, in a slightly effeminate way, with gentle features, but... then the suit threw him off as well. The stranger's hair, much shorter than his own, but still of some length, wasn't a defining trait given that his own swept clear past his waist. It was a little puzzling, but another relieving distraction.[break][break]
"Huh," Artemi only offered in coherent response once his gaze had finished his light inspection, but said no more than that. In the end, it mattered little. Physically pleasing, this arrangement wasn't unfortunate. He straightened up, trying to recover from his small slip of composure, and tried to quash his flagging confidence by offering his hand with a measure of boldness to the curious individual. A boldness that he found in the wine he'd previously imbibed.[break][break]
"I wonder if we'd draw attention if we swang... swung? Swung our way to the edge of this dance," he suggested, his eyes drifting from the petite figure to the corner of the ball floor where the bar was. While there wasn't a slur softening his words quite yet, there was a prominent northern lilt to his voice, a distinct purr. "I don't want to come off as rude to our hosts but I'm not quite sure I can keep up to this tempo." An almost smile graced his lips. "Although I wouldn't want to miss a dance with such a fine... er...." Oh. [break][break]
[attr="class","gearcore"]Zephyr didn't know exactly what her problem was, but his new dance partner was obviously not happy with her current situation. It was difficult to tell whether her mood stemmed from that fact that she was here, stuck dancing with him, or bothered by some other reason to which Zeph didn't have context. As far as first impressions went: she looked grumpy, pretty, and timid. In that order. She was everything that Zephyr wasn't, and, had he known she was with the fair-weather Knights, he likely would have laughed at their absurd luck of being tossed together with their extreme opposite.
"Doesn't look like you're enjoyin' it too much," he replied, not one to put on airs for the sake of pleasantries. "Y'know, if someone's givin' you a hard time, now'd be the ideal moment t' swing over an' trip 'em. Accidentally, f'course." Zeph winked as the music burst with a peak of energetic fervor. Not thinking much of her emotional state, he spun her outwards and swiftly pulled her back in before continuing. "Or I could spin ya over to the rich, handsome folks over there. I won't take it personal."
Speaking of handsome, Spock was garnering far too much enjoyment from the lengths which this cute spectacled human was going to accommodate her. He bowed and everything! What a gentleman. Despite her usual willingness to embody the animal which she resembled, Spock danced with a distinctively human precision. Had she been born with a human body, she would have turned heads on the dance floor, but alas she had to work with the body she possessed. For the most part, this meant easily flipping herself over Tony's arms and (literally) swinging around him thanks to her relatively light weight, while trying her hardest to not ogle the shiny, grabbable pocket watches and fancy baubles dangling at just her height. Oh, but they were just so much chaos and commotion between the loud music and bumping bodies, and so much wealth that wouldn't be missed. Surely no one would notice...
Tony's question broke the gaze she didn't realize she was holding. After a silent moment of uncharacteristic awkwardness, she chittered some meaningless sounds and held up two fingers, as if to say "the second option." Although just as capable of speech as anyone else's familiar, Spock didn't enjoy it much. Thankfully, Zephyr had a tendency to talk enough for the both of them.
@anthonyskies ashanti verna apologies /o/ for \o\ the /o/ delay pls accept my apology in the form of a dancing, vaguely kleptomaniac monkey
Post by claire fermont on May 18, 2017 5:33:17 GMT
[attr="class","ig"]
[attr="class","ninety"]
[attr="class","joker"]
[attr="class","game"]
someone dance with this awkward angry gal thank
[attr="class","kikan"]
“
For this day, Claire sat with Vani and had a heart to heart talk. The boar wasn't too happy about the request, and up until now he is nagging in the back of Claire's mind. Claire chides him, reassures him she's all right, and that she'll call him if trouble starts.
She hopes not. The visit of the Gales are annual, and almost repetitive, she'd say. It is very easy to break into these kind of events, and so the Helios Knights had taken extra precaution. Part of that precaution is Claire, made to wear a tight-fitting, cleavage-revealing white dress, on high heels, nonetheless. Her face is painted in varying shades of blue, with her lips cherry red. She lurks in the shadows in a forced-feminine stance, sipping a glass of wine. Today she is on disguise as a guest, watching every participant in the dance with a sharp eye. She does not want any infiltration in this event.
What she does not anticipate is the sudden announcement. She is not informed of this--this being dragged in the center and being forced to dance. Since only the Helios Knights know of her predicament, she can't make the coven as an excuse. She grits her teeth as she is perpetually placed beside the person.
Everything underneath the chandeliers of this place is alien to Claire. At least in the shadows she was blanketed in dark comfort. Now? She doesn't know how to dance. She doesn't know the manners. She doesn't know how to hold someone's hand and sway with them in the light. Claire refuses to look at the said person she is currently dancing with. Her frustration is evident in her flushed face and awkward steps.
Vani, help, Claire calls desperately.
This time, Vani only answers with an equally frustrated huff. Claire groans.
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on May 18, 2017 9:37:25 GMT
and i won't feel a thing
reality is a lovely place, but i wouldn’t want to live there
why is he here?
kasimir presses his back further against the reassuring firmness of the wall, draping inky shadows over himself like the shroud of night in an attempt to be less visible, less noticeable, all too aware of the gleaming fire of his hair. the murmured conversations of those around him wash over him, layering on top of each other like rippling waves until they cumulate into an amalgamation of pure noise, white as sea foam and just as frothy in his ears. fabrics of all colours, satin and silk and gold dripping from delicate wrists, a woman whirls past with skirts of crimson and the scent of jasmine swirling in her wake.
this is not his world.
this is high class, extravagant, for aristocrats and their pretty pretty attire, for witches with power in their veins and society’s approval at their backs; kasimir belongs in the grime of darkened alleyways with despair etched in every cobblestone, he belongs in the world of cold eyes and cruel smiles, blood dripping from his hands and he melts into the shadows as one of their own, a nameless, meaningless phantom whose only purpose is to kill according to his master’s will. he does not belong here in the light, in the company of good people with music and laughter shading their air gold.
so why is he here?
he does not know the answer (or perhaps he does, but the answer is something he dares not confront, dares not delve into for fear of what he might learn); just as he has made his mind to ignore what lapse of judgement had brought him here and leave, someone grabs him by the wrist and drags him onto the dance floor, pulling him into the crush of people and colours and music.
’let me go,’ he wants to say, but the noise is too loud and the words stick in his throat. there are people on every side, trapping him, pushing against him, suffocating him and he cannot breathe but he cannot leave either.
