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.
Larka could feel the shock display perfectly obvious on her face as Rowan admitted to being the eldest. Perhaps it was because in her village the elder siblings were often mini-moms or mini-dads, they were rather boisterous and demanding, always being good leaders among their siblings. Rowan did not match that description, he was gentle, soft spoken, and much too shy. Although, he was kind and helpful, there were traits in him that Larka associated to that of an older sibling. She tilted her head a bit, resting her pale cheek on her hand, eyes settled on him, letting him know that she was listening. Not that he said much. Larka wasn't sure if it was because the subject didn't suit him, but a part of her, woman's intuition most likely, suggested that if he was comfortable with speaking of his family he'd say more.
"I wouldn't have guessed," She admitted rather sheepishly, "But now, I'm not surprised. It's starting to make sense with how you're treating me. Your sister must adore you. I'm also the oldest, but of six, so five little pains in the neck to watch over and dote on," Larka said easily, a soft smile appearing once again. She missed home, she really did, and talking about it didn't make her feel better. She felt better when she shoved them under a hole in the floor and placed a rug on top, out of sight and out of mind so she could properly focus. Although there were nights they'd rise to the front of her mind, give her nostalgic dreams so when she woke up she'd be in a doleful mood. "Bleddyn, Conan, Ivaylo, Velvel and Ylva." Their names had to be as unusual as hers, however to her they were as normal as the sun being in the sky. The Ulrika's all gave their offspring names after some creature representing wolves, their last name represented 'wolf power'. Except as far as Larka knew her name meant nothing in anything particular. It often had her wondering why she received such a name.
"Bleddyn is eighteen now, Conan and Ivaylo are twins, they're sixteen. Velvel twelve, and Ylva is five." Their orders came then, the waiter placing each beverage and croissant to the rightful guest before heading off. Taking her cup, Larka exhaled the flavorful scent before grabbing the sugar and creamer. Dumping in all the sugar they gave her, she stirred it well with a small spoon, not letting up on the conversation. "They're all witches too, well, at least the first three. But they're not interested in magic, just in farming and such." Larka made a slight face, saying it out loud was just a dull pain that always lodged itself deep inside her chest. Pouring in almost all of the creamer now, she stirred it before taking a small sip. Her violet eyes brightened tremendously, and she took another sip, holding back a small moan of delight. "Oh, wow, what is this little cup of heaven?" She mumbled, partially thinking aloud as she took yet another sip.
Post by Rowan Ashworth on May 25, 2017 16:17:47 GMT
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Larka's response is one that shows surprise, but Rowan was expecting it. He didn't play a very big role as the eldest and a brother. Most everything was taken care of by his family and the servants, and his grandmother certainly didn't want her granddaughter to associate too much with the likes of him. Despite their being half-siblings. He loves his sister, he really does, but she was brought up in a world completely different from him, and frankly, he finds it one where he can't ever tread. [break][break] His sister is also the extremely independent, go-to kind of gal. If anything, she'd be the one protecting him if a fight ever ensued. A punch or a kick, or a malevolent trap - she'd do them all, if only for some quick revenge and to teach respect.[break][break] Larka's siblings had unusual names, but they all sounded quite pretty. He didn't know any of their meanings, but they were beautiful names nonetheless. "That's quite an age gap," he remarks. His sister is about nineteen now, meaning a three year gap between them.[break][break] He can't quite imagine what it's like to love something so passionately other than magic that you'd leave it aside. Magic's been such an integral and core part of his life, and he wonders just what would happen if he refused to use it. Would there be consequences? Perhaps he'd be kicked out of the house. After all, you couldn't just lose a skill.[break][break] "I suppose you have other plans, then?" He asks, stirring his drink with a spoon. He takes a bite of the almond croissant, realizing a little late that it's a bit of a messy dish to eat, and quickly rubbing away whatever crumbs remain on his cheek. [break][break] His question piques his own curiosity - just what does he want for the future? He's not sure. All he's done is drift...
She took small sips from her coffee, trying to savor it. Truly, if she was big on coffee, she wouldn’t have ‘ruined’ it with creamer and sugar, but she couldn’t help herself. Sweet things were one of her favorites, a pinch above anything that was salty. She wasn’t picky when it came to food, the only thing turning her off from devouring a meal would be the grease as the texture never sat right with her and often had her feeling sick.
“I suppose, but my mom had me at fifteen, so it’s not too strange out where I’m from,” Larka said softly, a light flush coming up on her cheeks. It was such a low-class thing to do, having so many children and with such large age gaps. Since being in Sundial she could see how the city had such a different sort of culture compared to those in the country. Especially when you owned quite a bit of land, more children meant more free labor. She figured others would even find it weird that she had lived with her parents her entire life up until this point of moving to Sundial, twenty-two years of staying in her backwater village, knowing and wanting something more.
“Of course,” Larka said, confidence coming back into her being, reaching into her rucksack and pulling out her witch’s license, minute pride beaming in her violet eyes. “I’m planning going all the way with magic, before you know it, I’ll be a high priestess in no time! Maybe even start my own coven, you know, just do something more instead of tilling soil and growing wheat. Or feeding chickens. Anything would be better than taking care of smelly animals and constantly having dirt under my nails.” She said, quickly putting her license back into her rucksack, not wanting to lose it all. She had sewn in a special, secret compartment that would go unnoticed, the fabric slightly different in case it rained so the license would be protected. “I’m just a fledgling now, but I assure you, I am moving up and fast. I think.” She made a slight face, thinking back on her few accomplishments before nodding her head. She was a little girl with big dreams. “Yes, I am most definitely going at a suitable pace.” Larka concluded. Feeling that she had talked enough, she lifted the croissant, peering at it with curiosity and hunger, taking a small, delicate bite, trying to appear as ladylike as she could muster. Delicious. She wanted to shove the whole thing into her mouth.
“You’re a witch too, right?” She asked Rowan after swallowing her small bite. If she got him talking then she could eat this sinful croissant and listen, a win-win situation. “Are you in a coven yet; what's your rank? Got any big plans for your future?” After her little parade of questions, Larka took another bite of the croissant. So. Good.
bloop bloop ba doop, doo doo doo do di doo doo doo doo di doo doo doo
Post by Rowan Ashworth on May 29, 2017 21:37:22 GMT
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Rowan is slightly shocked, hearing that Larka's mother is only a mere fifteen years older than herself. He supposes that it truly is quite a different lifestyle in the countryside. His mother had been in her twenties when she'd given birth to Rowan, and in her mid-twenties when she had his sister.[break][break] Fifteen seemed so very young. A whole seven years younger than himself - and what of the father? How on earth had such a couple been so responsible at such a young age? When he was fifteen, he was still being scolded for lacking manners and generally being a disgrace. If anything, he still receives the same treatment.[break][break] He's distracted from those depressing thoughts with Larka's excited tone as she recounts her dreams and goals. There's an edge to her voice that speaks of confidence, and his soft grin is tugged upwards as he listens. She has big dreams, and it sounds like a wonderful thing, if ever accomplished.[break][break] "That's very ambitious," he notes with a nod. "But it sounds like a great goal." Larka slips her license back in her bag before she notes that she's a fledgling. Rowan blinks - he himself only recently became an apprentice, but he's still surprised. Such big dreams, and only a flegling - sure, it takes patience and time, but he wonders just how quickly she's working towards her goal. He doesn't want to be a pessimist, but she is very, very far away from her dream indeed.[break][break] He nibbles at his croissant. Rowan has always been a slow eater, and he always says that he's savoring his food, not drinking it. His sister, on the other hand, begs to differ that she can both scarf it down and taste it at the same time.[break][break] "Well that's good to hear," he says, though there's still a slight tinge of dubiousness in his gaze. "Keep working hard and you'll reach the top in no time." He takes a sip of his drink and remarks he's nearly done with it. Larka seems to be finishing off her food at a similar pace. He supposes once they're done, they should head back to the library and he can help her out, as well as complete his own studies.[break][break] "Yes, I'm a witch. I'm indeed in a coven - I just became an apprentice." He doesn't want to brag, but he can't hide that slight bit of pride that creeps into his voice. As much as he hates his coven - Leviathan - he still feels happy that he's been recognized enough to gain a rank, even if it's only to apprentice. But he has no such ambitions of becoming a leader, and he says so. "I only plan to finish university for now," he says truthfully. "That, and to live a life in peace."[break][break] He hopes to break free of his family, too. But he's not sure he ever can.
