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.
The extravagant decor of the Helios Knight Hall was impressive every time Valencia walked through it. She faintly remembered being a wide-eyed child following at a veteran's heels as she was introduced to the place where she'd call home. From that day onward, she walked these halls and sought to memorize every inch of them. Although she wasn't one to spend money frivolously and lived in a modest yet cozy home, one could appreciate the beauty in everything and anything. However she hadn't come to the hall simply for a trip down memory lane.
In the crook of her arm was a parcel wrapped tight and secured with the utmost care. A few children toys were inside of it, one which had been left in her care after a meeting with a rather excitable little girl. The little girl had taken to Arion with ease and Valencia scoffed at the amount of preening the horse had done in preparation for his meeting. He never liked to be caught off guard and always wanted to look his best in case he'd have an admirer.
Nonetheless, she wanted to return the toy as quickly as possible. It wouldn't bode well for her to keep something like this around. If her mother and father caught wind of a children's toy, they would've begun asking about children and when she was going to be married off. And that was not happening for a very long time if she could help it. She looked around as she switched the parcel from one arm to the other only to catch sight of the person whom she was trying to find.
[attr="class","azotar"][googlefont="Iceland:400"]Die reinste Freude ist die Schadenfreude
[attr="class","salvatore"]To say she was hiding from someone or something would not be inaccurate at all. Aside from her home, the coven's Hall was the best place to go if she wanted to remain unseen. More so for Merrill's sake than her own. Despite what her familiar thought, Yaela liked to think she was good at damage control and taking care of herself. Hadn't she managed so on her own for these past few eight years? 'Barely,' a nagging voice in the back of her mind said. Slightly agitated from a mixture of cabin fever, self-imposed isolation, and the strain of wearing a mask, Yae resorted to her main source of release.
Her back against the wall (both literally and figuratively), the woman wove her slender fingers through her painstakingly brushed hair. It only took a few motions before her finger snagged against a forming curl. A comb she kept on hand came out for the task, black and shaped like a snoozing cat. It was clearly a gift from her favorite and only child, one she used with pride.
She relaxed bit by bit with each stroke of the comb, mind wandering between current mishaps and more peaceful times. Namely, a childhood where she was doted on and cared for by tender hands. Her father was the ginger; mother had a head of chestnut and heavy curls, and was always fawning over Yaela's soft and silky locks. There was something nice about having your hair and scalp touched.
The spell was broken by a voice calling her name. Fuchs sounded dangerously close to another word when improperly pronounced, and most seemed content to fake a swear. Her childhood was all hair related pranks and name calling, and life as an adult was not any better. It was exhausting, and though she'd mostly gotten over it, was enough to make her flinch when she wasn't expecting it.
She half expected to be greeted by the hateful eyes of a scorned wife. And in Yaela's experience, such confrontations resulted in hair pulling -- or attempts. Instead, she was relieved to see a fellow redhead and Knight, though she couldn't fathom what they'd want with her. The younger woman looked fresh as a peach and not a day over twenty-two. "That's my name, but don't yell it out." She lowered the comb, lips curving up into an easy smile.
It was then that she noticed the package in the other woman's arms. Her first assumption was that the younger was here as some sort of errand boy. The second was far less innocuous; she liked them young, too. "Up to you really, but please. Call me Yaela. Rolls off the tongue so much better," she said, gesturing with light exasperation. "Anyway, what can I do you for?" Were this in the privacy and comfort of her home, she'd offer the usual: coffee, tea, me.
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Valencia had many memories of her mother and most of them weren't very kind. However, she did appreciate that the other woman was happy enough to bring her child to her workplace. The little girl was one of the most lively children that Valencia ever had the pleasure of meeting. In fact, their first meeting was by pure accident because the girl mistook her for her mother. Looking at Yaela Fuchs now, Valencia understood why from behind they'd look similar. It was a little odd to find someone else with red hair that wasn't a part of her family. However, in Sundial City, and possibly other parts of the world it wasn't uncommon for someone's hair color to deviate from the usual black or brown.
At Yaela's behest, Valencia made a mental note to call the other woman by her first name. Mannerisms and teachings reminded her that she had to respect her elders however she was almost certain that Yaela wouldn't take kindly to being called an elder. Valencia held the package in her hands and gave it a quick look over to make sure that everything was in place. It wouldn't do to give it to someone else when it wasn't in the proper condition after all.
"My name is Valencia Godfrey," she said.
Once she was satisfied, she held the package out to Yaela.
"I met your daughter a few days ago and she left one of her toys with me," she explained. "I wanted to return it with a few others."
Although Valencia wasn't quite sure what a child would want to play with. When she was a child, her mother didn't reward her with toys but gave her outings or lighter training sessions. Either didn't seem suitable for a little girl with a less demanding upbringing.
[attr="class","azotar"][googlefont="Iceland:400"]Die reinste Freude ist die Schadenfreude
[attr="class","salvatore"]"I'm sorry, did you say Godfrey? The corner of Yaela's mouth twitched. That was a name she, like many others, were well aware of. So you could scratch errand boy off the list, and possibly any other thoughts she might have had. "What did I do this time" was now her predominant thought. Second came the short-lived speculation of the package's contents. "Oh. Oh."
Just Merrill's toy. She didn't need to open it to know the absurd and slightly ratty hedgehog plush was within. The girl had sewn a replacement arm to the toy's torso in an attempt to "heal" it, and insisted on leaving it in Yaela's care. Sometimes she'd find it tucked into her bag, cradled in her arms. Or Merrill would forgo subtly altogether and just stuff it in her arms.
So when the girl came home without it, Yaela assumed she lost it somewhere but made no mention of it, either. Though that did explain some things, like the "pretty lady" with the magnificent black stallion. "--She looked like she needed hugs so I left Razzamuffin..." It was worrying that her daughter would mistake a stranger for her, especially knowing how affectionate and eager the girl was. Puberty was going to ruin her.
"Haha...you really didn't have to, but thank you." No really, she didn't. Yaela was personally debating on tossing the plush into the river and giving Merrill the other toys. She could always say she lost it on the way home. "Oh believe me when I say she will," she said with a sigh of resignation. "I had these little dolls I was never allowed to touch, so I made sure Merrill had plenty of stimulation when she was younger." That might have backfired, and having a surplus of playthings couldn't make up for the lack of a father figure.
She couldn't resist a little hair flip. One of the downsides to having long hair was how easy it was to get in the way, and even if her hands weren't full she lacked a hair tie. "Can I ask ya a question, Val? Do you mind if I call you Val?" And, without waiting for a yes or no, "Do you like kids, Val?"
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Valencia couldn't say that she was impressed by the state in which the doll had been left. It was ragged and seemed to have seen better days. However, the way that the little girl held onto it could only show that it was something precious to her. Arion refrained from laughing at her while she set to finding toys for the child. It must've been humorous to him in some ways as she fretted over whether buying a set of clothes to go with the dolls and other toys that would go inside of the box. Valencia didn't have the charm or the eye of a mother but she did have the incessant need to buy things that were suitable enough.
It warmed her heart to know that Yaela took enough care to realize that her daughter would need some sort of stimulation when she was young. Valencia didn't have toys but she did have her mother's guiding hand, no matter how painful it might have been. Yaela's daughter, Merill, was lucky indeed. Thouh the warmth in her heart slowly receded as the older woman regarded her by a nickname that she didn't use very often. Her eyebrow quirked at the question and although a part of her wanted to say that she did mind the nickname, she was blatantly reminded of her mother's chiding to respect her elders.
"I like certain children," she said. "Every child is different therefore I have to gauge their personalities to discern whether or not I can tolerate their presence."
Her eyebrow quirked again as she looked to the box and then to Yaela.
"If this is about your daughter, I did enjoy her presence and my familiar did as well."
[attr="class","azotar"][googlefont="Iceland:400"]Die reinste Freude ist die Schadenfreude
[attr="class","salvatore"]If Yaela noticed Val(lencia)'s discomfort, she showed no sign of it. Her smile only seemed to grow. As much as she loved her daughter, it was always a relief to stop and have a chat with another adult. There were several perks for that, really, but she was considerate enough to not bring anyone home when Merrill was around. Or not at all, in most cases. "Hi, I'm a single mother" was a horrible pickup line. People either ran from you or got arrogant and wanted to intervene. And then there were the creepy MILF hunters...Well, that one guy was nice --
Until he called her ma'am.
"That is fair. I'm honestly not big on kids, myself." That wasn't exactly her reason for not having more than one child. Would've been easier for Merrill to have a little brother or sister, but. "Merrill's the one exception to the rule." If someone else's kid randomly came up to her, she'd be more likely to ignore them unless they needed help. Funny how so many people liked to think of her as "motherly." Having a child did not make her a good mother or expert.
"Good, I'm glad. She's had nothing but good things to say about you two." Few of which she could remember right now. Well. Aside from the obvious. "She was pretty and had red hair." Yaela took that as a compliment. "If she wasn't busy playing right now --" Which could be anywhere but most likely within or near the hall, "I'd bring her out so that she can properly receive these." Merrill would appreciate them either way, really.
She shifted the package so that it was resting in one arm. "Though it's a little awkward to only talk about my child. We're of the same coven, no?" It occurred to her that Val might not have time to engage in prolonged chit chat. "And simply gorgeous, if I do say so myself." She moved closer to Val, elbow coming up to playfully the nudge the other woman's arm. "I love your hair, by the way. It's so wavy." She was itching to touch it, to groom and run it through her fingers. But she rarely appreciated other people touching her hair without consent.
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Valencia wasn't used to such familiarity with another person aside from those she'd grown with during her childhood. However, they even knew that it was unwise to touch her without some sort of acknowledgement or acceptance that it was going to happen. She'd have to say that Miss Fuchs, or Yaela, as she preferred to be called was rather bold. Arion was trying to hold back his laughter and she made a mental note to obstruct any apples that were going to come his way in the next week or so. Time without physical contact made Valencia stiff even though she didn't want to be but also rather aware of when someone else was near her.
Therefore despite her best attempts to remain casual and cordial towards her fellow witch, she was caught off guard. The quick nudge and closeness to her side brought her attention to Yaela's face and the close proximity in which they were standing. She tried to keep her mind on the fact that the other woman's daughter was somewhere in their vicinity. In truth, she didn't want to ruin the girl's perception or give her false ideas that there was something going on between herself and her mother. It was already bad enough that she was mistaken for the other woman, so who knew what else a child's mind could concoct when given the wrong stimuli?
Nonetheless, the compliment to her hair caught Valencia's attention and a little smile formed. It was there and then gone but she felt the remnants of her features softening to accommodate an expression other than neutrality. She looked to Yaela's hair, noticing that although their hair shared the same base color, the hues were different along with the texture.
"You seem to take care and pride in your hair," she said. "Your daughter spoke fondly of it. She said that you loved your hair more than anything else."
However, the way that Yaela was eyeing her own hair made Valencia a little curious to how much the witch took pride in her appearance or the appearance of others.
"You were using a comb before I interrupted you," she continued. "Do you have others that are just like it?"
She tilted her head to the side and kept an eye on her companion. Something told her that if she didn't, she'd lose a lot more than a bit of personal space.
[attr="class","azotar"][googlefont="Iceland:400"]Die reinste Freude ist die Schadenfreude
[attr="class","salvatore"]Oh look. Were her eyes deceiving her? Was that a little smile? Amused and smiling like a fox, Yaela stopped herself before she could further invade the younger woman's personal space. That annoying sensation was back, tickling her mind with a dark aura. How could she possibly forget about her dour-minded familiar? The familiar didn't have to speak for her to know how much he disapproved, but it wasn't like she was flirting or anything.
She was merely having a friendly conversation with a fellow witch and redhead. Was that so wrong?
A single word was pushed to the forefront of her mind. "Yes." Rude. Yaela briefly leaned more into Valencia, purely out of spite. Her hair spilled over her shoulder, mingling with Val's. The effect was sadly over before it had time to begin; she wasn't bold enough to cozy up with a stranger in broad daylight. She was also trying not to draw too much attention to herself.
The burst of pride she felt at the mention of her hair had her standing tall, free hand raking through strands of crimson. Usually, some poor unfortunate fool would walk by just in time to get slapped in the face by her mane of hair. "You could say it's like a second child to me." She loathed comparisons between her hair and child, but if she had to choose...Merrill.
Hair grows back; trust and children were irreplaceable.
Yaela took a moment to replace a bitter smile with a more pleasant one. It was hard to remain upset once pleasant thoughts were implanted in her mind. "Like this one? Not exactly. Merrill gave me this, but I do carry a..." She could feel her scalp prickling from the sheer amount of judgment emanating from her familiar. "I carry around a kit of sorts...several combs, a brush, a set of scissors..." Meino and a few others thought it odd, but Yaela could not imagine leaving the house ill prepared. There was a lot of time and effort to achieve this look.
"Why? Would you like to bother one, or...hm?" What was that look for? She certainly wasn't planning on stealing any of Val's hair. "If you'd prefer, I could comb it for you?" Feeling coy with a dash of mischief, Yaela flashed a smile and a wink at Valencia. "Don't worry, I'm good with my hands. Take that as you will."
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Valencia wasn't sure on the nature of this conversation or where it could've been going. She'd had potential suitors in the past and could feel when someone was flirting with her. However, this was an entirely different game considering that the person before her was a colleague and an older woman at that. If she was any younger, the color may have rushed to her cheeks and she would've been left speechless only to excuse herself and make her way elsewhere. But she was an adult and her company was an adult as well with a young impressionable child somewhere in their midst.
With that thought in mind, Valencia gave a cursory glance to the emptied hall around them as if expecting an excitable little girl to pop up any moment. She was mildly thankful that the conversation centered around hair once again. Partly because she wasn't sure where to take it and in truth, she was a little taken aback at her forwardness. Her suspicions on how much pride Yaela put into her appearance was confirmed at the mention of a kit which she kept on hand. It was a little surprising and a tad bit interesting to know.
But the cat-like comb which she used in her hair seemed to be taken care of and precious. A gift from child to mother, a thought that only served to solidify the shaky image of Yaela that formed in Valencia's mind.
However, that image only shattered once again as the conversation veered off into one of dual meaning. Valencia blinke and looked at her with a quirked brow as Yaela winked and smiled at her. Good with her hands?
That was interesting.
Valencia.
Arion's chiding tone and warning brought her back to reality. It wouldn't do her any good to dwell on the nature of her words for too long.
"I'm sure you are," Valencia replied. "However, I prefer to do things myself. I am very thorough in my handiwork."
A little smile settled on her lips as she tilted her head ever so slightly.
[attr="class","azotar"][googlefont="Iceland:400"]Die reinste Freude ist die Schadenfreude
[attr="class","salvatore"]"However, I prefer to do things myself. I am very thorough in my handiwork."
So nice, you wish for it to be said twice -- which Yaela proceeded to do in her mind. The boldness of Val's statement had caught her off guard, and had she been a spectator her hand would be over her mouth. Outwardly, her composure remained unchanged. Inwardly, on the other hand...
Inner Yaela inhaled, closed her eyes, and basked in the cool, angelic hands cupping her face. She was 100% here for this. Or would be, if not for the other presence refusing to leave her emotions alone. She could feel Meino trying to rein her back in, feel the roughness of his horns boring into her back, but neither feared nor worried about reprimand. 'For once in your life, please think about common decency--'
'Fuck decency!' When had she ever cared for morals or done as society expected from a woman of her standing? She saw no harm in doing what she wanted, as long as no one got hurt. Well. No one who did not deserve it. Helios Knight or not, freedom was her desire and goal.
And opportunity was knocking.
"Meino, go make tracks." The pressure on her back vanished immediately, though not without some (barely acknowledged) complaints.
Like that, anything holding her back was gone. Nothing short of Merrill running in would get in her way -- and even then, children could be easily distracted.
"Oh, is that so?" She'd gone from a smile to a smirk, less mischief and more with the air of a lioness stalking its prey. "I'm not doubting you, but..." Without breaking eye contact, Yaela closed the gap between them. With her side snugly placed against Val's, and the way her mouth was positioned near the younger woman's ear, there was little left to the imagination. A curtain of hair could only hide so much. Yaela lowered her voice an octave. "There's no shame in letting someone else touch you." That could go either way; there were people she trusted to trim her edges. But they'd long moved on from talking hair.
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Valencia wasn't one to mince words or skit around the issue at hand. However, she couldn't say that this game of cat and mouse wasn't a little fun if not a bit challenging. She looked to Yaela as the distance between them lessened and quirked a brow. There was a duality to her words which reminded Valencia of a game of mix and match. She had to be careful because if she plucked the wrong card, it could mean that she'd lose. And she didn't like losing and failure at that. Looking to her companion and hearing the words whispered close to her ear, a little smirk found its way to her face.
Don't even think about it.
Arion's voice echoed in her mind and she knew that even if the thought crossed her mind, it wouldn't go anywhere. Yaela was attractive and there was no one who could sway her from that idea but there were other pressing matters to tend to. But she had to admit that having someone so close to her was equally nerve-wracking, irritating, and enticing. Nonetheless, she turned her head so that they were staring eye to eye and allowed the smirk to be shown.
"There is no shame," she repeated. "In laying everything bare with no lies or duality to be seen."
Raising one of her hands, her fingertips brushed against Yaela's skin with a feathery touch.
"However, I'm not an open book, I'm afraid."
She allowed her gaze to dip lower before meeting Yaela's eyes again. A coy smile playing on her lips as she raised her shoulders.
"Though, I'm sure there are many things I could call you."
Her eyebrow quirked as her finger trailed lower, a soft hum following.
"But your surname isn't what you must have in mind."
And like that, the spell was broken as Valencia gave the box a quick tap to bring them back to reality.
"Give my regards to your daughter, Miss Yaela."
A curt nod of the head followed as Valencia removed herself from the witch's side and made her way down the hall. She had a date with a few tomes and a cup of tea, slightly happier with this new change of pace.
[attr="class","azotar"][googlefont="Iceland:400"]Die reinste Freude ist die Schadenfreude
[attr="class","salvatore"]It was now Yaela's turn to quirk a brow. A poet, too? What couldn't Valentia do? Steal her heart, perhaps. After the failure of her marriage and the abuse she experienced prior, it grew harder to trust people. If it were just herself, she might not be single now. But Merrill...even now, she only aimed to kill some time with a presumed virgin.
Val's words, demeanor, touch...were giving Yaela a contradictory view. Her eyes lit up at faint weight of fingers tracing her cheek. Being fed was never her style; she wanted to hunt, and could see she was getting exactly what she wanted. How long it took someone to cave in to their desires could say a lot about a person.
Amused but entranced, Yaela allowed the roaming hand to slide. "And that would be~?" She liked being called her name. Even a soft "Yae" would suffice, but there were others-- "Hm?" The sudden lack of touch had her reeling, posture briefly stiffening before relaxing. She was more bemused than disappointed at this turn of events.
"Another time, Valencia," she softly called out to the younger's retreating back. With the crisis averted, her familiar felt comfortable speaking up. Not immediately, but before the soft pitter patter of feet drew close enough to overhear.
"She got away. How unfortunate." His flat tone came equipped with stings.
Yaela shrugged. "I'm not sad or disappointed. Just wishful." Unlike what he thought, her meeting with Valencia was far from disastrous. It just needed to be stoked, like any fire. "I'll earn her trust, you'll see." The antelope only snorted in disbelief.
His mistress's track record was far from desirable thus far. He could only watch in silence as her child ran up and hugged her from behind. Anything that could make Merrill happy was okay in his book, though he had some reservations about the whole thing.
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To say she was hiding from someone or something would not be inaccurate at all. Aside from her home, the coven's Hall was the best place to go if she wanted to remain unseen. More so for Merrill's sake than her own. Despite what her familiar thought, Yaela liked to think she was good at damage control and taking care of herself. Hadn't she managed so on her own for these past few eight years? 'Barely,' a nagging voice in the back of her mind said. Slightly agitated from a mixture of cabin fever, self-imposed isolation, and the strain of wearing a mask, Yae resorted to her main source of release.
"I'm sorry, did you say Godfrey? The corner of Yaela's mouth twitched. That was a name she, like many others, were well aware of. So you could scratch errand boy off the list, and possibly any other thoughts she might have had. "What did I do this time" was now her predominant thought. Second came the short-lived speculation of the package's contents. "Oh. Oh."
If Yaela noticed Val(lencia)'s discomfort, she showed no sign of it. Her smile only seemed to grow. As much as she loved her daughter, it was always a relief to stop and have a chat with another adult. There were several perks for that, really, but she was considerate enough to not bring anyone home when Merrill was around. Or not at all, in most cases. "Hi, I'm a single mother" was a horrible pickup line. People either ran from you or got arrogant and wanted to intervene. And then there were the creepy MILF hunters...Well, that one guy was nice -- 
Oh look. Were her eyes deceiving her? Was that a little smile? Amused and smiling like a fox, Yaela stopped herself before she could further invade the younger woman's personal space. That annoying sensation was back, tickling her mind with a dark aura. How could she possibly forget about her dour-minded familiar? The familiar didn't have to speak for her to know how much he disapproved, but it wasn't like she was flirting or anything. 
