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.
A job was a job, no matter how bad or dirty. It seemed simple enough: digging some holes for some old man, probably putting dirt back into the holes. The only issue was that, well, Larka was doing it. She was a bookworm, and while she held some sort of athleticism that came from wrangling four younger hyperactive siblings, since being in Sundial she had not been as active as before. Not to mention, she wasn’t found of physical exertion that took place outside. Her pale skin was fragile, and she feared getting sunburned. She had done everything one could for protecting their skin: a black turtle neck sweater and pants, everything covered up albeit her hands and face. She only had so much sunscreen, could only afford so much. She had to be frugal with something of this caliber, after all, not any sunscreen would do. Her face and hands were lathered in sunscreen, and gave her pale skin a bit of a sheen, although it wasn’t too awful.
Although, no mission would be complete without a plethora of snacks, and, if she was going to exert any sort of energy, she would need proper nutrition. Larka figured this wouldn’t be something that paid well, it was fledging status after all, and many had passed on it. She couldn’t afford to be picky, she only had so much money saved up, she needed to keep her savings at a respectable level because work was always iffy. Often times there would be no available job for her to get, either snatched by someone else or at a level above her. Either way, she had to be frugal with what she bought for snacks, and while she had a major sweet tooth, she loved salty tidbits as well. Crackers of all sorts, pretzels and a pouch of luxurious salted batch of mix nuts were her snacks for the day, and she hoped her hands wouldn’t be so dirty that she wouldn’t be able to eat them.
Leaving her extremely tiny apartment, Larka set off to the location. Just by the address she knew it belonged to a wealthy individual, and she was a bit excited to see the grandeur of it. While not poor, yet not exactly able to be deemed middle class either, Larka had never known much past the cottages everyone seemed to live in her little village. Every house was built the same, had the same issues during summer of being too hot, leaks during the rainy season or too cold during winter. Yes, this manor would be far older than her home, and she would not be able to peer inside it, but it had a fountain. What on earth, why would anyone need a fountain? Only the truly rich and bored did such things to their homes, and Larka couldn’t wait to see it’s charm.
Never one to be late, she was a few minutes early, waiting outside the gates. It didn’t seem that the plumber had arrived yet, and so she eagerly looked over the manor. It’s age only showed through its style of architecture, however, everything was neat and tidy. A large and splendid garden a quarter of an acre was the front yard for this mansion. Paths that were a beautiful mosaic of stone led from the cast-iron gate to the front door, but it did go off in other places. It went through a patch of neatly trimmed rose hedges, to a shaded gondola that house a pristine white statue at it’s center and most importantly the path framed the magnificent fountain. From far away it looked picturesque, depicting images from all sorts of legends: two babes feeding from a feral yet maternal wolf, gladiators in mid battle, women and men playing flutes and harms, cherubs with small bows flying around and men gathered to discuss a map. The sculptures were the grandest work of art, Larka had yet to see and it took her breath away. She didn’t even notice that there was another in her vicinity, never fully being aware of her surroundings.
Manual labor? Not an issue. If Lars was to neglect his physical training all of his hard work for his body would go to waste. Despite being in an unknown environment, that was unacceptable. Thus, jobs like these were good. They lacked the risk he had been born into, but the process was no less satisfying if just for maintaining his physique. Thus, he accepted and made his way to the correct meeting point. Now, just like his unknown partner, he was likely to be lost himself however as time went on places were becoming familiar. It was a good comforting sign.
Nonetheless, by the time she got there he was already sitting on the brick encased fence and pushed himself off when she neared. What he saw was not exactly something he was expecting. In his head, a feminine voice seemed to laugh unconditionally. More and more strangeness with these people. She continued to laugh, a barely formed growl at the end of her statement. Lars had to agree with his familiar. She was dressed in ways that she shouldn't be in this warmth and heat.
His long silvery spotted tail curled further, soon wrapping around one of his legs and releasing after a brief amount of time. It state his confusion, if his ears wiggling didn't convey that enough already. Lars squinted, why wear such things at this time of year? Honestly, he dreaded and hated this heat because his fur was dense and that made things hot if not in the shade. "I won't bother asking about your garb."
Now, while Lars recognized that the home in question was lavishly done he saw it more as a nuisance and a waste of resources. He growled, finding the whole thing unnecessary. "Let's get to work."
Off in her own world, Larka hardly knew Lars was there. It wasn't because he blended into the scenery, just that she got ahead of herself at the glory of this place. Breathtaking. That was the world she was looking for. For really, this was a beautiful home, and she couldn't help herself at what the rooms could look like inside. She imagined grand paintings, furniture that had been passed down through generations, intricate wood word and the likes. She didn't stop to think that most of the rooms must have gone unused or that it was truly too big for any family to live... unless they were a family of thirty at least.
Larka, get your head out of your ass, we got company, Pancake.
Her face contorted into pure annoyance, violet eyes narrowing as a dark brow twitched, everything amplified by the crease between her eyes and deep frown. That was when she noticed the footsteps coming towards her and looked over in the direction, her face still an untimely mess. However, upon gazing at the man, her expression did a complete three-sixty as awe graced her features. Those. Ears. And that tail! It was a cat boy, something she had only seen in the bad part of town with those questionable comic books who's covers showcased unnaturally large hands and males decorating the cover in question positions. Especially since he was quite short, the sweet little virgin, why was there no seme to take him and show him love?
Enthralled by his tail, for some strange reason she didn't find it weird in the slightest. She may need to hold off on all those yaoi comics, how on earth could this be normal. What didn't go unnoticed however were his words. He didn't say much, but it had impact. That childlike wonderment left her eyes as she glanced down at her attire. Was something wrong in what she was wearing? Panic shot across her face as she fidgeted under the scrutinization, looking off to the side as she hugged herself. After a moment, she huffed, and stared straight into his eyes, her chin tilted upwards in defiance. As if he were one to talk, he had a freaking pair of cat ears and tail!
"So I guess I'm working with you then?" Ignoring his previous statements, she glanced over at the estate, noticing his growl. Oh, how... adorable. He really was just like a cat! Placing her delicate hands on her hips, she looked behind her, frowning. Did she stand out this much? Perhaps it was that she was clad in all black? Or was it because of the actual articles of clothing? She glanced back down at herself, pursing her lips together as her brows furrowed.
"Now, now Pancake, be nice." Without warning, Khor appeared right beside his witch, gold eyes looking up at Lars. As he was a jackal, his face was nowhere near as expressive as Larka's but the twitch of his ears and narrowing of his eyes told plenty that he was intrigued by such a predicament. It was at that moment that the plumber arrived, a cart of tools at his disposal that was carried with a single mule, greeting them both, he led both Larka and Lars inside the manor's front yard, mentioning at the white chalk on certain parts of the grass that he wanted them to dig at. He handed them both two shovels and told them that they should dig no more than three to five feet into the ground and find some sort of metal box that would most definitely be titled 'fountain'. Larka listened intently, and glanced at Lars.
"Just don't get in my way," She huffed, going off to start digging. He may not have known it then but she was already planning to compete with him and blow him away. She'll show him! Larka gritted her teeth, struggling to even shove the tool hard enough into the ground to get it to stick, and nearly fell backward as she tried using her foot to push the shovel head deeper into the earth. Looks like you need help there, Khor said, this time speaking their own connection. She scowled at him. Fine, she'd show her snarky familiar too that she could do this. She'd prove them all wrong.
A quick breeze of ear brushed past his hair, but a hint of a cry was within it as well. Schatten did not like that this woman creature was looking at her witch. There was fascination written all over her face and it was highly uncomfortable. Lars didn't believe that at any point of time it'd become any easier to get used to these gawking stares. It was still too fresh, too new, for him to witness such behavior without bewilderment on his end. Maybe if he knew that she didn't find it weird he'd be a little less on edge about it. When asked if he was to be her partner for this ordeal he nodded, allowing his arms to cross over his chest.
He wasn't here to make friends. Hopefully she'd understand this as well. What did pique his interest was the summoning of her familiar to which it was a modest yet eye catching jackal. His eyes held mischief, but Lars narrowed his eyes as well to show modest acknowledgement of the creature. He was always better with animals anyway. With one ear of his perking at sounds of someone approaching, the plumber gave them instructions after leading them inside of what to do.
After he had left them to their work with tools in hand Larka decided to be snippy with him. He didn't exactly know what he did to deserve it, but if she wanted to get sassy with him so early he'd deliver it back. "Same to you ." Schatten whirled into life on his shoulder, paws carefully using broad muscle to support herself. Snippy one. I don't like her. Copper colored eyes narrowed into annoyed slits to which she jumped off of his shoulder and allowed herself to lounge and watch if Lars needed help.
Lars stepped up to the area that needed digging, lodging the tool into the dirt and then proceeding to rid himself of his shirt. He wouldn't need this unless he wished to wipe the sweat from his forehead. Thus, tying it around his waist, Lars began his own trial of digging the appropriate amount.
Lars could see it now: the girl falls over from exhaustion at this hot day because of her odd stupid attire. He'd laugh honestly, a little. Had he known about her wanting to make this a competition? He'd scoff and little would change. He just wanted to concentrate on his work. Was that so hard?
Reciting her mantra of 'I can do better, I can do better' faster than a hamster running on a hamster wheel, Larka set off to work. She didn't know how to dig deep holes, whenever it came to that she would often use a hoe or a gardening shovel, the kind for planting herbs in a pot. She knew the gist of it, sticking the tool into the ground, using her foot to dig it in deeper before ripping up the earth. The hardest part was getting through the grass though, and so she struggled with it for quite some time, her patience running thin. She didn't have much patience to begin with, but even now she was well beyond her normal levels of irritation.
The thing that made it all worse though was how easy he seemed to be getting along well with this work. Every now and then she glanced over at him, just to see how far ahead he was of her. Of course, he was blowing her way. She watched him, seeing how his muscles flexed, the size of his biceps, the contours of his back and-- oh gosh did he not have his shirt on?!
Larka blanched, gasping loudly before squeaking, using her hands to shield her eyes but... she could just not look away. He may have been around her height, and truthfully like most females she wanted her male counterpart to be taller than herself, but still, the sight of his physique was enough to have her drooling as if he were her tastiest snack. Figuratively speaking, she'd devour him if she could. Even if he was someone who she felt would be better suited towards a taller male figure, he was definitely a sight to behold. Her little girl heart almost couldn't take the sight-gasm as his muscles flexed once more, the sun giving his skin such a ethereal glow.
"You're drooling. Get back to work, you're eating his dust." Khor interrupted her thoughts, if only because he himself couldn't stand the images of Lars floating around in her mind. "Don't tell me... that you want to, but with that look I guess you'll be happy licking the dirt on his feet? Larka, I know you're a late bloomer but really, you're making us look bad." His taunts were enough to get Larka to turn her head away from the sight, glaring hard at the jackal.
"Then why don't you help. You're a dog thing, so dig." Larka retorted, her face beet red at the fact he caught her staring. She really hoped cat-boy didn't catch her, or hear the crude comments Khor made. She felt frustrated, a bit feverish, and wasn't sure if it was the heat or the fact that her skin was so flushed by such shame. Or maybe it was her clothes. Stabbing at the earth once more, putting her back into it, she finally broke through the troublesome layer of grass, ripping it out from the dark soil with a meek roar of strain, her noodle arms shaking with the exertion and the weight of the grass and dirt. She needed a snack right about now.
"Terrifying." Khor said in response, flicking his ears as he yawned. "Got a real battle cry there."
Suffice to say, Lars was about as oblivious as ever. He did not notice or was keen to any of her thoughts. How could he be exactly? While his shovel was digging deeper into the earth with every stab and lift he did briefly pause at the sudden squeak that came from her. …but of course the context for why was lost on him when he looked at her and went back to his own business. Honestly what is with her? Why did she look so much in distress?
Even Schatten wasn’t answering his mental questions even though she rightly could. After all, cats are always watching and she was throwing daggers at the woman for even casting her gaze at him that lasted longer than she’d like. ”He may not be a child anymore, but this woman staring at him makes me highly irritable.” She would meow, flexing her paws with the claws unsheathing and returning within.
Lars could sense this annoyance from Schatten, concern washing over into his blue eyes. Sometimes though it was better to not ask her. She was a smart familiar, but he needn’t know everything unless she wished to discuss it.
Due to how much he had done already there was a pile of dirt to the side that was constantly growing. Hm, halfway done almost? At the very least with getting to the mark they were instructed to dig from the plumber himself. “Getting there.” He mused, working up a nice sweat from the exertion unlike the struggling noises from his partner.
“You do know, as a witch, you must train your physical body as well.” He looked to her, pausing, but not for long. “…you wouldn’t last long.”
Taking a steady breath and she tossed the dirt and grass off to the side. Now things would be a bit easier, as long as there were no rocks in her. Larka didn't notice Lars' familiar glaring at her with such condescension that only a cat could do so as elegantly as she. Obviously something much more... appealing was on her mind. It wasn't lust, it was just a normal reaction, what girl didn't like the sight of beautiful carved muscles, watching the thick sinews of someone's back contort with ease. Yes, he was much better suited to this job than she, and it caused Larka to frown as she began digging up the dirt. Her pace was faster now, yet she was still far behind. And hungry. Her stomach growled as if protesting to do anything else and so with a sigh, she stood up straight as she had been hunching over due to the weight from the metal head of the tool, and leaned the shovel against her. His words irked her.
"Sure, having some sort of physical ability would help with reflexes, reaction time, possibly during certain times I'd need to be moving but I don't see how digging a hole here or there is going to get me in tip top shape." Perhaps she was being a bit ignorant with her statement, her frustration getting the best of her. She did not like losing, and Larka most certainly didn't want to pull out a bunch of snacks like the glutton she was, but her stomach growled once more as if demanding the food. "'The pen is stronger than the sword,' wouldn't that apply to us witches? Rarely our physical strength relates to our mana, unless some study has come out suggesting otherwise..." She paused, thinking about it. Actually, some higher up witches were quite fit... maybe she didn't get the memo? Maybe she should be exercising as part of her training? Pulling her rucksack off her back and opening it up, she pulled out one bag of salty rye crackers, wasting no time in pulling one out and popping it into her mouth. Usually she cared when others saw her eat, yet by his words she figured whatever he thought of her was already too low for her to try and pull herself out of.
"And, I can't try and build muscle anyways, I'd have to eat more and as a fledgling I don't have enough money for that. If I worked out now and ate as much as I do currently I'd probably look like a boy again." Larka grimaced at the thought, remembering the harassment Khor first placed on her when he was wild and their contract had yet to be made. He was there when she changed, laughing his ass off, mentioning that without her luxuriously thick and silky black hair she could pass for a man. She was a late bloomer, later than many would deem possible, but now that she had a figure she did not want to lose. If she got too muscular would she look manly? Larka didn't want that. Well, it's not like men were short anyhow... the thought drifted off as she glanced at Lars. Well, most men weren't as short as he. "Want some?" She offered, holding out the bag after grabbing a handful for herself. "I guess should share or else you'll be calling me fat next. A-and, I'm not fat, okay? I'm perfectly healthy and if you try insulting me again then... then, you'll pay for it." An empty threat, only made more comical by how Khor sneezed at it's emptiness. As if to keep herself from further digging her grave, she nearly shove the handful of crackers into her mouth, somehow not spilling anything or even getting a crumb on her face, a testament to her skill that could only be achieved by someone with much experience in shoving one's face with snacks.
A furred ear twitched at the sudden noise, a stomach growling with a desire to be filled. Unsurprisingly though, what accompanied it was of no surprise to Lars. Though, it could've been said in a different way. The ignorance was nearly palpable. Any opportunity to use physical energy to do errands like these was good and should never be wasted. Who taught her basic functions as a good adult being? What a waste. She argued with some saying that he hadn't heard of, but could figure out just fine. She truly did believe that she didn't need to exercise and even said something strange that he couldn't even begin to understand. Looking like a boy?
"What's the point of fretting about looking like a male? Whatever your appearance, you should be able to perform your duties." It was a concept that Lars didn't bother asking too much about. It wasn't worth delving into for the sake of understanding. There would always be concepts and beliefs that differed from his own in this place. He just didn't see the desire to change one's appearance or deprive themselves of something just for the sake of looking a certain way. Schatten's copper colored eyes just gleamed, further accentuated by the sunlight reflecting off of them. What a glutton of a girl, wouldn't you say? She held a paw over her mouth, much like a graceful woman would if she was trying to hold back some laughter at a pauper before her.
At the offer to the bag, Lars crinkled his nose a little. He was cautious. It wasn't that you shouldn't accept anything from strangers, but...you shouldn't. It's poisonous wasn't it? Yet, she took some for herself? Mmm, well, just this once he supposed. He took the bag, careful not to scratch her since his nails were remarkably sharp and longer than her own. Truly, a wild man indeed. "I don't care if you're fat or a stick. That's your own business and it's not my concern if that costs you in the future."
A whole assortment of snacks were inside this bag from crackers to small little things he could only assume were sweets. Lars's idea of sweets was berries and sweet nectar and he hadn't really had a taste of what people here enjoyed of them. Thus, he took two crackers and a small spongy looking sweet thing in his hands.
The cracker was given to Schatten who nabbed it from his hand to eat at her leisure. Her pinched the sweet between his index and thumb sniffing it and sliding the tip of his tongue against it. The tried and true taste test. "...mm." He grunted, putting it in his mouth finally. It melted on his tongue and he smacked his lips to register the flavor. Too sweet for his liking, thank Gods he only took one or he'll feel nauseous. The cracker made it easier, diffusing the sweetness a little bit.
"Tell me, woman..." He paused, stabbing the earth with his shovel yet again, continuing on. His break was over, he confirmed. "Have you ever been outside the comfort of these walls?"
The frettings of a woman would be lost on him, Larka scowling at his simple yet potent words. Although, it would make sense for him not to understand. Things were different for men and women, that couldn't be denied. It was how society was, and Larka didn't mind it. She wanted to be and look as her best self, after all she had plans on being the greatest high priestess in all of history. She always imagined herself becoming a poised, soigne individual. Someone who spoke elegantly, held the proper facial expressions, was deemed perfect. Also, she wanted to be someone who ate less and just had three meals a day without a plethora of snacks in between. Would that be so hard? It was a lot to focus on, her physical appearance mixed with holding up on studying and learning magic.
So while Lars had a quixotic view on appearances that made Larka relax, she couldn't forget the fact that he had brought up her clothing the moment they met. It came before even an greeting, actually if she remembered things correctly he didn't even say any sort of greeting despite being the one to approach her. So was he just a utilitarian then? Was that a part of what made him, him? It was very much so possible, if anything he seemed like someone who would be willing to contribute to society compared to him wanting society to fall to his feet and make life easier for him. For that she had a bit of respect for him, never liking laziness. He must have been a go-getter then, and so she found a part of herself in him that had her connect, or at least soften a bit towards him. Regardless she wished that she could feel that looks don't matter.
"People judge you for how you look, whether it be on how you dress, if you have a crooked nose, overweight or, hey, I don't know have a pair of cat ears or tail." His view on looks must have developed from that, she assumed, figuring that he only had an issue with appearance if it came down to one's choice. While not knowing anything about his predicament, Larka could assume that the snow leopard features were not natural nor were they something he'd be fond of. If he were fond of them then he most definitely would be lavishing himself within the features, and often whenever someone found a particular feature of their body appealing they would unintentionally draw attention to it. Larka knew that her favorite part of herself was her hair and skin, hence why she would go out of her way to keep it protected from the sun with her uber-goth get-up. Looking off to the side, she sighed. She must be coming off as vain, even her words sounded shallow to herself.
"You're being a hypocrite if you say you don't care, else why else even mention it? Unless you just like pointing out one's shortcomings to boost your ego." Her tone didn't change, if anything it was moreso bored, as if she had gone through this conversation with someone else. She had, with her parents, for years. They could never understand Larka's being starved for a stranger's approval. Parents were supposed to approve of you, their praise was consolatory. Someone who didn't know you? Now that was a feat. So she would preen herself, would study and improve her mental capacity, do everything to stand out and be on top. "I think your outlook is too simple, it's nice but it would never work with the general public," with a huff, Larka closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.
Larka watched the witch in front of her, seeing as he gave his familiar food. Interesting. What was more interesting was how he went about eating the slice of pound cake. Against her better judgement she laughed aloud, covering up her mouth, a habit she had since she was a child. She didn't like having others seeing her smile or laughing, didn't like the way her face would contort. It was only inviting them to find a flaw. Had he never had pound cake before? She didn't find it sweet, not ever since she began dumping a cup of sugar into her coffee, but by his expression it must have been brand new. At him asking her a question, she was surprised. Naturally, Larka narrowed her gaze in haughty suspicion. Oh, great, how else would he degrade her?
"I just came to Sundial six weeks ago," She answered. Was he going to call her some country bumpkin? She had already received a jeer along the lines of her being nothing even if she had been a big deal back home. In the city there were plenty of somethings, and it came down to hard work and talent to make any spot for yourself. While cliche, she was fighting for her life. She couldn't afford to be mediocre in anything she did. Regardless, Larka didn't go back to work. Snack time wasn't over for her just yet. She paused, not sure if she add more. If she did then she would most definitely get some sort of retort. "I'm gonna go out on a limb and say the same thing goes for you, no one here eats food the way you do."
People judge you for how you look. He crinkled his nose at her answer. There were only two things that his group cared about when it came to ones appearance: Were they capable? Were they weak? Though being called a hypocrite did made him huff, but she did sound like a brat doing it either way. "It's more like an attempt to understand, but I have been told I'm a harsh individual." He wasn't exactly bothered by it, but there were always reasons for a person's behavior and how they viewed things. His look on things was labeled simple by her standards and especially for the general public. She does have a point this time. Schatten voiced herself mentally inside of his mind, moving to rub against his leg to let him know that she was close.
This entire time, not a single soul has agreed with you whether its of your appearance or how you see things, but that is fine. It's who you are, plus you're stubborn anyway. It quirked a softer tone to his normally intense blue eyes and it made working a bit more bearable with some good company that's for sure. Turns out, the woman he was with had just came to Sundial not too long ago and Lars came in even earlier in fact. What's more, she asserted a proper assumption of himself too from her observations. There wasn't a need to keep his true home a secret from her or anybody else.
"I was born in the woods." He started, still shoveling until he was certain he was at the point that plumber needed them to be at. "For my entire life, I have fought monsters and survived with my familiar and my people." Sticking the shovel into the dirt and letting it sit there, Lars allowed himself some more rest. "Most things that I have gone through are things people don't here. It's strange, but I understand." Schatten straightened up and glanced at the two, now properly clearing her throat to address the two properly. "We also have never tasted the sweets of this place. It is not difficult to assume we are quite out of our element here. Lars moreso since he has the social grace of a tumbling rock." The irritated glare that was shot at her was skillfully deflected by the cat whom just licked at her paw absentmindedly on purpose.
Larka glanced down at her feet, taking in Lars' words with mild concentration, not wanting to twist anything. Well, now that she thought back on it, it did make more sense. He just spoke a bit too matter-of-factly on some subjects for her liking, but hadn't she done that plenty of times before at home? She was strident without the flirtatiousness, basically a tyrant who would assume any form of superiority or dominance over an individual. Yet here she was, being meek and quiet. Tiptoeing, trying to be polite and correct as to not directly offend anyone. She admired, slightly however as she couldn't forget the past insults, of Lars staying true to himself. She hadn't, well at least not to how she presented herself to others.
"Your people?" Him growing up in the woods didn't bring much of a shock towards her. She didn't come from a city, just a backwater village, but Sundial wasn't too big of a surprise to her, for she didn't live in an area as lavish as this one. Her apartment was a solid eight by eighteen feet, and it was cramped. But it was cheap. And her home with her family always felt cramped and cheap so if anything the apartment brought comfort to her. However, the way he said 'my people' sounded different. "Wait, so there are others with cat tails and ears?" Larka blurted out, before glancing down at Schatten. Her violet eyes sparkled at the soigne creature, before glancing over at Khor who was scratching his ear like a mutt, she was not much of a dog person. Reading her thoughts, Khor huffed. He hated the way his witch acted towards familiars that were cat like.
"Ah, I never knew, that's so neat." Larka exclaimed, coming close to Lars and peering inside the hole. "Oh, wow, you did it, good job." She said, putting her snacks away and laying down flat on her stomach, reaching over to unlatch the metal box. "I can't tell if it says fountain but if there are a set of pipes then this might be it," Her voice was calm, even. Looks like they were almost done with their duties, although most likely they would have to go and help out the plumber with whatever else he asked for. No doubt she was cheery, after all, Lars had done most, if not all of the work.
Screaming ensued soon after she lifted the lid, her shrieks muffled for a moment before she got on her hands and knees. Her shrill voice echoed as she said one word over and over. "SPIDERSSPIDERSPIDERSSPIDERS." Despite not having touched her shovel for awhile she grabbed it and furiously began to hit the upturned earth as the armies began to crawl out, disturbed from their livelihood with all the digging that had taken place. Khor yowled, amusement in his gold eyes, watching the scene before him, briefly glancing over at Lars and Schatten before looking back at Larka.
"Yes, Larka, keep playing wack-a-mole with the shovel, please, it's hilarious." He called to her, chuckling away before an 8-legged serial killer made its way towards him. The moment Khor saw it was when he yapped, jumping back skittishly before gingerly aiming his paw just right to crush it. Smooshing it well into the earth, the familiar raised his paw and studied the guts of the arachnid with mild interest shining in his gold eyes. He then proceeded to eat it, after all bugs were all protein.
Was the idea truly foreign to people like her? That a group of people could transfigure themselves and become something different? Lars would nod, as did Schatten do the same as if in mutual agreement and confirmation of her inquiry. "Yes, we are a group of nomadic people with various transfigured traits. Not just feline." His hand slipped over his tail, holding the thick yet extremely soft thing in his hand for just a moment. He missed his friends and companions. The fellow hunters that worked with their familiars to bring a sense of peace to the woods they called home. They fought monsters and abominations, to which most would be struck just by their gaze. Truly a frightening thing to exist.
Schatten's eyes met with Larka's looking up to hers with a wise yet passionate quality in those copper orbs. She seems to have an interest in me. Perhaps because of my looks? Schatten wondered, linking to Lars as he merely shrugged. Schatten was a very pretty cat he had to say. Her sleek black coat shone in the light and it was nice to brush her on off days. Regardless, Larka took a look at the hole he had dug up by his own and soon flinched when she screamed after opening the lid. Clumps of spiders came pouring out to which Lars took a few steps back as soon as she grabbed her shovel.
"Wait, they're just..."Wack!"...house spiders..." His voice dipped, just letting her have...whatever this violent display was. Schatten stayed by his side, sitting there watching this with a limited amount of interest. These spiders weren't even venomous to humans why get so bothered?
Well, he supposed enjoying the show was all he could do at the moment.
House spiders? Oh, Larka heard his words, the blunt boredness of his tone. So spiders didn't scare him, good to know. She huffed, trying to calm down but how could she when a mass army of little serial killers were making their way towards her. Khor was being useless, hardly doing anything but killing one that came his way and eating it, which was absolutely disgusting to Larka. Nevertheless, she tried to hide the panic displayed pathetically on her face, ignore her racing heart. She did not stop with using her shovel to swipe them away, or use the metal head to smash them into the ground. She needed to keep the eight-legged horrors far, far away from her. She could practically feel them crawling up her legs, along her arms and neck, even though she knew nothing was there. Or was there? Taking a moment to stop swinging the shovel about, she patted herself quickly, eyeing her legs and shows, looking over her shoulder and down at her back and rear, satisfied that nothing unsatisfactory was crawling up, waiting to bite her.
"House spiders? No, these are bonafide little serial killers. There's a reason why the greatest fear in the world is arachnophobia, because really, you can never tell what they're going to do." Larka said quickly, her voice still shrill and shaky despite her best efforts to seem composed. She picked up the shovel again, smashing more away from her. "Why do they keep crawling towards me and not you?" She shouted indignantly. "It's. Not. Fair." Huffing, she began to feel that strain that came from physical activity in heat while wearing black clothing that covered every inch of her body, minus her hands and face of course. She attracted the heat, her dark hair and attire doing the opposite of cooling her off. Luckily her familiar sensed the heat that seemed to emit from her entire being and trotted over towards her, rubbing his sides against her warm calves. "Thank you," Larka said breathlessly, looking down at Khor with gratitude before resuming her extermination of the spiders. It didn't take much longer for her to rid of the ones that had made their way towards her, although she was sure there had to be others crawling around on the grass. Gingerly she took a few steps towards where Lars was, clutching her shovel tightly between her hands, her knuckles alabaster white.
"Okay, so, you stay here. I'll go call the plumber over. If any spiders come out kill them. I don't care if it's a baby or the size of a tarantula, but they have it out to eat me."
"Maybe they think of you as their queen, all dressed in black, you're basically their twin." Khor joked lamely, still close to his witch, discreetly cooling her off, although there was a fevered flush on her face. He wished that he told her to bring along a canteen of water, at this rate she'd get heat stroke, and she hardly did much. Larka huffed, crossing her arms after setting her shovel down, quickly stalking off to get the plumber who had been sitting on the fountain, cleaning brass pipe pieces. Soon both Larka and the plumber were at the hole, the plumber getting down, inspecting the pipes before peeking his head up, a mild frown on his face.
"Sorry, this ain't it. There's another spot I suspected might be it, over there though, here, I'll show you two, just fill this back up." He informed them, climbing out of it and swiping off the few spiders that had began to climb up his heavyduty overalls. "You two thirsty? My old woman packed me quite the bag, yer doing all the work, look at ya." He said, focusing his attention towards Larka, "Yer redder than a tomato, but it's nice to see a lady like yourself working hard. I'll bring over some ice tea." He finished, glancing at Lars before heading back to the fountain. Larka touched her cheeks, feeling how hot they were and squeaked.
"Oh no," She murmured, pulling out her tube of sunscreen and slathering it onto her skin. "This is not good for my complexion, not at all."
She was wasting so much energy with this fear bashing business that Lars couldn't be bothered to do much else but keep watch over her. Seems that the spiders didn't take much interest in him or Schatten either. She stayed so still it was like she was some small cat doll next to him. A very realistic one, in fact until she blinked. When she furiously wondered why none of the arachnids made a move towards him, he merely shrugged. He would've said: I am one with nature, so nature doesn't need to retaliate unless I make a move to. It was a give and take with nature. You took, but you gave back in equal measure to balance what was lost. It was common sense to all proper hunters.
At least Larka finally halted her obliteration of tiny beings of nature to go grab the plumber and he waited until the two returned. It may have disappointed him a little that it wasn't the right area, but work was work and he wasn't the one to complain. What he didn't like however, was that this man seemed to think he was goofing off doing nothing and giving this woman all of the credit. He had to hold back a growl under his throat and Schatten bristled under her fur but remained even more composed.
"I have water with me already." And as soon as that plumber would leave them with the new location of another place to dig his sharp eyes pummeled her with irritated intent. "I'll dig this one but you're actually going to do some work and quit soaking in what I've been doing. Go fill the other one up." Distaste was clear and he hated dead weight to begin with. Another thing of his culture surely, but he surmised that even those outside of his people would think the same if they were in his situation.
With that said, he began his work, not bothering to hydrate himself due to how heated he was currently. Nothing more irritable than a weak person, he thought.
Larka looked at Lars with mild befuddlement, unsure where his harsh tone was coming from. Was it from her not doing as much as she? She had done some work, gotten about half a foot into the ground and such, when it came to growing crops she never had to dig more than half a foot. Actually, she rarely needed to dig anyways, the ground was so cultivated and smooth one could just use their hands. She placed her hands on her hips, lifting up her chin, doing her best to seem intimidating, like she shouldn’t be messed with.
“Okay, Mr. Grumpypants, don’t get your fluffy tail all up in a twist.” Larka snarled, huffing and swinging her head to the side indignantly as if she couldn’t even bare to look at him. “I don’t see why you’re so angry, he’s the one who called me some sort of tomboy and sweaty.” She hadn’t taken credit for the work, was Lars angry about that? “What? Do you want me to go and tell him you dug it up? Does it matter? We’ll be paid the same either way.”
Picking up her shovel she tiptoed to the spider-infested hole and used the tool to close the box, not wanting to get back into the hole. With malicious satisfaction, she began to fill in the hole, a task that was much easier since the soil was loose due to Lars digging it all up. It didn’t mean it weighed any less though, her thin arms still shaking and she was shoveling in piles that were at least half the size Lars had shoveled if not less. Regardless, she was doing her job. Even if half the reason was because she enjoyed burying the spiders alive. Served them right.
Frankly, he could’ve just told her to do so purely because he had dug it all up, and Larka would’ve agreed to it regardless. She didn’t like being in someone’s debt, or to bring forth no effort to a project. Often she was the one who was the leader of most tasks and did the brunt of the work because she felt like she did it all so much better. Either way, it was much too late to change anything now, as Lars was already there at the new spot, digging away.
“Hm,” Khor said, loudly, wanting Larka to look towards him.
“What?”
“Oh, nothing. Just was thinking about how you can be such a brat at times. And you say I have no class.” Khor yawned, scratching his ear with his hind leg and sighing in content. Nothing felt better than getting an itchy area and good scratch. True euphoria, truly. Larka narrowed her violet eyes towards Khor, huffing at his critique of her behavior. She was doing nothing wrong, right? What had she done that could be considered indecent? Well, it was true he had done all the hard stuff, letting her do the easy stuff. Larka frowned, perhaps she was being a bit rude, but…
“But he’s the one who’s insulting me left and right using being blunt as an excuse Khor!” She shouted to her familiar, “I’ve tried being nice! I mean, I am nice!” The jackal shook his head, sighing in exasperation. Was his witch this dense? Seemed like it. And if so, there was no need to argue with her, wasting his breath on deaf ears wasn’t something he enjoyed doing.
