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 Ullrika only ever went downtown to get her daily dosage of snacks. In the mornings she would head straight over to her coven to see if there were any jobs for her to snag, handle any sort of business that needed to be sorted, and would then head down certain turns and alleyways to go a few questionable but undeniably cheap food places. It wasn't the best sort of place to be wandering around in, although Larka held no fear despite this area being known for being getting robbed in proud daylight. She adorn herself with her robes, and often it was a good solution to having people second guess talking to her if their intentions were poor. She may not be allowed to use magic but no one could ever ascertain what one's familiar was and what it could do without magic.
Although her familiar wasn't obnoxiously large in size and never seemed to get bigger than his two feet and thirty-five pounds, she still didn't like having him out and about despite his awareness. Only because when Khor was out and nearly free to do whatever he wanted before she could reprimand him, he was getting them in trouble. Kleptomania. Sounded harmless enough the world, what could a familiar really steal? According to Khor, anything and everything. He couldn't help it when something caught his eye, just like he couldn't help going into places he shouldn't be in. Larka did her best to keep her eye on him, but alas, whenever she had to decide on what sort of food she liked her tabs on him always simmered down. She couldn't help it, snacks were delicious.
With her back turned, Khor knew now was the time to have his fun. After all his little witch would be too distracted by the food to notice him now. With a flick of his ears, the familiar stalked off, gold eyes searching for nothing in particular other than what could be interesting to prod today. He did walk down the alley quite a bit, feeling that strain in his gut whenever he was getting too far away from Larka. His freedom was limited, more than she ever knew. That was when he caught sight of a certain building that smelled of... well fire. Without much thought the familiar headed inside, seeing it relatively empty and glanced upon the items carelessly lying open on the various counter spaces. On in particular caught his eye, glass goggles? How... intriguing.
Without much thought he leaned over, scooped the goggles gingerly between his jaws and then headed off, running fast and maneuvering between the crowd just as quickly. His gold eyes were ablaze, oh he felt alive! He had no idea where he was going to hide these precious things but perhaps he could convince his witch to make them smaller so that way they could sit perfectly upon his head. Already his mind was racing with stories and lies in hopes this time he could finally trick Larka into doing what he wanted.
Post by Cassius Constantine on May 20, 2017 21:11:47 GMT
435 words
Now Water can flow, or it can crush. Be water, my friends.
►
Cassius rubbed his head as he woke up, his eyes swimming through the landscape of his domicile as he sat up, searching for purchase in a blurry world. To make matters worse, his head felt as though a thousand spells were shooting off within the limits of his skull. He rubbed his temple in a futile effort to gain some sort of temporary relief from the pain.
Beck materialized besides the hammock that sat in the rafters of his home, in a small nook of what could only normally be described as a hayloft, that he had converted into a bedroom that at first glance, the name would still apply. “Shouldn’t have drank so much last night, huh boyo?” The dark tone of the duck couldn’t help but seem to come across as condescending to the waking man. “It’s fine Beck, a little coffee and I’ll be back to normal." He groggily stepped his way through the loft to the ladder, slowly climbing his way down, and, even slower, made his way to the kitchenette at the back corner.
Fumbling around through the blurry world, he managed to find his steel coffeepot and the tin of coffee grounds, popping off the lid, and taking a moment to enjoy the smell of ground coffee, anticipating the dark brew that would come forth to start his morning. Beck glided down from the loft, landing on the island bar that divided the kitchenette from the forge and living space, a few mixmatched barstools and chairs and a string of what could only be outdoor lights above to provide lighting. Beck didn’t care much for many things, but strangely enough, he had found himself to enjoy the strange thing known as coffee. “Heh,” scoffed Beck. “taking long enough in the kitchen there?”
Cassius stood, leaning on the bar staring intently at the can, trying to make out the blurry glyphs of language that would remind him of exactly how much the water-to-coffee ratio was, causing his headache to increase exponentially. “Shove it,” he replied bitterly, clonking down the can out of defeat. Closing his eyes, to try and alleviate the strain he now felt, he reached out with his arm to the barstool where his coat and glasses were to…
Nothing.
He felt his coat, but not his glasses. Thinking they fell, he walked around out of the kitchen and got down on his hand and knees, feeling around for the lenses that must have dropped to the floor. Searching he found nothing. Just barren wood and dust.
That woke him up faster than the coffee ever could have.
Larka, look! I found this laying around, this will be perfect for you to try out that new transfiguration scroll- make this small enough so I can wear it. Although it was a thought communicated to her, Larka turned her head in the direction of her familiar, seeing Khor running towards her with his ears flat against his head as he raced along. Clutching a parcel filled to the brim with dried cranberries and pecans, she narrowed her eyes in slight suspicion, raising a brow and producing a smile that was more akin to a grimace. She's had Khor at her side for nearly eight years, of course she would know when something seemed off. Not to mention that since arriving at Sundial, Khor had only divulged more into his bad habit and crass nature.
"Where did you find it?" She asked aloud, kneeling down once Khor was at her feet, taking the goggles and noting the way he almost didn't let them go. She inspected them, gingerly touching it as it was glass and was fragile. Really she was checking to make sure that there weren't any unseemly scratches or marks that could have come from Khor's jaws. "It looks nice, Khor, someone must have dropped it and be looking for it."
"Naw," the familiar replied, sitting down and scratching his ear. "It's most definitely been abandoned."
"Khor." Without warning she grabbed the nape of his neck, holding him up in that awkward position, her thin arm shaking from the weight. Not to mention she couldn't pull him up pass her chest despite wanted to make eye contact with him, and he was partially supporting himself up with his hind feet resting on her thighs. You stole this didn't you? The jackal only grinned in defeat, perhaps he would have had better luck digging a hole and hiding it in there for awhile before digging it back up. If it was dirty and encased with dirt he was positive Larka would've just seen it as junk and let him have it. Larka sighed, placing the familiar down and standing up with an absolutely terrifying scowl on her face, marring her pretty features.
What am I going to do with you? This is embarassing. Sarvikk Orube, take me to where you found it right NOW. She commanded, and Khor knew he was in hot oil this time. She used his full name! The nerve of that girl! Sure this was probably the ninety-ninth time this month he's stolen something but she didn't have to be such a tyrant. With a growl of annoyance at feeling his body quake in submission, he went forward, abiding her command. As they walked down back to the building Khor had nabbed the glasses from, Larka could only hope no one was home and hadn't found out about the missing glasses. Striding up to the door she rapped her knuckles against the wood quickly before hanging the goggles on the knob, and pivoted on her heel. She wanted to get out of there and out fast, worried about being yelled at or dubbed the thief.
Post by Cassius Constantine on May 21, 2017 6:36:54 GMT
435 words
Now Water can flow, or it can crush. Be water, my friends.
►
“Oh my god Beck, you AREN’T helping.”
“All I’m saying,” Beck started again as Cassius frantically searched around the small group of rooms, “is that maybe this is a lesson as to why you shouldn’t go out drinking in the first place. It’s unbecoming of the firstborn son to-“
“Oh no, what if I left them at the bar?” Continued Cassius, trying his hardest to backtrack where he had been. Unfortunately, as he had discovered before, it is quite difficult to trace your steps when for a majority of those steps you were completely and utterly drunk. His hand went to his face out of exasperation. “Where did I go last night after I was druunnnkkk!”
“Hell if I know,” scoffed Beck. “I left for here as soon as you started getting drunk again. I couldn’t stand to be around so many peasants anyhow. Who knows, maybe you tossed them.” Beck didn’t let it show, but he secretly enjoyed these moments as well. He could chastise his master with little fear of repercussion. Cassius, of course became pissed. Squinting around, he managed to find the straw broom he used for sweeping up and began blindly swiping at the rafters, trying to hit his familiar. Beck of course, being unbelievably black, with only the dim red glow of his eyes, was even harder to see than normal, and any time Cassius’ swings came close, he would simply jump to another beam. Cassius quickly became furious with the bird.
“I SWEAR BECK, WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU ITS-“
His yelling was quickly interrupted by a series of knocks on the wooden side door, instead of the main bay door which, Cass still hadn’t realized, was slightly up, having not fully closed it the night before. He quickly placed the broom aside near the forge as he quickly booked it over to the door, the entire time cursing out his familiar through telepathy.
Swinging the door open, two things caught his eye. The first, and primary of his focuses was the fairly attractive young lady who seemed to be trying to rush off. Cassius, not expecting company, especially of the female persuasion, quickly tried to compose himself, leaning against the door frame. He leaned there, his long dirty blonde hair messy and going every which way from a frantic bedhead on the top, and his ponytail wild going down his back, he stood clad in no more than his loose pajama pants and the tattoos on his arm. “OH, uh, Hi there. I, uh, wasn’t expecting company.” His eye, then out of a combination of awkwardness and a faint shine out of the bottom corner was driven to the doorknob, upon which sat his glasses. He quickly picked them up and put them on so he could see more than just the blurs of the people in front of him. “OH, THANK HEAVEN!” he exclaimed. “I thought I lost these! Are you from the bar? Strike that. Here, come in, come in. I was just making breakfast. I need to repay you for coming all this way, and it would be a shame anyway to let food go to waste.”
He quickly ushered the female into his home, or what he made of one anyway. The best way to describe it was ordered chaos. The majority of the main room was occupied with an anvil, a forge and all the tools and machines needed to operate it. To the right side of the room sat a bookcase and desk with some papers and books strewn about. To the back left across the lit bar sat the kitchenette, with a door to the back right leading outside. A ladder sat on the right wall leading up to the hayloft, which held what could best be described as a makeshift bedroom. A chest of drawers, a few footlockers and a hammock decorated it with a lantern for light. Motioning to the bar, he made his own way into the kitchen. “So how do you like your eggs: fried, boiled, or scrambled?”
The commotion was easily to hear, and even though Larka had been told by her family that she had ears like a fox and eyes like a hawk, even if she had been partially deaf she would've been able to hearing the yelling. She had no idea who this Beck was, or what they were, but either way she did not want to stay long. It was only natural for a stranger to feel awkward at an intense display of emotion from someone they didn't know, and if they had no idea what the person liked, then most definitely did Larka feel strange. Before she could even get three feet away from the hovel, she heard the door swing open. She turned, aghast, and squeaked at the realization that this man was half naked! The audacity, oh, how could she ever be married now? Khor merely snorted at her immaturity, just hoping that she wouldn't drool over this human man like the last one. Covering her hands with her eyes, she moved her ring and pink apart so one violet eye could gaze out at the man before her.
That was when she noticed the missing arm, watching him place the goggles back on his head with a single hand. Then of course, her eyes went back to his shirtlessness. And the tattoos. And then the bedhead. She was rather befuddled, and although she wanted to run away to a corner to cry about having the mind of some unsavory pervert, she somehow ended up inside the strange man's home. And boy, could she even call this a home? Her face displayed her thoughts as she looked over everything, purposely ignoring the elephant in the room: him shirtless.
Holding up her hands and shaking them slightly, trying to proffer a small, shaky smile as her eyes stared at the wall to her left, Larka did her best to keep her voice steady. "Oh, no, really, I... I'm not hungry." She mumbled out, trying her best to be polite despite her thoughts drifting to the unmentionable. Was he going to kill her? Is that why he practically forced her inside, to make her pay for stealing his glasses?
"I like scrambled, thank you." Khor said, wagging his tail as he jumped up onto the barstool, not much caring that he was now sitting on the coat that belonged to the man. "She can eat scrambled, she eats whatever anyhow. Actually, you shouldn't offer Larka food, she may eat you once you run out. Nothing satiates her, a glutton through and through." The jackal's gold eyes went up, spotting Beck in the rafters, a wolfish grin appearing on his face before his attention settled back on Cassius, his head tilting to the side, obviously looking at the missing arm without a hint of shame. "But yes, you did leave your glasses at the bar, luckily for you I am quite the good samaritan and set off to find you this morning."
Larka hmphed, her tiny hands clenching into fists as her violet orbs shot daggers into Khor's back, about ready to pull him by the tail out of this place. The liar! Liar, liar, liar, liar, what do you think you are doing? I am not a glutton and you most definitely are not a good samaritan, you stole the glasses, didn't you?! She nearly screamed through their connection, a vein popping on the side of her forehead, her aura turning into dark, rolling waves of savage fierceness rubbing their muzzles against her, ready to be unleashed and dole out proper punishment to the familiar. However, before it could become too obvious, Larka managed to settle down, merely tidying up her clothes and hair, her face defiant and haughty. Khor on the other hand kept silent. He had the upper hand, Larka never did anything too rash to embarrass herself in public so for now he was off the hook, at least as long as Cassius was around. When Larka got him in private he could only hope she wouldn't skin him alive.
Post by Cassius Constantine on May 22, 2017 1:19:11 GMT
625 words
Now Water can flow, or it can crush. Be water, my friends.
►
With a dorky grin, Cassius pushed though the swinging saloon-style door leading to the kitchen turning to the pair that now sat at the bar. “Scrambled it is then,” he said, half chuckling at the lady’s startled appearance towards the events that just transpired. Quite honestly, he was screaming at himself in his own mind, somewhere. His body and mind seemed to be acting on autopilot while the logical part was freaking out at having a girl in his home. However, externally, there seemed to be no problem whatsoever, a charming smile spread across his face as if this were nothing out of the ordinary. He grabbed the cream out of the fridge, placing it on a saucer with some sugar between them all and began passing out cups before returning to grab the fresh pot of coffee off of the fire.
Beck, smelling the coffee, already swooped down from his perch, the tiny duck landing at the open spot before glaring at the canine sitting in his usual spot. “Mangy mutt,” his dark voice rolled out. Before turning his attention to the liquid being poured into his cup. Beck personally preferred his black, and immediately began taking sips. Cassius, of course, liked his cream and sugar with a splash of coffee, and applied a decent amount of both into his cup. Taking a sip he turned his attention back to preparing breakfast, pulling out two pans, a carton of eggs, some strips of bacon, some butter, and throwing on himself an apron.
As he began, he addressed the dog familiar’s statement. “It’s impolite not to offer food to a guest. Besides, a girl like her? She’s too cute to be a glutton.” Beck, of course, was currently trying not to spit-take his coffee at this, because, unlike their company, he was fully privy to the one man play of a shitshow that was going on in Cassius’ mind at the moment.
It was the dog’s comment about how Cassius was lucky that seemed to spark off something in Beck however. “Fool,” scoffed the black bird. “Mind your manners. You are speaking to Cassius Constantine, First born of the infamous Constantine Cla-,” He was cut short, as Cassius’ head spun around. While externally, a smile and charming demeanor crossed Cass’s face, Beck could feel the anger rolling off of him. HASMED AF, Cassius scolded, coldly at his familiar. “Let’s not discuss such topics at the table, hmm?” rolled out in his sweeter tone, but nonetheless without a faint hint of venom.
Beck shut up and went back to drinking his coffee, or, more accurately, threw his own head face-first into it to keep himself from accruing any more feet in his mouth. His master had definitely lost his hangover now, and Beck could no longer get away with what he had been before.
Cassius turned his attention back to the food, spicing up the eggs with salt and pepper, and putting even pieces of bread with butter before passing them out to everyone along with steel utensils that Cassius was actually quite proud of having forged. After all the food got out, Cassius’ mind snapped back to reality and proper manners. “Oh, I forgot to introduce myself! Cassius Constantine, at your service Miss…?” he held out his hand to shake hers as he introduced himself. “I mainly do work for Jester’s Den, but, here I live! Not the most glamorous life, I know, but the forge keeps me busy, and I don’t have to worry about using my magic a whole lot to work it!” With a smile, he picked up his mug and took a sip of his coffee and motioned as if giving up the floor. “But enough about me, what about you?”
Notes: I have no idea what just came out of my hands.
There was nothing else they could do other than to go and follow Cassius into his kitchen, after all it was much too late now. Khor seemed intent on staying for a free meal and while Larka was all for free food, she couldn't help but feel guilty. He was thanking them, surely that was why he was so intent on giving them a free meal, all because he thought they did something good. When in truth, Khor was the thief and Larka was merely righting his wrong. Lying did not feel good and she debated telling Cassius just as much, but was much too scared too. Regardless her gut twisted in anticipation, her face aghast as Khor seemed to fit right in. She sat down, pulling the mug of coffee towards her with both handles, silent for the time being.
"Well, well, well, I've never seen a chicken that looked quite like you," Khor said towards Beck, his pink tongue gliding over his black lips, briefly showcasing his sharp, white teeth. "Are you the one laying the eggs? You most definitely insult like a chick." A play on words, was he calling Beck a child or a female? It was the only thing he could do, not wanting to call the other familiar bird brain just yet. Besides, he wanted to play it as cool as possible, especially while his witch did the opposite. Larka poured the rest of the sugar and cream into her mug, deftly sloshing the liquid around in her cup without spilling a single drop. She was still lost in her thoughts but was easily pulled out of them, a blush blooming on her pale cheeks. It wasn't because he called her cute, no she had been called cute and pretty and beautiful all throughout her life. It was the fact that he didn't deem her to be a glutton, boosting her ego to the moon and back. As if to hide the fact that his compliment brightened her mood, Larka uncharmingly began chugging down the coffee- if one could even call it such after all the cream and sugar- really, just proving to Cassius that she was one. Not on purpose, but whenever she was in a pinch she often had to stuff her face with something to keep a level head.
With Beck words though towards Khor, she put her mug down, her interest piqued. Constantine Clan? Well at least she now knew her host's name, which brought her comfort. It was awkward to be inside a stranger's home and accepting their food on top of it. Plus the exchange he had with his familiar was quite intriguing. Maybe it was because she had just came to Sundial six weeks ago, but Larka was unable to recall anything worthwhile about a clan, or the surname Constantine. Although, infamy was added beside that title and Larka wasn't sure if perhaps Beck was just making a jab towards his witch, something she felt the familiar did often and had no problem in doing. Much like her own.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, thank you for your hospitality, Cassius," Larka said sweetly, proffering a smile that matched her lilting, airy tone. "If you're in Jester's Den then I'm afraid we're rivals, please don't poison the food to get your competition out of the way." Her humor was drier than any desert, yet the sparkle in her violet eyes and the way her smile didn't dissipate were keys to see she was making an attempt at humor. "I'm Larka and my familiar is known as Khor, we're a part of the Silvertongue coven." She didn't question Cassius' distaste towards magic, although Larka found it rather strange that he would join a coven if he didn't wish to use it. Why do that? Maybe it was for some extra cash? "Um, do you need any help?" She offered, instead of offering more information about herself. Cassius seemed friendly enough, and if he was in Jester's Den then she found him to be quite harmless. Either way, she still needed to be careful, especially while Khor was in lala land smelling the bacon.
Sorry it's so short, originally it was much longer but then it accidentally disappeared :/
Cassius laughed at Larka’s joke about poisoning food. If he noticed her scarf down the coffee, he either didn’t’ notice or didn’t care, likely because his own coffee was down within a minute as well. “Well, I don’t know about rivals. Our Coven’s might not see eye-to-eye, but there are worse things in this world than being a Silvertounge.” The end of this comment was delivered in a lighthearted, joking kind of manner, followed by a wink at the end to emphasize this. He turned back to the fridge and cupboards, pulling out some more ingredients and things. “If you’re still hungry, I can make some more food. Can’t have a guest leave hungry, now can I?”
Normally at this point Beck would have responded along the lines of Smooth over their telepathic connection, but he was too busy being boiling mad at the disrespect this other familiar was showing him. “You DARE insult me in my own home you flea ridden mutt? I’ll have you neutered for this disrespect! Just because my physical form is little more than a semi-aquatic mammal doesn’t mean I lack the power to put you in your place myself!”
Cassius perked up at the mention of help with his magic, and gave a slight chuckle, “It’s not necessarially that I need help, its more along the lines of I don’t like to use it unless it’s an emergency. It doesn’t generally have the most positive connotation with it, and the fact that its decended through my family line means it tends to be geared towards offense…” his voice trailed off as his eyes drifted over to the scene unfolding before him involving Beck and Kohr. While the Jackal was laughing, he could feel Becks anger growing, and the shadows of their shared magic beginning to roll and solidify around the bird.
“Allow me to show you the true power of our magical lineage,” threatened Beck, the shadows coalescing, turning the birds already dark feathers into an even darker shade of vantablack, the only give to him being the dim red glow of his eyes and the coiling and solidifying of liquid black spikes around him. Cassius was aware of the situation immediately however, knowing how vain Beck can get. He quickly whipped the apron up over his missing arm and focused on the magical ability within, the shadow cast over his side manifesting. Quickly, a large, dark claw of pure shadow shot out and clasped around Beck, drawing him in closer to Cass and restraining him. Cassius glared at the bird, “No making trouble for our guests.” In a quick puff, he forced Beck to dematerialize, and, with a sigh, dissipated the claw, swinging the apron back around to its correct spot at the front. “Sorry about that,” he said rubbing his head before returning to his smile. Regathering his ingredients, he began setting biscuits in the oven and preparing a gravy to go over them. “As I was saying, biscuits and gravy sound good?”
She lifted up her chin in slight defiance, as if challenging him, Larka's violet eyes shining. At least he got her joke, her humor either went over people's heads or was so god awful that many just ignored her bundled of strange words strung together. If they were on the same page then so be it, however whether Cassius was joking or not, she'd allow no disrespect to her coven. "Yes, good thing I'm not in Joker's Den then, much, much worse than Silvertongue." She said smoothly, her tone still filled with humor but she sat up straighter, her posture prim. He'd be free to add more to this challenge, but Larka was intent on winning a battle on who's coven was better. Although her defiance soon turned to meekness when he mentioned more food, watching him open up the fridge and pull out even more ingredients. Did he think he was feeding a whole army? Well, he practically was with Larka however she didn't plan on eating much in front of him, wanting to keep her voracious appetite under control. "O-oh, no, it's okay, really," She pipped up, holding her hands out in front of her and shaking them slightly, her voice going back to sweet and pure.
Khor rolled his eyes towards Beck, letting him speak. Larka found no need to really correct Khor, in her mind her familiar was perfectly justified and didn't need to be reprimanded by her. She had once already when she found him out of line, but that was merely because hypocrisy did not sit well with her. Khor held no intentions to fight, preferring to just fool around, but conflict was not something he looked forward too; at least, not while bacon was sizzling in the pan. With Beck creating a scene, both witch and familiar discovered one thing: their element was darkness. Good to know, for both of them. Khor yawned at Beck's display of power, doing his best to seem nonchalant about the situation.
"Is that supposed to impress me?" Khor said dully to Beck, right before Cassius handled the situation. He said nothing more, after all, he could feel from Larka that now was the time to be quiet, that there was no need to seem like an arse. He, in the end, was victorious, despite not doing much to receive the title other than pissing off Larka less than Beck had seemed to angered Cassius. Besides, now was the time for the witches to talk. And Larka was impressed with how Cassius used his magic to create a pseudo-arm for himself. She supposed you could do that with many elements, albeit fire or water for they'd bring about more trouble than help, but still, it showed her that his missing arm wasn't truly a significant handicap.
"Oh, well, I meant with cooking," Larka admitted. She wouldn't help someone from another coven with their magic, no, that would be undermining her success. She didn't need him rearing up and possibly beating her to the spot of high priest. Although, he reminded her much of her family, and it caused her to frown. So what if it was offensive? There's no harm in such a thing. She could never understand why someone who possessed abilities as magnificent and mighty as magic would wish to lay them to waste. She did not agree with using magic to make one's life slothful, to her it was akin to inaction and laziness, but magic could easily be used to better the world. Even if it was offensive there were monsters roaming about. "You think like my family, they're all a bunch of apprentices. The last novice in my family was my great grandfather. Everyone else are fledglings or apprentices, but they don't defend themselves through that. We're all just a bunch of farmers now." She said bitterly, her eyes narrowing as she grimaced. Why did she share that with him? It made her sound weak or maybe even gave her some sort of 'country' status she did not like. "But, anyhow, you'd like some help, yes? It's the least I can do... you're working so hard." And just like that, she was back to a bright and peppy guest, wanting to fan away her moment of abnormality.
Sorry it's so short, originally it was much longer but then it accidentally disappeared :/
Cass laughed at Larka’s rebuttal to his comment on Silvertounge. He could feel the slight venom in her tone, and got the impression that he had, unintentionally, insulted her in some way. “Oh no, don’t get me wrong! I have no qualms with Silvertounge, it’s a great coven. My sister is just in it is all, and she tends to side with my mother on things, which is the opposite of my own take on how the world works…” He trailed off a bit, the reminder that his sister was out there, probably plotting to kill him as he spoke. The thought brought a strange chuckle to him, for although he knew full well his younger sibling’s opinion of him, he knew that the sibling type of love he held for her had never truly left him, and he suspected it never would.
Then her comment on helping him cook caught him a little off guard. “Oh, uh, sure.” The result kind of stammered out of him. He didn’t mind being closer to her, but in his experience living with families that would spare a room tended to fervently deny him helping as he was a guest. But, he could see where Larka was coming from, as he himself almost had to force it upon his hosts to allow him to help on his own. Moving over to allow her some space, he smiled to her. He measured out the ingredients for the biscuit dough, and put them next to a bowl for her. “If you want to mix those out in the bowl, put them in nice, small patty-sized clumps on the sheet, I’ll throw them in the oven.”
Her comment on his take on magic actually made him burst out laughing, a nice, hearty, deep laugh. “Oh, believe me, if I could find a way to do my missions I would, but my abilities are kind of limited here. It’s not that I can’t get them done, it’s that solidifying shadows, teleportation, and shapeshifting don’t make for a whole lot of good. I’d like to one day know enough to where I can bring some honor to my family name, but right now, having been raised by thieves, murderers and assassins, my repertoire is just slightly limited. It’s not like I’m shooting for High Priest or some shit. I just want to do something good for this world, and if that means being there for someone else, well I suppose there’s nothing wrong with that.” By the end of his little monologue his grin seemed to almost spread ear to ear, a light chuckle still escaping. “Also, I see nothing with helping someone across covens. Those lines are more like guidelines to me anyway, just meaningless and minor differences in opinion. Besides…” He turned looking Larka straight in the eye as he was mixing the gravy. “I think we could make some magic across borders.”
