#celedyn

[noonmutter]

Cycle

(Tw: death, grief, generally being really fucking sad. Because of course I did)

It had been a very long day.

Days like these usually were. It hadn't even had the decency to be the appropriate weather; no dreary greys in the sky, no puddles from a slow, chilly rain, not even a peep of distant thunder. The sun was bright, the sky was brilliant blue and clear save for a few fluffy, insulting clouds, the air was calm, and

He wasn't there.

Leon would've loved to prod him about the sour expression on his face; he'd gone to such lengths to look the part and the weather had so thoroughly refused to cooperate. So much black under bright skies clashed horribly with his complexion, he looked like a damn ghost under warm sunlight, to say nothing of the awful effect that light had when it hit the inevitable twin trails of mascara.

There had been plenty of funerals behind him--a musing he would only ever make in private--and there would likely be plenty more. He always wondered if he would stop attending one day. Mourning was a messy process and he'd much rather have it out in the comfort of his own home, cuddling his puppy and making a terrible mess of her fur, and not wasting perfectly good makeup on an ugly cry. Funerals were miserable, dreary affairs, even if there was occasionally a big raucous wake at the end. That part was nice, but there was always the bit afterward, when everyone went to sleep or went home, and it became even more obvious who hadn't gone with him, and it put an awful pall over the remainder of the evening, like morning breath after a night of tavern crawling.

Elegant, dark cloth hit the floor in a rumpled pile, and he thought fondly of what someone might say when the shoes gently thunked on the rack in the oven, but

He wasn't there.

And for a few hours, that was all. It was quiet in the apartment, aside from the puppy's claws clicking on the floor as she trundled along after him, and refused to leave him alone. It was a terribly familiar habit, and that really made it all so much worse. He reflected, during one of his quieter moments, that he should've seen that coming. But then, he'd spent so long avoiding making those little mental connections, lest they become vocal ones, and if they'd escaped from his traitorous little mouth, Leon's face would've done that terrible thing where it became a mask, and he would've kicked himself the rest of the day, and

He wasn't there.

Eventually, the mail came. Probably the afternoon delivery, but it might've been the morning. He'd drawn the curtains and hadn't bothered to open them yet. Tossing the pile onto a countertop, he almost missed the plain brown envelope they landed on.

It'd been pressed into his hands after the procession. He'd almost forgotten about it entirely. The little crow's-head wax seal over the flap tempted him to try and forget about it again, but he knew that wouldn't have been fair. So, steeling himself, he broke the seal, and tipped the contents onto the countertop.

A little piece of something clattered onto it, but knowing where--and whom--the parcel had come from, he went for the letter first.

"Diva,

"I'm sorry. I know there's nothing to be done about it, but nonetheless, I'm sorry that I couldn't stay. I hope that I managed to be one of your favorite chapters. Failing that, at least one of the most interesting, the way I'd once said I aimed to. And if I did... I'm sorry for that, too. But if you were honest about anything, I hope the bit about loving to return to those chapters was one of them. Nothing would please me more than to know that I can still be responsible for it when you smile, even if you're cursing at me through your teeth when you do. Perhaps, sometimes even especially when you're cursing at me. We both know I'm a little shit, but you liked that, too.

"Thank you for being my friend. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for letting me love you. Thank you for taking care of what I can't anymore. Thank you for forgiving me my humanity. Thank you for letting me know you.

"I look forward to seeing you again, however long that takes.

"Yours,

"Leon Elroy Ambroce"

The little piece of something took a bit of unwrapping, made more difficult when he had to keep pausing to wipe his face. Eventually, he revealed his prize: a carved stone crow, nestling comfortably in his palm. Its cool feathers were ablaze in bands of shimmering green and flecks of blue. And...of course Leon had; there was another, much shorter note attached to even that.

"I always liked your window the most"

The next morning, the little crow caught the sunlight beautifully from its perch on the windowsill.

( @celedyn for mentions and ease of yelling at me)

#my writing #leon #celedyn #a look into the future #I might've made the mun cry #I'm only a little sorry #yes I know I'm going to hell

[ultimatewowdursgate]

SAS: It's always great to see Kaz around at events, even if I may not be able to interact with him heaps! Is he on the Isles at the moment? What's in store for his adventures?

(I'd been meaning to post an update / where are they now thing but never got round to it. Thanks for prompting me so that I finally did!)

He is on the Isles, yes. Valdrakken is too large and busy for his tastes so he's mostly been splitting his time between helping the Centaur of the Ohn'ahran Plains and Iskaara, which is such a pleasant and relaxing place to hang out. He hopes to explore the land more in future but for now this is where he's settled.

As to what's in store; he's absolutely adores the Bakar. He finds them a perfect middle-ground behind the strength of the wolves most Orcs prefer and the more relaxed nature of ordinary dogs. He wants to adopt one and is currently working up the nerve to ask either the Centaur or the Tuskarr if he may.

(Really hoping I can get the Bakar Companion pet to drop so I can actually do this. My enjoyment of the Bakar versus my irrational worries about looking like I'm just copying Celedyn with his character's pet dog: fight!)

#Warcraft #Kazuro Jadefist #Celedyn #asks and answers

[celedyn]

(Music: Reaper Man by Mother Mother)

A wave of fog rolls out as the music starts, clinging close to the ground. Lights come up on the cage, revealing a figure within. Celedyn paces the length of the cage, clad in opulent layers of iridescent white with his skin painted to match.

The clear soles of his high heels make it look as though the elf is drifting above the fog, but a heavy chain attached to his collar keeps him grounded as does the sinstone bound across his back - the vices carved into it too neumerous to read.

Celedyn pauses as he spots his audience, slinking over to the bars. The elf doesn't beg, doesn't cling desperately; instead he seems entertained by his own predicament. He slides his hands reverently up his own chains, drags his nails against the rough stone.

Celedyn picks over the links of his chain, singling out one in particular. He leans down, wedging it where the cage bars meet the brace. The elf gives a conspiratorial smirk and twists sharply away, wrenching the weakened link open.

Celedyn shrugs off his sinstone and rises to his full height, luxuriating in the moment. He leaps, grabbing a horizontal swinging bar and smoothly pulls himself up, one leg escaping the tangle of his robes to hook around the bar.

Celedyn hangs, relaxed against the cascade of cloth, sliding hands across his unburdened chest. He lifts his other leg, toes pointed, and uses it as a counterbalance for one great swing, pulling himself up to sit on the bar.

The ghostly elf glances to the crowd, a sinister look in his eye as he reaches up to retrieve something secreted away up in the ceiling of the cage. The stage lights glint off the bright surface of a thin stiletto knife.

Celedyn slashes his robe, slitting the fabric smoothly all the way up his thigh, across his hip, stopping just below the belly. He kicks his freed leg up over the bar, giving a glimpse of hot pants beneath.

Celedyn looks out over the crowd as he slices his sleeve open, up his shoulder and across his chest. He trades hands, his expression dreamy, reverent as he slices the other to match, scraps of cloth hanging cascading from bare shoulders.

With one last pull, he shreds the tattered robe, letting the ruined cloth drop. He tangles his fingers into his hair and leans back languidly, lifting his legs in counter balance.

Tension visibly runs along the elf's exposed torso as he arches his spine. His legs spread into a full split, thighs resting against the chains on either end of the bar as he rocks forward just enough to hang suspended.

Celedyn runs his hands up his meticulously toned chest, his well defined hips, stroking along the tops of his thighs, savoring the feeling of his own bare skin. He focuses again, taking hold of the bar as his legs snap together, sending him tumbling forward.

Celedyn lands neatly on his feet with a loud click of his heels. He glances back over his shoulder and takes the knife from his teeth, smirking suggestively as he slides the tip of the blade over the fabric of his teeny pair of hot pants.

Celedyn laughs, wagging a finger to scold the crowd as he takes the knife away. This isn't that kind of show! He crosses to the door, slipping his arms though the bars and sliding the stiletto blade into the lock.

Celedyn lets his tongue slip past his lips, fully focused as he picks the lock. The elf doesn't seem to notice as a second figure enters the stage. Jiroki moves smoothly, dressed resplendently in the robes of none other than The Accuser.

Celedyn clicks the last pin into place, opening the door only to find himself face to face with the Venthyr. He freezes a moment, blue eyes slipping to the tithe chalice in her hand. The elf swallows heavily, then tries to regain his composure.

(Music: Love Me Dead by Ludo)

Celedyn offers The Accuser his most charmingly sheepish smile. The high elf tries to conceal his blade, dropping it into the soft pile of his ruined robe and kicking a bit of cloth over it as he leans up towards her, begging a kiss.

The Accuser's expression darkens as he attempts to flirt. Looming like an approaching storm; rushes forward, reaching to grab the man by the throat before throwing him to the floor.

The Accuser follows as he tries to scramble back, setting boot on his chest, pinning him beneath her heel. She leans down, pressing her whole weight into the struggling elf, drinking in his expression before she lifts the tithe chalice.

Celedyn twists beneath her boot, spine arching, hands clawing at the cobblestones as he is racked with something that... doesn’t quite look like pain. A faint red trail of anima is drawn from his chest to pool within the vessel.

Celedyn collapses, panting heavily as she she withdraws to examine the tithe within, unimpressed. The Accuser pours a little of the anima out into her palm and shows it to him: disappointing, hardly worth the trouble of collecting it.

Celedyn pushes himself up to his knees and leans in to drag his tongue through the pool, meticulously cleaning the offered anima. As he finishes, he lifts his eyes; not the the woman's face, but staring at the chalice as he kisses her wrist.

The Accuser catches his wandering eyes and lets her hand drop. She turns away, suddenly disinterested. Celedyn stares at her turned back in disbelief, struck dumb for several moments before he pushes himself up to his feet.

Celedyn steps smoothly behind her, his heels bringing him high enough to nose at the back of the Venthyr’s neck before placing a penitent kiss on her shoulder. She considers, then lets a hand drift back, fingers weaving into the soft waves of his hair.

The Accuser glances back over her shoulder, only to catch him once more with his eyes locked hungrily on the chalice, his greedy hand reaching towards it. Her grip on his hair tightens and with a sharp wrench he is thrown back to the ground.

The Accuser doesn't hesitate and with a loud crack she stomps down, snapping the heel of his shoe. Before Celedyn even has a chance to realize what is being done, her foot crashes down on the other; shattering it as well.

The Accuser turns, giving one last disappointed look before she walks away, letting the chalice drop. It rolls towards Celedyn as the elf tries in vain to stand and follow her. He curses, deflated, at least until he notices the discarded chalice...

Celedyn picks up the chalice, eyes scanning the audience before landing on Leon. He visibly swallows a smirk before giving his most sweet, pleading look. The elf crawls to kneel on the edge of the stage, crooking one finger, his lips in a soft pout.

Celedyn curls his fingers into the fabric of Leon's shirt, clinging to him as he leans hungrily up into the other man's kiss. His grip tightens as the kiss grows deeper and he lifts the tithe chalice, drawing a red glow from the human's chest.

The Accuser storms forward, grabbing the elf's collar as one would scruff a dog before dragging him away. She grabs a length of chain suspended from the rafters and shackles his collar to it.

Leon is a little startled, but not enough not to respond. He sinks into the kiss, barely resisting the temptation to pull Celedyn clean off the stage for himself.

Celedyn tries to stand, his ruined shoes twisting out from under him as he clings to the chain. Finally the elf's bare shoulders flex and he hoists himself up, climbing the heavy chain like an aerial silk.

Celedyn swings his long legs, moving from one pose to the next, each serving to wrap the chain around his torso, across his thigh, binding himself into a knot until he hangs languidly, a single length in his hand the only thing keeping him from falling.

Celedyn releases that final length. His body twists and tumbles as the bonds unravel, until he swings his legs up, wrapping them back around the chain and jerking to a sudden stop - upside down and scant inches above The Accuser's head.

The Accuser smiles and reaches up, dragging the elf into a possessive kiss. Her throat flexes and the crowd can see that faint glow of anima pulled from him once more as he releases the last of the chain, sinking down into her embrace.

Celedyn unbuckles the collar as Jiroki carefully sets him on his feet, one hand remaining on his back to hold him steady. He rests a hand on her shoulder, grinning widely as the pair takes a bow before she scoops him up and carries the waving elf off stage.

@bread-elf @mremaknu

#performance #succulent tart #celedyn

[dicenne]

TMI Tuesday:

When is the last time you needed to use a safe word?

"Mmmm...I can't even recall. Let's just say that in my typical scenarios, I'm not usually the one that would be needing to use a safe word. Not exactly the submissive sort." Wink wink.

ty @celedyn

#ama

[straightouttatheashes]

FFAF: What's the funniest insult you've ever heard or said?

"I've heard 'most erotic guild' as an insult towards the Tarts before. Celedyn even said he was going to add that to a flyer to gather more attention or something. Sometimes the insults towards the guild turn out to actually be compliments." "Though, we are a burlesque entertainment guild only! Some folk get the wrong idea and then get stuffy about it."

ty @safrona-shadowsun

#asks #answers

[huggy-kissy-erozikith]

Daily Writing Challenge: Day 6 - Home

[This lore is a part of Erozikith's story during the three-year peacetime after the events of mortals' meddling in the Shadowlands, a few weeks before the Tarts After Dark.]

TW: Sensual Mentions, Light Eroticism

The leisurely rise in the hustle and bustle of the Headquarters each morning pulls Erozikith gently from his slumber. He blinks -- or whatever the equivalent is with a nictitating membrane -- away the sleep and slowly brings himself out from under the patterned blanket that was growing warm with the early rays from the window. A stretch here, a yawn there, pulling on fresh pants and a Tart vest, he's ready to take on the new day!

He starts in the kitchen, tongue flicking curiously as he picks up the scents of all the various foods to keep the Troupe going. He then focuses a bit more and sees Deagra sipping coffee by the counter and he greets her with a delighted wave. "Hello!"

The Dark Iron gives a polite nod. "Good morning, Erozikith."

Content with the greeting, his attentions return to all the food. He had eaten a turkey earlier in the week, but a snack would keep the edge away until the next week! He spies a carton of fresh eggs and picks one up, carefully cracking it open and pouring the contents into his maw.

Deagra shrugs. 'Must be a cultural things these surfacers do.' She thinks.

Renthios, who just steps into the doorway with another fresh carton, watches for a moment. 'Must be a Sethrak thing.' He thinks, setting the new eggs on the table beside the previous ones.

Erozikith isn't greedy, and gives his puppy smile to his friends (and hugs, of course, if they so wish!) before waving and going on his merry way.

Celedyn is there, too! He's brought Gertrude and the Sethrak is delighted. He loves the little pudgy creature, giving all the pets and very gentle squishes. "Her fur is always soft!" He muses brightly.

"Of course~!" The High Elf responds, watching over the Sethrak and his lovely little pug. "Only the best for Gertrude~ She always looks so darling in her little bath cap~" His sultry tone is broken only slightly by charming giggles.

A little chirp takes the Sethrak's attention and he hums curiously, bringing an iComm from his belt. He presses the button to have the received message read out to him.

“Sarcyon says: Hello, Eroz! Are you in Headquarters? I'm here!"

Erozikith nods, an excited hiss leaving him before pressing the button to respond. "I will sssee you soon!" In his excitement, however, he scratches the screen with his claws and leaves a small mark to join many others. He winces at the sharp sound and pouts only a little. He would have to ask Caythaes for another replacement screen.

Gently, the Sethrak picks up the chunky pug to set her down on the floor so he could stand up. "I'll see you later, Celedyn!" He beams, giving his elven friend a good squeeze before making his way out to meet Sarcyon.

The Illidari, who had been waiting outside his room, is suddenly greeted with a wall of eager snake. He cannot help but to wheeze a bit of laughter, and hug his friend in return. "I've brought ramen! I hope you like it!"

Erozikith would never say no to another snack.

After tasty soup and toasty cuddles, Sarcyon would give one more big squeeze to his Sethrak friend before departing for a bit of performance practice. Sometimes, Erozikith would follow and watch, but today... He needs a new screen on his iComm before he hurts his fingers... again.

On his way to Cay's room, the Sethrak sees a familiar face in the halls. "Hi, Kazuro!" He cheers, running over for a hug.

"Hello, Erozikith." The Orc says with a smile, squeezing back tightly in return and letting go with a hearty slap to the Sethrak's shoulder. "I was just on my way to the kitchens. Want to join me?"

The squishy snake is very conflicted. He always likes more food but... "I can't..." He says with sad puppy eyes before brightening almost immediately, assuring his friend. "But next time!" He then darts off before he can get distracted again.

"See you later!" Kazuro calls after him, shaking his head with a soft smile.

Erozikith skids to a halt before the phoenix's door, toe-claws scratching the floor a little. He knocks and waits, head tipping this way and that as he watches for signs of acknowledgement. The door opens after a bit, revealing Cay in their outfit for a performance. Seems they're ready for practice, too!

"Hey, Erozikith." They greet with curiosity and maybe a bit of hurriedness. "What-- What brings you here?"

The Sethrak's expression turns from happiness to a bit of guilt. He hands over his iComm, the screen covered in scratches. "I need a new screen." He whimpers, looking like a scolded pup.

"A-again?" Caythaes asks, brow raised as they inspect the device. Their eyes shift to the Sethrak's claws, undoubtedly the culprit of the dilemma. "Hmmm." They hum softly in thought before stepping back. "I-I think I have an idea. Come in!" They beckon before turning to their desk, covered in bits and tools.

After a while, Erozikith leaves with a new screen on his iComm and claws coated in Tarts-pink silicone. "This sh-should help!" Cay had said, before all the air in their lungs left from Erozikith's sudden embrace. They weakly pat his back as he thanked them over and over, even giving a snoot boop to their forehead.

"Thanks, Cay! I'll see you sssoon!" He announces as he tucks his iComm away and starts for the practice hall. He hears music! It's the music Dicenne talked about!

He peeks his head in, watching as the stage fills with fog as a song comes to a close. As quietly as possible, scaled feet tip-toe across the floor. The little click-clack of claws don't hide him well.

His head tilts slightly as Dicenne emerges from the mist, clad in skin-tight dark leather. He appreciates the sight, however, his gaze settles on the whip at the Elf's hip. He seems nervous as it's unfurled, and the loud CRACK! makes him yelp and cower, covering his eyes. But then... soft. Many soft touches. He peeks out.

Feathers. He's covered in feathers as more rain down from the split pillow. He sneezes once as one lands on the tip of his nose. He enjoys the softness.

Erozikith's gaze follows Dicenne's and he now notices Sheizara is there too! He resists the urge to wave, not wanting to distract his friends from their practice. When things turn a bit heated, however, his scales flush a bright pink.

Now, he's no shrinking violet, but he doesn't think exhibitionism is for him. Not that he quite knows the words for it, he just knows he couldn't be so bold.

Another SNAP! of the whip, another flinch, but now there's a hat in his lap! He gently puts it on and claps delightedly.

Dicenne had been aware of the Sethrak's aversion to hard touches on his head, though he knows not why.

Out of the corner of his eye, Erozikith spots another friend! Ryland! But Ryland seems to be a part of Dicenne's performance as well, and... whoa. The Sethrak places his hands on his face, trying unsuccessfully to hide the deep red blush rising under his scales, but he can't help but watch. Stunning acrobatics and the vigorous removal of clothes, it's certainly a sight. Dicenne's only left in mesh shorts, and...

Oh, right, some elves have their mating parts on the outside. Huh.

At the end of the practice, Erozikith watches the see-through cloth fly from behind a curtain and he blinks as it lands on his snout. He gives a hearty round of applause, enchanted by the performance and eager to show his support.

His friends are so talented!

At the end of the night, Erozikith cannot hide the gaping yawn he gives. With a handful of enthusiastic good-night hugs and many promises for the morrow, he returns to his own room. Tired eyes glance over the knick-knacks and souvenirs from his friends, and it brings a smile to his weary snoot. Awaiting by his window, his favorite blanket sits amongst a cloth puddle, a gift from Pheonix and Barry during his first Winter's Veil with the Tarts.

The Sethrak wanders over and curls up, pulling the blanket over him and reveling in the warmth remaining from the day's sun. One last thought whispers in his mind as he falls asleep:

'This is the best home I ever had.'

~ @daily-writing-challenge​

Mentions: Deagra @deagra-wra​ Renthios @renthios-duskblade Celedyn @celedyn​ Sarcyon @chillidari​ Caythaes @mekandawn​ Kazuro @kazuro-jadefist​ Dicenne @dicenne​ Sheizara @sheizara​ Ryland @rylandfalkov​ Pheonix @straightouttatheashes​ Barry @disruptanddisturb​

#Ssstoriesss #DWC 1122

[cythion]

May DWC 2023

Day 7: Lover

The party was in full swing and the Fire room was crowded. The press of heated flesh everywhere. Cythion was in his element. He had had several performance sets on various stages throughout the night. Some were solo, some were of him flogging willing patrons and letting them experience the feel of fire touched falls.

Some were straight up sex and kink. He was stripped down to the leather harness that made his pecs look amazing, and a black leather jock strap, though this had been pushed to the side several times and even now barely contained him. Even his boots were gone now after one patron wanted to lick the sweat and later the jizz from between his toes. Who was Cy to deny someone their pleasure?   

Cy moved through the crowd like a panther, keeping his eyes out for any indication that his presence was wanted. The move through the crowd was a slow one with many stops for smiles and flirting, kisses and gropes, where they were welcomed. He knew Celedyn was somewhere around as he had seen the platinum haired beauty when he was on stage. He wasn’t actively seeking out his lover as this was a professional gig here and tonight, he was everyone's lover. But he would steal a few kisses or more from those familiar lips, if the opportunity arose.  

As he made his way through the space, Cy spotted what he was looking for. Not his lover but a beauty nonetheless. She waved to him as she caught his eye. The dancer/escort smiled and moved to her side. She was Draenei, lightforge maybe though he could rarely tell. Everything about her spoke of elegance and grace, it made Cy wonder how she would look covered in sweat and cum, pink cheeked and fully debauched. She was seated, so Cy squatted down, legs spread wide and shameless. “Hello, beautiful Lady. Did you have need of me?”  

She twittered at him and held a white fan up to hide her smile. “Yes, I vant to feel touch of your flame.” Her eyes danced with merriment.  

Cy grinned big at the statement. “And what flame did you want to experience?” He took a glance around. “There is a space there that I can flog you in. Though your hair is so lovely I would not want to ruin it” by setting it on fire. “So perhaps, if you were to bend over and let me work your ass?” 

That brought on another fit of giggles and the fan fluttered. She turned to her eager-looking companion and spoke rapidly in Draenei. It was a language Cy did not know so he waited patiently for her to turn back to him. “Yess, dat vould be pleasant. I vould like dis flame as vell.” She folds her fan up and gently taps it to the bulge of Cy’s jock.  

“Fire flogging and fucking, at your service.” Cy takes the hand not holding the fan and kissed her knuckles. “Shall we?”  

(there is more to the story, very much NSFW more. Ask if you want to be sent the full encounter)

@daily-writing-challenge @celedyn

[bikerfromthevoid]

🌺- Do they have any love interest(s)?

🌺: "Everyone so curious about my love life today! Yes~ A musician I met recently named Lynx. We met at one of his performances and we've had a date so far with plans for maybe more. And of course, I can't not mention @celedyn cause we had a wonderful time in Booty Bay, and he's going to pop my Pandaria Cherry!"

(Thank you for the ask~)

[bread-elf]

I heard that all the houseplants in your home are made of plastic because you refused to water the real ones and insisted that they would need to overcome their dependence if they wanted to prove their worth.

"What kind of rumor is that?! Does that really seem like something I'd do?! Ah, hrm-" She thinks about it. "Don't- Don't answer that. Though you seem to have forgotten the cactus Helsong and I acquired for our musical show. We still have it, it's grown since then. But I have a gardener that helps with our gardens and the houseplants!" (( Thanks @celedyn!))

#ask me

[keranna-zerine]

What is something Archmagistrix Sunmote would NEVER share about herself but also wouldn’t be cross with you for sharing?

"She can be a very silly, fun person when the rest of the world isn't watching. It's a part of her that's always been reserved for specific people and circumstances,

I hope that when she's able to find her way again she'll let that side out a bit more."

( Thanks @celedyn! )

[kaisinasunblade]

I spotted that little hint of pommel, when’s the last time you made use of that gun?

"When I defended myself against my father's men. In the five years I've been living in Ratchet, I've been lucky enough that I've not had to use it, though if it's a scent you caught of it. That would be because I always keep it on me, hidden. It's not an overly large pistol. It belonged to my mother. "

"I'm told I'm a very good shot. Growing up in Booty Bay, one tends to need to learn how to use one. That and knives, daggers, the normal."

@celedyn Thank you for the ask!

#Teatime Tusday

[noonmutter]

Breakdown

DWC August 2023 Day 1/2: Beginnings/Endings, Enchanted/Horror

"You know you'd be wonderful onstage!" "I would not." "You're doing that thing again, where you're modest for no reason." "I know fer a fact I would not, cuz ev'rytime I'm in front o' crowds, I 'ave a desp'rate need t' throw up."

---

"Just one teensy little whip routine." "Absolutely not." "I'd happily be your target so you're not alone and everything! Like the good, charitable elf I am!" "If y'wanna be whipped so bad I kin tie y' up in th' workshop in ten minutes." "Why are you so miserly with your myriad talents?" "Are we gonna actually test out some stuff t'day or not?"

---

"I heard someone humming in the shower…" "Don't." "It's almost like you do have a sense of melody in there somewhere!" "Tha' was a hallucination. You're hallucinatin'."

---

"I saw that." "Wot?" "That little flourish you just did on the backswing." "I did not flourish it--" "You do show off!"

---

"I know yer doin' it on purpose." "I'm sure I don't know what you could possibly be talking about. I'm over here doing my lashes." "Ev'ry single Tart I know 'as been tryna get me onstage at least once. Yer not special." "Well now you're just spreading falsehoods, but I'll forgive you this once."

---

"You know, I couldn't help but notice how insightful you were." "Hmn?" "In the gallery. Once you opened up, I thought it was going to be impossible to stop you speaking your mind, not that I'd ever want to!" "Well… y' did prod me. Kind of a lot." "And I'm very glad you took that prodding! It's always a treat to listen to you dive deep into that lyrical well of yours." "Um…" "Almost like you're absolutely brimful of creativity, just waiting for an excuse." "… Celedyn." "Or perhaps the right audience?" "Ohhh my godddd--"

---

"You even do it at your booth sometimes! Especially the big ones, you were doing it constantly at the Tournament of Ages!" "I am not an actor!" "Then what would you call that whole absurd persona you were putting on for your… shoe… thing?" "It was a bit!" "Leon, sweetheart, darling. Actors do bits. That's acting. You acted." "I was 'avin' fun!" "Acting can be fun." "DAGH!!"

---

"So you've gone and enriched yourself for another year or two. What's next?" "Not sure. I was thinkin' maybe it's time t' start lookin' fer a proper shop. Y'know, like a storefront?" "What, no other big events to work yourself into a stupor over? I'm shocked." "Nah. I think I wanna see wot restin' on my laurels feels like, yeah? We kin uh… kinda afford to, heh." "Marvelous! See, it just so happens that this year is a very important year for the Tarts--" "Are you kiddin' me--" "But it's our anniversary, kitten! You're a friend of the troupe, don't you think you could just--" "Y'know wot? Fine. Fine." "--one little--wait, what?" "Once, an' only once, if it'll make you stop, I will do a thin' onstage. Once." "Oh, Leon, fantastic! I've got so many--" "But." "Mmn?" "I get t' pick th' song." "Oh, well." Celedyn gave an exaggeratedly put-upon sigh, undercutting what little sincerity it had with the big shit-eating grin on his face. "I suppose I can make one little sacrifice for you, kitten." "Mm-hmm. I'll let y' know."

A week later, Celedyn received a letter with the Catty Crow seal on it. He was all smiles when he opened it, finding a few written pages and a recording crystal labelled 'play me.'

Ten minutes after that, he was leaving hysterical, shrieking messages on Leon's commstone. Leon chose not to answer, instead putting up his feet and watching the device dance across the coffee table while he drank his tea.

( @celedyn @daily-writing-challenge )

#my writing #dwc #leon #celedyn #I make NO promises #but who knows #maybe #someday #when I've strangled my anxiety and dumped it in a lake

[fio-renze]

if there was something lost to your past that you could pull into your present, what would it be? A place changed for the worst? A person? A past aspect of yourself that’s drifted away?

"I want my house back. The place my son is buried. My gardens, and sheep. To go back now would be legally trespassing. It's painful. I lived the majority of my life there, and now it's all gone."

( Thanks @celedyn! )

[celedyn]

Celedyn glides out on stage— quite literally, as he is perched atop a pair of roller skates with blue lights twinkling from the wheels. The high elf is dressed in a white short sleeve button down and a crisp, freshly pressed pair of booty shorts to match. 

Celedyn sets a white chest onto the stage and dramatically drops down atop it, lifting one hand to shade his eyes as he glowers at the sun. He withdraws a fan, but wafting hot air back into your face offers no relief and so it is flung away in disdain.

Celedyn lifts an eyebrow as he looks out over the crowd, spreading well toned thighs and smoothing one hand along the white case. He breaks into a grin and stands, turning to open it up. A cool fog rolls from the chest, kissing over the front row.

Celedyn retrieves a push-up popsicle, wiggling the stick between his fingers as he trails his tongue over a lip. He flicks off the cap, sending it skittering across the sandstone tile and pushes up a tantalizing little peek of sweet orange sherbet.

Celedyn  sets his eyes on %t, feigning scandal as he slowly pushes out the remaining length inch by inch. He catches a stray drip on his finger and kisses it off before standing with a cackle and gliding to hand him the only… slightly used treat. 

Celedyn grins impishly as he pushes off to roll backwards, lights flashing from the wheels of his skates as his legs weave behind one another. He suddenly whips around, turning his back to the audience as he returns to the chest. 

Celedyn steps his feet shoulder width apart and bends smoothly at the waist; taking his time as he rifles through the case. He pauses and takes hold of one of his own long legs, peering around it and over the crowd, mouthing along as if getting a head count. 

Celedyn stands back up to his full height and lifts the chest up by two straps, hanging them over his shoulders to let it rest on his hips. He withdraws a little paper soda jerk hat and neatly tucks it in place atop the soft platinum waves of his hair.

Celedyn gives a wink and smacks the heel of one roller skate on the ground— a glyph shining beneath it. Blue streaks from the wheels as he circles the stage once, legs weaving between one another to braid a criss-crossed ring of light behind him.

Celedyn stops center stage, digging both hands into the case before flinging two generous handfuls of popsicles out into the audience! Those that catch them find an assortment of characters, all terribly translated to popsicle form. 

Khadgar’s blue bubblegum eyes seem to no longer be on speaking terms, roaming out near the sides of his head like a goldfish, and Illidan’s smirk has wandered too high, scant millimeters below his nose with acres of chin beneath.

Filling Nat Pagle with gummy fish was well intended, but a few of them have managed to poke up through his face like a horrible new pox; and Cho’s eyes have merged into one single cyclopian shape with a gum ball situated perfectly in the center. 

Broxigar’s candied tusks have abandoned his mouth entirely and settled so low in his beard that they nearly fall off his chin; and Magni is just a block of unflavored ice… that’s… probably a mistake? The wrapper does state that it’s sugar free…

Celedyn rolls back center stage and pulls out a treat for himself, a long popsicle in a rainbow of colors. He makes a show of plucking away the wrapper, and gives the audience a coy wink before dragging his tongue in a slow, sultry trail up its length. 

Celedyn holds up one finger, signaling the audience to wait. He turns his face skyward, lifting the popsicle up high before lowering it into his throat like a sword swallower.

Celedyn pulls the popsicle back out with a flourish and takes a triumphant bow. As he stands back up he realizes that disaster of disasters! It has dripped to leave a bright stain on his shirt! He lifts a hand to cover his perfectly shocked mouth.

Celedyn pouts at the stain, trying to brush at it. The motion only causes him to stamp a fresh popsicle stain on the other side. He gasps in horror, his expression utterly dismayed before a thought seems to strike him as he toys with a button…

Celedyn crams the popsicle back into his mouth and skates to once more turn his back on the audience. They can see the fabric of his tailored shirt loosening, slumping as the buttons are undone.

Celedyn lets the shirt drop below meticulously sculpted shoulders. He gives a coy glance back at the audience before spitting out the bare popsicle stick, sending it skipping across the stones to land near %t ’s feet with a playful wink.

Celedyn turns as he whips the shirt off fully, twirling it over his head with a laugh before he flings it out into the audience to flutter down above %t ‘s head.

Celedyn lifts his arms up over his head as he lets the momentum lead him into a spin, indulgently showing off his physique. His hands drift down, brushing his shoulders, his pecs, his abs; spins giving way to a backwards spiral that grows steadily larger.

Celedyn opens up the case once more and retrieves a dance fan with a long shimmering trail of ice blue silk. As he rolls alongside the audience he flicks it, blowing more of the cool, refreshing fog out into the crowd.

Celedyn returns center stage and gives a tight spin, the silk trail obscuring him at first, then twisting itself around his torso, falling into a delicate drape as he snaps to a stop and gives one final, triumphant pose.

Celedyn bows to the left, curtsies to the right, and blows a kiss to the center before he rolls off stage, wafting a little of the cool fog onto Konietzko with a wink as he passes. 

#performance #succulent tart #celedyn

[dicenne]

What lead you to learning Zandali? Was it for a particular somebody special in your life?

"It was, actually! I dated a Darkspear troll for a while, and while she could speak Orcish I thought it would be nice to learn her own language. I had already known some, I try to dabble in a variety of languages since my shop caters to a variety of races. Zandali was definitely a more difficult one to pick up, but in my opinion it's one of the most beautiful.

Clearly things didn't work out between she and I, which is probably for the best, but I learned a lot from her."

ty @celedyn

#ama

[straightouttatheashes]

I heard a rumor that you were spotted browsing about a lingerie shop! Do you usually shop for your own personal tastes, or do you like to take your intended audience into account?

"Oh, dude, I love shopping for lingerie. I've actually had a bunch of comissioned peices from Sewn in Sin too. I mean, sometimes I think of my intended audience for certain peices, but most of the time I wear what I want, y'know? Ain't gonna flaunt something I actively don't really like. Why? Wanna go lingerie shoppin with me?" ty @celedyn

#asks #answers