#Raerys Performance

[magussanctorium-if]

(may be updated as the story progresses)

Name: Feraluth Sproutlight (fair-uh-looth sprout light) Age: 18 Gender: Nonbinary (they/them) Status: Nobility Hometown: The Tilled Plains, The Iseadesh Alliance Rank: Vice-Leader Natural Strength: Abjuration Natural Weakness: Evocation Weapon: Bows/Light Weapons Bonus Skill: Armored Combat Bio: Feraluth is the calm to Casithar's chaos. They're sensitive and smart. Hardworking and earnest. They're nobility with their mother being part of the Iseadesh Alliance's High Council. They have the tendency to be a bit of a perfectionist and workaholic, though. Image References: Pending...

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Name: Raeris Wooltore (rare-is wool tore) Age: 20 Gender: Male (he/him) Status: Nobility Hometown: The Indigo Springs, The Iseadesh Alliance Rank: First House Prefect Natural Strength: Transmutation Natural Weakness: Divination Weapon: Bows/Light Weapons Bonus Skill: Leadership Bio: Raeris is sociable and outgoing. He flits from one interest to another, accumulating a vast wealth of knowledge. He's nobility through his mother, who is on the Iseadesh Alliance's High Circle. His current interest is in theater and performing. Image References: Pending...

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Name: Tylihn Wheatsong (tie-lynn wheat song) Age: 20 Gender: Female (she/her) Status: Nobility Hometown: The Harvest Fields, The Iseadesh Alliance Rank: Second House Prefect Natural Strength: Enchantment Natural Weakness: Illusion Weapon: Polearms Bonus Skill: Mounted Combat Bio: Tylihn is a fairly stand-offish person. She's aloof and a bit shy, preferring to keep to herself or her house members. She is nobility as her father is on the Iseadesh Alliance's High Circle. Despite her chilly demeanor, she actually enjoys fashion and gossiping. She has a subscription to Pentagiim's gossip tabloid. Image References: Pending...

[raevan-muns-supercut]

Speakeasy Performance - Raerys

https://youtu.be/WqawqSF4xs8 - Music Under the cover of the darkened stage, one by one small footlights pop to life, illuminating four figures. Their silhouettes reveal very little: two seated guitar players, stand-up bass and to the fore of the stage, a well-known violin settled gently against a tall microphone stand. Across the stage from the right strolls in Raerys wearing a black sheer over black silk dress covered in angled patterns of sequins and beads in royal, black and silver. Draped loose about her figure, the dress swings, cutting just below the knee. Along that hem, a fringe of inky beads dances about the tops of her rolled white stockings with every step. Her bright red hair is pulled up in loose curls, wrapped in a swath of shimmering blue silk and tied in an untidy bow. From her ears, dangle diamonds and sapphires. Poised in one hand is a long cigarette holder, cigarette smoldering from its end. One guitar begins to play a single and tremulous chord building anticipation. Raerys’ long legs and lean figure sway as she approaches the resting violin and the mic. Taking a quick drag from her cigarette she turns on a heel to face the audience. All is quite as she exhales a thick plume of smoke and begins to slowly sing, in a tone whiskey kissed and low. “A certain maid I know is so afraid her beau will never ask her, will she name the day. He calls on her each night and when she dims the light It's ten to one that you will hear her say…” The second guitar jumps in as well as the bass, the slow lead-in recedes and the tune turns swift and swank, a foot tapper for sure. Raerys gives her hips a shake, beaded fringe of her dress following suit as she and her accompaniests barrel head-on into the song. "Oh Joseph, Joseph won't cha make your mind up.

It's time I knew just how I stand with you.

My heart's no clock that I can stop and wind up.

each time we make-up after being through." Raerys punctuates the end of the first refrain with another swift drag from her dainty cigarette holder, reaching out to the audience with her free hand before setting it upon one hip, and leaning into the mic for the second stanza of the refrain. "So listen Joseph, Joseph time is fleeting,

and here and now my hair is turning grey.

My mother has a fear, wedding bells I'll never hear.

Joseph, Joseph won't you name the day." As the last line skates across her tongue, Raerys drops the cigarette holder to the stage, stamps out the ember with a jaunty twist of a blue velvet shoe and dips to pick up Romeo and his bow. Settling the violin against her neck, and holding it more so in a fiddler’s grip, she draws the bow across the strings. Her long fingers curve over the rosewood, pressing a chord as the bow saws across two strings at a time. A folksy double-stop sound mingles with the guitar, though the notes are pure jazz. In a flash, her supple digits and Romeo are off, a soaring solo that jabs and dodges the guitars as Raerys and her backups roll into a rollicking exposition on the melody. She closes her eyes and leans back into it, bow arm never still while one foot taps out the rhythm. The notes spiral up and swing down low and Raerys seems to follow their lead. Her feet swivel and she lowers her figure, knees bent until she nearly touches the floor. Her glittering dress and sassy beaded hem dust the top of her shoes, all while she and Romeo continue to play. When they are drawn up once more by the song she stands straight, a slight sheen of perspiration across her cheeks and nose. A broad and cheeky smile dons her face, as she and her violin draw back into the shadows and light falls upon the solo guitarist. An illusionary man, grizzled and dressed in a ill-fit tuxedo emerges from the darkness, his dark tanned fingers prancing up and down the fretboard, while his plucking fingers tease even more out of the tune. The sound is reminiscent of the melodies of the Traveling folk, the sort of thing one might hear around a low burning fire, circled by colorful wagons. The notes float up like little motes of fire from the scene, buoyed by crisp night-time air. The illusion plays on, though slowly falls back into darkness as Raerys steps once more to the mic, Romeo in hand. Leaning in, she sings again, her voice playfully chiding, her eyes glimmering with mirth and knowing. "Oh Joseph, Joseph won't cha make your mind up.

It's time I knew just how I stand with you.

My heart's no clock that I can stop and wind up

each time we make-up after being through." This time as she sings, she continues to play. Turning slightly into the microphone, Romeo cradled to her chin, and bow skipping meaningfully over the strings. The beat and the melody takes residence in her, her tall figure all but dancing as she rounds into the last stanza of the song. "So listen Joseph, Joseph time is fleeting,

and here and now my hair is turning grey.

my mother has a fear, wedding bells I'll never hear

Joseph, Joseph won't you name the day.

Oh Joseph, Joseph won't you name the day!” Joseph, Joseph won't you name the daaay!" Raerys’ voice rises, the last lyric held long and loudly, while the band behind her slowly fades. Romeo has his due, warbling out the last snatches of song, with playfulness and a thoughtful touch of melancholy. @succulent-tart, @ouroandar, @trisandrah

[meritsymposium]

Night One - Done!

A huge thank-you to everyone who came out tonight to listen to our presentations! To Tazjiin, Myron, and Rhillia- thank you for being tonight's speakers and sharing with us!

A big thank you to Blackdawn Initiative, Legacy of Suramar, The Eversong Ensemble, Gilded Ivory Cartel, and Kunbo Kettleclaw for supporting us as guild recruiters and vendors!

And finally, thank you to Rhillia and Caletha from The Eversong Ensemble, and Perchedon and Raerys from Succulent Tart for lovely performances; thank you to Heart of the Raven for a beautifully-done banquet that made us all hungry OOC!

We'll see y'all tomorrow as we'll be starting promptly at 4ST- no Opening Ceremonies, just straight into our lectures and classes. Come ready to learn!

@kiellanis @rhilliainferniel @eversongensemble @heartoftheravenwra @legacyofsuramar @succulent-tart

[ourcollectivefantasy]

Iloam - Love Thing

Name: Iloam Blacksong

Nickname: Loam, Prince of Flaws, Red, “Pretty,” Father Gender: Male Romantic Orientation: Pansexual Preferred Pet Names: Red is the only one he doesn’t mind.  Relationship Status: Dating Aelberyn & Jericho Bloodsword. Dating Rethelia Fallowtide. Married to (but separated) from Kharris Dawndancer-Blacksong. @rethelia @kharrisdawndancer

Favorite Canon Ship: Iloam’s fave couple is Lysonde & Calanus Riverblade, performance dancers for The Succulent Tart. He started out as just a fan of theirs in the audience, but they introduced themselves to him one night after a show and they’ve been both friends and lovers ever since. They are both great people individually and as a couple. @stormofmercy @riverblade

Favorite Non-Canon Ship: They might be lovers, and he doesn’t know either way, but Iloam ships Raerys & Tris pretty consistently and would be chuffed to hear if those two just went for it. @raerys-songbrook @trisandrah 

Opinion on True Love:  “True Love are someone tha yeh can trust more’n yeh trust yerself. It aren’t someone yeh would die or kill fer, but someone yeh would stay alive forever fer.”

Opinion on Love at First Sight: “It depends. Tha’s usually jest yer cock, but t’ere are forces in t’e Universe tha we dunnae ken.”

How ‘Romantic’ are they?: “I aren’t really? Nae in a traditional sense like Blue. I try ta take notice o’ t’ings I ken t’ey like an put in extra effort ta show I took time fer t’em.”

Ideal Physical Traits: (Type 1 - F) Long dark hair, pale skin, gothy, thin or frail. (Type 2 - F) Blonde hair, athletic, long legs, perky nose. (Type 3 - M) Tall, extremely muscular, broad shoulders, big arms, highly masc, short beard/goatee. Prefers dark hair, but can also be “silver fox” or blonde. (In general) Tattoos, piercings, freckles, graceful hands, great ass, small tits, alto voices, plush mouths.

Ideal Personality Traits:  Highly Intelligent, confident, powerful. Prefers scientific, studious, or medically minded. Great sense of humor, sense of adventure, enjoys travel. Gravitates towards people with above average talent in whatever they pursue (sailors, dancers, musicians, artisans, etc). 

Unattractive Physical Traits: Bad teeth, protruding bones (tusks don’t count) or exposed rotting flesh, really bad hair cuts, unkempt/unclean, oily skin, unpleasant smell. Especially dislikes men with long, unclipped nails or nails with dirt under them. 

Ideal Date: Backstage passes to an indie concert at a small/mid-size venue to see a local punk band. Pre-game party before the show. Free flowing drugs & booze backstage. Blowjob in the balcony between sets. Sitting on the street after the show chain smoking thissle, drunk, and eating street vendor food at 2AM. Fucking in the back alley. Tumbling home and going for a few more rounds until the sun comes up.  

Do they have a type?: See above. 

Average Relationship Length: When actually committed? Either 1-3 years or it lasts forever. 

Preferred Non-Sexual Intimacy: Reading outloud to his partner, playing music and singing for them, comfortable silence while working but in each other’s company, letting his partner sleep or cuddle on him.

Commitment Level: Once a commitment is established, extremely high. Iloam has never been the one to break up from any partner. That said, he’s also not that commitment inclined? It takes a very special person/gut feeling to make him consider it as an option.

Opinion of Public Affection: In others, it doesn’t bother him at all. Fuck in front of him, he doesn’t care. For himself, he actually tends to not show much PDA. It’s usually the people he’s NOT standing next to or flirting with at a party that he’s actually fucking behind closed doors. He’s very private.

Past Relationships?: 

Very early relationship with Tylien Sunstorm. Youthful, optimistic, athletic blonde. Attempt to “be normal” and “fit in” - rejection of his sociopathy and serial killing urges. Failed on his side of things, broke her heart. She married a total jock hunter type pretty quickly after. 

A long and passionate affair with Ixinane Stormcren. Never official. On and off-again. HIGHLY tempestuous & violent. Shared a soul for a time - can still feel each other when near. She often dissapears from his life for long periods and shows up unexpectantly. Adopted-Mother to Halodante, his only victim to escape  @stormcren @halodante

An enemy-turned-lover dark love affair with Marquis Ythgar Vinguld. Captured, tortured, raped, broken and Stokholm-Syndrome gaslighted. Ashamed of latent homosexuality, Ythgar dumped Iloam and married his beard instead. Now estranged. Iloam secretly visits every Winter’s Viel to check on his health & well being.

Collared D/s relationship with Lain Duskhollow. Highly violent, indulgent in every self-destructive behavior possible. Murder team. Turned to power imbalance as Lain lost control to the void and sank into complete madness and loss of self. Iloam blames himself and carries tremendous guilt and self-hatred for death/disappearance of Lain’s brother, lovers, and unborn child - as well as what happened to Lain himself. @laindarkhilt 

Tagged by: @ellwelune

Tagging: @duskwrath @selysona-wra @cyrolar-riverblade @smith-hadeon @riverblade @audemus-dawnspark @orliando @arkhos-ravenscar @saeil-moonblade @lilliwhitedawn

[arandori]

"Do you get a big rush out of performing? You really look like you do when you're up there strutting around." Kaereah

“Yeah, sure! I mean…there’s something to be said about being up on stage and all eyes on you. It’s quite the rush.”

Thanks! @raerys-songbrook @thescarletlettered

[seraphai]

A Time for Words, A Time for Sleep

Sleep was an elusive but glorious thing. When it found her, she slept hard. It had taken months for her to be able to actually sleep with Zay, whether at her place or his. She never really found it odd that they’d stay up all night, talking and well...not talking.

The first time it had happened, she woke up, curled against him, and he was sitting up, leaned against the headboard, wide awake. She never questioned, they each kept their own secrets. The late-night comm talks had given that much up. He’d dozed off during a few of the more inconsequential, trivial talks but not in her presence.

The sun was rising as she stirred, her arm draped over a sleeping Zayneth. Lately, Sunday mornings had consisted of visits to Fairbreeze and some of Lyn’s bread and conversation. She considered running out to get a loaf, but as she lay next to him, couldn’t quite pull herself away.

Instead, she thought of all the things he’d confided in her the night before. It started with his second performance of the night, to her and Raerys.  His own secrets. Things made sense now. Things she’d questioned but would never press, even though her curiosity ate at her. It was a hard thing for her, to deny herself the possibility of learning more. Little nuggets of who Zayneth was.

Rarely did they ask each other questions, instead allowing the other to slowly open up. Last night was a little different. He seemed ready to share things and even offered her the opportunity to ask questions. There were times he’d seemed completely vulnerable. He’d seemed more optimistic than in the past.

As they lay there this morning, she reached up and petted fingers along his jaw, lightly scraping over the stubble and processed it all. In the end, it still remained that he was who he was. Not much more mattered.

She had long since stopped trying to cipher out her feelings. As she closed her eyes, her hand remained against his cheek. The only thing she knew, or cared about, was there were two people, other than herself, that she’d kill for. He was one of them.

@glass-phoenix (for the vagues @raerys-songbrook , for the mentions @gloamingdawn )

[raevan-muns-supercut]

Succulent Tart ~ Speakeasy Raerys Songbrook

DON’T MISS IT!  - FLYER LINK TONIGHT!

@succulent-tart​

[raevan-muns-supercut]

Raerys Songbrook - Trick or Tease Performance

( Music: Chopin’s Nocturne in C#Minor - by Joshua Bell)

With the introduction made, the stage darkens. A long silence inserts itself, holding up against the expectant sounds of the crowd. Against the backdrop a cool, autumn moon rises. Its light illuminates the white barked sentinels of Birch, Aspen and Ash. Up the silvery sphere floats, until the russet, gold and earthy brown of the forest’s frost kissed canopy comes into view. At last there is sound, but it is first of only wind, perhaps the suggestion of crunching leaves, many of which dapple the darkened stage-floor.  A great gust of wind whistles through the trees, stirring the leaves and cooling the faces of the audience. Upon its heels comes a tentative swell of strings. The shadowy form of a witch darts between the bone-colored trunks, making for a growing mote of moonlight at center stage. Each motion of the figure is timed to the orchestral sighs, adding to the note of hesitancy. 

Raerys steps into the moon’s beam at last, hunched and peering about the illusionary forest, furtive and unsettled. Her dress flutters in the breeze, black silk shimmering in the cold light from above. Atop her head a curled hat of felted wool, the shade of ink. Her hair the color of crows’ wings, shifts about her shoulders. In her hand a familiar object, an ancient violin, who this night wears his own guise; burnished silver -  as cold and unforgiving as the moon’s light above. 

Looking up into the moon-touched canopy of leaves above, Raerys lifts Romeo, fitting him to her chin, bow hand rising with the taut and rosin’ touched horsehair poised and at the ready. There is a pause, just a breath really, and then in unison to a gently plucked harp, the violinist begins. Slow and sensually, she draws the bow across the strings, her dark figure bending back, while she works the strings at the fingerboard. A soft trill escapes the violin, the sound almost visible as it winds around the player and settles among the leafy carpet at her feet. Rocking forward slightly, her fingers and the bow reach the upper range of notes, the sound stirring the leaves below and above. A few fall from the canopy and a few lift up from the darkness, buoyant. While she plays on, they mingle in the cool night air, dancing on the eddies of music and autumn breeze.  

Raerys spins upon her feet, playing still and the leaves follow her, floating and tumbling flags of yellow, gold, orange and umber red. Each one curls and twirls in to its own delight, while holding yet like a flock of  birds, gathering to head for warmer climes. Directed by the flow of notes, they whirl one way and then the other, gathering companions and dancing ever higher into the chill air, that wafts about the violinist. Raerys’ fingers move with purpose and precision along the rosewood fingerboard; the bow kissing the strings either lightly or firmly, deepening the sound, or giving it the alluring touch of a whisper.  Up the notes go, another soft trill sending the enchanted leaves to whirling, and then down the notes fall while Raerys sways, much as they do, caught in the magic of the beguiling melody. On the heels of a low swing of notes, the violinist dips at her knees, then kicks out gently sending another waft of grounded alpine finery in all directions, some seeking upwards to join the dance, while others are lost to the darkness and the cloaking sweep of her long black dress. As she rises, waltzing within that wide circle of moon-lit space among the trees.   Raerys plays with the melody, enticing the ensorceled leaves to flutter; earthy-hued moths to her musical and moonlight flame. Merrily they pair-up, mimicking her playful steps; like harvest ball dancers in the season’s best colors. Leaning into the melody, Raerys slowly spins, the leaves fall in once more, first low about her knees then rising in a great swirl; a seasonal smudge of colors. Still she plays, bow first slow, then sharp back and forth, rosin glittering in the pale glow of the violin. The growing spiral of leaves begin to meld into a sinuous cone about her figure that reaches high above and into the night. Just as they might reach an apex, the violinist calls them back, the notes low and heavy, weighing them down. Some rebel, popping up, attempting to catch an errant high note, to sneak into the soft and lofty backing accompaniment of strings, but the “Witch” will have none of it. Bending slightly at the waist, Raerys follows the bass notes down, subduing the recalcitrant leaves.

Stillness, absolute inserts itself, begging the question if the leaves had ever truly moved, but then the “Witch” and violinist teases them with a slow and low brush of the bow. They shimmer and shiver in the moonlight, eager to once more take flight. A playful smirk draws across the “Witch’s” sooty colored lips, rising up once more, her bow dances across the strings, hurried and anxious.

The pitch of the violin rises and rises, then peaks, while the leaves speed upwards, their light little bodies shivering in delight. The note is long held, the bow moving so slowly over that highest note, until  the audience might fear that the leafy dancers will fall apart. 

But then silence. They are held motionless in the air, in that bare empty sound. And then, the “Witch” sways and her bow again slides across the strings, freeing them.  Their dance begins anew; whirling to the ground, tumbling in tiny spirals until they whirl about her knees. 

The notes roll, up and down, the melody resuming in the original theme. Free to rollic upon the song’s lilting scales, they climb and curl in pairs and moresomes, working themselves into another  tightening cone of grace and autumnal glamour. 

The “Witch” waltzes about the pool of light, drawing her leafy entourage side to side, right, then left, back and forth. As the notes rise and fall, so too their spiral, marked by soaring peaks and gentle rolling valleys. When she twirls, Romeo in hand, the leaves double back, swirling the other way. The “Witch’s” tune beings to fade, the violin’s volume waning. The leaves become restive, their once excited twirling and swirling transform. They swing to and fro, pendulous in the air, falling further until they one by one settle once more to the forest’s inky floor. <fin> @succulent-tart

[raevan-muns-supercut]

Raerys Songbrook Performance         Succulent Tart - Carnival

From the darkness of the stage an illusion emerges. Nighttime on a brightly lit carnival midway takes shape. There are games and booths all draped in strings of colored lights. The path between them filled with patrons in pairs and groups, all moving from amusement to amusement.   In the background a figure strides forward, luminescent against the darkness and the gaudy scenery. The crowd seems to split before her. Raerys wanders into the main stage lights, dressed in a charming summer dress of rich velvet blue, sleeveless and without ornamentation. Cut just above her knees it sways over heavy crinoline, airy, smooth and light as a night time breeze. There is no violin, no case, nothing but the young woman with her hair pulled back into a youthful ponytail, small pearl earrings in her ears and a sorrowful half smile upon her lips.

A swell of slow and nostalgia drenched music ushers on her last few steps toward center stage, where a microphone stands lonesome in the spotlight. Reaching for it with trembling hands the woman closes her eyes and sways moved upon the melody. Percussion begins, setting a lazy tempo and Raerys hums into the microphone low and sweet.  Her first notes are breathy and a touch uncertain. She wore blue velvet Bluer than velvet was the night Softer than satin was the light From the stars

The heel of her right foot, bounces, keeping time with the instrumentation’s purposeful cadence. Lifting her arms she gathers breath and emotive gravity, the words and melody carrying her along despite her fear. Raerys brings down her arms slowly, her hands reaching out to touch the mic stand, eyes honing in upon the audience for a moment. Leaning into the mic she sings, voice filled with yearning and melancholy. She wore blue velvet Bluer than velvet were her eyes Warmer than May, her tender sighs Love was ours

Raerys drags her fingers up the stand, clutching at its chrome for a moment, her eyes once more falling closed. Each word comes from some well of feeling, her face soft and vulnerable as the melody and the tender tone of her voice. Looking out into the night with a smoldering gaze, she grows closer to the mic and stand, almost cradling it with one hand she takes a slow, deep breath and turns her attentions to the audience. Ours a love I held tightly Feeling the rapture grow Like a flame burning brightly But when she left, gone was glow of

Her grip upon the microphone eases, painted nails tracing down its spine as if caressing some unseen lover. Both instrument and voice mingle, carrying the melody forward, churning the emotions in the sound and the lyric. As the music rolls into the final verse she is at full steam, comfort and confidence apparent in her posture. Emotion and love of the song in the expressiveness of her gestures and the growing sway of her tall figure. Blue velvet But in my heart there'll always be Precious and warm a memory Through the years Raerys closes her eyes once again, love of the song clear on her face. And I still can see blue velvet through my tears

@succulent-tart

[raevan-muns-supercut]

Succulent Tart - After Dark Performance Wear

Raerys Songbrook - Succulent Tart  Performance Wear for “Tarts After Dark.”

It’s that time of year where the Succulent Tart Troupe has our annual Tarts after Dark show!  With all of the performances being more adult in nature we are limiting access to our invite system.  So, for the safety of ourselves and our viewers we ask that anyone who wishes to join us, please fill out our Age of Consent form found here —> https://tinyurl.com/TaD-AgeofConsent

Like many of our shows, we will also be offering prizes for both horde and alliance folks and offering free drinks from the menu below all evening long. We look forward to seeing you there!

Just like always, if you make up a outfit board for what you’re going to wear, make sure you tag the tart tumblr page so we can show off all the wonderful outfits people are wearing!

@wracentral @the-royal-courier @wraconnect @wowrpevents@wrahordeevents

Go sign the thing if you want to join!

Cross-faction and cross-server friendly!

[raevan-muns-supercut]

Raerys Songbrook - After Dark Performance

(( Music: https://youtu.be/zx_dTSPzXlk))

About the darkened stage foot lights pop on, one at a time. Cool light filters of arcane blue circle the still mote of spotlight-white, where Raerys stands. While the stage unfolds in harsh hues of night: black, white and silver, so too the songstress with her long crimson curls tamed to lush waves which flow over one shoulder. Orchestral swelling begins as that first light pops on, then recedes as ponderous notes are played upon a piano well out of sight. Pale and statuesque she sways in that light, black and white diamonds at her ears, neck and wrists, sheer black silk billows on a simulated breeze. Beneath the silk, starkly revealed in the cold splash of light, are dark lace small clothes, concealing her tastefully, while taking nothing away from her allure. Raerys grips the tall silver microphone stand, long fingers curling about its head, breath rolling from her in steamy little pants.  She casts her gaze downward, dragging the sound of her voice from deep within, and as the words and melody come forth, she lifts her eyes, fixing them upon some faraway point. 

“Every Saturday night I get dressed up to ride for you, baby Cruising down the street on Auger’s Row and Vine for you, baby I drive fast, wind in my hair, push it to the limits 'cause I just don't care You ask me where I've been? I been everywhere I don't wanna be nowhere but here..” 

As she sings the drums sneak up, as well as the bass, dropping a hot throbbing rhythm into the melody, like a lust tweaked pulse. She releases the mic, graceful arcs of her arms draw her hands to those long red tresses, threading fingers through, tossing them as the wind might. Raerys reaches out, pulls the mic close to her mouth, dark red lips nearly caressing that chrome bulb. Heavily shaded lashes lower, her voice soft and intimate as a whisper. “Come on tell me boy…” The lights pulse around the stage, color swiftly changing from cold white to a hot, raw, red. The sheer dress, catches the garish light, filtering it until her skin seems made of flame and fantasy. Raerys sings out the chorus, each line echoing that lingering whisper, repeating like a mantra of unrequited need. “I've got a burning desire for you, baby I've got a burning desire, come on tell me boy I've got a burning desire for you, baby I've got a burning desire, come on tell me boy I drive fast, wind in my hair, push it to the limits 'cause I just don't care I've got a burning desire for you, baby I've got a burning desire”

The sound drops back to atmospherics and piano, while Raerys hugs that mic stand close to her body. One long leg, drags up its length, back arching as her hips roll forward. Long black heel catches the light, red sole flashing. Down her back flows her molten locks, the light temperature dropping once more into that harsh cold, black and white. She stands out, with crimson lips and hair, sooty shaded lashes batting. “Every Saturday night I seem to come alive for you, baby Court of the Sun, I'm racing in the lights for you, baby..”

The drums and bass throb to life, lights flaring once more to that ruddy hue of want and abandon. Raerys spins out, skirt swirling about her leggy figure, hand sliding down from breast to groin, back arching steeply and mic held in a bent arm grip. “I drive fast, radio blares, have to touch myself to pretend you're there Your hands were on my hips, your name is on my lips Over’n over again, like my only prayer Come on tell me boy...”

Raerys slides back to the mic, skirt and one pointed toe slowly following suit. Looking back out at the audience she reluctantly lets go of the mic. Slow fingers with bloody nails trail over it like fine velvet, caressing almost worshipful. Dropping down, knees bent slightly she grips the stand at its center point and with the same delicate motions of her fingers swivels her hips as she comes back up, once more ghosting that mic with the faintest of lippy service. “I've got a burning desire for you, baby I've got a burning desire, come on tell me boy I've got a burning desire for you, baby I've got a burning desire, come on tell me boy I drive fast, wind in my hair, push it to the limits 'cause I just don't care I've got a burning desire for you, baby I've got a burning desire...”

Raerys’ smoldering gaze roams the crowd, seeking that pair of hard peridot eyes that made her heart pound and her flesh quiver. Forgetting the mic, she reaches out, fingers seeming to part the faces of crowd like smoky veils. She shakes out her hair, and a hot wind blows through the crowd, licking hungrily at their skin. Her voice falls into that breathy pant, chest rising and falling as her cheeks burn and her hips shift with unresolved tension. “I'm driving fast, flash, everyone knows it I'm trying to get to you, baby I'm feeling scared and you know it I'm driving fast, flash, everyone knows it I'm trying to get to you, baby I'm feeling scared and you know it”

Raerys leans back into the mic, hands clutching it greedily, body sinuous and flickering against it. The words cycle back through, a chant, a hymn, spoken softy, an endless prayer uttered on a tremulous voice. “I'm driving fast, flash, everyone knows it I'm trying to get to you, baby I'm feeling scared and you know it I'm driving fast, flash, everyone knows it I'm trying to get to you, baby I'm feeling scared and you know it...” Though fear is mentioned, not a bit of it shows upon the woman’s dreamy face. Piquant its flavor, the want of it shines upon her features, dances in the bump and grind of her hips, and lilts through her needy voice.

When the chorus comes back around, her fingers relinquish the mic once more, trailing down her figure from shoulders to hips, eyes closed and face alight with ecstasy.  “I've got a burning desire for you, baby I've got a burning desire, come on tell me boy I've got a burning desire for you, baby I've got a burning desire, come on tell me boy I drive fast, wind in my hair, push it to the limits 'cause I just don't care I've got a burning desire for you, baby I've got a burning desire...”

The lights dim one by one, the enraptured singer slowly fading into darkness with it, the only remnant of her presence, a heated panting breath repeated into nothing.

[raevan-muns-supercut]

Raerys Songbrook - Fire Fest

Performing Friday Night!

Succulent Tart is proud to announce our fourth annual Fire Fest!  

Join us for performances, vendors, raffles, dance parties and fireworks!

When: Friday, June 21st, 5-10PM & Saturday, June 22nd, 4-10PM WrA server Where: Ma’rat, Uldum

If you would link to sign up to have a merchant vendor or guild booth at this event, please click —-> Here!

Keep an eye on the Fire Fest Tumblr for more details to come, please click —-> Here to follow it!

For more info or questions, feel free to contact @andijelly or @selysona-wra

[raevan-muns-supercut]

The Merit Symposium Raerys Songbrook Of Succulent Tart

Performance and Attendance wear for  The Merit Symposium! Tonight! 

[raevan-muns-supercut]

The Blooming!

Raerys Songbrook making her vocal performance debut!

At The Blooming!