Arandori @arandori - Tumblr Blog

DWC February 2026 - Day 7 - Murder

Nahi killed it…

She needed this night, needed the win that the two shows she had managed to pull off represented. She had not performed since New Year’s, and sometimes, after you do something for so long, you forget the true joy that goes into doing it.

In a little snarky moment that only she would understand, her set for the Tirisfal Theatre Troupe show was based entirely on her family. She sang a song her mother used as a warm-up, so it was always around her, and it meant that if her mother was singing it, she would have a level of safety and time to go off and do what she wanted.

The second was that little song she wrote about her father being the non-committal type, the same as she was. Sleeping with the same friend-with-benefits more than once was really as close to a relationship as she had come. It had mostly been out of fear when she was younger, and that carried through many, many years until she began building this new normal around herself.

Last was something she had written to perform a few years back. It explored the effect of dementia on a person and those who loved them, but it seemed apropos after her mother’s death and the tie-in with other family connections through the songs. They were all very well received, and she even had a few people linger to talk to her, which was always nice.

It meant she had a little less time to get to the Red Moon. She was as quick as she could manage, especially with having to style her hair. Nahi could have used a wig, but it just felt right to do it herself. Used to quick changes for the stage, she was ready to go to get her there just in time.

She actually arrived just before opening and slipped through the back entrance, stealing a canapé from the kitchen with a conspiratorial wink to the sous chef she met earlier. Beyond the kitchen doors, the club hummed with pre-opening energy, staff making little adjustments: candles being lit, silk drapery being straightened and tied back perfectly. This was not yet her moment, so she retreated to a quiet place to watch the opening.

Nahi let her eyes wander, picking out people she knew in the crowd. As when he went to the gallery opening with her, seeing Xylaes in a suit made her pulse quicken. He looked just as good as he had that night, and the memory made her smile. After spending time with him in the dangerous shadows of the hookah lounges of Murder Row and seeing him here, he never seemed out of place. He was in control. He owned his space.

Dori, radiant in emerald, worked the room with effortless command. Emceeing was often mishandled; she made it look easy and smooth. Her wit walked a line just above flirtation, her warmth genuine and perfect for the setting. Watching someone in their element was its own pleasure, and Dori seemed perfect for this.

Fio looked stunning in tailored pants and a sheer blouse, giving off just the right hint of I am in charge. She moved through the room extinguishing small crises, the natural state of any event organizer, and with so many moving pieces on a night like this, she was in constant demand. Nahi had already spent time with her earlier that day while walking the stage and choreographing her songs, so there was no need to compete for her attention now. Staff slipped in and out of rooms, cubbies, and kitchens, emerging only to murmur updates or fresh complications at Fio’s shoulder.

When Stellan took the stage, Nahi could not help but admire him. She had always been attracted to him, but this side was something else entirely. The scout who had always made her feel safer in camp, knowing he was watching over them, had morphed into a charismatic, seductive flirt, and it surprised her enough that she stared at him for a while, which equated to his entire set.

She had eaten some of the passed canapés and had asked Serazhen to keep hot water with lemon and honey ready for her instead of alcohol. After her operatic choice to start the night, she didn’t want to falter on the stage that mattered most to her.

When it was her turn, she moved into place with deliberate calm, stepping into the circle of light as though it had been waiting for her and technically it had. The spotlight poured over her cream-and-silver cocktail dress, catching on the subtle sheen of the fabric and igniting the delicate fringe at the hem. Each measured step sent it brushing against her thighs, a soft shimmer of movement that promised the playfulness she would open her set with.

The neckline framed her collarbones cleanly, leaving room for the amethyst necklace she had chosen. The stones caught the light in flashes of violet that rivaled her eyes, it was a bold contrast against the pale elegance of the dress. Matching earrings brushed her jaw when she turned her head, scattering color into the darkened room.

For a suspended moment before the music began, she stood still and let herself breathe. The hum of the room softened in her ears. The nervous energy that had lived in her chest all evening settled into something steadier, something controlled. She knew how she looked, she was polished and commanded attention. Entirely at home beneath the light.

The set went amazingly, and she was buzzed from the adrenaline high. Moving through the room, she talked with people and was about to find her corner again when someone caught her eye.

It couldn’t be him. He was dead, wasn’t he? Why now? It had been more than thirty years since she had last seen him. Why here, of all places?

Fortunately, her role at the opening did not require sustained engagement, only brief, charming exchanges to promote the Moon, something she had mastered in her career. So when fear struck and her thoughts stalled, her silence passed easily as attentiveness. She simply inclined her head, as though listening with care.

The pause gave her cover. Through the shifting bodies at the table, past candlelight and crimson silk, she searched for him, for the shape of a face that had haunted her youth. A nightmare she had tried to bury, and yet here it was, unearthed in her present.

He did not look at her, yet she felt the direction of his attention like heat against her skin, palpable enough to seize her lungs in a clenched fist and make her fight for air. Then one of the men at the table said something to her, and Nahi turned a dazzling smile toward the compliment. Was it too much? Possibly, but no one would really notice, not with the affection she had for those who praised her music.

When she looked up again, he hadn’t moved. Her violet eyes studied his profile and posture. The light was low, and crimson silk half-obscured his table. Memory and shadow were known to create dangerous concoctions. Was it truly him, or was the emotional turbulence of the past seven weeks casting familiar shapes in unfamiliar darkness?

She excused herself and moved to get a better view. By the time she found it, the man was already heading toward the private rooms with one of the club’s hostesses. His back revealed nothing.

At the bar, she made herself approachable, posture open, expression welcoming, though she was content simply to cradle her cup and slow her breath. Hot water, lemon, honey, simple things that allowed her to ground herself.

Was his nose the right shape? His eyes the correct shade? Or was her mind, startled by resemblance and memory, manufacturing a ghost?

She just couldn’t convince herself either way. Maybe it would be wise to find someone to add magical protections to her home. And it was definitely time to make an appointment to see Xanelan again. If her mind was structuring threats from her past, it was more than time to stop avoiding therapy.

@daily-writing-challenge

@arandori @fio-renze @inistellan @serazhen @xanelen @xylaes

#Red Moon #killed it #Nahi #<3 #friend writing

fio-renze

Febraury 21 - Day 7 Murder/Ardor

"A couple of the catering staff are locked out back and they have the next round of canapés," the server whispered in her ear.

Fiorenze tossed back the tequila shot that had been placed in front of her and murder walked. That's what Pyraelia called it, at least. The strong steps had a pace and presence that brokered no argument, she was clearly going somewhere and it behooved anyone in her way to not be. People moved. The air caught the gauzy, sheer fabric her black dress shirt was made out of in — she hoped — a dramatic enough way. It helped make her also sheer, but embroidered, silk sweetheart corset a little more elegant.

Arandori was stepping up to introduce the next performer, Tylenn. She'd only heard great things and certainly didn't want to miss him.

The stuck-out staff were let in with their bounty and she frowned, testing the door. The lock had likely gotten bumped by an elbow or a tray, and the person who was meant to be helping had wandered away. She turned on the ball of her red painted sole and stepped back out into the crowd. As soon as she found the door-woman, she tugged on her sleeve and was greeted with a sheepish smile. Apparently the young lady also wanted to see Tylenn. Caught, she made her way back to where she was supposed to be.

Fiorenze exhaled steadily and tucked a strand of her straightened hair back behind her ear. The normally voluminous, curly poof was, for tonight, smooth as silk. Another drink was waiting for her at the bar when she got there, one of the Total Eclipses. She leaned against the curved edge of the counter top and had a calming sip while watching the way the other patrons leaned in to watch how sensuously Tylenn danced.

Two young girls off to her right tittered and blushed, feverishly whispering to each other with a particular ardor as they watched the stage lights caress his body. Fiorenze smirked. Who could blame them?

It was enough downtime that her chest tightened, and she immediately started to fiddle with the satin covered button that kept the matching sleeve cuff closed. Things were fine. This was going splendidly. The anxiety didn't need to be there, but it was. It had been months since she'd had a cigarette but that was the only thing she wanted right now. Not a want, really, but a need. Maybe later.

Applause exploded as Tylenn dipped into a deep, effortless bow. The music picked back up and he moved into his second piece, commanding attention. Seeing many of her friends and acquaintances in the crowd had made her quite happy, but she'd managed to dodge them most of the night. It was the Moon's party, not hers. She was there to work so they could revel — and she certainly hoped that they did.

#the lovely fiorenze #the red moon #<3

xylaes

February DWC 2026 Day 7 - Murder

The Red Moon would be opening its doors in a few hours at its new location near the Silvermoon harbor. After the fall of Dalaran, Xylaes had assumed that chapter of his life had come to a violent end, and he would throw himself into his mercenary work instead. But the news of Arandori opening a new location in Silvermoon City was a temptation he couldn’t ignore. He owed them so much.

He stood in front of the mirror longer than he meant to in his small apartment in Murder Row. His suit hung nearby, a deep charcoal with subtle crimson details woven through the lining, tailored perfectly to his broad form. A pair of polished, sleek black leather dress boots waited beneath the suit, their finish catching the light with a pronounced shine. All of it had cost more than he would have once made in months.

He could still remember a time, not that long ago, when that number would have seemed impossible. He could still feel the cold stone under his spine and the flattened cot that barely softened it, and the air thick with sweat and resentment during the decade he spent behind bars. The way men measured each other by weakness, the way silence only kept you safe if it made others uneasy. Back then, nothing had been made for him, and nothing had been chosen. Nothing had belonged to him except his sentence.

He reached for the dress shirt first. Crisp, white, and smooth under his fingers. He slipped it on slowly, rolling his shoulders once as the fabric settled. It fit perfectly. No pulling at the seams, and no borrowed shape from whoever had previously worn it because it had been made just for him. He fastened the buttons with care and adjusted the collar, glancing at his reflection as if expecting to see the ghost of who he had been.

The man in the mirror did not look like a prisoner.

His eyes, once a golden-green, now deep violet from a power he never asked for, were steady and calm. There had been a time when those eyes had burned with rage rather than mercy, when anger had felt like the only honest thing left in him. Now that the flame was controlled. Not completely gone, probably never gone, but at least mastered. There was no need to prove he could survive anymore, because he already had.

He picked up the jacket next, the lining flashed red as he slipped his arms through. The weight of it settled across his shoulders, the fine tailoring a reminder that this was chosen and not borrowed. He adjusted the lapels, smoothed a hand down the front, and watched the transformation complete itself.

The first time he had worked at the Red Moon, it hadn’t been glamour, it had been survival. No one else would hire him, not with a prison record and certainly not with the rumors he could never escape. The Red Moon had not asked questions. They had offered velvet instead of stone, perfume instead of rust, and gold instead of judgment. He had practiced this craft long before during his time in the military. The way to read a room, to charm and disarm, the way to make others follow his lead without a word. He had learned that intimacy could be curated and managed, and even weaponized if necessary. The job came almost too easy to him.

There had been nights he walked the floor with a smile carved carefully into place, and every touch was calculated and every word measured. He was desire shaped into something safe and contained within silken sheets and soft lighting. He had sold the illusion of closeness while keeping the most fragile parts of himself locked away.

Back then, he wore a lot of borrowed finery, tailored just enough to pass in low light. Tonight, the suit was his. He leaned closer to the mirror, adjusting the open collar to show a little more chest beneath. His reflection didn’t look ashamed, nor did it look desperate, it looked composed and very capable.

He thought about the nights he had laid awake in a cell, staring at a ceiling he could not escape and wondering if that was all he would ever be. A mistake, a cautionary tale, someone people avoided in the streets. He remembered counting breaths just to stay steady, and he remembered the way time stretched and days could feel like months. He also remembered promising himself that if he ever walked free again, he would never live small.

Now he was choosing to go back to the Red Moon. Not because he had to, because he wanted to, and because he could.

He exhaled slowly and reached for his golden cufflinks, fastening them with steady fingers before fully straightening. There was no prison in his posture now. There was only a man who had been broken multiple times and rebuilt himself into something stronger. Xylaes gave his reflection one last look, and a faint, knowing smirk touched the corners of his lips. Tonight, he would step back into the Red Moon not as someone discarded and fading into his own past, but as someone who belonged.

@daily-writing-challenge @arandori @fio-renze

#xylaes #the red moon #<3

inistellan

February DWC 2026 Day 7 - Murder

((This story is for The Red Moon's grand opening event taking place (OoC) tonight! You can find more info on the event ---> HERE))

Stellan rose from the piano bench, smoothing and rebuttoning the front of his deep midnight jacket as the garnet silk beneath caught the spotlight. He stepped away from the instrument without looking back, and instead, he reached for the microphone with one hand and his old fashioned with the other. He gave the background band a small nod, this would be a fun surprise!

The tempo that responded to him was bright and alive! It burst forth with energy and swept through the room, grabbing everyone’s attention. It was unmistakably upbeat, the kind of sound that stirred your blood and made staying seated feel impossible. Stellan grinned and stepped off the stage.

♪ Oh, the shark, babe, has such teeth, dear… And he shows them pearly white…♪

His rich and commanding voice spread throughout the room, carrying easily over the band. He snapped his fingers lightly to the rhythm, shoulders swaying as he moved between tables. He wasn’t restrained tonight like usual. He was clearly enjoying every moment of this; the pulse of the music, the way eyes followed him, and the way the room leaned closer without realizing it.

♪ Just a jackknife has old MacHeath, babe… And he keeps it out of sight. ♪

He tipped his glass just enough to hide it from view, seafoam eyes flashing with private amusement. The irony pleased him more than it should have. There had been a time when vanishing in plain sight was his finest skill. When precision meant everything, and when death arrived so cleanly it felt like an afterthought rather than a crime.

The crowd laughed, delighted.

♪ You know when that shark bites with his teeth, babe.. Scarlet billows start to spread. Fancy gloves, though, wears old MacHeath, babe.. So there’s never, never a trace of red. ♪

He glanced down at his own hands as he sang it: immaculate cuffs, polished rings, fingers steady around the weight of the glass. The corner of his smirk curved a touch deeper. He was all too familiar with ‘scarlet billows’, but tonight they were only lyrics wrapped in a jaunty tune. He prowled along, brushing fingers along the back of a velvet chair, leaning closer to a noblewoman who flushed when his voice dipped lower for the next verse.

♪ On the sidewalk, ohhh Sunday morning.. Lies a body just oozin’ life. And someone’s sneakin’ ’round the corner… Could that someone be Mack the Knife? ♪

He leaned into the question with a glint of mischief, angling the microphone toward a flustered patron as though daring her to confess. Laughter rippled through the room and the trumpet answered him with a cheeky flourish. The audience adored it. The danger softened into spectacle and the risk dressed up as charm, all wrapped up in a swinging beat. To them it was only story and seduction.

♪ There’s a tugboat down by the river, don'tcha know.. Where a cement bag just droppin’ on down Oh, that cement is just, it’s there for the weight, dear… Five will get you ten, ohhh Mackie’s back in town. ♪

The words hummed pleasantly in his chest. Back in Silvermoon, back in silk instead of shadow. Back where his name drew applause instead of dread. He spun lightly on his heel, laughing mid-phrase as the band swelled brighter. He took a slow sip of his old fashioned between lines without missing a beat, letting the bass continue for a measure before sliding right back in. His voice was fuller now, swagger sharpened by joy rather than the menace the song promised.

♪ Now did ya hear about Louie Miller? He disappeared, babe.. After drawin' out all his hard earned cash. And now Macheath spends just like a sailor Could it be our boy's done somethin' rash? ♪

He let the question hang with a playful lift of his brow, smile easy as the crowd laughed at the wicked implication. Taking a slow sip of his drink, he gave a subtle but knowing shrug. Eyes glinting in the spotlight before he slid effortlessly into the next line, leaving just enough pause to make it feel dangerous, but never real.

♪ Jenny Diver, ho ho, yeah Suky Tawdry, Ooh, Miss Lotte Lenya and Lucy Brown. Oh, the line forms on the right, babe, Now that Macky’s back in town. ♪

He let the names roll off his tongue with playful emphasis, casting glances toward the balcony where a few hostesses laughed and leaned over the railing as if they themselves might answer to them. The room clapped along now, caught in the rhythm, and delighted by the scandal woven into the verse. Stellan spread one hand in mock gallantry at the line forms on the right, inviting the joke, and completely owning it.

♪ I said Jenny Diver, woah Suky Tawdry, Look out, Miss Lotte Lenya and Lucy Brown. Yes the line forms on the right, babe, Now that Macky’s back in town. ♪

“Look out old Macky’s back!”

He held the final refrain just long enough to make it flirtatious instead of foreboding. The band punctuated him with a brassy flourish that sent applause crashing through the cabaret. Stellan stood in the center of it all, smiling broadly, breathing steady, and completely composed. He lifted his glass in a lazy salute, eyes gleaming with something no one in the room could quite name. He placed the microphone back onto its stand as though he hadn’t just walked the length of the room singing about murder with the composure of a man reciting poetry.

They clapped for the song, they toasted his charm, and they laughed at the wicked little story. He savored the irony.

Not because it troubled or haunted him, but because it amused him. How close the melody came to memory, how easily brutality could be dressed in swing and sold as spectacle. He gave them a shallow, elegant bow, “I’ve always appreciated a well-dressed professional.” The laughter came so easily. The band drifted back into ambient rhythm, and Stellan remained among them, the only man in the room who truly understood how little of that song had been fiction.

@daily-writing-challenge @arandori @fio-renze

#inistellan #the red moon #<3

fio-renze

February 18 - Day 4 Failure/Unravel

"The cocktail table load in is going to be at two in the afternoon on Friday. The catering crew manager wants to do a walk through but is only available at eleven in the morning that day. Linens are being delivered at three because I needed the tables there first. I can't set up the flower arrangements until the tables are set up and the linens are on," Fiorenze hunched over the notes on the planner book Keranna had lent her and pressed her fingers deep into her eyes before rubbing them.

"Strike tape. Mark where the tables will be for the catering crew manager, it will help them understand so they can communicate back to their team. Do a late lunch, get the tables up and linens on. Up to you if you want to have your new hire bring the flowers that afternoon or wait until Saturday," Keranna advised as gently as she could.

Fio exhaled slowly, "That's a great idea, thanks. Sorry. I'm just—"

"You will be fine, and the grand opening will be lovely. As much as you say you didn't have a hand in planning the masquerades, you did more than you think. Don't doubt your ability now," Keranna poured a little more wine in her girl's glass and slid it across the marble tabletop. "Besides, it will be easier if you try to relax a little. I know that probably seems impossible, but you have done what you can for now. Picking at things that are not fraying will make you start to unravel."

"I don't want to fuck this up, Keranna," she frowned and ran her fingers around the base of the wine glass. "It's important to Dori, I want everything to be perfect."

"It won't be perfect, nothing ever is, but it will still be marvelous. What people will remember is that they had excellent drinks, great entertainment and probably a fantastic fuck if they're lucky, or smart enough to hire one of the hosts." Keranna waved her hand dismissively, "Nobody will remember the table cloths or the napkins."

"The napkins are GREAT though. They have a little moon on them!" Fio couldn't help but smile a little; she'd always been particular about the details, and this was no exception.

Keranna reached across her table and squeezed her girl's hand, "And that will be incredibly charming until the third drink starts to make everyone's memory a little hazy. Now, sip your wine and roll your shoulders back a bit."

Fiorenze did just that.

@daily-writing-challenge / @arandori

avoidingwhispers

DWC - 20 Feb - Day VI - Harm / Useful

As a note, the Red Moon event takes place on 21 Feb 2026. This event is being used for prompt advantage and this piece is forward dated to that event.

Valerron was going to hate it. Belidrae smiled to herself as she examined herself in his mirror. Medium length bright honey and cream blonde hair fell down in modest waves, an idle curl here and there, assaulting turn of neck and naked sun-kissed shoulders. The dress was perfect, she thought. A front cut out just beneath the bust, thin straps that tied in a bow at the back of her neck and hidden by her hair, backless—an opening that dropped to her small, and embraced every curve until the skirts fell about her feet. Her left thigh peeked out from beneath a slit that would shift with every step she took. She’d picked an antiqued bronze, something she thought would complement the rest of her and provide a proper contrast to the rest of her features.

As she bent down to carefully pull one heel on a foot and then the other, she minded the darkly painted nails and considered the situation. She’d never been to the Red Moon before, though she’d certainly heard of it. She wouldn’t have called it a place of ill repute, though she could imagine that was precisely what her family thought of establishments like that. On the contrary, she thought people could have benefited from more places akin to. People were wound far too tightly and surely, they’d find just a smidgen more joy if they weren’t so caught up in themselves. If they didn’t take things so seriously.

Within reason, of course. Some things were meant to be taken seriously.

fio-renze

OOC Information: This is not an event held officially in game! It is meant as something fun to headcanon your character attending on Saturday if it makes sense for them to do so (and write about if you'd like). Please feel free to tag @arandori & @fio-renze if you do, and @daily-writing-challenge if you use it for your final day story!

The Red Moon is a cabaret and bordello that has long held a presence in Shattrath and, prior to its fall, Dalaran. After a year of having only one location again, Arandori has decided to open a satellite Red Moon in a lane of the bustling Silvermoon harbor. To kick-off the launch of the new location, her friend Fiorenze has helped her plan and coordinate the Grand Opening.

Invitations have been cordially extended to previous patrons and flyers posted where appropriate. Considering the nature of the business, the event times are a bit later than the usual fare with doors opening on Saturday at 9 bells in the evening — with an expectation that the party will go on until the wee hours of the morning. The dress code is to look fancy and have fun.

Adults only, the security will send any underage hopefuls away at the door.

IC Information:

Recently established in one of the new buildings within Silvermoon City's harbor district, the location of this Red Moon gleams with a modern Sin'dorei aesthetic. Red velvet ropes line the flagstone path leading to the bouncers that flank the cabaret doors and are ready to check age or invitation.

Once inside the venue, the walls of recently cut and shaped alabaster shimmer in the ambient light that has been magically set to that breathtaking moment where the blue hour starts to overtake the golden, right on the cusp of dusk. A grand bar shaped like a crescent moon with a freshly polished ebony top awaits comfortably inside the entrance, ready to greet patrons as concierge during the day and serve drinks at night. @Serazhen can be found here, serving drinks — one of which is the signature Total Eclipse cocktail — with a few other bar staff.

Everyone's first two drinks are on the house, courtesy of the Red Moon's lovely owner Arandori.

The back of the bar cups the cabaret lounge space, which is widely terraced down a few steps to a circular stage and allows the bartenders to serve patrons easily from both the cabaret side of the venue, as well as the path that leads to the ramp, and translocation orb, that provides access to the formal bordello and private rooms on the floors above.

On the top level, where the entry, bar and second floor access are located, inset alcoves ring one side of the curved wall. Crimson gossamer curtains give a bit of cheeky privacy to the heaped silk cushions and plush rugs within, where attendees can sit and indulge in hookah pipes and listen to the entertainment and be doted on by the Red Moon hosts who are seeking new potential clients — like @Xylaes, who has worked for the Moon before and will be from time to time again with the establishment of the new location.

The alcoves situated on the northwest side of the wall have the stained glass windows thrown open to let in the sea breeze and provide a glittering night view of the North Sea. Opposite the alcoves and on the other side of the main ring, standing cocktail tables dot the space with crimson tablecloths, in the middle of which are blooming flower arrangements full of lush, deep red dahlias, blooming roses and thistles, and sprigs of flowering linden.

The next level of the cabaret, truly just a couple easy steps down from the main level, has a smattering of dark red leather chairs, chaises and small couches that surround ebony tables inlaid with gilded strips of metal in traditional elvish designs. Enchanted candles, illuminated crystals and tea-light baubles hover over smaller flower arrangements at each intimate seating cluster and cast just enough light to be pleasant, but not distracting.

Throughout the evening catering staff, dressed smartly in all black, float between the main and seating levels with trays of hors d'oeuvres on one arm and custom ruby cocktail napkins with a burgundy foil embossed full moon in one corner.

In the heart of the tiered room, on the third and final ring down from the entrance floor, is the showcase stage. As part of the overall entertainment for the evening, a curated list of performers — @Inistellan, @Nahi-summerhold and @Tylennaeva chief among their number, along with a few more of the Red Moon's official, hireable hosts — will play a small set of their own choosing between 10 p.m. and midnight, with small breaks in between each act to allow for set up, take down, and the refreshing of drinks and small bites.

The emcee for the evening is the illustrious owner of the business, Arandori. She is a stunning Sin'dorei, wearing an emerald silk gown that clings to her body like liquid. The plunging, draped neckline of her dress drips below her naval and shows off the cheeky, sheer lace bodysuit that flirts with propriety by having a turtleneck collar. Matching sheer lace gloves cling to her arms all the way up to her mid-bicep. She is charming and flirty, here to have fun and make sure everyone else does to.

Inistellan's set begins with a piano being magically moved to center stage. He's an old school crooner who can expertly play that nostalgic, cabaret jazz and match it with a voice smooth enough to make anyone swoon. Tylenn is there to dance for the crowd, ready to show off and prove why it's worth coming back to the show night after night. Nahilvi, also known as the Silver Banshee, is a renowned songstress whose set starts with flirty, playful pieces that transition to intimate ballads with incredible depth.

When not being graced by the main performances, a talented sextet of strings and mixed brass take the stage to play ambient music that guests can mix, mingle, and dance the rest of the early morning away to.

@daily-writing-challenge

DWC Day 5 Sunshine

She greeted the morning, toes pressing into the cool sand as the sea unfurled towards her like a breath she’d waited all night to take. She paddled out past the breaking waves and just sat, soaking in the sea. As the sunshine began to kiss her skin, she rose into her first stretch. Salt in her hair, peace in her bones. This is where she is most herself.

@daily-writing-challenge

#my blurbs #arandori #novemberdwc2025 #novemberday52025

DWC2025 -- Wilt

On her way out, Dori snagged the flowers from the vase by the door. She’d get more from Fio later. For now, she couldn’t resist bringing the bouquet to her nose as she stepped into the bustle of the Exchange.

She knew they were a small token. Silly, almost, after all this time. Still, she couldn't help herself. Since her visit to the Harbor, her thoughts kept circling back to her father.

It had been years since she’d been to the docks. Years since she’d even thought about going. After days of wandering Silvermoon, the Azure Coast, and Sunstrider Isle with the realtor, it was the Harbor that hit her. Something in its familiar chaos struck straight through her.

Was it the salt-heavy air? The gulls mewling overhead? The low, thunderous blasts of departing ships or the dinghy bells chiming against their moorings?

“Hey, are you okay?” the realtor asked beside her.

Dori blinked, pulling herself back and offering a hazy smile. “Oh. Right. Yeah! Just memories, sugar. All’s well.”

It wasn’t a lie. She did have good memories of the harbor from her childhood.

Today, when she reached the docks, she veered off, taking the worn path down to the shoreline. The water lapped gently at her feet as she knelt, bouquet still in hand. She raised the flowers again, which had already begun to wilt, inhaling their sweetness before letting out a long, steady breath.

“Miss you, Papa,” she murmured. “May your lines always be tight.”

@daily-writing-challenge @fio-renze for the mention

#novemberdwc2025 #novemberday62025 #arandori #my blurbs

DWC Day 3 Crush/Serious

5 November Rarely did Arandori just show up at Stellan’s place. He’d told her she was always welcome, and she was comfortable there. But still, she stood at his door juggling a to-go bag and her keys, almost feeling like an intruder. Stellan was a private man, and that was one way they were vastly different. Normally, she tried to respect that boundary.

But tomorrow was her birthday, and the move back to Silvermoon had unsettled her more than she’d expected.

She didn’t linger. The door clicked shut behind her, and a slow smile tugged at her lips when she spotted him, sitting exactly as she’d imagined, an old fashioned in hand. His brow arched the instant he saw her; the bastard had known it was her before she’d even crossed the threshold.

Still, his expression carried the unspoken question.

Arandori kicked off her sandals, dropped the bag of food on the entry table, and crossed the room with easy confidence. Without hesitation, she climbed into his lap, mischief glinting in her eyes.

“What?” she teased, lips curling. “Can ya blame a girl for wantin’ to wake up with her crush on her birthday?”

@inistellan

#dori says #>.>#novemberdwc2025 #novemberday32025 #Arandori #Stellan

Arandori pattered through her new flat. She started the kettle and ran her fingers through her hair before pulling it up into a messy bun. The sun shown through the window, illuminating the flat, as she plopped down on the sofa, coffee in hand. She peered out the window, overlooking the Silvermoon streets, and sighed. Gods, did she miss the beach.

Had she made a wrong decision? Leaving the beach to come back to Silvermoon? It only made sense with the need to oversee construction of the Moon. She was not a hermit, after all. That’s exactly what she’d been. For months. Years even.

She sipped the coffee and curled her feet underneath her. Why hadn’t she thought of living on the beach in Eversong before just recently? Her realtor had found a few spots but nothing quite hit her in the feels. So, the savvy realtor had talked her into renting the flat in Silvermoon; for the time being. At least she could drop her towel here, if she wanted.

If she was going to teach yoga classes at Nahi’s, oversee construction of the Moon, and start reconnecting with her loves, she certainly needed to be in the City. Or at least near it.

Why did she still feel stagnant? Static. She picked up her comm, scrolling through to find the realtor. She could visit a few lots by the beach before she had to start getting ready for the Gala.

mentions @nahisummerhold @keranna-zerine

#blurbs #novemberdwc2025 #novemberday12025

johnny69150

Gal Gadot 🇨🇵

sapphicsea-witch

Misty morning beach yoga bliss 🧘‍♀️

inartchive

arandori

Thanks @saltsparkle

#mood #aesthetic

Have you ever considered joining the mercenary crew that Stellan is a part of? (If they are still 'a thing')

"Me? Oh, heck no! I'm a lover, not a fighter. That's the sayin' yeah? I mean, I could see myself visitin' the camps or whatnot from time to time, but I ain't sure how that'd go."

Thanks @turning-through-the-never! <3 @inistellan

#answered questions

Have you ever considered other work?

"Recently? Nah. I like my job and it's served me quite well. I mean, I don't really take on new clients any more but yeah. Wasn't like I ever did much before comin' to the Moon. I waited tables, did other odd jobs, and wandered aimlessly through life. Now, I got time for yoga 'n the beach."

thanks @saltsparkle!

#answered questions

inistellan

Is he and Arandori still a thing? How is that going?

"We are. We've always kept it very comfortably casual. No commitments, we just come together whenever we please and enjoy each other's company. She's a beautiful and busy woman who is very in demand, I take what time I can with her."

thanks anon! @arandori

arandori

😉

Trending Blogs

Recently Viewed Blogs

Arandori