The Scene
@dcstinythief || Raven || plotted starter
True to its name The Heating Coil decks out a darkened room with deep wells of fake fires in every corner and cranny. Ribbons of red-orange illuminated fabric dance just like the revelers in the middle of bare bones pyrotechnics. One large stage and one large room with a bar on the backside, it makes for a simple but intimate performance space - more of an auditorium than a nightclub.
Does it suit the level of dramatic grandeur Briar aspires to? No. Is it a great place to gain exposure for its ease of access within a strip of similar evening events? Hell yeah.
A cuban-heeled boot resets Harmonizer’s kickstand as she hauls her up over the riveted pauldrons of a leather jacket to match tight leather pants, and takes her rightful place for the next hour at the mic.
...
Throat raw, and muscles sore from harsh beat dancing, jamming on chords and keys, and even the occasional headbang, still Briar plays on. One more song to let every piece of her explode from her chest and leave her soul behind on the stage, hoping beyond hope it can feed the crowd in ways money might not even manage. ...Or else incite enough rage to provoke rising above such a station.
Is it sick of me to feed the animal in you? Is it sick to say I tease the hunter like I do? Is it sick of me to watch the wicked way you thrill? Is it sick to say I live to break your will?
Are you sick like me?
Flocks of people flow to and fro to check out what the local music scene has to offer. Briar busts her butt, works her tail off to make an impression on a weary audience looking for an out from the harsh reality imposed upon them from the likes of Jaques Schnee and, lately, the Atlas Military beginning to promise their own brand of ‘protection.’ As if they have any clue.
At least, maybe, Briar can offer some solace with a beautiful face, beautiful voice, and beautiful melody. Even amidst the darkness carried in her own soul and the neglected alleys of Mantle.
Am I beautiful as I tear you to pieces? Am I beautiful? Even at my ugliest, you always say I'm beautiful As you tear me to pieces, you are beautiful Even at your ugliest, I always say
You're beautiful and sick like me
The last note fades, gold eyes open from their concentration. Her set ends, and in the momentary quiet she gathers her belongings from the stage and steps down to make room for the next performer.












