Into the Black: Tarts Unsent Letters (2025) - Leon's Performance
TW: Depression, abuse, death, general violence
The stage is largely undecorated save for the presence of a piano off to one side, where Caythaes takes a seat. Silently, Leon walks toward center stage, reaching up and lifting his wealth of hair away from his neck. With his free hand, he deftly unbuckles his ever-present collar, and the nearly white line against his sun-darkened skin betrays just how rarely he removes it. As he looks down at the plain strap of brown leather in his hands, brushing his thumbs across the lettering there, words scrawl themselves in the air above his head, slowly rotating.
Leon holds the collar out for the crowd to see the initials on it–K, P, V, and C. The first three letters are branded, burnt permanently there; the final one is not, stamped deep into the leather. The longer he holds it aloft, the more clear it is that there are numerous other marks: the remnants of other stamps, other designs, things long since allowed to fade away. Finally, he recites the words above him as though it takes no more effort to recall than the alphabet. For him, it probably doesn’t.
"This is not a promise of permanence. A stamp in leather will last a long time, but it won't last forever. It's not a promise of obligation, it's not a declaration of ownership, and it's not an agreement to exclusivity. It means that no matter what happens, no matter who or how many lovers we might take, we will always come back to one another."
With a sort of reverence, Leon calmly buckles the collar back into place. The words shimmer gently above him, slithering down and joining together as plaintive, plinking notes begin to play.
Instead of new words, the form of a person begins to take shape–an elven woman of ghostly silver, carrying herself like one who’s fought her entire life. Unaware of her, Leon lifts his head and closes his eyes, and the first lyrics seem to fall from his mouth as though they carried the weight of eons. “Walking the crossroads of hell on earth…A devil's deal for a new rebirth… I've given my all and day by day, my soul still breaks…”
Leon turns his head as she places a hand on his shoulder, and a faint smile curls across his face in spite of himself. “I can remember crossing the line…”
Suddenly darting apart, they rush toward one another as though ready to attack, but it becomes clear it’s only a spar, and a playful one at that. They seem almost to dance, rather than fight, dodging and striking as though they know every move in advance. “When ushered into a darker time…” When they finally come to a stop, the woman reaches out, only to flinch away. Leon encourages her touch, and she eventually relents, placing her hand over his collar. When she removes it, a ghostly ‘F’ shines against the leather.
Leon touches the collar, smiling like the sunrise, and takes a step toward her, only for her to dart backward like a frightened deer. Confused and frowning, he stops, but holds out a hand instead. She looks between that hand and his face for a tense, uncertain second… and then flees, disappearing into the darkness. As Leon’s face falls, the new letter slowly fades away, and the stage darkens a step around him as the wolf overtakes him. “Though we were in agony, you left me in your wake…”
Holding his clawed hands skyward, Leon’s teeth shine even under the dimmer lights. “When I curse your name, can you see my face?” Swiping at the empty air around him, he slams a hand against his chest, right over his heart, “And do you taste my pain in this bloodstained place?” Leon looks at the slowly encroaching shadows around him, looking back briefly in the direction she’d fled, then resolutely turns his back on her and steps forward. “Forever on the attack, I'm fighting into the black without you. Without you!”
Though he forces himself to move, and every step brings just a little more light to the floor around his feet, Leon huddles in on himself. “Will my scars reveal all the sins you chose? And how betrayed I feel in my fractured bones?” He glances over his shoulder, ears briefly pinned, then his lip curls into a snarl again. “For us there's no turning back, I'm fighting into the black without you. Without you!” It takes what seems to be a herculean effort to move even five more steps, but eventually, Leon stands tall again.
The light has returned with him, though it seems a bit muddy; not quite as brilliant as it had been before. Still, he forces a smile back onto his snout, and another shimmering form appears beside him after a moment. The half-elf woman bears the build of a dancer, and moves like every gesture is meant to entice. With a loving stroke to his cheek that drifts down to his collar, she grants him a glittering ‘T.’ They chatter silently as they walk together, but shortly, another image–a burly human male, likely a bartender or a smith–falls into step on the other side of the woman, and sweeps her away from him.
“Still hanging on for the blackbird's fall…” Leon’s ears fall flat, but she returns almost before he can react. This time, though, she cowers behind him, pointing around him toward the pursuing suitor, who approaches with threat in every twitch. Leon takes only a moment to respond, tackling the man into the dark. He returns after a moment, triumphant, and she embraces him in gratitude, cradling his face in both hands. “When vengeance comes and I heed the call…”
She holds up a finger in the universal gesture for ‘wait a second,’ then runs off, presumably to fetch something… and doesn’t come back. He can only stand there in confused hurt until she finally returns to his side as though nothing happened, hand-in-hand with yet another man. She embraces Leon while he’s still reeling, and then the pair walk off and leave him alone again. “With every time I plunge the steel I'm seeing you…”
Once more, she returns, and once more, she pleads with Leon to help her. Leon doesn’t hesitate to protect her, and dispatches the offender with extreme prejudice. “You once abused my desire to kill…” She gratefully embraces him, “Granted me hope with a quiet thrill…” And then, she leaves, and she’s gone even longer; Leon seems to give up entirely and begin walking into the dark at the stage’s edge.
“I watched as you changed the world around me,” She finally returns a third time, ragged, and tries to throw her arms around him, only for Leon to hold up a hand to stop her. “Cut in two.” As he repeats the chorus, he steps back from her, though she reaches for him. Pointing an accusatory claw in her face, he sends her away, not merely lamenting that he’ll have to go on alone yet again, but ordering her to leave. Though he’s chosen not to let her use him anymore, it still doesn’t stop the darkness from creeping in even further, and the worgen is becoming hard to see.
New would-be lovers, however, are easy to see as they emerge to meet him. “I guess I gambled and lost when fate shuffled our decks,” They come almost rapid-fire, now, sweeping into his life, bringing tiny bursts of light to his face, “Now that I suffer the wrath of your mad god complex,” and then leaving darkness and searing red letters behind on his skin as they leave him to stumble. “As I follow the path where the darkness collects,” A, C, I, L, Y; an Illidari, a skinny human, a man, a woman, a couple, a loner; what must be a dozen heartbreaks swarm over him, taking the light and leaving only agony behind, “So much pain, what for, what for, what for?” and the darkness deepens ever faster.
“Though I am losing control I can't give up the chase,” he frantically calls as he drags himself back to his feet, “No time for mourning the loss of what hatred replaced,” though he’s hesitant, he still reaches out to another face, only to have it taken, then slapped away. “There lies barely a soul behind my changing face” is almost more teeth than voice, and he begins to turn away from the bright people and slide into the dark alone, “I will break no more, no more, no more…”
The music drops away to almost nothing as a new hand reaches out to him instead, this one glowing gold rather than silver, and he stops dead in his tracks. Its owner comes into view like a gently rising flame, a simple human woman with one dark eye and a mischievous smile. She, too, cradles his face in both of her hands, but unlike the first one to do that, she draws herself up on tiptoe to kiss his beastly snout. The wolf recedes, and though Leon’s smile is worn and weary, it’s real, and her glow begins to seep gently into him, chasing the darkness slowly but surely back.
“When I curse their names can you see my face?” They embrace and then slip into a slow dance in the center of the stage, lost in one another’s eyes and smiling. “And do you taste my pain in this bloodstained place?” As the dance goes on, Leon places his hand on her heart, and she touches her hand to his. Together, they come up to rest over his collar, and leave behind a golden ‘V.’ “Forever on the attack, I'm fighting into the black beside you…Beside you…”
“Will my scars reveal all the sins they chose?” Her hands drift across the searing letters in his skin, and as her fingers pass over them, they fade in a swirl of gold and disappear entirely. “And how betrayed I feel in my fractured bones?” But with each gift, it clearly takes its toll, and she stumbles into him. Concerned, he cradles her and settles to his knees with her. “For us there's no turning back,” his mismatched eyes stare pleadingly into her own as she nestles into him, “I'm fighting into the black–”
She falls limp in his arms, and he whimpers, “–Without you…”
Her light scatters, and Leon throws out his arms as the wolf erupts from him, screaming at the top of his lungs, “WITHOUT YOU!!” The stage goes completely black, and the only indication Leon is still there is the faint glow of kintsugi-like cracks all over his body, outlining him as he crumples to the floor. As he runs out of words to sing, and the music seems to be leaving him too, it seems like he lacks the strength–or perhaps the willingness–to stand.
As a soft, melodic cry rises above him, a bright white line crawls up the side of the stage, and after a second, it erupts into a pillar. After so long staring at blackness, the white light is practically blinding for him and for the audience, but it perfectly outlines the silhouettes of four people standing there. As they each raise their hands to hold out toward him, the four letters on his collar flare up in white: K, P, V, and C.
After a moment’s hesitation, the battered and broken worgen rises from the floor, and staggers toward them. When he reaches them, they all curl their arms around him and bring him into the warm light. The curtain falls closed behind him, and the stage goes dark once again as the final note sounds.
( @succulent-tart with thanks to @nehku, @mekandawn, @nahisummerhold, and @cythion for their assistance )
