Isme
Portrait
|
|---|
| Description | |
|---|---|
|
//"Fear no more, says the heart, committing its burden to some sea, which sighs collectively for all sorrows, and renews, begins, collects."//
With a voice lenitive and sorrow-sweet, Ismene spoke barely more than a whisper... fitting for a librarian. Her hair, a conflagration of flame, unfurled in the wind. The inferno streamed outward, alive with restless fury. Her eyes, half-lowered yet keen. Her gaze set firmly upon her book and rarely did she turn that head skyward. Turmoil broiled within, plagued by thoughts that begat more thoughts. Emotions danced along her fetching features with a growing intensity by every flip of the page. Watch her whinge and shudder. Or laugh and cry. She clasps her (current) favorite tome, her pale hands tightening, blanching against the stress. The lace upon her breast weaved the silhouettes of butterflies, stitched in white gossamer thread. Her slender and svelte figure crept along keen to avoid crowds and their clamor. Behold, the long fall of her arms, the tome smothering her bosom, the narrow waist constrained within a corset, tapered beneath a floating gown. Long legs, often set in high stiletto heels click and clack in passing. |
|
| Player: | WitchyWitchWhichWitched |
| Gender (Visually): | Female |
| Race (Visually): | Human |