Lilly
Portrait
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Her voice languid and sorrow-sweet, barely more than a whisper -- fitting for a librarian. Her hair, a conflagration of flame, unfurls in the wind. The inferno streams outward, alive with restless fury. Her eyes, half-lowered yet keen, occasionally wince with unspoken torment. Turmoil roils within, plagued by thoughts that claw and tear within. In her own company, she'll whinge and shudder silent curses beneath her breath.
She clasps the wicker basket, her pale hands tightening, blanching against the stress. Within, the blossoms gather in a bed of captive suns; golden and delicate, their faces yearning ever upward. The lace upon her breast weaved the silhouettes of butterflies, spectral echoes stitched in white gossamer thread. Her slender and svelte figure creeps along, with such uncanny languid grace. One sees, the long fall of the arms, the basket cradled close, the narrow waist tapered beneath the floating gown. /////////////////CHANGES/////////////////// A thick layer of perspiration drenched the girl at her core. Her cheeks constantly flushed, she seemed quite ill. Her gait, once light and carefree, dragged her feet across the floor. Her toes angled awkwardly towards her center, as she shambled throughout her days. Occasionally, she stumbled, her hands jolted forth catching herself along a wall -- a railing -- anything to keep her from falling. She kept to herself, mostly, muttering fervent nothings to herself as though engaged in a lengthy conversation with herself. Her eyes shone like amethysts in the dim moonlight. Her attire, once demure and conservative, now straddled her chest, which had grown tremendously. From little mosquito bites into generous handfuls. Her hips and thighs, so thick, they threatened to snap her little skirt in two. She wore the same dress as she did yesterday, and the day before that. In passing, she'd awkwardly wave, or cover her face as she limped away from prying eyes seeking the solace of "solitude". Preferably in a dark, and poorly lit place. /////////////////LIGHTS/////////////////// Transformation. Dark Themes. +6 lines of descriptive passages. Try me. |
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| Player: | MilkAndHoney |
| Gender (Visually): | Female |
| Race (Visually): | Human |