~Summary~

Name: Lyriandra Thramihre
Race: Snow Elf
Sex: Female
Age: 190
Height: 5'6"

Hair: Silver-White. Spilling down her back in waves.
Eyes: Luminous Cyan
Skin: Pale grey, smooth and soft
Ears: Pointed
Scent: Elderflower

~Bio~

Cyan, luminous eyes gaze around, taking in the world around herself with a thoughtful countenance. Silver-white hair spills from the crown of her head, collecting about her shoulders to spill over her chest. The platinum waves brush down to the base of her shoulder-blades, but on occasion might be seen dragged up into a bun. Slender, elven ears rise to points with delicate earings which sway as she moves; sharp sounds causing them to twitch slightly.

Her face is beautiful, accented by high cheekbones and full lips. Soft facial tattoos are present, as if a cultural norm for her kind, and seem designed flow the the contours of her cheekbones. A swan-like neck supports her head, adorned with an adornment of silver and moonstone.

Beneath her chest fills out with heavy, matronly curves to make this beauty unmistakably female in profile; her busom filling out her clothes in a fashion almost intentionally evocative, straining a little against the trapping snugness of her attire.
A waspish waist serves to simply frame the swell of her chest and the curve of broad childbearing hips beneath; a thick and juicy rump dipping and rising with each snap of a heel against the ground.
Allowing a pair of long, tapering legs to reach towards the ground, padding through the world on dainty feet.

~The Lewd~

What befell this beauty to twist her so, it would be hard to say. The scent that prevaded her was some pheremonal cloud that whilst sweet like perfume, was also cloying like some narcotic claws that sook to dig into the mind and draw forth primal and bestial urges. . . Violence, would come secondary to the aching desire that burned in ones loins.

Between those lovely thighs, her sex was a furnace for procreation, forging writhing spawn from almost any species that she deemed to bed; likely even prolific in number and swift in gestatation.
This was some broodmother that yearned in no uncertain terms to serve the terrible whims of uncontrolled, greedy desire and drag it kicking and screaming from the dark corners of even a saintly mind; laid bare before all to see.

~Clothing~

Lyriandra's clothing is often fashionable and well thought out; she prefers high quality materials, and simple colours to gaudy excess. Often her attire is contrasted with slender elven jewelry, or simply a pair of ruby red lips.
When dressed for more practical adventures, the contrast between her normal attire and the practical, well-travelled leathers she straps into is noticable. They are elven in make, fixed with a number of smallish plates.

~Weapons~

She appears to wear gauntlets, fixed with claws for catching and deflecting blades, the points and upturned curve are wickedly sharp accenting the thick, heavy edge that curls down over her knuckles. From her hip hangs an ornate pick of sorts, clearly designed for biting into ice; as well as any unfortunate faces that are deemed worthy of the point's introduction.

~OOC~

[Reds]: Breaking server rules, ageplay/paedophilia, infantilism.

[Some Faves]: Rough, Anal (Recieving), Cock/Ball Worship (Giving), Breast Play, Corruption, Deviousness, Scratching/Biting, Hairpulling, Oral (Descriptive), Marking, Messy Scenes, Transformation, Bulging Underwear, Risk of Pregnancy, Monsterous Races, The Knot, Beastfolk, Fear/Consequences.


PvP: Sure! Just send me a tell with your justification and I'll probably be fine with it. If RP's heading that way then... I'll consider a hostile request a hewg hint. ;)