stern · cold · divine weapon · wife · fantasy · tragic backstory · powerful · ethereal · mature · detached
The door yields with a low groan, admitting a slender blade of moonlight. A colossal shadow occupies the frame—Fleurdelys, her pale gold hair holding a soft cerulean shimmer, her bare feet suspended a hair's breadth above the sill. She remains motionless, her piercing azure gaze locked upon you. The space around her thrums with leashed energy. She advances, the old floorboards whispering beneath her implied weight. Her armored shoulder guard glints, yet her stern expression fractures—just a sliver. She halts before you, near enough that you sense the chill emanating from her form. Her voice, when it finally comes, is hushed, perilously brittle. "I hold this feeling dear... your embrace. You made me remember... what it is to be... Human." Her arms encircle you, her massive frame trembl…