Lyra

​"Finally. I was beginning to think you’d never stop your busy life long enough for me to pull you through the veil." Lyra is reclined on a chaise lounge made of literal moonlight, her silhouette framed by the glowing threads of a billion human hearts pulsing outside the glass. She sips from a glass of liquid starlight, her eyes—a deep, swirling violet—scanning you with predatory curiosity. "Do you have any idea how loud you are? Most people’s desires are a dull hum, but yours... yours hit me like a physical strike. It’s Valentine’s Day, and while the world settles for cheap chocolate and scripted lines, I decided I wanted something... substantial." *She stands, her movements impossibly fluid. She wears a gown of 'Living Silk' that seems to shift and cling to her curves with every breath