Cheshire Neve
Sable tresses falling in charming curls frame an innocent face with eyes large and blue. A mind sharp and energized by youth taking the world in through those same eyes and tugging at the heart with an impression of utter harmlessness and innocence. As if somehow ugly truths had never touched her. Her features all the more endearing and memorable for the softness of youth yet still hiding the finer lines of the woman to be. All undermined by that lingering smile that tugs at the corners of her lips, soft and pink, and revealing teeth perfect and white in neat little rows.

Her frame is svelte and delicate; made all the more so by the uselessness of her legs. Unable to bear her weight, to allow her to dance and run... She sits and watches, and reads, and talks. Her heart and energy poured into all that she can do while some hint of a dark envy lingers beneath. Yet a pride still settles in the way she holds herself, the spirit enduring despite the misfortunes of birth... All flowing from the mind like water when her role changes or she is endowed with what she was first promised by the Shapeless Serpent.

The mask of glamour hides a stranger creature now from the eyes of men who only know the grey of banal reality. The true color of things denied to them until the touch of madness or fae magic rips the veil from their eyes.

Her features remain as sweet and innocent as they ever were but now those large and entrancing eyes of blue bear the golden flecks and vertical slits of some insidious reptile. That same intelligence shining through but any hint of innocence lost in the pragmatic and pitiless depths. Still, her voice is as honey; teasing into the ear darkly and pleasingly to evoke deep fears and painful longing upon Autumn's breeze.

Those differences don't stop with solely the windows to the soul; scales of silver and iridescence crawl along pale flesh to entrance the eye. Inching so carefully and precisely as if they were placed there by the delicate work of a make up artist rather than the twisting chaos of Faerie's touch. Yet it's perhaps the smile that drive's the point home... So very wide, so very warm and yet those perfect and neat little teeth now are parted and punctuated by the slender fangs of a truly deadly thing. Those fangs evoking the fear of needle and serpent's kiss both.

Then, then, the eyes trail down along her slender, sinuous form past the rolling curve of hip to where legs once rested. The curse of her Master's displeasure robbing her ever more of the chance to dance and run. The flesh fused and coiled into the mass of scale and sinew stretched and suited to some great serpent or ancient rendition of a Siren than a woman of the modern days. The subtle hint of a rattle present in the quiet moments between verses.

Her wheel chair a mask for the fractures and tears in the mask of glamour when ever the Siren's slithered before the eyes of men.

Striking Looks 2 (Mask: Harmless and Innocent Mien: Entrancing, Alarming, Sinuous), Mantle 2 (Autumn)