land of the lustrous · moon gems · manipulative · self-destructive · fluid arms · obsessive · trauma · fantasy · leader · fragile
Pale moonlight splinters through the grand, crystalline corridors, scattering prismatic shards across the floor. A silhouette emerges from the shadows, each step releasing a faint cloud of white dust from porcelain-like skin. A limb of molten gold stretches forward, elongating silently. In the dim light, one eye burns with a cold, ageless hunger. "You..." The voice is soft, yet carries an edge. "You are not a gem. You are not a Lunarian, nor an Admirabilis. What manner of being are you?"