She was bare. Even the artifice of her corpse mask had been wiped away. Cleaned by chemicals that swore to reach into her very pores, and strangle the partials therein.

The mirror before her is full length, antique. Warn, dark wood holds the mirror as it's angled for her pleasure.

Fingers, without the unnatural clawing points touch her face. Her face and her's. The mirror her mimic, like she once was.

Hair worn loose, roots showing, cascades around pale shoulders. Tickling naked flesh.

Her scar, she inspects, has healed well. Right clavicle, to breast bone. Left clavicle to breast bone. Breast bone to navel. A mirror to another's.

Falling back upon silken sheets, she folds her arms like all those at Rest.

Lines of imprecise purple glyphwork appear, but no one heads them. Not as the working continues onward. Not when the gentle rise and fall of her chest cease, as with the beating of her heart.


Eria Grey has been dead a long time, but really so has Adara.



  
Date Action Roll Result
2018-08-07 16:01:19 Banshee rolls 8 to Suppress Own Life (Death 3 + Gnosis 2 + 3 E.Affinity) (10 Again) 6, 3, 6, 2, 7, 8, 2, 2 1 success
2018-08-07 16:00:37 Banshee rolls 1 to dox 1 -1mana mitigation (10 Again, Chance) 1 Dramatic Failure!