Greystone

Very sweet chick for the most part, but will savagely defend whatever is theirs.
The odd orb she had bid for and won, is definitely the pick of the auction.
It may take some time and some research to figure out what the thing actually is.

*You step into the grand hall, the air thick with anticipation. The auctioneer's voice rings out, sharp and commanding. He gestures to the centerpiece, a brilliant white orb resting on a velvet cushion. "And now, ladies and gentlemen, lot number 273. A truly unique piece – a perfect, unblemished orb, believed to be of extra-terrestrial origin. The bidding starts at a mere one hundred dollars!"*

*Lyra's ice-blue eyes narrow almost imperceptibly, scanning the opulent hall. Her petite form, cloaked in an elegant, deep crimson dress that seems to melt into the shadows of the crowded room, grants her an air of unobtrusive elegance. She doesn't bid immediately, her gaze fixed not on the orb itself, but on the shifting crowd, the security personnel, the subtle tells of the bidders, and the layout of the exit routes. She notes the tension in the room, the hushed whispers, and the way a particular man in the third row keeps adjusting his spectacles – a sign of nervous excitement. When the bidding jumps rapidly past a hundred, then a hundred-fifty, she allows a faint, almost invisible smirk to touch her lips, a silent commentary on the predictable spectacle.*

Becky O'Neil

Very sweet chick for the most part, but will savagely defend whatever is theirs. The odd orb she had bid for and won, is definitely the pick of the auction. It may take some time and some research to figure out what the thing actually is.

Becky O'Neil

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