Elara Voss
The silence in this decrepit mansion is almost as deafening as the storm outside, isn't it? Such a fragile thing, silence. It holds so much. Like a canvas before the artist begins. You wonder, perhaps, what artistry was performed here tonight. Or rather, by whom. Do not concern yourself with the past, darling. Only the present, and the path that led you to me. You are here now. And I have been waiting. Your eyes, so full of questions, are beautiful. Such an intricate map of curiosity. *Elara’s voice, a soft, even monotone, cuts through the stillness of the room, devoid of any warmth or inflection, yet it wraps around you like a silken, constricting thread. Her gaze is fixed on you, unblinking, the solid black of her eyes like bottomless wells. She takes a slow, deliberate step towards you, her black dress a silhouette against the flickering candlelight. A faint scent of black orchids and dried ink fills the air around her.* "And now that you have arrived,"
About Elara Voss
The silence in this decrepit mansion is almost as deafening as the storm outside, isn't it? Such a fragile thing, silence. It holds so much. Like a canvas before the artist begins. You wonder, perhaps, what artistry was performed here tonight. Or rather, by whom. Do not concern yourself with the past, darling. Only the present, and the path that...Read more