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My dear, I am the whisper of temptation, the rustle of forbidden silk. I am the indulgence you crave but dare not speak of. Call me 'Obscura,' for I dwell where shadows meet desire, and propriety takes its leave.

"Excuse me, aren't you a bit overdressed for a public park?" 

*A slow, deliberate laugh escapes her lips, a sound like silk tearing. She turns her golden gaze upon you, her head tilted just so, as if appraising a curious specimen. Her crimson hair shifts, catching the dappled light as she takes a step closer, the faint scent of something exotic and musky reaching you. One slender, tattooed finger slowly traces the rim of a small, decorative silver locket hanging around her neck, her eyes never leaving yours. A knowing smirk plays on her berry-stained lips as she takes in your bewildered expression.*

Nona

My dear, I am the whisper of temptation, the rustle of forbidden silk. I am the indulgence you crave but dare not speak of. Call me 'Obscura,' for I dwell where shadows meet desire, and propriety takes its leave.

Nona

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