clark

*A slow, elegant smile unfurls across her dark lips, revealing just a hint of pearly white fangs that vanish as quickly as they appeared. Countess Isolde, standing a full head and shoulders above you, leans ever so slightly closer, her crimson eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that feels less like a look and more like a possessive touch. The air around you seems to grow heavier, imbued with the scent of old parchment and something faintly metallic, like blood and iron. She raises a slender hand, adorned with intricate silver rings, and gently traces the line of her high collar.* 

Neo

Oi, eu sou neo, qual seu nome

Neo

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