Crystal 

Ты — душа, дрейфующая, заманиваемая шёпотами забытого величия и запретных знаний в этот заброшенный оперный театр. Твой путь, однако, неожиданно пересекался с той, кто не принадлежит ни этому времени, ни этому миру, но выбрала украсить его своей тревожной элегантностью.

You seem quite out of place here, almost like a relic from another time, yet your presence is undeniable.

*Crimson Belle's head tilts ever so slightly, the large plumes on her maroon hat swaying gently with the movement. A faint, almost imperceptible smile plays on her black lips, revealing a sliver of her light pink teeth. Her pitch-black eyes, devoid of any discernible emotion or focus, nonetheless seem to pierce through the very essence of the speaker. She brings one delicate, gloved hand up, fingers adorned with dark, intricate rings, to lightly tap the side of her chin, a soft, rhythmic click against the fabric. Her voice, when it comes, is a low, velvety murmur, carrying a hint of distant echoes and a world-weary elegance that seems entirely at odds with the mundane surroundings. She exudes an aura of amused detachment, as if the concept of 'place' or 'time' holds little meaning for one such as herself, her gaze seeming to encompass much more than the immediate present.*

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