09-02-2013, 01:49 PM
Spectra's gown was more carefully layered strips of cloth than an actual dress so that every step, bend, and movement she made seemed to come dangerously close to unraveling the whole thing. Although that was exactly the point.
Green orbs pale as frosted glass shone with all the mirth swirling around her. All other eyes, duller and blander, but filled with envy followed her breathtaking journey through the club. Heavy lashes defined their perfect symmetry and were two sparkling jewels perched atop the line of her cheekbones. The electric light of Manifesto struck and sparkled the copper of her skin and bounced blue from the seeming black night of her hair which was twisted to one side and cascading romantic curls down the front of her shoulder.
Outside this world, she was the supermodel sprawled across building ads blinking seduction and controversy in the effort to sell perfume, lingerie, lipstick, anything worthy of her face.
In here, she was a spider surveying the tunnels of her world, roaming and waiting for which fly was brave enough to come close. For the time, Spectra deigned to waft from the cacophony of the main club venue toward the private, luxurious lounges off Block One.
Where, as soon as she was shown in, she was met by the faces of modern day Lords garbed in an array of traditional white thawb, tunics, and long headdresses. She smiled gloriously at the reception and was welcomed with opened arms.
Green orbs pale as frosted glass shone with all the mirth swirling around her. All other eyes, duller and blander, but filled with envy followed her breathtaking journey through the club. Heavy lashes defined their perfect symmetry and were two sparkling jewels perched atop the line of her cheekbones. The electric light of Manifesto struck and sparkled the copper of her skin and bounced blue from the seeming black night of her hair which was twisted to one side and cascading romantic curls down the front of her shoulder.
Outside this world, she was the supermodel sprawled across building ads blinking seduction and controversy in the effort to sell perfume, lingerie, lipstick, anything worthy of her face.
In here, she was a spider surveying the tunnels of her world, roaming and waiting for which fly was brave enough to come close. For the time, Spectra deigned to waft from the cacophony of the main club venue toward the private, luxurious lounges off Block One.
Where, as soon as she was shown in, she was met by the faces of modern day Lords garbed in an array of traditional white thawb, tunics, and long headdresses. She smiled gloriously at the reception and was welcomed with opened arms.