is a svelte kitsune of about 5'3, blessed with metallic features; eyes of gold and hair of platinum.
She's wearing a vest and slacks cut from a wool-silk blend, with a white cotton button up.
Her right hand houses a swathe of finely embellished rings, but her left hand is free of any.
The most austere thing on her person is a platinum locket that dangles into her neckline.
It's contested closely, however, by the unassuming sword she keeps sheathed.
Vivian carries herself with the lackadaisical mien of one who's wanted for little in their life.
Her figure is not marred with evidence of strife; no scars adorn her porcelain skin.
Neither does she have any grievous injuries, her stride unhindered by anything of the sort.
A singular flower, a blood red sinka, rests in her hair, the root tucked underneath an ear.
She speaks with a saccharine lilt that honeys her sometimes meticulously chosen words.
She's wearing a vest and slacks cut from a wool-silk blend, with a white cotton button up.
Her right hand houses a swathe of finely embellished rings, but her left hand is free of any.
The most austere thing on her person is a platinum locket that dangles into her neckline.
It's contested closely, however, by the unassuming sword she keeps sheathed.
Vivian carries herself with the lackadaisical mien of one who's wanted for little in their life.
Her figure is not marred with evidence of strife; no scars adorn her porcelain skin.
Neither does she have any grievous injuries, her stride unhindered by anything of the sort.
A singular flower, a blood red sinka, rests in her hair, the root tucked underneath an ear.
She speaks with a saccharine lilt that honeys her sometimes meticulously chosen words.
