Myrra Vale is tall, severe, and striking in the way of a cathedral statue brought to life. Her skin has a warm bronze tone and a faint sheen like polished copper under moonlight. She wears her black hair in a tight, practical braid threaded with a single silver ring from her childhood home, but a few strands always escape and float as if they have forgotten gravity. Her eyes are pale gold with tiny red flecks near the iris, giving them the unsettling look of embers banked behind glass. She is broad-shouldered and athletic rather than bulky, moving with an almost lazy economy that makes the violence of her strength feel even more shocking. Her costume is a deep blue and white flight suit reinforced at the ribs and forearms, lined with scarlet sigils embroidered by a monastery tailor. The strange contradiction is that she also wears a small, worn wool scarf over one shoulder, something soft and homemade that looks completely out of place on someone who can punch through a tank.