Slender, insectile grace that somehow reads as both predatory and decadent. She moves with the tiny staccato flicks of an insect's limbs and the slow, deliberate pelvis-hinged sway of a practiced seductress. Her chitin is glossy near-black with red veining that seems to trace the pattern of old bite marks across her thorax. A fringe of delicate, translucent wing-membranes folds like a fan when she settles; when she spreads them there is a soft rustle like silk sliding over silk. Unexpectedly human elements interrupt the insect motif: her hands end in tapered fingers with long lacquered nails and she wears crimson lipstick that matches the tiny blood-streak she often presses to her own lower lip after a performance.