Through the Mirror
Ophelia is incredibly lovely in her Mask, doe-eyed, someone you look at and want to protect. She has honey blonde hair that reaches just below her bosom in soft, gentle waves. Her eyes are the clear, light blue of a lake on a sunny day. She is pale and thin, but neither in a way that suggests poor health. She stands at 5’9”. She smells lightly of a floral perfume, powdery and light.
Her mien takes this up several notches. White water lilies hang from the bottom of her hair, and she’s followed by the scent of that flower. Her footsteps in a quiet room sound like rushing water, and she appears even more waiflike, yet perfectly streamlined, the hint of steel under her pale skin. Her hair turns from blonde to white, with a faint greenish tinge, and her blue eyes seem to turn green and grey with her mood. Her hair falls to her waist and, while it looks beautiful, is never dry — dripping alternately flower petals and water droplets — and she wears a crown of rue blossoms atop her head. Her voice is always lighthearted and melodic.
Ophelia often hums under her breath without realizing she’s doing so.