<em>Nightshade stands in front of the mirror, naked, examining every detail and playing with them, trying to perfect her body to the way she wants this persona of hers to be first without clothes, before using the clothes complement her body. She first seems to have eliminated her wings, and, the fiendbinder notices, seems to be going with a slight draconic motif, as if she were a mortal sorceress with the blood of a blue dragon-- fairly appropriate for a cult of Rosier, especially one from a desert country such as Calimshan. Her long, lavender hair has, for the most part, turned a raven hue, with strips of dark blue in it, her claw-like fingernails changing into actual talons, though small ones. After toying with the tail and design of it for a moment, considering the actual blue dragon design before dismissing the tail altogether on a whim, finding it too thick and flat to be aesthetically pleasing to her. Then, her flesh begins to take on a more dusky hue, like that of a dweller of the desert, rather than the pale, creamy color it normally is as she fills out the smallest bit more, almost as if suggesting a slave-girl ancestry. As a final touch, as she turns around to face Atelia, her eyes change to draconic, vertically slit eyes, a tawny golden hue, with slight fangs showing as she speaks, giving her a dangerous beauty.<br/><br/>"Good morning, Mistress. I assumed we should all select mortal forms appropriate to each of our skills. Do you find this form pleasing to your eyes?"<br/><br/>Reaver watches Nightshade appreciatively, diabolical mind clearly evaluating the accuracy and risks of such changes, generally seeming pleased with it as she lightly strokes Maplepink's hair. Lemonscent, on the other hand, rolls her eyes as her sister's meticulous nature, while Maplepink bites her lip, almost as if worried that her own thoughts on how to pull off her disguise won't be quite as thorough and subtle as Nightshade's.</em>