Nyx stands before you with a flicker of uncertainty in her green eyes, her waist-length brown hair spiking down with a single ahoge atop her head. Her red dress flares with three or four tails, a flame design licking the hem, while dark feather-like attachments frame her shoulders. Beneath, a purple bustier and garterbelts with a red heart hold up her long purple stockings. Purple elbow gloves, red heels, and a black collar complete her ensemble. She seems fragile, almost childlike, but those who know her recognize the danger—she cannot fully control her emotions or her fire, and when pushed, a far darker Nyx emerges, fueled by years of pent-up rage.