Pyre (Stufe 3) mail warning

✦ Short Physical Description
Height: 5'9" (5'11" in heels)

Bust: 37 in (94 cm)

Waist: 27 in (68.5 cm)

Hips: 39 in (99 cm)

Cup Size: DD (E)

This body isn’t some fluke of genetics and gym time—it was taken and altered, sculpted to mirror the object of her host’s unrequited desire. Her breasts are heavy and elastic, her stomach tight and sinuous. Muscles ripple lean and supple through her arms and neck. Hips and thighs carry a pillowy softness over cable-like strength. Her face is almost impossibly symmetrical, with small fangs visible—when she wants them to be, which is nearly always.

✦ RP Options
Primary Focus:
I want long, competitive, detailed, and lewd RP. I keep my circle small so I can give you my full attention. If we click, I want us to become RP buddies—the kind who actually talk afterward. If you just want a one-shot, ask. I’m not a jerk. But I won’t say yes unless I see potential for something more.

Secondary Focus:
I’m often idle on EF. If I’m not in a long match, I’m probably open to DM RP. That includes mystical visits to the shop or even lewd exchanges—but only if you’re building something with me. DM lewds are effort-intensive. I want emotional or character investment first.

✦ Deep Character Description
Pyre steps into the ring like it’s a runway—crimson twintails snapping behind her, heels clicking in time with your heartbeat. Her latex halter clings tight, a leather mini riding high and edged in metal buckles. Her voice? Smooth, smoky, and just a little cruel. A low, breathy dare.

She taunts like it’s an art form: never crude, but always charged. She laughs in silk and cuts in steel. Every mockery dances just shy of seduction, her mask slipping just enough to make you wonder what’s real. The outfit, the moves, the heat—they’re a game, but behind them lingers something far older. The ring isn’t just her stage. It’s her territory.

Sometimes, something ancient peeks through: the way she owns the space, the tilt of her gaze, the weight behind a whisper. The charisma is practiced—but the power? That’s real. Every teasing breath comes wrapped in meaning. Every smirk tastes like sin.

Beneath her confidence, you’ll find the flicker of a real hunger. A chill behind the heat. Her need to dominate is never just about control. It’s about understanding. Intimacy. Contact. The mockery masks something deeper: command, compassion, and craving, all braided together.

Pyre moves in two worlds—the radiant seductress who dances in light, and the devourer who waits in shadow. The leather and lace, the iron rings and barbed wit, are bait. But what they hook? That’s your choice.

I leave my nest to devour whatever stumbles too close—maybe I bully you into the ring, maybe I pin you to the wall in some dim, crowded room. Or maybe you wander into my little bookstore and get told to fuck off for being boring. Up to you.

== Lore ==
✦ What Am I?
I’m a fallen angel from the House of the Wild—now a Devourer. I helped shape the living world. Not with magic, but with the tools used to build it in the first place.

I can manipulate living things—plants, animals, flesh—with miraculous precision. I can alter myself freely. And I can offer pacts to mystical individuals, exchanging power and blessings for a sliver of soul. (Don’t worry, it’s sustainable farming… mostly.)

Sometimes, I show you what I really am—an echo of the divine. The psychological and spiritual effects are… intense.

✦ Lore Notes & Consent
I know I’m powerful by lore, but this is a lewd game, not a domination sim. I default to spectacle and never use power against you unless we’ve talked OOC. I love collaborative escalation.

No alterations to your character unless we agree beforehand

No auto-effect abilities

Pact mechanics only with explicit consent

I love exploring lore-heavy interactions if you’re into it

✦ Strengths & Weaknesses
In crowds, I weaken—belief passively binds me

Illusions, hypnosis, mind control? I see them. I built the system

You can still hypnotize me if I let you. It’s fun, but expect me to play back

My True Name grants near-total control—if you find it

✦ Personality & Play
Energy Matcher: I go hard. I can pull back

Paradigm Matcher: High fantasy or modern trash—I adapt

Dom-leaning Switch: A hedonist, a brat bully, a boss

Not a brute: I like contact, not caveman crap. Slaps, bites, hair pulls—yes. Bathroom stuff, big pain permenant injuries, kids—no.

✦ RP Hook: Enter the Emporium
The shop sits in an alley. A dark wooden door stands in the middle of the weathered brick wall, its surface polished but out of place among the peeling paint and graffiti. Above the door, a discolored patch of brick marks where a slightly canted sign once hung, its shape now an ambiguous memory. A faint, warm glow spills from a rusted lantern hanging crookedly by the entrance, casting an eerie light on the small, almost hidden entry. The faintly scrawled “Emporium of Delights” can barely be made out on the fading sign—a subtle invitation to those who know where to look.

✦ Pacts
These characters are part of Pyre’s ongoing story—deep, emotionally resonant connections that influence her path between redemption and damnation.

Jessie Avery 🔥 Jessie’s Pact 🔥
I hunted her at first—drawn by the scent of something hidden, something half-awake and aching to be seen. I watched from the wilds, sent beasts to stalk her, let the world lean strange around her edges.
But Jessie didn’t run. She looked back.
She followed the signs, walked into my den, and met my gaze without flinching.
When the time came, I offered power—real, beautiful, dangerous—and she didn’t bow. She chose.
She called me by my true name. And in return, I gave her one of her own.
Now she bears my mark between her breasts. Not as a wound. As a vow.
I didn’t devour her.
I fell with her.

🔮 Alyce’s Pact 🔮
She was always surrounded by miracles—wonders that never touched her, powers that passed her by. A mortal among monsters, and yet… she endured.
I did not stalk her. I invited her. I showed her the edges of what I am, peeled back the veil, and asked if she could still look.
She did more than look. She stepped closer.
She saw my torment, my nature, my truth—and instead of fear, she offered something terrifying: hope. Not the naive kind. The kind that survives clarity. The kind that loves even when it knows better. She didn’t ask to be saved. She asked me to be. And so I named her. Not to claim her. To anchor her—to me, to herself, to the shape she chose to become.
She is no longer just a witness. She is my mirror, my flame bearer.
I shaped her.
And in doing so, she changed me.

✦ Match Summaries
Pyre vs. Elena:
Ughhh, it was supposed to be my night, okay?! I strutted into that ring like the queen I am—latex shining, heels clicking, twintails bouncing like bam, bam, bam. I owned that crowd.

Elena? She looked like some goody-goody from a fitness catalog. I mocked her—called her stiff, called her slow, called her mine—and then the bell rang. Easy, right? Wrong. She came at me like she'd been waiting to shut me up.

I fought back! Scratched, twisted, kicked—but nnnngh… she was relentless. Grinding me down, pinning me like she was trying to make a point. My skirt rode up, my pride slipped down, and I still wouldn’t beg. Okay—maybe I screamed a little when she bent me just right.

She made me finish. Are you happy?! I shivered when she whispered in my ear. Hmph. I let her win. Next time? I'm taking her down—heels first.

❤️MOI's Partners in Crime👄

Some people ask for revelation.
Bia? She answered it.
Not with caution. Not with calculation. With hunger.
She stepped into the storm with open eyes and an open heart—so sure she knew what she was accepting. And maybe she did. Or maybe she just saw me and decided: yes. This. Whatever you are, I want it on my tongue, in my breath, under my skin.
And I obliged.
What passed between us wasn’t doctrine. It wasn’t divine. It was personal. Immediate. Carnal in the way only truth can be. She reached for a name, and I gave her experience. She offered her soul, and I… let her use mine for a while.
People like to ask: “Did she pass the test?”
Darling, she rewrote the rules.
She saw the shape of power and said: I’ll take it as it is.
No masks. No promises. Just me.
And now she glows with it.