(Lady Jean Anne enters into the hold primly. In her mortal guise, she is rather average looking, average height, features not unattractive but a bit too severe to be considered pretty or even cute. The glasses perched on her nose are dark and one can barely make out her brown eyes. Jean's brown hair is tied in a tight enough bun. which doesn't help that slight severity. She wears a rather conservative dress of floral print, it neither hugs her waist tight nor billows too loosely. Of course, to fae eyes, everything blooms. The slight severity smooths, and her brown eyes gaining a luster that shines through her glasses. Her once plain lips are now fuller with a natural flush to them. Even the hair trapped in the bun gains a shine. The floral print dress, still modest, now seems of finer material. She is now 'merely' model (Not even supermodel) hot)
(Lady Jean Anne glances about the hold not recognizing it, and trying to place it.) "I think I read about this in one of my studies." (Her brown eyes blink owlishly attempting to note the details. The statue of a troll, gloves at a bar. It all seems familiar as she moves further in. The lay out of the tables has her curious, and where does that door lead, to a library perhaps? She presses a short nailed finger against her glasses to keep them against her face)
(the balefire flares briefly, and she feels something enrouch on her very being and with it, realization) "Wait, I know this place I think. I have to get out!" (She turns to to leave, but it too late! the flame flares, and her dress loses its floral print, becoming more sheer. Her bun breaks loose spilling strands of hair down her back. ) "Oh no!" (Lady Jean Anne grows weak, seeming to stagger under the onslaught, her glasses falling to the floor, shattering into nothing) "It's... it's.." (Her once simply brain brown eyes shift to brillaint dramatic amber over increaasingly sensual cheek bones. Her dress continues to transform, the neckline, once modest now plunging to show increasingly impressive cleavage)
"It's the Firnost curse!" (The dress also becomes backless, how the hell is it staying on? Lady Jane Anne lets loose a low moan as her hair turns auburn, then deep crimson! From her back spring two great silver feathered wings! The now curvacious beauty has long since left 'mere' model beauty in her fey mein, moved well past Supermodel, and gone full blast to 'teh sexxy')
"Yes," (Lady Jean Anne purs running her fingers down her wider hips and hourglass contours) "I'm one of them now, how dreamy! Now to find a man..." (A pause, a nose wrinkle of distaste) "No, not a man. Never again men!" (And licking her lips she goes on the hunt for sexxy sexxy redheaded winged lesbian sidhe delights)
(Firnost has claimed another victim)