The House of Spiders. An anomalous, near-endless place that the faction of the very same name called home. Correction, to the others- a home. To her, a prison. The line of thought carried on, reminding her of the sweet dew that gathered upon mildew in the early morning. The sight of impossibly tall mountains, like spikes of spiraling, natural earth. Even the smell of freshly cut grass was what she missed. For the room she knelt in was her eternal prison, fitted with technology that ensured that each sliding door leading out led right back into the same exact room.

Where she knelt upon a pillow, a candle was nearby which she used to light her pipe, filling the stagnant air with the scent of floral smoke. An ornate white kimono with blue accents sat heavy upon her shoulders, slightly oversized for her thin body with several blue ribbons tied to her headwear, wrists and obi. Her pale, wrinkled face was covered by a veil, translucent, adorned with a flower pattern that is similar to the patterns on her sleeves and hem. A rope was worn around her neck, cascading down her shoulders with two talismans that hung at her waist. And her hair, unkempt, spiky, black with blue streaks and slick with oil from a lack of care.

Her white gloves hold the smoking pipe between her middle and index finger. With the muscle memory bestowed upon her hands to be able to pick up the massive odachi by her side, a huge, white with azure accents blade that with her skills, despite her unfit body, could rend space.

Her piercing red eyes, half-lidded, looked downward towards the floor. Mourning the life that was left behind, chained by the responsibility of her parenthood.