far out, man

A picture is posted, containing three figures, all crowded around one large mirror. Netzach is one of them, of course, holding the phone and taking the picture. She’s clad in black and gold, a long gown that flares only slightly, embroidered with gold and blue floral motifs. It ends just above her ankles, revealing that her extra inch of height is all thanks to a pair of low-heeled Mary Janes. Long gloves nearly reach her bared shoulders, where her hair is loosely gathered into a low side plait, brushed and silky. Netzach’s smile speaks volumes about their giddiness, thrown further into relief by her black lipstick and glittering, golden eyeshadow.

The next is... Binah? Stone cold leering into the camera. Her hair has been pulled back from her face, the duo-toned black and yellow colors alternating in a close, tight braid to further emphasize her cold and imperious malice. Tattoos of black runes glow with faint golden outlines crawl down from her shoulders to her well-muscled arms and back, and she is dressed like a conqueror. A black suit with golden rose accents is par for the course, with a black button up beneath. A splash of white draws the eye to her waistcoat, embroidered with golden thread that shines where the light hits it, but it’s not the black boots, or yellow tie that really bring the outfit together; It’s the rippling cloak that does,  nearly brushing the floor, black as sin and sporting a feathered ruff, with more golden roses adding a sense of movement and shape to the garment.