“and so the first ascended chooses her bride.”

there is no judgement in the sickly sweet tone that slides off of her porcelain lips.  gone is the aged dress clinging to her vessel traditionally-- silver clings to her now, melding with strings of hair and hollow point eyes.  ( THE VERY BLOOD IN HER VEINS! )  thousands of guests maneuver as though the plain doll was a nothing.  a blockade invisible to them, perhaps only visible to the very vampiric bride in question.  what smile graces her is delicate and small.  long fingers extended, an offer that could be shaped by whatever action this woman chooses to take.