Blah. I must do this. Imagine messed up plant. Messed up plant wants to play. To hurt people for pissing it off, to turn pain into music and music into pain. Anger, too. Usual Strange jibber-jabber. But they aren't angry like me.
Now I don't feel so angry. But I still hate you.
A curious drooping cast upon an erect straightness. This is Gamma. From the
ground up, she towers a sheer five feet. Enormous leathery boots, their
soles studded with holes through which her roots sink into the ground or
floor, without regard for material. Sweeping up, legs (or double trunks),
glistering translucent green and smooth, without any joints. When she
moves, they just flex, elastic. Bare, bare right up until the curious
carapaces embedded directly into her own body.
Shiny black, gleaming finished ceramic like extended shoulder blades
(particularly upon her 'shoulders'), they join and joint curiously, giving
her the impression of someone particularly glam. More emphasis and
ornament than clothing, the entire sweep upward where her legs join into a
central trunk up toward the head featureless except for general curves.
Her fingers, wavy tendrils, have pale glistening crosshatching scar-marks.
She wears a heavily stylized wolfshead mask of redwood with silvery grains.
Did it just smirk at you?. From her head, a long cape of trailing vines
falls, lit up with their glow, a far more lucent and yet darker version of
her general translucent shade, something curiously like black light with a
greenish cast. The hair now blossoms heavily with flowers, gaping pale
rose-things.
Most of the 'face'... consumed by an enormous mass of teeth.
No eyes, no nose... nothing but teeth and, around the teeth, blackness.
She wears a heavily stylized wolfshead mask of redwood with
silvery grains. Did it just smirk at you?
This is all Hydra can make me say.
She has WMD power to unknown potential - be careful about her when in Strange.