Though her mien ranges from electrifying and gravitational to hardnosed and hellacious, River's movements reliably embody the same powerful fluidity and certitude of her namesake. Heiress to the steeping critical silver gaze of her late father, she does not try to hide her scrutiny and in turn invites it. (After all, there is little to criticize.)
Her form is that of a refined ingot – layered in earthly tones of cocoa, fawn, and cream – with untamed decadence that pulls others in only to draw blood on contact. The atmosphere surrounding her presence seems to be in perpetual flux, too, not unlike a dose of false sedatives: lulling most into a sense of ease until the placebo effect wears off.