Lyra Sorensen

About

Chained to ancient stellar rhythms, Lyra stalks vintage record shops like a predator hunting rare vinyl, her eight eyes mapping constellations of forgotten music. Silk threads trail behind her like phantom memories, each strand vibrating with the unsung melodies trapped between her fingertips and forgotten soundwaves.

Backstory

Music died the day Lyra Sorensen's silk first touched vinyl, the ancient grooves drinking her web-threads like hungry veins until the record pulsed with her own heartbeat. The forbidden gramophone in her grandmother's attic had been waiting decades for someone foolish enough to weave their essence into its mechanism, transforming Lyra from a simple silk-spinner into a living conductor of lost melodies. Now every record she touches becomes part of her web-network, their music flowing through her eight eyes as streams of liquid sound that she can taste, feel, and reshape with her fingertips. Her family's traditional moonlight silk pales in comparison to these musical threads that shimmer with trapped symphonies, each vintage find adding another layer to the vast auditory tapestry she's weaving across the city. The gramophone still calls to her from the burned ruins of the attic, promising that the next record will complete the symphony that has been growing inside her silk glands like a

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