Welcome to Gaia! ::

OK... since the "describe the avatar above you" game is so popular, I decided to make a new, harder version of it. This one is similar to the preceding game, but you have to use rhetorical strategies consciously. Metaphors are one way you can do this, but you can also transform the avatar as uhh... "the embodiment of Death" and then use apostrophes by addressing the avatar as "Death."
Basically, just choose a rhetorical strategy that works as imagery and stick with it for one post. Be sure to post what strategy you're using!

Her stance told the world 'she was herself and no one could change that'. She was independent, and by the way she looked she didn't like fight. A lover, not a fighter obviously. I could see where she stood in the world. A moving statue of justice. She was quiet as a child that refuses to talk. That made her mysterious.

[gwinivere, I'm not sure how your technique was the use of allusions... will you explain that to me?]
I'll be using metaphors

He was the sky, full of blue and the expanse of my imagination. There was no other replacement for the loss of the sky when dark clouds covered it. The most wonderful feeling came when those clouds disappeared, revealing him, the one that never changes, though his outward appearance might. That was the secret of his infinite beauty.

He was water, flowing through my hands. Droplets flew through the air, soaring downwind and downstream towards the sea. His element was neutral, but he sought saturation through knowledge. His mind was free now, but he wanted it as concentrated as the Dead Sea. It did not matter that he had to corrupt himself a bit to learn more about life and himself. But it was through this yearning that he maintained his innocence.

she was a trick, noughtiness disguised by innocence. Her hair was a cloud of smoke crowning her head.

The night masked his face, with two stars shining from within the darkness. The sea of black cloaked the rest of his body, leaving only his his skin and hair untainted.

He was a prisoner. But of what? It could be that someone had tried to capture him, but it seemed unlikely. My impression was that he had imprisoned himself, and deprived himself of his own possessions. It would seem like a self-demoting thing, yet his hair, a pool reflecting the blue the sky just before sunset, showed his self-confidence.

Is to be eskimo, like man of snow, now to be carrying kitty for to be in warmth like hot chocolate into your mouth.