Dione de Anima

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Dione hails from Arcadia. In the sparkling eyes of this young Caryatid dwells a spirit as old as humanity itself. That gaze! Sparkling and glowing, mischievous and wise, irresistible, fatally alluring… as if Thessalian witches had rocked her in their arms. A wild, magnificent girl! Pan himself is her matchmaker when she loosens her balmy curls, smiling charmingly, the dancing nymph, and the naturalness with which she lolls promises bucolic delights. She can be as gentle as a lamb, if she so chooses. If! That wonderfully mocking laugh, when Dione is sure of her own cause… Don’t panic. Dione knows exactly what she’s doing. She is a Greek hetaera.

Dione about herself.

I read the room. I sense its vibrations. As a diplomat, I am skilled at gauging tensions and contrasts, and navigating between them with deft elegance. A supple dance. The energy flows through me; I offer it no resistance. I engage without allowing myself to be consumed. I can empathise with the slightest stirrings, whilst remaining a mystery myself. Smiling like the Sphinx. Serene and composed like a goddess. You cannot get the better of me. In the end, I always do only what I want.