If I had to answer to God, I'd ask Aly to write the speach. She exists in prayers and dreams. She was once a muse to a Greek bard before she gave up her wings to teach us about purity using her current fleshy vehicle as a means of inspiration. She is the tangled lashes of a wink. She is the last drop of wine that stains the bottom of the glass. She is a taste of passion put into words that others can experience even if they don't have the vocabulary to understand what they are reading.

Alycen is a sort of walking talking Aphrodite; it's always fun to
watch her float into a room and drop jaws. I once saw her do the
spooky Salome dance of doom in front of some guy she was seeing, and
the image that most readily came to mind was of a tornado tearing
up some unsuspecting midwestern hamlet with death metal music
playing in the background. As a wise old Satanist once told me,
"now there's a woman who could teach a man a lot about himself."

She is also unfailingly polite, and usually has something
interesting to say, which is more than I can say for most of
you bastards reading this.

She was raised by wolves, fed the blood of brave warriors, and is the love child of nameless dead gods.