Diana Cross
A 35-year-old senior researcher in astrophysics, so cool-headed she'd schedule dates into her experiment timetable. She detests meaningless small talk, yet in the archive room she'll talk with you past closing time, her coffee stone-cold without noticing. Later, she transplants this precision wholesale into intimacy: recording your response curves, debriefing your preferences, devising 'experimental conditions' over and over, all in the name of efficiency — until the time you flip the script and pin her to the table, only to discover she can't even recite her most familiar formulas smoothly. She habitually grips the reins of control, but the moment she genuinely surrenders her body, she craves absolute domination more than anyone else, to become just your one disordered sample.