[hr][center][sub][color=cecece]One Month Ago[/color] [color=FFCFF1]《》[/color] [color=cecece]Madame Bisset speaking to Lady Rosemarie about Lady Melody[/color] [color=FFCFF1]《》[/color] [color=cecece]The Haven for Wayward Girls[/color] [color=FFCFF1]《》[/color][@Memoria][/sub][/center][hr][table][row][/row][row][cell][url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5383761][img]https://i.imgur.com/pt4mTWr.jpeg[/img][/url][color=2e2c2c]▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇[/color][/cell][cell][quote]

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[color=f7976a]"So, what seems to be your concern?"[/color] Lady Rosemarie begins, [color=f7976a]"Is it about our new attendant, Lady Melody?"[/color] 

Madame Bisset is a herbalist from France, a wise, older woman whose keen sense of people has provided her with immense insight into the inner workings of humanity. Her enlightened gift grants her the ability to influence plant life. She can plant a seed and urge it to bloom in mere minutes. Simple, yes, but quite a marvelous and invaluable gift. She's been an essential steward of The Haven and one of Lady Rosemarie's closest confidantes. The Madame's lip tightens as her eyes fall to the near-empty tea cup resting on her lap. She seems lost in her thoughts, aimlessly twirling the spoon in an unrefined manner. After a moment, she gathers herself, ending the mindless motion of her aging wrist as she looks up. 

[color=silver]"You know, she reminds me of lavender steeped in midnight. Calming, but if you brew her wrong... poisonous in ways you won’t taste until it’s too late."[/color]

Lady Rosemarie's eyebrow lifts delicately, [color=f7976a]"Go on..."[/color]

[color=silver]"I've grown quite fond of her, truly. I would even say I admire her, but she is dangerous. Gentle by nature, but dangerous nonetheless. Helpful, if treated carefully, but the potential harm she may impose upon others if her gift is misused concerns me."[/color] 

Lady Rosemarie says nothing, only her eyes narrow in attentiveness, her body shifting with a sense of curiosity at Madame Bisset's carefully chosen language.

The herbalist continues, more bluntly now, [color=silver]"Mon ami, let me put it this way. Melody's danger lies in her reach, non? She can enter a person's emotional world so...seamlessly, so convincingly, that she blurs the line between comfort and control. She can become exactly what someone needs, but in doing so, she may also bend their will, dull their instincts, or awaken feelings that were never fully theirs to begin with. The gentleness of her magic makes it harder to resist. That subtlety is what makes her dangerous."[/color]

[color=f7976a]"I see..."[/color]

[color=silver]"Rosemarie, mon ami, I only heed this warning out of caution for the girls, for you, for The Haven. I've seen her magic firsthand, time and time again. And you know of her past almost better than anyone. The poor woman...but her good intentions can still lead to destruction, and these girls are highly impressionable. Lady Melody may sever bonds to protect someone, but what if she cuts too deep? What if she breaks a connection that could have been mended with time, or silences love before it has the chance to bloom? She is a powerful empath, which makes her vulnerable to others' emotions and to severing those crucial bonds that tie us all together."[/color]

Madame Bisset pauses suddenly, her countenance shifting as if she regrets having brought it up at all. But in the end, she is a woman who speaks from the gut, from the heart.

[color=silver]"I only fear that, one day, Melody will act from a place of exhaustion, grief, or misplaced devotion, and in doing so, accidentally destroy something sacred and essential. Frankly, I've never once treated her like a porcelain doll, nor a weapon, but rather, a storm dressed in silk. Beautiful. Gentle beyond reason. But that woman, I believe, is capable of ruin..."[/color]

[hr][center][sub][color=cecece]Present Day[/color] [color=FFCFF1]《》[/color] [color=cecece]Lady Melody Heathering[/color] [color=FFCFF1]《》[/color] [color=cecece]The Haven for Wayward Girls[/color] [color=FFCFF1]《》[/color][@Memoria][/sub][/center][hr]

The girl hadn’t stopped shaking since she crossed the threshold.

She was curled in the smallest corner of the parlor, knees tucked beneath her like she could disappear inside herself. Her name was Eliza, or at least, that was what she whispered when asked. Melody had offered warm tea, a wool blanket, and silence; the first two accepted with trembling hands, the last with desperate gratitude. But Melody didn’t need words to understand. She could see it.

Eliza’s aura quivered around her like a torn ribbon; sharp pinks of shame, bruised yellows of fear, the gray-green rot of long-endured dread. It clung to her like wet fabric. Melody’s eyes, tonight a gentle rose-gold, shimmered faintly as she knelt before the girl, careful not to startle her.

[color=FFCFF1][b]“I’ll sit here,”[/b][/color] she murmured, folding her skirts beside her. [color=FFCFF1][b]“That’s all. Just sit.”[/b][/color]

And for a while, she did. But as she breathed, the space between them changed. Melody softened, not just her voice, but the tilt of her spine, the curve of her shoulders, the shape of her very presence. She became something quieter, smaller, more fragile. The fear in the girl didn’t vanish, but it recognized Melody’s mirrored ache, and it loosened. Eliza reached for her hand.

[color=silver]“He said I was his,”[/color] the girl whispered. [color=silver]“He said I was the only thing keeping him alive.”[/color]

Melody’s smile didn’t falter, but her pupils flickered slightly, like candlelight catching wind.

[color=FFCFF1][b]“My dear,”[/b][/color] she said, gently, [color=FFCFF1][b]“you are not a thing. And he does not get to live by swallowing your light.”[/b][/color]

With those kind words, Eliza fell into her arms. They sat there in silence for a while. And Melody, eventually humming a lullaby and watching the colors around the girl soften into shades of peace, held her until she drifted into slumber. With the help of a nearby butler, they carried her to an empty bed in one of the shared living quarters for the younger-aged girls and tucked her under the cool cotton. She hardly stirred. Lady Melody didn't need to see her aura to realize she had not found a peaceful rest for quite some time. And the other girls were out on break thankfully. So in repose, Eliza could finally have a moment to dream sweet.

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Eliza
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Madame Bisset
[img]https://i.imgur.com/Q4bZSxZ.jpeg[/img]
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