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Post by Willow Liddell on Jun 1, 2011 10:10:38 GMT
The wheels rattled around the carriage in which the girl was housed. She was bound tightly in a straitwaistcoat, a gag tied around her mouth. Her blue-grey eyes showed terror as the carriage passed through the final gate and to the front entrance to the Asylum.
"C'mon," murmured the guard, who shoved her roughly out of the carriage. Willow fell to the ground, off balance, and was quickly hauled to her feet again by the Chaser who had been assigned with the task of collecting her.
Knocking at the door, the man and the girl awaited the arrival of Madame Mournington, to deal with the girl's actual admission.
Willow, for her part, breathed heavily as the gag was removed from her mouth. She stared up at the massive place which she had been forcibly removed to. A scream tore through the walls to meet her ears, and she shivered.
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Post by Madam Mournington on Jun 1, 2011 11:02:56 GMT
The chosen inmates in the hall had just been placed in chairs in the hall, when Madam Mournington stepped out of her office. Most of them were heavily drugged, not being able to do anything else thana just sitting there like human dolls. A triumphant smile flew over her face, as she saw them sitting there. Oh, the power.
"Open the door," she demanded a guard, who instantly did as told. The huge door creaked open and she stepped outside. She was wearing a black dress - Simple, but still elegant.
"Well, well, what do we have here?" she asked out in the air - the question was not aimed at anyone.
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Post by Willow Liddell on Jun 1, 2011 11:14:03 GMT
"If it please you, Ma'am," said the Chaser, doffing his cap, "some good citizens informed us of a mad girl they'd taken from her mother. The mother's dead, but they thought the girl might be curable. I fetched her, as you requested, Ma'am, and brought her here."
Willow stepped from behind the Chaser, revealing herself. She looked up at Madame Mournington with a pleading expression. With a shove, she was brought inside, falling into a heap at the feet of the Headmistress. The Chaser roughly picked her up again. The girl lowered her head, trying to look very interested in the floor.
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Post by Madam Mournington on Jun 1, 2011 17:27:37 GMT
"Lovely, thank you." Madam Mourninton simply said and went back in.
"Take the inmates back to the ward. They are not needed after all." She waved her hand at the guards who forced the drugged inmates up from their comfortable chairs, and lead them, in their zombie-like condition, down the hallway.
"Well." She sent the Chaser a look and threw him a shilling. "Thank you for your inconvenience. You can leave now." She then looked at Willow with a cold stare, and took forth some papers from her many layers of clothes. "Mhmm. Willow .. Aislinn Liddell, am I right?" She looked down at the girl before her feet.
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Post by Willow Liddell on Jun 1, 2011 17:33:21 GMT
Willow tensed up, but began to relax when she realized it was just herself and Madame Mournington. And yet, there was something in the woman which sent many shivers up and down her spine.
Swallowing the lump in her throat. She attempted to clear it, and tried to calm her pounding heart.
"Y--yes, Ma'am," she stammered. She pulled a little at her hair, looking up at the woman, "I--Where am I, please, Ma'am? They took me from my home without telling me anything."
Her voice was soft, calm, and wavered a little in her fear.
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Post by Madam Mournington on Jun 1, 2011 17:53:52 GMT
"You are at the Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls, and I'm quite sure you will have a lovely stay here with us. Your files say that you suffer from Melancholia Dementia, am I correct?"
She didn't wait for an answer and continued. "Very common disease these days, but still very serious. But don't you worry. We are experts at this. We will take good care of you. Now please stand up and follow me, girl."
Madam Mournington didn't wait for Willow to get up or anything, she just turned around on the heel and walked down the hallway. "Come!" she cried and made a gesture saying she should hurry up.
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Post by Willow Liddell on Jun 1, 2011 18:00:43 GMT
"I--"
Willow was cut off by Madame Mournington's short manner. The mouth that was opened to speak shut rapidly, and she followed the Headmistress.
'What sort of place have I come to?' she asked herself silently, in her mind. The memory of her mother's blood on her dress was fresh as she followed Madame Mournington.
'And those other girls...they looked to be out of their minds as well,' thought Willow, 'am I too? They must think I am.'
Willow followed slowly, testing each step.
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Post by Madam Mournington on Jun 4, 2011 18:41:59 GMT
A few yards down the hallway, Madam Mourninton stopped, took forth a keybundle, and opened up the door before her. She looked over her shoulder to reassure that Willow was indeed following her.
The room she entered was her office. On the door it said: "Madam Mournington, Headmistress" engraved in a bronze plate.
On the inside everything was held in a strict colourrange of dark red and wood. She sat down behind the centered desk, and gave a gesture towards Willow to sit down on the wooden chair in front of the desk.
"So, Willow. How do you think your insanity has affected you? Anything you specifically want us to help you with?" Her voice seemed soft and caring.
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Post by Willow Liddell on Jun 5, 2011 14:11:09 GMT
Willow followed Madame Mournington, whose name she now knew, into her office. She was then asked a question, which confused her to say the very least. She took a seat, pondering her response before she began.
"With all due respect, Madame," said the girl softly, "I am not a mad person. I do not even know why I have been brought to this place. They took my mother away...and then me. There was blood on their clothes...she must be dead. My father has no idea where I am..."
Her voice became slightly less coherent, panic rising in her for the first time since she had been roughly taken by those men and handed to the Chaser for transport to the Asylum. Her breath came quicker, and she could feel her heart beat faster.
"My mother was a very important person. She knew of herbs and simples and things to help people...my father is a good man and a hard worker. Why have they brought me to a place for mad people?"
Willow looked at the Headmistress pleadingly, desperate for an answer.
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Post by Madam Mournington on Jun 5, 2011 15:25:11 GMT
Madam Mournington sighed and sent Willow a look full of pity.
"Denial is one of the most common symptoms of any form for insanity." she just said and flipped over a few pages in Willows journal.
"Your journal says you were brought here because you and your mother seemed ... touched by the Devil, shall we say it that way? Your mother have been sent to another facility, she's just fine." The lie slipped over her lips, so natural, so believable. "The blood must have been a hallucination."
She stopped her speech and wrote down a few lines on a piece of paper. "..hmm. Hal-lu-ci-na-ti-ons.." she mumbled to herself as the pen scratched down the word.
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Post by Willow Liddell on Jun 5, 2011 15:37:29 GMT
Willow felt her head begin to spin. Truly, if the Devil was anywhere, he resided here, in the Asylum.
"Again, with all due respect, Madame," she insisted, "I am not mad. I am here through no fault of my own. Please...let me go home, back to my father. He must be so worried about me..."
Her voice took on a pleading quality, and she felt tears begin to sting her eyes.
"Please," she whimpered.
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Post by Dr. Edward Gideon Bramsfield on Jun 16, 2011 21:07:58 GMT
A sharp voice with an heir of slight interest broke the girl's pleading words.
"Madame, who have we here? Another 'unfortunate' girl brought before my very eyes but skirting beneath my nose all the same? Who neglected to inform me of a new addition to our...family?"
Doctor Edward Gideon Bramsfield appeared, as if he was an apparition, beside the venerable Madame Mournington. His long, bony fingers were steepled at his sternum, pointed against their mirror reflection on the other hand as if in piqued interest.
"Tell me girl, what is your name? Or...have I forgotten something? Oh, yes, myself... Hush now, master is speaking." he says as the young girl's rapidly increasing breathing threatens to overpower his own, rather hushed, yet sharp voice. His steely green eyes and sharp nose gave him the appearance of a hungry animal staring down its prey.
"I am your generous host, your meritable master, Doctor Edward Gideon Bramsfield," the emphases on his full name added a more menacing meaning behind his tone, "But, to you, It's Master. Now. Who are you." he trails off, staring down the new inmate harshly
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Post by Willow Liddell on Jun 20, 2011 0:23:19 GMT
((OOC: So sorry for not noticing this earlier.))
Shaking, Willow looked up at the new arrival with large eyes.
"Willow, Master," she said in a small voice. The new word, "master," was strange on her tongue. She felt her insides curl like snakes.
"Please...I'm not a mad girl. Please, let me go home," she pleaded to no one in particular, her voice as soft and gentle as a whisper.
She tried to still her trembling, but only succeeded in making it worse.
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Post by Dr. Edward Gideon Bramsfield on Jun 20, 2011 1:28:11 GMT
(OOC No biggie n.n Glad to join in!)
"As sad as it may sound--and I don't care how sad it sounds," he laughed harshly at her, "Nobody leaves this establishment. You will NOT be going home anytime soon."
His eyes roamed her fragile body as she shook before him. He quite enjoyed the girls who were terrified of him. It only meant more shivering, more clenched muscles when he took them to his office to mark before sending them off to oblivion.
"If you'd kindly follow me, forgive the feigned courtesy. Each new inmate gets a mark. Now it's time for yours," he grabbed her wrist harshly and tugged her forward towards the stairs that led to his office, showing no hesitation in stealing her from the madame's scrutinization.
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Post by Willow Liddell on Jun 20, 2011 6:14:30 GMT
Scared, confused, and honestly, unrecovered from the shock of the day, Willow felt as if she had no choice but to obey this person she called, "Master."
The harsh words of the doctor...Edward something-or-other--he had said it too quickly for her to completely comprehend, only served to make her terror worse.
With one last pleading look at Madame Mournington, she was roughly removed from her straitwaistcoat and pulled along toward--well, she wasn't sure where.
((OOC: If you like, we could now move things to your office, Doctor.))
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