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DOB: 07 aug 1878
DISTINGUISHING MARKS: Large horizontal scar across the throat.
RELEASE DATE: 30-12-1902 (deceased)
CHARGES: Consorting with Demons, Self Harm, Pathological Liar
TRUNCATED REPORT: At the age of ten, parent reports that patient started to show signs of demonic possession. These signs included singing in Latin, compulsive prayer in tongues, and vulgar lies about her remaining parent. Upon admittance, patient had several marks upon her body that parent claims she performed on herself. Involuntarily committed until safe for society.
Belle’s mother died under what the police called mysterious circumstances. There was nothing mysterious about it. Her mother, Claudia Morte, was a wealthy widow who married well below her. Her new husband, Jefferson Davis had use for his wife’s position and money, but little use for her. It was no accident that she fell down the stairs and Belle knew it. Having been raised Catholic – while Jefferson was barely literate – it was no surprise that he could not understand the songs she sang in her grief or the litanies that she prayed over her rosary beads.
Had that been all, the two could have lived in harmony. But she was not quite ten when he started to come into her room at night. When she fought, he hurt her. When neighbors heard the screams, he locked her in the attic and told them that he was having problems with her sanity. When she told, he claimed her a compulsive liar. She was fifteen when it peaked. Jackson had brought a knife to keep her quiet. As he took her, she screamed out her rosary and he nearly slit her throat. There was blood everywhere and he bundled her up. He took her to Marshalsea. She’d caused the wound herself while screaming in tongues.
At first, Belle thought it was a relief. She was a pretty girl though. They came at her as a group. Bella screamed and screamed and once again, got her throat slit for it. Only this time, it was done properly. Bella stood, watching as they actually took turns and finished with her corpse before one went running to say that they’d found her with a knife and that she’d managed to slit her throat good and proper this time.
As a ghost, Belle was silent. Speaking and screaming had gotten her nothing but death. Death was quiet and expected little of her. She avoided the other male ghosts, be they guards or fellow inmates. In truth, she avoided pretty much everyone. That said, she was one of the stronger ghosts. Many of the sightings were of her, and she could often be heard singing or praying in abandoned parts of the asylum. Then a boy came. He was a human boy and he was not there all the time, at least she didn’t think so. Time was different for ghosts. But he seemed so sweet and quiet and he played the most beautiful music. Belle took to sitting on the end of his bed, just listening to him play.
Belle is a very sweet and quiet girl. She was raised to be a socialite and graced with the education of her time. Part of that education is that a proper young lady is to be seen and not heard. Belle knew her place – it was others who did not know there’s and forced her from hers. Her default is a quiet, sweet demeanor. She is intelligent, and literate, but has little book learning. When she is comfortable around someone, she is full of laughter and bright smiles. While her friends called coquettish, it is not deliberate. Belle is somewhat of a natural flirt, but it is in a subtle and very old fashioned way. During her mother’s life, Belle was somewhat religious – as it was part of her upbringing. After her mother’s death, she became incredibly religious. Now that she knows through her own death that it was all a lie – it is merely a comfort to her. Habit. Belle very much likes habit. While she was not like this in life, in death, she tends to obsess. It is a way to pass the time perhaps.
Other girls always envied Belle. The only reason it did not draw enemies was because she was so sweet. Her hair was a lush strawberry blond and was usually worn hanging down, long and straight. Her eyes are a large and bright blue with a soft expression enhanced by delicate features. Her petite frame left her with the monikers “sprite” and “sylph” among close friends, as even in life she had an otherworldly look about her.
Annabelle Patricia Morte was born to Michelle Julien Morte and Claudia Anne Fontaine on August 7, 1878. She was born in New Orleans, LA, but after the Yellow Fever took her father, Claudia sold the plantation and the townhouse and moved to Pittsburgh, PA where she had a married sister whose husband was well established in the steel industry. For some time, it was just Annabelle and Claudia. First, her mother spent a respectable time in mourning. After that, Claudia found it distasteful the way she was courted for her fortune.
When Belle was around six, Claudia met a man who proposed to have just come over from England. He had bona fides that made it seem as if the courtship was genuine and they were wed. Of course, the bona fides were false. Jefferson Davis did not have penny nor property to his name until he sent Claudia tumbling down the stairs. Then he suddenly had the Morte fortune at his disposal – the only price a wide eyed child shoved off into the care of a governess so that he did not have to look at her accusatory gaze. It was not a terrible existence. Belle did not have to deal with her step-father, her needs were met, and she had always been the sort to have a few close friends rather than the sort to need the masses around her for adoration. She was allowed to go to socials and even had a beau. Her aunt’s husband had a nephew of an age who seemed kind and was well connected and a good match. It had been settled even before her mother’s remarriage.
Belle did not know what changed. She did not understand the day that Jefferson looked at her and saw not an annoying little girl but a pretty young woman. In truth, she was not a young woman yet when he first came to her bed. She was confused, then hurt, then angered when she realized what had happened. Her life changed dramatically. She was no longer allowed to be among her friends or anything else. She was largely confined while he accepted sympathy for dealing with the plight of a young girl’s sensitive nerves. The only thing causing her nerves to be sensitive was the abuse she took at his hands at night. Confusion faded quickly and led to screams and struggles – which led to more lies about her weakening mental state.
He claimed to be preparing her for the marriage bed, but Belle knew these were things not done until the marriage bed and moreover, things not done in most marriage beds. The neighbors were starting to talk. If the girl was that poorly, surely Mr. Davis could not handle it alone. He couldn’t have that… so he brought a knife in thinking he could silence her. He quite nearly silenced her permanently, slitting her throat. It worked just as well though, as it warranted a trip to Marshalsea and a story to the world that the poor creature had done it to herself.
Once healed, Belle’s instant reaction was that Marshalsea meant peace. Jefferson was not there to plague her. There was a piano in the common room, and she loved to play and sing. Due to what Jefferson had told them, none of the doctors believed her and kept trying to get her to tell the truth… but Belle was not overly bothered by that. She did miss her creature comforts. Belle had been born into luxury. She missed fancy dresses and fine linens. While her governess had brought one trunk for her, there had been none to follow. Belle took as good care of them as she could, but wondered at the outside world, at her friends, at her beau and if he was getting married to someone else… Jefferson had seen to it that everyone thought she was quite mad, so she had no visitors. Soon, she stopped talking at all and spent most of her time by herself.
It had not been a smart decision. The guards had decided that she had gone mute and the mute girls were easy targets. She still took care of herself and was still very pretty. She was hiding alone in her room one day when she heard a group talking about the pretty one and how it didn’t matter because she was ruined anyway and she was never leaving here and even if she did make a sound, it would be the last sound she made… Belle idly wondered if they were speaking about her. She’d been living in her head for over a week now, refusing to speak to doctors, nurses, and patients alike. When they came into her room that night she knew. What they didn’t know is that she had no intention of going quietly into that good night. Belle, the silent one, screamed as loud as she could. She felt the cold steel slice against her throat, and then she watched, standing over the scene as each took his turn with her dead body before the last pulled her dress down and went to tell the warden that “that crazy one that doesn’t talk found a knife and did herself in for good this time.”
The biggest disappointment was that Belle’s faith was a lie. There was no heaven, no hell, no purgatory… she was just there. It was time to go about the business of being dead. It was peace… though she saw far more dead than she had alive. She avoided the other ghosts and, for the most part, went back to her policy of silence. There was nothing else that could be taken from her now. Oddly, for one of the most unassuming spirits, she was one of the strongest at Marshalsea. Never one to be able to stand her room a mess, Belle kept it perfectly neat – no matter who or what came in and mussed it. That caused quite a stir and soon it was simply left alone. She had her trunk of well cared for clothes, and found them in better care than they had been when she died. While she tried to avoid areas occupied by humans, there were many sightings of her wandering the grounds, in empty rooms, playing the piano late at night, the sound of her singing echoing through the halls, and even her prayers – which had become more habit than anything.
The closed Marshalsea and the humans left, but they did not stay gone. One by one, they started to gather – only this time of their own free will. This meant little to Belle, only that she would have to be more careful in her actions. Then a boy started to come around. He reminded her much of her beau, only there was a broken tenderness there. He seemed painfully shy. Like her, he liked things neat. Like her, he liked music… only he played an instrument she’d never paid much mind to before. It did not take long before she’d become obsessed with the human boy. She’d spend time in his room when he wasn’t there. When he was there, she’d sit on the end of his bed and listen to him play guitar, daring any of the more malevolent spirits to enter.
37 TIME ZONE: pst – usually on from early afternoon to middle of night
aim is best AIM:
jouez moi EXPERIENCE: 10+ with 8+ creating, running, and moderating games
STYLE:Third Person Past Tense – (THREAD, AIM, GDOCS)
PB: Adrianna Krowicka
→Belle gets easily obsessed – over a piece of music, one particular friend, etc.
→After a social, Belle’s beau kissed her. She thought it quite magical.
→The reason Belle is such a powerful ghost is that she doesn’t waste her energy. She is at peace.
→Belle adores boys but is terrified of them after what her father and the guards did.
→She is absolutely without vanity. While her friends were always jealous, Belle never really saw herself as beautiful and often laughed that she was only beautiful if being an elf came back in style.
→Belle actually saw Jefferson push her mother down the stairs, but told no one.
→The loss of her faith was a big blow, but she is still observant because she doesn’t know how not to be.
→Belle is still angry at her mother for marrying Jefferson – and thus dying and causing her own torture.
→Belle never tries to haunt, she just seems to be the one who has the easiest time coming through.
→Belle wonders what would happen if she actually touched a human.