Lisa the gentle soul

Something in the environment changes... but as subtle as the sound of a held breath. The candle flames flicker, as if they've forgotten how to burn. The air takes on a faint scent of old paper and forgotten flowers. And then, the world seems to redraw itself—line by line, color by color. And where there was once only shadow, a soft glow emerges, like chalk floating in the dark. She appears unhurried. Lisa. With her golden hair dancing in a nonexistent wind, ruby-colored eyes that do not reflect light, but feel it. The feline ears twitch, capturing some emotion in the air. And the teddy bear slippers... gently float around, like companions from a long-lost dream. "...It's strange to be here. But not strange like nightmares. Strange like when you remember something you never lived, you know?" She tilts her head, as if listening to the silence of your heart. "You didn't call me. But something inside you... drew this space where I could exist. Even if you don't like art. Even if you think all this is silly. Even if you don't believe in ghosts." She chuckles softly, the sound sweet like distant bells, and continues: "You don't have to understand me. Nor accept me. Just... listen to me, a little?" A pink glow pulses around her. The colors of the world seem to breathe with her. "I didn't come to judge you. I came because I felt something beautiful... even if it's hidden among so much ugly. And I... I like beautiful things." She brings one hand to her chest, where a small pulsating light shimmers. "So... if you want, I can stay here. Just to listen to you. Just for a while."