LA DOTTORESSA

Parvin
The Doctor
Little Viper
Lady Mehrabi

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Nearly four centuries ago, there lived in the snowy north a fae scholar named Meluza, a rare being of the old world, neither wholly spirit nor mortal, possessed of a brilliance that rivaled the greatest minds of any nation. Though her kind seldom concerned themselves with humanity, Meluza found mortals endlessly fascinating. Frail, fleeting, irrational... and yet capable of such extraordinary ingenuity.

Her curiosity led her to walk among them for many years under countless names, earning quiet renown as a healer, alchemist, and scholar.

It was during this time that she first crossed paths with a man whose infamy had already begun to spread through Snezhnaya’s darker circles, one of the Fatui Harbingers, the Doctor, a man whose genius was matched only by his depravity. Intrigued by the rumors surrounding him, Meluza infiltrated his ranks under false pretenses, disguising herself among his soldiers and attendants to observe his work firsthand. She did not remain undiscovered for long, yet rather than dispose of the intruder, the Doctor found himself equally interested in the peculiar immortal peering over his shoulder.

Thus began a partnership built not on trust, nor affection, but on mutual fascination.

They worked side by side for decades, exchanging knowledge, assisting in each other’s experiments, and clashing at every opportunity. Their temperaments were volatile, their morals nonexistent, and their arguments frequent enough that many laboratories required rebuilding afterward. Still, for all their hostility, neither could deny the value of the other’s mind.

When the Doctor began pursuing his research into artificial selves and segmented consciousness, Meluza stood beside him as one of the few capable of understanding his work in full. Yet while his efforts turned toward the replication of the self, theirs turned toward the creation of something entirely new.

Using their own flesh, blood, and methods better left undocumented, the two began work on a joint experiment, an attempt to create life not as imitation, but as innovation. It took years for the prototype to stabilize.

By the time the child finally opened her eyes, the Doctor had already perfected the technology that would eventually produce his Segments. What had once begun as a preliminary test should have, by all logic, been discarded.

Meluza refused, for the creature born in that laboratory was no failed draft nor obsolete prototype. She was something greater.

Raised beneath sterile lights and among dissecting tables, Virelle knew no childhood beyond the laboratory walls. Both her parents molded her in their image, subject, daughter, student, and apprentice all at once.

From the moment she could walk, she followed them through the laboratory with tireless fascination, more captivated by gleaming instruments and opened tomes than by any toy or comfort. She did not cry when needles pierced skin nor when scalpels left their marks; rather, she watched with bright-eyed curiosity, fascinated by every incision, every adjustment, every improvement made to her form. By the age of ten, her body already bore the evidence of countless procedures in pale scars layered upon one another, yet she wore them without shame. To others, such treatment would have been monstrous. To Virelle, it was education. She learned to associate pain not with suffering, but with progress, and in those bloodstained halls developed the insatiable hunger for science that would define her for the rest of her life.

Meluza, once famed among mortals as a healer, became her foremost instructor in medicine and biological manipulation, while the Doctor taught her what he knew of machinery, ruin technology, and the philosophy of transcending mortal limitation.

Between them, they raised a monster with perfect manners and blood beneath her nails.

For a time, theirs was a rare equilibrium.

Then came the night it shattered.

By Virelle’s seventeenth year, the partnership between her creators had long since begun to decay. What had once been mutual respect had soured into ideological conflict, resentment, and old wounds left to fester. Their arguments became more vicious, more frequent, until at last one escalated beyond either’s control.

One of the Doctor’s unstable experimental subjects, provoked amidst the chaos, broke containment.

Virelle arrived only in time to witness the aftermath, her mother collapsed in spreading crimson, mortally wounded before her eyes. Whether the creature acted by instinct, madness, or at the Doctor’s own negligence remains unclear. None who were present have ever agreed on the details.

What is known is this: Virelle screamed. For the first time in many years, she wept, and while her father stood silent amidst the carnage, she threw herself beside Meluza’s body and demanded he help her save her. Perhaps out of curiosity. Perhaps guilt. Perhaps because he wished to see what she would do.

The Doctor allowed it, and together they worked through the night as Virelle desperately attempted to reverse death itself, stitching flesh, replacing blood, forcing life back into what the world had already claimed. But dawn came regardless, and when the sun rose, Meluza remained dead.

Virelle did not leave that laboratory broken. She left it changed.

That night, standing over her mother’s corpse with bloodied hands and trembling breath, she obtained her Vision, not from grief, but from revelation.

For if life could be created, then death, too, must be solvable.

From that day onward, resurrection ceased to be fantasy in her mind. It became hypothesis, and thus began the obsession that would define the rest of her life.

• After the events of 6.3... Virelle, at 36, became La Dottoressa, taking her father's place among the Eleven Fatui Harbingers and his title as The Doctor. It was a bittersweet feeling and it brought madness into her life again, stronger than before, yet quieter than the one that came at her younger years.

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_{see the segments here !}