mariesinfernos

[mariesinfernos]

( @fengforhire -- The Lindon Manor in the evening )

"Can't believe she even got fucking balloons." It's not one of her surprise birthday parties, if it isn't atrociously fire-themed. Marie stares the red, orange and yellow balloons down from where she's smoking on the balcony, until the smoke clouds her vision, and she turns around the face the night. Darkness, her favorite friend, because it ultimately means the absence of light, and therefore, also fire. "God, can she not fucking read the room?", Marie mutters when her mother staggers over to the balcony, rips the door open and fakes a series of coughs.

"Marie! How dare you!", she complains, when her daughter drops the cigarette onto the marble ground and crushes it with her foot, shrugging her shoulders, alongside an Oops. "Are you not enjoying the party? Haven't you tried the cake?", the woman keeps talking, and Marie rubs her forehead with the back of her hand, in an attempt to sooth the migraine, that's rising the longer she hears her mother's voice.

Fighting is not an option, and when she's finally left alone, Marie pops one of the balloons, right next to a wall -- and when it disappears with a Pang, it reveals Jac in her line of view, standing close. "I think she thinks I'm twelve.", Marie points out, while taking one of the firetruck balloons into her hands, and staring at it in disbelief, "I also think she thinks it's funny. Do you think it's funny? Maybe it is funny, and I'm just too bland for this shit."

[mariesinfernos]

( @matteolazkano -- Tideview university break, middle of the day )

In the beginning, Marie wasn't quite sure why they liked him. She could almost see the sadness radiating off of him. I bet he's just another one of those that did everything for power, and ended up cursed -- is her first thought. Her first feeling about him, is choking guilt -- about her first thought. The witch quickly found out about the tragic death of his wife, quickly find out about the daughter left behind. And when she found him eating lunch alone, she dropped an old book on his table, sat in front of him, wiped the dust away and took out her lunch. She didn't start a conversation, no, didn't even say hi -- just to suddenly turn the book around and point at a latin sentence. What does it mean. An awful conversation starter, but fully Marie's fashion.

And her fashion hasn't quite changed. When she sits in front of Matteo today, Marie doesn't only slam a book, but also a smaller box, that smells suspicious -- just like weed. "Let's get fucking high this weekend, dude. My Mom can babysit your daughter. I'll tell her we're engaged, getting married, and will ruin my bloodline, she'll get a stroke, and your daughter can jump into learning necromancy right from the bat. That will keep her busy for like, three hours. Sound good?"

[mariesinfernos]

( @sntsatticus -- Nikko's and Marie's apartment late, in the evening )

In her mind, Nikko is still a teenager. And suddenly living with a teenager in her late twenties late thirties feels weird. Not that Nikko is some sort of problem. No. Actually, quite the opposite. Easy to handle, if one ignores the constant bickering Salem, her beloved white cat now has to endorse (as if Salem isn't the one doing the evil. As if Salem isn't currently starring Nikko's cat down.) White fur disappears in Marie's room, and Marie gets up from the kitchen table, to pour herself a second cup of coffee. Maybe it's the third.

"So what do you like do, when you're bored?" Crooking her head to the side, Marie hums, "Summon the past lovers you killed in moonlit nights? Collect valerian when the sun stands high? Or worse, read?" Wiggling her eyebrows, Marie takes a deep gulp of the way too cold coffee, and sighs. "My familiar doesn't like yours. Is it dead? Has it a wicked soul trapped inside?" Marie points one finger at him, "Or worse, is it a boy?"

[mariesinfernos]

( @whisperdreams-blair -- Lindon manor in the evening )

There's so many things to hate in the world, that Marie can barely choose her favorite one. There would be Mrs Eleanor's cat that she almost ran over with her bike once, when she was a kid, who has been haunting her ever since (in physical form); there's Christmas parties she has to attend and never wants to (except if there's free alcohol). And then there's her birthday.

Marie never celebrates in any way. There's no cake, no pancakes, no party, no alcohol (at least not unusual amounts). Her mother, sadly, doesn't get the memo. And so when Marie pulls up to her childhood home to meet up with Blair after picking up an old suit she needs, she's met with loud music, cake, and so much fucking party.

"No. No, no, no." Marie turns right back around on the stairs, but it's too late. She's spotted, and before she can escape, some aunt has wrapped her arms around her and gives her a big, fat, squeeze.

There's many things she hates, and then there's one more -- Blair. Though, does Blair really count? "Blair!" Aunt Mildred exclaims, and Marie shakes her head, "Blair was just about to leave." "But Blair just arrived!" "And she will live. Turn her ass right back around and leave." "Sexy ass!", Aunt Mildred winks, and Marie quickly pushes her aside, to rush back down the stairs, not quite as sexy ass as she could be, when she almost slips on the rainy marble.

"Is this my getaway car call?"

It's too late. Too late for a car, or anything else. Marie senses the shadow of her mother behind her before she can say anything else, and the fire inside her just burns to destroy the whole place, for always and ever, cake and candles included. "Blair.", her mother greets from up the stairs, "Why don't you push Marie right back up and come inside? She's got a birthday to celebrate."

[mariesinfernos]

I. INTRODUCTION -- down the witches road.

⟨ aubrey plaza, she/her, 38 ⟩ as ⟨ marie elina lindon ⟩. often to be found ⟨ in pretty gardens, stealing flowers ⟩. Who's she loyal to? ⟨ the feng-lindons ⟩? careful, or you're set on fire with the snap of a finger. as written and loved by – ⟨ river, she/they, utc, eating disorders ⟩

II. HEADCANONS -- set afire in a haze.

Name: Marie Elina Lindon Occupation: University Professor (History, Salem Witch Trials specialist) Age: 38 Sexuality: Pansexual Species: Witch Clan/Pack/Coven?: The Feng-Lindons Hometown: Port Leiry Relationship Status: Single

III. BIOGRAPHY -- let them it all burn.

It was just a trickle at first, a rivulet. And to Marie, it had no meaning. In the back of her mind, it was present. Tingled in moments of danger (that don't really occur, until.) Marie thought her mother could sense something was up, or at least hoped it would be. Safely guarded as she is, it all just ends in revolution. Limits is an unknown word to a young girl with glasses too big for her face, and body too impatient to stay behind in her room all night when her friends go to see the fair. It was deemed from the beginning -- on the way out of her window, Marie almost fell, scratched her leg open, was met with the agonizing tear of bones daring to break. But they didn't, and so she was never stopped. The nights, especially meaningful ones, were always her dearest, truest friend. She could feel it sizzle under her skin, could feel the threat. Human as they are, her friends never understood. And sitting in a clairvoyant's tent, with a card flipped around on the table, and words burning into her skin; her friends' laugh burned into her skin all the same. Temperance XIV. The duality of fire. Creation, and destruction. The clairvoyant knows what it means. And so does Marie. The rivulet soon becomes a haunting, roaring river. It claws at her insides, clouds her mind, leaves her shaking, drowns everything else out. Fire at will, they say, but Marie doesn't want to. It's the flame of candles at first, flickering when she enters a room, then it's bonfires, campfires, housefires. Flames respond to her like they're her own. What ignites her full power, is no emotion. Not fear, not anger -- it's her will. It's after months of fighting herself through books, and texts, and conversations, after training, and meditating, and spending time alone. Then, everything changes. Praises, admiration, hiding, showing off. To them, it's power. Glory. Glowing and shining, a diamond, just waiting to be tossed around from station to station, waiting to be polished. But Marie doesn't wait, and Marie doesn't let herself be tossed around. She polishes herself. Searches for the teacher she wants, not the one she's assigned, keeping the illusion alive that she refuses to practice, refuses to acknowledge what her magic is worth. While her family tries to protect her from the rest of the world, Marie tries to protect herself from her family. Hiding, in plain sight.