MARIE ONETTE

❝ It's not my problem if you don't see what I see
And I do not give a damn if you don't believe. ❞

An eccentric Viera mage hailing from the Skatay Range dividing Dalmasca and Othard, Marie Onette skirts the line of practicality and whimsy. With much of her life being spent fighting the Garlean Empire after their attempt to occupy her own home, Marie has travelled far, becoming known for her magecraft, harmlessly unusual interests, and her variant of the Echo. She's dedicated her life to the cause of fighting the Empire. The warmth of her Echo being used to bring someone peace, the satisfaction of a garment well made, the distraction of a new hobby to pursue or niche research project- have all kept her sane amidst her sacrifices in the name of liberation.

  At first impression:   Marie is, on the surface, a soft spoken and mild-mannered young lady. She holds herself with a sort of detached poise, not particularly shy, but not going out of her way to make herself the center of attention either with her actions. Around those she's unfamiliar with, she can be quite guarded and reserved, keeping others at arms length, sometimes accidentally coming across as uncanny. The way she may look at you is as though her eyes are not properly fixed on you, though she is looking... well, in your direction. She speaks softly, in rehearsed scripts at first, until she is comfortable to let the weariness of her years weigh her shoulders, and perhaps the stories to reveal she may have lived more than what may meet the eye.

Positive

Neutral

Negative

introverted

cold

selfish

skeptical

serious

logical

disciplined

suspicious

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extroverted

warm

generous

open-minded

playful

emotional

hedonistic

trusting

CONTENT WARNINGS: non-graphic mentions of imperialism, war, sexual abuse, grooming and blackmail, parentification, death, paranormal occurrences like ghosts, religious crisis, being under the threat of Garlean occupation is kind of ass.In the Veena cave settlement of Grimvik, Anneli was born to a young first-time mother, Vera. In most respects, things were relatively normal. She spent most time with her grandmother, the clothcrafter and toymaker of the village called Zhalmev, who spent much of her time recounting stories to a young Anneli as she worked, who would quietly sit and watch with intent, committing the little movements to memory. She didn't play much with other children, and the sentiment seemed to be shared, as her cousins and neighbors struggled to make sense of her peculiar statements of the past and struggled to relate to her intense interest in the dolls given to her by her grandmother.

Having learned early on from her mother how to read, Anneli spent much of her time doing so, especially as her mother struggled with the emotional aspect of having children, moreso when her sister was born. She took to books about anatomy, medicine and magecraft. When she wasn't asking her grandmother to teach her to sew, that is- so she could match her dresses with her dolls.The adults around her never saw this as problematic. Maybe a bit odd, but perhaps she was just mature for her age. As cases like this tend to go, this landed her the responsibility of helping look after the younger children. She might as well, if she preferred to stay home practicing magic and playing with fabric anyways. The talk of foreign powers threatening the land kept many of the adults quite busy, anyways, and additionally put Anneli on the path of honing magical skills as quickly as she could. Thankfully to them, she caught on easily, what with such a vested interest.The attacks started when she was around 8 or 9, the first attempts of the Garleans to breech into Veena territory. They were lucky, the wood wardens had managed to keep them at bay, but not without help, and not without rare breeches into the village outside of mating season to tend to wounds, as the wardens out in the forest were in too risky of an area to take care of it on their own. Anneli knew it must be horrible for them to be breaking pattern like this.And the states they were coming in... For as young as she was, there was use for her healing capabilities for more minor victims. They ought to get her used to seeing these things anyways, if these attacks are to continue.She started reading about religion. She prayed it would end, as she grinded up herbs, wrapped the pastes in the bandages of the wounded, warmed her hands with magic to ease the pain and stop the bleeding. A heavy burden laid upon her chest each night, after her turn in making sure the younger children were safe, as she felt the life forces of those in the infirmary flickering, crying when she knew one had passed on. She would ask nearly obsessively if someone was there to care for them, if they knew. This was her first whisper of her Echo.

It was this whisper of the Echo, too, that led her to do something that should have been against her better judgement. Another day in their now more established healing bay, and there Anneli was, peering into the room of a lance-wielding woman faring poorly, a nagging sort of restlessness drawing her attention as she clung to life. There was something she needed, something her soul needed, and the woman could not tell her in her failing state. It was outside the village. This feeling, growing in urgency, followed Anneli well into the night until she bundled herself up and set out of the house.It wasn't very far, just on the outskirts of their territory she went, and she found it. A crudely crafted beaded necklace. A gift from her young daughter, something told her upon touching it. In her pocket it went, and when she looked back up, she froze. There stood one Eleazar sas Gorvo. Remembering what her grandmother had taught her, Anneli hid. Attempted to, at least, until she heard his voice saying he knew she was there, and that he had no interest in harming her. Still, she stayed in her bush, as small as she could make herself, and he stayed as well, talking at her. He didn't believe in the occupation, he only wanted to occupy a spot so there would be one less ill-intending body in their territory. As adultified as she's been, she's only 10, and he sounds trustworthy enough when he said he can help her, help her village. She wanted to help.But she had an important matter to attend to. He told her they can meet again. He's always around here patrolling in the night. Anneli kept this in mind as she ran back off to the dying woman, feeling her soul barely hanging on as those tending to the wounded in the night questioned what she was doing here. Her frantic insistence had one of the older healers, Zaya, accompanying her into the room with wide eyes as Anneli explained that she needed this item. It's from her daughter. She can't be at peace without it. How does she know? Oh, she just does. Within the hour of Anneli slipping the necklace onto the woman's neck, she passed on. The whole time, Anneli never left, watching the final processes with a solemn fascination, and dead silent as she felt the very moment her soul left her body before her.When Zaya returned to find her, Anneli told her she was still here. In the necklace, she said. It would have to be given to her daughter tomorrow, lest her soul linger. The incident was discussed promptly in the morning with her mother and grandmother in hushed voices.

Between the source and extent of this talent being unknown and the ongoing chaos of the attempted occupation, no one stopped to question why Anneli spouted information about planned attack routes or tactics. She explained them about as well as one might expect a child to, but it was accurate enough. Whether or not this was some precognitive blessing from the Gods or didn't matter when they needed that information and needed it now.The information, of course, had come from Eleazar. The hefty cost he would charge for it was paid when he led her too far out of the territory of her village one night, deeming it necessary for what he was about to share, and then revealing that he knew of the Green Word, and how she had now violated it.She did what she felt she had to do to stay with her family, to help protect them, especially with her mother now pregnant with her second sister.It was truly worse that the information was always accurate, because there was a price from then on.

It took 5 years for the occupation to concede. While the Garleans were unsuccessful, the Veena territories were left ravaged by the conflicts, and a now adolescent Anneli was left feeling desolate. A particularly unfortunate incident of collateral damage had her seeking out more practice in more offensive and defensive forms of the arcane, and this led her into the mentorship of Zinoves. The elder mage, a sister of Zaya, had her eye on this young girl ever since the talk of her strange abilities to sense the souls of the dead and dying.And with a familiar essence in her being, something that reminded Anneli of her now late grandmother (pour one out), the two bonded quickly. She would spend hours training, until her energy and aether was too well spent, before retreating back to her little room, where she still practiced making clothes based on what she could find for her dolls. Her mother would say she was too old for such things, but feeling partially responsible for how fast her daughter had to grow up during the occupation attempts, she never pressed the matter.

At least she was making garments for herself as well. And for her sister, and the other children- to whom she was also passing on her knowledge of magecraft. The world was not a safe place, and these children should never have to go through what she went through. But if there was a risk, as secret letters from Eleazar might suggest, they ought to be better prepared.Articulate and thorough in her explanations, she made a good teacher, though her paranoia and hypervigilance stuck out like a sore thumb. And when it didn't, Anneli could scarcely be found outside of her room, keeping interactions outside of her teaching on either end at a bare minimum. This was cause for whispers in the village. The longer it went on, the closer Anneli came to having the weight of it all become too much to carry.She never did respond to the letters, but a final one suggesting Eleazar might return to their territory pushed Anneli over the edge. She looked upon the village, struggling to rise from the ashes of the conflict, and knew she had to go.Of course, she went right to Zinoves, having caused a bit of a fuss on the way there in her wrecked state. She refused to say anything until night time, until she could know there were no eavesdroppers- and then, once she could find it in herself to say anything more, she told her mentor everything. If she could tell no one else, she could tell her. Zinoves wouldn't send her away, in fact, she tells Anneli she might be given grace, granted... everything. Perhaps she could be an exception. Perhaps she shouldn't decide now, with just a vague threat. But Anneli knew she couldn't remain there, with the looming burden and paranoia, overwhelmed by the souls around the village, the constant reminders. There's no promise she could be an exception to the Green Word anyways, it would be a contentious discussion in the village, everyone would know...It was too much, and Zinoves understood that. She respected Anneli's final decision to leave on her own terms. She helped plan the departure, and her final gift to Anneli before she went where she could not follow- a suggestion for her city name, as once she departed, she would have to abandon her forest name of Anneli. Marie Onette, a play on the dolls she found comfort and joy in for so many years.A perfect fit, the young mage decided. And with that, Zinoves sent word to the wood wardens to ensure her safety as Marie left the limits of their territory, and departed for Doma.

With her skills, her staff, and as much as she could hold in her packs, Marie set off for Doma. As many Veena had fled in that direction following the destruction of their homes, Marie's arrival was smooth. While she knew precious little about the world outside of her village, those who welcomed her in Doma, and later Kugane, were understanding of her situation- as they were under threat of occupation themselves.Learning of this, fired by not fear, but anger, Marie moved to join resistance organizations, offering her skills as a mage in both a healing and fighting capacity. Her knowledge of Garlean war tactics was of interest as well. Between this, she did what she had to do to attempt to gain some favor and safety, from things she's less than proud of, to things like learning the local cultures and their histories, particularly when it came to their funeral rites and local medicines- and, well, the style of dolls in the area, of course. Tea blending is something she also picked up in this time, intrigued by the ceremonies surrounding it.It didn't take her long to garner a bit of a reputation as well, for her affinity for supposedly "haunted" objects, and her apparent connection with souls and spirits, as vague as it was. In an area so heavy with loss, she was glad to extend her services to those who might find just an ilm of comfort from it.She spent more or less 3 years across Doma and Kugane, before hearing of the looming threat to Ala Mhigo. Reviewing her maps led her to the mortifying realization that she would have to either take the long way around the star, or traverse her old home, and heavily Garlean occupied territory. But they would be wanting for bodies, and Marie was wanting for retribution, for justice. If she were needed there, she would make the journey. But unable to bear the thought of crossing her homeland and into fully Empire-held territory on her own, Marie elected to take the long way, arguing vaguely that it would be safer, granted she was by herself and "known" to some officials.And maybe, selfishly, she wanted time to see other things. To see what was out there, to find where she might be able to call home now. Her venture took her through the Glass Ocean to Tural, her path taking her through the southern edge of the border and into Tuliyollal. Absolutely unlike anywhere she'd seen before, Marie earnestly wished she could have spent more time there, and regretted having to leave so soon-- but, for as much as this route was partially for her own exploration, she still had somewhere she had to be, and she had little time to linger- though she did promise to return one day.

The trade routes in Tuliyollal granted her an easy pass into Sharlyan, in Dravania. The colony residing there, in it's early phases of evacuation planning, didn't offer much in the way of information, much to Marie's frustration, and to her distaste when she was met with disapproval when stating her mission to aid in the Ala Mhigan resistance against the Empire. Before leaving, however, a student unwilling to reveal themself slips a note into her bag- saying that she ought to seek out a spot in Sharlyan some day.This was perplexing to her, given her ideological clashes with the few Sharlyan scholars she'd interacted with, but she kept it in the back of her mind to revisit later.With that, she planned her route and set off, first crossing through Coerthas, skirting around Ishgard proper. The heavy weight of war and death in the area, from a conflict she had yet to learn of, inspired her to pick up her feet, lest she become distracted from her current objective. It would have to be added to the list of things to revisit. (It would have to. She wouldn't be soon to forget the suffering she felt lingering in the air in her time there.)

Her trip through The Black Shroud was, for a mercy, quick and uneventful. It was sorely needed, as her final stop loomed in the horizon: Ala Mhigo. She arrived just in time for Gaius van Baelsar to begin his attack. It's a battle lost, and Marie still kicks herself for not having the courage to take the shorter route through Dalmasca, so she might have arrived sooner. But, there's little time to dwell as they picked up the pieces in the wake of the Empire's reign. She serves in her usual capacities of tending to the wounded, with special care for those who would not live to see the liberation of their state, of which there was an unfortunate many.Their sacrifices would not be for naught, Marie would promise each and every one of them.

For the next four years, Marie spent much of her time involved in the resistance efforts, and only a few would ever learn how she came to understand so much about Garlean strategy. Her free time may have been scarce, but she did utilize it to make a bit of gil for her services as a weaver and goldsmith. This trade of hers had her travelling back and forth through The Black Shroud and Coerthas, and her specialty in more formal sorts of attire did find her some success with merchants that had connections in Ishgard, though at this point Marie had never been afforded the opportunity to see inside the mysterious city-state.Life had slowed down enough for Marie to begin feeling the weight of all she had endured, which there was simply no time for. It would hit her, sometimes, when she was alone in another inn room, and she would simply throw herself into something as a distraction. What else would she do, sit there and cry? Where would that get her?She still had a doll to keep her company, in any case. Sometimes, she would lament in a journal about how she wished she could be just like her doll. Cherished despite everything, for exactly as it was. Taken care of. Pure. A toy, unburdened by horrors and cruelty of the world around her. She could perhaps liken herself to one of those haunted dolls she'd heard folk stories about in Kugane, a spirit with something unresolved merely inhabiting a such a vessel, unable to properly imitate the behavior of a regular person, never quite right. They weren't so scary as the stories made them out to be.At least she could fashion herself up like one.The sounding of the Echo did little to strengthen her floodgates. For all she knew about the subject to aide in her efforts to comfort the dying, Marie had long since abandoned the idea of being a religious woman. There were too many things she's seen, too many things she'd endured, too many desperate prayers unanswered, for her to believe in the existence of just gods.

It wasn't something Marie liked to consider much, reasoning in her mind that it must all be stories for the common person to use to fill in what they don't know. The implication otherwise was too much. It would have to mean that her prayers were heard and ignored. The thought of gods allowing her suffering was much harder to bear than the idea that there must not be any at all. Needless to say it did not go well when voice of Hydaelyn spoke directly to her, naming her as something special, chosen, guided by her light.Marie was guided by her own light, thank you very much, and she certainly would not doing any favors for a deity that had done naught but forget her in her hours of need. In a fit of anger and despair, she denounced all of it, proclaiming that she would never need this blessing to fight for the light of the realm, to fight for the liberation of all people. As a young girl, she fantasized about something like this. As a worn down adult woman, she would sooner choke.Despite her outburst towards the nothingness, towards the sky, towards this Mothercrystal that would be listening, she retained her Echo. She, too, saw the falling stars. After that point, she could see them from time to time, the shades she once could only sense. Hear them and their stories. Feel their presence more acutely. It was overwhelming at first, and she wondered if this must be some kind of punishment for her rejection of the Mothercrystal.But she would make the most of it. What other choice did she have?It became more difficult to maintain the practiced composure she'd curated over the years, the veil that kept her safe, that kept her comfortable, that kept everyone at two arm's length. Displaying conviction, but not so much emotion to reveal the true depths of her passion, in fear she'd be taken less seriously. As someone who presented how she did, with the things she struggled to mask about herself, she knew she was at a disadvantage already in that regard.Seeing the cracks, comrades working alongside Marie suggested she take a break. Perhaps a change of scenery, at least. She was a hard worker, it was all just getting to her. She argued, but it took a cohort with a knowing sort of look telling her that she'd be of little use if the visions drove her mad amidst the chaos of everything else for her to concede.

As much as she loathed to admit it, her comrade was right. But unable to suffer the thought of being left to naught but her own troubles to focus on, Marie insisted on some light duty, something small so that she might still be of use. Thus, she was situated with communications. She was an articulate young woman, with a trustworthy reputation to boot. Surely that was something that would be no trouble for her at all- and of course it wasn't.She would be given information, she would parse through it and articulate it appropriately, and send it off to whomever it would have to be addressed. She turned into a representative of sorts, though she made a point to never reveal her identity in these letters outbound. A faceless and nameless representative was much easier to take seriously. Contending with bias was tiring.Besides, less time she had to spend arguing her points in business, the more time she could spend on her next challenges: training properly to become a chirurgeon, and the art of pictomancy.Besides, how could she take a real break with what loomed over the horizon?

She even made the trip to Gridania, electing to do her work remotely in order to hide her refusal to truly follow what she knew to be the more sound suggestion, siting that the climate in Ala Mhigo might be aggravating things for someone like her, who hailed from the snowy mountains.It was something Marie struggled to articulate, but there was an urgent need in her keep going, to hone her skills, to become the best of the best at what she did through naught but her own hard work. Something was coming, that part she knew. That part many knew, if her contacts in Sharlyan were anything to go off of, and she had to be prepared.And she surely did not need the extra help.

It wasn't an easy process for the locals of Gridania to accept her into their city-state, but Marie was patient. She did what she had to do. Her inclination to be of use to the locals, her earnest interest in the Elementals and the Gridanian form of white magic, and her demure and inoffensive demeanor did eventually grant her favor enough to be permitted inside- though she made a point to not disclose that she'd come from the Ala Mhigan Resistance. As an outsider, she had enough trouble gaining favor. She didn't need to give them more reason due to her political affiliations.She was, however, brought with conflicting emotions when she learned of the Autumn War.But there was no time to dwell on that. The next ten years would be spent on a hamster wheel, between remote Resistance efforts, constant studying and training, and making enough of a living to afford her small apartment. There was hardly any time for anything else. It was only in the time before she properly passed out that she would lay there and dwell.Many times, she would sway on her feelings on The Mothercrystal. On the Twelve. On the numerous religions she'd learned of during her travels. On wondering if all she had endured served some greater divine purpose, some test of resilience to prove she was really a Chosen One. She would never deny having The Echo, the secret was relatively open in the first place, but as for her personal relationship with the source of it? Well. It's complicated.Not that anyone really asked that deeply. She was reached out to some handful of times, but nothing that she responded to, and Marie didn't make it easy to keep trying, with her elusive nature. She was known, but she wasn't. She could be found around town, in chirurgeon houses, in the Conjurer's Guild, taking adventuring jobs in excuse to practice her newfound pictomancy skills while earning some gil, selling garments and enchanted jewelry on the markets- but good luck getting any answer out of her regarding anything outside of the matter at hand.

It's not as though relationships with others had ever been easy for her in any case, and she could not afford the distraction right now.Hard work does pay off. At least, it does when Calamity strikes. She never does answer the call to join the Warriors of Light, but she does fight. She fights tooth and nail for the survival of the star, just as everyone else.And I should definitely have more words for this. Calamity is ass. She heals a lot through that. It's bad and traumatizing for everyone and when she's done she literally has to take a break. Ends up in Old Sharlyan as a student.She really does a number with working on her masking there. As someone with The Echo, she's in contact vaguely with the Students of Baldesion but really, she's the one who's more inconsistent about responding to them- but also, her Echo variation isn't super... in demand. What does her in ultimately is the Sharlyan policy to never be involved in the matters of other nations, even if it's the right thing to do. And the policy of withholding Sharlyan information makes her genuinely want to commit treason. No, really, she considers it.Eventually she decides she's going to do something really unwise if she doesn't get out of there and decides to go do something to actually help people again. Ends up in Thanalan because she is interested in Thaumaturgy. Doesn't end up picking that up but it was cool to learn about. Events of ARR start here. STILL refuses to be an actual warrior of light. It's complicated. But she's There. Kind of. Party member. She's like if Judas from Jesus Christ Superstar was a bunnygirl. She's there in the same places and might have been involved in some events, but manages to escape any real involvement with the Warrior.

That last part is ultimately kind of up in the air depending on who I'm rping with and where I'm putting her and what we want to do. I also have a WoL-verse for her, where she does accept the job and has her reasons (if I am posting this somewhere with a no WoL rule, this part is irrelevant. I'm just not making a separate carrd LOL)Default: she loathes how the Warriors of Light are talked about, hailed as idols while the thousands who died for their causes and fought for countless years are forgotten as merely bodies in history who made little impact. She believes most Warriors of Light are brought from naive, good-hearted adventurers being exploited. It just makes her sad. Something about it didn't seem right to her on many levels.

Thrilled and delighted that you want to potentially ship with her. Here's some useful information, to make sure our muses might be a good fit.Particular NPC characters I enjoy shipping her with include Estinien and Thancred, but I'm more than willing to ship with other characters and other people's OCs if the vibe is right! I also absolutely do not approach any NPC rpers with the role intention of shipping with them. Forcing dynamics is not my game.

I would say Marie is primarily attracted to men, but there's some wiggle room. More so, she's very demisexual. It takes her a good long while to want to pursue any relationship with someone. You gotta be a bit patient with her. Like a nervous shelter dog. Lots of development and chemistry is needed. That being said: I love a high fantasy romance!!! Like, I really enjoy writing romance. It rules. I wouldn't say there's one specific type of character I 100% prefer writing her with, as it really depends on the person writing them and how we season the dynamic.As far as NSFW goes- yeah, go crazy once they're in that sort of relationship. She has like, a decade of pent up sexual frustration in there. I will say, however, that her interest in vanilla sex is pretty minimal, save for particularly steamy and passionate encounters. But she's a lot more interested and finds a lot of emotional safety within the realm of BDSM sorts of relationships. That doesn't mean she needs to be tied up and flogged for every sexual encounter, but she prefers an element of D/S in her sex. It makes her feel safe! I have a whole blurb about why this is but I'll save it LOL.Getting this part out of the way: I do not write femdom. I do not write her topping or dominating. This is related to genuine triggers for me. Please do not approach me with wanting to do this. Yes, I know we all wanna write bottoming, I'm sorry. It is what it is, for me. Please be kind about it. Thank you.I do have an f-list page for her, if that is something you're interested in for a bit more elaboration on the stuff she likes in that regard.