*/ false saintess.

what does it mean to be descendant of something monstrous?

#CURSEDCREST, a roleplay blog for a half manakete take on marianne von edmund, from fire emblem. extremely low activity. highly selective. non fandom affiliated. multifandom verses focused. my portrayal of marianne uses they/them pronouns exclusively.

PLAYLIST. INTEREST FORM. CARRD.

A STUDY ON:  monstrous beauty, horror hunger, gothic horror/gothic heroines, mothers & daughters, what it means to be an outsider, what makes a monster a monster, becoming a "saintess", a reconstruction of the ingénue, the damsel being the "evil" dragon, the toll of heavy secrets on a child, a person as a storm, the conflict of man vs the monstrous self, religious horror & religious trauma, and the monstrous side of humanity.

AFFL. novastrae.

"yes... it's actually quite awful this time." mariannne scratches gently at the patch of scales the back of their hand in confirmation- a mosaic of faux stars, set against nightsky blues. the flare up had been particularly intense this time- irritating to the point of perpetual and overwhelming distraction.

they laugh aloud at her clarification, amusement shining on in their eyes. there's a genuine mirth to the smile spread across their mouth- cutting through the distracting and itchy pain; bright enough to light a room. "i could tell what you meant. i'll get you something to drink for the trouble."

@cursedcrest -> highly au based marianne von edmund from fire emblem.

@cinderellatype -> multifandom original character

@barovianlark -> curse of strahd player character

@0nlywar -> imperium of mankind based 40k multimuse

@dreamjockey -> original late night radio host in your dreams / dj character set in my personal urban fantasy sandbox aka citybound chronicles.

@rosebard -> genshin impact original character.

@kissewatch -> fika / jetpack cat, ow

@squirewatch -> brigitte, ow.

They urge their companion silently, run with me run with me dine with me like the stealthy mice we are, for this moment, we have no wars or worries. "C'mon, my room's closer'n yours is. I keep silverware and stuff for when my uncle's around."

when tatli sees marianne, there's blood smeared on their face still, eyes gleaming like a cat's in the moonlight. nails digging into the fish that was being crushed in their bare hand- hair and clothes drenched; making them look like a monster- of course the tail trailing behind them, sticking straight out in surprised terror, does not help their visage at all.

tatli doesn't say anything about their abominable state, but eagerly invites them to sneak into the kitchens alongside her. marianne swiftly makes a choice, and quietly guides her along a dark path, deftly avoiding the patrols into the backside of the kitchens. it's not the first time marianne has snuck out from the monestary and academy. they've been doing it the whole time, with no one the wiser.

the goddess says that thou shall not steal. the gods say that they help those that help themselves. marianne is just hungry. hungry down to their very core.

dying embers cast the kitchen in a faint glow, like a sunset's dusk. marianne grabs some of the various glass bottles of drinks- mostly bottled juices- and snatch a steaming of finely made white bread meant for the archbishop off of the cooling rack, and a lump of butter- cooling with a whispered spell to prevent it from melting in their hand. they use their tail to snag a particularly fine looking raw cut of beef from a chilling slab. hunger. hungry, for something that can't quite be sated...

marianne looks at tatli when they hear the footsteps- fourteen meters, mix of armor and leather and cloth. they both share a look, and scamper out the back. narrowly being missed by what ever poor soul would have to explain the rummaged kitchen to sir seteth or the archbishop.

they follow behind tatli into her room with no complaint, bare feet slapping against the stone pavers, still dripping water from the hem of their nightdress. "there's actually a patrol there at this time." marianne smiles, teeth unnaturally sharp in the moonlight. "next time... let's go into the woods. there's a natural hot spring near the monastery, and a waterfall. and less chance of being caught."

Horses used to be afraid of them; sensing some inherent bit of inhumanity they don't disclose to others -- the struggle of being Almyran in Fodlan is enough (with an uncle who barely speaks the language, needing them for translation, having to bounce between classes and making sure he isn't getting himself killed working hard labor). "She's the first horse that likes me, I think."

"she's very lovely." the horse whinnies, in agreement with their statement. marianne can't exactly explain how they understand animals- outside of wvyerns (and birds, oddly enough), it's less concrete words and more impressions. like seeing a watercolor painting of the concept of a specific word.

"horses are inherently very temperamental, and somewhat fickle." marianne says, with a distractedly fond smile that shows off their sharp canines. "they're easily frightened, and they can smell fear and hesitance in others."

marianne pets marigold's face with a gentle touch. "my mother breeds and raises horses, and has done so for a very long time." there's almost... a far away look in their eyes. the horse whinnies again, and marianne tilts their head slightly in response to it. "marigold likes you very much. as long as you continue to build a bond with her and treat her kindly and fairly, she'll be a loyal and reliable steed."