Post by Deleted on Mar 15, 2016 5:55:39 GMT
Marie Vivianne Bonnefoi
Transsexual Female | 29 |
French | Pansexual |
170cm | 55kg |
Pureblood | |
personality
[attr="class","profileboxscroll"]Marie is very kind, and often maternal, to those younger than she is, or those that she considers siblings. She will dote on them, fussing over their well-being like a mother. She will cook for them, and worry if they are getting enough to eat/have enough food, etc. Her door is always open to them, and she makes sure that they know this. Being from the Nation of Love, this ought to come as no surprise. Marie loves love, and loves expressing her love for beautiful people and beautiful things. She deeply loves her family and those that she has shared romances with over the years; she would do anything for them. Despite growing up the way she did, once she was out from under the thumb of her Father, Marie learned to appreciate, and even to desire better things in life.
At present, she makes sure to keep up with the height of fashions, to always have her home tastefully and elegantly furnished, and to make sure that she herself is always as beautiful as she can be. Being a transsexual female, Marie often tries to be as feminine as possible; she will often wear heels, expertly applied make-up, and women’s clothing; along with a corset to give her a more feminine physique. Despite this, and despite the soft way she comports herself, Marie is extremely protective of those she cares for, unwilling to allow any harm to come to them. She may behave like a lady, but her wand and rapier will always be close at hand should anyone attempt to hurt those she cares about. Despite her reputation for being a slut, Marie is very loyal to her partners, and is always open about the fact that she is polyamorus.
If her current partner isn’t comfortable with that part of her, she is perfectly willing to either come to a compromise – she isn’t allergic to monogamy, despite what people believe – or they will amicably part ways. Her relationships have never lasted long, however, thus her loose reputation. In truth, she is always searching for someone to match up to Iain and what they had, as she knows that the redhead in question isn’t looking for a long-term relationship with a woman currently. Though she hides it well, due to her upbringing, Marie is very much in pain. She was taught since her youngest years that she was only good for pleasuring others, and she believed this until she met Iain; he was the first to show her what love was, and what it meant to not let herself be used and abused just because that was what she had been taught.
At present, she makes sure to keep up with the height of fashions, to always have her home tastefully and elegantly furnished, and to make sure that she herself is always as beautiful as she can be. Being a transsexual female, Marie often tries to be as feminine as possible; she will often wear heels, expertly applied make-up, and women’s clothing; along with a corset to give her a more feminine physique. Despite this, and despite the soft way she comports herself, Marie is extremely protective of those she cares for, unwilling to allow any harm to come to them. She may behave like a lady, but her wand and rapier will always be close at hand should anyone attempt to hurt those she cares about. Despite her reputation for being a slut, Marie is very loyal to her partners, and is always open about the fact that she is polyamorus.
If her current partner isn’t comfortable with that part of her, she is perfectly willing to either come to a compromise – she isn’t allergic to monogamy, despite what people believe – or they will amicably part ways. Her relationships have never lasted long, however, thus her loose reputation. In truth, she is always searching for someone to match up to Iain and what they had, as she knows that the redhead in question isn’t looking for a long-term relationship with a woman currently. Though she hides it well, due to her upbringing, Marie is very much in pain. She was taught since her youngest years that she was only good for pleasuring others, and she believed this until she met Iain; he was the first to show her what love was, and what it meant to not let herself be used and abused just because that was what she had been taught.
history
[attr="class","profileboxscroll"]From her very earliest memories, Marie remembers pain. The pain of knowing she was different. The pain of watching her Father hurt her Mother. The pain of being the one being hurt after her Mother died. All of then were different shades of pain, but they came together to make up her childhood. However, the worst came when she was eleven, and asked if she could be allowed to wear the girls’ uniform, when she began to attend Beauxbatons. For the rest of her life, she would bear the scars of that day, and not just the ones on her body. In the end, she was told that if she wanted to be a girl so bad, then she would act like one, and be just the way she was told to be. Marie grew out her hair, started wearing makeup when she was twelve, and had her first kiss when she was thirteen.
However, as her Father was there to witness it, that merely introduced her to a new sort of pain. No matter how much she wished it could have been, Iain had no chance of being her first, not with how livid and possessive her Father was. Fifth year was when Marie met Iain. Fifth year was when things started to get better. At fifteen, Marie was introduced to Pureblood High Society, giving her a place to hide during the summer and other school holidays. Balls, parties, soirées – they were her escape from her Father and his abuse. They, and the letters to Iain, were her way of copoing. Before she knew it, she had fallen for the rugged, sweet, handsomely endearing Scot, and she didn’t think she ever wanted her heart back. But, Marie could sense that Iain wasn’t the type for commitment, nor was he ready or looking for such a thing.
So, she told herself she was content with waiting until Iain was ready; after all, he was the one who showed her what love was supposed to be like, the least she could do for him was to wait until he was okay with whatever was holding him back. Though she had a few relationships, between those idealized teenage years and the years after school when she worked on her Charms Mastery, Marie always found herself comparing them to Iain. She always wanted them to be her Scot – whether they were male or female – and it was unfair to any of them. So, for the time from when she was twenty five until she completed her Mastery and was accepted by Beauxbatons as a member of their staff, she swore off relationships. Currently, she’s hoping to get close with Iain once more, as she will be coming with the students for the Triwizard Tournament.
However, as her Father was there to witness it, that merely introduced her to a new sort of pain. No matter how much she wished it could have been, Iain had no chance of being her first, not with how livid and possessive her Father was. Fifth year was when Marie met Iain. Fifth year was when things started to get better. At fifteen, Marie was introduced to Pureblood High Society, giving her a place to hide during the summer and other school holidays. Balls, parties, soirées – they were her escape from her Father and his abuse. They, and the letters to Iain, were her way of copoing. Before she knew it, she had fallen for the rugged, sweet, handsomely endearing Scot, and she didn’t think she ever wanted her heart back. But, Marie could sense that Iain wasn’t the type for commitment, nor was he ready or looking for such a thing.
So, she told herself she was content with waiting until Iain was ready; after all, he was the one who showed her what love was supposed to be like, the least she could do for him was to wait until he was okay with whatever was holding him back. Though she had a few relationships, between those idealized teenage years and the years after school when she worked on her Charms Mastery, Marie always found herself comparing them to Iain. She always wanted them to be her Scot – whether they were male or female – and it was unfair to any of them. So, for the time from when she was twenty five until she completed her Mastery and was accepted by Beauxbatons as a member of their staff, she swore off relationships. Currently, she’s hoping to get close with Iain once more, as she will be coming with the students for the Triwizard Tournament.
rp sample
[attr="class","profileboxscroll"]Today should have been a happy one, but when had any day ever been happy for her? Well, that wasn’t completely true. Last year had been something like happy, as it had been almost an entire school year away from her Father. Not to mention she had made a friend, something that she hadn’t ever been able to say before. So, perhaps, there had been some days in her life that were something like happy, but this certainly wasn’t one of them. Not that she should have been surprised, of course; that was just a fact of life for her.
Father had prepped her himself. He had begun by dismissing all of the house elves from her wing of the manor, and ordering them to stay away. Then, the torture had started. Marie winced at the memory, pushing it away as she stared, unseeingly, at the ornate double doors that would give her entrance to the ballroom. Father had made sure she remembered what she was supposed to do, what she was supposed to say, and how she was supposed to act. He expected utter perfection, as always, and had ensured that she felt no desire to rebel.
The hastily-healed and glamoured lash marks on her bare back and sides still burned.
After that, Father had stripped her of the rest of her clothes, and quickly cleaned the blood off of her bra and blouse. Picking up her tiny, shuddering form, he had all but dragged her into her bathroom. Filling the tub with scalding water, Father had scrubbed every single inch of her clean until her skin was a lurid pink from the scouring, and the water ran red from her shredded back. Dragging her from the tub, he had dried her with spells, and then forced her to sit upright in the backless chair at her vanity. As the tub had drained, Father had healed her back just enough that she wouldn’t be bleeding, before casting a glamour over the area to deter any suspicions.
Marie didn’t remember how he had done her make-up, just that he had applied it without touching her, a fact that she was eternally grateful for. The less she felt Father’s hands on her, the better for her nerves and composure. Once that was finished, she had been hauled back into her room, and dressed from her panties up. Bra, stockings, garter belt, and panties had all been placed on her body by Father, and even now, thinking back on it, she had to suppress a shudder. At lest her dress was beautiful, and made her look at least a bit pretty, she thought to calm herself down.
As expected, it was made of the finest materials, and cut in such a way that her finest attributes – her slim figure and surprisingly shapely hips – were what drew the eye the most. As for the dress itself, it certainly made up for all the shortcomings of her appearance, or so Father said. It was a soft, rosy pink, high necked but backless. The skirt was floor length and mermaid-cut, made to flare out in soft layers around her trim, thin legs. Thin, glimmering chains with tiny pink sapphires draped on her shoulders like sleeves, and curled under her ‘breasts’ to help with the illusion.
Chandelier earrings of pink sapphires and white gold dangle from her ears. Her hair is done up in thousands of curls, secured by a rose gold tiara. A single pink sapphire sits in the hollow of her throat, held in place by a soft, silky black choker. White opera gloves hide the scars and bruises on her arms from fingertips to mid bicep. Her mask of a Perfect Pureblood High Society Lady is securely in place. All she wants to do is run and hide in her room and cry until she passes out. But she can’t. Not now, and not ever. There would be more than Hell to pay, if she ever humiliated Father like that.
Father had prepped her himself. He had begun by dismissing all of the house elves from her wing of the manor, and ordering them to stay away. Then, the torture had started. Marie winced at the memory, pushing it away as she stared, unseeingly, at the ornate double doors that would give her entrance to the ballroom. Father had made sure she remembered what she was supposed to do, what she was supposed to say, and how she was supposed to act. He expected utter perfection, as always, and had ensured that she felt no desire to rebel.
The hastily-healed and glamoured lash marks on her bare back and sides still burned.
After that, Father had stripped her of the rest of her clothes, and quickly cleaned the blood off of her bra and blouse. Picking up her tiny, shuddering form, he had all but dragged her into her bathroom. Filling the tub with scalding water, Father had scrubbed every single inch of her clean until her skin was a lurid pink from the scouring, and the water ran red from her shredded back. Dragging her from the tub, he had dried her with spells, and then forced her to sit upright in the backless chair at her vanity. As the tub had drained, Father had healed her back just enough that she wouldn’t be bleeding, before casting a glamour over the area to deter any suspicions.
Marie didn’t remember how he had done her make-up, just that he had applied it without touching her, a fact that she was eternally grateful for. The less she felt Father’s hands on her, the better for her nerves and composure. Once that was finished, she had been hauled back into her room, and dressed from her panties up. Bra, stockings, garter belt, and panties had all been placed on her body by Father, and even now, thinking back on it, she had to suppress a shudder. At lest her dress was beautiful, and made her look at least a bit pretty, she thought to calm herself down.
As expected, it was made of the finest materials, and cut in such a way that her finest attributes – her slim figure and surprisingly shapely hips – were what drew the eye the most. As for the dress itself, it certainly made up for all the shortcomings of her appearance, or so Father said. It was a soft, rosy pink, high necked but backless. The skirt was floor length and mermaid-cut, made to flare out in soft layers around her trim, thin legs. Thin, glimmering chains with tiny pink sapphires draped on her shoulders like sleeves, and curled under her ‘breasts’ to help with the illusion.
Chandelier earrings of pink sapphires and white gold dangle from her ears. Her hair is done up in thousands of curls, secured by a rose gold tiara. A single pink sapphire sits in the hollow of her throat, held in place by a soft, silky black choker. White opera gloves hide the scars and bruises on her arms from fingertips to mid bicep. Her mask of a Perfect Pureblood High Society Lady is securely in place. All she wants to do is run and hide in her room and cry until she passes out. But she can’t. Not now, and not ever. There would be more than Hell to pay, if she ever humiliated Father like that.
