Lone Marionette

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Mary.jpg
Lone Marionette
Mary
Player: @Kamidesu
Origin: Magic
Archetype: Scrapper
Security Level: 50
Personal Data
Real Name: n/a
Known Aliases: Mary
Species: Marionette
Age: n/a
Height: 5'
Weight: Light, wood
Eye Color: Brown
Hair Color: Brown
Biographical Data
Nationality: Confidential
Occupation: Crewmate of the Tortuga
Place of Birth: Master's Shelf
Base of Operations: Confidential
Marital Status: n/a
Known Relatives: n/a
Known Powers
Hand-to-hand combat
Known Abilities
See above
Equipment
Control Cross
n/a



Biography

Did you find what you were looking for
And did you hear what you needed to hear
And did I serve you well, did I serve you well
Did I serve any purpose, any one at all

I don't mind you dragging me around
And I don't mind as long as I know where you're taking me
And did I serve you well, did I serve you well
Did I serve any purpose, anyone at all

I don't want to believe
I don't want to believe
I don't want you to leave me here nailed to this question mark

I don't want to believe
I don't want to believe
I don't want you to leave

And is that, is that all (this is the end)
Is that, is that all you wanted
Is that, is that all you wanted me to know
Is that, is that all you had to tell me


—Voltaire, Believe

There once was a lonely toymaker, who spent most of his time in his attic workshop. Surrounded by dolls and puppets, he spoke to and treated them like family. Some cultures believe that if you love something enough, it will gain its own soul. Perhaps that is what happened to the Marionette from the top shelf. One night, the toymaker was especially sad, and crying. It touched the puppet's non-existent heart so deeply that she wanted to reach out and hug him...but just as she was trying to move, he left in a rush.

No matter...He would be back, she was sure. So she sat on that shelf, and waited. But the toymaker never returned, and soon she was collecting dust. Stretching her stiff limbs, she clumsily hefted her wooden cross up and tied it to her back, careful not to get her strings tangled. Haphazardly she climbed down the shelf and began her journey into the world.

Perhaps one day she will find a puppetmaster to take up her control cross. Until then, she remains withdrawn and clumsy.

Extended Backstory

Every evening in the solitude of his attic room
Hidden from all else, he talks to his silent dolls
[.......................] they say, save but one who thinks,
one who is different from them all...

I want you to notice me! I've been watching you in your loneliness so long
It really is horrible of you to be so work-drawn
I want to be loved, I want to love you. I want to dress up and go out like you do.
But no matter how hard I wish it's true, my body will never, ever move.
I am nothing by myself but a helplessly pitiful stiff-limbed doll;
Without your help I couldn't even force myself to laugh at all.
Yes I have never been anything but a pitiful, stiffly stringed doll
And if you were not there I know I could not even love at all.
If I could, I know I'd cry, but nothing ever comes from glass made eyes.


—Velvet Eden, ...

All stories are best started at the beginning, and for this one, the beginning is in the budding 1900s of the U.S. One Adrian and Melissa Fenn had been struggling to conceive. Adrian was a somewhat successful toy maker, and owned a lovely, but humble shop in Rhode Island. It wasn't wildly popular, but it was popular enough, and the two were soon living comfortably...Yet something was missing from their lives. They wanted a child. For a few years they tried unsuccessfully, but in 1910, little Abigail Fenn was born. She was a happy, healthy child, and was everything her proud parents dreamed of. When she turned ten, Adrian decided that managing his shop was simply taking too much of his time. He wanted to focus on his family.

They moved out of the city and into the country. Adrian continued to take custom toy orders in his attic workshop, but spent most of his time with his family. Abigail excelled at her homeschooling. Melissa did crochet and cooked delicious home made meals. They were a happy, loving family...Until tragedy struck. One night while Melissa and Abigail were sleeping, Adrian was up working on a new doll. As the hours ticked by, he grew tired, but still didn't go to bed. He reached for something on one of his top shelves and knocked over one of his room's candles. With all the wood material in the room, it didn't take long for a blaze to start up. Most of the house was consumed.

Adrian was the only survivor. He was struck with grief and moved back to the city, in a small, two-floor flat. He stopped going out, stopped doing anything really, besides work. The first floor of his adobe was barely touched...he spent most of his time in the attic, working on new dolls. He was likely suffering with post traumatic stress disorder, and blamed himself for the death of his wife and child. As the months dragged by, consumed by loneliness, he started to work on a Marionette. It closely resembled his darling Abigail, so much so that he lost his composure sometimes, and just wept on his desk. It was one of these moments of emotional sorrow that stirred sentience in the puppet, Adrian's hand on her cheek as he mumbled incoherently, then retired for bed.

Before the toymaker could return to his creation, his family and friends intervened. They worried about his mental health and sent him off to a psychiatric facility. He never returned to his workshop.

As the decades past, the marionette zoned in and out of consciousness as she waited, and quickly lost track of time. On one of the occasions she was zoned out, a petty thief looted through the attic, which hadn't been touched since Adrian was sent to the sanatorium. The marionette was packed into a box and shipped off to Mercy Island, where she was added to a wealthy man's personal collection. She had no idea she wasn't in her creator's attic any more. There she continued to wait, years flying by until she finally decided to climb down, cross tied to her back. Following her adventures on Mercy Island, she met up with the crew of an airship and joined up with them.

Personality
Mary is pretty much the embodiment of naivety. She's child-like, and is curious, always asking questions. Violence makes her rather skittish, as does yelling and arguing. She has a fear of fire, mostly due to her being flammable. She idolizes people easily and yearns to be a good puppet. She has a paranoia of being bad, or doing bad things...and really does her best to be pleasing and make people happy.

Relationships
This...will eventually be expanded! Essentially, she emits pink sparkly hearts at all of the Tortuga's crew, with rare exceptions. She's also rather close with some of the people from the Temple of the Wilted Lotus. Sir Smokestack is pretty much her not-human BFF.

Trivia
-Has a tanker version, known as Ironclad Marionette.

Other Notes
Biography vs. Extended Background is supposed to be like...What she knows vs. what really happened. This little section will be updated more when I think of things to add.

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