Welcome to Gaia! ::

Name: Marue Du'Lace
Age: 18
Gender: Female
Prisoner: Yes
Crime: Fraud--But the guards keep begging the Warden to put her in the unstable block. PLEASE.
Candidate: Yes
Former Craft/Rank: Privlidged, Spoiled, Youth. Oh, that doesn't count? How about 'trophy wife in training?' Is that better? No? Well, she does know how to sew, and dreams of bringing fashion to the poor, poor, ugly masses. Ugh. And someone get them some soap. Perfume. SOMETHING. Like, omg, she's about to pass out from their stink.

Appearance: Marue Du'Lace makes the prison jumpsuit look good. Well, as good as any one piece, baggy, horrifyingly red jumpsuit can. There are very few that will deny the girl has appeal: curves in the right places, with beautiful bright green eyes and Long, Luxurious, Flowing Golden Hair. (Yes. She thinks of it in capitalized and italicized letters, and yes, she refuses to think of it as short as it is.) Daily, she bites her lips in order to maintain their beautiful ruby shade, and she pinches her pale cheeks to give the impression of rouge. Often she will have her uniform cuffed, unbuttoned, twisted, whatever manner will make the damnable thing look something like presentable, not to mention avoid those terrible tan lines every other gross person here has. The girl does her best to keep from getting dirty, and a stain, even on such an ugly jumpsuit, will send her into a full rage, or panic attack, depending on her mood. Either way she'll screech at you until you pray for threadfall. Even more so than her clothes, she stresses over her hair. Every day it is done up in some flamboyant style, or at least as much as she can manage with out such proper product for her hair. She cried for months when her head was shaved--which was quite a spectacle in and of itself. The petite girl suddenly turned as dangerous as an unbonded wher, and eventually had to be sedated for the safety of the guards. "Which was totally uncalled for, I mean, like, SERIOUSLY. I'm a prisoner, not a BARBARIAN." The guard Brakesh always takes more than just a bit of satisfaction knowing she was one of the guards to shave off those long, pretty locks. Currently, Maru wears her hair in a simple sexy bob, though often flamboyantly styled with braids or whatever else she can manage.

You'll never see her with a pimple, but not because she never gets them: rather, the girl hyperventilates at the sight of one, which often results in her passing out cold. She will then proceed to hide until the demon mark has gone away.

Personality:
Madame Marue Du'Lace, as she introduces herself, has an immediate privileged and snobby air. She'll flip her long blonde hair, and you'll know immediately. Like, she might a prisoner, but she's still way better than you. This air about her is almost impossible to keep in check, and thus far the only time anyone has seen it subside is when she is in the presence of someone as pretty as herself. Mind you, anyone she finds prettier (which she will never admit that there even is such a person) she has two very specific responses to: should they be male, they will be fawned over with batting eyelashes and just the right amount of cleavage, should they be female, she will likely treat them with catty jealousy and the singular most pompous, dismissive hair flip that Pern has ever had the misfortune to be host to.

She certainly has a nack for fashion, and the closest thing she gets to treating anyone like a proper human being are her guerrilla style make overs, in which she will take up some poor, ugly, lost soul and works her magic to make them Beautiful. Perhaps the worst and most intolerable part of this is that she almost always succeeds. It is her only vaguely redeeming quality, though you will have to withstand her pompous air the entire time, leaving most feeling like it's an even trade, rather than grateful. Marue on the other hand sees it as her subjects being ever ungrateful, and rather thinks of herself as a saint because of it. "It's so hard being pretty, no one ever appreciates all the hard work I have to go through."

Perhaps it is worth making note that the Madame has running static with a Certain Ugly Guard by name of Brakesh. She just can't understand why that ugly girl is so jealous of her, and Brakesh can't understand why the warden won't let her break that pretty face.

History:
Marue was born into a very privileged family, and thusly was groomed to be a proper wife rather than receiving the useful training most on Pern take on. Painting, singing, along with an entire host of completely useless skills were drilled into her brain. She learned her lessons well enough, to keep clean, and manicure her appearance. It is worth noting that irritating little monsters like Marue are not born, but created, and boy did her mother get creative. Superficially they had the perfect life, wealthy, happy. No one would ever know about her Mother's severe Dust addiction, just barely managed for appearances, and her father's drinking, managed much in the same way. How was a child supposed to understand a drunken rage, or a mother's fits when the dust supply dwindled? All she knew was that she had to try harder. Had to be perfect. Had to look perfect. At home the child was placed on a hair trigger, never sure when one or the other would fly off the handle. Her nannies kept her sheltered as much as they could, bless them. But when it came down to it, they were simply hired help. Marue could remember one, she had cared for her since she was a baby, when her mother could not be bothered. When Marue was five, her mother flew into a particularly firey rage. Glados, or Glayglay as the child had always called her, watched, horrified as the rabid woman screamed at her daughter. All she had done was spill a glass, a simple glass of water! But when the woman swang at her own kin, Old Glayglay had enough. Before the manicured Lady's hands could land on the child, the old woman swang hard, and gave her a black eye followed by a stern and heated lecture. Marue never saw old Glayglay again, and boy had she cried. It was as if, no. It was that they had taken away the only mother the child had ever really known. Her mother was more careful with the nannies from then on. They never stayed long, and the moment they so much as looked at the Lady wrong, their stay at the home had ended. Their cook on the other hand, was much better at keeping his mouth shut. The child lived for their produce deliveries, which--unbeknownst to the Lord and Lady of the house--were by some clever miracle (worked by none other than the shrewd cook) delivered by none other than Old Glayglay herself. It took little to persuade the Lord and Lady to allow the child underfoot in the kitchens, where Marue would spend her treasured visits with her old nanny. One day when she was ten she ran down to the kitchen to meet her old nanny, only to be greeted by a strange face. The cook's face was grave as the new lady whispered tearfully to him, and the child could only look on, and try to understand. The cook risked his job when he snuck the child out of the house for a full three hours to attend the beloved old woman's funeral. Never before, and never since, has Marue cried so hard, deeply and honestly. Old Glayglay's family was kind. They had heard their mother, their grandmother, their aunt, speak of the little child with honest love and honest pain, and Marue would never understand how they had come to love her for that alone. They were kind enough to give her the old mother's necklace--a treasure she would keep for the rest of her life. When it came time to relinquish her possessions as she entered the prison, it was still hung around the girl's neck, and giving it up felt like a part of her dieing, but she did so with no fuss, only a lip bitten so hard it bled and a few very bitter tears.

When Marue had turned twelve, she begged her mother and father to allow her to learn Weaver Craft. Her mother winced at the suggestion, how common. Still, if it would keep the blasted child out of her hair, she would agree. Marue buried herself in her work, an adept studen when it came to sewing and constructing clothing, but as any teenager there was a rather.. severe rebellion. Her father's money got her out of more trouble than not, mostly little things. Why should she worry? She wasn't one of the common masses, she was heir to the Du'Lace fortune. It wasn't until she decided that impersonating a Dragon Watch member was the easiest way to get what she wanted that things went sour. Her father managed to have her charge reduced to fraud, but had no such luck in keeping his little girl from prison. Admittance was traumatic, and barbaric in her mind, as has every day since.


Other stuff: I completely understand if you guys don't approve this.