hi, everyone!! this is dede (19, she/her, utc+2), and i’m pleased to introduce st. margaret mary’s favourite eccentric artist and the life of every party on campus, miss marie-madeleine lefebvre! more info under the cut. feel free to add me on discord (@***** ***#0688)!
the basics.
name: marie-madeleine lefebvre
age: 26 years old
occupation: graduate student (art history major)
chastitiy club position: secretary / dealer
the story.
I’M FEELING DEVIOUS.
as a young girl, they told her she was special. that she was the most intelligent child they could ever hope for, that one day, she would have some sort of great destiny to fulfill, something incredible to contribute to the world. and that, they said, is why she couldn’t just stay in school along with all the other children she’s ever known. it would be better for her if she learned some actual new things, they explained, and that is why this special program some unknown third party recommended to them would be the perfect solution. of course, it was in the pyrenées, far from normandy, where her home was and where they themselves were - but it would let her reach that potential that was inside of her already. she wanted to become learned and well-respected like papa, didn’t she? that’s what they thought.
YOU’RE LOOKING GLAMOUROUS.
the route of mathematics they chose for her back at home was something of a mistake, quickly corrected by those at the gifted children’s program. they trained her in all sorts of knowledge, skills and sciences. the work was hard, harder than ever before. she didn’t have to really study before, she just… remembered what was said in classes. now it was a completely different world from what she’d known, and the change didn’t seem to be for the better. her days passed her by quickly, over textbooks, required reading, notes and guides, learning to have a sharp mind as well as excellent manners, to think critically while following every possible rule of savoir-vivre known to the world. she didn’t want to be worse than all the other students there, didn’t she? that’s what they thought.
LET’S GET MISCHIEVOUS.
the life they had planned for her down to the second couldn’t seem appealing anymore as soon as she could really grasp it - when she had some time to even think about it, that is, in the middle of the night. there had to be more to being a teenage girl than absorbing facts like a sponge. a purposeless sponge, since now it didn’t seem so eager to have the floor wiped with it. the ability to pick one’s own courses came soon after that. of course, the choice was mostly up to the parents. but not if someone decided to, say, not read the letters they sent at all and refuse to answer any calls before picking what would distress them the most - any and all art-oriented courses the program had to offer. and after learning she was immensely dedicated to and rather proficient in painting, they wouldn't forbid something that brought such promise, would they? that's what she thought.
AND POLYAMOROUS.
when one achieves small victories, they only fuel the need for newer, bigger, more impactful ones. her case wasn't any different. she could find an academic path she was truly interested in and wanted to continue pursuing - could securing a social standing possibly be harder? she'd read and watched stories about wild, free-spirited women. surely such a woman would be appreciated in these strict surroundings as a break from the monotony. and so she was - the next year, when she was young and sweet, only seventeen, was an endless series of laughs. she laughed when a new social circle accepted her at her table in the cafeteria. she laughed as she choked on her first cigarette. she laughed, pulling the hands of two different boys at once, looking if no teacher could see them running to an empty dorm. she laughed when an older friend brought her a bag of coke for the first time. and when they told her to take her things, she laughed still, walking out the gates. nothing they did could bring her down, could it? that's what she thought.
WINE AND WOMEN AND WONDERFUL VICES.
all the pointless knowledge forced into her head wasn’t something she terribly missed. there was, however, still a host of problems to be taken care of. the first was, of course, the family she’d left back home. they were displeased with her getting expelled to say the least, and didn’t seem to be easy to appease. the second was her art. for all her distaste for the schooling system, she did at last have something she wanted to practice - something she wanted to master, to turn into a career, to be better, the best at. as luck would have it, both these problems had a solution. the family, thinking it would be an excellent continuation of her education, pulled some strings to get her accepted into some catholic university in paris - paris, with all its sights and nightlife, was an offer she couldn’t refuse. besides, the art history courses seemed cut out for her. she quickly regained the exact reputation she had in her previous environment - of the life of the party, the one who makes life interesting - and can still pull her weight and pass any exam after a year of slacking off in the brief moments she’s not painting or attending yet another rager. she couldn’t have it any other way, could she? that’s what she thought.
WELCOME TO THE CULT OF DIONYSUS.
the newly revived chastity club was something she chose to look into for one reason and one reason only: it seemed like the most hilarious extracurricular concept she’d ever heard of in her life. to be fair, it was even funnier when she discovered the true purpose of the club - and when she just sort of stayed there. the people, contrary to what she’d assumed, were not complete prudes - well, most of them - and they seemed to see the potential in her. she truly was valuable to their grand operation - with her reputation, her contacts and all the events she got invited to. before she thought about it twice, she was their partner in literal crime - and they’d somehow managed to become her closest companions at st. margaret mary’s. the sweet rush of adrenaline dealing provided her with wasn’t comparable to anything. maybe except for how at home she felt among these people, no matter how sappy that sounded. they needed their secretary, and she needed them, didn’t she? that’s what they thought.
the headcanons.
while the style marie-madeleine practices currently in her works (and has been for a while) is decidedly surreal (some would go as far as to call it psychedelic… i wonder why), she has dabbled in impressionism in the past, leaving it after she found it too restricting (and after she started, to put it mildly, enhancing her perception with recreational substances while painting more routinely).
despite the gifted children’s program having taught her critical thinking and a rational, mostly agnostic approach to life, marie-madeleine is very superstitious and interested in the occult, frequently giving semi-clandestine tarot readings to fellow students at st. margaret mary’s, an activity frowned upon by more religious classmates and the school itself. no one truly knows if she actually believes what she says she does or if these practices are more ironic on her part, simply another facet of the eccentric artist mythos she’s built up around herself.
marie-madeleine prefers to use her full, hyphenated first name instead of just marie, even if most people end up calling her just that out of convenience; some would say she revels in the biblical ‘sinner’ allegory, and she frequently makes jokes about her new testament namesake.
she’s gotten in trouble with the chastity club a few times before for exchanging their stock for notes she couldn’t be bothered to take but needed to study for major exams, although substituting some of her own money for the earnings she would have otherwise brought in always got her off scot-free.
she has, at some point, come across the concept of gifted kid burnout and recognized it in herself, although it didn’t bother her like some may think it would. like all her non-social responsibilities, it was just another thing to push to the back of her head.
she has a few bottles of bourbon, her alcohol of choice, hidden in strategic spots around campus, including her handbag, some of the ladies’ rooms and more. no one knows where they all are - probably including marie-madeleine herself.
marie-madeleine has always harbored something of a fondness for greek mythology, just for the sheer absurdity of it all and for what terrible beings the gods really were. then again, she’d been taught the old testament multiple times, and it didn’t seem that much nicer. whenever someone tells her she’s being a disappointment to god (more often than you’d think), she likes to think dionysus would be proud of whatever she’s doing.
she likes to write on the back of her paintings, but not just write anything - what she does is use a rather simple code she devised to mark what sort of influence she was under while painting the work in question. it just seems reasonable not to forget that.
while her drinking and drug use is pretty out of control, she doesn’t smoke as much now as she did when she was a teenager. perhaps it’s because drugs are more easily accessible to her now, or maybe cigarettes just got too boring.
she would never tell anyone this, but she has a particular love for fluffy things, especially clothes - during colder months, when no one can see her, she walks around her apartment in a thick, fluffy robe and matching slippers.
she’s a cat person if the choice is only between that and dogs, but what she really prefers pet-wise is birds. she currently owns a black-headed caique named amadeus.
despite needing it to keep up the chastity club rouse, she doesn’t keep up an appearance of religiosity in front of classmates, as it would directly contradict most of her image at st. margaret mary’s. when it comes to staff, however, she’s a perfect, if unconventional, follower of jesus christ as far as they’re concerned.
she thinks it’s very funny to sneak up on others and then say something out loud when she knows it will scare them nearly to death. complaints have been heard, but not taken to heart.
her favourite holiday is surely halloween, partially because everyone suddenly wants her to do their makeup, partially because there’s twice as many parties as usual, and partially because of how triggered the most religious of her fellow students get, which she finds hilarious.
she likes to gesticulate a lot while speaking, and has gotten in trouble for this back at the gifted children’s program when she accidentally slapped a bypassing teacher in the face.
despite acting like a leo (or perhaps aquarius) stereotype, she is actually a sagittarius (shocker).
she grows vegetables on her balcony, and somehow always forgets to collect them until it’s too late. it just happens every time and she’s stopped fighting it at this point.
it’s sometimes funny to her how much conspiracy and care is being put into the chastity club’s weed trade, simply because of how lightly she views weed when compared to what she usually stuffs her system with in her spare time.
tba!
the aesthetics.
a red wine stain, striking against silky fabric. the devious smile of someone who knows exactly what will happen next. a worn-out deck of tarot cards. traces of cocaine on a marble counter. the bold, firm strokes of a brush on canvas. a half-eaten plum. a shawl flowing along as you move. the remains of paint on your fingers. a small bottle of bourbon hidden behind books on a shelf. healing crystals. ignoring responsibility until it goes away. golden hoop earrings. a broken high heel.
the wanted plots.
the good influence ( 0/1 ). another person different from marie, but in this case, they managed to strike up a friendship that probably ends with them lending her a few brain cells in exchange for what amounts to the ‘ted, i’m gonna teach you how to live’ gif from himym.
the rival ( 0/1 ). was it something in their shared past? just a general friction between people, as it often is? no matter why, these two don’t like each other in the slightest and will do most anything to show the other who’s the better... well... chastity club member here.
the neighbor/roommate/someone crashing on her couch ( 0/1 ). just because domesticity is adorable.
more to be added, but if you have ideas, hit me up!!
