Marionetta Characters Novels & Stories

A hand rose near her head, fingers curled, and then— Snap. The sound cracked like lightning. Marion’s body jerked. Her eyes rolled back. Her knees gave way, and she collapsed without grace or warning, folding to the floor like a marionette whose strings had been sliced. Silence. My breath caught in my throat. I didn’t scream. I couldn’t. My mind hadn’t caught up to what I’d just seen. One second she was standing, smug and cruel, and the next she was nothing but a heap of silk and limbs on the rug.

He inhaled, "'cause how the freaking hell do I look this good?" "Cut!" Someone yelled from behind. "Jackson," Maria nudged him, "that wasn't in the script!" Jackson broke character, again and everyone could hear the laughter that rippled through the rest of the crew. "Oh, Jackson...stop messing with the lines, Maria looks tired too," the cameraman said. But that had only been an excuse, Maria was laughing too.

MARION “Marion… what’s going on here?” Demetria laughed nervously, turning in a slow circle as she took in every familiar face. Her eyes widened even more when they landed on one person in particular. “Papa… you’re… what? How—?” Demetria blinked hard, like she was making sure she wasn’t hallucinating. Everyone chuckled—my parents, Marcel, Stephen, and his wife, Cyprian, Mikhail, Amanda with her whole bakery crew, and Anastasia’s husband. The room buzzed with warmth and excitement.

Not only was this man’s face deformed, but his heart was also just as twisted. It took Juliet quite a while to force herself to accept his appearance. Then, she carefully approached him. “You’re Phantom Marionette?” she asked. “Isn’t it obvious?” replied the man. Phantom Marionette crinkled his eyes and pointed to his face before extending a hand to Juliet. His hand was just as horrendous as his face. It seemed like every part of this guy had been washed with sulfuric acid. “What do you want?” Juliet asked with a frown.

The door abruptly opens and Marion saunters in, smiling like a Cheshire cat but it falters when his brown eyes look down at the tray of food " Chitique, why haven't you touched your food?" He asks. He squats on his legs, bringing his fingers to touch my cheeks but I slap them away. " Don't touch me," I growl angrily at him, I don't want his disgusting fingers on me. " Why are you always so mean to me? Am I that bad?" I push his frame, and he loses his balance. He stands up and hits me harder and I fall on the bed due to the impact. I touch my stinging cheek and glare at him, it hurts but for some unknown reason, my tears won't come out. I don't want them to, I won't give him the satisfaction

Declares a shouting woman's voice. They all freeze and stare at her beautiful face with her seductive blue eyes that match the complexion of lady Benerice. "I, Marionette, wishes to join the competition." "Foolish! Why would you join! Tell me, did you reject Viscount Kurt?" The Prince snarls at her in fury as he clenches his hand to a fist. "I, Marionette, rejected Viscount Kurt, who shares the same birthday of my loving Prince, for I do not wish to be his mate." She announces to the crowd as they all wheeze at her phrase because no one wishes to be rejected by their mate.

~~~ '5998--' '5999--' '6000!' Ethan delivered the last blow on the practicing marionette. Every single one of them had been broken and destroyed. His dad applauded from where he sat. 'Bravo! Nice going son!' Ethan smiled. 'It will take weeks to have all these fixed up,' one of his dad's workers grumbled. Kevin scoffed from the door way. 'That's hardly anything! When I was your age, I had taken down 7000 marionette blindfolded--'

The characters looked clumsy and childish, nothing like the elegant script of a proper lady. One afternoon, as I struggled with a particularly difficult character, laughter erupted behind me. The sound was sharp and mocking. "Look at this, Nanny Edwards!" a woman's voice crowed. "The girl writes like a child!" I turned to see an older woman holding one of my practice sheets. Her face was twisted with amusement. This must be Martha, Elder Morgan's personal attendant. Her eyes sparkled with malicious glee. Nanny Edwards snatched the paper from her with a disapproving frown. "She's trying, Martha. That's what matters."

she rasped, her voice laced with a dangerous edge. The name, a powerful entity in the infernal hierarchy, caused Andro to falter for a brief, but crucial moment. He glanced at Elena, a flicker of unease crossing his demonic features. That moment of hesitation was his undoing. With a silent flick of her wrist, Elena unleashed a torrent of shimmering energy. "Marionette!" she chanted, the word resonating with power. Wispy, translucent strings materialized from thin air, slithering towards Andro like deadly serpents. They coiled around his thrashing form, binding him tightly with an invisible grip.

Pepeng added. “I’m ready to deliver the goat down, Grandpa,” said Maria, dressed as one of the backwoodswomen round the hillside. “Here is a straw hat to complete your attire, dear,” Letty placed the hat on Maria’s head and the awkward girl crimped her twisty curls. “We’ll carry your belongings when your grandfather slaughters the thing tomorrow.” “YEY! I’m going to your house, so move your lazy, fat self, cousin!” said Pepe, mimicking her mother when she orders him hither and thither.