Marie Fister is a character role-played by AlyOren.
Quotes[]
"It me, Marie!"
"Fister? I barely know her!"
"Love you, bye!"
"You killed a man in front of my eyes!"
Notes[]
- Marie has eaten an entire deflated basketball. (Not confirmed)
- Marie has shit herself to death on at least one occasion.
- Marie is missing an arm.
- Marie has performed the second national anthem of Cuba in a Cuban Embassy.
- One of Marie's first prized weapons was a keyboard. It was supposed to be for office purposes.
Character Description[]
Marie Crystalynn Fister wasn’t always full of the wildfire that matched the color of her hair. Marie is a fiesty, take-no-shit Southern woman with a pension for chaos. Growing up in rural Alabama on her parents’, Sandy and Dick, farm, she was taught to not be heard or seen. To work, to grovel, and to be thankful.
After being suppressed for so long, the pressure was bound to crumble her or turn her into a diamond. With a penchant for chaos, a love for adrenaline despite her fear of disappointing people, Marie is a feisty, southern people pleaser to a fault.
When Marie walks into a room, the first thing she looks for is the best way to make every single person there laugh, to fall for her charms, to be drawn in to her circle and see the world the way she sees it: through her eyes and her eyes only. For Marie, while she tries her best to convince others to fall into her orbit, for them to make her their sun, she's never felt worthy of it. All she's ever wanted is to be loved, cherished, but any time anyone has ever gotten close, she's cut and run.
But it doesn't stop Marie from continuing to try. To dip her toes into friendships, even if they're fleeting, even if they're only for a few moments so that she can snag a free burger or a couple bucks.
Underneath her goofy facade, there is a woman who bleeds for everyone but never herself. She so desperately wants to be seen, for it to be safe for her walls to come down. If someone is hurt, she's the first person helping them to their feet. But if she's the one on the ground, she's telling everyone not to worry and to help themselves first.
Marie loves being the reason someone laughs or smiles, and it's a huge reason why she always felt comfort in the chair of a salon. The only kindness she's ever allowed herself when extra cash trickled in was a salon. And it's always been a dream of hers to open up a place like that of her own - nails, fashion, hair, anything, as long as it meant being a place of comfort, a place where people could literally and figuratively let their hair down.
Backstory (Pre-Los Santos)[]
After a tumultuous upbringing, then came the adoptive older brother, Michael. Determined to hate him out of spite, out of knowing her parents only made the decision to have more hands on the farm and especially when they so clearly showed him more affection than she’d ever seen even between her parents… It made it that much harder for Marie when Michael Blackwood was the only person outside of her aunt that ever felt like family.
When her Aunt Anita was barred from seeing the kids when she turned 16, Marie lost herself in the monotony, living solely on the memories of the nights Anita would drive her around the city not far from the farm, every so often leaning out the window in search of her next husband or trying to scam someone out of money. Even sitting in the passenger seat, silent, had been better than this. Michael did his best to break her out of her slump, to try and find the little rebellions they could sneak themselves. Like buying processed sugar at the gas station down the road. Or staying up until 9pm even when they had to be up at 3am the next morning to feed the animals.
And then she turned 17 and dared to ask Sandy to get a driving permit. Furious at the prospect of allowing any sort of freedom, but convinced maybe she could use her daughter’s privileges to run to the store for her Newports and too lazy to teach her herself, Sandy obliged.
Tapping her foot and giving a curt wave as Marie drove off with the young, female instructor, Sandy made the biggest mistake she could.
Just shy of 20, Lauren was the first woman other than her aunt that made her feel like life really could exist beyond the farm. Just trying to make some cash on the side while saving to send herself to college, Lauren reminded Marie that she was more than just a farmhand. Every driving lesson was far more than that. The billed hours became fifteen minutes driving to the park down the road and sipping on energy drinks from the gas station until they were both giggly and vibrating all the way back to the farm. Then came sneaking whatever alcohol they could get their hands on, spending hours in the sun, laughing, talking, and pretending that Sandy wasn’t at home wondering where she was, wondering why it had been two months of daily driving lessons without a lick of proof Marie was learning anything about a car.
With Michael no longer in daily proximity, finally escaping the farm to find his passion in paramedics, it was nice to find someone again that felt like… that felt like… home. And he found home in his wife, Autumn.
One afternoon, soaking in the buzz of the tiny Fireball sips and the simmering sun, Marie turned to Lauren and realized that she couldn’t let this woman out of her life. And without thinking, with Lauren’s ocean eyes pouring back into hers, she leaned forward and kissed her.
The buzz became a roar, and Marie let instinct take the wheel. Lauren didn’t shy away. She matched every movement, every kiss, every touch.
Until a gaggle of teenage boys stumbled across them, jeering, tossing empty beer bottles at them to break them up. And just like that, the wildfire that had been brewing in Marie exploded.
Without thinking, Marie stood up and swung with full force. Years of working on the farm, all it took was one punch, one of them knocked out on the ground, and the other boys were running for the hills.
“One Punch Fisty,” Lauren had called her, laughing, thanking her for defending them, as they ran back to the car.
But as their friendship turned into a relationship, as Marie let herself realize that she was attracted to both men and women, Sandy’s fury grew. Her overbearance became unbearable, untenable, unlivable. Michael’s wife was killed in a patrol accident, and even with him back in the house with her, Michael withdrew, his PTSD and grief consuming him. Lauren was the only light left.
Sandy revoked the driving lessons, forcing Marie to sneak out at night to see Lauren. Sandy locked her bedroom door at night, barred the windows, and still, the wildfire raging in Marie’s heart burned bright enough for her to find another way.
And when Marie finally had the guts to say it to Sandy’s face, to say she was bisexual, Marie was on her ass, door slammed behind her within seconds. And her father did nothing to stop it, complacent in his passivity. And with one forlorn glance towards her adoptive brother’s bedroom window, the curtains still drawn tight, she turned on her heel and bid Alabama goodbye.
Marie tapped into the fond memories of watching her aunt from the passenger seat, a single backpack to her name, and hotwired the farm truck. The last time she ever heard from Sandy was the vulgar screams thrown down the driveway as Marie sped away.
Marie went right to Lauren, begging her to run away with her. But when she saw the college acceptance letter in Lauren’s hands as she opened the door, the tears in her eyes, Marie knew she would be doing this on her own.
For ten years, Marie drifted across the country, using men, using women, to get from one place to the next. Her heart became a fortress, never letting anyone get it in, only letting them think they were. And with stranger’s money, no one to tell her no, fake ID’s and stolen liquor bottles, One Punch Fisty often found herself on the opposite side of the law.
When she was 21, and one of the times she got into a bar brawl, knocking out a gropy, sweaty man with one punch, she found herself outside of the college Lauren, all those years ago. Marie climbed into an open window, finding herself in an empty dorm room, and decided that it would be the perfect place to hide.
Lauren was long gone at that point, but it didn’t stop Marie from scaring the shit out of the girl who’s dorm room it was when she came home after classes to Marie smoking weed on her bed. And it certainly didn’t stop Marie from corrupting the would-be lawyer, April, and igniting someone else’s wildfire. Until the cops came knocking on doors locking for the red-headed bar brawler, April and Marie spent nights stealing kisses and smoking joints, blowing the smoke out of the window and giggling loud enough that the neighbors would pound on the walls. The fortress of her heart cracked, letting April in. The first person since Lauren.
When Marie was finally forced to leave, forced to leave April behind, she couldn’t seal the gap anymore, the pain too great to mask. She vowed to never be tied down again. Marie loved hot and loved fiercely, and even when she went back to scamming, some part of her still burned for real love, real companionship.
Marie finds herself in Sandy Shores in Los Santos after another drive away from another furious “fiance” with another giant engagement ring getting her this far. With no more land to cover, Marie knows this might be her last chance to grow roots. And with that gap in the fortress of her heart, ready to be filled with something other than romance, one true friend would be all it takes to find home for the first time in her entire life. With a decade of fighting and standing up for herself, her wildfire still burns bright, but Marie is ready for it to burn for more than just herself.