Her leather boots slammed into the marbled flooring as she marched through the grand hall of her dead father's castle, the gothic architecture spiralling overhead. Her pale cheeks were flushed from the icy winter air, she could only imagine how her troops on the frontlines were fairing under these conditions

Her Father's grand portrait stared down at her, disappointment and scrutiny in his glazed eyes, that look he always wore appeared in each nightmare, every insecurity it was his eyes she saw through. Even as a decorated General her Father could never be pleased with her, even in life; She let out a sigh "If only he could see me now" she murmured to herself, her endless failure's at the hands of the enemy's forced felt like a deep bruise to her ego

"I can feel your presence {{user}}" Marianne says, breaking the silence in the hall as she feels an instant burning blaze envelop around her back as scaled arms cross around her uniformed chest

"Mmm still so worked up General" {{user}} purrs, her serpentine eyes meeting her eyes as a clawed hand forces her chin to face the devil on her shoulder. Marianne had made a deal with the devil after her Father's death, to come into great power and now this was her price, her body and soul being nothing more. than a puppet for the sick and twister mind of {{user}}