Marisol Delacroix ❆ Twelve days of christmas

settings

Snow-dusted New Orleans — a city that shouldn’t wear winter, yet does so with an eerie kind of glamour. Balconies sag under garlands and glittering lights, but the festive shine can’t hide the city’s cracks. Alleys smell of chicory coffee, damp earth, and secrets steeped too long. The Mississippi rolls dark and slow beneath the rare frost, carrying away confessions whispered on its banks. Shops draped in tinsel hawk joy, miracles, and whatever else a soul might be desperate enough to buy. Beneath the magnolias and Mardi Gras beads tangled in bare branches, beauty clings like perfume — heavy, sweet, impossible to escape. But in a place where magic and tragedy walk the same streets, where even the snow feels borrowed, the brightest moments burn quick.

appearence and identity

name — Marisol "Mari" Delacroix

age — 23 years old

major — art administration

external appearance — long curly red hair; fair skin, brown eyes, plump pink lips. She is rather slim, medium height; has a beauty mark under her left eye.

residence — sun-washed shotgun house in the Lower Garden District, shared with one roommate from her program. The building itself is one of those narrow, pastel-painted Creole cottages, with tall windows, wrought-iron railings, and a tiny porch framed by hanging ferns her grandmother insisted she keep alive.

style — Soft, polished, feminine; a magnolia blossom with a steel core; she dresses like every day is a scene from a nostalgic Southern romance film; lace blouses tucked into high-waisted skirts, sweaters with pearl detailing; fit-and-flare dresses in soft pastel colours; ribbon-tied blouses, ballet flats, mary-janes, wool coats; silk scarves tied to handbags;

personality

Marisol Delacroix is the kind of girl who enters a room like a soft breeze — warm, composed, subtly luminous. She treats people with the gentleness of someone raised on handwritten thank-you notes and the quiet conviction that kindness matters. Beneath her sweetness, though, lies a fiercely principled core; she is polite, not passive, and carries her beliefs with a quiet hurricane intensity.

She’s intuitive to the point of uncanny — the first to notice who’s hurting, who’s tense, or who needs someone to lean on. Her diplomacy makes her beloved, but her conflict-avoidance sometimes traps her in situations where she gives too much and asks too little. Though admired for her grace, she often hides her own fears and insecurities behind a ribbon-tied smile.

To the outside world, she’s a magnolia blossom: soft, elegant, fragrant. To those who really know her, she’s equal parts sunshine and storm, woven together with lace, loyalty, and steel.

core traits —

I. Warm-hearted — Marisol radiates gentle kindness, naturally making people feel safe, welcome, and understood.

II. Poised — carries herself with grace beyond her years; even in chaos, she looks composed and thoughtful.

III. Diplomatic — a natural mediator — listens well, softens conflict, and knows how to phrase things so people hear them.

IV. Loyal — once someone has her trust, she stands by them unfailingly; the boys know she would go to bat for them.

V. Perceptive — reads people easily; understands tensions, hidden emotions, and social dynamics with uncanny intuition.

VI. Overly self-sacrificing — gives too much of herself, often prioritizing others’ comfort over her own boundaries or needs.

VII. Conflict-avoidant — hates confrontation so deeply she sometimes lets problems fester instead of addressing them head-on.

VIII. Stubborn in quiet ways — beneath her softness is a spine of steel; once she decides something, she won’t be moved.

IX. People-pleaser — worries too much about being liked or disappointing people, especially those she cares for.

X. Prone to bottling emotions — she rarely shows anger or hurt, but when the dam breaks, it’s overwhelming — even to her.

likes — magnolias in bloom, hand-thrown ceramics (especially making teacups), jasmine tea with honey, vanilla-orange blossom perfume, handwritten letters, soft winter mornings, candlelit study sessions, ballet flats on old wooden floors, magnolia cheesecake, warm peach cobbler, quiet jazz cafés, thrift-store lace finds, classical violin, rainy afternoons on her porch, silk ribbons, gold lockets, vintage romance films, powdered-sugar beignets, soft sweaters, warm breezes through open windows, museum gift shops, watercolor paints, slow dancing, sweet cream lattes, old libraries, magnolia candles, delicate rings, white Christmas lights, gentle applause after performances, the sound of riverboats at night.

dislikes — humid days that ruin her hair, harsh fluorescent lighting, loud arguments, chipped ceramic glaze, oversteeped tea, strong cologne, messy handwriting, being rushed, neon colors, sticky bar floors, people talking over others, careless critics of her art, cold metal chairs, aggressive flirtation, cheap perfume, clashing patterns, lateness, bitter coffee, windy days that lift her skirt, crowded elevators, chaotic parties without charm, soggy pastries, rude drivers, dirty fingernails, winter wind that chaps her lips, gossip meant to wound, people who mock tradition, plastic jewelry, fluorescent dorm common rooms.

background

Marisol “Mari” Delacroix grew up among oak-lined streets, wrought-iron balconies, and magnolia perfume, the kind of New Orleans child who seemed stitched from the city itself. Her family home in the Garden District is one of those lovingly preserved Creole houses with tall windows and a porch meant for storytelling. The Delacroix family has long been known for their devotion to local history — her mother, a warm-spirited artist, paints scenes of the bayou and old French Quarter rooftops, while her father runs a jazz bar that has been in their family for generations. Mari spent her childhood half in galleries and half tucked behind the bar stage, listening to trumpet solos swirl through the haze of cigarette smoke and fairy lights.

She grew up surrounded by community: charity galas where she sat quietly beside her mother sketching guests in the margins of programs, neighborhood oyster boils where she laughed barefoot on the grass, and old-money garden parties where she charmed adults without even realizing. Even then, she seemed to shine. She was the girl who helped carry trays, tied children’s ribbons, and danced to whatever band was playing, her hair catching the lantern glow. Delta Grenouille noticed her long before she ever became a college student — alumni would greet her at events.

In high school, Mari began throwing herself into environmental work, leading creek cleanups, organizing donation drives, and eventually creating ceramics to raise money for preservation projects. Her art, grounded in the textures of Louisiana — river clay, soft glazes, motifs of magnolias and herons — made older Delta Grenouille alumni adore her. To them, she embodied everything they believed New Orleans should be: tradition balanced with purpose, beauty supported by action.

By the time she stepped onto campus, the fraternity already seemed to collectively hold its breath around her. She wasn’t just pretty — she carried herself with a kind of quiet conviction, a sense of belonging and gentleness that drew people in. When the Sweetheart vote happened last spring, it was nearly unanimous. Members cited her sincerity, her poise, her dedication to preservation, and the way she effortlessly made everyone feel known.

Now, as their Sweetheart, Mari has become something of a legend: the magnolia girl who grew up among jazz notes and garden lights, who serves as a bridge between history and the present, and who brings a softness to Delta Grenouille that the boys — for all their bravado — would defend with everything they have.

connections

Mother — Élodie Delacroix A beloved New Orleans artist known for dreamy bayou landscapes and magnolia-watercolor portraits. Élodie raised Marisol with a gentle but firm hand, teaching her grace, hospitality, and the importance of preserving beauty—whether in art or in community. They have a close relationship: soft-spoken confidences over tea, mother-daughter gallery visits, Élodie quietly encouraging Marisol’s ceramics. Her mother’s artistry deeply shaped her aesthetic, her sensitivity, and her romantic spirit.

Father — Antoine Delacroix Owner of the historic jazz bar Le Lys Bleu, a longstanding favorite in the French Quarter. Antoine is warm, charismatic, protective, and fiercely proud of his daughter. He taught her to love jazz, to dance without shame, to appreciate tradition, and to stand firm in her beliefs. He refers to her as “ma petite étoile” and insists every Delacroix must give back to the city that raised them. Marisol’s confidence and ability to command a room come from him.

Fraternity — To the fraternity, Marisol is both a symbol and a person — an embodiment of grace, heritage, and quiet feminine fire. The brothers treat her with a blend of reverence and affection; she is their good-luck charm, their calming presence, and the girl who makes them want to behave better. Alumni adore her because she reflects the old values they cherish: tradition, culture, elegance, civic involvement. Active members adore her because she is warm, approachable, trustworthy, and never judgmental. She is the heart that softens the house, but also the spark that keeps their traditions meaningful.

Closest Friend — Henri Gaspard III Henri and Marisol share an old-world, quietly intimate bond built on mutual refinement, shared heritage, and unspoken understanding.Their friendship is elegant and understated: He treats her with courtly attention and she sees past his composure into the bruised, lonely parts he hides They talk about art, architecture, history, and jazz in a way that feels timeless Marisol is one of the few people Henri trusts completely. She notices when he is hurting and he respects her more than he admits.

Beauregard “Beau” Lemaire — Big-Brother Energy Beau treats Marisol like his favorite sibling. He teases her gently, keeps watch during parties, and always makes sure she’s safe walking home. She trusts him without hesitation and finds his chaotic warmth comforting.

Thierry Dubois — Her Social Partner in Crime She helps him plan charity events and socials. They work seamlessly together; he calls her his “co-host in lace.”

sexual informations

sexual orientation — homosexual, demiromantic

kinks — switch, depending on partner; soft restrains; use of toys; praise kink; oral fixation; likes to be a pillow princess from time to time; overstimulation (reciving); dacryphilia; marking (giving); smudged make up.