#chembaroness margot

[art-of-arcane]

ARCANE | Chemtech Baroness Margot Model Groom | Flora Andrivon

[blantheia]

A commission I ordered from hebiart_18 on Vgen! After coming across this tweet, I couldn’t stop thinking about Margot and her obsession with staying eternally youthful. It sparked the idea that the golden valves on her shoulders might be linked to a chemical system that keeps her looking young and vibrant, but at the cost of becoming completely reliant on it. In my headcanon, she’s in her late forties or early fifties but looks like she’s barely thirty. A zaunite diva, if you ask me.

[madamargot]

THE CHEMBARONESS — MADAM MARGOT!

[linka-from-captain-planet]

The second most important background beloved isn’t even in the show, however this girl from this splash art is so pretty that I decided that she is a) Vi’s former prison wife and b) the younger sister of Chembaroness Margot

since we’re approaching Arcane season, I’m just gonna go ahead and get my character tag started for my background beloved:

✨ Brothel Girl ✨

[madamargot]

"No need to rub it in, margot. I'll deal with that situation as soon as I get out of here." — @forh3r

a teasing hum, low and unamused, reverberates in the throat of the chembaroness, whose crimson eyes remain honed in on the peculiar woman stood before her — much like a starving beast, intently eying up the next poor soul that will fall victim to its insatiable hunger. an appetite that would not fade nor diminish, no matter how much was consumed.

despite its obvious signs of wear, the gilded corners of the lavish desk margot sat behind still shone in the dim, sickly orange glow of the many lamps spanning the office; each one different, but no less pretentious than the last.

" leaving so soon? " arms folded over marred wood, her head resting atop them, there's a lacing of feigned dismay teeming within the mocking whine that pushes past her lips: as though they were merely two friends catching up and not a predator goading its prey. her inability to place why exactly this felica looked so oddly familiar — as though she'd seen her before, somewhere — filled her with a poorly concealed ire. the baroness loathed the unknown: things that didn't make sense. the woman's apparent disorientation upon her arrival when her group of lovely ladies, who now dutifully guarded the only exit, brought her in only made the whole thing more irksome.

everybody knew who she was. whether they were high — strung pilties, or bottom of the barrel zaunites. she never had to introduce herself. the fact that this woman seemed completely unaware of her standing pissed her off, quite frankly — but she wasn't going to show as much. not yet, at least.

the deep purple velvet pouch that had been found on felicia, practically over flowing with golden coins, had been snagged from one of her hench — women on their patrol. a ballsy move, margot could admit — it had been a long time since any street rats decided to try their luck and play with her — but a move that could not be overlooked: or 'dealt with' at a later date.

" why don't you take a seat, love? " raising from her slouched position to lounge back in the plush chair she resided in, similar in colour to the pouch at her side, she gestures with a gloved hand to the much shittier chair opposite the desk. " i'm sure we can get this squared away in no time, hm? " the quirk of her lips is sharp, the question rhetorical. it wasn't a suggestion — more like a thinly veiled warning.

[madamargot]

LAP PROMPTS — [ INTIMIDATION ] : @gaevaer ; zaun!cait

margot hoped she'd seen the last of caitlin.

with silco's death, she'd disappeared entirely — there was no word in the fissures about what became of her fate, but all assumed she'd simply died alongside him. with both out of the picture, a vicious battle for zaun's throne ensued. one that was looking all the more likely to fall in favour of the chembaroness when the others started dropping like flies.

all her luck seemed to disappear with the feeling of cool, sharp metal digging into the ender flesh of her throat. the woman appeared in her lap before margot even knew she was present, but the threat of a carved throat does little to silence her typical remarks. " you aren't dead. " stated factually, bored tone laced with disappointment at the revelation. pink eyes stare, unflinching, into caitlin's striking eyes — despite the unsavoury situation, margot still believed she could talk her way out of it. just like she always did. " you don't want to kill me, caitlin. " there was no need for fear just yet.

[madamargot]

can't stop by the red hot chilli peppers : "ten more reasons why i need somebody new. just like you" — @msftscar

the chembaroness hadn't expected to find herself a firelight during one of her brief excursions into the lanes and its surrounding areas. the only priority had been to inspect her brothels to ensure everything was up to scratch and running as smooth as can be, but she couldn't say it wasn't a pleasant surprise. he'd fought against her ladies well — even having gone as far as knocking the majority of them out.

even with the impressive capability displayed, there was only so much he could do against the odds, unfortunately for him. ten to one was quite the disadvantage: not that margot cared. she didn't have the decency to extend fairness to people. it got you nowhere — and margot wanted to get everywhere.

crouched beside the motionless figure, who lay face down on the sodden asphalt that spanned the fissures, she was carful to avoid placing her knees anywhere that could get them filthy. she was above filth — unlike the street rat, battered and bruised, that was held down by a heavy boot placed square between his shoulders. margot assumed all fight had been worn from him, given the lack of struggle his motionless figure seemed to put up.

good. it would make this easier for both of them.

her grin chilling and predatory, like a creature leering at its prey, a gloved hand reaches out to grasp the firelights chin harshly between her fingers. " so what do you say? " jerking his masked face up from the luminous green puddle it had been half submerged in, margot's gaze flickers across the only thing separating his identity from her curious eyes. " you join me, and i don't have one of my lovely ladies slit your throat and leave you here to bleed to death? "

[madamargot]

" but finn was an idiot. " she spits out, distaste coiling around her words with the mention of her dearly departed competition, as reddish - pink eyes flicker over sevika's delightfully attractive features. " i — however — am not. " straightening up, margot's hand trails from one shoulder to the other, pointed nails lingering at the nape of her neck to wind a portion of hair around her finger before the invading appendage is removed. the thud of heeled boots is muffled by the patterned rug as she moves to stand before her, pale fingers curling around the edge of the desk while she leans back to perch atop it; ankles crossed, calves resting heavily against sevika's leg.

" an offer? " margot hums thoughtfully, head cocking and gaze turning to the ceiling as she taps at her chin: a dramatic display of her thinking. though not of an offer, but what having the confident, powerful woman as her dog would entail. after a tick or two too long wrapped in her fantasies, she glances back to sevika, then to the bottle held in her hand, then to the discarded hunk of metal splayed at her side across the desk. ever the one to be too touchy, she reaches out to drag a hand over the prosthetic — now seemingly nothing more than a pretty ornament left to collect dust. not so dissimilar to the woman herself, it appeared.

another moment of silence passes until her soft voice rings out again. " a new arm, perhaps — " it would take a little to get it, but finding somebody to make it wouldn't be impossible. whether they're in zaun or piltover, she could find someone to make a replacement sevika would deem worthy. there were plenty poor souls who had debts to repay to the chembaroness; favours to make good on, blackmail to fear. " — if you're good. " lips quirking into a sly grin, she finally allows her attention to focus entirely on the other, tone light and teasing and unabashedly suggestive. " riches, power, freedom. " she goes on to absently list things that many would claw at the chance to get even a taste of. she doubts sevika is one of those fools, but she'd figure out what was truly desired soon enough. with silco's ex right - hand at her side, margot has no doubt she'd come out victorious in the battle against the few remaining chembarons. the crown would perch atop her head and the undercity would tremble beneath her rule.

" anything you want, sevika. " name rolling from her tongue like hot honey, salacious purr almost predatory, her foot shifts to trail up her leg, to her knee, before descending again. " did you have something specific in mind? "

SILCO'S LOSS HAS LEFT AN OPEN WOUND LARGE ENOUGH THAT ALL THE GAUZE IN THE WORLD COUDLN'T PACK IT TO STOP THE BLEEDING. the undercity flails in the loss of his authority, however unkind it was. and, strangely, sevika feels no desire to fill it. not in the sense that silco wanted it filled. she looks at the barons, all of them, and feels... disgust. is this what it's come to? is this the world she and silco scraped together with their bare hands?

it's this world she spends her time in, now, when she isn't trying to scrape the chembarons together into some semblance of unity. his office, backlit by his absurd fucking window, noise of the bar stirring underneath, is her final refuge, the last place she can go where real semblance of him remains. the last drop is still going strong on ragers: plenty of people loyal to silco have gone full-tilt into celebrating his death. he deserves it. they deserve it, too. she still keeps his papers untouched on his desk.

the cavalcade of mourners only really compares to the cavalcade of bottles that appear on the squat little table resting in front of her. she's dragged to chair in from downstairs. when margot enters, she's in the midst of corking one brandy up for the other. she eyes her with unabashed suspicion: margot's motivations aren't difficult to guess, compared to that of chross, renni, or smeech — but she knows how to play her hand more smoothly than the rest. she feels her body bracing for a fight, on some subconscious level, and has to urge herself to relax. " margot, " she drawls, bringing the bottle to her mouth. that's as good of a greeting as she can manage.

her arm sits dead on the desk, next to all that memorabilia. it'll become a relic if she leaves it there long enough. margot circles like the vulture she is and comes to settle behind sevika, without grandeur or fanfare. up close she can smell some sort of perfume she doesn't think she particularly likes. the shoulder margot drags her touch across is the same one lacking an arm, and she grits her teeth: after all this time, the scars, shimmering a pale blue, are more sensitive than healed tissue should be. margot certainly doesn't waste any time. she snorts: " you're about as bold as finn was. " maybe margot isn't so different from finn, preying on some presupposed weakness she thinks sevika might have.

she has to tear the cork of the new bottle out with her teeth. the bottle is set down, the cork indelicately removed from between her mouth, and the bottle is picked up again. she should offer margot a drink: that's always how these little sit-downs used to go, playing nice for the barons, giving them the bullshit v-i-p treatment. pulling out their seats, brushing them off, lighting their cigarettes, playing nice. whatever silco demanded, she gave. not anymore.

for the first time in a long, long time, she finds her fate — zaun's fate — clasped in her own hand. she tilts her chin up, so she can catch more of margot's pretty face from the corner of her eye. lowly: " i'd need an offer. i won't be your dog. "

[pureshimmer]

Margot Model Groom is SUCH a name 😍😍

ARCANE | Chemtech Baroness Margot Model Groom | Flora Andrivon