#get hired into a war and you may find yourself a nerd and lover

[trashbinbackyard]

Yö pimenee, mutta meitä ei nukuta Mä vannoin, etten aio suhun rakastua Mut tulipalo on irti ja mä haluun sua

for inktober i offer.... crumbs

[anneesfolleshq]

Bonjour et bienvenue! Paris welcomes you, our Assassin,  Margot Clarisse Lachapelle! May we say, you’re the spitting image of Ruth Negga! Please make your presence known within 24 hours, and do have a look at our checklist before setting out into the city on your own.                                                                                 À bientôt!

MUN

Name/Alias: Pooh

Preferred Pronouns: She/her

Age: 18

Timezone: GMT+2, I’ll mostly be on in the afternoons and you can expect me to be most active during weekends.

MUSE

Chosen Skeleton: The assassin

Muse Name: Margot Clarisse Lachapelle

Muse Age: 34

Chosen FC: Ruth Negga

Muse Occupation: Unassuming florist by day, deadly assassin-for-hire by night

Muse Affiliation & Frequent Haunts: If asked which side of the Seine she prefers, Margot would say her loyalty lies in neither. You’d think a life spent in Montmartre would make her biased fort he right bank. In truth, Margot migrates between both. She doesn’t refrain from traveling to Montparnasse when the night falls, searching for some entertainment, some distraction, or simply because her current assignment demands so of her. Margot can frequently be seen at The Blue Lotus, the Moulin Rouge, the street market, Le Ciel, L'Enfer and Parc Montsouris.

Direct from Le Petit Journal: The streets of Paris are graced once again with the return of Mademoiselle Lachapelle! The Great War has forced her family to seek refuge in the beautiful mountains of Switzerland, in one of their many chateau’s no doubt. However, Margot Lachapelle returns alone to the studio apartment in Montmartre. Could trouble be brewing? Recently, Mademoiselle Lachapelle has taken up a position as a florist at the Au Printemps flower shop, providing further evidence of financial issues. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves, dear readers! Who knows what secrets hide behind the piercing gaze of this high-society dame…

BIOGRAPHY

Margot Clarisse Lachapelle is old money. Born into the very upper-crust of Parisian society, her life is expected to be one without hardships. She is a lively child, barely standing still when her mother attempts to tie the perfect bow on her dress. The fire-cracker that is the little girl is challenged by horseback riding and, at the recommendation of her uncle, archery. Her mother dons a frown whenever her daughter returns from practice. A young lady should under no circumstances be holding a deadly weapon in her hands. It is in place. Margot persists. She is bright, so her teachers said. Private school for the elite is temporary, a fleeting experience. After she graduates, Margot is expected to find a suitor and wed.

Margot never finds a man, and her father suspects the private school gave her one too many ideas. No matter how many young gentlemen are sent to win over the lady’s heart, all return defeated. What is this woman doing that frightens so many young men? Discussing current political events? Expressing her frustration with her tutor, her wish to go to a real university? Gushing over the joys of running and subtly inviting the other to a football match? Most likely, it is all of the above. »You are a woman,« her mother tells her. »Your only concern should be to find a husband. You cannot study. You cannot play sports.« Margot spits back words of pure fury and the two do not speak until her mother pitches another wealthy bachelor to her. She plays her game, for a while. She never fully accepts her faith as merely an heir to the Lechapelle fortune, but she tries anyway. She’s fed up after meeting men who visibly cringed at her wish to perhaps one day pursue a career.

Her mother stops trying soon after Margot stops giving a damn. She’s reading too many books and skimming over too many articles for her tastes. Attempts of a conversation about the arms race fall on deaf ears and Margot wonders how dead she is to her mother already. Then comes the declaration of war. Suddenly, her mother has to pay attention to politics. They’re packing before she knows it, yet Margot puts up a resistance. Cowards, her parents are. Cowards, running away to safety, to Switzerland, when their country needs them the most. After heated arguments that leave Margot with a sore throat each time, she stays. Stays and watches men in herds leave the comforts of their home to defend it. They carry their bayonets and kiss their lovers goodbye and how Margot wishes she could go with them. To fight the Germans and those who threaten them. To defend France. But yet again, her mother’s words echo in her mind: you’re a lady, you’re a lady.

Marcel Lachance joins the army at 25. He’s the butt of all jokes when it comes to facial hair, his inability to grow a beard. His dark curls are crudely chopped off, peeking out slightly from under his helmet. He never removes his shirt in front of his fellow soldiers. His chest is bound, after all, hiding the lady of Lachapelle. But what Marcel lacks in masculinity, he makes up for on the field. He notoriously never misses a target. A natural born sharp-shooter, he impresses others with his calm hands and impeccable aim. His bravery is to be envied, his morale twice as much. He is hailed as an excellent soldier. He finally feels a sense of belonging. However, what most don’t notice is how he grits his teeth, how he clutches his gun so hard his knuckles turn white. The shaking of his form whenever the trenches are attacked, though to be fair, it’s a minuscule detail in those times. The excellent soldier is afraid, petrified, yet he persists. He remembers everything. The screams of his comrades, the blood that flows like a river through the war-stricken field. The hollow looks of shell-shocked soldiers he regarded as friends.

The scenes replay in his mind after they send them home. After he becomes she again and the uniform is stored in the back of her closet. Everyday life is a foreign concept to the war veteran. She gets a job at a flower shop. Sure, it’s not the career of her dreams, but it is standing up to her mother, fulfilling the wish of pre-war Margot. And she has to pay rent somehow. But she feels it inside, the dullness of everyday life, the yearning to march out and defend once again. Her wish to return to the glory days. She scolds herself each time. War brought devastation. Why on earth would she want to go back? No, stay here, smile as all the others do, prepare bouquets, do not think about it. It becomes routine: wake up bright and early, have breakfast, go to the flower shop, work, return in the evening and wonder how long until you completely lose your mind. Or perhaps, how much more appropriate it would have been for Margot to die in the battlefield. She wants adrenaline to pump through her veins once again, to feel as if she belongs. She needs it.

Her saving grace is her former fellow soldier, one of the very few that knew Marcel to be Margot. He finds her one night, hunched over a bar with empty liquor glasses keeping her company, a pile of misery. Dragging her home is a challenge. Margot is a giggling fool one moment and a screamer, crier and barely a person in the next. She tries to sleep with him, he politely declines. »You’ll drink yourself to death,« he remarks. Margot scoffs in return. »It’s what’s keeping me alive.« The desperation in her voice is clear despite her slurred words. At her doorstep, the fellow veteran offers a solution to end her despair. The next night, Margot stands before her jury- well-known mafia bosses are impressed with her marksmanship. Margot feels a sense of pride she hasn’t felt in a long time. They’ll pay her, they say. Equip her with the proper firearms and teach her the necessary skills. All she has to do is kill.

It’s nothing personal. For the right price, anyone will be her target. Margot doesn’t count the number of victims. She remains cold to the bloodshed, or at least attempts to. She can’t afford to feel grief or guilt when money’s on the line. When she’s a killing machine. When she’s at war.

POTENTIAL PLOTS/CONNECTIONS

While I’d be absolutely thrilled to interact with every one of the characters in-game (I love how each skeleton has a unique storyline!), I have some ideas for future plots with Margot:

First of all, I’d absolutely love any plots with fellow war veterans. Maybe someone that was in Margot’s battalion and knows Margot was Marcel. They could talk about their experiences and coping with the scars the conflict has left behind. Are they also turning to crime? Or cigarettes or sex or alcohol? Or are they smoothly transitioning into everyday life? Maybe someone that doesn’t know this detail and wonders why Margot is so morbidly curious in their war experiences. It would kill Margot on the inside- wanting to reveal herself as Marcel, but fearing no one would believe her, calling her delusional. Perhaps someone could question her decision to leave for Switzerland, not knowing she stayed behind and defended her country. It’d be quite interesting to explore Margot’s relationship with the war and how it left her with physical and mental scars (is my inner history nerd showing yet?).

Second, any and all plots related to Margot’s work as an assassin are welcomed. What I have in mind is someone who is perhaps a frequent client, someone corrupted and completely into the crime scene. Someone that could challenge Margot to melt away the icy attitude she has towards her job, who’d make her question the morality of her actions.

Third, I’d love for her to have some friends. Women and men that got under her skin, despite her self-reliant, but slightly distant attitude. She wouldn’t even realize it, but suddenly she harbors friendly feelings towards these people and it scares her. Yet she could realize how much she treasures them at the same time and wouldn’t want to let them go. Someone that brings out the free-spirited and energetic side of her would be appreciated, as well as a confidant she could trust with her life.

Finally, perhaps someone that could completely sweep her off her feet. She’s not one to fall in love, nor does she believe anyone would particularly fancy her, but this person could change that. It could even be a simple crush, Margot would definitely try to ignore her feelings, but never quite be able to bury them. But as I’ve said before, I’d love to interact with any and every character in-game. I’m open to any plots and connections for Margot!