Here are the sparknotes you need to get to know: Margot Hawthorne
or the full bio if you’re interested.
The Basics
Margot is almost always on the defensive. Don’t take it personally, she won’t either
She comes from a long line of Very Important Seraphs so you probably have heard of a Hawthorne or two.
Has a grey moral compass. There is no good or evil, there is annoying to her personally and beneficial to her.
Weapon of choice is daggers.
Even though she doesn’t enjoy being a seraph, she finds in a necessary evil. She does make sure to take her training seriously, however, if not for the agency, for her own safety.
A Little Deeper
Margot and was pretty well indoctrinated into the agency in her teens, but once she hit her mid twenties she started to actively work against the agency once she became disillusioned
Working against the agency is less about justice for her and more about her annoyance towards the attitudes a lot of seraphs seem to have. Though she does hold herself in high esteem, she doesn’t see herself as above other people just because she’s a seraph and they’re not. She sees herself as above them because of who she is. Therefore, she doesn’t believe other seraphs should hold themselves higher than your average werewolf.
Working as both a seraph and a web developer, Margot has a full schedule, often taking on cons with Ainsley and the rest of the crew. Though she’s usually only helping behind the screen, she has been known to step in if they ever need a helping hand.
Here’s where you come in:
At work: Pretty cut and dry, if you’re a dedicated seraph who loves their job and acts like a supernatural cop? Y’all aren’t talking after hours. Slack off, let things slide or actively derail agency protocol? Let’s talk.
Trouble Calls: If your character has ever run into trouble with seraphs and Margot felt it wasn’t actually something worth noting, she would delete the files related to the case. You’re welcome. Alternately she could have caught you slipping on duty and had to turn you in. Up to you, bud!
Past flames: Listen Margot is not super choosy. If she’s bored and your character was there? Why not. But just because she spends a night with some one that doesn’t mean she’ll open up to them.
Rookie dreams: when Margot was younger she was still really hoping to make her way in the agency and find her purpose. It’s possible that she made a close connection with her partner from her rookie years, but the relationship is likely strained now.
Burnt bridges: With her family being who they are, Margot gets away with more than most. There is a likely chance that Margot has crossed your character’s boundaries and then instead of apologizing, blew that bridge up.
Friends: It’s not super likely, but she does have a few. Acquaintances though, she’s got those. And even more than that, she loves connections.
“Who says this is my first time?” Liv let out a low whistle at the thought, peaking up at Margot from where she was finishing lacing up her skates with as innocent of a smile as she could muster. She was actually half tempted to lie and say that it was just so that she could cling onto Margot the entire time they went around the park, but she also had a feeling Margot would figure it out eventually.
Who knew working at a carhop when she was 16 at one of the many fly over states her dad and her had been laying low in would pay off right about now? At least she wouldn’t awkwardly be face planting or falling over any time soon, even if she’d have to come up with a different excuse for the pair of them to be able to cling onto one another. “But, on second thought, I’d love a hand, Hawthorne. Or maybe an arm or two? Actually, now that I think about it, you probably should just hold onto me, just like this the entire time, just to be safe?” Liv found herself teasing as she moved to wrap Margot’s arms tightly around her waist as she slowly began to skate them backwards, moving them away from the bench and back onto that of the path.
-ˋˏ ✂︎—————
Margot’s focus split, unable to tell if she should be more disappointed she wouldn’t be able to lead Liv around the rink carefully hand in hand or the innuendo that was currently short circuiting her brain. But any worries about not being able to hold Liv were quickly washed away as Liv herself placed herself in Margot’s arms. Before moving them backwards. Margot let out an incredulous laugh as the pair started to move in sync. “Something tells me you don’t need the training wheels,” she said with a smile. Liv always found new ways to surprise and impress her, she felt like she’d never live a day without figuring out something new and intriguing about this woman, and if that day ever came she would just be happy to know her so completely. “Alright alright, I was being presumptuous,” she said before pulling Liv in a bit tighter. “But goodness, I really don’t want to see your hurt so I’m finding it hard to let go,” she teased before pulling back again. She offered her hand instead so they could move a bit more freely.
CLOSED: for @swearonstars (Liv Cromwell)
LOCATION: Roller Rocket’s Roller Rink
Margot was glad she’d thought to bring her own skates to the event today, along with a backup pair for Liv, there was no way she was sticking her feet in rented skates and contracting athletes foot. There had been a boom in roller skating about a year ago and she’d bought into the craze for a few months and bought all the gear, but they’d been gathering dust since then. Once she finished lacing up her skates, she stood and did a quick circle around the bench where Liv was lacing her own skates up. “Almost ready there, Cromwell? I can hold you if you need help getting up, it can be a little hard to balance the first few times.”
A nod was sent her way in a silent thanks as he took the drink from her, “Odd, you didn’t get a lame pun joke that I usually get from them,” he commented while taking a sip, though he kept her getting the wrong blood type to himself, his preferred was B- but knew the eyeroll that would arise if he were to disclose that information. “Isn’t that cheating?” he asked as they walked towards the art booth, “Buying your friend’s so it seems they’re in demand? What if it’s bad? I rather not have shit art on my walls, thanks.”
-ˋˏ ✂︎—————
“Well I did, but I thought I’d save you from hearing, ‘Hope these drinks knock ya dead! Might be too late for that though!’” Margot parroted, annoyingly friendly customer service voice and all. “But I didn’t know you enjoyed that part of the service, I’ll be sure to let your favorite barista know,” she said with a smirk as they started walking. “It’s not cheating, all of the money is literally going to charity. It’s a tax write off and the bonus is that Liv’s art is actually good. She’s a resident artist at Art in Motion you uncultured swine. If you weren’t already dead I’d stake you for even insinuating I have bad taste.” And also for even thinking Liv could be a bad artist. She had to admit it hurt her pride a little. Margot had very good taste in both art and women, thank you very much. “Come on, I’ll show you. I know how much you love being proven wrong, Ken Doll.”
Arthur pouted before leaning away with a groan of agreement. “God, don’t even start with the furniture. Anything but that.” While Arthur was something of a pistol packing gunslinger themselves, they could not understand their father’s fondness for leather seating of all things. One custom leather loveseat was fine. Twelve was excessive. “Birkin, Prada: Tomato, Tomata. I would listen to the ‘curiosity demons’ and bid if I could. Those who have already submitted a basket can’t bid for one. No matter how curious I am, its impossible for anyone to be in two outings at once. Bid as you please but that basket’s stealing our show. Whoever gets their hands on it is gonna be the real Belle of the Ball. Gonna leave this please on helicopter with Prince/Princess Charming.” They squinted at their sister, watching for a reaction. “Whoever that may be.” After years of watching her play with different relationships like they were hotcakes, it was obvious when Margot had her eye on someone. As for who that someone was this time? That was the real mystery. “Think about it. That Belle of the Ball could be Margot Hawthorne.”
-ˋˏ ✂︎—————
Margot grimaced, but she had been the one to bring up the furniture. Her brows rose at the mention of his basket, though he’d mentioned it in passing before, she hadn’t thought he was serious. “Wait, you actually entered one? This the only way you could get someone to go on a date with you?” Margot asked, her face schooled into one of pity. “And my show isn’t one that can be stolen Arthur, it’s inherent,” she rolled her eyes, but she was going to win that basket if it killed her. Or her father when he saw the bill and had a heart attack. “Luckily for you, I am going to win that basket, but not for you and your weird obsession. Are you really just upset that your basket doesn’t compare, perhaps? Sad that you won’t be the belle of the ball so you’re trying to live vicariously through me? That’s tragic, Arthur.”
CLOSED: for @kenxmatsui
LOCATION: Art in Motion Booth
Ice sloshed around in the plastic cup Margot thrusted into Ken’s hand. “Here, straight from the Crypt Cart or whatever,” she said as she took a sip from her own cup, full of coffee only, no O+ like Ken’s. She plucked the heart-shaped sunglasses from her nose to push her hair back, leaving them to sit at the crown of her head. “Now that we’re all hydrated, lets go buy some art. Liv is selling some this time around and I want to make sure she sells out.”
It was common knowledge that if anyone invited the Hawthorne family to a public outing, they were bound to at some point gather and whisper amongst themselves. Perhaps it was an inherited habit from the days of high aristocracy or just a shared taste for pettiness. Nonetheless, here comes Arthur Hawthorne, leaning into their sister’s side with a hand shielding their mouth in mischievous secrecy. “I know I’ve never advocated for your grandiose spending habits but today’s the exception, Margot. Spare no expense, spend to your heart’s content, listen to the little Gucci Prada devil on your shoulder and nab Basket 16.” Did there happen to be a very expensive Hermes bag in Basket 16? Yes. However, the bag wasn’t Arthur’s central focus. “I am dying to know which one of these people blew thousands of dollars on their basket and a private show. From a secret celebrity no less! Like- WHO?”
Margot slapped at her brother’s shoulder to get them to stop whispering into her ear, so uncouth. “It’s a secret bid Arthur. And the more money I spend on myself, the less father can spend on useless guns and leather furniture,” she said with a shudder. Though Margot’s approach was usually to use small inconspicuous daggers, their father liked to make more of a boom when it came to “enforcing the accords.” Among other things. “And it’s a Birkin, you brute, not Prada or Gucci. You can tell by how ugly it is. If you’re so curious about it though, why don’t you bid on it? You have the same access to the Hawthorne account as I do. Listen to your own curiosity demons.”
CLOSED: for @arthur-m-hawthorne
LOCATION: The Dusty Hawthorne Family Home Attic That Will Absolutely Destroy Margot’s Clothes If She’s Not Careful
Few things past the universe itself could sway Margot from her intended path in life, or her intended plans for the day. The first, was Liv Cromwell, a bat of the eyes and slight pout and Margot’s plans for the day were all but doomed, though she’d be happy to move heaven and Earth if Liv asked for it. The second, loathe as she was to admit, was her family. Though her siblings were rarely the type to demand things of her, her parents were another story. Perhaps it was a byproduct of being allowed to fly under the radar for so long while they poured all their hopes, dreams, and expectations into their eldest child. Now that the golden child had fallen from grace, in their eyes at least, the younger two siblings were now being prodded into toeing the line. At the slightest sign of the Hawthorne perfection being tarnished the troops were gathered and their tasks assigned. That’s what she told herself as she climbed into the family home’s attic to find her eldest sibling with their favorite meal in hand. Apparently he’d holed himself up in here recently, “He’s barely seen sunlight in days, I have half a mind to check if he’s been turned into one of those leeches,” their mother had bemoaned, her lips pulled up into a grimace.
As Margot took in the sight of the dusty attic, Arthur up to their arms in brittle and yellowed documents, she instantly recognized what was going on. A loud groan fell from her mouth as she placed a paper bag on the desk in front of Arthur. This was his studying hermit mode, but this was a bit more extreme than she remembered when he was cramming for an exam or reading up on new supernatural physiology reports that had come in. It was definitely more annoying. “The way Mother tells it you’re a breath away from tearing down yellow wallpaper. I take it there’s something new and absolutely boring that you’re hyper-fixating on now?”
“No, no, no. My character didn’t have amnesia. She went into a coma after the crash and underwent extreme plastic surgery which caused her to wake up with a nearly identical face to that of her younger sister’s and I really don’t know what happens after that. I stopped watching after I was so abruptly written off,” Meena explained with a huff as she held her hand up over her face in embarrassment as if shield her gaze from that of the Café’s TV that was currently playing reruns of the old soap she used to be on. “Now, can we maybe get out of here or at least change the subject to something a little less embarrassing?”
Margot’s sharp grin finally broke through her innocent expression before she started to cackle. “Oh come on, Meena, it’s not like you were a cliché evil twin or anything. You really got out of there before the writers let the plot get even more convoluted.” She took a small sip of her espresso and grinned over the rim of the mug, “But really, I do love how dedicated you are to the craft, taking only the best roles, truly a committed actress.” She giggled before sinking further into her chair and hoping Meena didn’t throw anything at her.
She didn’t know the girl’s name, that was fair. She’d like to, most certainly, but she didn’t seem too willing to give it up at the moment. Rose watched the menu slip from the corner of her eye and slowly lowered the knife to the table. With her hand now free, she moved it to the edge of the menu and pushed it back up so it was still fully covering her fellow redhead.
“I’m eating pizza with utensils because I refuse to get my hands dirty with the grease. I would recommend it sometime. It is also rather handy to have a knife nearby, just in case.” Rose let her hand fall back to the table, but remained close to the stranger. From what she could tell, she was human. Cute. Not vulnerable, however. “Tell me again,” Rose asked “Who are you hiding from?”
-ˋˏ ✂︎—————
Margot lifted the cloth napkin that was folded on the table and handed it to the other woman. “I hear these help with that particular affliction,” she said with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “A butterknife, however isn’t my first choice with knives,” Margot said conversationally, as though she were discussing clothes rather than weapons, “I prefer daggers.” Her fingers tapped on the one that was neatly tucked to her thigh under her dress. “It was an ex,” she deadpanned, leaving no room for expansion on that particular topic. “But I’m much more interested in your name now.”
“Why? I’ll be fine,” Liv attempted to reason with the other. Her bottom lip jutting out into a pout of her own as she stood there, not quite sure what the big deal was, but then again, no one had ever exactly given a shit about where she had been living before. If they did, she probably wouldn’t have ended up on the streets the first time around. “No? Why would I tell Ainsley?” She scrunched up her brows in confusion. “And no. I only really crash on one person’s couch,” She mumbled under her breath. The couch in question being Margot’s of course, at least when she wasn’t injured or cross with her that is. But, now, crashing on Margot’s couch seemed to be the farthest thing from Liv’s mind. Her bottom lip, instead, quivering at the thought that she had done it this time. Margot wouldn’t even look at her and, given the way things had gone down in the hospital, being practically forced by Margot’s parents to hand her over, she couldn’t help, but wonder if that was maybe for the best? “It’s no big deal. I just need to find a new place is all. I mean you’re talking to the girl who literally spent over twenty plus years living in motels? So, what’s a month or so more, while I’m figuring it out? And I know. But, I can’t ask you for that? Because you’re not just decoration. You’re my- you’re one of my people. I wouldn’t want you to think I only hang about cause of how nice your place is or to mooch off of you. And are we? Because as far as the hospital was concerned and your family, I’m more of an inconvenience to you than anything else. And I don’t know? I figured you probably would, but you also just recovered from being nearly-” Liv’s voice choking up at the thought of the state she had found Margot in. The anger and grief washing over her once more in waves. “You almost died, Margot. I’ve been in between homes my entire life, but you- we almost lost you.”
-ˋˏ ✂︎—————
Even though telling Ainsley would have at least been a safer option than not telling anyone, Margot couldn’t help the pang of satisfaction that at least Liv hadn’t gone to their other friend first. “Because we’re your friends? Because we should probably know if our friend is getting kicked out and doesn’t have time to find a new place to live?” Even though she hadn’t told Liv the extent of how she felt about her, she was still a good friend to her, wasn’t she? Was there some way Margot hadn’t been able to provide her a safe harbor, something that made her doubt just how far Margot was willing to go for her? Rent was nothing, a place to stay was nothing, a house was nothing, Margot would give Liv every last penny she had, the shirt off her back, if it would erase her doubts.
“It’s a big deal to me. I want to know where you are, Liv. I want to know that you’re safe, that you feel secure. You’ve lived in motels all your life because you had to, and I understand that you were used to that, but you don’t have to keep doing that.” Margot’s chest heaved as she huffed out a breath, aggravated and worried all at once. "Don’t you think I know you better than that? I don’t give people like that the time of day, can you at least give me credit for knowing you?” It wasn’t hard to spot people who only wanted to be around her for her money or connections or her family or even access to her brothers. Margot was rarely fooled for long, and she’d shaken off leaches more times than she’d like to admit, but Liv had never been anything like that. Sure, she’d appreciate Margot’s generosity but she’d never pushed for it, never made it seem like she liked her money or apartment or access more than she liked Margot. Liv appreciated Margot’s time, her company. She couldn’t say the same for a lot of other people in her life, including her family.
“You’re family to me,” Margot said, finally looking Liv directly in her eyes and god, she was done for. Her teeth clenched as she took in Liv’s dejected face, hurt and angry and fierce. “My relatives and a goddamn hospital have no fucking say in what I consider mine.” The harshness of her voice surprised even her, but an inconvenience? This girl who meant more to her than people she’d known for most of her life? Liv’s presence pulled her closer, like a puppet on strings, her hands reaching up to cup Liv’s face. “I’m here. I’m here, and I’m not letting anything take me away from you, you got it? Some lunatic vampire chewed up my arm and my holier than thou family threw a fit and acted like I was on the brink of death, and I didn’t even get to see you nurse back to health in a cute nurse costume,” she said, hoping to at least lighten the mood a little bit. “And I’m not going to let any of that stop me. So just come home with me. Stay with me, and let me show you how much you mean to me. I don’t want you to doubt how important you are to me ever again.”
Logan started at the milkshake menu as she nibbled on a bag of candy, figuring if she couldn’t solve all of her problems in an instant that she could at least eat them. Plus even if it didn’t solve anything, it was making her feel better for the moment. “Okay I can’t decide. Which one do you think is better?” She asked looking at the red head next to her. “I need something that can basically void all the emotions I’m feeling.” While she knew that wasn’t quite on the board the least she could was attempt to burry it all.
Margot looked up from her phone to raise her brows at Logan. Her eyes narrowed as she scanned the menu. Of course she would be going with a classic strawberry milkshake, cherry on top and all, but Logan here needed something a little different. “You’re going to need alcohol for that,” she said, passing back the menu. “Maybe they can toss some Bailey’s into a coffee milkshake.” Margot’s eyes went back to her phone, where Liv still hadn’t replied to her most recent text; a photo of Logan sulking in the ice cream shop. “On second thought maybe we should both get one.”
Evie would have rolled her eyes at the assumption if it had been anyone else, but it wasn’t like she was strapped for cash and it seemed Margot needed the cover for something - despite her usual insistence to keep their outside lives private, she couldn’t help her curiosity. “Which one is he? Don’t worry, I won’t out you.” She also wouldn’t ask why Margot was hiding, if Evie was honest she didn’t care outside of her own nosiness. “What do you want then? And a coffee? Catch me up on things on your side of the tracks so to speak?”
-ˋˏ ✂︎—————
Margot weighed her options, if she pointed out the actual mark, which could trace back to Ainsley, it could cause trouble, no matter how uninterested Evangelina seemed. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” she said, cringing. “Let’s just say it was against my better, usually flawless, judgement.” She was relieved when the topic seemed to shift to food and business. “What did you get? Maybe I’ll follow your lead-- just this once.”
“If I make it at home it won’t taste as good because I’d have to had cut up hotdogs for my kid.” Ivy hugged before biting into a garlic breadsticks. “I feel like it’d be nice to know what real spaghetti is supposed to taste like, right?”
-ˋˏ ✂︎—————
Margot rose a brow, she hadn’t factored in kids. “You make a fair point,” she said with a nod. Though she did wonder why the woman didn’t just make half with hot dogs and half without, she wasn’t going to question her a second time. After all, everyone deserved a night out on their own to eat spaghetti or whatnot. “Well I hope it lives up to the hype of hotdog-less spaghetti.” For a moment she forgot about the reason why she was hiding and promptly hiked the menu back up to her face before peeking around to get another look at the man across the restaurant. “I should be out of your hair soon,” she promised as she watched him signing his bill.
Her pizza was the only thing keeping Rose sane at the moment, and yet there somebody was, sliding into her booth. Rose spun over to look, knife very strongly held in her hand. Not that she would stab anyone… in a diner. Instead she swung around to see the same red-headed girl she’d met once before, it not for a short period of time.
“I certainly do not come here for the ravioli. There is no way to look cute and eat ravioli.” Rose slowly lowered the knife and leaned back to better look at her new dinner guest. “So tell me about this ex, or I’ll make that menu disappear and call your name to the whole place.”
-ˋˏ ✂︎—————
Margot looked between the knife and the pizza, “Are you eating a pizza with utensils like a senior citizen to look cute?” she asked with a raised brow. She didn’t take too kindly to threats, even if she was in a slightly lower position of power. “Do you even know my name?” Margot challenged, letting her wrist flop, the menu slipping lower, as though she hadn’t given it a second thought. She’d expose herself before letting this one think she had the upper-hand.
“That’s fair.” Selene remarked with a shrug, she knew her appearance from then to now was rather strikingly different.
“What?” Selene questioned at Margot’s words. It was unlike her of all people to actually drink from a human especially with her ripper tendencies. Then it clicked, two days before. “Wait-” Selene called. Using her vampire speed to catch up with Margot. “It wasn’t me! I can’t feed from humans. I never have been able to.” She explained. “I’m a ripper, it’s why I have an animal blood based diet.” She rambled on. “I have a twin and it was her. I promise you I spent the weekend in a cell. I never came out once, she pretended to be me the whole time. She does this.” Selene explained despite knowing how crazy she sounded. “I know this sounds like a lie, but I promise you I have a twin who has a habit of pretending to me. If you don’t believe me look into the seraph games and the incident that happened there. Alina Khan is a wanted criminal and we have the same exact face.”
-ˋˏ ✂︎—————
Margot knew she wouldn’t actually be able to out fast-walk the vampire, but she had hoped that Selene would have the social grace to let her stomp away in peace. “You have an evil twin,” Margot deadpanned. “Are you sure you’re not talking about some daytime soap? Or a fantasy movie?” But it did give her some pause, something scratching at the back of her brain in seraph training about the original vampires and the wars. Maybe she should have paid more attention. She huffed out a sigh and rolled her eyes. “Fine, I’ll look into it,” she said, still not accepting the apology Selene had originally offered when she wasn’t sure she was telling the truth. “Can I go to my brunch now? Or are you actually going to accost me the rest of the way?”
