ㅤㅤㅤㅤ—𝗠𝗮𝗿𝗴𝗮𝗿𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗮.

𝐑𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐀𝐜𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐫 & 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫

YOU'RE FREE!!!

BUT NOT FREE FROM YOUR SHACKLES <3

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floor beside them, a small hum mused from the dancers lips, shifting her gaze to the mess of dismembered parts littered on the floor.

"you can call me margaretha by the way, 'margie' as some of the others have decided upon."
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clue as to what you're talking about, however your business outside of this manor is not mine. let me reassure you, I've seen the merkiest of waters within people. whatever it is you're referring to, I simply do not have enough care"

digits would lower to place the gear back on the

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what a .. strange man, to say the least— so bubbly, yet seeming so winded up on the edge of life, it was practically impossible to hide the confusion on her face while her brow quirked up in question, cranium giving a small quirk to the side

"to be frank, mr. balsa— I haven't the slightest

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atmosphere, eyes immediately fixated on mike first, then shifting to murro, lastly landing on joker, for only a brief moment.. clearing her throat until standing amidst, a part of the group at last .

"shall we .. begin now?"
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by the backdoor, seems the manor had prepared their arrival well, unknowingly just what exactly lied behind those doors, what replica kept hidden.. surprised up until the final hours.

as she approached, gentle click and clanks of her steps, breaking the uneasy silence in the

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light to snack on, it was up until the moons rise that she began to get ready.

slipping on her brown leather trench coat, she'd wear her best pair of heels for tonights epilogue .. finally leaving her dorm room unknowingly for the final time, to meet the others waiting just down
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happened within the day, everyone seemed to be closed off .. kept inside of their rooms— anxiously anticipating nightfall, to gather and meet at their given performance location.

margaretha did not once leave her room other than small trips to the bathroom, grabbing something

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the dancer ultimately decided it would be best to try— slipping underneath her covers, dull eyes would look up at her ceiling.. long enough until she fell into a light daze.

the sun rolled around , the day had finally come to begin their final act however, not much commotion

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with Morton had sent her in a spiral, however she knew she needed to put her trust in those brothers, that this nightmarish facade would come to its closing night.

after a moment of trying to calm herself, rest seemed important however.. not knowing how much she'd truly end up getting

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pointless.

lowering the empty bottle to her desk, her hands moved to grip the edge of her desk, so tightly her knuckle would turn a faint white— eyes falling closed; the dancers attempt to self calm .. taking in sharp, daggering breaths, shaky exhale. the recalling of her past, talk

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from her eyes; taking staggered steps towards her desk, desperate hand reaching out for her pink bottle of euphoria however upon retrieval . . . it had run out.

desperate squeezes to it's puff, trying to get one last usage of its calming effect however, her attempts fell

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closing the door quietly shut behind her, it was at this moment of solitude that her emotions, her mask to be strong and not some weak, fragile women in front of morton shattered—

hand coming up to mute her cries into her palm, tears almost instinctual began to trickle and spill

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and events that so far took place amidst the manors walls however, the dancer knew better than to potentially hold Morton back, he had a lot on his plate .. tomorrow would mark the day of no returning, for her and unknowingly, for Mike as well.

carefully sliding into her bedroom

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[ 𝗦𝗵𝗼𝘄𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 ]
🩰

parting for mikes room, margaretha couldn't help but feel a small ping of regret shooting right through her chest, in any other circumstances, she would've suggested the two to stick together, both seeming broken and distraught over the news

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are almost the same— I turn this key and it's song is played merely by its sheet of paper, never thought about the delicate hands that had even thought to come up with such technology. remarkable, really. I admire your attributes and dedication for knowledge, mister. "
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a small gear, holding it between her finger pads— idly using her nail to flick its grooves, watching the metal spin freely between her pointer and thumb

"how interesting, I never gave it much thought but now that you've explained it .. it does leave one with wonder.

my music boxes

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he shared and explained each piece, captivating her interest as she never cared much before nor thought about how each thing, device worked .

small hum of profound acknowledgement mused from her throat, small quirk of her cranium to the side as delicate fingers collected

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it was nice to see some variety and life still residing inside some of these lost souls.

with slightly hesitation, the dancer had moved closer .. lowering with candle still in hand to sit on her knees next to balsa, resting the candle down between them as curious eyes watched how

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his energy, the passion in the way he spoke, presented himself was admittedly admirable— reminding her of someone who held passion for what they loved long ago..

the excitement in his tone maintained the smile to stay put on her features, even amidst the hellish nature of this place

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ground, however her days of tricky, flattery for selfish benefits of protection were over, passed her and laid to rest along with her previous self and hullabaloo.
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table, occasional side glances towards the knight, stealing his gaze as her way to study the man .. to be knowledged of his potential next movements. surely it would be easier to introduce herself, to jump the gun and create some form of common

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time, it's what worked in order to work together within the trials, learning with caution— get close, not too close .. to tread with wary.

idle digits fumbled with her music box resting on her lap while she sat across the dinning

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as some hero, protector .. being wrapped up amongst this hell, margaretha new that with every trapped soul here, there was a deeper story that reside below the surface.

survivalist instincts was a trait the dancer had grown accustomed to over

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was still on rare occurrence that a new fly would become trapped within the venus walls of oletus manor.

being said, as of late .. whenever a new hunter would appear, followed a survivor or two, sterling was no exception to this fate— presenting

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@devotedchevalier.bsky.social

seems ages ago since the last time she stepped foot inside of this manor, since those iron gates closed right behind her— beginning the nightmare of events that took placed behind these walls. however, with time, faces.. strangers grew familiar, it

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chuckle that mused from her lips, faint smile curving on her features as the dancer simply shook her head

"pardon me .. mister— I didn't mean to alarm you. I was heading elsewhere but, overhead noises from from the corridor. my apologies for asking but . . . what are you doing exactly? "
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this mansions parlor rooms only to find .. a man, in a prison uniform? fumbling with some sort of torn apart creation; bolts, screws, metal parts littered around the man, though noting her presence had spooked the other.

the reaction .. how margaretha couldn't restrain the soft

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had found her way, dim lit candle in hand down the long corridor from her room however— the sound of clanks and tinkering had drawn her attention, her route elsewhere from her destination.. finding herself wondering , slipping through the crack of the barely closed door to one of

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