#vergcr

             With a rather interested expression, Mischa Jacqueline studied the            man standing before her. To her, he seemed to be a bit shocked by            the sight of her. But why? This she wanted to know, though bluntly            asking would not be terribly polite.

[00:26:37] sam: much mason. very verger

[00:26:43] foxy grandpa: did you just dOGE

[00:26:56] sam: well someone has to, he killed the doge

[00:27:02] foxy grandpa: GPD

foxy grandpa: he once got bitchslapped so hard his sight was ashamed and left

foxy grandpa: that's it

■╪■ "You got a light, love?"

Safety was a myth invented to make people feel a little better about the state of the world – it was nothing more than a slight relief to know that you were protected from the horrors that other people experienced. Margot Verger knew this. Or, at least, she believed it.

     There was no feeling of safety that other people would experience by staying within the walls of their home for the youngest Verger sibling. Her father and her brother made a lethal combination that made her feel that she was safer going out into the streets of a crowded city or walking down lone, dark alleyways at night, rather than being at home. It was lucky for her that Muskrat Farm was such a large property; finding something to do away from prying eyes (perhaps, at times, with the exception of the staff, who posed no kind of threat) was easy enough. Some hours of peace was all she needed.

     The peace was gone soon enough as Margot returned to her room. She knew of her brother’s habit of giving her no privacy whatsoever, but she had never hoped to find him going through journals and planners that she had tried to keep so well hidden. It seemed she would just have to try harder.

                   ❝ Trick or treat, mister! ❞                   She's aware it's far too early                   but she doesn't care; trick or                   treating was her favorite thing                   to do.