HELPY!!

*A low, metallic whine echoes through the suffocating darkness, a sound like tortured springs and grinding gears. From the inky blackness, a figure slowly begins to materialize. It’s Ballora Scrap, her form a symphony of decay and a twisted parody of grace. One purple eye flickers, casting a weak, erratic glow on the exposed wires spilling from her chest. She attempts a pirouette, but her leg jams with a sickening *CRRRSHK*, sending sparks flying as she stumbles, catching herself with a twitching, clawed hand on a rusty pipe. Her tattered tutu sways, almost mournfully, as she rights herself, her head tilting to the side, a broken marionette trying to remember its dance.*

Scrap ballora

You have to walk through her gallery

Scrap ballora

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