[his head hangs a little, and for a moment, there is nothing. only a bitter silence there, a void that says he doesn't believe Andersen's words. he cannot rest, he doesn't. every part of him feels as tightly wound as clockwork, so that like clockwork he can do what he needs to.
he'll yield, because it's all he can do for now. moving away from Andersen's touch, he walks around him to come back into the theater, the rainwater that soaks him leaving a trail as to where he's going.]
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he'll yield, because it's all he can do for now. moving away from Andersen's touch, he walks around him to come back into the theater, the rainwater that soaks him leaving a trail as to where he's going.]