@snapsbeast asked: “Was it the same as last time?”
empty eyes look down upon the creature in the reception room , wandering around the theatre halls . even he gets lost in these corridors sometimes -- the way they change , ever shifting , never settling . 𝗜𝗧'𝗦 𝗔 𝗪𝗢𝗡𝗗𝗘𝗥 𝗔𝗡𝗬𝗢𝗡𝗘 𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗦 𝗧𝗢 𝗪𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗘𝗥 𝗔𝗧 𝗔𝗟𝗟 . his gaze is coal black , and there’s little to suggest there’s anything going on behind them , but there’s a warm and welcoming smile on his painted lips that contradicts that empty stare . and his body language is open , expressive , there’s joy in his long - limbed movements as he strides into the room , twirling that cane of his off the floor and tucking it under his arm .
❛ that depends when the last time was . ❜ he admits , he has little knowledge of the way time flows beyond the walls of the theatre . it never quite seems to travel in one direction . the last time he looked out of the window there was ice , and now when he looks out of the window there is fire . bright lamps lining the streets . ❛ but the performances are never the same . ❜