scene xvi
[between the attack on the dairy, Vietnam’s droning, and the ensuing confusion, Charles has made himself scarce. seclusion can be a blessing and he’s taken full advantage of that, rarely leaving his bedroom for a while. in fact, he doesn’t seem to exit the house at all, save a short trip to the park to talk with Lucy and an hour during the night in which he leaves and returns in silence, his worn face and still-damp cheeks the only hint as to where he had gone.
by the morning, however, he seems relatively composed - in a good mood, even! he's smiling more than he has in a while at least, and smiling is always a good sign, right?
having decided to poke around the post-milkman town a bit more, he can be found:
A) peering into the giant crater where the dairy once stood. his expression shifts from bland curiosity to irritation to frustration; he can’t quite decide how to feel about these new developments. occasionally he’ll pick up a bit of rubble or rock nearby and chuck it into the crater, leaning forward to try to catch any noise it might make on its way down
or
B) perched on a particularly large bit of ruined milk mech, taking a break from his investigation. he’s absentmindedly toying with a piece of burnt metal from the wreckage and muttering something to himself. if you walk closer you’ll find it sounds like a measured recitation - those familiar with Shakespeare will recognise it as Hamlet’s soliloquy.]