[Pacing the hallways with a Dressing Room pamphlet in one hand, murmuring to himself and looking... not confused, or even very unhappy about his arrival. Just mildly put-out about something.]
[He doesn't let go. Not in the least bit. Instead, he might tug the man a bit closer looking for signs of recent scarring. Pain pills are the only explanation his mind wants to go to. Perhaps he had a recent scuffle with one of those lovely horror halls.]
[No limping. No recently bandaged gashes. No bleeding. Well, large amounts of it. Scars on the wrist seem a bit older. Not as fresh as he is looking for. And not nearly severe enough to warrant that many pills.
His grip moves up a bit. Away from the other's hand to grab the bottle instead.] You don't need these.
[He drops the plate and the wine glass. It shatters as it hits the floor, and the liquid spreads around their shoes. He shifts to a form he's more comfortable with as he tries to prevent the other man from moving back. To gather up both his wrists and tug him forward.]
[After he spends another few seconds trying to pull his wrists from his double's grip, an unbalanced grin breaks through the haze of whatever he's feeling.]
As of now? I'm afraid I've gone utterly insane again.
[The halt of movements bothered him to no end, and if it weren't for the glare --- at least some sort of defiant reaction --- he probably would have punched the other man.
As it was, he let go of one hand and brought it up to catch the other's chin. An attempt to hold it steady to see if anyone really was at home in there.]
[Someone home? Not altogether, but he's there at least. A little fear, a little pain, a little anger, and a damn lot of confusion. After a moment he tries to look away, tilting his head back.]
Someone was looking to mess with the locals today.]
Mr. Mikk, your table is waiting. The Duchess is here to speak with you.
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...[An unimpressed look.] Why do you think?
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[He doesn't let go. Not in the least bit. Instead, he might tug the man a bit closer looking for signs of recent scarring. Pain pills are the only explanation his mind wants to go to. Perhaps he had a recent scuffle with one of those lovely horror halls.]
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[They're all different sorts, but there are pain pills in there as well.]
[At the refusal to let go, he takes a deep, shaky breath and closes his eyes, like he's waiting for something terrible to happen.]
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His grip moves up a bit. Away from the other's hand to grab the bottle instead.] You don't need these.
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I do if I... want to remain coherent for the rest of the week.
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Now, now, why would that be the case?
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Stop.
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What exactly are you afraid of? Come now, won't you tell me, Tyki Mikk?
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As of now? I'm afraid I've gone utterly insane again.
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[Not bothered by the grin, but not exactly thrilled to see it either. He keeps the grip unless the other removes it.]
Are you sure it isn't the assorted pills you are taking that is making you feel that way?
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[He's stopping his efforts-- just waiting for now. And there's a glare for Solo as well.]
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As it was, he let go of one hand and brought it up to catch the other's chin. An attempt to hold it steady to see if anyone really was at home in there.]
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...Looking for something in particular?
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Depends. Tell me, you said before you were insane. What exactly does that mean?
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Honestly. There's no set meaning. What would you gain from knowing exactly what goes on here?
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