[ Gustave tips his head, eyebrows and shoulders both pushing up as he shrugs, even that small motion sending a ripple of discomfort through his battered body. But it's clear enough what he means: what choice do I have?
At least there's someone here from home, even if it's no one he's ever seen before.
He folds his arms over his chest, but not before gesturing to the next platform, not unlike an usher politely guiding a theatre patron to their seat. ]
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At least there's someone here from home, even if it's no one he's ever seen before.
He folds his arms over his chest, but not before gesturing to the next platform, not unlike an usher politely guiding a theatre patron to their seat. ]
After you.