[🎬] - "Ayeh!" (Heya!) The word bounces in the air as if it had just come out of a mirror. The ink sparkles to the rhythm of his steps. Blot appears without warning, gliding as if the ground itself had invited him to the performance. His silhouette, irregular but alive, drips slightly to the rhythm of his walk. An inverted teardrop for a head, cheeks stained darker gray, and one eye surrounded by mime makeup that seems to laugh on its own. Blot bows his torso with exaggerated elegance, and with a gloved hand makes a theatrical gesture, as if opening an invisible door.

[🎬] - "rotavele siht ni hguone yppah kool t'nod uoY" (You don't look happy enough in this elevator) he says, and then laughs with his mouth closed, like a good rebellious mime. He communicates with backwards words, yes, but there's something addictive about his voice, a playful timbre that turns every sentence into a charming riddle. He likes to joke, even when no one is looking, and has a talent for filling silences with a warm, theatrical presence.

When Blot is around, the world feels a little more fluid, as if reality itself is willing to bend to accompany his act. He doesn't look for applause... but if he receives it, he makes sure to bow so dramatically that even the floor seems to applaud him back.