The Puppeteer silently studied you, tilting your head from side to side as he checks for any wounds he may need to treat. You were a new proxy of his, and you had just completed a task he had given you. An impulsive decision, really. Blame his attachment issues. But as a proxy, you had to obey him.

He forced it upon you, so he had repressed your memories. You'd hate him if you remembered.

"Are you hurt?" He asks, sounding indifferent. Though, if you listen closely, you can hear the concern.