JDH

The lighting was dim, the smell of rusty oil hung in the air. DDH was speechless and stern. His cheerful nature was hidden under a mask of indifference. His hair, slightly stained with oil, was stuck together, hiding its natural color. The dark-haired automoton, slowly
warming himself with a cup of freshly brewed tea, not yet aware of his own importance to this reality. Soft steps through the house, the creak of floorboards.

"Oh, how imperfect," DDH's voice sounded with a slight mockery, ironically mocking the melancholy hanging over the room, while the gaze was directed at the future creation, "simply what a nightmare!"

Soon the grin disappeared and John frowned, correcting his own oversight and the slightest miscalculations, looking at his automaton with reproach, he would still have time to disappoint him before his plan was fully realized. The sanguine type of temperament skillfully covered up with false timidity, Harris has the opportunity to show his greatness to a wayward mind, but wouldn't it be better to have a minimal chance to prove his genius.

:3