The twice-born shapeshifter of revelry, a grieving Dionysus dances madly in the shadows. But beneath the dangers of the Limelight, our sweet god transforms, hollowing out his insides to produce a silent shell of safety: Mime. Look too close beyond the walls she builds, and a fearful Dionysus stands exposed, stuck between two doors. The immortal cannot escape the internal mortality of this mask. Our sacrificial lamb walks so that our scapegoat may find safety away from the fearful pointed fingers of the Limelight.