A Sense Of Similarity | Open
When he first heard about the masquerade ball, Joseph almost sneered, thinking anybody would be a fool to reveal a dark secret just to pass the entrance. Yet here he was, standing under the already-dimmed lights with a mask on the face, looking around to see that not many people had already turned up just yet.
He still remembered the last time he attended a quite similar event like this, vividly, and to his very unpleasantness, it didn't exactly go with the plans. Joseph thought it might be a great opportunity to learn the most accurate information about that period, yet after he set foot in the great hall, it turned out that actually there weren't any tremendous changes from any other decades. People were still utterly hypocritical with the most fancy words they didn't really mean, and he was tired of all that so many years ago.
With a slight hint of bitter smirk at the corner of his mouth, Joseph walked down the hallway before picking up a glass of champagne from one of the tables in the ballroom. The soft music was playing, the guests were whispering, yet the only thing that could provide him a sense of similarity, was the icy alcohol running down his throat - at least he didn't make his appearance for absolutely nothing.