@sarkazsales || SPRINGTIME FESTIVAL STARTERS 1/3
Rarely, if ever, had he any desire to take part in such silly customs. The celebration of spring was admirable and mutually shared, but for what reason had this city decided to celebrate so loudly. The entire city felt akin to a chaotic battleground; already crowded streets grew larger, events were held in the most inconvenient of places, lights and sounds too harsh. Too much. He’d detested the idea of staying home, and even still, curiosity had him peeking about for that potential saving grace of a ceremony he could partake in.
In the end, he finds himself standing far behind the gathering of many, entranced by the large screen blaring some kind of play (they were called films, weren’t they?), projected in a seemingly magical way that made it oh so hard to walk away from. Who knows what’s been going on in this film. Half the words blasted hardly reached his ears - and what little had ran the risk of being misheard at best.
Oh woe is a King, trapped in a hell of his own making, standing like a bitter outcast with jealousy towards notable couples brewing beneath gilded wears.
Whether such an insult was directed towards mysterious persons or the film in question was better left unsaid. It’s not as though anyone would have heard him, right? Why - who in their right mind would approach his regal self when a blatant distraction is but a slight turn-of-the-head away...?