crownless kids [kingston | day 1]

A throne carries tales; too many ghosts haunt a single seat.

Too many dreams held in front of a room where knights and peasants would discuss the future, the present, and the past. In this room, it's almost as if he could imagine a witch launching the doors open. A curse upon a kingdom where stone figures reside of the old populace. It's a scene he could vividly imagine, but there's nothing here. The stone throne covered in brambles and vines. The green having taken over. The fae out somewhere laugh at this scene.

For a moment, Kingston's hands drift over the seat where the plant life's been scattered by someone else. A brushing of the place. One of the tributes had moved the life here to sit down; the girls must've done so. Coming back to the scene of the crime was rule number one. Risky of him to come back, but he needed to ensure that he could see where people were. The emptiness meant that others hadn't come by recently. Or they were hunting which is the best outcome for him.

No cannons have fired. People must've been as scattered as he felt. He didn't want to linger. Instead, he sits down in the throne for just a moment. Just wanting to feel like he's on top of the world and in control for just a fraction of a second. "How did you feel? Was it everything or did it break you?" His words barely a whisper to the mural where a king's story is held. The insignia still plastered across his axe; only time will tell what'll happen to him. Right now, he didn't want to deal with any of this.