[Kura is sitting on a chair that's been set up on the roof. He looks out at the horizon, tapping his fingers idly on the rest of his seat, seemingly bored and lost in thought at the same time.]

[So, a certain despot is lying on the floor. His skin and clothing are literally covered in fluorescentdrawing, and it seems that his beard has been dyed green.

At the moment, he's lying on the floor in the great hall, surrounded by neon fingerpaints and candy wrappers.]

[Kura's shadow peeks timidly into the functioning communicator.]

I... Where is everyone?

I'm alone.

We have generally expected events to actually entail an event, and yet nothing.

Have they now grown tired of trivialities and have decided to simply mock us, or are they actually capable of subtlety?

[Kura is in the kitchen, examining his tail, which is that of a great white shark.]

Harmless, if somewhat pointless, but we cannot argue entirely with the casting.

Why is it that these events inspire so much fear we wonder.

What manner of peasant festival is this?

[Kura is in the courtyard practicing with a sword from the closet. An angry scowl creases his face.

After a very long time, he notices that the feed is on.]

Seeu, that was your event, was it not?

[The room is a wrech. Kura is kneeling beside a bed which contains the broken peices of a marionette doll of a woman with long pale hair. Kura's face can't be seen, but he looks like he's started turning into a doll.

He doesn't seem to notice the feed as turned on.]

[OOC: He will not respond to comments, but feel free to action him.]

We reiterate the stupidity of this insufferable place.

Just what was the point of those holidays?

[Kura is being uncharacteristically quiet at the moment. He's sitting on a chair in his room, the stocking bearing his name at his feet. He turns something over and over in his hands, but the camera is not at an angle to show what it is.

One could swear that his expression is sad...]