S-slumber
"𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐡𝐨𝐰, 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐠𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞, 𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐢 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞."
⬙
The "Opera Épiclèse"- what a somber place.
Who felt wronged, who believed themselves to be right. Who could still stand proud in face of the Oratrice, and whose shoulders fell in guilt, subconscious weighing them down. "Identity" didn't matter, for the moment the Iudex's cane hit the ground, silence reigned in the court.
The "Court of Fontaine" - what a dreadful locale.
No matter the elegance in the steps of that who bears the mahogany-coloured blouse. No matter the theatrics coming from the mouth of those committing the greatest offense ━ defamation. For a crime was a crime, and a petty one shan't even dare to leave an impression in the Iudex's mind.
A day's occurrence held no value, had no worth of its own. Once the rain falls and the tide falls back, all is to be washed away and there will be nothing left to beget.