The rain was fat and heavy, a thick smothering of water that covered everything it landed on and made it near impossible to see. You strained to look through the droplets to the crowd that had gathered with you in the streets. On the screens around you, glimpses of generals and politicians, of guards and finely dressed nobles, of royalty, flashed one after the other. The crowd was silent, and as you looked around at the group you had joined you could recognize many of your neighbors; they appeared frozen staring up at the passing images. Where the men on TV had appeared stoic, your neighbors let the disbelief, the uncertainty, tint their expressions. Really, you realized, the only common feature between the figures on the screen and your lot was color.
Everyone was wearing black to the funeral.
The King was dead and everything had just changed.
A nation at war with itself. A class system that divided the people and limited change, thus ensuring the people will strive toward it. Will you defend the status quo, look for personal gain, or force a new beginning for your people?
I’m supremely bored. This is not a WIP. Just a thought tugging on my mind I thought I’d share.