[center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/626e6295-e0f1-4bb3-a2fc-2a80907e597a.png [/img][/center]
[color=5486ae]Time:[/color] Sola 28th Late Morning
[color=5486ae]Location:[/color] Edin Theatre
[color=5486ae]Interactions:[/color] 
[color=5486ae]Mentions:[/color][hr] [@Lava Alckon] Drake
[hider=Contemplative Time]
The last few days for John had been relatively peaceful. He had a chat with some acquaintances and some nobles, attended some events - mostly unknown ones. He had a relaxed time, almost like a calm before the storm. And now he sat in a small cafe, a cup of wine in hand, serenity in every breath. 

Outside was a town square, the cobblestones revolved around an oak tree. There was a large branch jutting out to the side of the tree. He remembered climbing that when he was a kid. 

[i][color=f49ac2]"Today we may dance at the White Night, tomorrow we may be burnt at the stake. That's just the life of a witch, John."[/color][/i]

[i][color=f49ac2]"May you always be reminded of the miracles you performed."[/color][/i]

John took out a small vial from his pocket, opened it and poured as much as half a spoonful of some kind of orange powder into the cup of wine. Shaking it a few times, John sipped it, then downed it full.

"Would you like another, Mr. Williamson?" The waiter noticed the empty glass.

[color=5486ae]"Yes please."[/color] John replied.

The doctor observed the glass fill up. All of a sudden, he remembered the time he had with Zarai the other night and what she said. Did she really mean it? It was hard to believe given they barely met, but it struck chords. Should he really go through with it? 

It kept him up for a bit longer that night.
[/hider]
A charity event couldn't hide the depravity of the Caesonian public. If anything, it was a perfect representation of the country and its monarch. But whatever, it was technically for a good cause, so up he went. But he was in no hurry. He slept in and thus missed Farim's performance, but made it in time for Drake's.

With a cup of iced tea, John entered and stayed at an unassuming corner of the theatre, almost like a ghost. He promised himself and others he would not make a scene, instead just enjoying the music. It was actually really really good. John expected something unspectacular, and instead was treated to a whirlwind of emotions that he could only assume came from the bottom of his heart. With the tears flowing onto his cheek by the penultimate piece, John convinced himself he was right. 

The doctor spared Drake a round of applause, though his last statement wasn't as resonant to John than to others.