Sindria was a hive of activity. With a festival being prepared for the evening, many of the islanders were busy putting the last preparations to order. He had made it his duty to clear the backlog in order to have a window for everyone to enjoy the night; what a challenge it would be. Pacing through the parliamentary quarters, the palace, the corridors, all in search of a laid-back monarch who was most likely ignoring some of the more important matters regarding his kingly responsibilities
It wasn’t like he didn’t like the festivities; actually, he rather enjoyed them. But these events could not be taken so lightly. With the king out in the open, in public (and will most likely end up drunk), he knew all too well the possibility of an attempted assassination or attack. Even if the Sin was more than capable of looking after himself, he would not give anyone the chance to harm him, or any of the others. If he could not do it, he wouldn’t allow another to, he owed them that much.
He arrived at Sin’s office, a scrolls gathered in one arm, the other knocking briskly on the thick wooden doors before entering. Please let him be done, please.
"Sin? The celebrations will commence in a while, are you prepared?—"
No response. Glorious.
"Sinbad, please, we certainly do not have a luxury of time to waste carelessly, nobody would like if you're late."
He waited a moment, one more, before taking it upon himself to enter the king’s quarters. It wasn’t a matter of his safety, more so, his productivity. A common concern for Ja'far. The advisor had allowed more time for him to complete his work; there were no excuses, well, that he would listen to now anyway. Low and behold, Sinbad was asleep, with barely any of the work done that the advisor had left on his last round. Again, hopes dashed. Ja’far just stood there, blankly.
Re: -> REVISE
It wasn’t like he didn’t like the festivities; actually, he rather enjoyed them. But these events could not be taken so lightly. With the king out in the open, in public (and will most likely end up drunk), he knew all too well the possibility of an attempted assassination or attack. Even if the Sin was more than capable of looking after himself, he would not give anyone the chance to harm him, or any of the others. If he could not do it, he wouldn’t allow another to, he owed them that much.
He arrived at Sin’s office, a scrolls gathered in one arm, the other knocking briskly on the thick wooden doors before entering. Please let him be done, please.
"Sin? The celebrations will commence in a while, are you prepared?—"
No response. Glorious.
"Sinbad, please, we certainly do not have a luxury of time to waste carelessly, nobody would like if you're late."
He waited a moment, one more, before taking it upon himself to enter the king’s quarters. It wasn’t a matter of his safety, more so, his productivity. A common concern for Ja'far. The advisor had allowed more time for him to complete his work; there were no excuses, well, that he would listen to now anyway. Low and behold, Sinbad was asleep, with barely any of the work done that the advisor had left on his last round.
Again, hopes dashed. Ja’far just stood there, blankly.
".. I’m going to kill you, Sin."