Enter from: blackclover-shatteredgrimoires.com/thread/4037/pumpking-carving?page=1&scrollTo=20399
Connor hadn’t meant to attend this particular part of the event, it was a beauty contest and Connor was neither, beautiful or contestable, at least in this regard.
Being no stranger to competitions, the rogue found solace in the fact that he could at least enjoy the scenery, and the contestant’s personalities, if nothing else.
He had just walked in from the pumpkin carving contest, in which he had opted to make a soup for his fellow festival-goers.
A person approached him, remarking that the contest had already begun; perhaps they assumed too much of him, by the sound of it they seemed like he was a part of this fashion show.
His ash white hair was combed today, maybe they noticed.
They pushed a formal suit into his hands and Connor regarded it with small satisfaction.
Taking a moment to change into it, he procured a rose and affixed the flower to his chest as a corsage.
All in all, he looked pretty snazzy, the lights reflected off his eyes and gave them a ruddy hue.
His indelicate features seemed to smooth, and his outwardly roguish appearance was replaced by formality and repose.
Almost graceful even, he stepped up onto the stage like nobility, perhaps this was the chance he had been robbed of given his stepping down into the fodder of the commoners.
The three-piece suit fit like it was tailored for him, tight-fitting and appropriate to a fault.
He needed help with his bow tie but the stagehands were quick to pick up on this and attended to the need in a matter of seconds.
Connor had only ever worn a suit once before in his life, and that pinstripe had been for work.
Despite the formality of the event, his repose only took him so far; the pride in his appearance had been evident, since he looked in a mirror he had become self-conscious.
Standing up in front of this many people was enchanting, the lucidity and associable look in his gaze was pensive and sharp.
He hadn’t ever been the focus of attention for so many people; since he was a child of nobility, he had been doted on yes, but this many people made him nervous.


Word Count: 375
Total Word Count: 1,387

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