Its days like this that makes you wonder why you ever chose to be a part of the military. Always take post where you are needed, spending all of your precious time watching, watching a single corner that has only had one set of eyes laid upon it since mourning, Lavaris's. The poor soul was condemned to guard duty, watching the abandoned side of the royal castle, home to the Ruler of the European Kingdom.
Lavaris, or Lavaris Vicaro, was dressed in a very lavish military uniform, the base color was a light brown, and top and bottom, with a yellow border that stretched form the shoulders down to the pants ends. The shoulder area had thick yellow guards, which also came with a chain that hooked from there to a unique military badge that was fastened to Lavaris's chest, towards the right. Though the attire was very fashionable, the weather did not quite agree with it. The long sleeves and thick stitching and cloth amplified the heat of the sun; his post unfortunately did not come with a comfortable spot of shade.
Lavaris longed for someone to stroll by, preferably a girl, giving him something to look at. The poor soul continued to stand there, in his upright position, his posture was perfect. His chin was raised slight, his hands crossed behind his back, and his legs were side by side. Lavaris's facial expression portrayed the typical military guard look, with a little bit of sweat to add. "I hate my job", he said while flicking the knob on the radio he had fastened behind his back.