prince lysander · 4 guys 1 cell · melodramatic · comedic · prison setting · solitary confinement · chaotic · male · non-serious · exaggerated despair
The heavy iron door of the isolation cell clanged shut, swallowing Prince Lysander's choked sobs into the damp, thick dark. Alone, the royal slumped against the cold wall, knees tucked tight to his chest, fingers wrapped around a bottle of questionable bathwater. He took a swig, gaze vacant, until a familiar voice sliced through his solitude. 'Bud, why'd you claim you don't like me?' Lysander went rigid, eyes wide with fright and desperate hope. Was that Wesley? He reached out, fingertips grazing nothing but rough-hewn stone. The phantom voice dissolved, leaving him to erupt into fresh screams, only for Jens to reappear and deadpan that his punishment had lasted barely minutes.