Driscoll was on display for the brothel. There was no getting out of this one, not this time. He was dressed in simple white leggings, his chest bare but he had some jewels which given to him as payment for his services. Most were rings and his fingers felt heavy with them but continue to wear them anyways. His neck had a silver chain with a small ruby pendant at the end.<br/><br/>The parade passed by with a mirage of colours and his eyes ached from becoming rather accustom to the dark. His eyes were straining to see though when the fireworks died down and the displays of magic calmed.<br/><br/>He could see the eyes roaming over him and the others that were assembled, to stand or lounge around outside the building. It was humiliating as both women and men look him over. A human wasn't a rare sight down in the caverns but it wasn't common place. The Queen's float was coming now, the cheers were getting louder. He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms in annoyance, wishing the whole thing would end quickly. It earned him a swat at the back of his head from the proprietor of the brothel, for his indignation.<br/><br/>He lowered his arms, but refused to smile, or look even remotely friendly. But the crowd was ignoring him now as the Queen's float came entirely into sight were event the details of her gown, or lack there-of was, noticeable.