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    1. Phloem 11 yrs ago

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GEEETTTTTTT DUNKED ON



[ 19 - they/them - ISTP - GMT+8 ]

this is phloem and i'm literally the worst
...forreal tho hmu if you wanna rp

Most Recent Posts

Interested.
Demetrius's face while he's surrounded by all these poor people, probably.



Also, finally posted. It's kinda poop, but whatever, I'm too exhausted to care. x.x
Quite reluctantly, Demetrius took Iago’s hand, giving it two firm shakes before letting go. From what he’d seen so far, this new acquaintance of his seemed… interesting, to say the least. That sparkling crystal chalice? Bringing your own wine to a festival? Things like that took a special kind of old-money affectation, though he couldn’t say he blamed the fellow. All they seemed to serve in Stratford were ciders and ales -- the absolute, worst swill, as far as he was concerned.

“Demetrius Chiklis. It’s nice to meet you,” he returned in as sincere a tone he could muster, his lips arranging themselves into a smile that lifted lifelessly, as if by hooks. A bland, conventional reply, because he couldn’t be bothered to come up with anything better. Was he supposed to care about At Iago’s little comment, Demetrius’s bespectacled, blue eyes were drawn over the seething crowd before them. There were far too many people here, for his tastes, and it seemed as if his companion felt the same. Still, a shared distaste for crowds wasn’t nearly enough for him to warm to Iago. Unlike some people, he doesn’t fall over himself trying to befriend everyone he meets.

Before he could follow that train of thought any further, however, Demetrius spotted a familiar face in the crowd. And, much to his chagrin, he seemed to be headed their way. Constable Macbeth was one of the last people he wanted to see, right now. Granted, he hasn’t exactly been having the best time at the festival, anyway, but things could always get worse. Especially when it came to the constable, who had a talent for fucking things up. Both literally, and figuratively.

In the scarce amount of time it took for Macbeth to make his way over, Demetrius was unable to plot out an escape route. Worst of all, it now appeared as if were to be engaged in a most dreadful activity -- small talk. But until he could properly excuse himself from this little gathering, Demetrius had no other choice other than play along.

“It’s… great,” Demetrius replied, perhaps a little less genuinely than he’d intended. “But the real show’s yet to begin.”
Argh, sorry guys. I've been real busy today, but I'll be able to whip something up in a couple of hours, hopefully.
Right, I'll try to keep things moving once I get home from work tonight.
ಠ_ಠ


¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Anyways, can I just do a quick check on who’s still here?
Iago and Demetrius are either going to end up bitter enemies or total besties, calling it now.


Either way, it's gonna mean trouble for everyone else. :P
“Lovely evening.”

A quiet sigh of annoyance rushed past Demetrius’s lips at the interruption. All he wanted to do was finish his cigarette in peace, but in a place like this, it was apparently too much to ask for. That was one of things he hated most about the bourgeois -- their dogged need to make small talk with whoever happened to be present. With each passing second, whatever motivation he had for attending this little festival quickly evaporated, and the idea of hopping into his Rolls Royce and getting the hell out of dodge grew increasingly appealing. The Chiklis summer home was only a five minute drive away, after all, he could make it back before anyone noticed his absence. But when Demetrius turned to look at the source of the voice, who he saw was far from the sweaty, dirt-caked farmer he’d been expecting.

In fact, the man who stood before him was dressed to the nines, a very expensive looking crystal chalice cradled in his fingers. Demetrius’s eyes narrowed, just a little, though the subtle change in demeanour would never escape an expert’s scrutiny. Stratford saw its fair share of filthy rich merrymakers, especially during the summer months, so it wasn’t surprising that he happened to bump shoulders with someone who appeared equally affluent. Except… he’d never seen the stranger around, and that was what made his current situation all the more perplexing. As heir to the Chiklis dynasty, Demetrius was expected to know every last detail about their competition and allies, but for now, he was drawing a blank.

“Yes, I suppose so.” Demetrius murmured, taking a long drag of his cigarette. For a moment, his gaze lingered on the stranger, searching, before it finally flickered away, back towards the festivities. “Though I can’t say the same about the company. And you are...?”
Great posts so far, guys. I'm working on another right now. C:
Sorry guys, but I'm thinking I'm going to wind up dropping this RP. I really wanted to do this, but... my inspiration has fled. Also I'll be only spottily available all summer and I'd rather only have a couple RPs to keep on top of.


Aww, that sucks. But I understand, best of luck in your other RPs. :)
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