Jul 2, 2016
“What do you mean ‘not tea’?”
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“What do you mean ‘not tea’?”
As soon as he walked in he felt his eyes wandering from his path, caught by the gleam of gold to the side of the hall. Gold in itself was rather common within the palace, though this was new; or rather, he was new. Crossing the hall to his seat at the head of the table, Poppy found his eyes glued upon another man. He'd not seen this face before- perhaps he was the recent hire he'd heard talk of? Raising a finger, he tapped lightly to the side of his glass in request of wine.
“Doriaaaan--” The radio host whined as he entered the room, practically collapsing on top of the other figure’s chest, “I’m bored.”
~ Secret Santa Reveal! ~
For dorian-red-gloria - Surprise! And Merry Christmas, of course! I’m posting your final gift early because tonight and tomorrow are going to be a whirlwind of activity for me, and I didn’t want to forget. ^_^; Anyway, I’ve been a bit remiss in my Secret Santa duties lately - however hopefully these gifts will make up for it. I couldn't decide whether to go with something serious or something humorous, so I did one of each. I hope one of them is something you can use. ^_^ Also, I know you didn't really ask for them, but I made you some icons, too. They'll be in a separate post.
Hopping out from the gold gilded carriage, it seemed luggage was not the only thing that Poppy had brought with him this time-- In his hand he held a thin leather leash, tethered to which was a golden furred dog; an Afghan hound to be more precise.
Making his way up to the steps of the castle Poppy knocked against the door with his free hand, while the obviously well trained dog had sat itself at his heel, "Dorian, open up-- I have a present!~" He truly hoped the Earl would like this 'gift'.
[Text] Yes... so ryy, Poppies- [Text] I will call you when i am there. [Text] Do you wan t to spend the night before I go?
[Txt; Dori~] As if you have to ask. Of course I’d want to spend the night.[Txt; Dori~] Remember to take your charger this time![Txt; Dori~] I don’t want to try to call and get a dead line again!
[text] I think I have the hang of this te- [Text] Xting thing 1! [text] Mission tomorrow morning, I won't see you for a few days maybe a week.
[Txt; Dori~] Oh congratulations! I was so surprised to see the messages were from you![Txt; Dori~] You’ll be gone for that long? Are you taking your phone?
Bag over his shoulder, the young man had exited from his math class with the ever so familiar sound of the teacher calling him back in-- Of course he didn't intend to listen. It wasn't as if they'd bother giving him a detention of the likes as it was. After all, he wasn't worth the trouble since the teachers all knew by now that Poppycock had no intention of learning a lesson from the punishments. All the tellings off really only achieved one thing; making him late for the next class, and as much as Poppycock enjoyed annoying the teachers, the tables seemed to turn when it was the teachers being annoying for things that he genuinely held no control over.
He was a problem student to say the least, but the Prince certainly wasn't unintelligent-- In fact, quite the opposite. More often than not he merely played up out of sheer boredom with the ease of his classes.
Wandering along the hallways, the Prince made his way down a flight of stairs, heading towards the art department. It was perhaps the only class he genuinely enjoyed. After all, art was a form of expression, and that was all he'd ever really done-- Express himself.
Ignoring the chatter of the small crowd following along behind him until they all parted ways to head to their own classes, he slipped into the art room he'd be in for this period. By some miracle the teacher of this subject had been his favourite too; rather lucky, really. Moving to his seat, Poppycock had dropped the leather satchel beside his chair, rolling back sleeves and flicking back long brunette hair before pulling out his sketch pad, setting it down in front of him.
It always confused him just as much as anyone else, but this class was rather like an alternate reality to anyone who knew him-- In any other class the Prince was the last one to be ready to start the lesson if at all, and the first one to leave. When it came to these art classes it had been the exact opposite. First to start, and always the last to leave.
"Sir--" He piped up over the chatter of the students entering the room in hopes of getting the blond's attention before anyone else could steal it away, "Are we carrying on with last weeks pieces, or are we starting something new again?"