silkcut
Junior Member
Thirties. Non-binary (they/them) bisexual. INTJ. Taurus-Aries-Scorpio. Temperance tarot. Ravenclaw.
Posts: 50
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Post by silkcut on Sept 6, 2020 5:38:25 GMT
➽ Ｃｈａｒａｃｔｅｒs:
Gilgamesh + Social Media
➽ Ｐｌｏｔ :
A bored demigod/fuckboi takes an enticing bait from a familiar acquaintance with a new, hip vessel.
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silkcut
Junior Member
Thirties. Non-binary (they/them) bisexual. INTJ. Taurus-Aries-Scorpio. Temperance tarot. Ravenclaw.
Posts: 50
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Post by silkcut on Sept 6, 2020 5:41:11 GMT
The audacity in which this woman messaged him made something inside him tingle with familiarity. When was the last time he felt this way again? As much as he claimed that he could remember a name and a face in an instant, some parts of his memories about past events can get muddled too.
Maybe that's why he paints. Maybe that's why he's got a big boner for things that get destroyed and restored only in how you envision it again in a canvass.
Gilgamesh scoffed in amusement when he noticed the new photo in her profile. Why is she trying to sell him this plain-Jane thing?
(í dσn't thínk í'm gσíng tσ líkє чσu)
He sent that reply after her first response. Afterwards he took another sip of his vape as watched the tiny dots appear before the next message from her end came up.
Snickering, he sent back:
(вσld σf чσu tσ αssumє í'm íntєrєstєd єnσugh tσ mєєt чσu.)
And yet he was already on his feet and looking through his closet for something to put on.
(sєє чσu αt thrєє. wєαr sσmєthíng σutrαgєσus sσ í cαn spσt чσur вσríng αss frσm α crσwd.)
Once he selected the garments with as little effort as possible (he looks damn good in anything anyway), Gilgamesh went to the agreed rendezvous point. He was about a full hour late, but who wants to be in fucking Little Havana anyway at this hour? Certainly not a drugged out, hungover demigod.
He brought nothing with him but his two phones, vape and a condom (just in case), all buried in the pockets of his jeans. Also his attitude that skated between smug and indifferent at the drop of a dime.
"The hot one's here," he stepped forward to a group of obvious tourists huddled together on a table. Without understanding, none piped up to tell him not to sit on a spot they left vacant for a friend.
Gilgamesh wasn't going to waste time looking for Plain Jane. She should come to him, like any commoner should visit their king. |
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Cuppy
New Member
Posts: 48 
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Post by Cuppy on Sept 15, 2020 8:49:53 GMT
Social Media
To change into something outrageous is easy for Social Media, if by outrageous he means baggy, shabby and a little bit steampunk around the edges. It’s her style, and he can fite her for it. In this day and age nothing behind the screen matters anyway.
She has enough time to give her hair the fresh-out-of-bed look, and even to order a necklace with an eight pointed star pendant by instant delivery from Amazon. When all is done, Gilgamesh is still ten minutes from the rendezvous point, as her gps tracker tells her.
At the club she’s spotted him right away, giving his too-sexy-for-my-shirt routine. But she’d be damned if she just walked up to him like one of his horny chicks. She’s a Goddess, he’s a King, so she’s totally gonna pull rank.
Leaning casually against the wall at the left hand side of the establishment, she takes out her phone and shoots a selfie, the necklace with the eight pointed star clearly visible. She’s uploading it to Insta, #NightOut #QueenOfHeaven #FindMe, and tags Gilgamesh in it.
For a moment Social Media ponders to hack his phone cam, so she can have a good look on his face when he finds the post, but then she decides to rather indulge in a drink. It doesn’t even take two minutes before some scrawny halfwit nudges her, offering her a small choice of multicolored pills. Drugs. He clearly is the number 1 God still.
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silkcut
Junior Member
Thirties. Non-binary (they/them) bisexual. INTJ. Taurus-Aries-Scorpio. Temperance tarot. Ravenclaw.
Posts: 50
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Post by silkcut on Sept 24, 2020 9:56:01 GMT
Gilgamesh has always loved a good dance party, and whether or not it’s just the pot bringing out his nostalgia for the Old days, he lets his mind reel back to the temples of Uruk. It’s where men and women first gave and took from each other without the consequences of shame and justifications found in moral imperatives.
It’s also the one shining memory in history he could claim had been beautiful and unique. The evolution of worship through dance was an interesting event to personally witness unfold since. Instead of gods, mortals worshipped themselves foremost these days, which was the entire point of America. That’s where true immortality lies—not in the grand promises of some powerful deity but in the choices individuals make in their measly so they could feel good and loved and meaningful before the wicker eventually burns out in the wax of self-fulfilling destinies.
Yeah, it’s definitely just the pot. Drugs is his favorite new god, because they’re so hands-on, providing a ready heady connection without the routine and labor of a relationship that comes along with it.
You know what isn’t his favorite though? Attention-seeking bitches and their passive aggressive selfies that obviously exist only to bait him.
Gilgamesh couldn’t suppress the eye roll as he takes out the vape from between his lips. This bullshit is enough to sober him up. By this point he knows this tart isn’t just some rando Instagram slut playing catfish. Her sigil choice is far too specific. Even Pinterest weirdos are more subtle.
He surveys the cluttered room of hormones and music until he locks gazes with her. It isn’t really pride that keeps him seated in that position but rather lethargy, so he supposed it couldn’t hurt to just get off his ass and get to the bottom of this once and for all.
Of course, he drags his feet as he approaches and occasionally bumps against grinding bodies though it doesn’t break his stride.
As soon as he’s standing a few feet away from her, he lifts his phone to show her the screen. He asks in a grumpy tone, “What in Loki’s equine cock is this now?”
His eyes then latches onto the curve of her throat before they land on the sigil she’s flaunting. It takes all of his restraint not to rip the chain from her neck. That would just show he still cares, three millennia after everything went to shit. |
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