demcdici

[demcdici]

circvitous‌:

he’s still not used to all these fancy and new things here. the things he’s experienced in just these last couple of weeks have been more than he’s experiences in the entirety of his lifetime. honestly, it was a bit overwhelming at times, even if it was just about a croissant. “i’m not really the best one either. i am just kind of forcing myself out and hoping for the best at this point. it’s been a pretty good time so far if i’m honest. kind of hard to have a bad time here.”

his expression flickered for a moment, his eyes lighting up. “ i can’t believe i forgot. i did manage to see a show at the globe ― nothing i’ve wanted to see for ages ― but it’s the globe. at least i can say i’ve been there. ” he nodded at kelly’s words, agreeing with what was said. “ i just feel like this is the chance of a lifetime. if i don’t do it now, i probably won’t ever get the chance to again. i’m pushing myself to do everything. ”

[demcdici]

kelly

it was all a crazy trip, but he was ready to move onto the next thing. london was a gift. of course, it was going a lot more smooth than the mess that new york city was. “the croissants are good. very fluffy and better. definitely recommend.” he nods, picking up a sausage and taking a bite. “my plan was just to kind of poke around. went to all the major destinations but i kind of jsut want to find some nice places and admire.” he shrugged. “what about you, what’s left on your list?”

“ i think i’ve had at least one a day since being here. ” a pained expression crossed his face, as if he’d had a startling revelation. with one hand clasped to his chest, he sighed, saying,“ woe will be me when i’m home and don’t have such a luxury. ” he ducked his head, laughing at his own mild dramatics. “ oh, nice ― and me ? i didn’t really have a plan. i don’t think i’ve had a plan for anywhere, really. i’ve seen all the big things, i guess ? i’m not the best traveler. i’ve been acting as a tagalong mostly. ”

[demcdici]

yohan

          * ╰   IT SOUNDED LIKE HEAVEN ITSELF was BREAKING a p a r t ; that celestial gash of thunder & lightning that screamed through the gray london sky. “ jesus fuckin’ christ —— it’s rained every day since we got here, hasn’t it ? ” yohan muses, standing at the entrance of the montague on the gardens with a cigarette in hand ; smoke curling off of him in waves. 

luca pulls his jacket tighter around himself, hoping it’ll take the stinging edge off of the cold rain. it doesn’t, though ― already, his shoes are soaked through and the hems of his jeans are wet. “ did you really expect much different ? ” he looks at yohan, his brows drawing together. “ it’s ― this is london, you know. it’s known to be dreary and grey. ” he sounds chiding, but he hopes it’s cut by the slight smile on his mouth.

[demcdici]

kelly

@demcdici​    |    hotel buffet

kelly was still waking up bright and early. wanted to enjoy the city as much as they could before they’d end up packing their things and leaving again. he filled up his plate with as much as he could, loading up since he likely wouldn’t eat until later in the day. he spotted the familiar face of luca and decided to sit across from him, picking up a piece of bacon. “not used to this good of a breakfast buffet.”

early mornings never suited luca and it was likely they never would. he preferred waking up when the sun crept through his window, peeking through eyelids ― not to the radio blare of an alarm. of course, this trip had been full of alarms and timetables, none of which he was keen on. he was getting over it, though, or at least trying to, for the sake of the trip. he had come down to breakfast, still in sweatpants and an old tee shirt. he had grabbed a cup of coffee, loaded it with sugar, and had found a seat. he decided he would grab an actual breakfast when he was more awake and alert. luca yawned as someone sat across from him. with a half-grin, he nodded his head, his eyes glancing towards the spread of food. “ i was thinking of grabbing a croissant. or maybe, like, three. and maybe bacon. but definitely the pastries. ” he took a deep breath, nodding to himself. “ got any last minute plans ? ”

[demcdici]

(   hero fiennes tiffin ,   muse  d .  )   ❛❛  looks  like  luca de medici  is  all  packed  up  and  ready  to  take  on  the  world  !   with  the  semester  coming  to  an  end  ,   the  twenty two  year  old  is  so  ready  to  drink in shoddy pubs  in  prague .   tommy’s party by peach pit  has  to  be  playing  in  the  background  though ,  or  it  really  wouldn't  match  their  wry  and  standoffish  persona .   see  you  in  a  year ,  luca  !   

basics

FULL NAME ; luca lorenzo de medici AGE + BIRTHDAY ;  twenty-two + december 31st GENDER + PRONOUNS ;  cis man + he/him/his OCCUPATION ;  actor EDUCATION ;  dual theater and communications major

CHARACTER TROPES ; jerk with a heart of gold ; tall, dark, and snarky ; broken ace ; troubled, but cute ; used to be a sweet kid

biography

( parental death mention tw ; slight child neglect tw )

the story starts with with a love story — but don’t they all ? boy meets girl. they fall in love. they marry. they settle into their version of a perfect forever. they build a home, they are building a life. it’s strange how good it is. flowers are blooming, the sun is rising — then lightning strikes and it all burns down.

it os the last day of the year.

luca lorenzo de medici is born. his mother dies soon after.

raphael de medici brings his son home and somehow nothing is like how he imagined it to be. he thinks his wife should still be here. a part of him would rather have her than this screaming baby boy.

his parents step in, though. they take care of the child. he calls his grandfather dad and has to be told no. they love their grandson, but their child-rearing days are long behind them. they’re not quite affectionate, not quite eager to take in every drawing and every accomplishment. they feed him, they clothe him. there’s not much more to it.

when luca is old enough to not be at home, he makes sure he isn’t.

like most children, he craves affection.

he finds it in the praise of teachers. he’s a bit of a teacher’s pet, striving to be first and the best at all he can. some notice that his grandparents ( and — most obviously — his father ) never come to any school-related functions. not the band concerts, not parent-teacher conferences, nothing. they encourage him. it’s nice to have some support.

he moves back in with his father when he’s fifteen and suddenly it strikes the both of them that they are strangers. they share a name, they share features, but there’s little more than that. they don’t no each other. they don’t try to.

luca slips in the house after his father goes to sleep. his father goes to work before the sun rises. they see each other in passing, like strangers on a train platform.

he sees pictures of his mother on the wall of his father’s house. he wonders if she would have liked him.

apparently, she was a poet, writing scripts and lyrics. his father called her remarkable in passing once.

luca will never know, not really. but he’s captured the same love for art she had in his own heart.

it starts with a sonnet, memorized and given for an english class. the teacher pulls him aside, suggests he takes a drama class.

he says no. she suggests at the very least he joins the drama club. he acquiesces.

it’s love from first line.

sonnets and soliloquies. he remembers all that he can, channeling his heart, his passion, into the words of others. there’s something nice about slipping into the skin of someone else. sometimes, they’re happier. sometimes, when he’s lucky, he pretends he’s then completely. it’s a nice change.

it’s over a terse dinner that he tells his father he plans to study theater. for a man who never had too much to say, he suddenly has protests. it’s not stable. it’s not practical. luca shrugs. there’s a fund from his mother’s parents that will pay for it anyway. his father has no stake in the matter.

he moves into his college dorm alone, his battered 2002 corolla in the student lot, formerly filled with large boxes containing everything he ever owned.

he doesn’t feel like he’s lost anything.

but school is good. he gets praised, he gets accomplishments. most noticeable to luca is that he makes friends. it’s a nice change. he changes, too. he’s a little less quiet, a little more likely to laugh. he’s open. he’s not living life like a renegade, he’s not wilding. but he’s blooming into someone new.

somehow four years pass in the blink of an eye.

the trip is brought up.

he’s saved for it. but opportunity has popped up.

he could be laertes in a touring production of hamlet. it would be some sort of wonderful.

he turns it down. he decides to travel.

the idea of it being a mistake keeps him up at night. he’s just trying to enjoy himself anyways.

tl ; dr :

boy is born. mother dies. father cannot cope & does not know how to raise a child alone. boy raises self mostly. boy desires affection, settles for escapism through theater. goes to school for theater despite protests. finishes school. gets ( 1 ) good opportunity. decides to travel instead. boy wonders if that was good idea. 

[demcdici]

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