[Needless to say, there are worse names. Elmdale and its Blouse Barn are blights upon the creative psyche but David is nothing if not stubbornly clinging to his identity.]
there's a dive at the edge of Elmdale so the options are that, or a delightful stay at the Holiday Inn
at least you can be sure there's only one of the latter as opposed to yet another tree village spinoff
the barn works i can always pick the lock
[ whenever rafe ends up in dive bars in rural backwaters there's always some asshole with a confederate flag on his truck who wants to start something. not that rafe is against finishing said something but david is slightly more... hm, conflict averse? than rafe any given day so ]
nothing says "originality" like a place that looks like a practical joke on a map
I'll send you the location
[Thank God Mutt's stupid barn isn't that far away, it means he doesn't have to sign out the shared family car for this venture. David taps the poor excuse for an address along and grabs his jacket, because he's 97% sure the place will be fucking impossible to find without a light on.]
[ impossible for some, but then again rafe makes a career out of hard-to-find places so by the time david arrives the lights are already on and a black koenigsegg is parked outside of the barn.
the promised goods — triple sec, cranberry juice — are in a bag on the kitchen counter along with some Proper Bagels™ and fixings as a matter of courtesy. meanwhile rafe is rummaging through cabinets for glasses and a spoon. (they'll need a knife for the bagels but honestly. rafe always has one of those somewhere.) ]
You know, [ he notes without bothering to look over his shoulder, ] just because they live in the middle of nowhere? Does not mean they should be skimping on security.
[David is only reassured that Mutt isn't home early by the fact that the car parked out front - a glossy little number with New York plates - is probably worth more than all of Schitt's Creek put together. He picks his way around the gravel and through the door, wearing black on black to the surprise of absolutely no one in the general vicinity.
They have similar tastes.]
The only criminals who break into places like this are raccoons. [He hazards, eyeing the dark corners and half-expecting them to be there. Mutt's been gone a while.] And people out here don't have alarm systems, it's like a weird small town thing.
Alarm systems, no. Too impractical without a central dispatch near enough to send anything out before some asshole dives back in with the Children of the Corn.
[ rafe's shirt rides up as he reaches for the top shelf, revealing a slip of leather and flash of mother-of-pearl before he gets what he's after. he turns back with his borrowed spoils and sets everything in front of david without preamble. after all, gotta grab the knife from his back pocket and start on these bagels.
anyone saying cosmos and bagels don't go together can leave this barn posthaste, thank. ]
I'm talking a deadbolt or. [ he snorts, not able to wrap his mind around the fact that some people trust that they won't be taken advantage of. what morons. ] Something. I was actually disappointed by how simple it was to jimmy the one lock.
[Hands fluttering together in front of him David steps beyond the sad excuse for a foyer and wonders when Mutt is going to return from his pine cone journey, or whatever the Hell Alexis had said he was doing. David sidles around the corner of a makeshift cabinet thing and props his elbows on the counter, watching in obvious interest as Rafe reaches up and something shiny catches his eye.
Not unlike a magpie who spent a good portion of his teens bedazzling things David shares a few mhms of agreement, trying to get a better look.]
It's not like Mutt has anything worth stealing anyway.
[He grimaces briefly at the interior decor, but stays on-topic.]
Also, is that a fucking gun strapped to your belt or are you accessorizing with mother-of-pearl now?
From what I've seen already, point. [ the bagels are quick work, halved and plated as rafe answers. the knife is only barely used for punctuation with a couple flicks back and forth before it's wiped clean with a towel and sheathed again. ] But you think people cruising by know that just passing by? No.
[ wait a minute. he can't have heard that right. ]
Mutt?
[ he thought it was just stupid ass rich people who gave out names like that. shaking his head, he's more than happy to move on with a matter-of-fact shrug. ]
It's not an either-or answer. I had the grips reworked a while back. Turned out nicely. [ the second of the pair is in the glove compartment — he knows he doesn't need both with him. he has some restraint, okay. ] And don't worry, my permits are up to date.
[Side-eyeing the knife comes next, because apparently Rafe is stocking a goddamn arsenal on his person these days and it makes him wonder whether the guy has taken up more serious hobbies.]
I'm not worried about the permits, I'm worried about the statement, Tex.
[David points out, slipping around the counter and prodding at the small of Rafe's back before snagging half a bagel.]
Please tell me you don't have a poncho in the back of your conspicuously slick car.
[ sure, david. "these days". totally new development. yep. ]
I know this is gonna be difficult for you, but it's not about making a statement. [ there's a smirk on his face at david's expense but as far as rafe's smirks go this one is positively benign. almost fond. (a fact that rafe will vehemently deny if pointed out, thank you.) ] It's about practicality.
[ a word that david has only ever had a passing acquaintance with, as rafe well knows. or anyone would be able to tell with one look at those skort-short-whatevers he's chosen to wear tonight. ]
Christ, no. Not sure how the jump lands from gun to a poncho but you can rest easy on that point. [ besides there are plenty of other and more effective foul weather fashion choices one can make. ]
[He retrieves something he's pretty sure is cream cheese from the fridge, because if nothing else, Mutt is an advocate for local businesses and organic production.]
[ rafe presses his lips together in a humorless smirk, head tilting as david delivers the punchline like a pro. walked right fucking into it, too— and he knows a certain person who'd just bust out into a stupid grin hearing it.
ugh. ]
Cute. More into the spaghetti than the Western, but cute.
[ sliding the cosmo ingredients over, he helps himself to a bagel with butter. ]
So, I've been here five minutes and you haven't angled for a ticket back to civilization. [ eyebrow? ] Something's changed.
Edited (i don't like two toos ) 2019-01-21 17:12 (UTC)
[David knows his limits and doesn't intend to imbibe anything until he has a safety net of carbohydrates lining his stomach, so he takes note of the other critical ingredients Rafe has brought with him and occupies himself with the bagel. Jesus, it's good.]
Ummm I'm starting a business.
[He says offhandedly, refusing to make eye contact.]
[ no matter how offhanded david wants to be, rafe still prickles a little bit. it doesn't matter how long he and david have known each other, that david is likely among the less-than-handful of people who can say he knows rafe, it's still a knee-jerk reaction when someone assumes anything of him. it's happened too often from too many who don't come close to the experience david can claim.
but more to the point— he coughs around his mouthful of bagel and has to swallow a few times before he can respond. ]
A business. [ he echoes, his other eyebrow joining the first. ] You can't tell me there's a market for art galleries around these parts.
[David knows better than to ask favors like that from people like Rafe, no matter how friendly they are and have been in the near and distant past. Besides, he still has his pride, and he's sunk too much into this godforsaken place to not want to claw his way into a niche he wove from whole-fucking-cloth.]
It's not a gallery.
[He says crisply, picking at one particular seed on his bagel.]
It's...more like an experiment in endorsing sustainable local product- [David explains with a small flourish.] -and supporting regional small businesses by collecting them under a cohesive brand, which is me.
[ whatever he was expecting david's next big thing to be, it certainly wasn't that. ]
Huh. [ rafe chews it over slowly, along with his bagel. the silence drags on for a long minute before he says anything else. ] That's actually a solid idea to go off of.
[ if there's surprise, it's only because david has never been the money-minded type. spending it, to be absolutely sure, yeah, and mostly on the most ridiculous sweaters rafe's ever seen this side of the eighties, but not so much in making it. he's never had to. (neither has rafe but that's besides the point.) his contributions were always geared more toward the arts which, y'know. fair enough. the effort was there.
but this is... smart. smarter than rafe was expecting but now turns over in his head, eyes slightly unfocused the way they always get when he starts visualizing account ledgers. ]
The local commerce angle and community focus probably makes you eligible for more than a few grants on multiple levels. You should be looking into that funding if you haven't already.
[It's the silence that kills him. Rafe is too fucking perceptive to not cling to anything that sounds like a decent business venture and apply his own expertise, but what was David supposed to do? Not tell him about the successful endeavor that is Rose Apothecary?
Bitch, please.]
Ah- mmm, thank you?
[The vague, not-quite-a-laugh he executes is one Rafe has heard before, which waffles between dismissive and sincere.]
But I already have. My business partner turned in the applications a few weeks ago, so, we're good.
[ no one would ever be cruel enough to ask david rose to keep his mouth shut. or naive enough to expect it to work.
rafe, meanwhile, uses his words (or doesn't) as tactically as his money— where and when they'll have the best effect. it's truly astounding how many people can't handle a concentrated silent stare longer than thirty seconds. he does so again now, partly because he knows exactly how it'll make david squirm and partly because... well. just because he can.
rafe adler is a little shit. stop the presses. ]
A business partner. [ echoes seem to be a thing tonight. weird acoustics in this barn. ] Go on.
[It does make David squirm, because Rafe is uncomfortably perceptive and a known asshole who digs until he has exactly what he wants, and nothing less. It's a dedication to perfectionism David can admire when its laser-focus isn't turned on him.]
Yeah. Business partner.
[The echo continues, somewhat defensive. Mutt should get that checked out.]
He's just a local guy who does accounting and wanted to invest in a sustainable model.
[ rafe immediately decides there are two possibilities here. the first and worst is a backwoods edition sebastien raine looking to bilk whatever money david still has and david knows it but is too distracted by... again. well. but a moment's consideration and rafe calculates the odds, dismisses it. (and not just because he would then feel some obligation to put a bullet in some hick's kneecap.)
no, it doesn't fit.
the over-casual dismissal to hide a clearly positive experience, the sudden defensiveness. rafe's eyes narrow, taking measure in another stretched-out silence. which leads right into the second and much more entertaining possibility: ]
[ David wouldn't fuck anything that wears flannel unironically, thank you, but- no, actually, that's a lie. He did once. Shut up.
He clears his throat, sidling around the counter and picking at the edge conspicuously. Not necessarily playing coy so much as wanting to put some distance between him and the inquisitive party. It lessens the burn of that microscope. ]
Patrick.
[ He delivers with enunciated crispness, giving Rafe a look. ]
[ yeah, mmhmm. you were saying? williamsburg, anybody? ]
How parochial.
[ if the look is meant to be any kind of deterrent than david needs to work on it or aim it at somebody who gives infinitely more fucks about that kind of thing. rafe doesn't let loose the full power of the smirk™ yet but it's waiting. lurking. and it only gets worse when it becomes clear that david isn't saying anything else. ]
Hm. I think that is the least I've ever heard you say about any single subject in twenty five years.
[ He's getting overly defensive and it shows, but David doesn't have a last resort for this kind of thing. He doesn't have a contingency plan. He just has his own sartorial expertise and a sort-of boyfriend he didn't want Rafe to know about.
David's gesture is fluttery and dismissive, and after chewing another bite of bagel he adds: ]
He's just a business major who dresses exactly the way you think business majors dress.
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chardismastic) wrote2016-08-08 05:33 pm
no subject
give it forty minutes for elmdale
god could they have gone any more generic with that name
[ where does a person even meet up in a place called elmdale?? are there even bars??? or is it a footloose sort of situation who even knows
at least he's bringing his own supplies tonight ]
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[Needless to say, there are worse names. Elmdale and its Blouse Barn are blights upon the creative psyche but David is nothing if not stubbornly clinging to his identity.]
there's a dive at the edge of Elmdale so the options are that, or a delightful stay at the Holiday Inn
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the barn works i can always pick the lock
[ whenever rafe ends up in dive bars in rural backwaters there's always some asshole with a confederate flag on his truck who wants to start something. not that rafe is against finishing said something but david is slightly more... hm, conflict averse? than rafe any given day so ]
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I'll send you the location
[Thank God Mutt's stupid barn isn't that far away, it means he doesn't have to sign out the shared family car for this venture. David taps the poor excuse for an address along and grabs his jacket, because he's 97% sure the place will be fucking impossible to find without a light on.]
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the promised goods — triple sec, cranberry juice — are in a bag on the kitchen counter along with some Proper Bagels™ and fixings as a matter of courtesy. meanwhile rafe is rummaging through cabinets for glasses and a spoon. (they'll need a knife for the bagels but honestly. rafe always has one of those somewhere.) ]
You know, [ he notes without bothering to look over his shoulder, ] just because they live in the middle of nowhere? Does not mean they should be skimping on security.
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They have similar tastes.]
The only criminals who break into places like this are raccoons. [He hazards, eyeing the dark corners and half-expecting them to be there. Mutt's been gone a while.] And people out here don't have alarm systems, it's like a weird small town thing.
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[ rafe's shirt rides up as he reaches for the top shelf, revealing a slip of leather and flash of mother-of-pearl before he gets what he's after. he turns back with his borrowed spoils and sets everything in front of david without preamble. after all, gotta grab the knife from his back pocket and start on these bagels.
anyone saying cosmos and bagels don't go together can leave this barn posthaste, thank. ]
I'm talking a deadbolt or. [ he snorts, not able to wrap his mind around the fact that some people trust that they won't be taken advantage of. what morons. ] Something. I was actually disappointed by how simple it was to jimmy the one lock.
no subject
Not unlike a magpie who spent a good portion of his teens bedazzling things David shares a few mhms of agreement, trying to get a better look.]
It's not like Mutt has anything worth stealing anyway.
[He grimaces briefly at the interior decor, but stays on-topic.]
Also, is that a fucking gun strapped to your belt or are you accessorizing with mother-of-pearl now?
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[ wait a minute. he can't have heard that right. ]
Mutt?
[ he thought it was just stupid ass rich people who gave out names like that. shaking his head, he's more than happy to move on with a matter-of-fact shrug. ]
It's not an either-or answer. I had the grips reworked a while back. Turned out nicely. [ the second of the pair is in the glove compartment — he knows he doesn't need both with him. he has some restraint, okay. ] And don't worry, my permits are up to date.
no subject
I'm not worried about the permits, I'm worried about the statement, Tex.
[David points out, slipping around the counter and prodding at the small of Rafe's back before snagging half a bagel.]
Please tell me you don't have a poncho in the back of your conspicuously slick car.
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I know this is gonna be difficult for you, but it's not about making a statement. [ there's a smirk on his face at david's expense but as far as rafe's smirks go this one is positively benign. almost fond. (a fact that rafe will vehemently deny if pointed out, thank you.) ] It's about practicality.
[ a word that david has only ever had a passing acquaintance with, as rafe well knows. or anyone would be able to tell with one look at those skort-short-whatevers he's chosen to wear tonight. ]
Christ, no. Not sure how the jump lands from gun to a poncho but you can rest easy on that point. [ besides there are plenty of other and more effective foul weather fashion choices one can make. ]
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[He retrieves something he's pretty sure is cream cheese from the fridge, because if nothing else, Mutt is an advocate for local businesses and organic production.]
Give my regards to Clint Eastwood.
[David takes a bite.]
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ugh. ]
Cute. More into the spaghetti than the Western, but cute.
[ sliding the cosmo ingredients over, he helps himself to a bagel with butter. ]
So, I've been here five minutes and you haven't angled for a ticket back to civilization. [ eyebrow? ] Something's changed.
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Ummm I'm starting a business.
[He says offhandedly, refusing to make eye contact.]
And you wouldn't take me back to New York anyway.
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[ no matter how offhanded david wants to be, rafe still prickles a little bit. it doesn't matter how long he and david have known each other, that david is likely among the less-than-handful of people who can say he knows rafe, it's still a knee-jerk reaction when someone assumes anything of him. it's happened too often from too many who don't come close to the experience david can claim.
but more to the point— he coughs around his mouthful of bagel and has to swallow a few times before he can respond. ]
A business. [ he echoes, his other eyebrow joining the first. ] You can't tell me there's a market for art galleries around these parts.
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It's not a gallery.
[He says crisply, picking at one particular seed on his bagel.]
It's...more like an experiment in endorsing sustainable local product- [David explains with a small flourish.] -and supporting regional small businesses by collecting them under a cohesive brand, which is me.
no subject
Huh. [ rafe chews it over slowly, along with his bagel. the silence drags on for a long minute before he says anything else. ] That's actually a solid idea to go off of.
[ if there's surprise, it's only because david has never been the money-minded type. spending it, to be absolutely sure, yeah, and mostly on the most ridiculous sweaters rafe's ever seen this side of the eighties, but not so much in making it. he's never had to. (neither has rafe but that's besides the point.) his contributions were always geared more toward the arts which, y'know. fair enough. the effort was there.
but this is... smart. smarter than rafe was expecting but now turns over in his head, eyes slightly unfocused the way they always get when he starts visualizing account ledgers. ]
The local commerce angle and community focus probably makes you eligible for more than a few grants on multiple levels. You should be looking into that funding if you haven't already.
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Bitch, please.]
Ah- mmm, thank you?
[The vague, not-quite-a-laugh he executes is one Rafe has heard before, which waffles between dismissive and sincere.]
But I already have. My business partner turned in the applications a few weeks ago, so, we're good.
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rafe, meanwhile, uses his words (or doesn't) as tactically as his money— where and when they'll have the best effect. it's truly astounding how many people can't handle a concentrated silent stare longer than thirty seconds. he does so again now, partly because he knows exactly how it'll make david squirm and partly because... well. just because he can.
rafe adler is a little shit. stop the presses. ]
A business partner. [ echoes seem to be a thing tonight. weird acoustics in this barn. ] Go on.
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Yeah. Business partner.
[The echo continues, somewhat defensive. Mutt should get that checked out.]
He's just a local guy who does accounting and wanted to invest in a sustainable model.
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no, it doesn't fit.
the over-casual dismissal to hide a clearly positive experience, the sudden defensiveness. rafe's eyes narrow, taking measure in another stretched-out silence. which leads right into the second and much more entertaining possibility: ]
Does this "local guy" have a name?
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He clears his throat, sidling around the counter and picking at the edge conspicuously. Not necessarily playing coy so much as wanting to put some distance between him and the inquisitive party. It lessens the burn of that microscope. ]
Patrick.
[ He delivers with enunciated crispness, giving Rafe a look. ]
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How parochial.
[ if the look is meant to be any kind of deterrent than david needs to work on it or aim it at somebody who gives infinitely more fucks about that kind of thing. rafe doesn't let loose the full power of the smirk™ yet but it's waiting. lurking. and it only gets worse when it becomes clear that david isn't saying anything else. ]
Hm. I think that is the least I've ever heard you say about any single subject in twenty five years.
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[ He's getting overly defensive and it shows, but David doesn't have a last resort for this kind of thing. He doesn't have a contingency plan. He just has his own sartorial expertise and a sort-of boyfriend he didn't want Rafe to know about.
David's gesture is fluttery and dismissive, and after chewing another bite of bagel he adds: ]
He's just a business major who dresses exactly the way you think business majors dress.
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