[ This is what he'd come here to talk about, isn't it. The end was a disaster with a capital D for Drake, the middle had been a tangled maze of back and forth and dead ends and new approaches and a hell of a lot of jaw grinding, but the start... Rafe chews the inside of his cheek, eyes locked onto the glass he keeps setting round and round on the table. The start hadn't been all bad. He takes a deep breath. ]
Fresh out of college, I hear about this guy making the rounds, sniffing for money to back an expedition. Everybody on the scene brushed it off, said it wasn't worth the time — a total scam, you know? But I went ahead. Figured it couldn't hurt anything just to hear him out. And he tells me about Henry Avery.
[ It's impossible to hold back the excitement, the match struck and tossed on a pile of coals that haven't stopped burning for fifteen years. He can't help the way it builds with every word, hands coming to life as he gestures, articulating his point. ]
Avery wasn't in the business more than a couple years total but what he managed in those couple years was... [ A breath of a laugh that underscores the massive understatement to come. ] Substantial. And the biggest score he made off with was the Gunsway haul. Stray Mughal ships on pilgrimage to Arabia, loaded down with millions in treasure, and he makes off with everything. [ Not at all nicely, but he doesn't need to share that. Either Gene's enough a student of history to fill in the blanks of piracy or... Well. Rafe isn't about to detail the depravity Avery was capable of. ] The whole of the Western world turns out everything they've got to find him, the most wanted man alive, and—
[ Rafe snaps his fingers. ]
Vanished. Three hundred years later and nobody ever found him or a penny of the plunder he took with him.
[ A conspiracy nut's wet dream. A treasure hunter's ticket to punch. And Rafe, needing neither antipsychotics or money, found a cause. ]
But this guy— He says he's got a lead. All he needs is enough scratch and pull to get a foot in the door and from there... Fortune and glory, there for the taking.
( he listens, rapt. his attention is wholly on rafe, takin' in each word in turn. he can tell there's somethin' here that's hell an' gone deeper than just casual interest. obsession? maybe somethin' along those lines. admiration, surely. an' willful focus.
rafe leaves off the hard parts, but gene knows, ain't many substantial treasures throughout history taken without bloodshed an' sufferin' done. he finds it a curious thing that it's the glory of the take an' not the reality of the thing itself that rafe chooses to focus on. it don't feel strictly like a whitewashin' of history, nor an avoidance of the matter or an issue of polite company. rafe seems like the sorta guy who alternately cares too much about the opinion of others while not carin' at all. an odd dichotomy, born of contradiction.
fortune and glory. there for the takin'. that was what he'd wanted. not the gold.
but still, gene wonders — just how much has he had to prove?
nate told him all about avery. that coin's burnin' a damn hole in his pocket, but instinct cautions him against showin' it. he'd spoken on the matter with a sort of... reticence, almost like it'd been a matter of shame.
two sides. one coin. there's more to this than he's seein'. )
So, I'm guessin' you took this fella up on the matter?
[ As he takes a breath and a sip chase it down, Rafe waits. Has been waiting, really, for the inevitable question that'll follow. How much? It's the logical question for most people, the only thing that matters for them, the salient detail they want to hold onto above all others. The one thing Rafe has never actually given two shits about.
But Gene doesn't cut him short, doesn't butt in to hurry him along, and it's....something. Rafe prides himself on reading people— a necessity, regardless which job he was dealing in that day —and the genuine interest almost catches him off-guard. An ounce of tension eases off his shoulders as he leans back in his seat with half a shrug. ]
He had a pretty convincing pitch. I didn't even mind him tossing his kid brother into the job.
[ As if he hadn't been years younger than that "kid" brother. As if that kid brother were nothing more than a footnote and just as easily skimmed over. Irrelevant. Unnecessary. ]
( nate don't much strike him as an older sibling. more like the younger one come up in someone's shadow, so. that slots in neatly alongside what he already knows, an' gene ducks his head some. takes a slow, thoughtful drink of that hard liquor. funny thing, how it's gotten smoother than what you could find in all the bars in london town. modern processing techniques makin' things better than battery acid an' then some. he shakes his head with a smile, an', in a tone that's softly teasin', )
So, then what? Can't keep a fella in suspense like this, it ain't polite.
[ It's the smooth and easy smartass remark that Rafe can't help but toss back, the kind that would almost be flirting — if the guy sitting across from him looks to be near half his age. Shame, really. He might've been something given another ten years.
But Rafe makes sure to prove his point, dragging out the moment with another slow swallow before he deliberately sets the glass back on the table. He flashes a knife-edged smirk and then finally continues on. ]
Then came Panama. The guy points us towards this Spanish prison from the colonial days and the last mailing address for Avery's first mate. Only issue was a modern max security establishment had gone and grown up around it. So in order for us to get to where we need to go, I greased the right palms and we let ourselves get picked up. Dropped right in where we need to go and nobody but the warden wiser for it.
[ Going with the brothers had been a near thing, an argument that Rafe had only won when pointing out that he hadn't paid anyone yet and wasn't about to without getting his feet on the ground same as them. Nate had rolled his eyes then but Sam had settled them both — not happy about the situation, but not stupid enough to argue with the money that would get them where they all wanted to go. Or with a guy crazy enough to want a stay in a Panamanian prison when he didn't have to.
Sometimes he wonders what might've happened had he listened. How much would've turned out differently. The what-ifs that inevitably follow before Rafe shuts them down with the fact that they probably would've just taken the money and run as soon as Rafe took his eyes off them. ]
The cell's right at the top of the tallest tower, still barely standing after those hundreds of years, and inside we find the next piece of the puzzle. [ Easier to frame it as a we, easier than to explain how he'd been left to wander the yard while Sam gambled his cigarettes away and Nate got to scramble up and see it all for himself. ] A cross, inlaid with gold and silver and— This is where it starts getting real interesting. It's hollow inside.
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no subject
[ This is what he'd come here to talk about, isn't it. The end was a disaster with a capital D for Drake, the middle had been a tangled maze of back and forth and dead ends and new approaches and a hell of a lot of jaw grinding, but the start... Rafe chews the inside of his cheek, eyes locked onto the glass he keeps setting round and round on the table. The start hadn't been all bad. He takes a deep breath. ]
Fresh out of college, I hear about this guy making the rounds, sniffing for money to back an expedition. Everybody on the scene brushed it off, said it wasn't worth the time — a total scam, you know? But I went ahead. Figured it couldn't hurt anything just to hear him out. And he tells me about Henry Avery.
[ It's impossible to hold back the excitement, the match struck and tossed on a pile of coals that haven't stopped burning for fifteen years. He can't help the way it builds with every word, hands coming to life as he gestures, articulating his point. ]
Avery wasn't in the business more than a couple years total but what he managed in those couple years was... [ A breath of a laugh that underscores the massive understatement to come. ] Substantial. And the biggest score he made off with was the Gunsway haul. Stray Mughal ships on pilgrimage to Arabia, loaded down with millions in treasure, and he makes off with everything. [ Not at all nicely, but he doesn't need to share that. Either Gene's enough a student of history to fill in the blanks of piracy or... Well. Rafe isn't about to detail the depravity Avery was capable of. ] The whole of the Western world turns out everything they've got to find him, the most wanted man alive, and—
[ Rafe snaps his fingers. ]
Vanished. Three hundred years later and nobody ever found him or a penny of the plunder he took with him.
[ A conspiracy nut's wet dream. A treasure hunter's ticket to punch. And Rafe, needing neither antipsychotics or money, found a cause. ]
But this guy— He says he's got a lead. All he needs is enough scratch and pull to get a foot in the door and from there... Fortune and glory, there for the taking.
no subject
rafe leaves off the hard parts, but gene knows, ain't many substantial treasures throughout history taken without bloodshed an' sufferin' done. he finds it a curious thing that it's the glory of the take an' not the reality of the thing itself that rafe chooses to focus on. it don't feel strictly like a whitewashin' of history, nor an avoidance of the matter or an issue of polite company. rafe seems like the sorta guy who alternately cares too much about the opinion of others while not carin' at all. an odd dichotomy, born of contradiction.
fortune and glory. there for the takin'. that was what he'd wanted. not the gold.
but still, gene wonders — just how much has he had to prove?
nate told him all about avery. that coin's burnin' a damn hole in his pocket, but instinct cautions him against showin' it. he'd spoken on the matter with a sort of... reticence, almost like it'd been a matter of shame.
two sides. one coin. there's more to this than he's seein'. )
So, I'm guessin' you took this fella up on the matter?
no subject
But Gene doesn't cut him short, doesn't butt in to hurry him along, and it's....something. Rafe prides himself on reading people— a necessity, regardless which job he was dealing in that day —and the genuine interest almost catches him off-guard. An ounce of tension eases off his shoulders as he leans back in his seat with half a shrug. ]
He had a pretty convincing pitch. I didn't even mind him tossing his kid brother into the job.
[ As if he hadn't been years younger than that "kid" brother. As if that kid brother were nothing more than a footnote and just as easily skimmed over. Irrelevant. Unnecessary. ]
no subject
So, then what? Can't keep a fella in suspense like this, it ain't polite.
no subject
[ It's the smooth and easy smartass remark that Rafe can't help but toss back, the kind that would almost be flirting — if the guy sitting across from him looks to be near half his age. Shame, really. He might've been something given another ten years.
But Rafe makes sure to prove his point, dragging out the moment with another slow swallow before he deliberately sets the glass back on the table. He flashes a knife-edged smirk and then finally continues on. ]
Then came Panama. The guy points us towards this Spanish prison from the colonial days and the last mailing address for Avery's first mate. Only issue was a modern max security establishment had gone and grown up around it. So in order for us to get to where we need to go, I greased the right palms and we let ourselves get picked up. Dropped right in where we need to go and nobody but the warden wiser for it.
[ Going with the brothers had been a near thing, an argument that Rafe had only won when pointing out that he hadn't paid anyone yet and wasn't about to without getting his feet on the ground same as them. Nate had rolled his eyes then but Sam had settled them both — not happy about the situation, but not stupid enough to argue with the money that would get them where they all wanted to go. Or with a guy crazy enough to want a stay in a Panamanian prison when he didn't have to.
Sometimes he wonders what might've happened had he listened. How much would've turned out differently. The what-ifs that inevitably follow before Rafe shuts them down with the fact that they probably would've just taken the money and run as soon as Rafe took his eyes off them. ]
The cell's right at the top of the tallest tower, still barely standing after those hundreds of years, and inside we find the next piece of the puzzle. [ Easier to frame it as a we, easier than to explain how he'd been left to wander the yard while Sam gambled his cigarettes away and Nate got to scramble up and see it all for himself. ] A cross, inlaid with gold and silver and— This is where it starts getting real interesting. It's hollow inside.