Cross the Line

Casey Callaghan Show me your hands Are they cleaner than mine?

[afadthatlastsforever]

There’s a corner of my heart that is yours. And I don’t mean for now, or until I’ve found somebody else, I mean forever. I mean to say that whether I fall in love a thousand times over or once or never again, there’ll always be a small quiet place in my heart that belongs only to you.

Beau Taplin || T h e  C o r n e r   (via afadthatlastsforever)

[gogh-save-the-bees]

Yellow it stands for the sun | Vincent Van Gogh Paintings

[casey-n-callaghan]

carter-jm-collingswood·:

“Is that a no to the takeout then?” Carter asked, stepping away and taking a seat. “How did you run into him? The fed?”  Carter examined his own watch a minute, considering what Casey had told him. He’d lifted this watch years ago after reluctantly leaving the one from his father at home. He never wanted the one with his own initials engraved into the back to get them into trouble if they were caught. Aliases worked well until someone could find your initials carved into the back of a Vacheron Constantin. There were only so many people with those specific initials that could also afford such luxuries. They would find him out with fifteen minutes.

“Aguilera, right?” he asked after a moment, interrupting Casey. “Sorry, I-” He shrugged and looked at Casey with a grin. “Did he have a nice watch or something? What’s made you think lifting those is our next score?”

Carter raised his sleeve a little and flipped his wrist over, making sure the watch was secure. “We’d have to practice. We don’t lift enough to think we could get away with it with everyone.”

He stood back up and stepped over to Casey. “You want to slip ones with hooking bands?” he asked, showing off his own, “Or all metal? Because I can identify a quality watch, but a Patek Philippe or something like my father gave me? They have alligator bands and they’re not going to come off as easy as something from your local jewelers. Aguilera will have us within a week.”

"I don't see why that would have to be a no to the takeout," Casey mused, thinking it through. "We use fake names, we have clean aliases on the house, and as long as we pay and tip average, we won't be remembered." Casey glanced at the pristine couch that Carter was sitting in and then at his paint-stained shirt. He wasn't sure if the paint was all dry, so Casey decided to strip it off and leave it on the plastic covering the floor beneath his easel.

Throwing an arm around Carter's shoulders, Casey sighed softly. "Coffee shop," he admitted. "I tried to pay it forward without thoroughly checking the line. Mistake. Because he must have recognised me and decided to take me up on the offer. But you know, I think it's worse for a fed to take a coffee from someone he's convinced steals for a living."

"Nah, he didn't have a nice watch," Casey said, glancing down to Carter's wrist. "I just thought they'd be easy to swipe, but... the really good ones aren't then?" Casey reached for Carter's hand, turning it over to eye the latch on the watch. But, he'd have to be on his absolute best game to lift it without Carter noticing, and if the expensive watches were harder? It wasn't his best plan, he'll admit.

"Strike watches," Casey decided, bringing Carter's wrist up to kiss his skin softly. "We'll stick with wallets for spare change and double down on the forgeries. Nastya is getting us connections with the art scene in town, and it's better for her to do it than you or me. I always come across as an expert who knows too much, and you come across, no offence, as a novice with little knowledge to be of note.

[casey-n-callaghan]

fbisms·:

"You’d be surprised what their activities involve. You do look like the type to enjoy that.” Rory stared at the other trying to gage how he’d go about it. He was smart enough to know when he was taken for a ride. He recognized the tactic before when he had to be a shady shit before.

“Is that so? No I haven’t gotten around to check that out. We should go? After all buying me coffee is the staple for a friendship wouldn’t you agree?”

"Oh?" Casey asked, an innocent expression on his face. "Is there something about the Cayman's that I don't know? Here I thought it was for wealthy men to hide their money and hapless tourists looking for a nice beach holiday. It sounds like you see a whole different side of it. Are you one of those wealthy rich men that's hiding money? Cause if you are and you still let me buy you a coffee, I'm going to be very disappointed in you, buddy."

"Are we friends now?" Casey echoed, tilting his head to the side. "It's a surprise to me. I don't even know your name, and here you are, acting like you know exactly who I am when I haven't even told you what I do for a living."

[casey-n-callaghan]

Task 001 - Inside The Muse’s World

Dwelling

  Casey doesn’t have a true, permanent home. He has countless safe houses across the country and a few outside of the country. But currently, he’s residing in his Denver safehouse. Carter was the primary driving force behind the house. Of the two of them, Carter has the higher standards with living spaces. The house itself is large and opulent and is decorated in a clean, white modern style. Casey has transformed one of the bedrooms into his studio and covered the white carpet with plastic to preserve its pristine condition. View pictures of Casey and Carter’s safehouse here: https://casey-n-callaghan.tumblr.com/residence 

Hobbies

  The only hobby that Casey has time to indulge in his art. He’s always loved drawing and painting, and he’s turned it into a career of sorts. He’s been painting forgeries since college, and he plans to continue the habit. It makes them money, and he enjoys doing it.

Pets

  The only pet that Casey has ever had was a goldfish when he was a kid. His mother wasn’t the keenest animal lover and, as such, never wanted a dog or cat in her house. As an adult, Casey is well aware that his lifestyle doesn’t suit an animal. He wouldn’t mind a dog, but he knows that travelling like he does isn’t conducive to having a pet.

Favourite Possession

  Casey doesn’t have a lot of material attachment to his possessions. He’s prepared to lose and leave nearly everything at a moment’s notice with little regret. He does, however, have a safe house at an undisclosed location containing the collection of paintings and art that he decided he didn’t want to resell. What may or may not be at said location is Casey’s business to know and law enforcement to try to find out.

Desires

  Ultimately, Casey’s main desire is not to go to prison. Given what he’s done and what he plans to do going forward, he knows it’s more likely than not that he’ll be caught eventually, but he really would like not to go to prison. If he can’t avoid it, then he’ll do everything in his power to keep *Carter out of prison. Casey believes that he’s better suited to prison than his partner.

[casey-n-callaghan]

kotakang·:

dakota smiled and nodded her head when the other had mentioned that he had gone to art school. “oh that’s awesome though, so you must know a lot about the arts and paintings and all that.” she commented and gave him a soft smile as she listened to him. 

while cleaning a bit around the are she was told to clean up, she looked up at the painting he had gestured to and eyed it while he spoke about it. while he did so, she nodded her head let out soft ooh’s and ah’s at what he was saying. “wow seems like you know a lot about a painting.” it was interesting with how much he knew and how little she knew well more so didn’t really have an interest art or knowing much about painters and artists. 

Casey shrugged. "You pick up a few things in a four-year art program," he explained and shrugged. "I always liked my art history classes. The history behind the art is... beyond interesting to me."

"I've never seen it before today," Casey admitted. "I know a bit about the artist. We learned about Morisot as one of the impressionists in my impressionism class. And the rest, if you know about brushstrokes, you can piece it together from there." He gestured at it. "Look at the faces. You can see that they're blank. And you can see the individual bristles in the paint still."

[casey-n-callaghan]

fbisms·:

If Rory’s facial expression told a story it was that he thought he was full of shit but he wasn’t going to make a scene in the middle of a busy coffeeshop. He smiled as he nodded his head and thought this was a small little break in one of his cases. “Jasper.” Rory murmured, clearly not buying it but still bit. “What are you doing around these parts? I could have swore maybe you’d be half way around the world or in the Cayman’s or something removed from society.” He looked around and sighed. “Lots of people here. Lots of chances to bump, meet people. You don’t look like the type to love being in crowded places.”

Casey hummed thoughtfully. "I'm sorry, I think you have me confused with someone else," he said, giving the fed a fake smile. "But you know, a holiday in the Cayman's does sound nice. But then… they don't have the same kind of activities." 

Casey grinned. "You know what's fascinating about Denver?" he asked, intending to incriminate himself on a job he wasn't planning on pulling. "There's a U.S. Mint right here in town. Have you been on the tour? Watching how they print money is fascinating."

[casey-n-callaghan]

caly-echolls·:

Caly was on her way to work. She had just stopped into the coffee shop for her morning order on her way to the hospital. “Are you sure?” Caly said with a smile. “Okay, I’ll have a large cold brew with a splash of cream. Thanks.” While she waited for her cup she placed her hand in the pocket of her lab coat. “Was it the coat or were you just feeling generous?”

Humming softly, Casey shrugged as he looked the woman over. "Could be the coat," he said with a smile. "Could be that I was feeling generous. But more likely, I saw a beautiful woman and thought I could find an excuse to talk to you." 

Casey gave her a winning smile, taking her cup when it was placed at the end and offering it to her. "It sounds cheesy, I know," he said, grabbing his own coffee. "But beautiful, intelligent women both intrigue and intimidate me, so I always feel like I need an excuse to talk to them. I'm Casper Chandler." Casey held out his hand politely.

[casey-n-callaghan]

kotakang·:

working at the museum had its perks. during her break, she was allowed to wander around for a little bit to admire the artwork or just to clean up around the area of which people have left things that should be in the garbage. dakota was one who liked to keep things neat and clean, especially around her work place. sure she may only work in the gift shop, but if she’s needed, she’ll help around the main floor. there are times where she’ll just stand and admire the artwork before heading back intot he gift shop. it wasn’t too busy today but there was still quite a bit of people looking around. 

while she was cleaning up one area, she heard someone speak to her causing her to move aside, “oh i’m sorry.” she told him and gave him a small smile before continuing what she was doing. while doing so, she glanced up at the male then back at the art he was looking at, “are you a fan of the art or are you just someone who comes in on a day where you have nothing else to do?” she questioned knowing there were some people like that. 

Casey hummed softly. "I went to art school," he admitted, looking at the paintings. He had always loved art, even as a young boy. "I've always had a soft spot for baroque, but Impressionism will always be a favourite too." 

Casey gestured at The Lesson in the Garden. "Take Morisot, for example," he continued, eyeing the painting. "She learned to paint when her parents expected her and her sister to have knowledge of the arts. She did this one with painterly brushstrokes, with oil paint applied thickly to the point that you can see each of her brushstrokes. And she used impasto as well, which is the raised portions with the thickness of paint." Casey paused, smiling. "And in true impressionist-style, the people in the painting don't have faces."

[casey-n-callaghan]

@kotakang​

Casey's last attempt to case the museum ended with him being volunteered for a charity auction, so he came back. He had his hands shoved into his pockets as he walked, looking at the art hanging at the wall. They had a Monet, a Van Gogh, and even a Morisot. It had been a while since Casey had done a Morisot. 

He pulled up his phone and googled The Lesson in the Garden, checking to see if there was a good image to copy before deciding to be safe and snapping a picture of the painting with his phone as well. Casey made a show of reading the nameplates of the artwork and even snapped a few pictures of other canvases so he wouldn't seem too suspicious. "Excuse me," Casey said as he stepped around a young woman, doing his best idle patron routine.

[casey-n-callaghan]

@hcathcn​

Casey hadn't meant to be registered for the museum's charity auction date thing. He'd only gone to the museum to case it, see which paintings they had on display and which he thought they could replace with his fakes. But somehow, he got roped into the event, and now he had a date with a young lady that he knew nothing about. 

He'd thought about cancelling but realising that Carter had gotten a date too, well, they agreed it would be suspicious if both of them cancelled. And if Carter was dating someone else, Casey wasn't going to let him be the only one. He had to stay in practice in case Nastya or Carter weren't the mark's type, and Casey was. 

Casey had agreed to meet Dezzie at one of the nicer restaurants in town, and he'd brought along some of the money skimmed out of the wallets he pulled. It might have been in bad taste to pay for a date with ill-gotten funds, but Casey and Carter had been doing that for years. He smiled at the young woman that approached him. "Dezzie, right?" Casey said, holding out his hand in greeting. "I'm Andras, but you can call me Andy."

[casey-n-callaghan]

carter-jm-collingswood·:

“How close is almost?” Carter asked, toeing off his shoes by the door before he went to see what Casey was working on. “It’s due by next Thursday,” he said, walking behind Casey. “You always turn into a moody ass when the deadline is nearing. You know you’re gonna have it ready. Don’t do that.”

He waited till Casey had stepped away from the painting and taken off his glasses to reach up and massage his shoulders. 

“I lifted three wallets and somehow still ended up with under a hundred dollars,” Carter announced with a shake of his head. “No joke. All target demographics and yet one had fifty, one had thirty-six, and one had an actual IOU note if you can believe that. And this guy looked like he was gonna be the biggest score of the three so that was incredibly discouraging. I just whipped my prints and dropped it a few feet behind him and then got his attention and told him he dropped it. What else was I supposed to do with that?”

He cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders. “Anyway, if you want to order take out, it’s on me provided it’s under eighty-six dollars.”

"I don't always turn into a 'moody ass'," Casey grumbled, rubbing his eyes as he leaned back against Carter. "I only get moody when you want attention when I have a deadline to meet and a lot of work left to do. You know I love giving you attention, but you also know that this stuff is where we make the most of our money." Casey had forged paintings, bonds, even counterfeited bills on rare occasion. The latter was the hardest and was often more trouble than it was worth. 

"That's slightly worse than the wallet I lifted at the coffee shop the other day," Casey lamented. "He wasn't the target demographic, and the read I did said it was a bad pull. But you know that I've been wrong before. So I lifted his wallet to check. All he had was a five-dollar bill, taped together with scotch tape." Casey shook his head in disbelief. "The glossy kind, baby. Glossy scotch tape. I felt like I had to give him money before I slipped the wallet back." 

Casey sighed. "We might have to start swiping things like watches," he mused. "Hard to track, decent resell value if we get a good watch. But… we also have to be careful not to draw too much attention." Casey rubbed at his eyes a moment. "You remember that fed that had us in for questioning just after the Rembrandt thing? He's here." 

He paused to let that sink in. "He still doesn't have anything solid against us," Casey said, unsure really, but he felt confident considering he wasn't presently in jail or prison. "Don't give him any. I know we talked about how fun a jailbreak would be, but I do not want to have to break you out. I'd rather you be safe with me instead."

[heavenverging-deactivated202111]

[casey-n-callaghan]

@carter-jm-collingswood

[casey-n-callaghan]

fbisms·:

Coffee shops were not Rory’s usual haunts but his partner wanted to go to this specific one. Work had piled up on his desk which made him incredibly irritable every waking day he had to go in. He hadn’t seen Caly for two days, granted he knew she was working and so was he but he missed when they could chill and not think about anything or anyone. He hated how cheerful his partner was and that was another thing that added to his irritation.

So there he was idly scrolling his phone counting down the minutes until they left went back to base. His partner was right behind a taller guy but that didn’t make Rory’s head snap up. The voice did. Oh did he have that voice ingrained in his mind. Slowly he looked up not wanting to bring attention to the fact that he was a little too familiar with this voice. While his partner said no to the drink, Rory brought himself out into view and accepted the offer. “Yeah I’ll take an espresso. Gotta keep awake and aware you know. One of those days.” He cased his surroundings and the other guy’s stance. Nothing out of the ordinary to the naked eye but oh Rory knew better than to trust only his sight.

Casey's entire body froze. He should have been paying more attention. He should have minded both the people behind him before offering the coffee. Casey knew that man's face. Fuck. Rory Aguilera, FBI Agent and possibly the only man in the entire city that could identify Casey. Denver was supposed to be safe. 

Forcing a smile onto his face, Casey nodded to the barista and passed over cash from his own wallet, leaving Arthur's wallet stashed in his jacket pocket. He wasn't going to risk touting a stolen wallet with Rory fucking Aguilera standing right there. Casey thought about throwing out an alias, but Rory would recognise him. He didn't have the luxury to believe that the other man would have forgotten when Casey still very much remembered him. 

Instead, Casey gave him a nod as he headed down the bar to wait for his coffee. "I'm Jasper," he settled on. Jasper Jairus was an alias he'd used before. If he was going to use one, he might as use one that was already burned. The Agent would know him no matter what he said.

[casey-n-callaghan]

suttonishere·:

Sutton glanced over at the older male as he approached, something inside of them tingling with cautious vibes, perking them up so they were paying better attention to their surroundings. They heard the zipper sound from their backpack and shifted away. “Thanks. I must have forgotten in my tiredness.” They lied, glad they didn’t have anything obviously valuable within it. Tucked away at the bottom, beneath a change of clothes and a textbook and notebook was the only thing of value. Their treasured knife set. It wasn’t the best that money could buy but it was out of their budget when they applied for school, forcing them to ask their older brother for the rest of the money just to cover the knife set. Not to mention the chefs uniforms that were required and special kitchen shoes. “I’m fine. It’s really not that far.” They lied, not wanting this stranger to know where they lived.

Casey looked them over a moment. He recognised that caution. That was New Yorker caution. He smiled warmly. "If you really don't need help, I won't," he allowed, figuring it best to let the other person call the shots. "But you're also welcome to search me to make sure I don't have any weapons. I'm Lucas Ludwig, off-duty police officer." He had his fake badge on him today. He didn't always. He pulled it and showed them. "See? That's me, right there," Casey explained, gesturing at the small portrait. "I might be off-duty, but I'd like to make sure you make it home safe. Do you have someone I can call if that makes you feel more comfortable?"

[casey-n-callaghan]

@carter-jm-collingswood​

Casey leaned forward towards the canvas. He wasn't the biggest fan of having to paint with old-style oil paints. But he was working on a recreation of Monet's The Poppy Field, and he had to get it right, down to each individual little brush stroke. He didn't flinch when he heard the key turn and the door open. Only two people should have a key to their safehouse, and both of them were people he expected to see.

"Baby, if that's you, I'm almost done," Casey said, hoping to warn Carter off trying to touch him. Forgery required a delicate touch. He painstakingly added poppies to the field to mimic the reference he had clipped to his easel. "When did you say this needed to be ready? I'll need time to bake it, and you know that process can't be rushed."

Casey sat up then, adding the last poppy. He wasn't finished, but he would let it dry a bit before continuing, like an artist stopping for a snack. He pulled the glasses off his face and rubbed his eyes. They weren't prescription lens, simply magnifiers that helped him to see the tiniest of details. "Alright, break time," he declared, wiping his paint-stained hands on his painting t-shirt. "Get up to any trouble without me today?"

[casey-n-callaghan]

hcathcn·:

it was just a normal day for hue. he had been sitting on the street for hours. only one older couple had came to get their picture painted, and it was a sweet sight, but it wasn’t enough money to send him home for the day. he wished it wasn’t his day off, because at least that way he knew he was going to be making money for every hour he was there. 

he was just about to pack up and go home when the older gentleman walked up with his request. it was a bit of an odd one, but when he was the money flash in front of his eyes, his interest peaked. hue smiled, gingerly taking the money from the other. “you got it, boss.” he hummed softly, picking up the charcoal as he began to work. 

this was the worst part to doing street art in his opinion, because even if the other wasn’t, he still felt like he was judging every little thing he was doing. and it made him all the more nervous for it. but he held himself together, and drew the street corner. it took maybe 15 or 20 minutes to completely, but once he was done, he signed the bottom before holding for the other to see. “is this to your liking? or would you like some more detail added?” he asked. 

in all reality it was probably far better than what most could do in that small amount of time, but it helped that he had somewhat of a photographic memory, so he didn’t have to constantly keep looking up. he wasn’t blind to his skill, and there wasn’t a day he didn’t know that he was good.  he just couldn’t seem to find the right place where he fit in. 

Casey hummed appraisingly as he looked over the sketch. It wasn't bad for a quick charcoal drawing on a street corner. He looked it over critically, his artist's eye picking up on areas that the younger man had to grow yet and places where his skill was evident.

"Not bad," Casey said after he investigated the man's art. "You should have more people than you do. You're good." He paused, looking around. "Partially, maybe your location. There's not as much foot traffic here as there is down the street a way. But also, people rarely want to pay for their portrait to be painted when they could just ask someone to take their picture." That was a lesson that Casey had learned the hard way.

"The only real way to make money on your art is in the gallery circuit," Casey continued, nodding slowly. "But if you're an unknown artist, they aren't likely to hang your art unless you know someone. And even then, unless the owner themselves approve it, they may still remove it. Take it from me. You'll make the most money drawing and selling furry porn on the internet. It's uncomfortable, sure, but they have money and a willingness to spend it." He hadn't done that since Carter came up with the idea to replicate other artist's masterpieces, but that had been how Casey made rent during college.