HAIL, THE INVISIBLE HAND!

it was impossible to keep the scowl from his face... but it didn't help the fact that it was clear he was embarrassed more than he was angry. that was the reason he had been avoiding dimitri to begin with. tonight was supposed to be all about his image. he couldn't afford being confronted by the results of his severe lapse in judgement. that was exactly what it felt like. truth be told, it felt a lot like how this evening was beginning to go, too. his expression didn't change, hawkish. the fact that dimitri knew of his feelings on the matter, overstepping or otherwise, was not of much comfort to him. "i don't know what you're implying," he said, scowl drooping in favor of something more careful. another reason to request water instead of wine. "the presentation was what it was meant to be."

#( ft. katashi shibata )#( katashi shibata: 003 )#( event 002: coronado eterna )#dimitri vc katashi not being a good conversationalist? fork. kitchen.

Ah, the non-answer, his favorite Katashi-ism. Dimitri wants to laugh, but there's an order to these things; the precarious feeling of the propriety of Coronadan high society. There isn't a moment where eyes aren't on the both of them, and so they must dance and sing like the best of them. He assumes that Katashi's feet can still follow the byzantine movements, but Dimitri grows old, and with the night's events, he could barely care. For a second, he pats the man on the shoulder. A touch longer than is proper, of course, trying to express his sympathies. The Shibata name is a sharp blade that cuts through the din of Coronado, but its members, for all their posturing, are still flesh and blood. "Well, if the intense scrutiny of historical integrity of your banks are what was meant to be, then good job." Dimitri continues, "But if that isn't it, then tell me. I'm hardly a mind reader here. What, you still sore over me ferrying you into a cab or something?"

“What ‘bit’? This is the real deal, man,” he refutes, though his showmanship all but shows that he is, in fact, not the real deal. Truthfully, the last few months have been so goddamn stressful for his family that he hasn’t been able to live as freely as he’d like to. How was River supposed to know that a premier dying and a vice premier disappearing would have such catastrophic effects on a country? (Though it could entirely be a him problem that he doesn’t see politicians as people. His father included.) Nevertheless, River continues to tease, “It’s above your pay grade, let’s just say.” And yet, he continues, “Unless you wanna hear about my relationship problems? Because, actually, I could use some advice. You’ve been married before, right?”

#( ft. river masten )#( river masten: 003 )#( event 002: coronado eterna )

Above his pay grade. Dimitri gives him a smile—a rare occurrence, seeing as River only made Dimitri's cardiologist rich on doctor's appointments, but even he can appreciate the irony of it. Just a little. Youth and power makes River prideful, but it won't be him that dissuades the man of the notion. He has to think about the future, sad as it may be, and focus on putting out potential fires that may start because of this goddamned legislation.

"I have." Thrice. Only once happily, the other two were in a fugue state of unhappiness and loneliness, but it's nothing that River needs to know about. "Don't tell me you're going to settle down, Masten. If you need financial advice about a wedding, I'm going to go jump off a pier."

directart

He's long since occupied a strange place in her mind. They're not friends in the traditional sense—but then, they never have been the hair-braiding and secret-swapping types. She trusts him far more than most people in her life, sometimes, maybe even more than her husband himself. Yet she knows what he's like at the same time. Knows that he's cynical and self-destructive and spiteful.

He knows her, too. More than she'd like him to, in all honesty. He's one of the few who remembers when her drink of choice was cheap scotch, not for any lack of finances, but for the look. When her hair was wild and untamed and an unmentionable colour, and her clothes belied a sort of grungy rebellion that only money could buy. He introduced her to Rafael, for God's sake! No, Luci is not fool enough to act like she can trust him any further than she can throw him, but she will always appreciate that he is not one of the yes-men that she finds herself so often surrounded by.

"Dumbo," The immature little nickname filters through lipsticked mouth, nothing like fondness or nostalgia clinging to it: one might almost think it sounded like a warning, but surely not. Not between two old friends, with such a tumultuous, storied history. His compliment is heard, noted, appreciated, as has all praise that's been levelled at her so far tonight, whether it's empty or not. She gives a little noise of acknowledgement, not quite a hum but not yet a verbalisation. "Oh, the kids are doing well. Busy little bees, all of them, you know what it's like." Except that he doesn't, a fact Luciana is well aware of. "Have you been enjoying yourself?"

#( ft. luciana del bosque )#( luciana del bosque: 001 )#oh he knows luci's ego dw about it <3 #dimitri is losing health the longer this night goes on #old man chip damage

Ah. The minor jab at the fact that his singular stint in parenting resulted in a daughter far from Coronado's shores—safe, but away from whatever rot that Dimitri grew accustomed to. A low blow. Unexpected, but not out of the norm. Even niceties in the presence of the famed Luciana Del Bosque is certainly something to behold; it makes him feel the disparity between them. She was born to power: he merely clawed his own way to it. Dimitri simply takes a sip of his drink, waved down from what he can only assume is a finely paid waiter, and sighs. Has he been enjoying himself? Certainly not, if recent events are any indication. "The news has put a bit of a pall over everyone's mood, but I'm just looking at the restructured paperwork I might have to fill out soon." It's a joke. A poorly constructed one, perhaps, but Dimitri isn't exactly in the mood to be jovial right now. "I do have to say, it's certainly a forward move." His eyes find Premier Cervantes, talking to some ingenue, then tracing back over to the Vice Premier Montes, politicking to their heart's content. "Given the last people on the seats they're on got assassinated then disappeared, I didn't expect these two to make waves." It's a question, in the middle of the statements, one that Dimitri would love the answer to. At least, it would help his peace of mind to know if he needed to brace for impact.

oh, no. the exact person he didn't want to see. apparently, his escape with fumiko had been short-lived. a master of surprise himself, katashi should have seen the ambush coming. he had known, of course, that his name had been on the invitation list. katashi had also known that it was impossible for him not to attend. a reunion between them was practically inescapable. perhaps even literally. fate itself continued to shuffle them back together. "if i have any more to drink..." he trailed off, grimacing—a little more than he already was, at any rate. but he didn't much want to reference what had happened the last time he had overindulged. embarrassing. unused to the sensation, it left a deep score through his brain. "maybe just some water." some fresh air, too... but that was something better left to himself, long after the festivities had concluded.

#( ft. katashi shibata )#( katashi shibata: 003 )#dimitri vc damn assassin boy... why the long face?

"Don't worry, I'll watch your alcohol intake. Can't have you falling into a cab again," he teases, shaking his head. It's a refreshing look to Katashi, to know that the man wasn't all sharp blades and grimacing, hiding a small bit of vulnerability underneath it all, even if it's only uncovered by drink. He should get the guy drunk more often—it looks like he needs it, anyway. And even if he didn't it amuses Dimitri either way, what you call a win-win. He waves for some water, given to them in perfect glass as Dimitri takes a simple flute of roving bubbly for himself; something to tempt Katashi, should the night call for it. "Well, either I'm bad company, or someone's childhood pet just died," he says, taking a sip of his drink, "I know that this might be overstepping to you, but how you feeling? The, ah, presentation can't exactly have gone down smoothly."

“D!” River grins, “I thought you keeled over on your way here.” As they talk, he keeps them both walking as far away from where he came. “Don’t mind that backroom stuff; it’s honestly boring business—work got you busy?”

#( ft. river masten )#( river masten: 003 )#perfect.... personally #also business work coming from river in the same sentence is insane #(to dimitri)

Don't mind that backroom stuff. As if he wasn't the one handling the Masten family finances—but sure, if it's the man's drug habits or some other illicit activity, he'll be sure just put that in the big, red, glowing folder that he labels River Masten's expenses in his work computer. He's not his friend, or at least, he's not trying to be; the kid acts like his ex-husband off a coke binge, and he'd already wasted his fifties trying to deal with those types of shenanigans. "Some junior moron tried something stupid back at the office. I have half a mind to dock his pay for the inconvenience, but that's against the laws." At least, not as big as when his office was tossed, like a robbery but sure. Dimitri, however, looks at him curiously, a new expression he's learning to give River these days. "But business? Really—you're committing to this bit hard huh, kid? What kinda boring business you got back there?"

for @directart—

He's known the King and Queen for a long time—he'd known Luciana back when she didn't dye her hair and was prone to smoking near the docks, reeking of privilege and poor judgement. It was one of the things that drew him to her. Not the bad judgement of course, but the magnetism that the out-of-place woman had developed, lurking by the seaside night after night, with Rafael following so soon after. So, it would at least behoove the both of them, if not their history, the professionalism that was afforded to Dimitri as to what exactly the hell was going on right now.

There was no mistaking that the two leaders of Coronado were Del Bosque marks—and not even subtle marks. Hell, if Dimitri were to guess, they were as subtle as raining mortar on the streets of Genta. It was shameless, and these new proposals raised some eyebrows, if not outright painted targets on their backs. Was Rafael having a stroke? Did Luciana suddenly develop dementia? Everything else didn't matter except the bottom line, and with these new changes, it was sure to be an upheaval that people did not like.

"Lucky," he says, using the old nickname with no affection, a dagger cutting through the noise to bring them both back to attention. "It's such a lovely evening." Pleasantries. Manners. A waste of time when he thinks about the sellos burnt every second that the new changes take place, but a dance he's obligated to perform. "How are the kids?"

#( ft. luciana del bosque )#( luciana del bosque: 001 )#( event 002: coronado eterna )#in my head he calls them the king and queen #because they act like it. not because of any held beliefs <3

for @taileaten—

There's always a certain charm when it comes to fancy events, sponsored by one of the wealthier families, but even he can't spin whatever the hell this is. It was as if he was tasked to stop a bomb, sitting on its own dead man's switch—Dimitri felt his age, the years catching up to him quicker and quicker as the night progressed, letting his own body slow in order to at least catch himself up to the night's events. It should make him ecstatic, but the faces of the big names and players looking like they'd swallowed lemons did nothing to ease his nerves.

It was hard, at least, but even he didn't look as miserable as Katashi—the man who, not too long ago, Dimitri had ferried, a little trashed, into a waiting taxi. Ironic then, that he was the glimmer of hope in an otherwise caustic night; if everything blew up now, at least Dimitri could tell himself he enjoyed the the burning debris as it rained down onto the partygoers.

"Katashi Shibata. Looking as glum as always," he teases, giving him a small nod. "Anything I can do to help the night go down smooth? More veal? More drink? Worse beer? I hear they're serving the good stuff, but if you ask me, the good stuff runs out too fast."

#( ft. katashi shibata )#( katashi shibata: 003 )#kael vc DIMITRI LOCK... ON!

for @misflung—

Dimitri is late.

In his defense, he was actually thirty minutes early before some idiot tripped the alarms, promptly making him do a dangerous U-turn out of the gates and speed as fast as he could into the office. He still remembers that last bit of business—papers tossed and important files stolen as of recent, though he'd tried to go on the offensive about that, to no avail. So, armed with the knowledge of his building and a pistol with enough power to give his fingers fractures—he had come to at least try to solve a burgeoning problem, which quickly became evident was simply the new hire trying to get a couple of things back in a locked building. A poor excuse, but at least it would have to do.

So he skips the red carpet, he skips the hobnobbing and fills his seat with muttered apologies, only to choke on the plans for the so-called New Coronado. It was as if someone had tried to trot up a prized showdog onto the podium and had it piss on the judges, with audience expected to clap. Every second word, he tries to look at Rafael or Luciana, but his seat is too far down to notice. As a remedy then, when it's polite, he at least takes a break, tells a busboy to give him a tiny bottle of that shitty salt-air swill and he lets the breeze try to soothe his headache.

It was bad luck then, that he'd managed to locate himself near River Masten, coming out of a room, as charming and debonair as he presumes to be. It takes a meeting of the eyes before he drinks the whole thing, and tosses it over the side of the fence. Ostensibly, onto a cliff.

"River," he says with a poisonous smile. "Didn't fancy seeing you here. At least not with enough horse tranq to keep a glue factory shut down. You coming out of something fun out of that room, or did you just get bored?"

#( ft. river masten )#( river masten: 003 )#( event 002: coronado eterna )#do not match length. please GOD.

1wayd0wn

Rafael studies Dimitri's response closely, as if searching for something that could not be found.

Would he? He wonders, and the doubt is balanced evenly between them. Or have they just been fortunate enough to never have to make that choice? Yes, Dimitri says what he knows, but what he knows wasn't enough anymore. It was not the time to be sentimental over decades of friendship, and he couldn't take comfort in it just yet.

There's a long and drawn out pause, as Rafael takes a sip of his drink then glances heavenwards towards the sun. His steps carry him toward the ivory arbours where the Jade Vines would grow. He could brush this all off with a joke about their old age, or he could point to where the white moth had landed on his shoulder -- a bad omen, he believed, about unexpected betrayals, or he could just tell him the truth.

Instead, what he settles on, after some silence is: "Have you spoken to Giorgio lately?"

#( ft. rafael del bosque )#( rafael del bosque: 001 )#love being depressed n writing about it <3

The silence doesn't give him any confidence in his current working relationship with Rafael. It should hurt less, after all, he knows what the deal is between the two of them. Head of a large, influential family, and nobody accountant that keeps his books. But even so, it stings, like citrus on an open wound, making the lines by the corners of his mouth only deepen with unease. He would hope that he was at least treated with some sort of veneer of friendship, however loosely friable it might be. Perhaps it was too much to hope for it. After all, they're hardly the young men they were before. "Have I spoken with—" To business, then. He searches his mind for a meeting, and he huffs. The name sounds familiar, and he shakes his head. Grigorio—someone in Rafael's circle, nothing too notable, if he were to be honest. "No, I don't work for him, and he doesn't employ anyone in my office," Dimitri responds handily, trying to see where this thread leads the both of them. "Is there anything I should be flagging, Rafael?"

“Unsurprising to hear that you’re invested in my love life like everybody else,” River grins, “I’ll send you real-time updates myself—no need to watch out for the del Bosque tabloids.” He really, really can’t help it. It’s as if it’s in his DNA makeup to rouse anger. It’s better than drugs, really. But then, he frowns. More business talk. Serious business talk. He crosses his arms. “That depends—is it the kind of report that’ll make him gulp down the 35-year-old bottle of whiskey in his office in one sitting? Because that might not help my current sentence.” Nevertheless, he’s still curious. “Or is it more of a… du Bois thing?”

#( ft. river masten )#( river masten: 002 )

"It's something that'll try to get him out of a certain hole the country's in." To be honest—it's all future projections and stock market values, but even Dimitri can hope for the best, even if wishful thinking's all he's got. Not to mention several offshore accounts, but the only people counting those are the Chancellors that poke their noses in his business. Frankly, he worries that the sello might tank, but he won't be able to do anything about it, at least not unless he can manage to harangue some of the most powerful people to act for a collective good. "Kid," he chides, looking at River with a bit of exasperation. "What do you mean a du Bois thing? You know better than anyone not to kiss and tell."

"interesting," he parroted, half snort. "you can't possibly think there's anything interesting about me." katashi put nothing into his outer life beyond beyond the exoskeleton he wore, a cloak spun from his family's shadow. it was his inner life that he kept vibrant and alive and perfectly alone, all to himself. he could always predict what happened there. here, in the real world, intensely drunk, he couldn't predict anything at all. why did dimitri try so hard to know him? right on cue, katashi scowled. it was the most practiced expression he had in his roster, well-used. often used. "i've been fine." obviously, seeing as he was trashed in an equally trashy ( compared to the luxury he was used to ) bar.

#( ft. katashi shibata )#( katashi shibata: 002 )#love kt's mystique but also the fact that he's fucking shitfaced rn

"Please. You're a Shibata—you're basically half-mystery. What's not interesting about that?" It's true, for all the time that they've spent being neighbors, he only knows that Katashi's financial records are impeccably clean and always on time, and that he dislikes his dog. Other than that, the man is hardly an open book with classic lines such as 'Hello.' and 'Goodbye.' and even the classic withering silence coupled with a pronounced scowl. Been fine. It's a start, and Dimitri takes his drink down, the burn of it settling in his gut nicely. At least he isn't shut out this time; if all it takes was a drink to get Katashi to talk, Dimitri might have to haunt more bars than he should. "Been fine, huh? Been fine as in it's bad now, or been fine as in everything's fucked? I'd love a baseline, in case I need to call you a cab somewhere."

Did… did this grandpa just tell me to fuck off? River blinks at Dimitri once. Then twice. “Whoa.” Is all he can manage, though it’s still inevitably followed by a shit-eating grin that can only come from someone as bored and demented and pitiful as River. This early in the day, too. “C’mon, don’t get your granny panties in a twist! We’re buddies, D!” He tries to posture himself, straightening his shoulders a bit more, puffing out his chest a bit more—as if they do fuck all to bring levity to the situation. He got what he wanted, anyway. The stupid pieces of paper that serve as his bail. “I’ll forgive you for not thinking I’m not pretty enough—that’s a lie and we both know it. There’s always a part of everyone’s brain that’s attracted to guys like me. It’s genetics. It’s why we like watching car crashes.”

#( ft. river masten )#( river masten: 002 )#ah river dimitri. what a pair. [horror]

He's at least grateful that his kid didn't turn out like River—from what he knows, at least. Not enough for the holiday cards or the few phone calls he gets, but if there are gods that listen to anyone, Dimitri offers a silent prayer of thanks. If he was a praying man, he'd make offerings, but even he can't remember how to do that, so he settles for closing his eyes and taking a second. Car crash is at least a good enough metaphor for how he views River, given his habits, but he at least composes himself well enough not to hurl it back at him. And in a sense, River already knows anyway, why even restate the obvious? "Thanks." He says, as dry as dunes of desert sand, levelling him with less digsust than before. Dimitri can't place it, but he feels like this act is way too familiar to his liking. "I'll try to remember that the next time you try to hit on someone." Fingers type fast, a quick e-mail popping up and sent, as his eyes see the line of Coronado stocks fall, the lines on his face almost deepening in response. The death rattle of Coronado. "If you're playing errand boy, by the way," he says, "I have an expense report for your father. And projections. Unless you want to listen to them, you want to make yourself useful and hand it over to him, or should I get my assistant to do it?"

although his expression wavered, it was still far from the welcoming faces he'd seen on others'. none of that ever had a place on him, not when the rage within had become so powerful. all he could manage to relate to other people anymore was this—existing in the peripheral of it. dimitri's desire for positive connection felt like sandpaper against his soul. how did fumiko do this? live on the mainland, engage with others? he would never understand it. katashi's phone went back into his pocket. "why do you want to know?" he asked, just shy of derisive. he didn't understand what they were doing here at all—beside him, of course, not in the location at large. maybe he was just so surprised to see him that he couldn't help but take a look... but that thought only irritated him. "it doesn't matter."

#( ft. katashi shibata )#( katashi shibata: 002 )

He takes it in stride—Dimitri always had something up his sleeve for Katashi's obvious disdain for other people. He won't start on him, or at least say anything horrible, but gives him a sharp eyebrow raise. "I want to know because it's interesting, and I don't have anything else to do," he says frankly, teasingly. The booze fills him with enough warmth, enough strength to be at least a little cheekier to the man. Or at least, a little more than usual. "At least tell me how my most punctual client's been," Dimitri continues, waving his glass around and gesturing to the man. He always filed neatly, consisely, and with no mess. The Shibatas always did give him some relief. "Or are you content with sitting down and scowling?"

"that's not my name," he grumbled, not looking up from the smart flip phone ( yes, that one ) in his hand. despite coming for company, he still hadn't figured out how to let himself go. his first guess was that he needed more to drink. so far, the only thing that came out of his mouth was more venom. "and for your information... i can do whatever i want." his scowl morphed into more of a grimace. "i don't need you to pay for my drink, either."

#( ft. katashi shibata )#( katashi shibata: 002 )#katashi PLEASE take it easy.

"You don't, but I still will. It's called being nice. It might be a novel concept to you. But, people actually do it when they want to form positive connection." It's hard to think about Katashi without laughing a little about how the man acts. It's almost as if kindness and niceties are a foreign concept—it can't be the upbringing, he supposes, since Fumiko acts normal, but then again, when was he ever right about people? Still, he waves off his grimace and shakes his head, shooting a look at the bartender about to hesitate putting it on his tab. "What does doing anything you want even look like for you?" Dimitri asks the question good-naturedly, handling his rocks glass with a light touch. "I barely see you out of your apartment."

1wayd0wn

A silent but subtle moment is shared between them. In their younger years, Rafael might've commented along the lines of: How could we ever afford that? Now, as Dimitri is in the business of balancing books, he settles on a telling glance. They don't pay import fees.

A breeze cuts through them, and Rafael rises to a stand just in time for a helper to arrive with the requested drinks on a tray. "Easier to keep alive than a Premiere, I presume." Glass in hand, he tips it towards Dimitri before taking a sip. His gaze returns to the camellias. They grow where he wants them to grow. With care, they stand tall and strong, and look only towards the sun. These days, it is more satisfying to spend his time in the gardens than inside his own home.

Then, a small shift, as Rafael approaches a line he has never crossed before. "Would you tell me, Dimitri?" A request for more trust than they bargained for. "Would you tell me if I had a target on my back?"

#( ft. rafael del bosque )#( rafael del bosque: 001 )#am i staring at that old man's chest? i plead the fifth

A morbid joke cuts across the air, letting Dimitri remember that yes, the nation was in a state of upheaval and yes, it might be someone from the major families that had done this. The sword waits and waits, until it falls and skewers him to the ground. He dreams about a tombstone, dying and being sent to one of the good cemeteries where his body can still smell the sea. Premier dies, stocks go red, people start to get stupid and try to do things that they shouldn't. Dimitri all but wonders when it falls, but he's shocked when Rafael says something vulnerable. Trust and vulnerability is hard to come by in the island, but he's an old man now, old enough to remember what both felt like and his face softens. "Raf." It's almost a nice tone, less gravel and more soothing than he should be able to manage given the circumstances. "I would, you know I would. And you'd do me the same, I figure." "But you're not saying something you shouldn't already know." He takes a sip of his drink calmly, and looks on at him, eyes searching for a tell—any tell. "You're head of the ruling arm of the family now. What's brought this on?"

starter for @stromaintic !!

watching out of the corner of his eye, katashi said nothing as dmitri took a seat beside him. it was his first time at the bar, but not his first time... indulging, as he was.