[ it is, by probably most vampires standards, still early. but raphael santiago prides himself on efficiency and productivity, and so he's not going to sleep away his early "mornings" even here in the city.
his internal clock is still wired to ring in time for proper cleanliness and sharp dress in his suite before he would make his way down to his office, awake early enough to tend to paperwork and organization in time for errant vampires or pestering shadowhunters to come streaming through the hotel dumort's doors. his life has consisted of something similar for the last few decades, and so it shouldn't be a surprise to him or anyone that knows him that his priorities aren't going to realign over night.
lately, his morning routine requires very little of him, a fact that magnus would like to call relaxing but raphael's opinion leans more into frustrating. if nothing else, he can devote even more of his time to cleaning himself up, hair kept immaculate and suits pressed, chasing the confidence he had exuded back home but seems to fall somewhat short of it's mark here in eudio. at least, in his own eyes. he's simply out of his element.
one thing that is not so terribly off-putting about this new structure is justin. it's odd in a way, sure, but there is something about justin messaging him late in the evening, when he's really just woken up, that forms a bridge between the living and the dead that he hadn't concerned himself with much before. night and day seem less like dueling concepts, like maybe he can exist in both of them at the same time.
it's new and familiar at once. he's adjusting.
the point is, justin is making it seem far easier than raphael had previously thought possible. and so when he receives justin's message, he feels... not quite happy—let's not go crazy—but hopeful is probably not a bad descriptor.
he sits in his kitchen, a mug of freshly warmed synthetic blood next to his elbow on the table and his phone in hand. ]
a quien madruga, dios le ayuda. or he who rises early, god helps. [ it's something he can remember his mother saying back he was still living—living—under her roof and it's a message he's clearly taken to heart. ]
[ as he waits for a reply, assuming raphael is even awake at all, justin takes a few minutes to double check that closing procedures were executed properly by his staff (his staff - it still sounds strange to him), making sure all entrances are locked and secure and that security systems are engaged appropriately where necessary.
everything seems brighter, more vibrant as he wanders, drifting from painting to painting and taking in the finer details he's never really noticed before for whatever reason. perhaps it's the lack of distraction, he thinks, the near silence and the ability to just stop and look and not worry about lingering too long or being in the way of someone else trying to appreciate the artistry.
justin's phone vibrates in his hand and he finds himself smiling faintly to himself without even having to check who it is. there aren't many people in eudio who he semi-consistently talks to at this hour (as if it's some ungodly hour and not late-evening/early night), and if he's honest, he's come to consider the few hours just after dusk as theirs - a pocket of time where two opposite worlds overlap and 'hello, good morning' isn't such a strange thing to say while the sun is setting. ]
A quien madruga. [ a kwee-en mah-droo-guh. he tries the words out on his tongue, confident that he more than likely butchered the pronunciation. he laughs at himself under his breath, still smiling slightly as he taps out a response, slowly wandering towards the front of the building. ]
Is there a saying for those who rise late? [ probably not, and if there is, it's probably not as inspirational. either way, justin's only being playful. ] The museum's open late tonight. Invitation only.
[ he sips thoughtfully at his "morning" meal, trying to decide if he knows any wise old sayings for rising late in spanish. seeing as that's usually not the ideal people preach, he comes up mostly short, except... ]
the second mouse gets the cheese?
[ that's the best he's got, justin. and maybe it's for the better. he does't want to be the one encouraging lazy habits; it just wouldn't be characteristic, for one thing. for another, neither of them are mice, and they aren't likely to run into any kind of life-threatening danger no matter what time they decide to get out of bed.
in the end, the point here is not early or late risers—not really—but rather the museum. raphael hasn't had the chance to visit justin's museum, though to be fair, he's had very view chances to visit any of the museums in eudio. only a special occasion had allowed him access to the observatory. everything else either closes not long after raphael could arrive or before the sun has even begun its descent.
it's not as though that's unusual for raphael, but he's never really had the time previously to be inconvenienced by evening closing times. while there are countless interesting places to visit back in new york, he was almost always preoccupied with more pressing matters than leisurely strolls through exhibits or parks. so forgive him if the idea of being given special access to the art museum after hours pleases him a little. ]
and i'm assuming that was a very unsubtle invitation?
[ he doesn't really see why justin would mention it if he didn't want raphael to come... ]
[ justin's brows raise a little at raphael's response, the corner of his mouth curling just slightly with mild amusement. definitely not quite as "inspirational" as being helped by god (apparently), but he did ask, and raphael typically isn't one to not come through, regardless of the topic or subject matter. ]
so you get a saying about god wanting to help people like you and i get dead mice and room temperature cheese. that seems a little extreme for wanting a little extra sleep.
[ also: morbid. but somehow, coming from raphael, it seems less so, which is kind of weird, but justin doesn't think about the possible reasons for why that is. instead, he absently sidesteps around a decently-sized sculpture in the middle of the gallery, his attention focused elsewhere - particularly, on his phone, and how to respond to the second part of raphael's mostly-expected reply. ]
was that not subtle? i did consider sending you a singing telegram but i'm not sure if that's even a thing people still do. also, nobody needs that when they've just woken up.
you should come. free admission if you teach me how to say that phrase in spanish.
the rewards for being lazy are going to be subpar, what can i say. you could always do the practical thing and go to sleep earlier.
[ except that would mean the time they have to spend together would probably be cut in half, and while raphael won't say it outright, he's not exactly pleased by that thought. perhaps justin can be excused for needing a few extra hours in the morning if it means he's sacrificing hours in the evening for raphael's sake. ]
i'm glad you decided against that. [ it's possible he smiles to himself, but he's also shaking his head, so maybe the two cancel each other out. he sets aside his mug and strides out to the main room of his apartment, sweeping up the jacket he'd laid out today from where it's draped over the couch and shrugging it on.
yes, he's going. ]
i'll make you a deal. free admission and a proper tour for a better phrase in spanish.
[ it's just a bit of teasing and not meant to imply that raphael doesn't have other friends. justin's almost certain that he does, now that he's gotten to know him a bit better. there's no way that other people don't also find him as intriguing and as weirdly charming as he does.
so what if he's been staying up a little later lately? it's not exactly as if he's in bad company.
justin smiles a little to himself as the last message comes in, and taps out a quick and confident reply. ]
that's all? i hope you're ready for the best tour you can find in eudio. and also, for me to butcher some spanish. i'll apologize for that one ahead of time. meet you out front?
[ and with that sent, justin slides his phone into his pocket and starts to make his way toward the main entrance, stopping by the information and ticket desk to swipe a museum guide that raphael probably won't need with justin there, but he wants to make sure he gets the full experience anyway.
flipping the lock on one of the main front doors so he can let himself out, justin steps outside to wait. ]
somehow, i'd find a way to survive. [ he shoots back, wry as ever. to be fair, though, it would take raphael a while to readjust to mornings without justin's cheery and terrible rise and shine messages which, no, has nothing to do with survival, but may or may not have something to do raphael's general well-being. he's accepted it without giving it more thought than he deems it deserves. ]
maybe you'll surprise us both and impress me.
[ raphael tucks his phone into his jacket, committed to this now, as if he wasn't before. of course, the museum is not too far from his apartment building, as most things are never really too far when vampire speed is at your disposal. once in the street, he takes off in the right direction, sweeping by pairs of people holding hands as they wander home and others who couldn't wait long enough to find some privacy and now kiss under streetlights. raphael doesn't pay anyone much more than a passing glance, but given the circumstances, he can't help the way his mind pinpoints the kind of meetings people tend to have at this hour, especially here in the city.
he slows just before the museum steps, glancing up at justin where he waits outside the doors. ]
Dime con quién andas, y te diré quién eres. [ he says as he climbs the stairs because apparently a simple hello lacks any real satisfaction. he repeats the phrase again, slower this time so justin can pay attention to the sound and shape of the words. he comes to a stop in front of justin, hands in his pockets. he's dressed for a business meeting or a high-class funeral or perhaps even a date, depending on what you want to see. which is probably true of the look raphael flashes, too, clearly expectant of something. ]
[ as it stands, justin has no plans of committing to an earlier bedtime, mostly because he's never really been one to turn in early (though early is relative in this case, specifically), but also because he's come to enjoy his evenings with raphael in them, even if it's just a back and forth of witty messages and, sometimes, talk of plans to meet up. early to bed and early to rise seems like less fun, and raphael doesn't have to know about the couple of times he's stayed up until sunrise, just to be able to say goodnight.
justin hasn't really forgotten about raphael's supernatural speed - it's one of the first new things he'd learned about vampires, back when they'd first met in person at pandemonium, something he filed away so he wouldn't forget -, but that doesn't mean he's not somewhat surprised to see him so soon. he hears his voice first, low and smooth and familiar, and lifts his head up from the pamphlet in his hand, reading it as if he doesn't have the entire thing memorized by now.
justin smiles at the sight of him, pleased by his attendance and a promise fulfilled. his lips part, and he's about to ask raphael to repeat the phrase slower for him, but raphael seems to read his mind before he can get the words out. he listens carefully, his eyes focused on raphael's mouth, on the shape of his lips as he pronounces each word for him, and repeats the words back to him under his breath for now. he'll have to run it through his head a few more times before he'll actually say it out loud. ]
I think it's plenty enough to get you in. [ he lifts his brows subtly, the corners of his mouth tugging a little with a soft smile as he reaches out to press the museum guide to the center of raphael's chest, fingertips grazing his dress shirt. it's soft against his skin and justin takes half a moment to look him over, not surprised in the slightest that he's dressed to impress. justin isn't quite so done-up, but he's not in jeans and a t-shirt, either. instead, he's dressed in black slacks and a dark navy button down, the sleeves cuffed at his elbows. work attire, seeing as he hasn't really left yet.
justin waits for raphael to take responsibility for the paper guide before he lifts his hand away, then moves to pull the only unlocked door open for him, stepping aside. ] But the quality of the tour depends on the quality of the phrase, and you haven't told me what it means.
[ the way justin's eyes dart up and down does not go unnoticed, but enough time spent together means raphael expects the subtle once over. it's possible raphael is guilty of the same kind of glance—he's never seen justin in work wear, dressed up just a little, the air of professionalism softened by the casual roll of his sleeves—but he makes a point of being especially secretive about it. he's not about to be caught staring.
justin presses the guide to his chest and raphael offers a look as he accepts it, like perhaps he means to say he knows they're on justin's turf now, but raphael's not about to let his guard down. what he's guarding against isn't exactly clear; this is just something they do, this give and take that sometimes results in raphael refusing to give or take anything. tonight, though, he might not be so concerned with avoiding the peculiar dance. ]
Do you torture all your patrons of the arts like this? [ he says as he follows justin through the door, pamphlet curled in hand. of course, he knows they had a deal and that makes him a special case, so he fully intends to fulfill his end of the bargain. ]
It means 'tell me who you spend time with, and I'll tell you who you are.' [ he offers as he peers appraisingly around the museum's foyer, and then finds justin's eyes again, judging his response. ] I'm sure that says something about you. Spending time with a vampire.
[ emphasis here on the word vampire, like maybe justin should consider just what that means. but raphael knows how justin feels; he's already proven that he's not particularly scared of what raphael is, despite the warning signs. and he knows, too, that when justin makes up his mind about something, he's not easily swayed. they have that in common. ]
Spending time with me. [ and he doesn't mean that in a self-deprecating way; that's clear from the smooth tone of voice. he more wants to recognize the rarity of that, of spending time with an acquired taste like raphael. and the rarity of raphael letting it happen. it all means something, surely, the mystery of which raphael leaves justin to contemplate as he passes him by, as if he intends to give himself that tour. ]
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his internal clock is still wired to ring in time for proper cleanliness and sharp dress in his suite before he would make his way down to his office, awake early enough to tend to paperwork and organization in time for errant vampires or pestering shadowhunters to come streaming through the hotel dumort's doors. his life has consisted of something similar for the last few decades, and so it shouldn't be a surprise to him or anyone that knows him that his priorities aren't going to realign over night.
lately, his morning routine requires very little of him, a fact that magnus would like to call relaxing but raphael's opinion leans more into frustrating. if nothing else, he can devote even more of his time to cleaning himself up, hair kept immaculate and suits pressed, chasing the confidence he had exuded back home but seems to fall somewhat short of it's mark here in eudio. at least, in his own eyes. he's simply out of his element.
one thing that is not so terribly off-putting about this new structure is justin. it's odd in a way, sure, but there is something about justin messaging him late in the evening, when he's really just woken up, that forms a bridge between the living and the dead that he hadn't concerned himself with much before. night and day seem less like dueling concepts, like maybe he can exist in both of them at the same time.
it's new and familiar at once. he's adjusting.
the point is, justin is making it seem far easier than raphael had previously thought possible. and so when he receives justin's message, he feels... not quite happy—let's not go crazy—but hopeful is probably not a bad descriptor.
he sits in his kitchen, a mug of freshly warmed synthetic blood next to his elbow on the table and his phone in hand. ]
a quien madruga, dios le ayuda. or he who rises early, god helps. [ it's something he can remember his mother saying back he was still living—living—under her roof and it's a message he's clearly taken to heart. ]
did you need something?
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everything seems brighter, more vibrant as he wanders, drifting from painting to painting and taking in the finer details he's never really noticed before for whatever reason. perhaps it's the lack of distraction, he thinks, the near silence and the ability to just stop and look and not worry about lingering too long or being in the way of someone else trying to appreciate the artistry.
justin's phone vibrates in his hand and he finds himself smiling faintly to himself without even having to check who it is. there aren't many people in eudio who he semi-consistently talks to at this hour (as if it's some ungodly hour and not late-evening/early night), and if he's honest, he's come to consider the few hours just after dusk as theirs - a pocket of time where two opposite worlds overlap and 'hello, good morning' isn't such a strange thing to say while the sun is setting. ]
A quien madruga. [ a kwee-en mah-droo-guh. he tries the words out on his tongue, confident that he more than likely butchered the pronunciation. he laughs at himself under his breath, still smiling slightly as he taps out a response, slowly wandering towards the front of the building. ]
Is there a saying for those who rise late? [ probably not, and if there is, it's probably not as inspirational. either way, justin's only being playful. ] The museum's open late tonight. Invitation only.
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the second mouse gets the cheese?
[ that's the best he's got, justin. and maybe it's for the better. he does't want to be the one encouraging lazy habits; it just wouldn't be characteristic, for one thing. for another, neither of them are mice, and they aren't likely to run into any kind of life-threatening danger no matter what time they decide to get out of bed.
in the end, the point here is not early or late risers—not really—but rather the museum. raphael hasn't had the chance to visit justin's museum, though to be fair, he's had very view chances to visit any of the museums in eudio. only a special occasion had allowed him access to the observatory. everything else either closes not long after raphael could arrive or before the sun has even begun its descent.
it's not as though that's unusual for raphael, but he's never really had the time previously to be inconvenienced by evening closing times. while there are countless interesting places to visit back in new york, he was almost always preoccupied with more pressing matters than leisurely strolls through exhibits or parks. so forgive him if the idea of being given special access to the art museum after hours pleases him a little. ]
and i'm assuming that was a very unsubtle invitation?
[ he doesn't really see why justin would mention it if he didn't want raphael to come... ]
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so you get a saying about god wanting to help people like you and i get dead mice and room temperature cheese. that seems a little extreme for wanting a little extra sleep.
[ also: morbid. but somehow, coming from raphael, it seems less so, which is kind of weird, but justin doesn't think about the possible reasons for why that is. instead, he absently sidesteps around a decently-sized sculpture in the middle of the gallery, his attention focused elsewhere - particularly, on his phone, and how to respond to the second part of raphael's mostly-expected reply. ]
was that not subtle? i did consider sending you a singing telegram but i'm not sure if that's even a thing people still do. also, nobody needs that when they've just woken up.
you should come. free admission if you teach me how to say that phrase in spanish.
no subject
you could always do the practical thing and go to sleep earlier.
[ except that would mean the time they have to spend together would probably be cut in half, and while raphael won't say it outright, he's not exactly pleased by that thought. perhaps justin can be excused for needing a few extra hours in the morning if it means he's sacrificing hours in the evening for raphael's sake. ]
i'm glad you decided against that. [ it's possible he smiles to himself, but he's also shaking his head, so maybe the two cancel each other out. he sets aside his mug and strides out to the main room of his apartment, sweeping up the jacket he'd laid out today from where it's draped over the couch and shrugging it on.
yes, he's going. ]
i'll make you a deal. free admission and a proper tour for a better phrase in spanish.
no subject
[ it's just a bit of teasing and not meant to imply that raphael doesn't have other friends. justin's almost certain that he does, now that he's gotten to know him a bit better. there's no way that other people don't also find him as intriguing and as weirdly charming as he does.
so what if he's been staying up a little later lately? it's not exactly as if he's in bad company.
justin smiles a little to himself as the last message comes in, and taps out a quick and confident reply. ]
that's all? i hope you're ready for the best tour you can find in eudio. and also, for me to butcher some spanish. i'll apologize for that one ahead of time. meet you out front?
[ and with that sent, justin slides his phone into his pocket and starts to make his way toward the main entrance, stopping by the information and ticket desk to swipe a museum guide that raphael probably won't need with justin there, but he wants to make sure he gets the full experience anyway.
flipping the lock on one of the main front doors so he can let himself out, justin steps outside to wait. ]
no subject
maybe you'll surprise us both and impress me.
[ raphael tucks his phone into his jacket, committed to this now, as if he wasn't before. of course, the museum is not too far from his apartment building, as most things are never really too far when vampire speed is at your disposal. once in the street, he takes off in the right direction, sweeping by pairs of people holding hands as they wander home and others who couldn't wait long enough to find some privacy and now kiss under streetlights. raphael doesn't pay anyone much more than a passing glance, but given the circumstances, he can't help the way his mind pinpoints the kind of meetings people tend to have at this hour, especially here in the city.
he slows just before the museum steps, glancing up at justin where he waits outside the doors. ]
Dime con quién andas, y te diré quién eres. [ he says as he climbs the stairs because apparently a simple hello lacks any real satisfaction. he repeats the phrase again, slower this time so justin can pay attention to the sound and shape of the words. he comes to a stop in front of justin, hands in his pockets. he's dressed for a business meeting or a high-class funeral or perhaps even a date, depending on what you want to see. which is probably true of the look raphael flashes, too, clearly expectant of something. ]
Is that enough to get me in?
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justin hasn't really forgotten about raphael's supernatural speed - it's one of the first new things he'd learned about vampires, back when they'd first met in person at pandemonium, something he filed away so he wouldn't forget -, but that doesn't mean he's not somewhat surprised to see him so soon. he hears his voice first, low and smooth and familiar, and lifts his head up from the pamphlet in his hand, reading it as if he doesn't have the entire thing memorized by now.
justin smiles at the sight of him, pleased by his attendance and a promise fulfilled. his lips part, and he's about to ask raphael to repeat the phrase slower for him, but raphael seems to read his mind before he can get the words out. he listens carefully, his eyes focused on raphael's mouth, on the shape of his lips as he pronounces each word for him, and repeats the words back to him under his breath for now. he'll have to run it through his head a few more times before he'll actually say it out loud. ]
I think it's plenty enough to get you in. [ he lifts his brows subtly, the corners of his mouth tugging a little with a soft smile as he reaches out to press the museum guide to the center of raphael's chest, fingertips grazing his dress shirt. it's soft against his skin and justin takes half a moment to look him over, not surprised in the slightest that he's dressed to impress. justin isn't quite so done-up, but he's not in jeans and a t-shirt, either. instead, he's dressed in black slacks and a dark navy button down, the sleeves cuffed at his elbows. work attire, seeing as he hasn't really left yet.
justin waits for raphael to take responsibility for the paper guide before he lifts his hand away, then moves to pull the only unlocked door open for him, stepping aside. ] But the quality of the tour depends on the quality of the phrase, and you haven't told me what it means.
no subject
justin presses the guide to his chest and raphael offers a look as he accepts it, like perhaps he means to say he knows they're on justin's turf now, but raphael's not about to let his guard down. what he's guarding against isn't exactly clear; this is just something they do, this give and take that sometimes results in raphael refusing to give or take anything. tonight, though, he might not be so concerned with avoiding the peculiar dance. ]
Do you torture all your patrons of the arts like this? [ he says as he follows justin through the door, pamphlet curled in hand. of course, he knows they had a deal and that makes him a special case, so he fully intends to fulfill his end of the bargain. ]
It means 'tell me who you spend time with, and I'll tell you who you are.' [ he offers as he peers appraisingly around the museum's foyer, and then finds justin's eyes again, judging his response. ] I'm sure that says something about you. Spending time with a vampire.
[ emphasis here on the word vampire, like maybe justin should consider just what that means. but raphael knows how justin feels; he's already proven that he's not particularly scared of what raphael is, despite the warning signs. and he knows, too, that when justin makes up his mind about something, he's not easily swayed. they have that in common. ]
Spending time with me. [ and he doesn't mean that in a self-deprecating way; that's clear from the smooth tone of voice. he more wants to recognize the rarity of that, of spending time with an acquired taste like raphael. and the rarity of raphael letting it happen. it all means something, surely, the mystery of which raphael leaves justin to contemplate as he passes him by, as if he intends to give himself that tour. ]