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raphael san†iago ([personal profile] administration) wrote2016-09-24 07:02 pm
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[personal profile] gayopolis 2016-11-03 02:46 am (UTC)(link)

Edited 2016-11-03 02:47 (UTC)
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[personal profile] gayopolis 2017-09-02 10:00 pm (UTC)(link)
[ the position of museum curator came as a surprise to justin, though the reason for the shift of responsibilities wasn't exactly what he would have liked. saying goodbye to a woman that had come to be a decently good friend had been a little hard, but he took on the job with confidence and the determination to prove to himself (and to angela) that he was worthy of the position.

the couple weeks following angela's departure had been fast-paced and hectic, with long hours spent learning the ropes and responsibilities of his new title, often to the point that justin would not only be the first one in, but also the last one out of the museum, well after they'd closed the doors for the day. eventually, though, he found a rhythm and fell into everything with ease, spending most of his mornings observing and collecting data from a small family of velociraptors at the zoo for a certain trickster god, and his afternoons at the museum.

today is no different. though his days are far less busy now that he's got the hang of his routine, he often finds himself staying past closing time to look into new pieces for the gallery, or simply wandering from hall to hall, taking his time to admire the art when it's quiet and he has no other obligations.

night has only just fallen by the time justin files away his last bit of paperwork ( details on a piece from a different earth, painted by a sleepless witch who specializes in wax paints ). the building is silent, though not uncomfortably so, and for a moment, justin just sits and listens to the nothingness, breathing slowly. he's tired, but he doesn't want to go home just yet. it's early still for those who seize the night.

leaving his office, justin flicks off the light and pulls the door closed quietly behind him, contemplating what to do with the rest of his night as he makes his away down the hall out towards the main floor.

a pair of dark eyes flash in his mind in a way that should probably be a little bit startling, but it only seems to light him up, if only by a little as an idea strikes him. he slides his phone out of his slacks ( really, the only thing left to get used to is dressing business casual all the time, though button down shirts cuffed at the elbows aren't so bad ) and thumbs through his contacts, stopping near the bottom.

Raphael Santiago. ]


hi! are you awake yet, or is it still early?