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maskormenacelogs2019-09-07 07:18 pm
heliophilic) wrote in maskormenacelogs2019-09-07 07:18 pm
Entry tags:
Oh, my knight in black leather
WHO: The Midnighter and Rupert von Hentzau
WHERE: Mooney's Alehouse, a gay bar in Nonah
WHEN: Beginning of September
WHAT: Rupert finally meets the leather man of his dreams
WARNINGS: Violence? Rupert? Will update as/if necessary
[Were Rafael not a close asset and good friend, M might believe that the bartender for the first floor of Mooney's Alehouse was mocking him. M sits up at the bar, a familiar duffel bag under his feet, while Rafael works, trying hard to ignore the throngs of people surrounding him. It isn't the fact that the bar was more crowded than usual that M was trying to ignore, but rather the bar's preferred choice of clothing. Of all the nights Rafael could have called him here, it was on "leather night."
Decidedly one of the few people not currently in some form of leather anything, M sticks out in his white button-up shirt and jeans. The bourbon in his hands helps, but as he can't get drunk, it's a temporary distraction at best.
Finally, Rafael has a moment to swing back over to M's side of the bar.]
Rafa, you know I like you, but this is a bit much.
["It wasn't on purpose, I swear," the bartender replies with a sheepish grin, knowing the other man's supposed reputation all too well. "But I need your help."]
So you've told me. What's up?
[Because Rafael wouldn't have called him if something wasn't seriously wrong.]
WHERE: Mooney's Alehouse, a gay bar in Nonah
WHEN: Beginning of September
WHAT: Rupert finally meets the leather man of his dreams
WARNINGS: Violence? Rupert? Will update as/if necessary
[Were Rafael not a close asset and good friend, M might believe that the bartender for the first floor of Mooney's Alehouse was mocking him. M sits up at the bar, a familiar duffel bag under his feet, while Rafael works, trying hard to ignore the throngs of people surrounding him. It isn't the fact that the bar was more crowded than usual that M was trying to ignore, but rather the bar's preferred choice of clothing. Of all the nights Rafael could have called him here, it was on "leather night."
Decidedly one of the few people not currently in some form of leather anything, M sticks out in his white button-up shirt and jeans. The bourbon in his hands helps, but as he can't get drunk, it's a temporary distraction at best.
Finally, Rafael has a moment to swing back over to M's side of the bar.]
Rafa, you know I like you, but this is a bit much.
["It wasn't on purpose, I swear," the bartender replies with a sheepish grin, knowing the other man's supposed reputation all too well. "But I need your help."]
So you've told me. What's up?
[Because Rafael wouldn't have called him if something wasn't seriously wrong.]