1wayd0wn

[1wayd0wn]

“Wrong pair of trousers, sadly.”

open starter !!

setting: the park idk

"it's such a beautiful day... would you like to join me for yoga?"

[1wayd0wn]

He was raised to be feared. Behind locked doors and drawn curtains, he masters the veil so that control is not shown but felt. Tools sharper than knives are passed on and on. With them, he ruled through discipline within these walls to preserve the island as it was given to him.

Decades on, the chill turned on himself. Now the keeper of history means something new entirely and it scares him to his core. It's seen in the stillness that overtakes him between thoughts, half a breath held, when unspoken words linger in the air between them. If someone was next, then it’d be him. Or worse: her.

"That isn't up to us," he says, after a beat. He stretches an arm along the sofa's spine, fingers spread out as if reaching out for what was lost. “We were never meant to govern.” A beat. “The next Premier will be voted by the people. They need a win.”

She was raised to be admired. Molded from a young age, poised like one of the faceless mannequins dotted around her family's store, a sculpture upon a grand pedestal. That's how she is even now, sat on one of (too) many sofas in the lounge of this grand palace they call home; the physical manifestion of their heavy legacy. Yet, as of late, she wonders if the clinical, untouchable formality of Casa Del Bosque is indicative of something else, of the sophisticated cold war that their marriage has devolved into.

She's heard rumblings that the Council's numerous requests to meet with him have fallen on deaf, unwilling ears; it's bound to happen when she works so closely with the Culture & Heritage Chancellor, already a close and personal friend of hers. Luciana suspects her husband will soon realise that; whether he will care, is something she's unsure about.

"Yes." Her agreement is clipped, neutral, and entirely indifferent, but any moment of consesus between the two is rare these days. "But we can't let the curtains fall for too long either." Whose to say the next shot won't be levied at one of their own, after all?

[1wayd0wn]

Rafael doesn't quite jump and the surprise is hardly visible, but the spang of irritation at being caught off guard by the sudden appearance of Teo is felt terribly, landing all at once. He'd rather a stroke.

He withholds a sigh and tucks the shears into the front pocket of his gilet. "No." Why anyone would shorten a nice name like Josephine to Joey is beyond him. "Can't say I go to Paloma City for coffee." A beat. "Or young girls."

No one in the family is a bad liar, per se, not even Mona... They don't have that luxury.

That said, Rafael's far from the best.

His nephew doesn't catch the subtle shift in his expression, but what he does notice is the finality with which Rafael declares he hasn't heard of Calais... It's not like him to be content in ignorance, or to leave anything unquestioned. Teodósio returns his uncle's gaze blankly, filing away the observation. "Consider it done."

⬎

He doesn't forget the money (because why would he?) but unfortunately, the trail on whatever Rafael's hiding about the aforementioned 'Calais' goes cold. So he's left to play the good nephew, finding out exactly (and only) what Rafael's asked.

Still, it takes time. Ortíz isn't the only job he's investigating, and the last five-six weeks have been busy on many fronts. There's a growing sense of unease in Coronado, and it is good for business. But when he does make progress on Rafael's orders, the lead he finds is somewhat... Unexpected.

"Josephine Marie Iverson." He articulates each part of the name, giving his uncle time to process as he steps inside from the garden, still wearing a pair of dirty gloves with which he's holding a pair of shears. "Joey." He adds, although he doesn't suppose the nickname will mean much more to Rafael than it originally had to him.

"About Mona's age, owner of the Small Talk Café." (No surprise if neither he nor Rafael would've found themselves there prior...) "It's in Paloma City." He lathers hummus onto his sandwich after helping himself to the groceries in the fridge. " — Do you know her?"

[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?"

Dimitri visits Rafael Del Bosque on occasion—it's not because he's partial to the family, of course, he has to determine that a good business tactic would simply be impartiality to everyone. He visits every head of the major families, but even so, he visits Rafael because he's good company. Notwithstanding crime, of course, but crime is second nature to everyone in Coronado, whether they believe it or not. So it comes as no surprise that he talks about greenery, though he wonders if this is simply the lead-up to something. "Import fees are steep, since no one wants to port over an unstable country. But if you're asking me about keeping them alive?" He shrugs—he's better with things that are animated. "They're hard to keep alive, but between your topiary and your plants? I'm sure you can manage, Raf."

[1wayd0wn]

Rafael hates cellphones. Why couldn't Teo have printed it? This would've been a lot easier to read on paper. However, that isn't the reason why he doesn't reach for the phone immediately. The lack of urgency to look into the details may be telling, depending on how one decides to look at them.

There's an imperceptible shift in his expression. "Calais," he repeats softly, like a name said at a wake. A beat. Calais wasn't a name, it was a warning. Project Laicas, from twenty-odd years ago. Something he couldn't risk Teo or anyone else finding out. He makes a quick decision: "Not familiar to me."

His gaze remains on Teo -- a boy whose introduction to the family tapestry should've said it all. His place, permanently fixed, by a stitch pulled too tight. Now he stands, as disturbing as a misthread.

"Forget the money." Ortiz may be a few steps ahead of him but that won't last for long. "Everyone has a breaking point," he says. "Find his. Quickly." He wanted Ortiz here, on his knees, begging for his forgiveness.

He steps forward, cutting the office's radius in long strides. A cellphone's deposited onto the desk in front of the patriarch. All but a few files are there, unencrypted, for Rafael to peruse. The few that are missing may be of more interest to the authorities than to his uncle, but Teodósio hasn't yet decided whether or not to play that card.

Either way — "Does the name Calais mean anything to you?... He transferred a sum of 450,000 sellos to an account under that name last month. Couldn't match it to any of his long-term payees, contractors, or investments."

He studies Rafael. For all his prowess in carrying out the family's dirty work, Teodósio has a significant shortcoming... He never asks himself why. It isn't until he is standing here, catching his uncle's haggard sigh, that he wonders; why had Ortíz betrayed him?

Does Rafael feel as though his sandcastle is threatened by the rising tide?... Feelings, hopes, motives... Those questions occur to him belatedly — if they occur to him at all.

[1wayd0wn]

A deep sigh leaves him. Beneath the disappointment, he silently mutters: "Oh Grigorio..." One of his oldest friends, Monarosa's godfather. He leans back into his seat.

A firm nod signals for Teo to bring forward the evidence, to continue with the details. Who bought him, what was his price.

They both know the warning's unnecessary. An appreciation for brevity is one of the few non-neutral feelings he harbours towards his uncle... Towards any person, really.

"Grigorio Ortíz. He's the culprit behind some of your recent information leaks."

[1wayd0wn]

rafael + luciana ( @directart ) in the '90s

[1wayd0wn]

SETTING: whilst the city erupts in bitter fury, casa del bosque continues to breathe in stillness. the chandeliers still glistened and the silver still shone. along the hallways, the ghosts of eight generations watch from their portraits. they listen to the news playing inside the private lounge. their verdict can be heard in the silence. @directart

The television screen turns black. Rafael stand besides the drinks cabinet, one hand on the edge like he might pour something and then thought the better of it. The last static of the late night broadcast echoes in the yawning space between them. Only the slow tick of the grandfather clock in the corner can be heard, as if time is passing by waiting to be blamed.

This is how it’s been: a fine line separating them, their shadows dancing along its narrow spine. Above them, the sun decides whether they draw closer or drift further apart.

An assassinated Premier, a missing Vice -- but it's their names on placards. Her face remains unreadable, unyielding. He wonders if she knows he’s not taking any meetings with the High Council. “The longer they delay the election is better for us.”

[1wayd0wn]

SETTING: rafael's office, casa del bosque. @tjdelbosque

"Make it quick."

[1wayd0wn]

SETTING: the light is soft, just edging into gold. a breeze moves through the hedges, carrying the whispers of yesterday’s scandal — delicate, but barbed. within the stone terraces of casa del bosque lies a sanctuary, where topiary trees stand like chess pieces. between them, silver shears glint in a gloved hand. @stromaintic

Rafael’s gaze lingers on a single camellia beginning to bloom too early. He snips it clean from the stem with the same care one might give a surgical incision. He pockets it, then.

Whilst everyone gossips of his rumoured bastard, Rafael has one concern: “I am thinking of importing Jade Vines. Clara is said to have tried, but they are difficult to maintain.” A glance around the garden, then his gaze lands on Dimitri. “What do you think of Jade Vines?”

[1wayd0wn]

WELCOME TO THE CIRCUS, RAFAEL DEL BOSQUE.

BASICS:

full name  : rafael del bosque. nicknames  :  rafa. birthdate  : 12th jan (  63 ). hometown  : coronado. traits : obsessive, strategic, unforgiving, paranoid. gender  +  pronouns  : cis man  +  he/him. orientation  : heterosexual. zodiac  : capricorn. occupation  : chair of del bosque enterprises. character parallels : michael corleone ( the godfather part 3 ), roderick usher ( the fall of the house of usher ), emperor joseph ii ( amadeus ). alliance : del bosque. aesthetic : whispered omens curled around his throat like a lover's hand, a cracked mirror reflecting pieces of a face, a rusted key in a trembling hand.

SUMMARY:

as a young man, the weight of legacy was a privilege. he dreamed of ruling coronado with his young ideals in mind. however, following in his father's footsteps came with decisions that turned him ruthless. he understood what it meant to be a del bosque and how heavy the burden could be.

the idea of leaving an impact, as the del bosques who came before him did, was his first mission. what could he build that wasn’t already done? things changed when a fortune teller spelled out his fate. he thought little of it, at first, but after a certain number of deaths and events that couldn’t be put down as consequence, protecting the family and everything they stood for became his priority.

this birthed a reformist — obsessive over the idea that the downfall of his family is imminent if things don’t change, paranoid that sins committed will eventually catch up to him. he plans to legitimise the family business and clean their name from blood stains. any threat will be taken care of, including his own children, if they dare. if he can turn the du bois and shibatas against each other, then he could silently step back and enjoy the show.