Carnivore, Animal, Cannibal

The marriage bill was rapidly becoming the weakest point in David’s entire damn campaign and it was quite honestly the bane of his existence. “Well, if you and your partner want to have the security of a civil union and all of the benefits of that then I’m your man,” he said with a toothy grin. “And between you and me,” David said in a conspiratorial voice, “I wouldn’t trust a politician that wears Christmas socks in October.” The sight of those tiny candy canes under his opponents slacks had almost caused David to break into horrified laughter during the National Anthem. Perhaps he was a bit bitter still.

It was a vain thing to pick up on, perhaps. But perhaps that was precisely what David wanted. Indeed, he wanted to lull this obnoxious dolt into a sense of camaraderie much like he had with dozens if not hundreds of others. It was David’s bread and butter. “I suspect you should probably be chasing after them,” David said as he tilted his head towards the door the models had cleared out of only a little while ago. “And I should probably go find my seat. But thanks for the hospitality.”

He kicked himself momentarily. He sounded as if he was desperate to escape Mark (which he probably was, if he was being honest). That simply wouldn’t do. “What are you doing after the show? I know a very nice little bistro over near Cap Hill. Maybe we can… discuss things further.”

Mark

Ah, that grin; David knew he was playing directly into what Mark was making himself appear to be, simply by guaranteeing him that bill and bringing up those horrible socks that Mark could recall spotting during one of the too frequent political events he had shown up at. It drew a quiet laugh from his throat, a playful shudder at the memory of it. 

Still, when David nodded toward the direction of the models, Mark gave an all too honest sigh for his liking. The girls for this show were the height of vain, and while normally that was a benefit, at the moment it was nothing but the greatest irritation that he could identify. When the offer for dinner sounded, however, he couldn't quite help the look of surprise that crossed his face, an eyebrow raising in question for a moment before it was replaced by a grin and a nod. "Dinner would be fantastic, Mister Price. I hope you find the show to your satisfaction, in the meantime -- the girls will be putting on even more of a show than normal, having seen that you're here, I'm certain."

And if they weren't planning on it, Mark would certainly make sure they did.

David knew that he was like sugar to these people. Why he had no idea, but if Mark was looking to rile the straight boy then he clearly was a fool. He hadn’t gotten to where he was by letting twinks distress him. Letting the pad of his thumb lightly brush against Mark’s palm, he broke the handshake and sat comfortably. 

Models had never truly been his type - David preferred his woman catty and strong enough to fight, if only for a little while. “Well, you can’t stay ahead of the polls if you don’t stay near the pulse.” He decided rapidly that Mark would be able to see through a lie. Perhaps he could charm him by being frank. It had certainly happened to him before.

"Liberals are nothing but Conservatives that lack the dedication," he said carefully. "We’re all on the same side once elected."  It was true, his opponent was doing all too well in the popularity polls for David’s liking, but he was just a flash in the pan. A large part of keeping the popular vote was being able to keep your promises. David always did, for better or worse.

Mark

It was interesting, listening to how David spoke; he wasn't trying to schmooze like so many of the politicians that came through his dressing rooms tended to do. He wasn't lying, as so many more of them were prone to. Mark could feel the honesty in his voice as he spoke, and he decided he liked that quite quickly. It was a rare thing to get an honest voice in general about the world these days, and in a politician? Even further rare. Especially a handsome one.

Chuckling softly at David's confident, carefully worded statement, Mark shrugged a shoulder. "I'm inclined to think much the same -- politicians aren't often different from one another when it comes down to it -- but he seems to make some rather... grand promises. The marriage bill, the healthcare reform support... It's all quite impressive. As far as I've heard, that is. I'm afraid I'm too often distracted by his... lackadaisical appearance, to focus much on his promises that he'll inevitably break should he actually make it into office."

Rule number one for being David Price: Don’t shit where you eat.

It was a rule often easier said than done. What cut throat politician hadn’t considered being a bit less metaphorical with their throat cutting during election year?  David would admit to admirable methods of eviscerating (sometimes quite literally) the competition, but really when all was said and done it funneled into rule number two for being David Price: Charm and dominate. 

With his good looks and his ability to mask his own shark like motivations, David had very few road blocks in his future. Unfortunately one of his few road blocks was idiotic trips to media functions. Like fashion shows, for instance. David couldn’t for the life of him figure out what watching a bunch of half starved heroin addicts dressed by a fag had to do with politics (and republican politics, no less), but he slapped a smile on his face and wore his best suit anyway. 

Keeping said smile on his face was definitely more of a challenge. People were boring, vapid. David had experienced deeper and more interesting conversations with his daughter and she wasn’t even in first grade yet. As soon as he could slip away he did, ghosting away into the fitting area almost before he could be missed. Their was just as much chatter behind the scenes, if not more, but David felt the muscles in his shoulders relax ever so slightly. At least he wasn’t talking to his colleague’s wives any more. 

As time passed and the apparent designer seemed to pay no heed to him (an unforgivable offence typically), David watched in cautious interest. So this was the pansy boy who was responsible for his suffering. How charming. David quickly scanned the designs he could see, attempting to memorize some small detail he could work into conversation later.

"David Price, it’s a pleasure," he said as he tightly grasped the other man’s hand. "Your show looks to be… interesting so far."  

Mark

David Price; Mark ran through the names that he knew in silence for only a brief moment, coming up with a politician - a republican no less. A republican stood before him, at a fashion show that was likely filled with just the type of people that he detested most, for as Mark had come to realize over the last several years of adulthood, republicans were the most conservative type of people - and a fashion show full of gay men with little interest in anything save their appearances and the clothes that they pinned on their ever thinner models was far from conservative.

Still, there David stood, with a hand shake firm enough to have Mark smiling just the slightest bit more guardedly. David was large enough that he could be dangerous, very easily, and in such a small area, it was a bit unnerving. His smile was, however, charming, and Mark somehow found that a bit more relaxing than the words that the other offered up - though the smooth tone of his voice certainly helped that calming effect along quite well.

"Thank you - interesting is the intent. Not many people design quite like I do. I'm surprised to see a man of your stature here," Mark admitted, gesturing toward a chair for David to take a seat if he so desired. The models around the room in their various states of ready, simply dressed, and not fully dressed were eyeing the politician with keen eyes, as though debating whether he was someone they could come over and flirt with for the sake of bettering their position at the moment or if he was more interested in Mark and the designs around them. It was a quick, half-glaring look from the designer that sent them scurrying off, model by model, to finish preparing properly for the show.

"David Price, the republican candidate for this upcoming race, correct?" he questioned, keeping his tone prim and neutral as he leaned against the fixing table he had been working at when David came in. "It's been quite a close race thus far, as I've heard - the polls are rather tied on which way the vote will be swayed. Word among the models is, your opponent is drawing in the young crowd a bit better than anticipated. Liberalism seems to draw in those under twenty-five much better these days."