raphael barnes

Jonathan Bailey as Anthony Bridgerton in “A Bee in Your Bonnet” (Bridgerton - 2x03)

"Oh," he said, swapping the stuff between hands as he held a hand up to the money. It was more than his usual, but this was a special occassion. He'd never fight if clients wanted to give him more. He wagged his head a bit as he looked at the drugs. "This is most definitely better than that," he told the other. "Though, good to hear it was to your liking. Do you remember anything from the night? Because it would be sad if you didn't." He handed over the drugs, swiftly, and took the money, pocketing it where people would have to do their best to get to it.

"Don't ask me the names of the queens, though. The ex-convict -- that I can remember. Rex. I kept calling him a dinosaur, and it pissed him off because he thought I was calling him old." Raph's eyebrows furrowed. "Though, come to think of it, maybe he was saying his name was Jack. That would explain... a lot."

Raph cleared his throat as a waiter walked by with a tray full of dirty dishes. Without hesitating, he snagged a half-filled glass off of it, waited for the waiter to disappear into the kitchen, then slipped out one of the pills and popped it in his mouth, washing it down with whatever was in the glass (as it turned out - some sort of no-longer sparkling water). He winced at the liquid, the flashed a bright smile to Benny. "Alright, the countdown begins. What do you reckon? Half an hour?"

CONSIDERING THE VAGUENESS OF THE NOTE that was left for them, Kaia wasn't entirely sure what their move was expected to be. Were they being asked to simply start a rumor and hope it reached as many ears as possible that it would turn into a serious allegation? Their sociality only went so far, but that was something they considered themselves capable of. Or was a name expected to be submitted in some informal nature? Stepping out of the crowded setting of the party to get a moment of peace for a thought to themselves, wandering down the spiraling halls of the Weiss Manor only seemed to leave them more confused, especially when they hadn't left room on their mind to track every turn they had made. Looking behind themself, only what was to be found was glossy and immaculate halls, they jumped only slightly to turn back towards the direction of the voice, eyebrow arching. "Are you expecting something fun?" If it was coded speak, it was lost on them, unless this was the person they were meant to be speaking to. "Thanks for the directions, though. Do you know how to make it back to where the reception is being held? I wasn't paying attention; this place is a bit of a maze if you don't know it well."

"Place is crazy," he affirmed. "And to be perfectly honest? I don't. One of the wait staff almost certainly would, though." He indicated the door behind him. "But - you guessed it - I can't let you in there. But you're welcome to hang out until someone more useful walks by."

He wasn't sure if the boss would enjoy hearing a dealer was dealing at his party, but it would be a horrible party if what he dealt wasn't available. "And whether you're up for the fun when on the job, it could seriously alter your capabilities, though... how hard can it be to guard a hallway like this, soldier," he drawled.

He pulled out the typical price Benny asked for, doubled, and handed it out to him. "What do you have for me today? Whatever you gave me last month was... sensational. I woke up next to three drag queens and an ex-convict."

Perpetually rigid posture relaxing at the realization that her unexpected company was a familiar face, Cassandra returned his nod with one of her own and managed an easy-going grin (or, at least, whatever passed for easy-going for the famously blunt and severe eldest Weiss daughter). "At ease, Raph. You can enjoy your dinner in peace out here. I'm not going to give you any trouble tonight, I promise." It was rare for Cassandra to find true allies among her father's legion of loyal soldiers. Over the years spent under his regime, she'd learned quickly that their true allegiance tended to lie with the patriarch of the family. After all, until one of his successors took over officially, he was still the one calling the shots. Even when she'd been in training to take the crown from him, not all of his followers were as convinced that she had what it took to be the new head of the family. And it only hurt her pride a little a lot that they were right in the end. Still, there were a select few in the Weiss organization that the heiress got along easily with, feeling a degree of comfort in their presence that allowed her to drop her mask of perfection (if only for a few moments at a time). More than simply enjoying their company, she tentatively trusted them.

Raphael Barnes was among that handful.

A wisp of a chuckle escaping her lips at his quip, she hummed thoughtfully, considering the rhetorical question with all of the sober sincerity that Cassandra had long been known for, never one to take anything lightly. "Well, considering our history, I'd say my family's sanity. You'd have much better odds counting on one of us to break down than the weather turning for the worse. The real question is: which one of us will be the one to break first?" A flicker of amusement briefly lighting up her gaze, Cass braced her hands on either side of her, the rough stone of the bench lightly scratching against her palms. "Have you gotten to know the new arrivals at all? I've talked to Elias, he seems alright. But Cherry is still a mystery... haven't gotten much time with her yet," she confessed, comfortable enough to admit what she considered a minute weakness on her part, an oversight to collect information that her father would've surely berated her for.

You should know better, Cassie. Knowledge is power.

He glanced up at the sky, which was fomenting an ugly gray color. It didn't bode well for the outlook of weather for the rest of the evening, which made him laugh since she was right. It was much more likely that one of her family would break first. "I couldn't tell you that," he said. "But I have to agree. One of the kids, surely." He popped a crouton into his mouth. "One of the other kids, I should specify. Present company excepted."

He tilted his head to the side before shaking it. "Nah," he said. "They don't let me near anyone important. Probably for the best, if we're being honest." Raphael tugged at the collar of his shirt, annoyed with how tightly it fit. "I haven't even gotten like... a brief. On what to say, what not to say. Usually there's something, y'know? That you're not supposed to say around people when they are new."

Drake could hardly say he was having fun — at any event, and not simply this one. Tagging along for any Weiss social function was not on his top list of indulgent activities, and neither was socializing, in general. Even before he had come to Las Vegas, he couldn't say he had been anything but an introvert, now with a little less maladaptive daydreaming to pass the time ( largely because he didn't have the time to spare. )

Seeking reprieve from bumping into the nth guest and forced into a barrel of small talk that was increasingly dour since Romi Weiss had been removed from the premises, he had half a mind to hide in one of the nondescript hallways that felt endless. The manor could be a labyrinth. Turning the corner into the hallway, he was unsurprised to see one of the soldiers of the family standing guard, probably ordered by someone else to keep guests from wandering into rooms they weren't wanted or getting into tomfoolery. "Uh, hey..." Drake trailed off, as he realized he couldn't recall the soldier's name — who he consorted with tended to be in the same circle as the youngest Weiss daughter.

"You're in the right spot, then," he replied to the true question. "Kitchen's behind us. It's so boring they didn't even assign me a weapon." Raph held out his hands to prove the point. "Rough day for you, huh? I've heard it's been quite the eventful day. And that's not even counting the wedding itself."

Back slumping against the stone exterior of her childhood home, Cassandra turned her gaze towards the meticulously maintained garden at the back of the manor, green eyes darting over the starry night sky above her as she took a moment to fortify herself. She could still hear the distant sounds of glasses clinking and voices floating from inside the house, determined to chase her even out here. Idly, her hands fiddled with the bracelets on her wrists, hoping that the repetitive motion might bring her comfort.

It was one of the things that Cassandra hadn't missed about her days as the future successor to her father's throne: the near-constant public appearances. In fact, since the disappearance of her mother (and a private mental breakdown that few apart from her father and bodyguard knew about), she'd become a veritable recluse, content to simply exist in the security of her apartment. But that didn't excuse her from family gatherings entirely, especially not when something as momentous as her father's second wedding was set to take place in her family home. Still, the constant barrage of small talk and curious questions from well-meaning townsfolk took a toll on the blonde. Despite her academic and strategic prowess, she'd never been particularly good at the more social aspects of being a Weiss. Truthfully, she found it draining, the degree of performance it took to maintain her standing as the perfect eldest daughter. She didn't realize how exhausting it had become over the years, not until she had been relieved from her duties. Occasions like this just served as a reminder of all the ways she'd failed to measure up.

Eyes closing for a moment as she sucked in a lungful of fresh air, Cass forced the tension in her shoulders to loosen, resisting the temptation to fuss with the romantic up-do that her blonde curls had been wrangled into. Just a few more hours, she reminded herself. But her small moment of solitude was short-lived with the arrival of someone exiting the back door. Eyes flying open and mask settling back on, the heiress offered her new companion her best approximation of an easy grin. "Sorry, I just... needed a little air. It was getting noisy in there," she blurted, the back of her neck burning reflexively at the admission. Pushing off the wall to take a seat on a nearby stone bench, she settled onto it, her posture pin-straight. "I take it you needed a minute away from the festivities too?"

He found, instead, one of the very people he was meant to be guarding. He tilted his head in slight greeting, choosing to keep a respectable distance from her. "You don't have to apologize to me, ma'am," he reassured. He leaned against the doorframe, taking her up on the offer of air by taking a deep breath of his own. He shoveled a little bit of salad into his mouth before gesturing noncommitally to the air. "What do you think is going to break first - the weather, or one of your family members' sanity?"