Nosy and not especially apologetic about it, Daniel has no qualms with eavesdropping even if he's not actively concentrating on it. But as luck would have it, an AIDSGATE print from the Silence = Death Project is on display, and for a while he stands in front of it, captured by old thoughts. And, uncomfortably, a few recent ones. Roy Travis, out of some oppression Olympics guilt that he didn't catch it, worlds that Daniel has vacationed in but never committed to. Is it allyship, or is it predatory? Is he lying to himself, or everyone else?
Louis and Lestat are still talking when he moves on. Putting it out of his head like quickly shutting a door. An easy mercenary rationalization that it's not cowardly because it's not the time to be doing any self-indulgent wallowing. Maybe later.
He finally finds the Rauschenberg, which he opts to stare at for a while. By the time he's joined—
"I think I might be mixing this guy up with somebody else?" A thumb, towards the split painting-sculpture. "Or is this just one of his more sedate ones?"
(It's one of his more sedate ones.)
But no matter what, they should skedaddle to some other part of the museum. Overnight shift change will happen soon, and nobody wants to be glimpsed on a camera. A jaunt through another exhibit, and then, past the cluttered long-aforementioned mezzanine, is the seductive allure of a modest door marked both 1) employees only and 2) emergency roof access.
no subject
Nosy and not especially apologetic about it, Daniel has no qualms with eavesdropping even if he's not actively concentrating on it. But as luck would have it, an AIDSGATE print from the Silence = Death Project is on display, and for a while he stands in front of it, captured by old thoughts. And, uncomfortably, a few recent ones. Roy Travis, out of some oppression Olympics guilt that he didn't catch it, worlds that Daniel has vacationed in but never committed to. Is it allyship, or is it predatory? Is he lying to himself, or everyone else?
Louis and Lestat are still talking when he moves on. Putting it out of his head like quickly shutting a door. An easy mercenary rationalization that it's not cowardly because it's not the time to be doing any self-indulgent wallowing. Maybe later.
He finally finds the Rauschenberg, which he opts to stare at for a while. By the time he's joined—
"I think I might be mixing this guy up with somebody else?" A thumb, towards the split painting-sculpture. "Or is this just one of his more sedate ones?"
(It's one of his more sedate ones.)
But no matter what, they should skedaddle to some other part of the museum. Overnight shift change will happen soon, and nobody wants to be glimpsed on a camera. A jaunt through another exhibit, and then, past the cluttered long-aforementioned mezzanine, is the seductive allure of a modest door marked both 1) employees only and 2) emergency roof access.