Oh, boy. This guy was so green he could practically smell grass on him. Not that that was a completely bad thing - at least not for Luc, really (everybody loved a virgin - well, Luc did, at least); for Joaquin himself it wasn't entirely good. Not when he was practically bleeding 'novice' from every orifice in this pool of sharks - because that's exactly what they were. Luc had a hard time finding a better word for it, really.
Luc himself was definitely a shark of sorts - but not the kind that ate people. More like a whale shark, with how he was massive but fed on only plankton - which according to Luc's definition was anyone who was completely brainless, and they were the ones who really had it coming (he had a very low tolerance for ignorance - as it was a choice and all). It sounded fucked up when he thought about it, but it was more of a 'help me help you help me' situation. And never malicous. Luc Haust didn't have a malicious bone in his 6'5" body, thanks (and he had some big bones, no pun intended of course). But he was definitely a force to be reckoned with in most circles. Luc didn't think Joaquin to be one of those he counted as brainless. Quite the contrary actually, Luc found something about Joaquin highly interesting.. the kind of interesting he felt compelled to further investigate.
He was more than willing to follow Joaquin as the dark haired man led him to the painting - and he was more than a little awestruck by the actual piece. The others were beautiful, of course, but this? Was more than he expected. And the reds would go perfectly with the reds and golds he had going on in his living room. It was essentially sold, but he'd never say that to Joaquin. He was never one to blow his load all at once. He liked keeping a few cards in his hand, just in case.
To be honest, he only heard about half of the story of the painting - but it was mostly due to how captivating he found the scenery to be and only partially because he didn't need to be sold on it. He'd never been to Arizona, but he'd heard how beautiful it was. Nevada was the closest he'd ever been to the desert - and Luc loved Nevada. He made a mental note to take a personal trip to Arizona some day, if only just to see the place where the picture for the painting was taken. Though he'd definitely find some time to visit other places, naturally.
He managed to keep the surprise from his face at the mention of the homesickness about someplace he wasn't from - because it resonated with Luc in a way he couldn't really verbalize. And he wasn't the kind of guy to talk openly about things that made him feel crazy - the way that feeling of 'home' did to places he'd never been. Kind of the way Pax Letale had felt when he walked in the front doors. Strange. But it was just something to file away for a later date - if there was one. Chances were probably slimmer than Luc thought that he'd ever see this guy again - so he'd best make good with the time he had.
"It's absolutely beautiful," he breathed after he'd taken a sip off his glass. He was drinking the liquor faster than he'd intended to when he showed. It was still early, after all - and the logical side of his brain was telling him he still had to drive later, but his impulsive side wasn't listening. He usually went with the latter after dark - but it was close enough to sundown that his impulses said it counted.
He let his tongue swipe over his bottom lip, chewing at it briefly before his pale eyes flicked from the painting to the artist's face. "How much do you want for it?" he asked, and he was secretly hoping that whatever Joaquin quoted him was at least $200 more than what he was asking for - because it was smart business, and Luc was always a smart businessman. Even if he was standing in an art gallery, getting buzzed (and well on his way to getting drunk) with a guy that was growing more attractive by the minute.