Date: 2015-04-03 04:42 am (UTC)
phillysfinest: (how about go fuck yourself)
'One of her specialties was mind games'? The same could be said about certain people sitting in this room, as far as Waxey's concerned. Maybe the woman'd been running a scheme, but if so it'd been a damned good one, and nothing's come of it. In any case, she sure as shit hadn't looked like she had the energy for heavy deception.

Warden's another story. The man reads like a composition of deceptions, weaving bullshit stories with half the words he tells. Which is fine; that's the nature of this business. If you want to run a city, you've got to be prepared to bend the truth. Knowing as much, Waxey isn't prone to buying Rankin's assertions. Especially when Waxey's had a chance to form his own impressions of the lady in question.

And what the fuck is this, did she do anything to you?, you don't have to lie. What the fuck? As if Waxey requires permission to say whatever the fuck he pleases around Warden or any other prick. As if he could've been... what, scared into keeping mum? As if he wouldn't have been on Warden's ass if he'd been attacked by one of Albany's freaks. What the fuck kind of bullshit is this?

Waxey keeps his irritation at a simmer, takes a draw on the cigar. Tastes the smoke. Releases it. "Next to some of your people, she was an angel.

"You want the truth, I'd be surprised if she's still alive. She didn't look so good when I saw her."
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ofinfinitetrash: (Default)
and count myself a king of infinite trash

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