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[cledonomancy]

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send me a poke, a prompt, a character, or a starter post, and we'll set this party in motion.

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[phillysfinest]

"Lucky for me, I'm not big on tears." It might've counted as a sob story, but Waxey doesn't remember a whole lot of blame being flung. Doesn't remember her looking after pity, at all. She'd been well the fuck past that. (It'd been a little bit pathetic. Almost lamentable, not that Waxey'd really given a shit.) When she'd named Warden, it'd seemed more like stating a fact: Warden Rankin is a vicious sack of shit. Which is the truth.

He almost smirks at the vicious sack of shit's reference to 'the eternal dope'; it ain't a bad name for Mickey. And Warden's got a fair point about Doyle: who the fuck knew why the shithead had stayed? He'd always been more of a jump ship type of guy. Maybe he'd gotten sick of running. Maybe he'd gotten to the point of thinking some sleazy boardwalk club was enough. Maybe Nucky Thompson'd been sucking his prick; doesn't fucking matter. Mickey's a whole lotta nothing now, just another corpse in the ground.

(Almost true. Not quite. Because it's pretty clear Mickey's also a memory for Aramat Drawdes. And thanks to her, Waxey ain't entirely forgotten the prick, either.)

And all right, all right, at least the broad isn't entirely immortal. It could be worse, right? "Good to know you got options.

"And that you ain't coming into Philly with those bombs."

[runsalbany]

You have to be a vicious sack of shit to run Albany and the cities connected to it. Full of freaks, killers, outsiders, and people that just don't make any sense to anyone, like the woman in question.

Shows how little the both of them know for now about the little shit. (Eternal Dope is a very good for him, it's seems.)

"I'm not going anywhere with these bombs unless I get clearance. I'm not stupid, people don't like their city going sky high."

[phillysfinest]

Hey. Being a vicious sack of shit ain't the worst thing. Waxey can work with vicious sacks of shit. Waxey can even admire one or two things about vicious sacks of shit. And if he isn't Warden's biggest fan, he doesn't have much active reason to loathe the man. It sounds like Drawdes might have a reason or two, but that's her business.

(And Jesus fucking Christ the eternal presence of the dope is one thing Waxey does not need to know about. Fucking ever.)

"We appreciate your forethought." There's the flicker of a smirk at that, and Waxey takes a few languid moments to take a draw on his cigar. "You understand I gotta ask."

There's another question he could ask - 'when you find her you'll, what, chain her in a cellar?' - but Waxey's pretty sure that falls outside his purview. He doesn't make a habit of sticking his nose into other peoples' affairs, not when it won't bring a profit. It's not good for business. Even if he is a little curious (he wouldn't say 'concerned.')

[runsalbany]

"Of course you do. I understand." Humans are panicky, easily paranoid creatures by nature.

"Are you curious about anything else, Mr. Gordon? Feel free to ask, I'll be as open as I can." Warden says with a smile that... is slightly off.

[phillysfinest]

There's good fuckin' reason to be when you find out you're dealing with a whole world beyond your understanding, especially when that world's full of psychopaths who live too long and could kill you by fuckin' blinking. It was bad enough when there'd been men eager to shove Waxey out of the picture; now he's got Rankin's freak to worry about, too.

Waxey doesn't trust Rankin's invitation for questions any more than he trusts that smile. (When's Rankin's smile been anything but a little off? The guy could make Mickey's grins look almost normal, if the dumb shit hadn't got himself killed.) He watches the man for a moment, eyebrows raised.

"I got questions, I'll ask. Right now what I want to know is what you want from Philly... And if you thought this broad was such a danger, I gotta wonder why you didn't say something sooner."

[runsalbany]

Of course, humans aren't to be trusted either. (Except Ty, but she has a unique perspective none of these people have, so he passes.) Warden knows first hand the irrational fear humans have of something they deem 'different'. His own father locked him away in his own home for year away from the outside world when his own powers started to develop. To this day, he has to wear gloves or his makes thing disappear from this reality.

Humans can't even accept a different skin color or even something as truly petty as nationality or ethnic background. What do you think they would do with long lived people with powers? Warden may be vicious, cold, and sadistic. But he loves his city, one of the few places people like him can be in the light and not the shadow.

They will have to kill him before they take it, and he'll damned before a overemotional little mayse topples it. He'll make a proper example out of her and that horrid witch.

"The men in New York didn't want me talking to you. I had to angle things. And all I want, if Aramat is still in the city, is her location."

[phillysfinest]

Waxey also knows a thing or two about bullshit human prejudices, of which he's been on both the giving and receiving ends. These days, his position shields him from most attacks, but there are always reminders when you don't fit the image of the One True American. (Whatever the fuck that's supposed to be. Waxey like to pretend it's a thing of the past; he isn't always given the chance.)

For all the reminders he's received, Waxey can't quite shake his own unease or antipathies. Can't quiet his mistrust of Albany's residents, can't muffle vague fears of what they might do. He'll work with them, he'll co-operate with them, but he can't find reason to fucking trust them. Not when they bend the rules of the natural fucking world.

He stiffens at the mention of Lansky and Luciano - because who the fuck else could Warden be referring to, the fucking 'men in New York' - feels his breath constrict in his throat. "And you adhered to their desires." Eyes fixed on his cigar, he weights each word deliberately. Maybe it makes business sense to comply with New York. Maybe Albany's got more invested in New York-- Not to mention the fact that New York's got the strings of that Commission wrapped around their collective fuckin' fingertips.

Waxey recognizes the relative strength of their position. That doesn't mean he likes it. And that doesn't mean Warden's got the right to treat Philly like yesterday's garbage.

Turning from the cigar, Waxey favors Rankin with an impassive gaze. "Until it turned out you couldn't track her down yourself. Never mind what she was doing in the meanwhile. Never mind the damage she might have caused." Waxey remains unconvinced that Aramat's as dangerous as Warden claims (not to anyone outside of Warden or Luciano, anyway), but the principle of the thing's got him heated.

"Too bad you showed so late. You'd've checked in a few weeks ago, you might've seen her yourself."

[runsalbany]

The natural world... the natural world, do you know how ridiculous that sounds to Warden? Warden's people, of all species and subspecies are forced into the shadows, people that are long-lived, people that can kill with ease... but also people that have the same hopes, desires, fears with you humans.

You humans make the rules in this world, you humans force us to be secret. If anything, you bend the rules of the natural world. (Which is still a stupid fucking term to Warden.)

Warden looks away, slightly displeased. "I had to follow their orders, remain in business. That doesn't mean I'm completely for them, Gordon. I'm speaking to you."

"Well, she obviously didn't. You're still alive and your part of town isn't in flames. Maybe you talked the wretch down."

He sighs. "She moves quick. And perhaps if New York hadn't stalled me I would've caught her."

[phillysfinest]

It might be ridiculous - it is probably ridiculous - but as far as Waxey's concerned, it's the truth. Everything about Albany's still too new (and too potentially threatening) to seem like anything other than an aberration. One day he might come around to seeing it otherwise. Right now, he's got other things to think about. Like those assholes from New York Rankin just had to obey.

He's not letting this go. Not yet. And Warden's attempt at conciliation only stokes Waxey's ire.

When Waxey speaks again, there's an edge to his voice, a tell-tale trace of the anger he usually manages to stifle. "You're speaking to me now. After the fact.

"I understand you've got a business to run. You should know I don't appreciate seeing my own endangered because a pair of pitsle kinder got it in their heads they want me out of the picture and they've got you dancing to their tune.

"Maybe it don't matter to you if Philly's torn apart. It matters to me. It matters to the business you've got here. If that ain't worth risking a little New York disapprobation, I might start wondering why I let you in the door. Whether I can trust you to protect the interests of my city."

Waxey stops himself before he can push the grievance any further. Irritated as he is, he knows better than to overplay his hand. He has no intention of cutting ties with Warden - can hardly afford it (though if he had to, he'd find a way - but something had to be said. Rankin's gotta recognize he can't just shove Waxey Gordon to the side and expect him to talk himself out of whatever trouble might barrel along. That ain't the way business is done.

Fucking New York.

[runsalbany]

He just sits there calmly, shows no sign of being offended or offput by Waxey's own gripes about being ignored. (He's used to being ignored until his territory is important or when business is needed, aside from that, Albany is the freaky ghost no one even admits is there.) Bites his tongue when he wants to say one of the few reasons he still deals with his nearly-irrelevant self is that he's one of the few bosses he actually knows that not dead or in jail. But then he will sound angry himself and he doesn't really mean it.

"You need to understand that I am in a very, very... strange place in all this going between you three, Gordon. With men that are overly ambitious and inpatient. It almost makes long for the days were both Rothstein and Marazano would sit and silently judge me everytime I came to New York. So if I sounded like I didn't care, I apologize."

[phillysfinest]

Waxey still doesn't like the sound of Rankin's bullshit, but he takes the edge off his voice, shakes his head. "We'd all be better off if A.R. hadn't gone and got himself shot."

There was a man who'd known how to run a business. A.R. had possessed a combination of vision, ruthlessness, and an honest-to-God class that Waxey's not seen since, and had used his talents to open new avenues for organized crime. It was working with A.R. that'd connected Waxey to Philly in the first place, and the man had rarely interfered with Waxey's business. Sure, he'd gotten dicey toward the end - too wrapped up in gambling or who the fuck could say what - but for years, Arnold Rothstein had been the model to shoot for.

Maranzano was another story. There'd been too many dramatics with that asshole, too much bullshit Italians-only pride. (Masseria'd been the same way, but at least he'd been willing to overlook ethnicity in the name of profit.) If it wasn't for his enmity toward the fucking children who'd taken over after Maranzano, Waxey might've applauded the man's assassination. As it is, he can only feel that one pain in the ass'd been replaced by another.

And that's the thing: compared with Maranzano, compared with Lansky and Luciano, Warden's almost an agreeable man. He's fucking strange and he ain't worth trusting, but at least he isn't out to take over Philly. At least he's usually willing to cooperate. There aren't too many bosses left who are.

"It ain't a matter of what you sounded like. What I'm talking about is good business practice. And whether this sort of delayed communication's going to become a habit with you.

"This case, it don't matter so much. But you thought it might, and you kept your mouth shut. That's what concerns me." He watches Warden for a moment, then relaxes back into his seat. "All I'm asking is you try a little harder next time."