tampered | [OPEN LOG] A LITTLE PARTY NEVER KILLED NOBODY

Entry tags:

boardwalk empire - al capone

[OPEN LOG] A LITTLE PARTY NEVER KILLED NOBODY

When; July 4th after this
Rating; Links are NSFW due to language and sexy hooker flashmobs. Other than language, situations shouldn't get above PG-13.
Characters; It's a party-- come one, come all!
Summary; Surprise birthday party for Meyer Lansky. Everyone is welcome!
Log;

Lucky's casino is busy as usual on Thursday, but those inside will notice that the stage normally reserved for entertainment is shrouded in a large curtain. The owner is seated, prepared to listen to the audition of a buxom blond who seems shy and has no real command over the stage. After a deep breath, she begins to sing in a voice barely above a whisper:

"Happy birthday to you~"

Before she can really get into the meat of the song, the curtain rises to reveal an unusual spectacle. Women of all sizes and shapes dressed comfortably in next to nothing. Those inside the casino can see them make a musical entrance. They seem to dote especially on the owner, who appears to be hoisted in his seat by two beefy men in shiny speedos. They carry him closer to what appears to be a cake.

It's not.

The exterior slips away revealing a mounted pole and another woman who has no problem steadying her stilettos on the arms of the chair the owner is being held captive in from time to time.

Looks like it's SOMEONE'S BIRTHDAY

All varieties of business continue as usual after the reveal. The women and men will flirt with anyone who has the means to earn their attention. There's even a new racehorse to the circuit being promoted out back! Come evening, patriotic Americans launch fireworks into the night sky. So come! There's good company, gambling, drinks and dancing-- eat, drink and be merry in honor of the holiday and Meyer Lansky's birthday!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

A trip to the back to replenish some supplies quickly becomes concerning. He's all for a light atmosphere, but some behaviors are troubling, especially when he can't seem to find their source. He returns to the casino floor and spots Meyer in his seat.

"Hey."

He pulls up a nearby seat.

"You scare everybody off already?"

"I don't think so," he says, almost languidly, giving Al a slight smile. "I'm just having a drink and enjoying myself."

Enjoying himself. What a novel concept. Although he really does seem to be, from the smile and his more lighthearted tone.

It's a bit strange, really, not only to hear the words come out of Meyer's mouth, but to also see it in his demeanor.

"Yeah, I can tell," there would normally be amusement in his voice, but instead he speaks in a low, disparaging way, eyes searching the crowds for a source. He's brought most of these people here and any actions on their part reflect on him. All fun aside, he'd prefer to keep what he has established for himself looking clean.

"Not to impose on your good time here, but we gotta talk for a minute."

"What're we talking about?"

Normally, he'd be a little more concerned about it, but right now, he can't bring himself to be, despite the obvious seriousness in Al's tone. To his credit, he does set down his glass and look at Al with a raised eyebrow.

"There a problem?"

There's some reassurance that the alcohol has provided him a cushion against any lashing out. He's seen Meyer work enough to know he's not the sort to snap, but this particular accusation in his own place of business...it could prove to be more than a simple issue.

"I seen some things around tonight. I don't know who brought it in or who they're pushing for but--"

There's no wait to dress it up, really.

"Someone's peddling some pretty heavy shit."

"What kind of shit?"

He almost looks amused by the accusation -- which shouldn't be the response to something like that, not really. "Where'd you find it?"

He has the sneaking suspicion that he knows exactly what Al's found, but he's not about to call attention to himself without some reasonable cause for doing so.

It's definitely not the reaction that he's expecting, even factoring in this new, mellow nature.

"Dope. There's a pretty fuckin' hefty stash of it in the back room. It doesn't look like they got into anything but I coulda--."

It seems strange now, when the words come out of his mouth, like he's missed some major point. Luciano was the dope pusher of the duo, the one who could really get his hands dirty. That wouldn't have translated over here, not almost in plain sight and not under his nose...

"I mean-- it ain't supposed to be there, right?"

He doesn't answer the question, initially. Instead, he reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out a little bag of heroin, setting it on the bar, looking at it, and then giving Al a meaningful look.

"It's supposed to be there."

Charlie might have outwardly been the one who was more invested in the heroin industry, but he himself knew a fair bit about it. He's never been the type to make any knowledge of illegal business clear, but that doesn't mean he isn't involved in as much illegal business as he can be at any given time.

The bag on the bar earns a long, silent glance before he kneads the area of his face under his nose tightly with one hand. There's only one thing worse than looking like an idiot: looking like an idiot in front of a business associate. Anyone who is familiar with his ego knows that he isn't a big fan.

"So you wanna clue me in on how long this has been going on?"

"Not long. I've been wanting to have a discussion with you about it, actually, although I'm not exactly sure this is the right time."

It's really amazing how relaxed he feels, even with all the chaos going on around them, even with this discussion happening. He can tell Al's displeased, but at the moment, he's not exactly bothered.

"Yeah, I'll check back the next time you get a drop-off," there's some biting sarcasm in the remark that he can't bother to hide.

"You're asking us how we keep a few bells and whistles under wraps-- what the fuck."

Imagine if he had booted someone out or made an accusation prematurely. It's easy to think the worst when a bad hand is already dealt.

He sighs, and begins to open the little bag of heroin. He's going to need some of this, to get through this conversation, he can already tell.

"Like I said, I wanted to get you involved in this, but I wanted to talk to you when Theo wasn't around."

He doesn't want to cut Theo in on the deal; it's nothing personal, but he likes to keep his business small.

He can't help but wonder if Theo had come across this stash first what the situation would be then. Then it comes back to the rule anyone who has done business learns from an early age: some things are better left unasked.

As the bag is opened, his eyes lock back on it as if expecting it to leap out of the bag itself.

"I always heard those who're selling it know better than to dip into it."

Edited 2013-07-05 05:17 (UTC)

"You wanted me to enjoy the party, yes?"

And this is, apparently, how he's choosing to enjoy the party. Questions of the large stash of drugs in the back room aside -- heroin hadn't been the only thing back there, although he didn't exactly think Al had taken the time to go through everything -- he's relatively certain that he and Al can come to some kind of understanding on this.

He waves the bag at Al. "You want some?"

Meyer makes his point. If the discussion is to be for another day, he's not opposed to at least hearing it out. Profit is profit and business rarely deals in the manner of morality or feelings. That's a lesson he has to be reminded of constantly, that he's come to get a hold on and handle on his own.

Besides, it's a party. There's no use going home to stew all night.

"I ain't gonna buy it off you if that's what you're getting at."

A joke; still begrudging but much less spiteful.

"After you two went to all this trouble and expense to throw a party for me, you think I'd charge you for it?"

He'd be offended by that assumption, if it weren't obvious that it was a joke. He looks amused, too, though he's not usually seen with such a smile on his face. Maybe this party idea wasn't so bad, after all. If he can smooth over this whole drug thing with Al, the night can continue unhindered by any resentments or suspicions. That's why he keeps holding the bag out to Al, letting him know it's free for the taking, if he wants it.

The smile is unusual but it's not unsettling. It's genuine relaxation on Meyer's part which is exactly what the night needs. The first hour or so of stuffiness is fine, but after that...it's just sad. Al finally takes the bag and turns it over in the palm of his hand as if inspecting it with some kind of expertise. There's definitely a feeling of entitlement and good faith from the pass-off.

"You really need this to mellow out and enjoy a party?" he says after turning the bag over a few times.

Meyer doesn't have to answer that. They both already know how it is.

"Well, I'm glad you've got hobbies."

"I don't need it, but once and awhile..."

He trails off and shrugs. He's not the kind of guy to use it all the time, and Al's probably -- no, definitely -- never seen him doped up before, but there's a first time for everything, right? This party was supposed to be about gaudiness and excess, as far as he can tell, and he feels obligated to live up to that however he can.

"I wouldn't call it a hobby. You ever done it before?"

"I ain't no fuckin' dope fiend."

That would be a no but not a refusal if one considers that he is still holding onto the bag. It's easy for him to think in extremes. Being of an adaptive mindset, a lack of experience in any matter puts him on the defensive.

"Some of the girls use it back home. Never had a good opportunity."

He couldn't swing it at work and that's not the kind of thing he'd bring home.

"Yeah, well, there's your opportunity."

He's all about seizing the opportunity to do things, after all. He'd spent some time being discomfited and unamused about their surprise party, but hey, it's happening, whether he likes it or not, and he might as well try to enjoy himself.

"You gonna try it, or you want to let me have some while you're thinking about it?"

If Al's just going to hang onto the bag and not make good use of it, he's inclined to take it back. Just for a second. Long enough to get some of his own.

Al allows the bag to be taken momentarily. It feels appropriate, both as a gesture of good faith and an opporunity for observation of a potentially rare situation. Here, a man so normally in control finally making an effort to let loose at his own party. It could prove interesting, all under-the-table business aside.

As soon as the opportunity arises, he takes the bag back and samples a pinch, enough that he thinks he can judge with his good sense and encouraged by just a hint of haste to take the challenge.

As soon as he has the bag back in his possession, he takes a healthy pinch of the drugs himself -- probably more than Al, but then, he's had more practice at knowing what he can tolerate -- enough to put a little smile on his face as he hands the bag back to Al. Sure, maybe it's not a great idea to be doing this so obviously in public, but this is his casino, and Al's his bouncer, so he's not exactly worried about anyone kicking him out.

"It'll hit you in about... ten seconds."

He might be exaggerating about that, but it usually doesn't take long. That completely relaxed look on his face is probably much more understandable now.

Discretion is the furthest concern from his mind. There's no one here to limit him and there are enough healthy distractions to go around. After dabbing at his nose with a kerchief, he noticably counts the ten seconds as they pass with a few muted taps of his fingers on the counter.

"I don't feel nothin'," he announces with a comfortable aura of pride.

"At least no better than usual."

Edited 2013-07-07 05:10 (UTC)

"Just give it a second, okay?"

He hadn't meant Al to take the ten seconds thing so literally. Had he really just counted? He'd laugh, if he didn't think Al would probably take offense to that.

He's also pretty sure that Al won't be asserting that he feels nothing within the next couple minutes. Sure, there's always the possibility that Al's immune to the stuff, but thus far, he's never met anyone who is.

"Sure."

Regardless of whether or not the stuff kicks in (really it's more of a question of whether he acknowledges it or not), it's nice to appreciate a moment of peace amidst everything going on. He's not fond of time alone in his own mind, but this...this is alright.

"You though? Something's definitely lightening you up, and I don't think it's just this."

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